Making It Up As I Go Along #388

A bit of a ramble this week.

Twelve Days Off
Twelve days off. Since my move to Ottawa I haven’t taken twelve days off and not flown somewhere.

The original plan was four days of nothing followed by eight of writing and research. Then I was given crumby work news, just prior to my time away, and it changed to a time of decompression and settling down.

Writing happened... but not as much. Two or three days of the twelve went towards the project.

Twelve days can be a lifetime. Two and a half days under the weather... three work related e-mails... two work related phone calls... one trip to (you guessed it) work... and, for anyone who knows my work, zero work related official decisions. And management wonders why staff complains.

Sleep came and went. Thursday night I went to bed with a headache... lights off at about twenty to one. Wake for the first time around 9:00. Sleep more off and on until about twenty after twelve. Almost twelve hours in the bed means I’m not up to par. For the next few days after that, sleep amounts to a little less than half of that day. Tonight is likely to be an adventure with a 4:30 wake up call coming up.

Twelve days came with a Hitchcock moment. On day eleven, after the first victory of the indoor ball season, I stand in the parking lot talking with Trevor... about a hundred Canada Geese lift off a block away and drift atop us, honking from a hundred feet up. A flight slow... almost a hover with the wind against their beaks.

Our talking stopped and we stood looking up at the mass of birds. I thought of a dive into the car, with geese wings slapping against the windshield as geese beaks crack the glass in waves. It didn’t happen.

Three big purchases in twelve days. A plane ticket home for Christmas... the one bit of good that comes from the toss from CPSIC... Ho Ho Ho! A pair of miniature goalie masks online from the Hockey Hall of Fame... cause I’m a goalie mask geek. And a down jacket for the winter from Eddie Bauer... all set for the inevitable brrrr.

Lots of baseball over the twelve days. Playoff baseball can only be matched by playoff hockey in my books. I just wish it would be decreed that only Vin Scully, Jon Miller (without sidekick Joe Morgan... twit) or Dan Shulman will call all baseball games. TBS is nasty in their coverage. Scully and Shulman make me wish I had satellite radio. It would almost be worth it to turn off the TV and only listen to a ball game on the radio if it meant hearing Scully or Shulman call it.

Speaking previously of my goalie mask obsession... I took a TSN online poll where they give a choice of one goalie per NHL team and you are to pick the best mask in the NHL accordingly. I’ve decided that the great majority of today’s goalie masks are too busy in their design. It is so cram packed full of details that, on TV, the mask looks like a great big scribbled blob. My pick for winner... Roberto Luongo. Very plain but something really good about it... it draws me in.



What I know is that twelve days off could be extended twelve more. I love being on my own schedule and staying away from the politics and drama that is the work place.


MONDAY...
— Home day. Some baseball... a walk... pizza delivered.

TUESDAY...
— Get some groceries... review some old writing to prepare to work on it... watch baseball and hockey. Relaxing day.

WEDNESDAY...
— Some writing research. Trying to get a good background to go with a story I’m getting into.
— Movie on TV and supper out with Riggs.
— Christmas is booked. My getting shifted out of my section at work means Christmas is a go. Porter Airlines doing it this time... should be interesting.

THURSDAY...
— Tired day. That’s what happens when it’s dark and rainy all day. Watch a movie and some hockey and do some napping.

FRIDAY...
— Got out of bed shortly after noon. I was in bed for about twelve hours and slept about nine of that. Not feeling good today.
— Cancel supper plans tonight and Port Perry party night tomorrow is in jeopardy. Headaches, tired, cough, hot/cold... all on the docket for today.

SATURDAY...
— Best hockey game in years on TV... Montreal beat the Rangers in overtime and it was quite exciting.
— Stays home rather than go to Nick’s birthday party in Port Perry. Still under the weather. Feel a bit better by the night but still not totally right.

SUNDAY...
— Snoozy day, trying to get some strength. Ball in the evening. We win our first game out of three in the fall league and I don’t play like a total duffus. A shwarma for supper and TV night.

Making It Up As I Go Along #387

Doctors and Vices
We all have vices. Some smoke... actually, a lot still smoke. They may push it harder and harder to remove smoking from society but it seems every second car on the road has a smoker in it. The automobile has become one of the few acceptable smoking venues now. And cigarette butts have become the only acceptable litter to be discarded at will, no matter the location.

Back on track... vices... we have cigarettes. There are also drugs. Recreational drugs of all types, alcohol, prescription drugs. The fact is, a lot of people want to change the way they feel as they walk through the world. For them, the drug changes reality... at least for a little while.

Food is a vice. A lot of people eat many times the number of daily calories than is needed. Chocolate is a vice for millions.

Pornography, fast cars, shopping... all vices.

I have several vices. I’d assume I do anyway. People go through life with vices that they don’t even realize is a vice.

The vice I will speak of today is one I’ve carried for many years now... one that has increased it’s grip on me over the last six months or so... I’ve been drawn in by a doctor... enslaved and in need of his fix.

The vice I speak of... Dr. Pepper.

This is the greatest soft drink of all time! In the battle of Coke vs. Pepsi, I was always on the Coke side of the equation. But the Doctor has them both beat.

For a while I was off soft drinks for the most part. None would find their way into my home refrigerator unless a party was to occur that night. Sure I’d get the occasional Coke when out to supper, but in the house... only milk and juice!

Well Dr. Pepper has weaseled it’s way in. I don’t go nuts on it. I allow myself no more than one a day. But it’s there, tempting me... ready to make my day a little better.

In childhood, Dr. Pepper was not an option. Newfoundland had no Dr. Pepper in the stores. It must have had something to do with the island ecology. As a kid, I wanted Dr. Pepper and a turtle. Both were kept out of the province. Turtles for the diseases they could bring if released into the wild... Dr. Pepper... possibly the same. Perhaps they feared if a can of the stuff was left at a vacated camp site, bears would become hooked.

So my only Dr. Pepper fixes would come on summer vacations off the island. The drink I’d see on American advertising... there within my grasp on the shelf. In the beginning it was exotic. Like a soft drink movie star. I couldn’t believe it was right there in front of me.

We’d return to the campsite after our grocery run and the first thing I’d ask for is the Dr. Pepper. And what a wondrous drink it was. A taste like no other! I mean really, Coke and Pepsi... they have a bit of a difference but it’s subtle. Dr. Pepper is a drink onto itself. Not a cola, not root beer, not cream soda... a marvelous concoction that has to be tasted to be believed.

Over the years, this is how I had Dr. Pepper. On road trips to far off worlds. Worlds like... Toronto and Victoria. Worlds where the exotic is readily available.

In the mid 1980s, two incredible things came together... Dr. Pepper... and the three litre bottle. I saw it on a Toronto trip and was blown away. The bottle sat in the fridge... a seemingly never ending keg of goodness. After each outing, we’d return to our room and I’d run for a glass and pour myself a great cold piece of heaven. The bottle never seemed to empty... it was as if a dream.

Back home, in the early 90s, Oran Coffin and I struck gold. Not many knew of it, but there was a Dr. Pepper supplier within the city of St. John’s. Just one store... a convenience store that was located on the way from our neighbourhood to the ball hockey arena.

Car pooling to and from games, Oran and I would make a pit stop after a hard fought... loss (I’d like to say victory but, more often than not, we lost) and we’d venture into the store all sweaty and dehydrated. And there would be the cooler... off in the back... stocked with Dr. Pepper. It’s just as exotic cousin, Mello Yello, sat on the racks next to it. This is another drink available nowhere else in town and seen on all the TV ads. But my heart was spoken for... and the Doctor is what gave me my fix.

Today, Dr. Pepper has breached all worlds. Still not quite as easy to find as a Coke or a Pepsi... but now there no longer needs to be expeditions made half way across the world. The bears must have survived an accidental dose... as Newfoundland now has Dr. Pepper in most every grocery store (along with turtles at the pet stores).

And as I’ve endured a hard week. Where my character has been tested and all that’s right has been shaken... I’ve been able to lean on an old friend. A friend who knows how to put a smile on my face. One that sits upon it’s coaster within arm’s reach as I type these final words.

Sometimes vices are a very good thing.


SUNDAY...
— Slow day at work. Some moments of business but, overall, a quiet time.

MONDAY...
— Much like yesterday at work.

TUESDAY...
— Sucky day at work because my days in CPSIC, are now numbered. Starting shift being told you’re going to be moved out of the section soon isn’t a great way to go. I’ll leave it at... I did nothing wrong... they’re happy with my work... and leave it to the RCMP to be the only organization on earth where the end result of winning a promotion is sliding backwards in the grand scheme of things. I’ll ask to go back to AFIS... it all likely means that, within a month, I’ll be back to working five days a week with my weekends off. And blog writing will return to straight Sundays. We’ll see... we’ll see. But suddenly I have extra motivation to look at job possibilities in BC.

WEDNESDAY...
— Lots of food. RCMP softball party has pizza... work has Chinese food ordered in... cake and pie and other snacks. Work is something not really easy to be up for right now, after the way things have gone the last few days.

THURSDAY...
— Talk to a few people in the know about work promotions. It appears that this is within the rules and I understand it more but am a bit more disenchanted with the RCMP. One flawed interview process means more when it comes to work placement than a year of experience on the job. I’m being removed from CPSIC even though my supervisors are happy with my year of service... someone ranked higher in an interview than me.
— Wings and bowling with Jamie, Sarah, Phil, and Tom tonight. A nice time out.

FRIDAY...
— A few e-mails, one to the officer in charge of my section at work. The response is predictable and less than inspiring.
— Movies and baseball on TV help me unwind.

SATURDAY...
— Why is it that they say goalies can’t have smaller equipment in hockey, or they may be killed by shots... yet players are blocking shots more than ever without getting hurt. It doesn’t add up. When it comes to logic and common sense, the NHL is not a number one institution to look to for examples.

Making It Up As I Go Along #386

Late with the writing. Mom and dad were here until Saturday evening... leaving enough time for supper and a little unwinding before bed... then work and work some more.


Space Tourism
I’m not ready for space tourists. I’m really not. I know that now as clearly as I know anything.

So I’ve seen a total of one space tourist. Guy Laliberte spent tens of millions of dollars in order to wear a rubber nose and make Ron James faces while floating in front of a crew of astronauts. He claims it was worth the money to bring awareness to some cause or another. The fact that I couldn’t name you that cause without having to google it shows that perhaps it was not money well spent.

Every time a camera came out, so did that damn nose. I can see it now. Laliberte bobbing there in the corner while the crew does actual work. One astronaut takes out a camera to take some pictures of our wondrous planet below... Laliberte sees the camera and, like a trained seal, he digs into his space pocket to haul out his space nose at warp speed. His tongue starts protruding and his eyes squint crazy as he drifts towards the camera-naut... “um Guy, I’m going to take a picture of Africa... if it’s okay with you.” “Oh sure, sure” he answers. The sparkle dims in his eye and he floats back to his corner.

I think of the astronauts. A life’s dream to go into space. To be one of those rare people who have made it through the training and preparation. The sacrifice over all those years... and their first trip into the heavens is overshadowed by some billionaire clown.

Please God... if more billionaires are to be brought into orbit... may they be left up there. Oh how I’d adore the Canadarm if it plucked Laliberte up and slowly tossed him out into deep space... that little red nose become ever so small as he drifts into eternity.

I fear other billionaires shall follow Laliberte’s lead.

Rosie O’Donnell, a billionaire she is not, but such a nut is sure to find the sponsorship. Singing in space... well, perhaps the lack of gravity will make her voice more musical. Perhaps the talentless O’Donnell will find her calling in the vacuum of space... where she can sing to the top of her lungs... and we’ll hear not a peep.

Tom Cruise will go... in order to get closer to his god. Looking out from the space station into the depths of space, he’ll be bouncing off the walls... floor... and ceiling... weightlessly proclaiming “I’m moving towards the eighth dynamic... I can see it!... see it? Over there! It’s coming!” An astronaut will peek out the window and say “Mr. Cruise... that’s the moon.” Tom will proceed to wet himself and the world will be watching as urine beads fan out through the space station.

No space tourist mission could be complete without Oprah. Her hair being a gravityless puff of curls. Passing astronauts becoming entangled in her locks... taking orbit around her head. And each time a new astronaut is caught in the gravity that is her head, Oprah will shout in glee... “I’m giving you a four-year supply of Carmex lip balm!”

Yes, I fear space tourism. The red nose of Guy Laliberte is only the weightless tip of the iceberg.


SATURDAY...
— Work is pretty slow and it’s followed by Imax movies. One on Mecca and the other on Safari in South Africa. Both really good.
— Two days and two opposite emotions in sport. First Markov gone four months after Montreal’s first game... makes me sad. Second, JP Ricciardi is fired as GM of the Blue Jays... when I read that I break into smile! Moron.

SUNDAY...
— Quiet day at work due to many systems being down for six hours.
— Softball after work. My first game in the indoor ball for the year and first game back from the thumb problem. Team loses and I have lost the hitting rhythm... but it’s still fun.

MONDAY...
— A little TV, nap, and TV... off to work for night...
— Pizza with Phil and work is pretty quiet. The gym breaks it up some.

TUESDAY...
— Not much sleep. About three hours. A little TV before going to the train station to get mom and dad. Get some groceries... mom makes a good soup... and dad and I watch the Twins vs Tigers baseball game. Twelve great innings of baseball.

WEDNESDAY...
— Walk at Mer Bleue... followed by lunch and then a trip downtown. Some shopping at Rideau Centre... supper at Fish Market Restaurant... and Imax movies to end the night.

THURSDAY...
— Drive around day. To Arnprior, Almonte, and Carlton Place. Good times. A fun time trying out the GPS on the cell phone... which brought us to a café in Arnprior that we’d never have known of otherwise.
— Lots of traffic going home. Get shwarma’s for supper and lay pretty low in the evening.

FRIDAY...
— A bit of shopping with mom and then it’s home for turkey with the parents. Fine meal and relaxing night.

Making It Up As I Go Along #385

Flinstones, Meet the Flinstones
Words and phrases change over the years. There are communities that have had to deal with the differences of years. The Newfoundland community of Gay Side. They became so sensitive to the change in the meaning of the word “gay” that they decided to change the name of their community. Baytona has taken it’s place. From a community that was happy and light... to Baytona. Look what the modernization of homosexuality has done.

Some communities grin and bare it. Dildo... and Dildo Run. Two locals, again in Newfoundland, that must deal with the jabs and snickers that come with the modern day meaning of the word. A few years ago, there was a controversy in Newfoundland because a kid and his father went to Toronto to watch a Maple Leaf game. The game was televised and the kid, wanting to get on TV, made a sign stating how “Dildo loves the Maple Leafs”. An usher took the sign away from the child. Community name or no... that word isn’t about to be put on television during a hockey game. Most people in Newfoundland seemed to take the kid’s side. But realistically, I’m in no way surprised that the sign would be lost and I kept thinking that the father must have been naive to think they would be able to hold up a sign with the word Dildo on it and not have problems.

Going back to “gay”. If the Flinstones came on the air today, the theme song would open you up to imagining a completely different style of cartoon. After all, the Flinstones “Will have a gay old time...” Betty and Wilma in one house... Fred and Barney in the other... or perhaps a night of bowling, or a meeting of the Royal Order of Water Buffalo, lead by the Grand Poobah... well... in today’s land of “gay old times” the activities of such a club could be vastly different. And bowling could simply be a code word.

Names can bring new meanings as well. Adolf must have been a fairly popular German name prior to World War II. Not so popular anymore.

I’ve seen several Michael Jackson’s in the world. And I’ve often thought “why wouldn’t that guy go with his middle name?” Or “I’d be calling myself Mike Jackson instead.” This is especially true after the allocations late in Jackson’s life came out.

Even I have come under the name problem. Chris Brown. There have always been many of us. But none of us have been terribly famous. The most trouble I’d have was with a goalie who was a year or two older than me back home. He’d go off to hockey tournaments and people would ask me how it went.

Since I joined the RCMP, I’ve gotten many an e-mail meant for a police officer in BC (who’s e-mail is Christopher instead of my Chris). I’ve forwarded them along and we’ve joked with each other over the mix ups.

But now I’m famous. Those years of me saying the other Michael Jackson’s should go by Mike or their middle name have come back to haunt me. For I beat up Rihanna.

I’ve had teenage girls call me to ask why I hit her before they broke into Chris Brown song. I’ve had officers from across the country also make comment. In fact, it got so bad that, when asked for my name, I would only volunteer Chris. When they’d push me for the second name, it would happen. A pause... followed by “Chris Brown? Why’d you do that to Rihanna?” I could be talking to an officer who’s in a rush to get information to put away a robber. But they’d need to take that extra second to ask me about Rihanna.

So perhaps I should become Christopher full time now. Or switch to my middle name... Lloyd Brown the second. One thing I can assure everyone... I shan’t be called Baytona Brown anytime soon.


FRIDAY...
— Work. Get up okay as I’m still sort of on NF time. Distracting afternoon as we wait for e-mails informing us of the FIT 3 promotion. Good news comes to me. It means my acting position will become permanent. So after that, it’s a more easy going time.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet day at work. Phil buys me a sub for my promotion and we pretty much just hold down the fort for most of the day.
— Out for drinks and food in the night at Grace O’Malley’s. Martin, Kiyomi, Jason, Phil, Sarah, Angela, and Bana all go. It’s fun.

SUNDAY...
— Quiet night at work with Chinese food.

MONDAY...
— Hit the gym at work tonight. And before work, go to the mall to replace my bluetooth charger. While there I check out some DVD’s at HMV and buy a couple of cheap ones. The Princess Bride is much less a chick movie than the title would say... and Blair Witch Project is a classic.

TUESDAY...
— Quiet day. Sleep until about 11:30 and laze about on a rainy day after that. First day off work is often a jetlag day.

WEDNESDAY...
— Supper at Melissa’s. Burgers and salad with Kutlik and Dusty there as well.
— Off to the movies with Melissa. The Informant is good... but maybe not quite as good as I expected going in. Still worth seeing.

THURSDAY...
— Hockey’s back. Montreal beats Toronto in overtime in a fairly entertaining game. Vancouver and Calgary, I don’t watch much of but looks fairly good in the third.
— Laundry day.