Kids just wanna have fun

It's official. I have entered my second childhood.

This past Friday, despite the humidex being 90+ F. (33 C.), I decided to go for a walk. Here in the Great White North, the mercury this summer has been so high and the humidity even higher, that any day where it only feels like 90 is a good day to go out. I haven't been getting out nearly as much as I like--it's been feeling as hot as 112 F., making it impossible to do anything more than walk across the street to buy groceries. And even then, you're all sweaty by the time you get back.

Anyway, I hit the road and was planning to do a route that takes only about 15 minutes, but the sun was intoxicating and I felt so good, I decided to extend my outing to the 30-35 minute route. This new route takes me toward, but still some distance away from my local Dairy Queen outlet.

This very thought entered my mind (the Dairy Queen), along with a chocolate sundae, one of my favourite treats and which I haven't enjoyed in several years, and although I was starting to get hot, or perhaps because of it, I decided to yet again, extend my walk. This meant that my total walk would be about 50-55 minutes--a very long walk in those conditions.

The fact I haven't made any mention of my second childhood in three subsequent paragraphs is probably testament to it. I've forgotten how to properly write. I'm almost there--I promise.

When I reached the intersection where the cool, delightful treats are located, I spotted a couple of young girls in front of the place, one of them inside a 6'6" paper mache or plastic ice cream cone, trying to drum up business. I have news for them. If the devil were visiting this town that day, he wouldn't need to be encouraged by a fake ice cream cone to get a cool refreshment. I crossed the street and went up to "the cone"--oh, I could tell she was a young girl by the shape and size of her legs. I peered into the slot that was the cone's "mouth" and said "I know you're an ice cream cone and all, but aren't you hot in there?"

Her response was "Awww...gimme a hug". So, like a little kid seeing a Disney character for the first time, I gave her a hug...to the apparent approval of the people on the patio based on the oohs and aahs, not to mention a passing motorist. I felt a bit silly and a bit childish, but it actually felt very good. I smiled at the barely visible face, bid her "Take care", and made my way to the shop.

One step into the place and I was hit by this beautiful rush of very cool air. Ironically, I hadn't noticed until that moment just how hot I was feeling. I seemed to sweat more rather than less as the queue moved along.

I glanced up at the menu and found the sundae prices. A "small", what I always have gotten at Dairy Queen, and always chocolate (I'm a creature of habit), was priced at $2.49...plus tax, of course. In this neck of the woods, that would be 13% or 32 cents, bringing the total not far from $3. It seemed excessive...until it arrived. Then, it seemed ridiculous. To put this in persepctive, a couple of weeks ago, I purchased two litres (almost half a gallon) of name-brand ice cream at the grocery store for $3.99. I could literally consume that sundae with one large bite assuming I wanted to risk the resultant brain freeze killing me.

I exited and almost without thinking, I wandered over toward Miss Ice-cream-cone and asked her if she'd like a little taste of my sundae. She said "Oh, sure!". I scooped up some chocolate syrup and some ice cream and carefully slipped it through her "mouth" and then toward her lips. She said, "Oh, that's so good! Thank-you very much! Give me a hug". And so, this "kid" put his arms around this giant cone for a second time and on this occasion, I hear a slight commotion over my shoulder. I let go of the giant treat while saying "You're very welcome" and "Bye", and glanced to my left to see an Asian man fidgeting with a camera and who had obviously just snapped a picture of the kooky, old man feeding ice cream to the ice cream cone. Those Asians will photograph anything!

As I embarked on my way home, glancing back, I saw that the man was asking to have his picture taken with Miss Cone. A few moments later and as I was 50 yards or so from the Dairy Queen, I heard shouting from behind me. I turned to see the two girls calling at me and waving good-bye. I'll tell you what--it's not at all bad being a kid...again.



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Celebrities' secret identities

Today, I was watching a WPT (World Poker Tour) event on TV and they showed a clip of one of those glamour girls they have at such events and I almost fell out of my chair. To give you a better idea of how startled I was, I wasn't even in a chair at the time! She was a dead ringer for another well-known celebrity.

I jumped to my computer (okay, I walked over really quickly--I didn't want to fall again) to find out who she was. It didn't take long, but few of the images I was looking at resembled her very much and certainly not the celeb she struck me as a perfect match to. Except for this one small image. First, let me first show you one of her more flattering poses that no doubt got her the gig with the WPT.

Here is the lovely Sabina Gadecki:




Does she remind you of anyone? Think for a few moments? Yes? No? It doesn't really matter--you'd be wrong.

Okay, I'll let you in on it. Don't you think she looks exactly like Bill Maher? No, there was no crash of my computer and all my files got mixed up. Bill Maher...couldn't she be his daughter? Yes, this Bill Maher...






Look at her. Look at him. Aren't the identical?

By now, you must be thinking I lost my mind. Let's try it this way--I'll put them side by side and then you can more easily judge if there's any resemblance at all. I'm sure you'll see it, then.


Here they are:



Just like I said--dead ringer, right? No? Are you sure? What about these photos of the same two people?





Is this Bill Maher's long, lost love child? Is it Bill Maher in drag?


To see other "celebrities' secret identities" that I've discovered, click here.



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Dressage competition

Three weeks prior to this quarter horse competition, Stacy's dad had passed away. She dedicated this performance to him as a tribute to "teaching me to keep trying new things".

Notice that she used no bridle, no reins, no saddle and no stirrups. It is nothing short of remarkable how she managed to stay on the horse, let alone how she elicited precision control from her steed. It's no wonder the championship was hers.

Oh, and let's not forget--a great, big congratulations to Wizard's Baby Doll!





Did I mention that this performance brought tears to my eyes?...in a very manly kind of way, of course.


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One of my fave TV ads

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Is politness dead?

If you've ever heard someone say that Canadians are polite (or even if you haven't), consider the following:

The other day, I stopped for gas. After I paid inside, I opened the door to exit, and right at that moment, I spotted a woman approaching the entrance from the right, so I held the door open for her and gestured for her to enter. At that same moment, another young lady arrived from the left. The lady on the right gestured to the girl on the left to enter. Ms. Left said "Thank-you", Ms. Right said "You're welcome", and as Ms. Left entered, she thanked me and I said "You're very welcome". Then the original woman stepped inside and we repeated the polite exchange. Just as I was about to finally exit, a guy had come to the door. Again, I stood there holding the door, but I guess he had seen me holding the door for the two before him and he said "Thanks--you go ahead". I exited through the door and said "Thanks". He said "You're welcome".

I won't say this scenario can't or doesn't happen elsewhere, but I imagine there's often the odd person who spoils the whole thing by either not holding the door or not saying "Thank-you" or "You're welcome". Anyway, the experience had me smiling for a while, and proud of my community and even my country. Am I too easily impressed?


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