even more dangerous than a sling-shot

... so there I was sitting on a park bench on Cunard St trying to get my yack-tracks on. It was a little awkward getting them on but I thought it would be nice to have a little traction and, although it was February it was a mild day meaning the snow banks would be melting slightly leaving a crispy sheen on the sidewalks making it scenic to look at but easy to fall on your bum.

I always have trouble coordinating getting my left tracks on, maybe because I'm right handed I'm guessing because I have no trouble getting the right one on. So, I had the right one on no problems but the left one took 3 attempts and I was actually working up a sweat with the effort as it was like working out with tiny rubber chest- expander's. The third try I was successful but I looked at it expectantly as though it would fail. But it held so I resumed my walk. As my friend Kevin Shute at work said , " I was walking with a loaded spring of death attached to my boot!!! "

I was walking along quite fast , I wasn't in a hurry but I enjoyed the thrill of passing lesser- footed mortals in my wake. I was heading down quite a steep incline, known to Haligonian's as a steep hill!! Sure enough, I was rounding a bend, just as a bus was passing. The bus driver may have been slowing down as we were simultaneously passing a bus-stop. He saw I wasn't getting on his bus and started to pull away . To my right was a kid throwing snowballs just off the path
and he threw a snow-ball at the bus and he shot off a great shot that hit the window with a thump. The bus driver stopped to give the boy a lecture and for some reason, maybe my toe was tingling with anticipation but at that very moment my yack- tracks over-shoe shot off my left boot and like a sling- shot, my overshoe struck the rear window of the bus and shattered the glass with a tremendous crash.

I observed the look of horror on the boy's face with some glee I'm ashamed to say, and I kept walking past the bus without bothering to reclaim my over-shoe and hoped the red-faced bus driver also did not notice I only had one shoe-track on my feet instead of the usual two!!

The Book of Hatrack

I am going to be doing a big project over the next few months. I've been 'not ' writing a children's book on and off for about 20 years. I've decided to put on a determined effort to get this done. I had the idea I would post something very short on this blog stating, expect no posts for the next 6 months , working on the great Canadian novel. But then I thought why not incorporate this project into my blog .

So, I will start with an overall plan for what the book is in its entirety and then outlines for each chapter, along the way. And the occasional snippet or sample of the novel itself!

Steve

outline for The book of Hatrack

The book starts with a prologue, perhaps 5 chapters, laying out the origins of Hatrack. It starts in the 1600s. I chose that time period not so much because I had any great interest in the 17th Century but because that time period was the hayday of piracy. So long as pirate ships avoided fortified towns and didn't show their true colours until they were certain of victory then it's easy to understand why these were heady times for pirates. That's quite an easy way to make a living if you can pick your battles. It's no wonder why so many men (and some women) chose that type of life.

I've toyed with the idea of Nfld being Hatrack, as they have a long and famous history of piracy.

Also Haiti ( Hispaneol) is an obvious alternative. Hispaneol is already in the book. It would be hard to write about about piracy in the Caribean without mentioning it.

I get stuck on how to get to Hatrack as it's cut off from the modern world and can't spend their vast wealth in treasure. I , of course though of the standard pirate curse BUT that is such an over- used ploy I decided against it...

Hatrack is basically my version of Halifax NS the way I would imagine it to be in the 17th Century. Although it hadn't been founded yet ( that didn't happen until the 18th C ) there were ships of all kinds, all along the eastern seaboard, and although there were no docks in place it would be easy for a ship to dock in Halifax Harbour and row a ships crew ashore. So, its not a big stretch of the imagination to imagine pirates in Halifax at that time.

I was interested to learn that pirate ships were very democratic places . They didn't need to much of an excuse to kill someone but the world itself at that time was a very cruel place. There were terrible working conditions for most people and no such things as workers rights. So the lure of piracy would be very strong . Also, the pirates crew would split their booty ( no I don't mean bum) fairly amongst the crew according to rank or station, the captain of course getting the lions share. But even the lowliest crew member, whether he be a cook , musician or cabin boy would get a share far more attractive, comparable to what he'd earn as a cook , musician or cabin boy on a merchant ship or the Royal Navy.

My book deals with modern times but the pirates are stuck in the mythical island of Hatrack. They have hoards of money but have the frustraion of not being able to spend any of their ill -gotten gains because there is no way out! So, their society is what I would term a post- piratic society. They are no longer pirates of course because they have no ships but in some ways they have kept their pirate ways. School of course would be very scary because mis-behaviour would be rewarded. It would be a tough job being a teacher. This post-piratic society would be dangerous in all kinds of different ways. There would be no gentlemanly way of settling a score. Duels would be a very common occurence in Hatrack. Also, things like job- safety would be regarded as a very sissy practice so don't expect job safety in Hatrack!!!

I've given a lot of thought about what kind of vehicles they would have in Hatrack. Or would they be still stuck in horse age? I always liked the idea of golf-carts being the main mode of transport.

Maybe , while its impossible to squeeze into Hatrack a full sized car they do have success getting a golf cart.

poster boy

Well, this is going to be a very revealing blog post today.

I am currently awaiting my fate on 2 things . The first being awaiting the result of a blood test, the other being awaiting my fate by Revenue Canada. Ooh, I know, both topics give

tragic accident avoided with aid from 'meat' grinder

There was an interesting headline in my home-town newspaper recently that grabbed my attention. " Trapped penis cut free by grinder," Daily Echo,Thursday, January 10th ,2010, Southampton , England. Story by Matt Smith. I must not be the only one who never grew up as it was the most popular story of the day (on website the next day I see it's still the #1 story). I'm going to quote directly from the Daily Echo here:

A MAN who got his genitalia stuck in a steel pipe had to be cut free by eight firefighters using an industrial grinder.
The heavy duty cutting gear had to be used to remove the three-inch long hollow pipe after medics were unable to release it.
The painstaking operation, which involved eight firefighters, took around an hour.
The drama began after the man took himself to the accident and emergency department of Southampton General Hospital.

I can only imagine what an interesting drive to the hospital that must have been for the poor soul. Also hope he has a car and didn't have to walk or get the bus to the hospital.

The story continues: ( I'd normally paraphrase here the rest of the story, but the story is funny with no need of help from me).

Restricted blood flow had left the man in a state of arousal, and unable to remove the pipe.
Staff there were so concerned that they phoned the emergency services and a crew from Redbridge Fire Station were initially dispatched.
But they had to bring in backup from St Mary’s station which has a fire truck equipped with specialist cutting gear.
A disc gutter cutter, with a four-and-a-half-inch blade, was used to slice open the stainless steel pipe.

I must say, the real hero in this story is the man who bravely wielded the cutter so close to his patients pride and joy. He did the task assigned with skill and aplomb , with-out refusing through fear of a law-suit if he bungled and carved the turkey a little closer to the bone than he'd intended... "Oops, sorry Sir. If I hadn't been laughing so much you'd still have your man- hood intact!!! "

The story concludes happily you'll be pleased to learn:

The man, in his 30s, offered no explanation for his predicament but was said to be “quite concerned and anxious”. He had been given an anaesthetic to prepare for the procedure.
St Mary’s crew manager Adrian Johnson said: “It was a very delicate operation. We did not want anything heating up.
The person who did it deserves a commendation for his nerve and steady hand.”
Meanwhile, watch manager Greg Garrett from Redbridge station added: “I’ve only come across this type of thing three or four times in my 17 years as a firefighter. It’s not a daily occurrence.”
The man’s private parts were left bruised and swollen.

So, the man walked away with his pride hurt but , as my friend Kevin Shute at work said, "At least he didn't go home with his testicles and penis in a paper bag! "

So, children, today's question is for my male readers, " Have you ever slung your hook in an embarrassing (or painful) place.? " Most men are private about these things ( and rightly so) . I personally have had no more than a dozen such occurrences in my life-time. Hmm, there was the time I schlepped it into a garburator instead of the sink hole.. Um, hmm, let me think. Oh yes, there was the time I schlepped it into my restored 1963 Chevy Corvair exhaust pipe.. Oh God how I loved that car!

hmm let me see. This will be the last one because I don't want to be wrongly accused of being desperate and can't find a girl-friend. Oh yes, there was the 'incident' where I met a transvestite in a bar and I was too drunk to notice that he/she had an Adam's apple.

Here's some wisdom I can share with you. This would be more valuable Here's some words of advice my poor dear departed father passed down to me.

Be wary of where you sling your hook dear son. And also , be especially wary of women with Adam's apples.

Good advice. I get teary eyed thinking about what sage advice he gave me. And now I can pass that advice to men everywhere.

no longer a nation of map readers

There I am, just getting used to the idea of college grads never having cracked the pages of a novel. I admit I was a lapsed avid reader until very recently when for some reason after about 3 years of barely reading anything, someone suggested I try reading "Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk" and sure enough, it grabbed me and I've been reading novels ever since. I also admit being the origin of the crack of a virgin book spine in 17th C Literature class . I found the class unbearably dull so I barely cracked the book open for the entire semester.

So, I understand these things and am sympathetic towards people who'd rather watch dvds or play video games than read books. Even worse, there I was a college grad with a degree in English Literature , an unapologetic lover of great works of literature and for whatever reason had totally lost interest in reading anything; not even magazines. I did read the paper every morning on-line but that was about it. So, in other words I was sympathetic to the plight of readers lost to the temptation of shiny objects.

During my recent 1 week trip to England, I was driven around by Dave of the NZ branch of my family ( who also happened to be visiting the same week as me) and he referred to the GPS navigational system as a Tom Tom. I had of course heard of this new technology and like I mentioned in a previous post I am used to giving out the postal code where I work so people can plug that information into their GPS so the machine can navigate them to our office. Dave had a Tom Tom in his rental car. He still knew the roads around Southampton quite well because that was where he grew up and where he first learned to drive, AND he's a good boy and visits home more often than me! Tom Tom is , if you didn't know already, the name of the company who invented the GPS. But there were a couple of days, such as a day-trip to see Stonehenge and also a day-trip to his wife's mother's home to a small village close to Oxford where he did use the Tom Tom.

I found the tone of Tom Tom quite reassuring... It was a woman's voice. For most of the trip it sounded something like this, " Exit coming up soon. Take 1st Exit on the roundabout. "

Sure enough, the roundabout comes up, Dave whips through expertly and the Tom Tom is silent again.

Hmmm, I thought to myself. Maybe this is a new technology I can get used to. The GPS system, Tom Tom , Map Reading for Idiots Who Can't Read Maps as my friend Kevin Shute who works in my office insultingly and with derision refers to them. But there have been lots of reports in the media of late telling of GPS guided tours that have gone horribly wrong. Tales of driver's
driving according to the GPS into a pond (oops sorry that was Steve Carell in an episode of the Office). But no there was a real tale of someone who was trying to go down an alternative route offered by the GPS and got stuck in the snow and was stranded for days.

There have been reports of people driving off cliffs as instructed by their Tom Tom . Hmm, must have had lemming qualities. That must have been interesting instructions coming from the GPS:

" Turn right at the next roundabout. Take the next right. I know a better way. Take the next gravel road on the left. Excellent... Now take the next right. It looks like a cliff but it is a secret route to the Magic Roundabout... Have I ever let you down... Please do not hesitate... Well done... Excellent..." Sound of car careening through a safety rail, a few seconds of silence and then the sound of an explosion.

Oh no, this is our new future. If schools stopped music classes because of budgetary restraints you know they aren't going to institute compulsory map reading classes for kids taking driver- education.

There are all kinds of people worried about things like bible prophesies predicting the end of the world, movie's coming out soon preying on our fears of biblical Armageddon, post- nuclear holocaust story- lines, movies about zombie-like creatures taking over the earth; not to mention movies about vampire lesbian's ( ok that one I might go see)...

I personally think our untimely demise will be caused by our own brilliant brand of stupid .

ex-pat returns to uk after 33 years absence

"Its true", I often tell people who ask me! It's been 33 years since I left England. I left in 1976 after spending 6 years of my child-hood in prison. Oops, I mean the Army. And yes I was in the British Army which means , depending on whom you speak with; I was on our side!!!

I'm sure the first thought that pops into people's minds when I tell them how long its been since I have graced the shores of Britain with my presence is, " I wonder who he killed??"

I hate to be bore you but I did not kill anyone and I have no real reason as to why the heck I left visiting my former home for such a long time. I've never had a lot of money but there's been many times when I was flush with enough cash to go for a trip. Especially when I had higher paying sales -type jobs. I did neglect to tell the Army that I was leaving the country , and had I stayed I would have had to have done 3 more years in the reserves . But I solved that problem years ago when after living here in Canada about a year. I received a letter stating I should have told them my intentions to leave the country but I only would have had to serve in the reserves had I remained a resident of the UK. I guess I wrongly assumed that they could have done better without me , seeing as how I was an ex- bandsman during my service to my country!!!

I had an un-eventful flight. I'd flown many times within Canada in my recent past but I was a little rusty in preparing for the trip. I'd forgotten the effort required just doing things such as applying for a passport , putting aside some money and more importantly, how much money would I need. Planning some places I would like to see, especially as I was going in December; not July so there were no beaches in my plans. I have no fear of flying so there were no issues there; although if the flight gets a little bumpy I do have the habit of checking to see whether the crew are making any Hail Mary's or screaming in panic but again, no issues there. So, I arrived after a night flight that lasted about 6 hours. I arrived very tired and sleep deprived but none the worse for wear. I staggered through the obstacle course better known as Heathrow Airport Arrivals. The customs girl quizzed me a little then she said, " Welcome Home!"

Amazingly, the man who was going to be driving me and my girlfriend to my hometown of
Southampton was there as promised, holding up a sign with my surname on it. The weather was about 6 degrees warmer than what I'd just left behind in Halifax so that was a nice surprise.
" Probably like British Columbia." I thought to myself. " So that's why house prices are so expensive in BC. " We whizzed along in a station wagon of some sort and made great time specially as we'd wisely brought luggage as carry-on and saved probably a half hour trying to find our luggage. Some things I noticed on the way were everything seemed lush and green and also, although we're not talking about the plethora of trees in Canada, and , against what someone had told me , there were trees. And it was a sunny day to boot!!

We were going to be staying at my aunt's house and as we drove into her neighborhood I giggled when I saw the rows and rows of tiny brick bungalows. Then her street in the village ( some might say small town) of Hedge End and it was just as I'd left it.