(lygenztia *199) Marconi would have listened to Country and Western.

Why do people call in to radio stations to make song requests? This just doesn’t make any sense to me.

We now have MP3’s, CD’s, ipod’s and all kinds of personal music media. We also have computer radio stations, satellite radio and Youtube. All of these different medium carry any song that you want to hear almost instantly…only a click away.

Radio is basically all pre-programmed now anyway. I don’t know of any stations that even have “request hour” anymore. (Correct me if I’m wrong)

I just can’t imagine waiting 30-40 minutes on a phone to talk to a screener (NOBODY gets through to the actual radio host anymore) and then sit by the radio all day, hoping to hear my song? Ummmm…..no.

I love radio, don’t get me wrong. But radio, sadly, is on its way out. In less than 10 years, radio as we know it….will be gone. All radio will be internet based, with “independent” stations operating based on small, or one person operations.

Marconi gave us some great times though.

Queen-"Radio gaga"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiuD6i8dN1g

I'd sit alone and watch your light
My only friend through teenage nights
And everything I had to know
I heard it on my radio


(Radio)

You gave them all those old time stars
Through wars of worlds -- invaded by Mars
You made 'em laugh -- you made 'em cry
You made us feel like we could fly

So don't become some background noise
A backdrop for the girls and boys
Who just don't know or just don't care
And just complain when you're not there


You had your time, you had the power
You've yet to have your finest hour


(Radio)

All we hear is Radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is Radio ga ga
Radio blah blah
Radio what's new?


Radio, someone still loves you!

(lygenztia *198) Everyone out of the water.....

The sure sign of Fall is not the leaves changing colour, or the frost. For me, the sure sign is the “street flood”.


Everywhere you drive the last few days, you see flooded streets…...water flowing forcefully down the road. Water being pumped into the drains and ditches from backyard pools. Maybe I’m just getting too old, or sentimental but I find this kind of sad. It is a sight that I just hate to see.

Our best memories, for most of us, are those we have from the summer. I think it’s because it’s such a short, exciting season. Now, at this time of year, the pumps are washing those memories away. Barbeques, swims, an outdoor get together, young ones learning to swim…now, all just a memory.

April showers may bring May flowers. But, September street floods bring only the reminder that old man winter is going to come calling soon.

Too damn soon, at least for me.

(lygenztia *197) "Truck drivin' sonofagun"

My brother popped in the other night, sporting his new ride. He just purchased a brand spanking new beautiful black and chrome GM truck.


There is something just so exciting (maybe it’s a guy thing??) about a new truck. The shine, the smell, the look, the clean, powerful engine. It’s always an attention grabbing time when a new truck pulls into the driveway. You can see the neighbours peeking over….thinking to themselves “wow, what a nice truck”.

And nice it was. Congratulations Bro’!

Now if only everyone else, would get out there and buy a new GM truck. At the very least, you’ll be entitled to your share of “Andy Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame.”

Joe Diffie....."pick up man"

Well I got my first truck, when I was three,

Drove a hundred thousand miles on my knees
Hauled marbles and rocks, and thought twice before
I hauled a Barbie Doll bed for the girl next door
She tried to pay me with a kiss I began to understand,
There's just something women like about a PickUp Man

When I turned sixteen, I saved a few hundred bucks
My first car was a Pickup Truck
I was cruisin' the town and the first girl I seen
Was Bobbie Jo Gentry the homecoming queen
She flagged me down and climbed up in the cab, and said
"I never knew you were a Pickup Man!"

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

Most Friday nights, I can be found
In the bed of my truck on an old chaise lounge
Backed into my spot at the drive-in show
You know a cargo light gives off a romantic glow
I never have to wait in line at the popcorn stand,
'Cause there's just something women like about a pickup Man

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

A bucket of rust, or a brand new machine
Once around the block and you'll know what I mean

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
And I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

Yeah, there's something women like about a Pickup Man.

(lygenztia *196) hocus pocus AND abra cadabra

I had a really weird dream lately and was discussing the dream with an acquaintance of mine. The content of the dream actually isn’t even relevant. It was what happened afterwards that made things get “weirder”.


They produced a book that purported to interpret and explain what your dreams are meant to mean to you. Right. Every dream has some distinct “message” or theme that is meant to somehow enrich the life of the dreamer, or “warn them” of some impending disaster. Right.

So, if I dream about a lemon…and someone on the other side of the planet dreams about a lemon, we both are set to “find our true sense of purpose”? Right.

Better yet, if I dream about the Wizard of Oz and someone on the other side of the planet also dreams about the Wizard of Oz, we are both about to break out in a severe case of acne? Really? Wow…how insightful, scientific and well thought out.

Did you know that if you dream of a key, that you are about to encounter a problem? Phew! What a relief to know that. I have never had a problem in my life before, surely, like every other human on the planet. Good to know that if I dream about a key, I can prepare. Because now I know that I am going to have an impending problem. Wow, that is so helpful to the day to day management of a persons life.

I can only imagine the science that goes into dream interpreting. It must be pretty technical stuff. I’m sure they use blind trials, controlled testing, credible surveys and peer reviewed papers.

Do people really believe this hocus pocus? Do some people so badly need an escape from the humdrum of a day to day mundane existence that they put some stock in this foolishness?

I guess so, but if you put any faith in this bunk, then you are dreaming in technicolour.

(lygenztia *195) I don't think JGA Creighton envisioned it quite this way.

It’s a good thing that you need to wear a jock for hockey. Goodness knows that I’ve taken more than my share of kicks to that area lately.


Most of my hits to the jock have had nothing to do with the actual game, or playing it. But for whatever reason, they have all been indirect bodychecks that still managed to land squarely below the belt. Or, at least that’s how it felt.

I’ve given alot to the game and the people around me over the last 9 years. Much, much more than my share actually. I’ve never asked for anything in return, that was never why I volunteered anyway.

But the sum return on the investment in the game in a time of need? Zero. Less than that actually, because one or two good shots to the groin were thrown in, for good measure.

Nice.


Such is life and the world keeps turning. We move on.......or skate past the pylon, as it were.

(lygenztia *194) "At the sound of the beep, enter your numeric message"

Do you know what a “pager” says to the rest of the world? Well, strap on your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, ‘cause I’m going to tell you.

A person that carries a pager has a not so subtle message to the rest of us “commoners”. That message is….

”I am way too important to give you my phone number.”
“I am way too important to take your calls.”
“I will call you only when it is convenient for me.”

I mean, who the heck actually carries one of these things anymore? Well, i'll tell you who. (whom??)

Pretentious jerks carry pagers. And I’m told, so do most drug dealers. I don’t like either type.

If you really want to join “the rest of us”, get yourself a cell phone. (And for the drug dealers, get yourself a nice warm jail cell.)


http://affordablephones.net/pager.htm

(lygenztia *193) Where were you when the world stopped turning?

September 11th, 2001.

I can still remember it like it was yesterday. I can remember where I was, what I was doing, who first told me what was going on and how I felt.

Like it was yesterday.

I do not scare easily. But I can tell you on that day, I sure knew what fear felt like. Sadly, terrorism works, if we let it.

The world changed forever on that day and there is no turning back now. Canada and the U.S. have become seriously protected territories. (as have our allies) We're in this together and that's a fact.

Still, I can’t help but get the feeling that we are kind of like eggs in a carton. Well protected from being jostled, but still only a major hit away from seriously damaging the contents.

I just pray that the extremists are not waiting…….lulling us into a false sense of security, biding their time. I don’t live in fear. I’m not “scared”, but I’ll tell you one thing…I sure haven’t forgotten what that day was like.

Move forward and live your life. But don’t forget to look back every now and then. It’s an ugly sight, but we owe it to the dead, and to the survivors, never to forget.

__________________________________________________________________________________

"Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)" by Alan Jackson


Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Out in the yard with your wife and children
Working on some stage in LA


Did you stand there in shock at the site of
That black smoke rising against that blue sky


Did you shout out in anger
in fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry

Did you weep for the children
Who lost their dear loved ones
And pray for the ones who don't know


Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below

Did you burst out in pride
For the red white and blue
The heroes who died just doing what they do


Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself to what really matters

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran


But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us


And the greatest is love

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Teaching a class full of innocent children
Driving down some cold interstate


Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor
In a crowded room did you feel alone
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her
Did you dust off that bible at home


Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages
Speak with some stranger on the street


Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out and buy you a gun


Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns


Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger
Stand in line and give your own blood


Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran


But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us


And the greatest is love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran


But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young


Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us


And the greatest is love

The greatest is love


The greatest is love


Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day

(lygenztia *192) Let the kompoloi fall where the may.

My wife went to Greece recently and brought me back a set of “kompoloi”

Kompoloi are “worry beads”. They are, more or less, considered lucky beads that you carry around with you that are joined on a tassel. You can “google” or look them up in Wikipedia, if you want a more exact description.

They are really neat and I was quite interested to learn about an authentic Greek cultural symbol. I was very pleased to have my own set to carry around and fiddle with.

So, the very next day I happily set out for the day with beads in pocket. Problem is…..I lost the damn things, the very same day. Must have fell out of my pocket. So much for my foray into Greek culture.

Guess the kompoloi aren’t so lucky after all. At least for me......

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kombol%C3%B3i

http://images.google.ca/images?hl=en&source=hp&q=kompoloi&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=6faoSunQKZW2NtHEhKwG&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=6

(lygenztia *191) What the frig?

Some people substitute “Frig” for another vulgar word, thinking that this is more acceptable. But I have news for you, hypocrite, you are still swearing.

Substituting “Frig” for a word that…starts with the letter “F” and ends with the letter “K” and isn’t “fire truck” is still swearing.

The intent is there, the meaning is there, the spirit is there and the emphasis is there. You just attempted to make your cussing slightly more socially acceptable. That’s all.

When you say “Frig”, you really want to say that other word don’t you? You’re thinking it, you’re feeling it…..it’s right on the tip of your tongue. That big daddy, worst of the worst, “bad” word of them all.

But don’t think that you are kidding any of us. When you say “Frig”, we all know that you’re thinking and meaning that other word that starts with an “F” and ends with “K” .............but is not “fire truck”.


Potty mouth.

(lygenztia *190) "Ewww, that's scrodgee."

I’m going to conduct an experiment. I am going to make up a saying, or phrase and see if it makes its way into popular culture.

Have you ever wondered how newly entered phrases and sayings race their way around the globe? In this day and age, with the “inter-web”, it’s easy. But, a short couple of decades ago, it still happened. Albeit, with much less speed…or at least I’m guessing.

A phrase gets “invented” in small town Ontario. A resident of small town Ontario visits New York and uses the phrase, some New Yorker picks up on it. The New Yorker visits Australia and an Aussie picks up on it. All the sudden, the phrase has gone global.

But how fast does it happen? I guess it just depends on who uses the phrase. It’s almost like the wave in a sports stadium. Sometimes, it goes around…..other times it fizzles.

So, here goes my invented phrase, or word.

“scrodgee”

Pronounced-SKROD-GEE
Defined as: gross, messy or dirty

For example:
“did you see that roadkill? Man, that is scrodgee.”
“ I gotta wash up, i’m feeling pretty scrodgee”

Now go forward and use “scrodgee”. Let’s see if it makes it around.

(lygenztia *189) Damn, I needed that!

For most people, annual major cleanouts of basements and garages are commonplace. Some of us (like me) keep way too much junk around. The major clean up can be such a rewarding experience. “Cleaning out the old, bringing in the new”, so to speak. The problem is, that it seems like the item(s) that you haven’t needed for the last 7 years are ALWAYS the item that you need, less than one week after you have thrown them out.

For me, it’s always the same when I clean out my garage. I pick something up and think to myself “better not throw that out, might need it someday”. Really? When exactly am I going to use (or need) that giant foam hand that says “GO EXPOS!”? Or, the plastic lawn sign the driveway sealers left behind. Yup, you never know when you'll need one of those. Might start up a driveway sealing company one of these days.

I hate camping. Haven’t been camping in years. Sleeping in dirt and pools of water no longer appeals to me. However, I have enough camping equipment to outfit a military regiment for a week long outing. Better not get rid of it, though. “might need it someday”. Not bloody likely, I can assure you of that.

In the last round, I just “closed my eyes” and threw out (or got rid of) all kinds of old junk. Now, there is plenty of room in my garage and I have a TV/stereo and DVD player out there. I even managed to dig out my heavy bag to hang it up for some intense work outs. It’s now an awesome place to hang out, it’s pretty darn cool in there.

The problem is, I threw out all the wires and jacks to hook up the TV/stereo and DVD player. And, I threw out the cables and shackle to hang my heavy bag. So, off I go, with cash in hand........ to “bring in the new”.

Sigh…………….


http://www.homemadesimple.com/en_US/nbrcontent.do?contentType=ol&articleId=ar023

(lygenztia *188) Well, yes. But that's "different".

Funny how some people feel that the rules shouldn’t necessarily apply to them, like they do to you. Maybe it’s because they think they’re special (in a superior kind of way), or maybe they are just inconsiderate. Or maybe, just selfish, mean or self absorbed. (or all of the above)

We used to billet hockey players and some had their own car. Funny thing, one of my neighbours didn’t like them parking on the street. Thought that it “looked bad”. Ok, whatever, fine….I don’t really want to battle over it. I can be a team player. So, we went to extraordinary lengths to make sure all 3 cars always fit in the driveway. Everybody’s happy. Right?

Now, the same neighbour has 3 cars. And GUESS WHAT? Just guess. Seriously, take a guess what the issue is? (Hint-hint….parking.)

You see, now, they park one of their cars on the street. However, i’m not going to raise a stink because:
a) I don’t care
b) Life’s too short to worry about such things

They see no problem whatsoever with parking the 3rd car on the street. Because, “that’s different”. They have a special set of circumstances that are different from every single other person in the neighbourhood.

Yup, they’re special alright. Very special.

(lygenztia *187) What were they thinking?

People can do really unusual things sometimes. Have you ever seen something and thought to yourself, “what the heck were they thinking?”. This usually applies when you see something weird in front of someone’s house. Sometimes, it’s just something odd in a totally random place.


Case in point, I am driving by my brother-in-laws house last week and saw the “car” that is in the photo above this blog. I stopped a few days later and asked my brother-in-law….”soooo, what’s up with the wrecked car in front of your neighbor’s house?”

His reply was that the neighbor got into some sort of disagreement with his father, so he took an axe and a saw to his own car, to prove a point. Then, he parked what was left of the “car” in front of the house on a busy road for everyone to see. Um, okay. I have been perturbed at my dad before, but it never really occurred to me to tear my car apart with an axe. Just not something that crosses the average persons mind, I guess.


What was he thinking?

To be honest, I’d feel better if I DIDN’T know what he was thinking.

(lygenztia *186) Ticket holder refund in the form of a cosmetics gift certificate?

So, tickets for Bill Clinton’s oratory at the CNE (Canadian National Exhibition) didn’t sell well. They started at $50 bucks a pop and are now being offered for $5 bucks at the door. (that’s $5 bucks Canadian, eh Bill)


To me, it’s no surprise that Canadians didn’t want to go and listen to Bill Clinton’s oratory. (well, at least pay to listen to his oratory, as opposed to discuss his past history as it relates to his…..”oratory”)

Our country’s politics just aren’t like the Americans politics. That’s neither good, nor bad. It just “is what it is.” When it comes to public oratory, I’m not certain that most Canadians do not have the same experiences as Bill, to relate to. We are definitely more reserved, especially about public oratory.

I would be ticked off if I paid $50 dollars for a ticket, when I could get one for $5 at the door. (plus, I’d be an idiot for paying $50 dollars in the first place) Maybe, its money well spent. Bill may be able to inspire his audience, through his oratory to go forward and think about perhaps one day, performing their own oratory. Maybe, with some confidence, even a public oratory.

Would I like to meet Bill Clinton? Sure…
Would I like to have a chat with Bill Clinton? Love to…he’s a fascinating man.

But, I certainly am not paying $50 dollars (or even $5) to go and listen to him “talk at me” for about an hour. To me, that is much too high a price to pay for public oratory, even delivered by Bill Clinton.

If I were to meet Bill, we could talk dresses, or cigars. Maybe proper placement of office furniture? The benefits of working late could be another topic. Which laundry detergents work better than others? Where does someone brush their teeth in the oval office? You know, the usual stuff people banter around.

Yes, I am sure that we could come up with some casual fireside chat. But even I know that paying $50 bucks to hear his speech isn’t going to make me warm up to him. Despite his world renowned skills, when it comes to his oratory ability.

(lygenztia *185) Another "name" blog....BORING

Oh well, here goes. It’s not really a beef, more a point of pontification. I think about weird things sometimes. What I want to know is, what is going to happen to all of these “hyphenated names” in the next 2-3 generations? To me, you either take your husband/wife’s surname, or just keep your pre-married surname.

The whole “hyphenated name” thing is bizarre. To me, it makes no sense whatsoever.

Follow along with my rock solid scientific example of hyphenated lineage.

John Smith falls madly in love with and marries Jane Jones. They decide to hyphenate their name. They become John Smith-Jones and his wife, Jane Jones-Smith. Ok, whatever…..but keep going.

Bob Garden falls madly in love with and marries Jean Keys. They decide to hyphenate their name. Bob Garden becomes Bob Garden-Keys and his wife, Jean Keys-Garden.

John Smith-Jones and Jane Jones-Smith have a daughter. We’ll call her Melissa Jones-Smith. Bob Garden-Keys and Jean Keys-Garden have a son. We’ll call him Dallas Garden-Keys. (you know where i'm going with this, don't you?)

Melissa Jones-Smith meets and falls madly in love with and marries Dallas Garden-Keys. They decide to hyphenate their names. So, you get………….
Melissa Jones-Smith/Garden-Keys and Dallas Garden-Keys/Jones-Smith?

Just wait until the next generation after Melissa and Dallas sets out to marry.

Yes, this cute little “hyphen” experiment is going to work out just fine.

(lygenztia *184) It's all in the name.

Have you ever “googled” your own name? If you have some time to kill and are in front of your computer, try it. It’s a hoot.

I did recently and found out that some very impressive people share my name. Kinda made me jealous, actually. Dentist? Artist? Scientist with peer reviewed papers? Professional athlete? Wow!

I am in some pretty impressive company.

I just hope that anybody that is “googling” or “looking” for me isn’t disappointed when they find out that I have not reached such lofty heights. (Like the other “me’s” of the world have.)

Like I said, I am in some pretty impressive company. Must be in the name.

(lygenztia *183) No, that was the remnants of a tropical storm.

I don’t get why every time a funnel cloud is spotted, Environment Canada immediately denies it. Why? Is there some secret that we’re not supposed to know?

People will get actual video of funnel clouds. Environment Canada’s response? “Oh no you didn’t.”

What the hell? It’s on video. The only thing I know about storms and meteorology is what Dave Devall and CFTO news taught me growing up. But even I know what serious funnel clouds look like.

Storms will pass through an area, wreak havoc and eyewitnesses will report seeing funnel clouds. But Environment Canada’s take on things? Well, they will “investigate” and get back to us. Just a way out thought here, but maybe you should watch the video that 9 different people (in different parts of town) took of the “alleged” funnel clouds.

Then what do they do? They send someone to check it out and that “someone” says..”yup, it may have been a funnel cloud. But none of you saw it.”

Something is rotten in the State of Denmark. Fortunately, the alleged funnel clouds are moving the smell away from the city.

(lygenztia *182) PROTECT YOUR PIN

OK.

Insert card.
Enter PIN.
Choose withdrawal amount.
Take card and money.

That’s it. That’s all there is to "them newfangled” bank machines. I stood behind a guy last night for what seemed like an eternity at an ABM in a grocery store. No “banking” can be conducted at this machine. Can’t do deposits, bill payments, account balances, transfers, anything of the sort. Just straight up withdrawals.

He looked just like anyone else. Pulled in ahead of me in his car. Got out with his wife/girlfriend. Anyway, back to the bank machine…..

The guy puts his card in and just stares at the display. (already, the alarm bells are going off in my mind) He gave no thought whatsoever to “hiding his PIN”. You can just see his thought pattern….He hesitates….not sure, concerned, palms getting sweaty. “Oh the stress of it all…It wants to know how much money I want. What am I to do? So many choices…”

OK, here’s a thought. Enter into the keypad how much money you want. If that money is in your account, it will dispense it to you and you can go forward and purchase goods and services.

Or, hide the cash under your pillow. Either way, you showed that dang bank machine who's the boss.

(lygenztia *181) That's a big 10-4, good buddy!

Saw a pick up truck today with the driver’s name painted on the door. On the other side, his “lucky lady’s” name was painted on the passenger door.

People still do this?

I know back in the 70’s when we had “Smokey and the Bandit” and “B.J. and the Bear”, this was “cool”. For those of you that don’t recall, “B.J. and the Bear” was a “TV show” (and I use that term loosely) about a trucker who drove around with a monkey that saved his life in Vietnam, while he got into a fight in every truck stop. (perfectly plausible premise)

Anyway, anyway…as I was saying, who paints their name on their truck door and then their girlfriend/wife’s name on the passenger door? Do they do this in case they think they might be getting in the wrong vehicle? Do they do this because they want the world to know that they’re called “Bubba” and their “lucky lady’s name” is Laur-leen?

Do they do this because Burt Reynolds did it? Well, at least I think the “Bandit” did it.

Even better….the single guys that paint their own name on their truck door, then paint “lucky lady” on the passenger door. My guess is, the guys that painted an actual girls name on the passenger door, just made the name up.

(Glen A. Larson-lyrics to B.J. and the Bear)

Hey there where ya goin',

Not exactly knowin'

Who says you have to call just one place home.

He's goin' everywhere,

B.J. McKay and his best friend Bear.

He just keeps on movin',

Ladies keep improvin'

Every day is better than the last.

New dreams and better scenes,

And best of all I don't pay property tax.

Rollin' down to Dallas,

Who's providin' my palace,

Off to New Orleans or who knows where.

Places new and ladies, too,

I'm B.J. McKay and this is my best friend Bear.

(lygenztia *180) Better safe than sorry.....

You can always tell someone that has too much time on their hands by the equipment they wear when doing a household chore. With all that time on your hands, preparation for the task is just another way to while away the day.

I saw a person power washing their deck the other day, fully decked out. They looked like a radiation containment team member, going into a nuclear accident. It was actually hilarious. Giant rubber boots, full face mask, apron, safety goggles, gauntlet rubber gloves and what looked like some kind of industrial shower cap.

OK, granted, they were power washing their deck. Tell me again what the nature of the “hazard” is, that would require such extensive equipment? Its water…now granted it comes out a little fast, but its water.

One of my neighbors mows his lawn and looks like a west coast logger. Wears safety boots (OK, I’ll give you that), big goggles, (That too). But also…. heavy leather welders gloves and industrial chaps. I dunno, maybe his mower threw a rock once, hit him and now he’s freaked out.

Oddly enough, the same type of guy that dress up with all the gear……is always the first ones to take their shirt off in the nice weather, to give us a good look at that hairy, jiggly belly, complete with their “man breasts” pointing at the ground..

Now THAT scene, needs protective equipment. At least, for my eyes.

(lygenztia *179) oooh, the attack of the "killer bees" in Toronto.

NEWSFLASH!!!!!

Wasp infestation in Toronto. It’s a crisis of epic proportions, just watch the “Toronto-centric news”...they'll tell you. (kinda like calling in the Army for some snow...)

Ya, ya, you have some wasp nests or hives whatever they call them. But, I have news for you. So does the rest of Canada and I am guessing maybe, just maybe the good old U.S.A. But they don’t go freaking out, putting “safety bulletins” in the media…… warning (terrifying) people about the “dangers” and hazards.

“Call a professional exterminator”
“Use extreme caution”

Because them “Toronto wasps” are way wickeder than the ones in the rest of the world, where people deal with them without panic.

You might be surprised what a garden hose, the right time of day and a little common sense would accomplish. But then, there would be no panic, or story to accompany this “crisis” would there?

Sheesh, it’s no wonder the rest of Canada makes fun of you.

(lygenztia *178) Get it into ya. Mmmmm...heat.

Worst June and July ever. No heat at all.

First week of August was OK, but not great. Now, the heat is here and I love it! I am all about the heat. For all you complainers, “tuff tittie”. It’s summer. Make the most of it.

"Smog alerts", "humidity indexes", "special weather advisories", wicked thunderstorms, "heat alerts" (only in Toronto though, because they have "special heat"). All these things come with summer.

Shut up. Quit your whining and crying. Enough with the hyperbole. Get outside and enjoy the beautiful Canadian summer weather. If the heat poses a hazard to you then fine, go to an air-conditioned mall, or library. Go see a movie.

But for the “too hot” whiner crowd, toughen up buttercup and get some sun into ya.

Like my Dad used to say…..”you want something to cry about, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Well here it is……….

The impending Canadian snow is only a mere (approximately) 90 days away.

Now, that is something to cry about.

(lygenztia *177) Buses are cool...ayyyyyyyy!

I think public transportation is excellent. Nothing wrong with it at all. More people (including myself) should make better use of it.

What I get a kick out of, is the “too cool transit rider” that you see waiting for the next bus. If you know the type of which I speak, you’ve spotted him. (it’s never a girl) They stand around the bus stop and try way too hard to look cool. Usually, they have a “I am way too cool” for this look on their face. The look that is trying to tell all the passersby that “at home, I have a Corvette.” Ya, sure you do.

I thought it was just me, but today I was driving by a bus stop with my son and spotted a “too cool transit rider”. I said to my son…”hey bud, look at that guy and tell me what you see?” His answer?

“Some guy trying to look cool waiting for the bus.” We both laughed and laughed. Now, we weren’t laughing because someone was taking the bus. Like I said, that’s awesome. Not a thing wrong with public transit.

We were laughing at “Joe Cool” (well, at least he was….. in his opinion of himself) who was just “too cool” for that darn bus. Funny thing….he sure seemed to be going nowhere without it. These types are always the same. Early 20’s, unemployed, lost or never had their license and the only “car” they ever had was their parents vehicle, that they wrecked while drinking and driving. The bus isn’t to take him to work (the predominant use for the vast majority of transit riders). Oh no, It’s to take him to the next party.

My guess is, he’ll catch that bus, count his nickels and dimes and get on. But, he’s going nowhere anyway.

(lygenztia *176) The lazy, hazy hammock days of summer.

Currently, albeit very belatedly, we are into the “dog days of summer”. The number one symbol of summer is definitely the hammock. I love my hammock. I think everyone should have a hammock. Ahhhhhh, a nice cool drink, sunshine..radio playing.

Yep, that’s heaven defined.

My dogs like the hammock too, and Lord knows dogs are always right. And dogs know all about the dog days of summer. (they invented it)

There should be one day per summer that is designated as “Hammock Day”. On that day, no work is to be performed. Just laying on the good old hammock. If it rains, Federal law should state that hammock day is moved to the following nice Saturday.

If you have a hammock, you get what I’m saying. Hammock people are special. Some might say lazy, but I say “nay”, we are special. If you don’t have a hammock, you just have to try it.

I may take my hammock to the next gathering I attend and start a religious group based on the hammock. Maybe call it……

The “special lazy anti-vertical continually keeping everyone reclining society”

“SLACKERS” Ya….I like that.

(lygenztia *175) Where are you RIGHT NOW?

Nobody is in the moment anymore. Seriously, look around you. Everywhere you look, someone is on the phone/mobile device…talking (or texting) to someone that is not actually there. “Live updates” as the “action” unfolds. What the heck have we all become? Roving reporters, or paparazzi?

And why do they call someone else that’s not there? To tell them how great it is where they are, but they really aren’t there fully themselves, because they are talking/texting to someone that isn’t ether. (OK, re-read that..’cause it’s sorta profound)

How great can it be, if you have to call someone that’s not there to convince him or her that it’s awesome to be where you are?

Live for the moment. Carpe Diem. Be where you are fully and digest every little bit of it. You never know what you’ll miss. Maybe your least favorite Uncle’s pants will fall down while he is making a speech at a family function. Who would want to miss that?

Now, the flip side is….

Maybe you don’t want to be where you are. Maybe you are wishing that you were at the place that your friend is texting you from. But then, that place has to suck too, or they wouldn’t have taken their attention away to call or text you. Right??

It’s just friggin weird, that’s all.

(lygenztia *174) 92-93 World Series "re-union"?

OK…….but it’s 2009? So that could be construed as 16 or 17 years since the Blue Jays won the World Series back to back. (which was absolutely awesome and kept me glued to the TV and radio) So, what exactly is significant about the 16th anniversary, or 17th? (or almost 2 decades ago?) I think the marketing people are digging pretty deep here.

A cynical person might see this as a ploy to sell seats.

I think that the “re-unions” and commemorations that some of the major sports Teams (all sports) are doing nowadays actually diminish and cheapen the past accomplishments. Think about it….20th anniversary, 25th anniversary yup, that is significant. I’ll float you that one.

But there is this recent trend towards trumpeting out relatively obscure date correlations to major events and vice versa. For example:
“Fans, for this evenings special commemoration ceremonies, we present to you…...none other than the hot dog vendor for the 1981 Champions, who is now celebrating his 47th birthday. Let’s give it up for him fans!”

Huh? Who…..and he did what, when? Some of these things are downright embarrassing and you even see the fans looking around saying to eachother…”who the hell is that?”
(Someone responds that they think it may have been the goalies 2nd grade teacher)

The commemorations should be rare, deserving and dignified. Not an awkward, forced “celebration”.

(lygenztia *173) I'm the captain of this ship.....

Kinda fell into a new thing this summer. Always enjoyed kayaking when at friend’s cottages, etc. but it never really occurred to me to buy one. Always been a power boat kinda guy. Living close to Lake Ontario and some fairly deep creeks, small bodies of water and marshes, I figured I’d take it up.

I wish I would have started 25 years ago. Excellent work out, peaceful outing and a great way to de-stress and lower the blood pressure. I got adventurous one day and took my camera, hoping that I wouldn’t “dump”, or flip into the water. Took a few photos of some of the scenery for the blog.

A few times now, I have taken my fishing pole as I can get into spots that the boats and creekside anglers can’t. That’s kinda neat.

Where I go, on any given day you can see fish jumping, Blue Herons, Trumpet Swans, Canada Geese and numerous ducks. The geese will come in to land, or take off and literally fly within a few feet of your head. It really is exhilarating.

I recently injured my leg and am having some grief with my calf. Still needing my fix, I hobble around, load up the little boat and just wait for someone to come by the launch. I always find someone to ask help me carry the kayak to the water. Every time, people are quick to help….which is kinda cool too.

Here’s hoping for an Indian Summer to prolong my adventures.

(lygenztia *172) Just shaddup....

Once upon a time I was an active forum contributor on a hockey forum and to a lesser extent, a lacrosse forum. I stopped posting opinion and limit myself to putting up information relating to updates/broadcast information for a sports organization that I belong to.

Why did I stop posting “opinion”?

First…I got into it pretty good with a guy in a hockey forum. Actually got to the point that it was getting pretty ugly. Through our “correspondence” and sheer coincidence we determined that I had bought the house he grew up in. Things simmered down eventually and I ended up meeting him and invited him back to the “old house” for a look around at the old neighborhood and a beer. Turns out, he lost one of his parents while he lived here.

Second…and quite funny, was a debate that I was having on a hockey forum. It was going back and forth and was fun, nothing serious but a good debate. Then, my son comes up to me one day laughing and tells me that the “guy” that I have been arguing with was his buddy. (Whose brother played in the OHL)

What’s funny? The “guy” I was debating with was 11 years old.

What’s the moral of the story? Heck, I don’t know.

What I do know is….there are some people that take these sports forum/message boards way too seriously. They need to actually get away from their insular little computer world and actually go outside out and enjoy some games….or at the very least, their own back yard.

(lygenztia *171) Not my food...puhleez.

Is there anything grosser, or more inconsiderate than some idiot that touches your food? I hate it when some jerk comes up and puts their hand on your food and says “is this for me?” Then they give you that “oh I am so sly” grin, like they are the funniest person in the world.

Of course you’re not. Jerk.

And it doesn’t do any good to get mad either. Gross people can’t be educated into having class, that’s why they’re gross.

The “clever”, “funny” person that touched your food always looks at you like you are the one with the problem. “What’s your problem, my hands are clean?” is the common comment. Ya right, like anyone is going to admit they just picked their nose, left the washroom without washing, or was handling nuclear waste.

For all I know, you just had your finger in your nose, mouth…or somewhere way lower on the musculo-skeletal equator. Maybe, you just had a “smoke”, which is wickedly grosser than any conceivable body secretion.

If anyone touches my food, I throw it out. I ain’t eating that.

I just ain’t.

(lygenztia *170) Mother Nature, I want a refund.

The weather of summer of 2009, so far, has been awful. If anyone knows Mother Nature's phone number, please forward it to me. I need to contact her about a refund.

Sheesh....

The folllowing "song" can be sand to the tune of "Where are you Christmas?"

“Where Are You Summer"

Where are you summer

Why can't I find you

Why have you gone away

Where is the sunshine

You used to bring me

Why can't I feel the heat this day

My world is changing

I'm rearranging

Does that mean global warming changes summer too
I need a barbeque
I need a street doo

Where are you summer

Do you remember

The one you used to know
Popsicles, sunburns..cold beer on the patio

See what the time's done

Is that why you have let me go

Summer is here

Everywhere, oh

Summer is here

If you care, oh show us the sun

Summer lives in your heart and your mind

You will feel like summer all the time

I feel you summer

I know I've found you
I just can’t feel your heat
I miss your sunburns

The joy of summer

Stays here inside us
When will we need our central air con

Where are you summer

Fills each and every heart with love

(lygenztia *169) Is this seat taken?

I don’t get people that always have to be close to……other people. I call them “klingons” and not of the Star Trek variety. You know the type. You’re at a movie theatre, nicely nestled in and there are tons of seats available. In comes the person that sits right beside you, despite 60% empty seats.

You park your car way back in a parking lot, away from the other cars. (for whatever reason) Then along comes somebody that parks right beside you, even though there are tons of spots that are way closer.

You are in a restaurant, looking for some privacy and sit in the back. Along comes the person that sees you way in the back and…you guessed it. They have to come and sit right beside you.

Socialization is good, I like people and I like being around people. However, sometimes you just want to go into your cocoon and have some “down time”. This always seems to be the time that the “klingon” approaches.

I’m not really sure if they are lonely, or find comfort being close to others. Or, maybe they are just deliberately trying to be annoying.

But annoying it is…………

(lygenztia *168) The "free lunch" (for Canadians)

On Canada Day, the Mandarin restaurant opened its doors free of charge to anyone that could prove Canadian citizenship. Jimmy Chiu is the co-founder of the Mandarin and a true Canadian. He immigrated to Canada about 5 years ago, set up his business and provided employment for many other Canadians. What a great way to show your patriotism and give something back to the country that has been so good to you.

It sure is nice to see someone, for a change, give recognition on a large scale to our wonderful country.

http://www.mandarinbuffet.com/events.asp

So, what’s the problem you ask ?

Now, he is being slagged for being “exclusionary” and “violating people’s human rights” for allowing only Canadians in for free. What a joke. People were complaining that they couldn’t get in, that the line ups were too long. That’s because it was FREE.

When something is FREE, you should expect some inconvenience. Because other people are also going to come, to take advantage of something that’s FREE. At least, if you have time to wait in line-ups ALL DAY just for a free lunch.......think of the rest of the Canadians, that go to work....... each and every day to pay for our lunch.

I plan to go to the Mandarin soon, to show my support….and I’m going to bring my money.

Support for Jimmy Chiu, a true Canadian.

Thanks Mandarin!

http://toronto.ctv.ca/servlet/an/local/CTVNews/20090701/to_cday_090701/20090701/?hub=TorontoNewHome

(lygenztia *167) Happy Canada Day!

And a great day it is. I have fond memories of taking the kids to community activities when they were younger and loved being a part of all those fun times. As they get older, their interest in that kind of thing has waned. (for them)

Most of us enjoy this day off and while our celebrations are somewhat more subdued than the American version, we enjoy it in our own special way as Canadians. Community events, family get tog ether’s, barbeques and….fireworks. (If you don’t like fireworks, there really is something wrong with you.)

There is a big city worker strike in Toronto this year, but I see this as an opportunity as opposed to a setback. What a great chance to get out of the city and experience all that small town Ontario has to offer. For years many have flocked to Toronto for celebrations. This year, its a great chance to buck that trend and head to the lake in “Pleasantville”, Ontario.

After all, small town Canada is Canada Day more than Toronto ever will be.

Canada kicks ass.

Enjoy the day Canada!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvskLypt0c4

I know this place is where i am

no other place is better than

no matter where i go i am

proud to be Canadian!

i am, you know i am

i am Canadian

i am, you know i am

i am Canadian

come on!

i love this country where i am

this land is where i make my stand

no other heart is truer than

the one we call Canadian

sing it!

i am, you know i am

know i am.... i am Canadian

i am, you know i am

know i am

i am Canadian

i am Canadian!

(lygenztia *166) The "dreaded" golf tournament

Today, I am in a golf tournament with my beer league hockey team. It’s a “friendly”. This is a wondrous occasion, completed by decadent cigars, stylish clothing and…beer. Lots and lots of beer. With any luck, there will be a poker game “just for fun” afterwards.

Some of the wives will complain that we drank too much. Some will just laugh it off…and some will have an after drink with us.

The “friendly” isn’t really about golf. It definitely isn’t about winning….it’s more about getting out with the guys, letting off some stress and acting like 10 year olds. We will “chirp” (tease) each other mercilessly. We will fart and then laugh hysterically. We’ll get mad when we make a bad shot, but then pretend it doesn’t matter. We’ll think of ways to mess up the Teams behind and ahead of us.

Most of us will tastefully flirt with the beer girl that drives around on the beer cart, serving refreshments. (actually all of us will, but some will tell their wives they “didn’t even notice her”..ya, right) This “flirt” is so harmless it’s laughable. All of us 40-somethings will act charming with the drop dead gorgeous 20 year old beer girl. She plays along to make us feel good, (and feeling sorry for us) knowing full well that 40-somethings will tip very, very well and go home to their beautiful wives. It’s a harmless game….

It’s also the day the rookie golfers and “non golfers” love. They get out on the links and pretend in their mind that they are Mike Weir. They actually will pray for just one good drive in front of the guys. If they do get a decent drive, the guys will tease them like crazy, which is good. Because, on the inside, the rookie feels like he’s king of the world for a brief, fleeting moment.

At the after party, we’ll laugh, tell lies about how great we played and be very careful about which stories we “re-tell” in front of our wives. It’s not that we did anything “wrong”, we just don’t want our wives to know for certain that we can’t act properly without them around.

Mercifully, our wives will make sure that we get enough to eat. They know full well, that after we have had a few, we aren’t smart enough to actually take in some sustenance. The guys master plan is always to have “one more beer” before we eat. This usually leads to an early nap.

As the night wears on at the after party, the scene gets quite funny. Some of the guys will be “tired” and need to have a sleep on the swing, the shed, or in some cases, the lawn. (see previous paragraph)

The whole day is therapeutic and does wonders for our stress levels. The only problem with the tournament and the after party….is the morning after the after party.

(Lygenztia *165) That's "man's work"

Weekly tasks (for men)

Garbage-approximately 30 minutes-and gross
Recycle-approximately 1 hour-sorting and GROSS
Grass cutting 1.5 hours-twice weekly
Grass trimming or “weed whacking”-1 hour weekly
Cleaning dog poo-1 hour weekly and GROSS

Washing the car(s)- 1- 1.5 hours weekly

Total-7.5 hours week, approximately (summer)

This does not include all of the other various and sundry “little items” that we attend to on a weekly basis.

The last two winters saw record setting snowfalls, which required snow removal that took anywhere from 5-10 hours per week. It is hard, cold work. (wives think, for some strange reason, that we find this activity “fun”.)

Then, there are the leaves in the fall. We have a large lot, with a mature Oak and Maple. We also have a crabapple, cheery and 3 lilac trees. 10-15 leaf bags a week, for about 3 weeks in a row. Yep, that’s a real party. Especially when you are scooping them up by hand and get a little present from the dogs mixed in.

Ok, I’ll do more laundry. (be prepared to see most of it ruined) I’ll cook more too. (barbeque steak is pretty much gonna be the norm) I’ll pick up after myself more, but you should know, most of my “stuff” will just get hidden under the bed.

I think it’s a good deal. We (men) do the outside stuff. Women do the “inside” stuff. I think laundry could be fun. I think that dusting and vacuuming could be turned into some solid work out routine, which is “fun”.

Like really, c’mon…how long does laundry, vaccuming and dusting take? 30-40 minutes? Walk in the park.

Now, if you’ll excuse me….I have to go on backyard poo patrol. Yep, that’s “fun”.

(lygenztia *164) Father's Day eh?

Well, here’s some helpful hints for the wives and daughters that see this as an “occasion”. (son’s “get it”)

Following, is what DAD’s want on Father’s Day:
-a day off to go golfing, fishing, watch a race, or do something that DAD likes to do.
-a day off without worldly distractions, stress, “jobs”, or deep conversation.
-a nice backyard barbeque, without having the fun planned right out of it and close family around.
-home-made cards from our kids.
-one hour without distractions to actually read the newspaper.
-be allowed to lay on the couch and watch an entire NASCAR race. (or the U.S. Open)

Following is NOT what DAD’s want on Father’s Day:
-a “nice” visit with an 97 year old aunt (on our wives side), who is a 3 hour drive away.
-a “nice” visit at our mother-in-law’s house.
-a “fun” shopping trip.
-wake us up at 6:45AM to start getting ready for a nice father’s day breakfast at a restaurant that will have a one hour line up, just to get a table.
-a trip to the local garden center (which is packed to the rafters with other gardeners) to help select the colour of the annual flowers that we have to go home and plant.

The basic difference between Mom’s and Dad’s on their “day” is this. Mom’s want to be recognized on Mother’s Day. They want a plan,…..a chain of events, a pinnacle. Which is great, nothing wrong with that. It’s the old “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” thing.

Dad’s? We just want to have a day off. We’re simple and easy to please.

Well, mostly simple.

“A father is a fellow who has replaced the currency in his wallet with the snapshots of his kids.” (unknown)

(lygenztia *163) The Suzuki family, we're not.

My kids are environmental experts, just ask them. I had no idea that the education system was so rife with environmental sciences experts to indoctrinate our future leaders. Yet, this pleases me, because it may just save me some money.

My kids will roil against carbon producing cars, until of course, they need a ride somewhere. (as parents, and concerned citizens of the world, we encourage them to walk or use public transportation)

They will not drink water out of a re-usable bottle and insist on the plastic water bottles from the grocery store. (as parents, and concerned citizens of the world, we encourage the use of re-usable bottles and use them ourselves.)

They will preach about the “dangers” of nuclear energy and pollution from coal fire electric plants…but yet, will not (ever) turn off a light. (as parents, and concerned citizens of the world, we encourage them constantly to turn off the lights)

They worry about our fresh water supply, yet they change their clothes three times a day. (as parents, and concerned citizens of the world, we encourage them to wear the same clothes all day, like we do ourselves.)

They won’t take the reusable grocery bags to the store, because that’s “ghetto”. (as parents, and concerned citizens of the world, we use these bags and I don’t think we’re “ghetto”.)

Yes, their concern about our planet knows no bounds, unless of course that concern inconveniences them.

So, tell me again who the concerned environmentalists are?

(lygenztia *162) Will that be cash, or your SIN number?

Have you ever been asked for personal information when you bought something recently? Is it just me, or is this really aggravating?

You pay for something in cash. Then, they want your home phone, e-mail and address. They say it’s for “warranty purposes”. Ya right. Sure, sure, the warranty…that’s it.

So, the .99 cent package of batteries, or bag of chips are FULLY COVERED under warranty right? Right. Maybe instead of the “warranty” they just want to mail me garbage, send me unsolicited e-mails and call me about more garbage.

I just love how some of these clerks seem to have been trained to lie to us, but I get a wee bit uppity when they give me attitude. I actually refuse to buy the item(s) if they insist on my personal information. They say they “need it”, or the system won’t process the sale.

I asked the clerk once……”first, you tell me your full name, address and phone number.” She looked at me like I was a serial killer that was stalking her. (I was only trying to make a point, I wasn’t the least bit interested in her information.) So basically the store, company…whatever, can stalk the consumer? That is different and totally cool?

It sucks.

But as usual, Canadian consumers have little or no protections and we take every single heap of horse crap thrown our way in stride.

So, for all the corporations that want my personal information…here’s my postal code:

G02 HEL

(lygenztia *161) Today, I made a statement! (that I can be an idiot)

Traffic in Toronto, at any given time is a nightmare. Toronto City Council is at war with the car and everyone is losing, but alas, this is not a political column.

So, I am stuck in some type of traffic quagmire and people around me start beeping their horns. Because, you know, it’s been scientifically proven that if you beep your horn, traffic will magically begin to move.

Anyway, being in a playful, silly mood I decide to beep my horn too. But I only do it at the most inappropriate times and make sure that I am laughing when I do. A few times I even beep the staccatto tune…da du du du da daaa daaaa! (c’mon we’ve all done that) Other motorists all the sudden do not make eye contact. Some look very, very concerned and nervous. (Because you know, I may have snapped and have a rocket launcher in my car)

A few with some intelligence started laughing themselves, clueing in to what I am doing. One, started doing the same thing. He was laughing too. There was a beautiful symphony of beeps, honks, ah-oogahs and assorted cacophony of noise.

Funny thing, not one of us got through the traffic tie up any faster. Next time, I am going to try using my 4-way flashers. That’ll definitely get people moving along.

Yup, I made quite the statement alright.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-431050/I-fined-honking-man-stepped-car.html