Zona

The outhouse of aristocrats.

We stopped for some drinks and when asked where the washroom was, the lady pointed out back. "It's an outhouse. Welcome to the toolies".

I can't remember the last time I heard the word "toolies". I told my
wife that if one of my prankster friends of was with me, both
seats would be occupied in this picture. Oh well.

And there's NO WAY my wife would have taken a pic of me on one of the seats.

She's just not like that at all.

Shaz asked if the picture would be pants down. Oh yeah it would. I wouldn't wimp out on that.

it's 'cause I'm old.
you're not old. when he was 50, you're dad was old, but you're not old.
I feel old.
you feel outta shape is what you feel. you need to exercise.
and eat right?
and eat right.
I wanna be famous.
can't help you there pal.
I want chicks all around me.
you'd just get bored with'em after awhile.
you think?
I think.
I like the idea of chicks who smile, treat you right, and then go away.
they're called hookers.
you make it sound bad.
okay, it's good. four bills an hour good.
four bills?
four bills.
maybe I could be a guy hooker.
doubt it champ.
why not?
trust me. you don't want anything to do with any broad who would pay YOU four bills an hour.
touche'.
yep.

I was driving home from Edmonton with my wife when two punks decided to play games and block our car in for a few miles going at slow speed on highway 10 near Surrey. I called the RCMP on the cell phone but they were unable to respond. The two cars soon pulled off into a convenience store and we were on our way home free of the harassment.

When we got home I told my wife what I was thinking and now I tell you.

If the car in front of me had stopped and the driver would have gotten out I would have put the car I was driving into reverse and slammed into the car behind me. That would have given me the room to then put the car in drive and run over the guy who I would have considered a threat to us.

My wife stayed silent for some time.

When I see a friend of mine in the RCMP I'll have her see what became of the car in front. I gave them the license and make of the car. I know that in my home town the kid would have arrived home and wondered why a cop car was parked across the street from his house.

Saturday afternoon and I sit here on the sofa

knowing I go back to work tomorrow
remembering submarine sandwiches at kresgie's in El Con mall
remembering eating hotdogs in a booth while my dad sat at the bar and gave bets on dog races to the bookie
remembering the quiet before the evening going out storm
remembering walking into a closed restaurant to set up the bar upstairs
remembering everything being closed in Oruro, Bolivia
listening to my grandkids scream at each other over a helium filled balloon
remembering cruising the mall as a teen with friends
remembering sitting on the sofa at home being just as bored as I am now
clicking back and forth on this computer but knowing all my blog and face book friends have better things to do on a Saturday
feeling that feeling that Saturday is a different feel from Sunday

This job I have took away my weekends 20 years ago. They wonder why we're not normal sometimes. It's because we grew up having Saturday cartoons and dates and Sunday morning breakfast and maybe church and a football game. Now we have work and people telling us what to do. People telling us to act professional yet excluding themselves from the requirement.

Saturday afternoon and I sit here on the sofa

blaming them.

In July when I have another two weeks off, I am going back to Alberta. This time by myself. The barren fields I found on this trip will be like green carpets of wheat and corn.

That means I'll be in Vancouver for my 50th birthday.

On being a grampa, note to self

Refrain from opening the box of twinkies you're craving in order to allow your daughter to feed the little ones things that's good for them. Things that they will quickly ignore upon the sound of opening plastic baggies that allow an exchange of air wafting twinkie aroma.

The quickest space in time measured in the universe is the time it takes for an almost immeasurable amount of air to escape from a sealed twinkie bag and the time it takes for either of my grandkids to smell the twinkie.

So here I am awake at 3:45AM and it feels alright

I dreamt I was at the academy awards and I was nominated for screen play but didn't win. The director of our film won as well as the child star. It was a casual affair with the men dressed in polo shirts and after I was talking to Robert De Niro as he was folding chairs that had been used.

I got up and reached for the iPod determined to listen to a tune I was craving. I turned it on and it was already on The Dave Matthews Band and when I pushed shuffle it played the exact song I was looking for. Lie In Our Graves. It's on repeat now.

I turned the rental car in yesterday with 4000 more kilometers on it than when I got it. Then I popped into the office and grabbed my mail. I went in and out a door that brought me in contact with as few people as possible. Why ruin the end of my vacation before I need to?

Say baby, how about a hay in the roll?

I wish I'da had a place like this when I was their age. Of course it's the sign of five bands who are struggling and scraping for success but to me, as an old man with experience, it's living.

I tell my son and other young people. NOW is the time for you to experiment, to take those chances. The day is coming where those windows of opportunity close.

It's the people who can look in the mirror the day after that and smile because they gave it a shot.

I am home from the prairies. After about a 13 hour drive we pulled into the driveway at about 2AM

I already want to go back to a place we passed called Three Valley Gap, BC. Beautiful place with lots to do. Maybe in a couple of weeks.

I'm kicking myself for not sticking my face in one of the other characters. Let's see who can guess which.

You shouldn't have to ask now.

Let a smile be your umbrella and you just might end up with a mouthful of rain

Keira Anne asks where all the gentlemen are and I say that we're still around but it aint easy.

Some years ago when I was much younger I was driving a delivery truck around Tucson and I see what looks like a purse in the street. I pull off the road first chance I get and walk back to the purse laying on the busy road. Sure enough, it's a purse and it has everything inside. Wallet, checkbook, credit cards, make-up, well, like I said, everything.

I've made my last delivery so I go to a nearby convenience store and call information. Using the lady's name an address I get her number. I give her a call. She doesn't sound relieved, she sounds stunned. So I tell her where I am and that I'll be sitting on the bumper of my truck which is emblazoned with the name of the company I work for. I'm not 5 miles down a country dirt road behind an abandoned house, I'm at a convenience store on a busy city street.

I wait.

She shows up with her grown up daughter which I totally understand given this day and age.

They get out and the looks on their faces tell me that they suspect me as having obtained the purse through other means than how I actually did.

No big deal.

She then proceeds to take the purse and go through it taking inventory to make sure everything is there. I tell her where I found it and that she must have left it on the roof of the car for whatever reason.

These women are not the happy kinda women you'd expect if you can imagine what a pain in the ass losing all your I.D. is.

The lady pulls $5 from the wallet and hands it out to me and says thank you.

"That's okay" says I, and I decline her offer.

Now I LOVE women. They're my preferred gender of the species. I love doing things for'em. I get out of my booth at work and push luggage carts for'em so they only have to push the baby stroller and not both. When they look incredible, I tell'em. Most react like I would hope they do and glow. I've gotten many many "you just made my day" responses. (we're talking total strangers here)

BUT

Yes, there's always a BUT

I've been "kneed in the nuts" my share of the time. Maybe it's because you girls have dealt with your fair share of losers so I can't blame you that much.

So remember what I tell many people at work when they ask about the mood we happen to be in whether good or bad.

Sometimes it depends on the last person we dealt with to determine what YOU get when we have our interaction.