Friday, 31 October 2008
My government working for and with me
Today, I received a flyer describing options for developing public transit along a major route linking my community, which is part of the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) with another part adjacent to mine. The combined population is well over one million residents. It is a well-designed, three-page, glossy, full-colour pamphlet detailing options, pros and cons of options and outlines a plan of major milestones. One section is a chart indicating where and when community workshops are being held to allow input from and discussion between the public and project planners. I was very impressed with the entire content of this communication from my elected officials, especially the fact that they decided to include me in the process of shaping my community. There's only one little glitch in the whole thing: THE MEETING FOR MY AREA HAPPENED TWO DAYS AGO! In fact, two of the five scheduled meetings for different areas have already taken place! And unless I was the last one to receive my invitation, the third meeting will have taken place before some people are notified.
If the same kind of planning and execution goes into the rest of the project, it should be an overwhelming success. NOT!
I just sent a modified version of the above to my rep for Brampton. I, of course, am not holding my breath waiting for a response.
If the same kind of planning and execution goes into the rest of the project, it should be an overwhelming success. NOT!
I just sent a modified version of the above to my rep for Brampton. I, of course, am not holding my breath waiting for a response.
Q & A's from around the web
Why do visible police cars have to be replaced by ambulances?
Because they can't find the invisible ones to replace.
Because they can't find the invisible ones to replace.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
Are the ice caps going to melt?
That depends. How long ago did you pick them up at the coffee shop?
That depends. How long ago did you pick them up at the coffee shop?
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
Any suggestions on Great toddler snacks?
Toddlers are great on crackers with melted cheddar.
Toddlers are great on crackers with melted cheddar.
Monday, 27 October 2008
Grammar policing
It's becoming more and more difficult to find someone who can compose even a simple sentence, anymore. This promotion is hosted by a popular Toronto radio station on their website:
Sky Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge is in Mississauga at 2680 Skymark Avenue. From award-winning jumbo wings to signature salads. Comfortable, elegant dining.
The second and third "sentences" are invalid. There's no action/verb. I would change them thusly:
We serve award-winning jumbo wings to signature salads. Enjoy comfortable, elegant dining.
I suppose it's not as egregious as an error appearing in the New York Times or other prestigious publications. I've seen errors in many of them. Sometimes two or three in the same paragraph. And I'm just a lay person who didn't even finish high school. I finally decided to get my GED when I was in my forties.
Sky Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge is in Mississauga at 2680 Skymark Avenue. From award-winning jumbo wings to signature salads. Comfortable, elegant dining.
The second and third "sentences" are invalid. There's no action/verb. I would change them thusly:
We serve award-winning jumbo wings to signature salads. Enjoy comfortable, elegant dining.
I suppose it's not as egregious as an error appearing in the New York Times or other prestigious publications. I've seen errors in many of them. Sometimes two or three in the same paragraph. And I'm just a lay person who didn't even finish high school. I finally decided to get my GED when I was in my forties.
Is this the last frontier...
...of the women's movement? While so much has changed for women over the last 50 years or so, one thing that seems to be resisting tooth and nail is the notion that men are expected to pay for the cost of a date. I should mention that I am old school and have always picked up the entire cost of a date. It does, however, seem like an outdated thing to do, especially if the female is well-off financially. I'm sure the practise has its roots in the fact that very, very few women used to work, and therefore had no money. Don't you think it's time that we drop traditions that no longer make sense for the times? I was astounded at some of the answers people gave to the following question (I didn't ask it). (I am copying the question and answers verbatim and adding my comments in red.)
Question:
Answers:
I guess it's just the traditional way and shows that the guy cares.
If paying shows caring, does it follow that when a woman doesn't pay, it shows she doesn't care?
because paying for the dates would be something a gentleman would do
Using the same logic, a woman who doesn't pay is not a lady?
Because he's the guy
The girl above thinks that picking up the tab is in the male genes.
Do you want to talk about unfair? Try having to pass a human through a little tiny hole later on in life. . Or have monthly visits taht make you all moody and irritable. You have got it made. next time you feel like complaining about it remember what we have to go through . Dont complain & just pay the bill =) plus if you do.. its so much more attractive. even though we are all about "empowering" we still like manners and having respect.
Wow. The girl above thinks it's only fair that males should pay for dates as compensation for the inconveniences that the female physiology possesses. Furthermore, every guy a girl dates should pay for the day she has to suffer the pain of passing some other guy's child. And since, according to her, it's also a matter of manners and respect, I think we can conclude that she rarely displays her manners or shows respect.
Because it'a woman who will have to pay for rasing a child alone, if anything goes wrong.
Interesting take. This young lady's idea of "a date gone wrong" is getting pregnant, having a child, and the father skipping town. And she demands a free meal just in case such unfortunate circumstances arise. I suppose that's fair compensation.
Oh, c'mon. Admit it; you just don't want to spend the money. It's okay to be a cheapskate if that's what you want. Don't blame it on the ladies.
What this woman believes is that a person who doesn't pay for a date is only a cheapskate if they don't have a vagina.
i like it its better that way its like their role they barely do anything nowadays anymore the least they could do is pick up the check
The lady above doesn't mind dating lazy, ne'er-do-well's, so long as they pick up the check. And it also sounds like she feels all men are lazy.
Question:
Why are guys supposed to pay for dates?
It just seems a little unfair, doesnt it?
I'm all for being a gentleman and stuff, but its just been on m mind...
Every girl's all about empowering women nowadays, so it just seems a little out of place...
I'm all for being a gentleman and stuff, but its just been on m mind...
Every girl's all about empowering women nowadays, so it just seems a little out of place...
Answers:
I guess it's just the traditional way and shows that the guy cares.
If paying shows caring, does it follow that when a woman doesn't pay, it shows she doesn't care?
because paying for the dates would be something a gentleman would do
Using the same logic, a woman who doesn't pay is not a lady?
Because he's the guy
The girl above thinks that picking up the tab is in the male genes.
Do you want to talk about unfair? Try having to pass a human through a little tiny hole later on in life. . Or have monthly visits taht make you all moody and irritable. You have got it made. next time you feel like complaining about it remember what we have to go through . Dont complain & just pay the bill =) plus if you do.. its so much more attractive. even though we are all about "empowering" we still like manners and having respect.
Wow. The girl above thinks it's only fair that males should pay for dates as compensation for the inconveniences that the female physiology possesses. Furthermore, every guy a girl dates should pay for the day she has to suffer the pain of passing some other guy's child. And since, according to her, it's also a matter of manners and respect, I think we can conclude that she rarely displays her manners or shows respect.
Because it'a woman who will have to pay for rasing a child alone, if anything goes wrong.
Interesting take. This young lady's idea of "a date gone wrong" is getting pregnant, having a child, and the father skipping town. And she demands a free meal just in case such unfortunate circumstances arise. I suppose that's fair compensation.
Oh, c'mon. Admit it; you just don't want to spend the money. It's okay to be a cheapskate if that's what you want. Don't blame it on the ladies.
What this woman believes is that a person who doesn't pay for a date is only a cheapskate if they don't have a vagina.
i like it its better that way its like their role they barely do anything nowadays anymore the least they could do is pick up the check
The lady above doesn't mind dating lazy, ne'er-do-well's, so long as they pick up the check. And it also sounds like she feels all men are lazy.
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
If you're in your car stopped in traffic, and look over and find a girl staring at you, and then when you look at her, she smiles, does that mean she wants you?
Yeah, she does. And $80.
Yeah, she does. And $80.
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Global warming
I was standing at the supermarket checkout yesterday and they had a a small ad taped to the scale where it is just below the height of most people's chin. It was hard not to notice it. It was a plea for charity. Specifically, it said "Could you still ignore it if it were this obvious?" Below that, was a picture of a sad looking boy of perhaps eight years old sporting a t-shirt which read "I'm Hungry". Apparently, I could not and I reached into my pocket and gave the requested Toonie (Canadian $2 coin) to the cashier.
Before I had advanced to the point of the sign, I had noticed that the girl in the queue ahead of me was buying quite a few tins of cat food, and it sparked the affection I will always hold for felines since I had 13 beautiful years with my own cat before I had to put him down due to health problems. Anyway, as I started to put my items into my eco sac, I noticed a cat food tin, so I quickly looked up and out the door and could see the girl who bought them, and gathering up my stuff, I rushed out and caught up with her as she was getting into her car. I handed over the tin and as she thanked me, I told her we can't have hungry cats meowing all over the countryside.
As I continued on my way home (walking distance from the store), I noticed that despite the nip in the October air, the two events left me feeling a little warmer than I was on my way to the store. I would like to take this opportunity to challenge you all to go out of your way in the next day or two and perform a random act of kindness, no matter how small. This kind of global warming is good for the planet.
Before I had advanced to the point of the sign, I had noticed that the girl in the queue ahead of me was buying quite a few tins of cat food, and it sparked the affection I will always hold for felines since I had 13 beautiful years with my own cat before I had to put him down due to health problems. Anyway, as I started to put my items into my eco sac, I noticed a cat food tin, so I quickly looked up and out the door and could see the girl who bought them, and gathering up my stuff, I rushed out and caught up with her as she was getting into her car. I handed over the tin and as she thanked me, I told her we can't have hungry cats meowing all over the countryside.
As I continued on my way home (walking distance from the store), I noticed that despite the nip in the October air, the two events left me feeling a little warmer than I was on my way to the store. I would like to take this opportunity to challenge you all to go out of your way in the next day or two and perform a random act of kindness, no matter how small. This kind of global warming is good for the planet.
Friday, 24 October 2008
From the anals of time
At my age, pinpointing when something occurred, is sometimes tricky. My best guess is that the following occurred around the early 90's.
On a hot summers day, in Guelph, Ontario, Canada, young Gwen Jacobs was walking along the sidewalk of a busy downtown street. She suddenly decided right there and then that it was unfair for men to walk along topless while women had to be uncomfortably covered. She removed her top and nonchalantly continued her trek. In due course, as one might expect, the police arrived on the scene, "scene" being the operative word here, and promptly arrested her.
Gwen, the assertive and resourceful gal that she was, even at her tender 20ish age, secured herself a good lawyer. To make a short story shorter, the court was convinced that she was right in having equal rights to a man in regards to public (un)dress.
The effect of the case was immediate, if not widespread. In the following months, the occasional young, and even not so young, female could be seen exercising her new-found "freedom of expression", most often at beaches, parks or in one case, while watering the front lawn. Each incident that was spotted by a member of the hordes of press that were now scouring all venues they thought might yield another "Gwen", was immediately flashed across the television screens and had everyone wagging their tongues about it. Beach attendance figures broke all records that summer, attended by mostly adolescent boys (of all ages) hoping to get a head start on September's anatomy class.
Well, extremely conservative Canadians couldn't stand for such a public debacle. But what to do about it? When a "lady" of a certain age, in a small public pool, with even smaller children, insisted on exposing her ample bosom, thereby covering up her navel, enough was enough. The police arrested her and somehow managed to convict her of some sort of community standard statute. After that, one or two more incidents were reported to have occurred at the beach and that was the end of it. Canada was proud to revert back to the prude it has always been. And Gwen Jacobs was indelibly etched in Canadian history.
On a hot summers day, in Guelph, Ontario, Canada, young Gwen Jacobs was walking along the sidewalk of a busy downtown street. She suddenly decided right there and then that it was unfair for men to walk along topless while women had to be uncomfortably covered. She removed her top and nonchalantly continued her trek. In due course, as one might expect, the police arrived on the scene, "scene" being the operative word here, and promptly arrested her.
Gwen, the assertive and resourceful gal that she was, even at her tender 20ish age, secured herself a good lawyer. To make a short story shorter, the court was convinced that she was right in having equal rights to a man in regards to public (un)dress.
The effect of the case was immediate, if not widespread. In the following months, the occasional young, and even not so young, female could be seen exercising her new-found "freedom of expression", most often at beaches, parks or in one case, while watering the front lawn. Each incident that was spotted by a member of the hordes of press that were now scouring all venues they thought might yield another "Gwen", was immediately flashed across the television screens and had everyone wagging their tongues about it. Beach attendance figures broke all records that summer, attended by mostly adolescent boys (of all ages) hoping to get a head start on September's anatomy class.
Well, extremely conservative Canadians couldn't stand for such a public debacle. But what to do about it? When a "lady" of a certain age, in a small public pool, with even smaller children, insisted on exposing her ample bosom, thereby covering up her navel, enough was enough. The police arrested her and somehow managed to convict her of some sort of community standard statute. After that, one or two more incidents were reported to have occurred at the beach and that was the end of it. Canada was proud to revert back to the prude it has always been. And Gwen Jacobs was indelibly etched in Canadian history.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
How much more dirty can politics get?
The following ad has been playing on TV more times than I can count the last few weeks.
It seems to me that if politicians put half as much effort into serving the people as they put into digging up dirt and defaming their opposition, things would be a lot better for all of us. I've never understood why they get away with the slanderous messages they bombard us with. They never seem to get sued. I'm sure that at least some of these messages are true but either way, they are scumbags for libelling someone so viciously or else they are scumbags for having done what they're accused of. I can't wait until one of them is "exposed" as a paedophile or necrophiliac.
It seems to me that if politicians put half as much effort into serving the people as they put into digging up dirt and defaming their opposition, things would be a lot better for all of us. I've never understood why they get away with the slanderous messages they bombard us with. They never seem to get sued. I'm sure that at least some of these messages are true but either way, they are scumbags for libelling someone so viciously or else they are scumbags for having done what they're accused of. I can't wait until one of them is "exposed" as a paedophile or necrophiliac.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Caution: offensive content
Earlier this evening, I found another reason for my waning interest in watching hockey. Mind you, it's not a biggee, but just the same...
The Toronto Maple Leafs' Nik Antropov had just tied the game late in the third period against the Mighty Ducks (I still can't believe they adopted that name). The home crowd was going wild and the camera did a pan across the Leaf bench.
Many of the players were looking down as if there was something fascinating going on down there, and many others were looking in various directions, looking about as interested as if they were at a lawn bowling game. No offence to lawn bowlers who many I'm sure can make the Maple Leaf team.
Getting back to the camera pan, it stayed long enough on one player for the presumably millions of faithful Canadian hockey fans to witness the "horking up" of a "loogie" just shy of the size of a regulation golf ball, and its propulsion halfway across the ice surface, quite possibly landing on centre ice. If it were black, it might have instigated an invalid faceoff. However, the best was yet to come. One player, who will remain nameless, only because I was less interested in him, than he was that the camera was on him, had an index finger lodged up his nose, seemingly to the third knuckle, where it remained until it was out of camera range.
I think the ending of Taxi Driver is less offensive...maybe because it is reminiscent of old-time hockey. ;)
The Toronto Maple Leafs' Nik Antropov had just tied the game late in the third period against the Mighty Ducks (I still can't believe they adopted that name). The home crowd was going wild and the camera did a pan across the Leaf bench.
Many of the players were looking down as if there was something fascinating going on down there, and many others were looking in various directions, looking about as interested as if they were at a lawn bowling game. No offence to lawn bowlers who many I'm sure can make the Maple Leaf team.
Getting back to the camera pan, it stayed long enough on one player for the presumably millions of faithful Canadian hockey fans to witness the "horking up" of a "loogie" just shy of the size of a regulation golf ball, and its propulsion halfway across the ice surface, quite possibly landing on centre ice. If it were black, it might have instigated an invalid faceoff. However, the best was yet to come. One player, who will remain nameless, only because I was less interested in him, than he was that the camera was on him, had an index finger lodged up his nose, seemingly to the third knuckle, where it remained until it was out of camera range.
I think the ending of Taxi Driver is less offensive...maybe because it is reminiscent of old-time hockey. ;)
Background music
The song you're hearing is from one of my recent music videos. I'm thinking of playing some background music here on an ongoing basis. If you like this song, it's The Beatles' Free as a Bird (currently third one down) found here: www.videosbyvinny.blogspot.com
Q & A's from around the web
Where does salami come from?
Same place steak and chops come from--an animal. A salami is a four-legged mammal about 5 feet tall that is found only in western Europe. It is the only mammal known to man that is completely hairless. --Vinny
Yes the native salami is endangered now, so cunning italians decided to gather up all the necks and arseholes left over after they had slaughtered a pig, and assorted other bits and pieces and brew it up into a mess that could quite possibly kill you if made the wrong way, forced it into a bit of guts twisted the ends and hung it out to dry, and called it salami. --Mick
Italians aren't that cunning...looks like they missed an arsehole. --Vinny
Same place steak and chops come from--an animal. A salami is a four-legged mammal about 5 feet tall that is found only in western Europe. It is the only mammal known to man that is completely hairless. --Vinny
Yes the native salami is endangered now, so cunning italians decided to gather up all the necks and arseholes left over after they had slaughtered a pig, and assorted other bits and pieces and brew it up into a mess that could quite possibly kill you if made the wrong way, forced it into a bit of guts twisted the ends and hung it out to dry, and called it salami. --Mick
Italians aren't that cunning...looks like they missed an arsehole. --Vinny
Monday, 20 October 2008
In praise of older...jockeys
Yesterday, a field of eight oldsters lined up for the fourth race at the Santa Anita thoroughbred racing track. However, in a twist, it was the jockeys that were older nags this time. Eight retired racing legends faced off in a bona fide race that saw Canadian Sandy Hawley mark his 6,450th victory.
Hawley, 59, won the Jockey Living Legends race on a horse named Tribal Chief, and was followed to the finish line by seven other retired Hall of Famers. They were, in order, Jerry Bailey, 45; Gary Stevens, 45; Pat Day, 55; Julie Krone, 45; Jacinto Vasquez, 64; Chris McCarron, 53, and Angel Cordero Jr., 65.
Hawley went gate to wire but Bailey had a chance to run him down in the stretch and had this to say after the race: "I got there, and then I had to try and remember what you do in that situation."
Meanwhile, Hawley was humble as he quipped "The horse dragged me to the wire. I got to the stretch, he was still running fine, so I had to tap him a couple of times with the whip to look like I was doing something."
Cordero was equal to the task, remarking "It's OK. I'm used to losing to these guys."
The crowd of 12,000 had a great time.
Hawley, 59, won the Jockey Living Legends race on a horse named Tribal Chief, and was followed to the finish line by seven other retired Hall of Famers. They were, in order, Jerry Bailey, 45; Gary Stevens, 45; Pat Day, 55; Julie Krone, 45; Jacinto Vasquez, 64; Chris McCarron, 53, and Angel Cordero Jr., 65.
Hawley went gate to wire but Bailey had a chance to run him down in the stretch and had this to say after the race: "I got there, and then I had to try and remember what you do in that situation."
Meanwhile, Hawley was humble as he quipped "The horse dragged me to the wire. I got to the stretch, he was still running fine, so I had to tap him a couple of times with the whip to look like I was doing something."
Cordero was equal to the task, remarking "It's OK. I'm used to losing to these guys."
The crowd of 12,000 had a great time.
Sunday, 19 October 2008
I thought he was kidding
Someone posted about tent cities in the United States. I have not seen anything in the news about it, so I thought the guy was joking. Just to be sure, I did a search and found this:
The chickens have come home to roost.
The chickens have come home to roost.
Q & A's from around the web
Is it wrong to walk around your own home naked?
Only if it's an old age home. (shudder)
Only if it's an old age home. (shudder)
Friday, 17 October 2008
Thursday, 16 October 2008
Rogers update #5
Another week and another non-e-mail from Rogers. I think I've been patient enough. I just sent the following to Rogers in regard to their last e-mail that said the issue was handed off to another department and I was assured someone would contact me:
Tell them not to bother. I have my answer. Not only does Rogers have no scruples, stooping to tricking people into viewing their ads, its customer service stinks. I'll be passing along the message to as many people as I can all over the web, on message boards, through e-mail, blogs, etc. As soon as I find a suitable replacement, I'll also be terminating my Rogers account.
Have a good day, sir.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
At the polling station
Yesterday, I went to exercise my right to cast a wasted vote in our (Canadian) federal election. As I handed over my driver's licence as identification, I quipped to the lady there "Are there any photo Id.'s that don't look horrible?" She laughed, examined my photo for a couple of seconds and then said "This one isn't bad at all." She handed it back to me along with the voting slip.
I went to the private "booth" to mark my "X", but the whole time, something wasn't sitting right with me. And then it struck me. She woman felt that the hideous creature staring out from my driver's licence is a good representation of me. Now, I'd be the first one to admit that I've never been movie star material, but it never occurred to me that I might make the short list to play Quasimodo.
I'd post the offensive image, but I don't want to risk anyone rendering their keyboard inoperable.
I went to the private "booth" to mark my "X", but the whole time, something wasn't sitting right with me. And then it struck me. She woman felt that the hideous creature staring out from my driver's licence is a good representation of me. Now, I'd be the first one to admit that I've never been movie star material, but it never occurred to me that I might make the short list to play Quasimodo.
I'd post the offensive image, but I don't want to risk anyone rendering their keyboard inoperable.
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
Best way to remove back hair?
Marry a gorilla. It won't get rid of your hair but when you walk along the beach holding her hand, no one will notice your hairy back.Monday, 13 October 2008
It's Canadian Thanksgiving
In looking at the screenshot I took at the weather network, it made me think that perhaps Montana belongs to Canada.
Oh, wait. It may be more appropriate for it to belong to whomever owns Alaska. It's much too cold to belong to us.
That's right--I have nothing better to do on Thanksgiving than to compare temperatures around the continent. What a turkey, I am. Actually, the turkey is in the oven. I just finished baking a butter pecan cake (they made me a deal I couldn't refuse at .99 for the mix and it was the best flavour remaining), and I'm waiting for it to cool so I can slather it with vanilla frosting.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadians! And to all my American friend, I hope you don't get snowed in, today.
Oh, wait. It may be more appropriate for it to belong to whomever owns Alaska. It's much too cold to belong to us.
That's right--I have nothing better to do on Thanksgiving than to compare temperatures around the continent. What a turkey, I am. Actually, the turkey is in the oven. I just finished baking a butter pecan cake (they made me a deal I couldn't refuse at .99 for the mix and it was the best flavour remaining), and I'm waiting for it to cool so I can slather it with vanilla frosting.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadians! And to all my American friend, I hope you don't get snowed in, today.
Sunday, 12 October 2008
Way to grow hair on bald skin found
It's hair-raising news for millions of men - scientists have revealed they have found a way to grow hair on bald skin.
The breakthrough came after researchers discovered a gene in stem cells which can re-grow hair follicles on mice. The new stem cells also have all the same identities as an original hair follicle. The remarkable work overturns previous scientific views about the identity of follicle stem cells. The researchers discovered that mice hair follicles contain a chemical compound called Lgr5 which was previously thought to only live in the intestine and colon. By transplanting the protein Lgr5 on to the backs of dead eight-week-old mice, the scientists found they could re-grow hair.
Furthermore, the 'new' hair follicle would stay healthy and continue to grow for as long as 14 months.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But, it was not all good news, today. In Washington, bureaucrats are scrambling to try and figure out a solution to what is viewed as an inevitable problem arising from the experiments and expected to become evident in the coming weeks and months: What to do about the (heretofore) majestic symbol of the United States, the bald eagle.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Classic cars from my childhood
I was in my early teens when my older brother came home with one of these beauties one day:
Somehow, it seemed even more beautiful back then to a wide-eyed boy who religiously read his brother's hand-me-down Car & Driver magazines. To me, the car represented awesome power, even if its looks didn't convey it. Only the hood work over the engine gave a hint of what was underneath. That and the diminutive emblem on the front fenders indicating 396 CID.
For the uninitiated, it was a 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 (SS signifying "Super Sport", not Nazi). The 396 cubic inch displacement engine packed as much as 375 horsepower. This was the age of muscle cars and this was certainly one of them.
Here's a gallery of pix of that model immaculately restored/maintained: Click here.
As for my brother's car, I will never forget the first time my brother took me for a ride in this machine. We zipped along down Keele Street weaving in and out of traffic, laying rubber in any gear. He entered the circular ramp to the eastbound 401, and as we neared the end of the ramp, I was unprepared for the fury that was about to be unleashed.
Bro switched gears, stomped on the accelerator, and I was driven (literally) back against my seat with a G-force I had never experienced before in my young life, or for that matter, ever since. The front of the car seemed to lift up making me feel like we were headed skyward. There I sat glued for what seemed like an eternity, and feeling like I couldn't breathe as we screamed down the highway, the engine roaring like an angry lion.
That car was a harbinger of things to come. In 1970, the mother of all muscle cars rolled out of Detroit: The Chevelle SS 454. This monster delivered an unbelievable 450 horsepower--more than any other stock car in that era.
While looking for pix, I came across some sale prices for the '67 Chevelle SS396, the highest being an incredible $87,000.
Next, I will review another car my brother actually rebuilt around the same time he had the Chevelle: a '57 Chevy
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Somehow, it seemed even more beautiful back then to a wide-eyed boy who religiously read his brother's hand-me-down Car & Driver magazines. To me, the car represented awesome power, even if its looks didn't convey it. Only the hood work over the engine gave a hint of what was underneath. That and the diminutive emblem on the front fenders indicating 396 CID.
For the uninitiated, it was a 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 (SS signifying "Super Sport", not Nazi). The 396 cubic inch displacement engine packed as much as 375 horsepower. This was the age of muscle cars and this was certainly one of them.
Here's a gallery of pix of that model immaculately restored/maintained: Click here.
As for my brother's car, I will never forget the first time my brother took me for a ride in this machine. We zipped along down Keele Street weaving in and out of traffic, laying rubber in any gear. He entered the circular ramp to the eastbound 401, and as we neared the end of the ramp, I was unprepared for the fury that was about to be unleashed.
Bro switched gears, stomped on the accelerator, and I was driven (literally) back against my seat with a G-force I had never experienced before in my young life, or for that matter, ever since. The front of the car seemed to lift up making me feel like we were headed skyward. There I sat glued for what seemed like an eternity, and feeling like I couldn't breathe as we screamed down the highway, the engine roaring like an angry lion.
That car was a harbinger of things to come. In 1970, the mother of all muscle cars rolled out of Detroit: The Chevelle SS 454. This monster delivered an unbelievable 450 horsepower--more than any other stock car in that era.
While looking for pix, I came across some sale prices for the '67 Chevelle SS396, the highest being an incredible $87,000.
Next, I will review another car my brother actually rebuilt around the same time he had the Chevelle: a '57 Chevy
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Rogers update #4
Still no word from Rogers regarding their devious ad (explained in this article). Time to rattle their chain once again...
I sent the following e-mail a little while ago:
If you have nothing concrete to report yet, please indicate so. On the other hand, if you think that ignoring a valued 30-year customer is in the best interests of your employer, I will be happy to convey that sentiment for you to your manager.
The gentleman responded in less than 10 minutes apologizing that the issue was handed off to another department, but that he will have them contact me.
Twiddling my thumbs...
I sent the following e-mail a little while ago:
If you have nothing concrete to report yet, please indicate so. On the other hand, if you think that ignoring a valued 30-year customer is in the best interests of your employer, I will be happy to convey that sentiment for you to your manager.
The gentleman responded in less than 10 minutes apologizing that the issue was handed off to another department, but that he will have them contact me.
Twiddling my thumbs...
Ethnic adventure
I was picking up groceries the other day and was thinking I'd like something other than the usual side dishes. At that very moment, I spotted a box of couscous. I had heard about it many times but had never had occasion to try it. It's a popular dish eaten in many parts of the world and I like just about everything, especially ethnic food, so I decided to give it a try.
I had already planned to have a stirfry as my main dish and I thought the Couscous would complement it, nicely. I should mention here that at the time, I had no idea what couscous was. I prepared both parts of my meal and was very happy that the couscous was so easy to make--just add butter and boiling water and when it's done, fluff with a fork. In no time, my meal was ready.
The couscous looked very appetizing with a light, airy texture. I took a mouthful of stirfry, chewed it for a bit and then threw a spoonful of the couscous into my mouth. It...wasn't that great. I repeated the process. Strangely, it hadn't improved since the first mouthful. Still, being the good, Christian boy I am, and having been taught as a youngster that it was a sin to throw away food, I soldiered on.
In between bites, I got some salt and added a bit to the couscous. Surely that will be the difference between what I was tasting and what will be an exquisite, gastronic delight. It improved slightly, but not much. I refused to be beaten, thinking surely this dish must be better than what my taste buds are telling me. In desperation, I tried adding a little sugar. Now, before you think me crazy, let me inform you that I have a real sweet tooth and that...er...stuff did look sort of like cereal. It...didn't help at all. Grudgingly, I finished my meal.
The experience left me wondering why anyone would pay to eat the stuff, especially those in desert areas, where the dish is a staple, when they could eat sand for free. Although I know that throwing the rest of the box away is a sin, the risk is worth it.
I had already planned to have a stirfry as my main dish and I thought the Couscous would complement it, nicely. I should mention here that at the time, I had no idea what couscous was. I prepared both parts of my meal and was very happy that the couscous was so easy to make--just add butter and boiling water and when it's done, fluff with a fork. In no time, my meal was ready.
The couscous looked very appetizing with a light, airy texture. I took a mouthful of stirfry, chewed it for a bit and then threw a spoonful of the couscous into my mouth. It...wasn't that great. I repeated the process. Strangely, it hadn't improved since the first mouthful. Still, being the good, Christian boy I am, and having been taught as a youngster that it was a sin to throw away food, I soldiered on.
In between bites, I got some salt and added a bit to the couscous. Surely that will be the difference between what I was tasting and what will be an exquisite, gastronic delight. It improved slightly, but not much. I refused to be beaten, thinking surely this dish must be better than what my taste buds are telling me. In desperation, I tried adding a little sugar. Now, before you think me crazy, let me inform you that I have a real sweet tooth and that...er...stuff did look sort of like cereal. It...didn't help at all. Grudgingly, I finished my meal.
The experience left me wondering why anyone would pay to eat the stuff, especially those in desert areas, where the dish is a staple, when they could eat sand for free. Although I know that throwing the rest of the box away is a sin, the risk is worth it.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Watch out for grab and run artists
A seagull in Marinette , Wisconson has developed the habit of stealing Doritos from a neighbourhood convenience store. The seagull waits until the Manager isn't looking, and then walks into the store and grabs a snack-size bag of cheese Doritos. Once outside, the bag gets ripped open and shared by other birds.
The seagull's shoplifting started weeks earlier when he first swooped into the store in and helped himself to a bag of Doritos. Since then, he's become a regular. He always takes the same type of chips.
The Manager thinks it's great because people are coming to watch the feathered thief make the daily grab and run, and it's been good for business, especially since customers have begun paying for the seagull's stolen bags of Doritos because they think it's so funny. However, the Manager did say, "This is Wisconsin, and if that seagull starts to grab a 6-pack of beer to go along with the Doritos, I may have to put a stop to it."
The seagull's shoplifting started weeks earlier when he first swooped into the store in and helped himself to a bag of Doritos. Since then, he's become a regular. He always takes the same type of chips.
The Manager thinks it's great because people are coming to watch the feathered thief make the daily grab and run, and it's been good for business, especially since customers have begun paying for the seagull's stolen bags of Doritos because they think it's so funny. However, the Manager did say, "This is Wisconsin, and if that seagull starts to grab a 6-pack of beer to go along with the Doritos, I may have to put a stop to it."
Monday, 6 October 2008
Q & A's from around the web
When/how did you know that your marriage/relationship was over?
When I woke up after falling asleep watching TV, to find two big, burly guys carrying me, still in my chair, to the curb on garbage day. I'm kidding. It wasn't garbage day.
When I woke up after falling asleep watching TV, to find two big, burly guys carrying me, still in my chair, to the curb on garbage day. I'm kidding. It wasn't garbage day.
Sunday, 5 October 2008
The results are in
I entered the CAA (Canadian Auto Club) contest for the greenest driver with this entry:
It seems it wasn't good enough for even an honourable mention. The first place prize of an all-expense paid eco-trip for two to Costa Rica was awarded to (surprise, surprise) a couple who have been CAA members for 28 years. Okaaaaaay. I'm just kidding--I'm not the least bit upset. I wish the lucky winners a great trip and all the best.
Hi. I’m Vinny’s car. Yeah, that’s me in the photo--the one who’s red with anger. Back in the good, old days, Vinny and I were pretty racy, going between traffic lights like jack rabbits. Boy, that was fun. Now, he's so boring, driving all sensible-like. Says it saves gas and wear and tear on the brakes. Where’s the fun in that?
He used to take me out a lot more, too. Now, he works from home and we live across the street from a mall and I have to practically beg him to go anywhere. Even going out for drinks (of oil) has gone from every 3 months or so, to only twice a year, even though it’s less than 4,000 kilometres in between.
Vinny’s been very cold toward me lately, considering he hardly ever turns on my air conditioner. Last week, I replaced my droopy tires with nice, firm, new ones and he didn’t even notice! Sure, he’s getting on in years, but my odometer is barely over 100,000 Kms. One of these days, Vinny will come outside and he might just see a “For Sale” sign on this gal.
It seems it wasn't good enough for even an honourable mention. The first place prize of an all-expense paid eco-trip for two to Costa Rica was awarded to (surprise, surprise) a couple who have been CAA members for 28 years. Okaaaaaay. I'm just kidding--I'm not the least bit upset. I wish the lucky winners a great trip and all the best.
Saturday, 4 October 2008
Caught in a web
I spotted what appeared to be a dead housefly on the floor beside my
dresser. As I bent down to have a look, I saw that it was caught in a
web with lines so thin, they were virtually invisible. Nearby, a very
tiny spider sat patiently. The fly struggled to free itself, but it was
in vain. After a few moments, the spider moved in. The fly was about
100 times the size of the spider. Nonetheless, he grappled with the
fly for a while and suddenly the fly was still.
Surprisingly, that minuscule arachnid managed to drag the fly away
behind the dresser. I stood up and tried to think what I should do. My
first inclination would be to move the dresser, and sweep up the web,
fly and spider, not necessarily in that order, and dump the mess in
the garbage can. That was about a week ago. In the meantime, I looked
in on my house guests several times by moving the dresser slightly,
and though it is too dark to see spider or web, the fly remains.
I feel powerless to make a difference even to a dead fly, a
microscopic spider and the web and dust that is collecting back there.
I don't want to kill the spider or remove his source of food, even
though I cannot tell if he is even still there. The crazy thing is
that this inconvenience to me, a clean freak, weighs on me. For another
reason. It seems this spider has more influence in the universe than
I do. After all, he took down a monster 100 times his size and I can't
seem to take down a speck which is him that is one billionth the size
of me.
A thought suddenly strikes me: How much "humanitarian" currency am I earning for this?
How much did I earn when I made a sizable donation to the Southeast
Asia Tsunami relief fund when it was I who was in need of funds? How
much did I earn when I gave to The hospital For Sick Children in
Toronto when it was I who was in need of care? How much did I earn
when I walked 30 miles for The United Way charity while I now walk alone? Like my
existence in this world, the answers don't make a lick of difference.
The truth is, whatever good I have done, and admittedly, it wasn't
enough, I would do it and more, again, regardless of the outcomes. I
just reserve the right to bitch about it. For you see, it is I who is caught in a web.
dresser. As I bent down to have a look, I saw that it was caught in a
web with lines so thin, they were virtually invisible. Nearby, a very
tiny spider sat patiently. The fly struggled to free itself, but it was
in vain. After a few moments, the spider moved in. The fly was about
100 times the size of the spider. Nonetheless, he grappled with the
fly for a while and suddenly the fly was still.
Surprisingly, that minuscule arachnid managed to drag the fly away
behind the dresser. I stood up and tried to think what I should do. My
first inclination would be to move the dresser, and sweep up the web,
fly and spider, not necessarily in that order, and dump the mess in
the garbage can. That was about a week ago. In the meantime, I looked
in on my house guests several times by moving the dresser slightly,
and though it is too dark to see spider or web, the fly remains.
I feel powerless to make a difference even to a dead fly, a
microscopic spider and the web and dust that is collecting back there.
I don't want to kill the spider or remove his source of food, even
though I cannot tell if he is even still there. The crazy thing is
that this inconvenience to me, a clean freak, weighs on me. For another
reason. It seems this spider has more influence in the universe than
I do. After all, he took down a monster 100 times his size and I can't
seem to take down a speck which is him that is one billionth the size
of me.
A thought suddenly strikes me: How much "humanitarian" currency am I earning for this?
How much did I earn when I made a sizable donation to the Southeast
Asia Tsunami relief fund when it was I who was in need of funds? How
much did I earn when I gave to The hospital For Sick Children in
Toronto when it was I who was in need of care? How much did I earn
when I walked 30 miles for The United Way charity while I now walk alone? Like my
existence in this world, the answers don't make a lick of difference.
The truth is, whatever good I have done, and admittedly, it wasn't
enough, I would do it and more, again, regardless of the outcomes. I
just reserve the right to bitch about it. For you see, it is I who is caught in a web.
Friday, 3 October 2008
Memories of Sam
We had always thought our cat Sam to be stupid. I'm not sure how he rated compared to other felines since we never had another cat and have never known any others intimately. He just seemed pretty dumb. However, he did have flashes of brilliance. Many years ago, we found that if we hung a rubber band over a (toggle type) light switch, he would jump up and pull it down, and in the process, the light turned off. It was impressive to our guests when we demonstrated this trick as I shouted "Turn off the light, Sam", especially if they didn't notice the rubber band I had placed there ahead of time.
Another thing he did, was close the cupboard door by pushing it with his head after I had poured his food and then put the food bag back in the cupboard. He would only do this if I poured the food into his dish on the counter. If I tried the operation on the floor, a tank couldn't keep him from getting at the food in the dish. He just started doing it all by himself. Occasionally, he didn't do it but if I moved the cupboard door, he'd get the idea and push it closed with his head.
Not long before I had to put him down for health reasons (his not mine), I taught him something else. He used to try and get at his food dish so fast as I was placing it on the floor that sometimes he caused me to spill water onto the floor. To avoid this, I would push down on his back, forcing him to lay down about 18 inches from his "dining area" and I shouted "Stay!". He would usually stay there until I placed the dish down and gave him the order and motioned to "Go!". It sounds sick and cruel, but sometimes, just for fun, I made him stay there for 20 seconds or longer, repeating "Stay!" whenever he started to make a move for the dish. :)
In the end, I got much too used to him. He was such a long-time and close friend that it was like he was human. Once, while on the computer (me, not him), there came a noise from another room. He was laying behind me on the bed where he usually was when I was at the keyboard. I turned to look at him and without thinking, I said "Go and see what that noise is".
More evidence of my lunacy: I put water on the burner and came back to my PC while it was heating up. I suddenly realized that I had left it too long and as I made a dash for the kitchen, I noticed him laying in the hall. As I stepped over him, I angrily said "Why didn't you remind me I had water on the burner?".
RIP, Sam.
Thursday, 2 October 2008
On extreme capitalism
I just came across something I posted to a message board a couple of years ago and I like it so much I'm posting it here:
America was founded by people tired of being "oppressed" by others. A nation founded on the principle of freedom. However, with freedom comes competition. And with competition comes great winners and great losers. Those who find ways to win at all costs often destroy weaker competitors, even if only by circumstance. And the strong who acquire power and status are able to circumvent the few rules/laws meant to protect the weak by hiring fast-talking, Harvard-educated, charismatic executives and lawyers. The weak, in desperation, turn to crime or end up on the streets or both. In a dog eat dog world, this polarization is inevitable.
The ultimate example of freedom is nature. And we can learn a lot from observing it. Animals are free to do whatever they please, so long as they are bigger, stronger, have sharper teeth--whatever gives them an advantage over other animals. And what do we see in nature? We see packs of vicious animals preying on the weak, old, young and infirm. And then, even in the winning group, the stronger ones eat first and the most. Pecking order dictates that those most in need, often end up dying.
I contend that while freedom to succeed is a good strategy to promote discovery and invention and therefore a better life for all overall, it does not hold that more freedom means even more success. I believe there is a point that when crossed, it puts people closer to the realm of animal behaviour than we should want. That point is when profit is put ahead of human life.
When pollution is allowed on a scale that causes human illness or death, when water or food supplies are insufficiently tested that threatens human health, when competition is so fierce that the stress causes great numbers to either take meds for life, give up or be unable to find adequate employment, when crime is seen as a viable alternative to the rat race, when landlords have the right to maintain unlivable conditions, when corporations produce defective products that can harm or kill people and do so because lawsuits may be cheaper to settle than the cost of a recall, that point has been crossed. We are behaving like animals.
America was founded by people tired of being "oppressed" by others. A nation founded on the principle of freedom. However, with freedom comes competition. And with competition comes great winners and great losers. Those who find ways to win at all costs often destroy weaker competitors, even if only by circumstance. And the strong who acquire power and status are able to circumvent the few rules/laws meant to protect the weak by hiring fast-talking, Harvard-educated, charismatic executives and lawyers. The weak, in desperation, turn to crime or end up on the streets or both. In a dog eat dog world, this polarization is inevitable.
The ultimate example of freedom is nature. And we can learn a lot from observing it. Animals are free to do whatever they please, so long as they are bigger, stronger, have sharper teeth--whatever gives them an advantage over other animals. And what do we see in nature? We see packs of vicious animals preying on the weak, old, young and infirm. And then, even in the winning group, the stronger ones eat first and the most. Pecking order dictates that those most in need, often end up dying.
I contend that while freedom to succeed is a good strategy to promote discovery and invention and therefore a better life for all overall, it does not hold that more freedom means even more success. I believe there is a point that when crossed, it puts people closer to the realm of animal behaviour than we should want. That point is when profit is put ahead of human life.
When pollution is allowed on a scale that causes human illness or death, when water or food supplies are insufficiently tested that threatens human health, when competition is so fierce that the stress causes great numbers to either take meds for life, give up or be unable to find adequate employment, when crime is seen as a viable alternative to the rat race, when landlords have the right to maintain unlivable conditions, when corporations produce defective products that can harm or kill people and do so because lawsuits may be cheaper to settle than the cost of a recall, that point has been crossed. We are behaving like animals.
Q & A's from around the web
can you get pregnant while having sex in a hot tub?
It depends. Were your eggs hard-boiled at the time? Were his?
It depends. Were your eggs hard-boiled at the time? Were his?
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
Classic cars from my childhood
I was inspired by a preview of a new movie called "Sex Drive" to produce articles on some of the cars I grew up with and loved--no...still love, as they live on not only in my memories, but also preserved in stills and video. Indeed, many of them still run and are the stuff car shows are made of.
Enough with the nostalgia. The car that caught my eye in a commercial for the movie was a Pontiac GTO Judge. It's name was derived from a bit in Rowan and Martin's Laugh-in TV Show where Sammy Davis Jr. was a freaked out judge and the catch phrase was "Here come da judge...here come da judge...". Goldie Hawn got her start on that show as a bikini-wearing, body-painted, lovable, dumb blonde. Oops. I can't seem to keep from dredging up the past. But it's so damn interesting.
The GTO Judge made its debut in 1969, when I was 15 (this would explain why I remember Goldie so vividly). It came stock with a 350-horse power, 400 CID (cubic inch displacement) engine or with an optional 455. I think it is a near perfect combination of pretty looks and an undertone of powerful-looking. What do you think?
The year the GTO Judge was introduced (1969), it was surpassed in sales by the Chevrolet Chevelle SS396, a car my older brother owned and which I'll be featuring in my next article on this topic.
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Another car music video.
More music videos.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
Enough with the nostalgia. The car that caught my eye in a commercial for the movie was a Pontiac GTO Judge. It's name was derived from a bit in Rowan and Martin's Laugh-in TV Show where Sammy Davis Jr. was a freaked out judge and the catch phrase was "Here come da judge...here come da judge...". Goldie Hawn got her start on that show as a bikini-wearing, body-painted, lovable, dumb blonde. Oops. I can't seem to keep from dredging up the past. But it's so damn interesting.
The GTO Judge made its debut in 1969, when I was 15 (this would explain why I remember Goldie so vividly). It came stock with a 350-horse power, 400 CID (cubic inch displacement) engine or with an optional 455. I think it is a near perfect combination of pretty looks and an undertone of powerful-looking. What do you think?
The year the GTO Judge was introduced (1969), it was surpassed in sales by the Chevrolet Chevelle SS396, a car my older brother owned and which I'll be featuring in my next article on this topic.
To see all posts in this series click here.
Last Kiss music video.
Another car music video.
More music videos.
Click here to go to most recent posts.
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