Friday, September 29, 2006

Rory and the Rooster Man

Downtown Victoria surely suffers from an array of different walks of life. Of course, it is not a particularly large city, but it has the most temperate climate of any city in Canada and, therefore, welcomes the homeless seeking warmth to the wealthy seeking refuge and everything in between. One sunny afternoon, as I was driving through downtown Victoria with Rory and Jennifer, as a matter of course, we pulled up to a busy intersection crowded with pedestrians. On an adjacent building, leaning up against the wall with his posse of ruffians was a young man clearly in need of attention. This particular young gentleman had a mohawk with four or five very obvious spikes dyed cherry red. I turned to Jennifer with a coy grin and quietly chuckled, "Check out Rooster-head over there." She glanced over and achieved the same little smirk that I had. This young man's attempt to look angry, intimidating and tough only added to the hilarity of the image. Obviously our smirk did little to impress him as he offered an angry sneer, clearly aimed in our direction. I diverted my attention as I frequently make it a habit to avoid engaging stupidity, but Rory had other plans. Little did we know that, in the backseat, Rory had overheard every word of our conversation and just as we were about to pull away, through his open passenger side window, Rory hollered, (insert intonation of a crowing rooster) "Rr - rr-rr - rr-rrrrrr." The unfortunate young man, was left only with the sound of uproarious laughter from the front seat of our car as we drove away.
See you in hell,
Shakes.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Checklist

Everyone has a checklist. It is the list of things in our life that we have decided we want to accomplish. It is in the failing to achieve one of these items that we feel disappointed. It is an objective mechanism by which we become aware of our own mortality as time marches forward in our lives and we age. If the checklist is not completed as scheduled, we become worried and more fearful of death.
Re-evaluation of the checklist is ongoing as we learn and become aware of ourselves, our interests and our abilities. As such, many things on the checklist are deleted, many are added, but many remain there for life.
It is in the content and pursuit of the items on the checklist that we are fulfilled and experience life.
My checklist has been vast. Many things have been achieved. Many have not. Many things have been on schedule. Many have not. I have experienced much. Some of the most important items are in progress now. My checklist nears completion.
See you in hell,
Shakes.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

The Shining

We are all familiar with the terrifying book by Stephen King and its hyper-popular counterpart movie starring Jack Nicholson, which probably brought more fame to the phrase "Heeeere's Johnny" than old Ed McMahon ever did, but I have an even better memory.
If you've been keeping up, you will have noticed that Blair's vocabulary has been a mainstay of levity and delight in my life. As a derivative of the word sunshine, Blair used to refer to the daytime as "shining outside". This part of his lexicon was, in turn, passed on to Milo.
Some of the sweetest and cutest moments in my life have occurred early in the morning with Blair, or late at night with Milo when I have had to move him from the van to the house. They would just barely wake up, look into my eyes, and in very infantile, soft voices, the likes of which can only be produced by a young child as he is just waking up, they would whisper, "Is it shining outside now?"
Often Milo, in his natural exuberance, would wake up before I did. In order to wake me up, he would excitedly announce his belief that it was time to be out of bed.
"Look, Daddy! It's shining outside! It's shining outside!" That is an alarm clock to die for, which no man with a heart could resist.
See you in heaven,
Shakes.

The Magic Hotdog Man

Many people have commented on my almost supernatural addiction to hotdogs. Superficially, my relationship with the hotdog may seem like any other simple characteristic of a person with an obsessive-compulsive personality, but I assure you, the story goes much deeper.
I'm sure the gentleman who served me this pivotal hotdog was an unwashed, middle-aged, career carny who simply asked me if I wanted an available condiment, but my memory of the moment is much different. It is mystical and elusive and goes something like this.
It was a balmy summer evening in August back in 1983 when I was enjoying an evening at the Super-Ex in Ottawa; an annual exhibition that comes to Lansdowne Park and includes the requisite cattle and livestock exhibits and such. I, of course, was there for the midway: a cacophony of rides and games and lights and foods and smells and colours to delight all the senses. Everything was ridiculously priced but the excitement of such a summer night was too much to resist. After an evening of racing to the next ride, waiting in queu after queu to be hurtled through the air by life-threatening machines built by the lowest bidder and with the least of care, and losing in a litany of over-priced games which all seemed like sure-wins by the demo, I was exhausted . . . and very hungry.
Now I enjoyed a simple hot dog as much as the next average teenage boy, but I was by no means exclusive to them in my junk-food loyalties. They had no particularly special appeal to me at all. But that all changed.
As I scanned about my surroundings in search of any convenient fast food vendor, a hotdog stand caught my eye. It was abandoned by customers with no line-up and I could smell the sizzling onions on the grill from thirty feet away. More interesting was the fact that the vendor was looking right at me. He summoned me with a smile and a hand gesture and in my hunger, I happily complied. He wasn't pushy or ignorant. He had a friendly smile, and a soft, confident voice.
"Are you hungry son?"
"Yeah, actually I am."
"Would you like a hotdog? They're foot-long, you know."
"Uh, I don't think so. I'm thinkin' about pizza."
"Ohhhh, but this is no ordinary hotdog. It'll change your life. Try it out - half-price."
"Sold, mister. Give me a foot-long."
I watched the lengthy sausage sizzle on the greasy grill, sided by a mound of cooking, diced onions and tomatoes. Then with his tongs he gently, . . . ever so gently, tucked the meat into the lightly toasted bun and with another gentle smile and a twinkle in his eye, he whispered, "Do you want some onions and tomatoes with that?"
"To be sure, mister," I said. "I'm starving."
Using his long, flat spatula, he scooped a generous portion of the fried condiments from the grill and into the awaiting bun. By this time my hunger had reached leviathan proportions and as I sunk my teeth into the juicy meat and the onion-filled bun, I reached a state of satisfaction unparalleled even by those addicted to chocolate. It was a turning point in my life from which there would be no return, . . . and the hotdog had established itself in my heart for the rest of my days.
I devoured the entire thing in only moments to my utter delight. As I reeled around to thank the man for his generous offering, I was taken aback in fear and mystical amazement. The booth was gone, with the man and all his accoutrements having simply vanished into a whisp of mist. I asked my friends, "Did you see that?" Of course, they hadn't and I was left alone in my bewilderment and revelry. My life was changed forever.
I wonder who invented the hotdog. There's one for the internet.
See you in hell,
Shakes.

Friday, September 01, 2006

In My Opinion

I scrawled these across a receipt one night working the overnight shift at an Esso station in 1993. That would have made me an arrogant 23-years-old. This post is sure to prompt some people to post a comment.

Hell's Angels and Alpha Beta Pi:
I have never had much respect for any fraternal group, whether it is Ivay League or dressed up white trash. Think for yourself, people! Mob-style violence and monetary sanctions to enforce coercive power can never be a substitute for true power. Greed motivates everything.

Baby-boomers:
The votes are in, and they screwed us (or at least their elected government did). My parents still believe that their achievement of equity and security is because they worked harder than I did. Supply-side economics plummeted us into unmaintanable government fiscal planning, but bought a lot of votes in the 60's and 70's. I will work twice as hard with no job security to achieve an emptied retirement fund.

Gay Rights:
Homophobia is out of fashion and should be. What is the problem here? Lighten up, Alberta. Do you really care? Give them what they want. Their demands are platitudes because gay marriages are no more proned to success than are heterosexual ones. Please, keep penises out of politics, no matter what your sexual orientation.

Bible-Thumpers:
You're kidding, right? Think for yourselves, people. It is a great set of incongruent, conflicting and temporally irrelevant parables. I've yet to meet a 'good' Christian that has taken a vow of poverty (quite the contrary). I've yet to meet a person that has taken a vow of poverty that isn't crazy. No one person could possibly tell any other person what the bible "really" means. Jesus was very cool, but I'll bet he DID inhale!

Lenny Kravitz:
Now that he is sporting his new retro-stylin', Jimmi Hendrix wannabe hairstyle, can we finally agree that he is a ROCK star? LSD drenched headband coming soon.

Religion:
It was the opiate of the masses . . . 1000 years ago! Now, we have television which is far more insulting. Any religion today becomes the mythology of tomorrow. Any attempt to identify or categorize a higher power is arrogant and impossible. Those too weak or frightened to face the horrors of reality turn to religion for comfort and answers to unanswerable questions which is tantamount to sticking your head in the sand. Otherwise, religion is nothing more than a systemic set of ethical rules as to which of our natural and heathenistic tendencies we accept and which we reject. Heaven and hell are myths that originated on earth because they are both here.

Sex:
More, please.

Guns:
Anyone stupid enough to argue in favour of guns deserves to be American. It is the only tool on the planet that has one use and one use only: killing. As Dennis Miller once said, "If we got all the mothers of the world together to vote, guns would be nothing but a sad, sad memory." And yes, I do realize the irony in that I just quoted an American.

Drugs:
They have the power to save your life, or to ruin it. Be careful! Yes, I mean you. And I mean be more careful than that.

Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Aaaaaaa-ha-ha-ha.......

See you in hell,
Shakes.