Early reviews for “Two Scoops” Is Just Right
5 Stars… A choice pick for short fiction fans. ~ Midwest Book Reviews.
Really funny… If you want a good laugh (and who doesn't) you MUST pick this book up. MUST. ~ The Book Journal
A fun read… If you want a good laugh buy this book, read this book, then buy one for a friend. ~ Barbara Kent, Success Books
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“Two Scoops”
Is Just Right
78 funny short original stories
Alex Carrick
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 Alex Carrick
ISBN: 1-4392-5392-7
EAN 13: 9781439253922
LCCN: 2009908177
This e-book is intended for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be sold or given away to other people. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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To my wife, Donna, an often-times collaborator on these stories, whether she knew it or not
And to my children, Tom, Ted and Tammy-Li
They get me up in the morning.
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Foreword
In early 2008, I was asked by my employer to put together an economics blog. I approached this with a good deal of trepidation, worrying about whether I would have enough material to write about and if I could do it justice. I quickly found that I rather enjoyed the experience.
So much, in fact, that I began to branch out with humorous lifestyle blogs that I was composing on the weekends and at night, just for fun. It is these entries, posted on my personal blog site, “www.alexcarrick.com”, that I want to share with you.
This book contains more than just stories about the family. Some entries are dappled impressions of modern life. Some are comedy bits, with the odd gem of a punch line. Others are lighter than air and rise up like whimsy. Others still have a slightly more serious intent, with surprising twists.
I thought about choosing a different title, something high-brow-sounding like Diamond Dreams and Sometimes Smoke, but decided to go with the more down-to-earth “Two Scoops” is Just Right for reasons that hopefully will become obvious when you read the relevant chapter. Let’s begin.
Alex Carrick
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GREEN is an Acronym
March 3, 2008
The “green movement” is everywhere these days. You find references to “green” in news stories, television ads and learned journals. It’s all about climate change and conserving scarce resources for the future.
But how did “green” become so closely associated with the environment? Think of previous uses of the word green – for example, the Green Bay Packers, the Green Goblin and green as the color of envy. Historically, none of these particularly carried a banner about environmental responsibility.
Therefore, we assigned Reed Construction Data’s expert team of researchers to find out the real story. It turns out that GREEN is an acronym that stands for:
Greater
Recognition of
Earlier
Environmental
Neglect
Now it makes sense. Or does it?
Of course, the foregoing is nonsense. It’s kind of like the famous old British Broadcasting Corporation news item, which appeared on April Fools’ Day, about the spaghetti crop in Italy.
Green is synonymous with healthy vegetation. However, “green” as the above acronym is a cute story and does actually carry the correct message.
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Celine Dion, Jack Bauer and NAFTA
March 6, 2008
In the course of the current primary and caucus season in the United States, the Democratic contenders, both Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama, say they want to re-open NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement) to deal with some perceived hardships faced by U.S. business.
The major issues are lower environmental and workplace safety standards in Mexico. Nevertheless, in Canada we’re still left shaking our heads in bewilderment. What more can Canadians do to satisfy our American friends on the trade and every other front?
We’ve already lost Celine Dion to the bright lights of Las Vegas.
We’re sending you all our best comedians – Jim Carrey, Mike Myers and Seth Rogen.
Canada’s own Kiefer Sutherland (a.k.a. Jack Bauer) is protecting your President in 24-hour chunks at a time, when he’s not otherwise incarcerated.
In hockey, the Stanley Cup hasn’t been held in triumph on Canadian soil in years.
And now our currency has appreciated more than 60% versus the greenback over the past five years. The fact is that both countries are losing manufacturing jobs to low-labour-cost countries in Asia and elsewhere.
There’s a saying in politics that a week is a lifetime. What’s being said now to win delegates in Ohio and Pennsylvania, two states in particular distress due to old-economy job losses, may well be “fine-tuned” by the time the Presidential election rolls around in November.
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The Curious Meanings of Some Canadian Place Names
March 12, 2008
When I started out in this business, back in the 1970s, I would often leave Toronto and travel to the “hinterland” to make economic presentations before somewhat sceptical audiences. Many times, I was told the old joke, “What’s the definition of an expert? It’s some son-of-a-gun from Toronto with slides.” I’ve cleaned up the language a bit.
Now, all manner of growth in Calgary, Edmonton and Vancouver makes Toronto look like it is standing still. However, I can still get a laugh when I refer to Toronto as “the centre of the universe”.
To take the edge off city rivalries, I often turn to the meaning of words. After not much research, I’ve discovered that many places in Canada still bear the names assigned to them by the original peoples who occupied the land. They knew what they were doing when they named some of our major cities.
For example, Toronto is a Native-Canadian word meaning “parking lot”. You know the truth of this when you’re sitting in your car on the Don Valley Parkway.
Our federal capital, Ottawa, means “hand in your pocket”. That’s obvious.
Calgary is Native-Canadian shorthand for “It’s pay-back time, Toronto!” I don’t know how they got all that in there, but they did.
Finally, Canada means “too many meetings”. I’ll have to end here because a meeting notice just popped up on my computer screen.
DISCLAIMER: Little of the foregoing is true. No animals or children were hurt or put at risk in the making of this blog entry. No slights were intended or implied with respect to any individuals, places or events. If I have caused injury, consider this to be an apology.
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Life is a Million Piece Jigsaw Puzzle
March 14, 2008
The following may not be the equal of an Aesop’s fable or quite as entertaining as something written by Hans Christian Andersen or the Brothers Grimm, but it does convey a message of sorts.
I’m pushing the years a bit, but my wife is somewhat younger. As a result, two of our three children are still quite young. Recently our middle child, a boy aged 10, asked me why a certain other child in his class was behaving in a way that seemed out of the ordinary.
I was able to shed some light on this behaviour by pointing out something about one of the other child’s parents. It wasn’t a bad thing, just a physical challenge that might well require some adjustments within that family. Ted immediately understood, but expressed surprise that he had not noticed the situation himself. I told him that he needs to be more observant. Then, in my usual annoying way (“Oh, Dad!”), I came up with the following allegory that I will share with you.
Life is like a million-piece jigsaw puzzle. Nobody ever puts together all the pieces. But if you can assemble, say 200,000 pieces, and somebody else you know only manages to put together 100,000 pieces, then you are going to see a lot more of the big picture than they are.
Information is power. It is one of the selling points of the business that I am in, the publishing sector. But information also yields insight − into why people do the things they do and why events often turn out in predictable ways.
It is important to read, to watch, to talk with others and, especially, to listen.
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Only One, the Governor of New York
March 17, 2008
In Jeopardy game-show fashion, the recent woes of Eliot Spitzer give rise to the following answer, “Only one, the Governor of New York.” But what are the six questions? The following are my best guesses.
(1) How many politicians does it take to keep a high-priced call-girl service in business?
(2) How many politicians does it take to expose the hypocrisy of the morally self-righteous?
(3) How many politicians does it take to rejuvenate a long-suffering wives’ club?
(4) How many politicians does it take to turn J. Edgar Hoover into a sympathetic figure?
(5) How many politicians just saw their hopes for higher office spontaneously combust?
And finally, (6) what does Client No. 9 expect to hear when he asks his date, “Who’s your favourite sugar daddy?”
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Driving Schools: What’s in a Name?
April 7, 2008
It has often been said that there are two driving seasons in Canada, winter and construction. We are currently in the transition period from the former to the latter.
My wife and I were talking about this the other day as we made our way to our cottage on Georgian Bay for the first time in this new year. To take our minds off the driving conditions, we started batting around potential names for driving schools that might prepare the next generation for the road hazards ahead. Here are the Top 10 names we came up with. Feel free to add your own.
(1) The Sincere Apologies driving school − for driving students who just know they’re not going to get it right.
(2) The Lucky Brake driving school − who can resist the cheesy pun?
(3) The Lead-foot driving school − to be charitable, let’s just say this is for those who have “eye-foot” co-ordination problems.
(4) Repo Man driving school – where the teachers are true professionals and the students are open to learning new tricks.
(5) The Pray Hard driving school – for the religious (i.e., just close your eyes and …)
(6) The White Cane driving school – I don’t even want to think about it.
(7) Yikes! driving school − you might as well get used to saying it.
(8) Honkers driving school − for those in a hurry to get to Hooters.
(9) The Multi-tasking driving school – this is for people who want to do more than just drive; e.g., talk on the phone, drink coffee; apply make-up; write a blog entry; etc.
(10) The Hide-My-Car-Keys driving school – for all graduates of the preceding nine driving schools.
In the real world of driving in Toronto, there are some names that are every bit as creative as the above, but I don’t want to add them here for fear of being sued or run over.
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Bathroom Humour
April 14, 2008
There is bathroom humour and then there is “in the bathroom” humour, which is another thing altogether.
I have been accused, on occasion, of using bathroom humour in my speeches and written material. This mystified me until I realized that there had been a misunderstanding. I always thought the definition of bathroom humour involved the use of profanity and/or foul language. What I had been presenting, instead, was humour that took place in a bathroom. You have to admit, there is quite a difference.
Building product manufacturers are the major clients of the company that I work for. It seems to me that a number of these firms (e.g., the makers of faucets, plumbing fixtures, etc.) would find my brand of bathroom humour to be almost a form of advertising. However, I could be wrong about this.
At my age, I spend a lot of time in the bathroom. I find it peaceful and stimulating at the same time. I do some of my best thinking in the tub. Don't hurt yourself trying to picture this.
Except I can get distracted. Our five-year-old daughter (yes, I'm an old guy with a young family) has a rubber ducky set, a mother and three ducklings. I kid Tammy-Li that they like swimming with daddy best, because I make gentle waves.
She understands the joke, but actually I think it's true. They look really content, bobbing up and down. Plus I protect them from the killer whale that lurks in the deep end. The whale belongs to one of our sons and, all eco-friendly talk aside, it's a really nasty piece of work.
But I'm getting sidetracked again. As for my relations with clients, I am sensitive to their concerns on at least one score. I know that any supposedly amusing stories I tell about the bathroom have to involve human folly, rather than any kind of mechanical failure.
Exploding toilets are a no-no!
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Deuteronomy No Longer Describes Canada’s Place in the World
April 24, 2008
Looking for a “big gulp” experience? Fill up your gas guzzler. With gasoline at $1.20 per litre in Canada, it can bring a lump to your throat and tears to your eyes. And this is happening in a nation rich with energy.
Canada has always been known as a resource-based country. Early Canadians used to be known as “hewers of wood and drawers of water”. That’s a phrase that comes from the Book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament of the Bible. Quoting from Deuteronomy makes one seem erudite, don’t you think? Actually, it also appears in the Book of Joshua. Of course, the phrase originally applied to different people in another place and time.
However, things in this country have changed from pioneer days. Modern-day Canadians like to think of themselves as sophisticated high-tech “doyens” or financial “mavens”. Yes, you have guessed right, I just got my hands on a thesaurus. Anyway, we like to be thought of as sophisticated, with hockey as a side-interest.
Nevertheless, resources continue to play a major role in how we appear to others. In international currency markets, the “loonie” has become a petro-currency. The value of the Canadian dollar now often moves in tandem with the world price of oil.
The oil reserves being developed in Alberta’s Tar Sands − something like 180 billion barrels − are the second largest in the world next to Saudi Arabia. The earliest methods of extraction in Alberta involved open pit mines and bucket-wheel excavators. The latest cleaner technology is the SAGD approach – steam assisted gravity drainage. In this method, steam is pumped into the ground through one pipe, which loosens the heavy oil trapped on particles of sand, and the resulting liquidized froth is pumped back up through a second pipe. The second pipe is drilled deeper than the first one.
Therefore, there is a more appropriate modern phrase to describe Canadians as opposed to “hewers of wood and drawers of water”. We may now best be described as “steam-assisted gravity drainers of oil and pumpers of gas”.
This may not have quite the same biblical or Shakespearean ring, but it is more timely and accurate. Practice saying it a couple of times until you are comfortable with it.
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Crawlers and Spiders and the Vanishing Art of Headline Puns
May 2, 2008
There has been a major casualty of the digital age that you may be noticing only peripherally. Has it entered your consciousness that there are fewer punning headlines anymore?
There is a very good reason for this. The business of publishing is increasingly dependent on the Internet. In turn, Internet-based advertising sales depend on “number of hits” or “Internet-pages viewed”.
People find news stories on the Internet by going to the sites of their favourite newspapers and magazines. But they also find what they are looking for through search engines provided by the likes of Google and Yahoo.
The goal, from a publisher’s standpoint, is to have the “web crawlers” and “spiders” launched by the search engines find their stories as easily and readily as possible. Bare-bones headlines make this process easier. It is best to get as many pertinent facts into the headline as possible. That way, a search on specific terminology (e.g., inflation rate, Gross Domestic Product, etc.) is more likely to find the headline and the story quickly.
Hence, the fall-off in the number of word-game headlines. Web spiders don’t “get” puns.
I think this is a shame. Furthermore, I now understand that I need to be less funny, which may not actually be much of a problem. However, it does cut down on my creativity. On any given economic subject, I’ve always liked saying some variant of:
(1) “Québec is Up, Ontario is Down and the Prairies are Flat”
This just amuses me. Some of the best sources for ridiculous headlines are in the fisheries and in agriculture. Who hasn’t been tickled, seeing?
(2) “Fishermen Set Sail just for the Halibut”
(3) “Bad Kernels Pop Corn Price Bubble”
Here’s a story that I would love to write:
(4) “Motion Moved that Alberta has Gas Problem”
Then the first line of the article might read: “Oil second that”, says energy executive; followed by “something smells in methane country, according to government official.”
Financial markets are a rich minefield for such material, as demonstrated by:
(5) “Investors Shafted by Gold Mine Scam”
And when a rather large psychic comes to town and gives advice on the stock market:
(6) “Tall Medium Sells Short”
Here are three more:
(7) “Salmon Run Spawns Record, Anglers Hooked”
(8) “Tire Prices Inflate, Sales Skid”
(9) “Fruit Growers Say Frostbite’s the Pits”
Finally, this is my all-time favourite. I’ve been dying to use it. It’s so simple and yet so eloquent.
(10) “Post-War Baby Boomers Cry for Change”
Take a second to think about it. Is it perfect? That “Depends” on whether or not the word “diaper” needs to actually appear.
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A Perfect Second Career for Their Golden Years − at Wal-Mart
May 12, 2008
Over the weekend, I had some fun imagining how certain celebrities and politicians would seem to be ideally suited for second careers, in their golden years, as “greeters” at Wal-Mart. Try to imagine being met by these people and these words on your way into the store.
Britney Spears – “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know where the underwear department is.”
Paris Hilton – “Yes I can direct you to video equipment. Let’s go together and see what we can put on film.”
Jeff Probst – “Immunity idols are on sale at X-aisle’s island.”
Donald Trump – “George the manager says to me, “You’re fired.” I say to him, “No, you’re fired.” So, to answer your question, yes I am still working here.”
Any of the cast members of the TV show Lost – “Are you lost?”
Dr. Phil (working the “returns” counter) – “How’s that working for you?”
George W. Bush – “I know we sell weapons of mass destruction, but I can’t find them.”
Alan Greenspan – “Spend, spend, spend!”
Barack Obama – “What matters most is good judgement. You’ve made the right decision in coming to Wal-Mart.”
Hillary Clinton – “Experience is what counts. Talk is cheap. So are we.”
Vanna White – “We sell everything but vowels.”
The Queen of England – “It is truly wonderful to see that you have brought your adorable children with you today. I am always so pleased when Charles and Camilla come shopping with me.”
Stephen Harper – “I used to be the Prime Minister of Canada. Now is there anything I can help you with today?”
Simon Cowell – “Listen sweetheart, I can take you to the karaoke machines, but that won’t lead to Entertainment.”
Paula Abdul – “What I like about you, even without your teeth and in this lighting, you still shine.”
Randy Jackson (at the check-out counter) – “Yo dawg, whassup? Check it out. How do you think you did?”
None of this is meant as a slam against Wal-Mart or its customers. It’s just for amusement. Donna and I shop there all the time. We really appreciate the bargains and the variety.
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My Wife can Read my Mind
May 20, 2008
My wife can read my mind, which makes it easier for her to steal things from me.
Okay, before I get in trouble, “steal” is too strong a word. Borrow long-term is a better description.
This includes everything from T-shirts to hard-covers, but it’s items that start with the letter “c” that really concern me – coins, cash, currency and credit cards.
Believe me, I know she only does this for the common good: to buy groceries for the family; to repair the family van; and, most important (according to her), to look good for me.
To be fair, I borrow from her too. No, not dresses or high heels, although I do have my eye on a certain shortie nightie.
But the things I borrow from Donna are a little more ethereal. I borrow her good thoughts. I borrow her wisdom. And I borrow her patience.
Clearly, it’s more than a fair bargain. Ours is not just a love that “passeth all understanding”.
Being an economist gives me some special insight into relationships. More than most, I recognize that spousal theft keeps the fires of the economy burning.
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Reasons to Want to be Governor of the Bank of Canada
May 27, 2008
There are quite a number of reasons that it might be “neat” to be the Governor of the Bank of Canada. Here are some of them.
(1) Guv’nor just sounds so great and fits in with this nation’s British heritage.
(2) You always win at Monopoly ’cause you can just print yourself some more money.
(3) In your economic statements, you get to use an arcane secret language that only you and a few other wise men and women, and maybe Madonna (thanks to her Kabbalah studies), really understand.
(4) Furthermore, your best writing is between the lines. And you get to chuckle over everybody else’s efforts to try to understand what you really meant by that phrase at the end of the first paragraph or that choice of words in the middle. And why has the comma been placed there and not here?
(5) The commercial bank presidents show you their shiny new interest rates first.
(6) You get to decide if former Prime Minster (for 133 days) Kim Campbell’s picture will ever appear on Canada’s currency.
(7) Mom is so proud. It ranks almost as high as being a doctor or a lawyer or a talk-show host.
(8) You don’t have to listen to anybody, not the Prime Minister nor Members of Parliament, and certainly not to that rabble that is comprised of other economists. However, it is still best to listen to your wife. That is an immutable rule of nature and is only ever broken with the gravest of consequences.
(9) You get to ride on the coattails of the Chairman of the Federal Reserve in the United States. You may be the high priest of finance in Canada, but the Chairman of the Fed is God’s emissary on earth. His (or her) perks rank with the Pope’s.
(10) At the same time, nobody knows who you are and you can still eat at McDonald’s or Wendy’s or the restaurant of your choice.
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The Timbit Affair and a List of Bogus Firings
June 2, 2008
A woman, working in a Tim Horton’s donut shop in London, Ontario was recently fired for giving away one free “timbit” to a baby. This has become a public relations nightmare for the company. Timbits are the punched-out centres of donuts – the empty holes, as it were – and, in some theoretical sense at least, may not even exist. This gets into a branch of quantum physics or Descartian philosophy with which I am not that familiar.
Plus, I have personally experienced Tim Horton’s staff members giving away timbits like candy. I’ll usually ask for only three coconut-covered chocolate timbits, knowing I’ll get six in the bag.
I don’t know all the facts in this case and so I’ll hold back further comment. There may be mitigating circumstances – such as the company being annoyed about how many free timbits I’ve gotten over the years.
However, this “timbit” affair has led me to consider other cases of questionable dismissals. Specifically, let’s ponder on what may be the most bogus reasons to ever be fired. The following are fake-life cases of individuals who might have been fired for reasons that seem incomprehensible, once one thinks about the profession and what it takes to be a success in that line of work.
(1) The mattress tester who suffered from narcolepsy. Sounds to me like he fell into his dream job.
(2) The sanitation worker with no sense of smell. Something about this firing was fishy.
(3) The public official in California who couldn’t spell the name … Shwartzeneger? Shwartsenegger? Schwartzandhaggar? Shortsandagar? All right, I give up.
(4) The CEO who was short-sighted. Those financial quarters come around pretty quickly.
(5) The economist who was far-sighted. Yes, I’m feeling pretty smug about the way this one worked out so well.
(6) The merchant seaman who swore relentlessly as a result of tourette’s syndrome. He always faded into the background in a group of drunken sailors.
(7) The TV golf commentator who had a sore throat and couldn’t speak above a whisper. Have you ever watched those broadcasts and had to turn the volume way, way up? “He’s on the green now and asking for quiet from the crowd.”
(8) The lawyer who simply could not tell the truth. I thought that was a prerequisite.
(9) The travel writer who couldn’t sit still. This proves again that publishers are so very hard to please.
(10) The blogger with an obsessive-compulsive disorder. In the words of Robert De Niro, “Are you looking at me? Are you looking at me?”
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Death of a Mattress
June 9, 2008
Nothing symbolizes the start of summer in our neck of cottage country more than a “mattress”. And that’s not due to the strange alchemy and hormonal urges that meld dangerously when sand, sun and teenagers mix. No, it’s rather because June 1st is traditionally “big garbage” day.
This is the one day a year when cottage owners can place just about anything out by the roadside and it will be picked up, either by scavengers who cruise by relentlessly in short-haul trucks, or later by sanitation workers. Mattresses lie up and down the street like so many discarded teeth. I once counted 42 of them when the kids and I went for a short bike ride around the block.
This is the time of year that mattresses fear the most. Turkeys and pumpkins get nervous as Thanksgiving and Halloween approach in the fall. Hearts start to flutter in February just before Valentine’s Day. But mattresses get scared when the snow disappears and the first blades of grass shoot up from the soil.
That’s when they’re on their best behaviour and keep their tossing and turning to a minimum. I always sleep my soundest in late May. Mattress elders know that the day of reckoning is at hand and word goes out across the land. Some unstable mattresses never bounce back from the trauma.
Which mattresses get marked for this sad moment? There is a mystical creature that inspects all mattresses on a regular basis throughout the year. It does this work under contract, but as a sideline, also has the baby-teeth-recycling account.
We humans can turn in a loose tooth, in good condition, and you get a dollar back. It’s more lucrative than taking beer or wine bottles back to the store. That’s why we know this possibly-androgynous magical being as the tooth fairy. But in mattress land, this beast is referred to in hushed tones as “the posturepedic reaper”.
There are three stages in the life of a mattress. In its formative years, a young coltish mattress has a spring in its flop. As it grows into adulthood, its physique remains firm but forgiving. In old age, its fortunes start to sag.
If you’ve never seen a mattress graveyard, it’s a thing of awesome beauty. Mighty birds, usually seagulls, circle and pirouette in the sky. It is only with alarming disrespect that this location is sometimes referred to as the town dump.
The other items that are most often discarded on big garbage day − plastic chairs, carpet remnants, old skis and anything made of wicker − act as sentinels. They stand on guard and provide companionship as each old mattress makes its silent way, with solemn dignity, into an everlasting afterlife.
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The Dawning of a Bright New Day – in Garbage Collection
June 16, 2008
The day I have been dreading has finally arrived. Yesterday, a flyer arrived in the mail from the City of Toronto requiring the Carrick family to decide about our future garbage handling requirements. Specifically, we have to choose the size of bins we will need and the resulting extra charge this will entail.
The City of Toronto will be providing us with two shiny new bins, a grey one for normal garbage and a blue one for recycling material. These are in addition to the green bin which is meant for composting material. Donna has left the task of deciding on the size of bins that are right for our family up to me. I already know the answer, as big as possible.
In our block, we’re the garbage kings. We have to go out really early in the morning on garbage day to take all of our plastic bags to the curb. This is to avoid the embarrassment of having the neighbours see how much we have to discard. This is in addition to the current small blue bin which we religiously fill every two weeks.
Depending on the size of the new bins, there may or may not be extra dollars involved. There’s some mumbo-jumbo in the flyer about taking the garbage collection charge out of taxes. However, if your family’s choice of bins is super-sized, there will be an additional fee and the net effect will be an increase in the total payment. Plus there are additional charges for tags to allow extra bags.
The Carrick family does recycle, but maybe not quite as conscientiously as some other people. I have not been totally pleased with garbage collection in our city for some time now. Garbage is only picked up once every two weeks. When there is a holiday, it is anybody’s guess when the next pickup will be. Also, our offerings are sometimes rejected. I can only assume that the collection trucks are now equipped with portable x-ray machines to ensure that unsuitable materials are not passed off as grade-A.
Furthermore, I’ve always been a little sceptical about the whole recycling business. Toronto currently sends its refuse to Michigan, but this cross-border access will terminate in 2010. One can easily understand why Michigan might not want Toronto’s leftovers. However, this leaves Toronto with another, smaller dump site near London Ontario. To stretch out the lifetime of this location, recycling is going to have to rise to 70% of the total from the current level of 42%. This is the reason for the new-sized bins, to encourage more recycling and less of the usual household waste.
The Carricks spend a lot of time driving around in areas of the province north of Toronto. I happen to know that beyond Barrie and Orillia, all the way to Hudson’s Bay, and both east to Ottawa and west to Winnipeg, there lies a land mass the size of Russia – if that’s an exaggeration, then it’s at least the size of two Germanies, a France and an Iceland – that has very little evidence of mankind in it.
I doubt that the population density of northern Ontario is as high as one person per square kilometre. There has got to be somewhere up there that we can leave stuff to rot. Five million people are being inconvenienced so as not to disturb what are mainly rocks, trees, moose and fish. I’m aware that this way of thinking is not politically correct and that David Suzuki would be very disappointed in me.
I know people who skulk around strip malls at night looking for unguarded dumpsters in which to discard their extra refuse. While I admire them, I don’t have their nerve. It would be too humiliating to get caught. I can see the headlines now, “Stakeout at Dumpster Leads to High-profile Arrest”. Maybe I’m flattering myself. Just the same, I know that my picture would be used to sell newspapers and that would lead to more recycling.
It has crossed my mind, however, to simply have a dumpster installed outside our kitchen window. On the surface of it, this would make life easier. But there would be one major drawback. I’d have to ride shotgun all night to keep the neighbours away.
Thank goodness the new bins are really big. They are an impressive and formidable sight when you see them lined up in a row along the curb on collection day. They even come with wheels. I’m not sure they’ll fit inside our garage along with the Jeep.
The grey one looks like it could just about handle a corpse. With the blue bin, we’ve had a stroke of luck. We’ve been able to rent it out as a residence to a really nice refugee family for six months of the year. It has an upstairs and a downstairs and there’s some talk about sub-letting. For the other six months of the year, our renters are counting on government assistance money to kick in and give them a lifestyle better than ours.
Like the soothsayers of old, I can read the entrails. A new era of garbage processing is upon us. Being realists, the Carricks will have to grow and adapt. On occasion, in the past, I have been accused of being too set in my ways. This isn’t fair. I’m really quite flexible, as long as everything stays the same.
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Thirteen Ways to Lure American Visitors to Canada
June 23, 2008
The number of visits by Americans to Canada has dropped way off over the last couple of years. We, as Canadians, have to find ways to turn this situation around. The following are 13 action steps or features to highlight about Canada that will attract U.S. tourists, business associates, relatives and friends back over the border.
(1) We promise to be polite.
(2) Have Shania Twain greet them at the border. She’s on her own again, you know.
(3) Get the message out that Toronto is Canadian English for Tijuana.
(4) Canada is just a little piece of Cuba. You can get there from here and Cuban cigars are so smooooth.
(5) Offer Americans free land in Muskoka.
(6) The grass on this side of the border is greener. And more potent. That’s B.C. “grass”, man.
(7) The “Canadian beer diet” just melts the pounds away.
(8) Our illegal aliens are from outer space.
(9) Offer them walk-on roles in Stargate Atlantis.
(10) It’s fun to say “eh”, eh?
(11) Our French aren’t as snooty as France’s French.
(12) Tell them that if they don’t come, then they’ve got to keep William Shatner. And
(13) Let it slip that we have oil.
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High Finance, Carrick Family Style
June 30, 2008
Towards the end of May, our daughter, Tammy-Li (aged 5), needed ten dollars for the “book fair” at her school. This set off a chain reaction of serpentine financial dealings that was awesome in its complexity.
By the way, there is a whole cottage industry based on selling “stuff” to kids at school. This ranges from jackets with the school logo on them through special meals, book fairs and trips to pick strawberries, pumpkins, apples and who knows what all else.
The vendors know that they have a captive market because no self-respecting parent can say no when the other children are being treated. However, most of the time, the Carrick family’s capacity for low self-esteem is under-estimated and we do find the fortitude to resist temptation.
My wife works hard as an accounts receivable manager and takes care of her own money. But on that day, she was running short. Plus the gas gauge on the van was dinging because it was only a vapour or two away from being out of fuel. I had noticed this the night before when I was jockeying the cars to get the jeep into the garage.
Donna got the ten dollars in change from my drawer in the bureau, but she also needed money for gas. Unfortunately, I was busted because I had spent whatever extra I had the night before on Mothers’ Day cards, but I couldn’t tell her that.
Therefore, Donna went to our second son (aged 9) for gas money. He accumulates his money from the weekly allowance he receives and never spends it on anything but gum. He’s become like the Federal Reserve to his parents, the lender of last resort. But he never lets us forget it when we have to turn to him in a pinch. It makes the whole exercise barely worth it.
Donna did borrow $60 from Ted, with the promise that dad would pay him back that night. I wondered how come I was suddenly involved.
However, this did crank up my thought processes. Our oldest son (aged 23) is now working and paying us rent. That’s great, but there must be some way to get more money out of him. Then it came to me. Donna and I had all of the family’s taxes done, including Tom’s, in early April. Surely Tom owed a portion of the auditing bill. A magic number came to mind, $60.
Tom, maybe naively, did understand his financial responsibility and said that he’d have the money for me later that day. This timing delay meant that I now needed “bridge financing” for lunch money. On the way to work, I stopped at the ATM machine and took out something on our line of credit. This left me in the same position I have found myself in throughout so much of my working life, praying for my next pay cheque.
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Which Letter of the Alphabet is the Funniest?
July 7, 2008
In the movie, The French Connection, the Gene Hackman character, “Popeye” Doyle, asks one of the drug- dealing suspects if he is still “picking his toes in Poughkeepsie?” He knew one of the great secrets of comedy. The letter “p” is the funniest letter in the alphabet.
W.C. Fields may have been the first to recognize this. He loved pronouncing p-words with a laid-back sneer, although apparently Mr. Fields was often pixilated, which made him a bit of a pill on a personal level. Most of the time, he’d have rather been in Philadelphia.
Words that begin with a “p” just bring a smile to your face. That’s why Spongebob Squarepants lives in a pineapple. And why a pasta past-ah its prime is such culinary perfection.
The 90210 gang of Beverly Hills had their best days at the Peach Pit. The most famous groundhog in the world lives in Punxsutawney.
Also in cartoon-land, Porky Pig was partly funny because of the high “p-quotient” in his name. And tweety bird was always seeing a “puddy tat”.
Petunias are the perkiest of plants. Even sunflowers don’t seem as happy.
Penelope, perambulate, patchouli oil and pie are all associated, at least for me, with pleasant times. Pennies are from heaven.
Parse the name Pocahontas. Was that a real name or was she saddled with a wicked pun (depending on what a “hontas” is) as a result of her Indian-Chief father’s twisted sense of humour?
Maybe I’m being too perspicacious. However, I do know that there is no funnier word in the English language than poop. Just ask a five-year-old.
I think it may be the way one’s lips pop when making the sound of “p”. Pessimists won’t agree with this analysis, but optimists (i.e., second-hand “p” users) will.
Then there are personality types. How can anyone who is persnickety be anything but mildly amusing? And being peculiar isn’t being threatening. It’s more like being odd, in an interesting way.
Is there any dance number that’s funnier than a “paso doble”. Okay, that’s not a good example. It’s play-acting at killing a bull. Maybe “p” isn’t funny in another language, such as Spanish. On the other hand, I’ve known many Pablos and read about a few Panchos, in great literature, and they were usually quite light hearted.
Say “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers”. Now try saying “Susan Sharky sought several secrets shaming sorrowful Sam.” It may just be the subject matter, but some of the fun has gone missing.
Possibly, probably, potentially, periodically, penultimately and positively “p” is the funniest letter of them all. Did I have a blast writing this article? You bet your sweet patootie.
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Taking Someone Else’s Child to the Cottage