Alien Abduction
December 22nd, Aliens interfered with my trip home.
The first aspect of this event is not a surprising thing. Flight delays. Yes, even when the skies are blue and the day is bright and clear, planes delay in their departures. Thank you hub system. Where Toronto is the beating heart of Canada’s air travel.
My plane, due to leave Ottawa and head east... having nothing to do with Toronto to the south... is delayed due to a slow down where it should not be. For some reason, the plane starts in Toronto, working it’s way to Ottawa before heading on to Halifax and then St. John’s. And for some reason, it’s an hour late leaving Toronto.
I buy a book and hang about the airport. And in about an hour, we’re onboard the plane and heading east.
Flying Porter instead of Air Canada... I note the differences. Firstly, the staff don’t act as though you’re a burden. At Porter, they smile and offer to help you out. They ask you to watch your head as you board. They ask if you’d like free food and drink. They pardon themselves if they happen to bump you as they walk by.
At Air Canada, you’re told to behave... give exact change if you want to buy an overpriced sandwich... and you’re ignored while you hold your elbow in agony after the drink cart bashed it in the walk by. Then Air Canada flicks on the TV sets and expect you to turn zombie.
Porter has no video system. No TVs in the seat back in front of you. And no big screens hanging from the ceiling. Funny how this reduction in technology makes the trip somehow more enjoying. In our age, when TV is there to babysit our children, Air Canada took the practice and used it to babysit customers. Give them TV and gain a moment’s peace. Flight attendants can sit back and go about their day with all us “children” plugged in and drooling at the flickering images.
But with Porter’s lack of video, life comes back to travel. People acknowledge each other. Books are read in quiet and smiling faces enjoy each other’s company.
In Halifax, most get off and few get back on the plane. We taxi away from the gate with several empty rows of seats. I shift over and gain plenty of room to stretch out. Nobody in front of me... nobody to the side of me... and nobody behind. No kicking or seat back dropping. I’m left in peace.
I first thought this a bit odd. Why a flight goes to Newfoundland at Christmas without full capacity met. I now look back at this and figure it to be alien abduction. Those empty seats weren’t left by a lack of desire to head east. They were left empty while the missing passengers are zipped off to far away galaxies, being prodded and poked at by green men with great big insect eyes.
I’d have not thought anything of this except for the fact that our St. John’s landing came at an odd time. An hour delay due to Toronto... results in a three hour delay arriving in St. John’s. Where the other two hours went, I did not know. Until I remembered my A&E marathon sessions of aliens, Big Foot, and the Lock Ness Monster.
Aliens may be superior to us. They may be able to race across the light years and be home in time for dinner. But they don’t know how to properly change the clocks. It’s likely due to inexperienced abductors. “Okay, we’re ready to put Mr. Johnson back now... let’s roll the clocks back... what time did we take him?” “Oh... oh yeah... you know, I forget to check my watch when we pulled him from that jeep in Kansas... umm... well Toroc had just commented on how evening abductions are his favourite... and evening was just setting in then... so... let’s see... it was probably about 4:00.”
This is the scenario that happened with us. An alien forgot to check a watch and they guessed on when our plane was scooped up for probing and experimentation. We’d have been none the wiser had it not been for the two unexplained hours that went by.
And thanks to those aliens, I’ve now probably been impregnated by an intergalactic donor. The birth will be seen as a Christmas miracle... even though I’ll be quite uncomfortable with the whole event.
But at least I’ve been returned to Earth. Those poor passengers from the empty seats I happily took over. They must have been whisked back to the aliens home planet for more extensive testing and probing. I can only hope that the superior race will supply the human holding cells with video screens. Otherwise, that trip to planet Zoran will feel like it takes for ever. And the alien attendants will get annoyed at the whining humans who don’t have exact change for their space sandwich.
MONDAY...
— Take it easy around the house and do some packing for tomorrow’s flight. It looks like the biggest worry will be the wind. Will there be 100 km winds when my plane tries to land?
TUESDAY...
— Fly day. A little delay leaving Ottawa but the flights were fine and, from Halifax to St. John’s, I have a row to myself with nobody in the rows in front or back of me either. Nice. I like Porter. Hope the empty seats from Halifax to St. John’s won’t be a sign that the airline will have troubles. Much nicer than the Air Canada crew... ground crew excepted... Mr. Delahunty!
— For the first time I read a book cover to cover in one day. Bought a copy of Mitch Albom’s “Tuesdays With Morrie” and it was fantastic.
WEDNESDAY...
— Nice day shopping downtown with mom and dad. Do some split ups with me and dad for a while and me and mom for a while... lunch down there and the whole bit. Then off to Cousin Sandra’s for supper with Uncle Wince and family as well. 10 or so of us all total... and stuffed full of good food.
THURSDAY...
— Christmas Eve. We do lunch at Wince’s... fish is good.
— A bit of TV in the evening. It’s a Wonderful Life... the movie.
FRIDAY...
— Merry Christmas. Stuffed full of food most of the evening. All the family comes to the folk’s house tonight. It’s a nice day too with just mom, dad and me opening gifts and hanging out.
SATURDAY...
— Morning funeral... afternoon hanging out at Jim and Kristann’s... evening with mom and dad at the mall watching Avatar in 3D. Impressive movie. Quite good.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Making It Up As I Go Along #395
Not sure if I’ll be writing next Sunday or not. It all depends on if my laptop makes it to Newfoundland on Tuesday and on how busy the schedule will be while on the east coast. So perhaps there’ll be something written next Sunday, but if not, expect it to be there New Years Eve. With that...
Twelves Christmas Wishes
Twelve things I’d wish for this Christmas. In no particular order...
1... Stability. I’ve become even more of a homebody now because that’s where life is most stable. I am most solid within my own space with my stuff around me. I’ve worked in the same section for six years and, from the outside, that looks stable. But on the inside, it’s far from it. Rare has been the time in those six years when you can go to work and know exactly what’s happening. Case in point... after two weeks back in my old department, I’m told I’m getting moved to a new team in January. So within two months, I’ll have worked for one section... but two departments, with a partnership and two teams. The instability is tiring.
2... One more solid season of fastpitch ball. After an eight year departure from it, last summer I returned to the game I grew up with. It was a challenge to take on after a year of slow pitch. And it came with mixed results. A batting average that was solid but a lack of comfort in the field made me, for the first time since I was about ten years old, feel like a liability on defense. And when the game started to come back and I started to feel like I was entering a grove... I tear and fracture my thumb. In the end I played less than half a season and didn’t show myself that I can still play good ball. I hope I can play next season and feel satisfied with it once the season is over.
3... Continued family health. My immediate family has been lucky. Me, my parents, sister, brother in law and nieces have lived healthy lives. Recent problems with some extended family has stood as a reminder that life can’t be taken for granted. I wish for those family members to overcome and for such wishes to be unnecessary a year from now.
4... A dog. I’ve gone far to long without and don’t have an ideal life to include one in... long periods away for work would leave a dog fending for itself longer than it should... but I’m becoming like a little kid in a sappy Christmas movie... Little Johnny would like a dog.
5... A turtle. I can’t have both a dog and a turtle... but I wish for both. I’ve wanted a turtle since I was about eight years old... And I remember the disappointment when my parents said they tried but found them to be prohibited in Newfoundland. The prohibition is over and the lifestyle probably better suits it. Perhaps 2010 will be the year of the turtle.
6... Olympic glory. Not really for the obvious reasons though. I’m just so tired of the year long campaign of children on TV commercials saying how they “believe”. And I know the best way for the Olympic hype to quickly disappear is for Canada to do well. A bad winter games means another year of sports talk shows going on and on about it. Please, for the love of God, no more.
7... Hair. I’m allowed to be somewhat superficial aren’t I? I remember when I’d get two or three haircuts for a year and my father and girlfriend of the time would both hound me to go get it cleaned up. I want those times back again. A return of hockey hair, bed head, hat head, hair gel, and hair brushes. To be able to buy shampoo and not think about the cashier looking at me, and then the bottle, and then me again... all the while wondering “he can’t be getting this for himself.”
8... The Hike. Port aux Basques to St. John’s... all on the old rail bed. And the plans and ideas that come with it.
9... A hole in one. I’ve said it before and I’ll stick to it. If ever I get a hole in one in golf, it’ll be the last golf shot I ever make. It could be the first hole of the day and if I sink that ball in one stroke, I’m done. There’s no better way to end one’s golf playing days.
10... To be left so in awe of something, that I’m totally speechless. I suspect I’d be that way if I stood atop Mt. Everest... or if I viewed the Earth from the surface of the moon. I wish there is some scenario that is more realistic in making this happen.
11... To no longer hear people laugh with pride in making me blush. I’ll blush if I get out of bed too quickly people. It’s not that big a feat to cause my face to turn pinkish. It’s the curse of the fair skinned. Now if you make me get out on the dance floor and bust a groove, then take pride in it. Making me turn red should bring no person any joy. It may very well have happened without you.
12... A basement. Hard to believe the things we miss. But I do miss having a basement. Being able to block a little window in order to sit in a black room... being able to sit in the cool without need of air conditioning. Being able to store things without worry of cluttering up the rest of the house. My kingdom for a basement.
Merry Christmas.
MONDAY...
— Two hour sleep night going into first day shift in weeks. Oh dear.
— Get through it okay and then head to a clinic for swine flu shot. A pain in the butt as I am sitting and waiting for about an hour and a half before getting it done.
TUESDAY...
— Slept better and work goes ok. Kind of hard adjusting to sitting there all day compared to running around in CPSIC.
WEDNESDAY...
— Halladay is traded. My favourite Blue Jay makes me wonder if I’ll become a Phillies fan. I’ve always admired how they play and like many of their players. Have we seen the beginning of the Blue Jay’s transformation into the Expos? And if Montreal moved to Washington, where will Toronto go in ten years? Portland? Vegas?
THURSDAY...
— Well, looks like I probably didn’t forget the Columbia House decline last month after all. No Star Trek in the mail. No charge on my credit card. A stocking stuffer idea has re-emerged.
— Too cold today... too cold. Lunch across with Shannon and Annick is fun. Haven’t talked much with either of them in a while.
— Work in CNI today. Kind of fun for a change.
FRIDAY...
— Team change time at work. Cause anything more than 2 weeks in the one situation is a luxury they just can’t afford. And the two months of messing with Brown, goes on.
— I skip the office Christmas party. Heading back to the office a few hours after work is hardly my idea of a good time.... and the afternoon team change announcement solidifies the decision I made a week ago when it came to not buying tickets for the thing.
SATURDAY...
— Laundry day.
Twelves Christmas Wishes
Twelve things I’d wish for this Christmas. In no particular order...
1... Stability. I’ve become even more of a homebody now because that’s where life is most stable. I am most solid within my own space with my stuff around me. I’ve worked in the same section for six years and, from the outside, that looks stable. But on the inside, it’s far from it. Rare has been the time in those six years when you can go to work and know exactly what’s happening. Case in point... after two weeks back in my old department, I’m told I’m getting moved to a new team in January. So within two months, I’ll have worked for one section... but two departments, with a partnership and two teams. The instability is tiring.
2... One more solid season of fastpitch ball. After an eight year departure from it, last summer I returned to the game I grew up with. It was a challenge to take on after a year of slow pitch. And it came with mixed results. A batting average that was solid but a lack of comfort in the field made me, for the first time since I was about ten years old, feel like a liability on defense. And when the game started to come back and I started to feel like I was entering a grove... I tear and fracture my thumb. In the end I played less than half a season and didn’t show myself that I can still play good ball. I hope I can play next season and feel satisfied with it once the season is over.
3... Continued family health. My immediate family has been lucky. Me, my parents, sister, brother in law and nieces have lived healthy lives. Recent problems with some extended family has stood as a reminder that life can’t be taken for granted. I wish for those family members to overcome and for such wishes to be unnecessary a year from now.
4... A dog. I’ve gone far to long without and don’t have an ideal life to include one in... long periods away for work would leave a dog fending for itself longer than it should... but I’m becoming like a little kid in a sappy Christmas movie... Little Johnny would like a dog.
5... A turtle. I can’t have both a dog and a turtle... but I wish for both. I’ve wanted a turtle since I was about eight years old... And I remember the disappointment when my parents said they tried but found them to be prohibited in Newfoundland. The prohibition is over and the lifestyle probably better suits it. Perhaps 2010 will be the year of the turtle.
6... Olympic glory. Not really for the obvious reasons though. I’m just so tired of the year long campaign of children on TV commercials saying how they “believe”. And I know the best way for the Olympic hype to quickly disappear is for Canada to do well. A bad winter games means another year of sports talk shows going on and on about it. Please, for the love of God, no more.
7... Hair. I’m allowed to be somewhat superficial aren’t I? I remember when I’d get two or three haircuts for a year and my father and girlfriend of the time would both hound me to go get it cleaned up. I want those times back again. A return of hockey hair, bed head, hat head, hair gel, and hair brushes. To be able to buy shampoo and not think about the cashier looking at me, and then the bottle, and then me again... all the while wondering “he can’t be getting this for himself.”
8... The Hike. Port aux Basques to St. John’s... all on the old rail bed. And the plans and ideas that come with it.
9... A hole in one. I’ve said it before and I’ll stick to it. If ever I get a hole in one in golf, it’ll be the last golf shot I ever make. It could be the first hole of the day and if I sink that ball in one stroke, I’m done. There’s no better way to end one’s golf playing days.
10... To be left so in awe of something, that I’m totally speechless. I suspect I’d be that way if I stood atop Mt. Everest... or if I viewed the Earth from the surface of the moon. I wish there is some scenario that is more realistic in making this happen.
11... To no longer hear people laugh with pride in making me blush. I’ll blush if I get out of bed too quickly people. It’s not that big a feat to cause my face to turn pinkish. It’s the curse of the fair skinned. Now if you make me get out on the dance floor and bust a groove, then take pride in it. Making me turn red should bring no person any joy. It may very well have happened without you.
12... A basement. Hard to believe the things we miss. But I do miss having a basement. Being able to block a little window in order to sit in a black room... being able to sit in the cool without need of air conditioning. Being able to store things without worry of cluttering up the rest of the house. My kingdom for a basement.
Merry Christmas.
MONDAY...
— Two hour sleep night going into first day shift in weeks. Oh dear.
— Get through it okay and then head to a clinic for swine flu shot. A pain in the butt as I am sitting and waiting for about an hour and a half before getting it done.
TUESDAY...
— Slept better and work goes ok. Kind of hard adjusting to sitting there all day compared to running around in CPSIC.
WEDNESDAY...
— Halladay is traded. My favourite Blue Jay makes me wonder if I’ll become a Phillies fan. I’ve always admired how they play and like many of their players. Have we seen the beginning of the Blue Jay’s transformation into the Expos? And if Montreal moved to Washington, where will Toronto go in ten years? Portland? Vegas?
THURSDAY...
— Well, looks like I probably didn’t forget the Columbia House decline last month after all. No Star Trek in the mail. No charge on my credit card. A stocking stuffer idea has re-emerged.
— Too cold today... too cold. Lunch across with Shannon and Annick is fun. Haven’t talked much with either of them in a while.
— Work in CNI today. Kind of fun for a change.
FRIDAY...
— Team change time at work. Cause anything more than 2 weeks in the one situation is a luxury they just can’t afford. And the two months of messing with Brown, goes on.
— I skip the office Christmas party. Heading back to the office a few hours after work is hardly my idea of a good time.... and the afternoon team change announcement solidifies the decision I made a week ago when it came to not buying tickets for the thing.
SATURDAY...
— Laundry day.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Making It Up As I Go Along #394
Snow Migration
The birds and insects of the world do it.
They migrate as the year goes on.
Picking up and venturing thousands of kilometres north.
To stay for a while before picking up once again and heading back from where they came.
Whales as well.
The oceans being a great plain.
Where great beasts march half the globe as herds of bison.
Imagine the scene if only the sea was less secretive with that which goes on within.
White bears migrate from the land to the sea.
Standing around and waiting for oceans to freeze.
Then venturing out when all others bundle up.
Our burden becomes Polar Bear joy.
Ice mountains migrate each Spring.
Snapping off of ice continents and drifting through ice waters.
They appear along southern shores as a reminder of cold.
When the land begins to soften and warm.
And then there’s snow.
Spending the summers in the north.
Happy in it’s element and hostile to intruders.
Freezing and starving intruders.
Burying them for millennia.
Then beginning it’s southward trek.
By late September, you hear of it.
Snows appearing along the northern shores.
Often coming overnight, and then retreating during the day.
And as time goes on, the snow becomes less tentative.
Staying longer in the daylight hours.
Venturing further south.
News casts broadcast the migration pattern as it comes ever closer to human populations.
And then it arrives.
Snow
That wasn’t there one day.
Infests the next.
We run for cover.
When venturing outdoors,
We live in a constant muscular tension.
Trying to keep out the infestation.
Roadways become impassible.
Active Meadows become ghostly deserts.
Ponds become land.
And flats become mountains.
Months will pass and the return migration north will follow.
Where the snows will be drawn back north.
Leaving the southern lands.
And leaving the permanent inhabitants to return outside, relaxed and happy.
MONDAY...
— Dentist in the morning and then back to AFIS work in the evening. Went okay tonight. Easy going and quiet.
— Hang with Geoff for a bit after work as he’s in for a day or two of business. Then some TV and bed.
TUESDAY...
— Greek food for Kiyomi, Devin, Martin and me... yum.
WEDNESDAY...
— Storm day. Still have to go to work after pushing a neighbour’s car into their parking space.
THURSDAY...
— AFIS Christmas luncheon. Go with Sarah and Kiyomi and sit with them and Derek. A fun time.
— It’s half day off for Christmas... I take some leave to make it a full day instead... so today’s work is just the luncheon.
— Rolling Stone’s top 100 albums and songs of the decade are out. Wilco has the number 3 (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot) and 97 (Sky Blue Sky) albums. And Jesus etc. is the 67th top song. Good stuff.
FRIDAY...
— Laundry and groceries during the day, and for the night, drinks with a bunch from work. I originally thought it was simply for a group of us to have some fun... but it ends up it was all organized by Jamie to wish me a farewell from CPSIC and hello to AFIS. Melissa, Nick, Dusty, Sue, Phil, Jamie, Annick, Sarah Roy and Sarah Wright, Julia, Roz, Sheila, Jonathan, Terry and Larry are all there. A card from Terry makes it extra fun.
SATURDAY...
— UFC night. Phil, Osana and I check it out. PJ Penn was amazingly good tonight.
The birds and insects of the world do it.
They migrate as the year goes on.
Picking up and venturing thousands of kilometres north.
To stay for a while before picking up once again and heading back from where they came.
Whales as well.
The oceans being a great plain.
Where great beasts march half the globe as herds of bison.
Imagine the scene if only the sea was less secretive with that which goes on within.
White bears migrate from the land to the sea.
Standing around and waiting for oceans to freeze.
Then venturing out when all others bundle up.
Our burden becomes Polar Bear joy.
Ice mountains migrate each Spring.
Snapping off of ice continents and drifting through ice waters.
They appear along southern shores as a reminder of cold.
When the land begins to soften and warm.
And then there’s snow.
Spending the summers in the north.
Happy in it’s element and hostile to intruders.
Freezing and starving intruders.
Burying them for millennia.
Then beginning it’s southward trek.
By late September, you hear of it.
Snows appearing along the northern shores.
Often coming overnight, and then retreating during the day.
And as time goes on, the snow becomes less tentative.
Staying longer in the daylight hours.
Venturing further south.
News casts broadcast the migration pattern as it comes ever closer to human populations.
And then it arrives.
Snow
That wasn’t there one day.
Infests the next.
We run for cover.
When venturing outdoors,
We live in a constant muscular tension.
Trying to keep out the infestation.
Roadways become impassible.
Active Meadows become ghostly deserts.
Ponds become land.
And flats become mountains.
Months will pass and the return migration north will follow.
Where the snows will be drawn back north.
Leaving the southern lands.
And leaving the permanent inhabitants to return outside, relaxed and happy.
MONDAY...
— Dentist in the morning and then back to AFIS work in the evening. Went okay tonight. Easy going and quiet.
— Hang with Geoff for a bit after work as he’s in for a day or two of business. Then some TV and bed.
TUESDAY...
— Greek food for Kiyomi, Devin, Martin and me... yum.
WEDNESDAY...
— Storm day. Still have to go to work after pushing a neighbour’s car into their parking space.
THURSDAY...
— AFIS Christmas luncheon. Go with Sarah and Kiyomi and sit with them and Derek. A fun time.
— It’s half day off for Christmas... I take some leave to make it a full day instead... so today’s work is just the luncheon.
— Rolling Stone’s top 100 albums and songs of the decade are out. Wilco has the number 3 (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot) and 97 (Sky Blue Sky) albums. And Jesus etc. is the 67th top song. Good stuff.
FRIDAY...
— Laundry and groceries during the day, and for the night, drinks with a bunch from work. I originally thought it was simply for a group of us to have some fun... but it ends up it was all organized by Jamie to wish me a farewell from CPSIC and hello to AFIS. Melissa, Nick, Dusty, Sue, Phil, Jamie, Annick, Sarah Roy and Sarah Wright, Julia, Roz, Sheila, Jonathan, Terry and Larry are all there. A card from Terry makes it extra fun.
SATURDAY...
— UFC night. Phil, Osana and I check it out. PJ Penn was amazingly good tonight.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Making It Up As I Go Along #393
End’s Meat
The things we say. There are some things that often strike me as weird, or funny.
Until I reached the approximate age of 25, I thought the term wasn’t “making ends meet”... I thought it was “making ends meat”. I actually even had an explanation for the term in my head that made some level of logical sense... I figured, when times were tough, all that could be afforded was the end of a roast. So, complete with British accent storey telling, people would talk of how...
“Ahh, it was tough times back then, me lovey... we couldn’t afford the whole roast... na, back then we could only afford End’s Meat... and we felt lucky to have it.”
I felt this was much more poetic than simply making two ends come together. Ends of what anyway? Rope? I much prefer the end of the roast to the thought of a lasso.
Some things are spoken of differently in Ontario than they would be in the world I came from. Everybody around here, when talking of going from Toronto to Ottawa, says they’re “coming down to Ottawa”. Being one with a geographical background, I go the other way around... Ottawa is north, so you’d be coming up here from Toronto. I assume it’s based on sea level differences. Toronto is a bit higher than Ottawa so they come “down the hill”. Some may argue it’s the Toronto superiority complex and they look “down” their noses towards boring ol’ O-town. But Ottawa people do it too... speaking of “going up to Toronto for the weekend”.
There is one other place where the up and down aspect of things goes opposite of what I see as logical. Many Newfoundlanders, my father included, speak of going “down to the Labrador”. I’m really not sure where that one comes from, as Labrador would be both north and, if anything, higher than the island. But now that I’m used to it, I find the saying sort of legendary... especially with the “the” part thrown in. It’s not Labrador you’re going to... it’s THE Labrador.
With the help of google, I find this quote from a Melvin Baker, Robert Cuff article...
Residents of the Island of Newfoundland have regarded travel to Labrador as "going down north to Labrador" (or, more precisely, "the Labrador") rather than the usual geographical convention of regarding north as being "up". To Newfoundlanders the north has almost always been perceived as the Labrador portion of the province. Down north has been regarded alternately as a land of backwardness and poverty and as the Newfoundland "frontier", described by Smallwood in The New Newfoundland (1931) as "Newfoundland's high auxiliary" because of its resource potential.
And now we know.
There are other things around Ottawa that I’m not used to. There is Dalhousie Street. Anyone from the Atlantic region would pronounce this as del-HOWES-e. But people around here call it del-WHOS-e... and with the pronunciation of one word, your Atlantic roots can immediately be ascertained.
There is the use of baseball. That is the term, not the ball. In Newfoundland, baseball is the game as seen on TV. That one the Blue Jays try to play (stressing the “try”). After that, there’s two types of softball to play... fastpitch, and slow pitch. And back home, there is a level of manliness attached to each game. Baseball is played by the snobby elite. You’d say things like “pay no attention to him, he’s a baseball player” (said in the tone that he’s too caught up in himself to know what’s going on anyway). On the opposite side of things, slow pitch is played by drunkards... those that are two steps away from being homeless. You’d say things like “pay no attention to him, he’s a slow pitch player” (said in the tone that he’s too drunk to know what you’re saying anyway). The well rounded, good heads... we were all fastpitch players. Honourable members of a dying sport being overtaken by all those slow pitch riff raff.
In Ottawa, it’s all just baseball. Someone would say, “I’ve got to go, I’ve got baseball!” And, being an interested sort, you’d ask, “oh, you play baseball?” (Being surprised as you ask cause they don’t seem to be the snobby elite type). And they roll their eyes and begrudgingly say “well, slow pitch”. I think they call it baseball because they want to extend the illusion that somewhere out there, there may be a baseball card with their name and face on it. There are no softball cards to be had.
On TV, there are sayings that lose all meaning within moments. The most common that I notice is said at those times when two person news or sports casts end. One of the two hosts will say something like “for Jay Onrait, I’m Dan O’Toole, good night everyone”.
This is a touch silly sounding but still acceptable when it stands alone. But then Jay Onrait will chime in with a “Bye bye”... and the whole thing is ruined! Dan O’Toole spoke for you Jay Onrait. You’re last words makes what he said completely meaningless. Lesson to learn... Sometimes it’s just really hard for people to remain quiet.
Finally, there are those sayings that just need to go away. They have lost all relevance in today’s world and should never be spoken of again. You see, back in olden times... when times were tough and food was scarce, all people craved was a loaf of bread. I tell you, back then bread was viewed like a steak dinner. And if you had a bit of butter to go along with it, you lived just short of royalty.
“What did you do last night?”... “Why we broke bread with the Mitchell family from down the street, and a grand time we had!”
It didn’t take much back then. No need of a knife even. You just gathered with neighbours and broke your bread wide open, feasting on the bready goodness within.
With the only goal in life being to make enough money to earn your bread, with a bit of butter, born was the phrase, “that’s his bread and butter”. In other words, he’s so good at this particular skill, that he earns his bread and butter by doing it. (Again, I think using “End’s Meat” here would be even better).
But this bread and butter phrase continues... and it must be stopped. Lazy baseball commentators use it all the time (that’s real baseball, not Ontario baseball/softball/fastpitch/softball... of which there is no need for a commentator cause they’re too drunk/caught up in themselves to listen to a commentator anyway).
Constantly you hear them say things like “his curveball is his bread and butter.” In other words, that’s his best pitch. He’s making money as a baseball pitcher because of his curveball. The only thing is we’re beyond bread and butter. We have so much bread that we gorge ducks on the stuff at the pond! Enough with the bread and butter. When baseball players make $20 million dollars per season, there is no more talk of bread and butter.
So these are just a few of the words and phrases in this world that make absolutely no sense in using. And my “End’s Meat” is the best of all of them... and made that up based on pure stupidity for a twenty-five year period. Go figure.
SATURDAY...
— Work alone again, it’s a slightly busier than the average Saturday... but that doesn’t mean I’m worked too hard.
— Some hockey after work and then off to bed.
SUNDAY...
— Miss ball due to work. The team wins without me. I think I see the key to our success.
— Best Grey Cup I’ve watched in many a year... and there’s been some good ones over that time frame. Felt bad for Saskatchewan but it was still really fun to watch. KFC accompanied the game.
MONDAY...
— Last day working in CPSIC. Phil and I get pizza and have a fairly normal night of work.
TUESDAY...
— Quiet day at home. I’m now off until next Monday. The plus side of getting moved around at work.
— Blackberry surgery required tonight. Dust and dirt clogs the track ball and I can’t move the mouse up... check the internet a bit on procedure and I carefully remove and clean the ball. Don’t want to do that every day. But it works.
WEDNESDAY...
— Drinks and a bite of food with Laura. Janice and Cara Lea are there as well. Always fun seeing Laura... the stories... ah the stories.
— Finally get to see Ultimate Fighting on TV again (as it seems like it’s been the same repeat for months). Two shows back to back make it all better. But I have no interest in either of the guys going to the final... I was annoyed at the results of the fights.
THURSDAY...
— Groceries, some exercise, an hour and a half walk in the night.
FRIDAY...
— Accidently didn’t decline my Columbia House DVD for last month. Got lucky in the DVD I’m forced to take... Bring on Star Trek.
— Montreal’s 100th birthday of the Canadiens. Great ceremony to start the night. They really know how to make the history mean something. And cold shivers couldn’t be helped watching Patrick Roy skate out in full gear for a pre-game warm up.
SATURDAY...
— Home day. Pretty much do nothing. Get some flack for skipping out on a Christmas get together but I just wasn’t feeling too social tonight.
The things we say. There are some things that often strike me as weird, or funny.
Until I reached the approximate age of 25, I thought the term wasn’t “making ends meet”... I thought it was “making ends meat”. I actually even had an explanation for the term in my head that made some level of logical sense... I figured, when times were tough, all that could be afforded was the end of a roast. So, complete with British accent storey telling, people would talk of how...
“Ahh, it was tough times back then, me lovey... we couldn’t afford the whole roast... na, back then we could only afford End’s Meat... and we felt lucky to have it.”
I felt this was much more poetic than simply making two ends come together. Ends of what anyway? Rope? I much prefer the end of the roast to the thought of a lasso.
Some things are spoken of differently in Ontario than they would be in the world I came from. Everybody around here, when talking of going from Toronto to Ottawa, says they’re “coming down to Ottawa”. Being one with a geographical background, I go the other way around... Ottawa is north, so you’d be coming up here from Toronto. I assume it’s based on sea level differences. Toronto is a bit higher than Ottawa so they come “down the hill”. Some may argue it’s the Toronto superiority complex and they look “down” their noses towards boring ol’ O-town. But Ottawa people do it too... speaking of “going up to Toronto for the weekend”.
There is one other place where the up and down aspect of things goes opposite of what I see as logical. Many Newfoundlanders, my father included, speak of going “down to the Labrador”. I’m really not sure where that one comes from, as Labrador would be both north and, if anything, higher than the island. But now that I’m used to it, I find the saying sort of legendary... especially with the “the” part thrown in. It’s not Labrador you’re going to... it’s THE Labrador.
With the help of google, I find this quote from a Melvin Baker, Robert Cuff article...
Residents of the Island of Newfoundland have regarded travel to Labrador as "going down north to Labrador" (or, more precisely, "the Labrador") rather than the usual geographical convention of regarding north as being "up". To Newfoundlanders the north has almost always been perceived as the Labrador portion of the province. Down north has been regarded alternately as a land of backwardness and poverty and as the Newfoundland "frontier", described by Smallwood in The New Newfoundland (1931) as "Newfoundland's high auxiliary" because of its resource potential.
And now we know.
There are other things around Ottawa that I’m not used to. There is Dalhousie Street. Anyone from the Atlantic region would pronounce this as del-HOWES-e. But people around here call it del-WHOS-e... and with the pronunciation of one word, your Atlantic roots can immediately be ascertained.
There is the use of baseball. That is the term, not the ball. In Newfoundland, baseball is the game as seen on TV. That one the Blue Jays try to play (stressing the “try”). After that, there’s two types of softball to play... fastpitch, and slow pitch. And back home, there is a level of manliness attached to each game. Baseball is played by the snobby elite. You’d say things like “pay no attention to him, he’s a baseball player” (said in the tone that he’s too caught up in himself to know what’s going on anyway). On the opposite side of things, slow pitch is played by drunkards... those that are two steps away from being homeless. You’d say things like “pay no attention to him, he’s a slow pitch player” (said in the tone that he’s too drunk to know what you’re saying anyway). The well rounded, good heads... we were all fastpitch players. Honourable members of a dying sport being overtaken by all those slow pitch riff raff.
In Ottawa, it’s all just baseball. Someone would say, “I’ve got to go, I’ve got baseball!” And, being an interested sort, you’d ask, “oh, you play baseball?” (Being surprised as you ask cause they don’t seem to be the snobby elite type). And they roll their eyes and begrudgingly say “well, slow pitch”. I think they call it baseball because they want to extend the illusion that somewhere out there, there may be a baseball card with their name and face on it. There are no softball cards to be had.
On TV, there are sayings that lose all meaning within moments. The most common that I notice is said at those times when two person news or sports casts end. One of the two hosts will say something like “for Jay Onrait, I’m Dan O’Toole, good night everyone”.
This is a touch silly sounding but still acceptable when it stands alone. But then Jay Onrait will chime in with a “Bye bye”... and the whole thing is ruined! Dan O’Toole spoke for you Jay Onrait. You’re last words makes what he said completely meaningless. Lesson to learn... Sometimes it’s just really hard for people to remain quiet.
Finally, there are those sayings that just need to go away. They have lost all relevance in today’s world and should never be spoken of again. You see, back in olden times... when times were tough and food was scarce, all people craved was a loaf of bread. I tell you, back then bread was viewed like a steak dinner. And if you had a bit of butter to go along with it, you lived just short of royalty.
“What did you do last night?”... “Why we broke bread with the Mitchell family from down the street, and a grand time we had!”
It didn’t take much back then. No need of a knife even. You just gathered with neighbours and broke your bread wide open, feasting on the bready goodness within.
With the only goal in life being to make enough money to earn your bread, with a bit of butter, born was the phrase, “that’s his bread and butter”. In other words, he’s so good at this particular skill, that he earns his bread and butter by doing it. (Again, I think using “End’s Meat” here would be even better).
But this bread and butter phrase continues... and it must be stopped. Lazy baseball commentators use it all the time (that’s real baseball, not Ontario baseball/softball/fastpitch/softball... of which there is no need for a commentator cause they’re too drunk/caught up in themselves to listen to a commentator anyway).
Constantly you hear them say things like “his curveball is his bread and butter.” In other words, that’s his best pitch. He’s making money as a baseball pitcher because of his curveball. The only thing is we’re beyond bread and butter. We have so much bread that we gorge ducks on the stuff at the pond! Enough with the bread and butter. When baseball players make $20 million dollars per season, there is no more talk of bread and butter.
So these are just a few of the words and phrases in this world that make absolutely no sense in using. And my “End’s Meat” is the best of all of them... and made that up based on pure stupidity for a twenty-five year period. Go figure.
SATURDAY...
— Work alone again, it’s a slightly busier than the average Saturday... but that doesn’t mean I’m worked too hard.
— Some hockey after work and then off to bed.
SUNDAY...
— Miss ball due to work. The team wins without me. I think I see the key to our success.
— Best Grey Cup I’ve watched in many a year... and there’s been some good ones over that time frame. Felt bad for Saskatchewan but it was still really fun to watch. KFC accompanied the game.
MONDAY...
— Last day working in CPSIC. Phil and I get pizza and have a fairly normal night of work.
TUESDAY...
— Quiet day at home. I’m now off until next Monday. The plus side of getting moved around at work.
— Blackberry surgery required tonight. Dust and dirt clogs the track ball and I can’t move the mouse up... check the internet a bit on procedure and I carefully remove and clean the ball. Don’t want to do that every day. But it works.
WEDNESDAY...
— Drinks and a bite of food with Laura. Janice and Cara Lea are there as well. Always fun seeing Laura... the stories... ah the stories.
— Finally get to see Ultimate Fighting on TV again (as it seems like it’s been the same repeat for months). Two shows back to back make it all better. But I have no interest in either of the guys going to the final... I was annoyed at the results of the fights.
THURSDAY...
— Groceries, some exercise, an hour and a half walk in the night.
FRIDAY...
— Accidently didn’t decline my Columbia House DVD for last month. Got lucky in the DVD I’m forced to take... Bring on Star Trek.
— Montreal’s 100th birthday of the Canadiens. Great ceremony to start the night. They really know how to make the history mean something. And cold shivers couldn’t be helped watching Patrick Roy skate out in full gear for a pre-game warm up.
SATURDAY...
— Home day. Pretty much do nothing. Get some flack for skipping out on a Christmas get together but I just wasn’t feeling too social tonight.
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