Firsts

Upon closer examination, isn't life really a series of firsts?

The forming years...your first step, first day at school, first time riding a bike.

Your coming of age...your first date, first time driving a car, first time having sex (with someone else).

I have of course driven a car but have not ridden a motorcycle. I did ride on the back of one driven by a male college classmate of mine. High speed and a late spring snow storm made the two hour trip a special experience. I clutched him from behind in a most un-manly fashion. I hope that I didn't leave scars (either physical or psychological). The motorcycle fiasco was both a first and a last for me. Though one day I still hope to attend the Friday the 13th bike rally that occurs in Port Dover, Ontario. Every Friday the 13th, the population of that quiet, Lake Erie town of 6400 rises by tens of thousands.

The firsts continue in the adult years. The job, the first marriage (I say first because some people treat marriage as sport that should be indulged in with semi-regularity like mud wrestling or bowling) and the birth of the first child.

I experienced another first on Friday. I had booked the day off work as a technician was coming over to wire up the house with FibreOp that is now the new rage. V and I drove to the office of 'the competition' to return their cable box. The run around that we received from them only reinforced the notion that we had made the right decision in switching companies. Anyway...after that stop, V wanted to stop at a public park where she knew that a co-worker was getting married. This woman has only been with the them for three weeks so none of the staff were invited to the wedding. As we walked past the park the bride recognized V and waved her over and invited us to witness the ceremony.

I have driven past that park many times before and have never noticed the stand of pine trees in the north-west corner...past the public swimming pool and just east of the ball diamond. The trees formed a tight oval and the group of 30 or so family and other witnesses stood on top of the small, grassy mound within the stand of trees.

The wedding was the first that I have attended in my six years here in Newfoundland. The day was sunny and warm and the two women held hands as the vows were read and the marriage was made official and binding. The wording struck us as similar to our own wedding. Simple vows and one reading by a guest and the ceremony was done in about 15 minutes. The wedding was obviously a low-budget affair, yet its simplicity was charming and easily one of the nicest weddings that I've ever attended (and the first I attended that I was NOT invited to).

When I got up yesterday morning I didn't think that I would be 'crashing' my first gay wedding.

I should try that again some time. I wonder what tomorrow has in store...

Can-Am Holidays

It's that special time of year.

On The Rock we finally get warm weather AND a long week end. In fact, Canada Day passed three days ago and we had a short get-away at my parent's house 'up the shore' (thanks, Laurita, for the correct local terminology...).

Today is now the fourth of July and our one-time adversaries, our American  cousins, celebrate their Independence. It is also the 200th anniversary of the start of the War of 1812 (which ran until 1815) when our cousins dropped by, unannounced, for a visit. I don't profess to know anything about that war so I won't go any further on the topic, embarrassing myself on my lack of Canadian history. Honestly, I don't recall it being taught in school. Then again, school was decades a long time ago and maybe I just forgot. Or maybe I was sick that day.

The Canadian government commissioned the minting of a new coin commemorating the War of 1812. It is a handsome looking 'toonie' with the image (below) of the British frigate HMS Shannon on one side and the aged Queen on the other.

Speaking of war ships...the boy is ready to wage his own battle with his own bateau (Har! Get it?...bateau?) When we arrived at my parents house we discovered a row boat sitting in their driveway. It was a well-used craft belonging to the former home owner who figured that since Sean was a sea cadet, and a future sailor in the Royal Canadian Navy, he might appreciate the boat.

Now begins the task of stripping the hull of flaking paint, old caulking and sundry dried out sea vegetation and freshening it up with a layer of fibreglass and paint. Sean's Papa Davidson, a painter of 50 years, has already begun the tedious task of researching  how to start a good fire fibreglass the boat and the fine art of applying marine paint. I had suggested to the boy that he name the vessel after a girl in his life. We decided against that as the boat would obviously have to change name on a regular basis...

I have included photos below. Be sure to click on them to enlarge.

SO...to my American friends...have a great day! I hope that you booked a couple of extra days to extend the holiday into the week end. Have fun with those fireworks, but keep them over there.

And no hard feelings about that war business, eh?



At 13'-9" it's not the HMS Shannon, but one can be sure that it can still do some damage




"Y'think that this 1" crack is noticeable?"



Boy and boat are nearly christened by the mysterious wee dog

Pirate Girls and Adventure on the High Seas

I think that my lack of posting anything at all may stem from the fact that this blog was set up to talk about scandalous gossip writing projects. The fact that I have written virtually nothing for months, I think, has weighed heavy on me and I've developed this idea that if I'm not writing then I shouldn't be blogging either. I mean, there's only so many times that people want to visit here and listen to me rant about hockey riots or my back issues...or the fact that I'm too lazy busy to write anything (or can't think of interesting stuff to write about).

I was driving somewhere the weekend and a car in front of me had a bumper sticker that made me smile...

The sticker, of course got me thinking about the incomparable Jodi MacArthur and her "Wicked Woman's Booty" episodes published at Pulp Metal Magazine. Then that led me to thinking about other writer's whose blogs I used to follow but have recently been ignoring. My apologies to all for not being a very good on-line friend. Not even a very good casual acquaintance...

I visited my own blog today and was surprised to find that the visitor count is nearing 30,000. Wow, I guess people have been dropping by in my absense (thanks mum)...I image they visit less to see if I've written anything new and more to see how long I'd go in silence. Perhaps the visit to see if I would let the blog go fallow for a whole season, or maybe to see if I'd give up the entire crop for good. I can't promise anything in the way of productivity. I may post again in two days or perhaps it will be two weeks or even another two months will slip by before I let my thoughts coalesce and the words fly from my finger tips (or something like that). I was also surprised to discover that since I last visited here there have been visitors from five more countries...Gambia, Jersey, Botswana, Uganda and El Salvador. It's nice to see that my lack of writing productivity has even garnered interest in the African countries. I'm not sure, though, why Jersey is showing up all of a sudden. I mean, my on-line buddy Anthony Venutolo is a Jersey boy and has dropped by here many times before...I thought his presence would have showed up on that site meter eons ago...and WHEN did Jersey get it's own flag...probably had something to do with that Tony Soprano fella...

We had a fine Father's Day here on The Rock yesterday. We finally had a 'warmish' day and the Finch-Davidson-Stansbury families again gathered for the boiling of the lobsters. I won't bore you with yet another tale about a crustacean feeding frenzy or scandalous stories about the horrific dining habits of certain family members. The curious can see the pics from my 2010 post...or perhaps the year before...

The day ended for us by driving Sean down to the harbour downtown where he jumped on a fishing boat and was whisked off to sea...I kid you not. We're very proud of the boy as he has had a dream of working on a boat and set out to accomplish that goal. I mean, yeah, it's just for a couple of days. But he got acquainted with a fisherman (the father of another sea cadet) and set out to bug the shit out of him  convince him of his deserving to be there by loading up crab pots on another boat (for free, I might add and for helping off load crab from his boat two weekends running. This is sort of a try-out for the boy as his real goal is to get to go out for turbot fishing for 9 or 10 days about 150 miles off our coast in the Atlantic (I suppose I mean ON TOP OF the Atlantic...)

Below are a couple of photos from last night. The first is Sean waiting at the dock for Cap'n Rodney to arrive. I won't name the boat (to protect the innocent) but if you get a magnifying glass you might be able to make out the name. V took the second photo from Signal Hill looking down into the Narrows where the fishing boat was passing through headed out into the Atlantic.

"Yes Cap'n...you wants TWO sugars in your coffee?"

The Sweet and the Sad

The boy's Easter break has finally come to an end. He spent three days visiting my parents up the shore. Apparently, two of those days were spent helping guys on a fishing boat load crab pots and rope. I was very pleased to hear that Sean put in many hard hours work and (finally) got a taste of the working world.

'V' spent Friday night with the girls from work at the boss' house learning how to make tasty treats called 'cake pops'. One apparently takes a cake, squishes it up with icing, forms it into a roundish shape, dips the result into coloured icing, decorates then...voila! I've included three pics from the evening. Apologies if they seem a bit grainy as she took them on her Playbook so she could email them to me. Apparently, the more alcohol consumed the greater the creativity.

Aliens, Frogs and Dogs (oh my!)

Sheep...in various stages of undress



Dogs and a sheep and a pig

 As you can see, you're pretty much free to create what you're imagination can whip up (keep it clean, though, if it's for a kid's party). I bet these bad boys would be really popular at party for five year olds. I'd highly recommend that you hand them out as they are leaving your house as you gotta know that many of those pretty decorations are going to end up on your carpet, or sofa, or wherever. I say pass them out with the goodie bags at the end of the party so they can shed their decorations while sitting in their little car seats in the back of their mother's Prius or Beemer or whathaveyou...

I took this past Friday off so we could run a couple of errands and to take Sean to the Canadian Forces recruiting office downtown. We figured it was about time for him to see somebody down there regarding career options in the military. We also figured that it wouldn't hurt to have somebody other than ourselves stress to him the importance of his sciences and math in school towards a getting a job (that he wants) in the navy. Hopefully some of that will sink in over the final two years of school.

Friday was also a sad day for our family. We finally made a tough decision that we had been putting off for some time. Our greyhound 'Jet' has been having pain in his neck since last November. We took him to the vet in February and he was sedated and X-rayed in March. No definitive cause could be given for his pain, but the vet suggested that Jet could be shipped off to the veterinary college in PEI for an MRI. Even with a diagnosis, there would be no guarantee that a surgery would be successful.



Jet (aka Sharp Shooter) in 2008

Jet was on pain killers for the past few weeks, but even they were doing little for him. We finally decided on Friday to schedule an appointment with the vet to take him in for 'the final visit'. Needless to say, the day ended on a sad note but we are convinced we did the right thing for him.

We had the rescue greyhound originally known as Sharp Shooter for four years. He was aloof by nature, much like your regular household cat. His normal day consisted of mooching during meal preperation and sleeping for about 16 hours a day. Jet did not fetch or cuddle on the sofa and was not a great conversationalist but we'll miss him just the same. Below he was captured in a rare moment of glee..

"Scratch my tummy and I'll bite you!"

The Big One

Pretty catchy title, eh?

It is referring to the fact that it's my parent's wedding anniversary today. In fact it's their 50th wedding anniversary. Fay and Alan were married in Paisley, Scotland on this date in 1962 and celebrating 'The Big One' today in St. John's with family and friends. The wedding was a small affair and there aren't many around any more who were in attendance that day. It will be my 50th birthday later this year, so if my math is correct I may have been there in some fashion...

We would have liked to have bought them something golden as an anniversary gift but with the price of gold these days...I think that we'll settle on taking them somewhere nice for supper tonight. I sent a recent photo of my parents (shown below) to the local television station, NTV, and they showed it with all of the other wrinkly, toothless folks celebrating anniversaries of 50+ or birthdays of 90+ (personally, I dream of making it to 70...90 would take a miracle of modern science).



Note: photo cropped to delete bulging bellies and knobby knees


The weather has played an evil trick on us today with the return of high winds and heavy snow, but I doubt it will stop them from making the 1 1/2 drive into town.

My mother is pretty nosy and I'm sure that she pops by and visits the blog once in a while to see how my rash is progressing, so I'll send out a shout to her.

"Happy anniversary mum and dad"...I'd wish you a happy 50 more but I think we both know THAT'S not gonna happen!

Pretty sentimental stuff, eh?

*Sniffs, wipes away a tear*

...a Rash...Where?

photo by V

This rash business is highly contagious overrated and not nearly as dramatic as the title of this post implies.

It was about three weeks ago that a rash gradually infiltrated my face, just below my right eye. In the grand scheme of things, there are worse places a guy could get a rash...if you know what I mean. I'm now flashing back to when the boy was wee. You know, back in the parasitic stage. For those of you with kids...do you remember what the baby's butt looked like if you left their diaper on a bit too long or if you didn't use enough of that special cream? Yeah, my face kinda looks like that. And that bruising under my eye? I could say that V has taken to smacking me about...but really, I've got bags the size of V's purse like that under my eyes all the time.

Back to the rash...(yes, an entire blog post about a skin condition). I read at Wikipedia that some causes of rashes are allergies, anxiety, acne, menstruation (doubtful, in my case) and secondary syphilis (um...no comment).

My old Scottish granny probably would have exclaimed, "Ach, it's just the evil in ye coming oot!"


photo courtesy of thesun.co.uk



Perhaps granny was right, but I shall continue to fend off the rash with some outdated stuff from the medicine cabinet. An expensive ointment, meant for a rash I had on my leg three years ago. I always make sure that the bathroom light is on, though, while I'm rooting about in the medicine cabinet. I fear that one day I will mistakenly grab that other ointment, in the similar sized tube, called Prepara...

In the event this rash is a permanent fixture on my face (much like my crow's feet or my cheesy grin) I have a plan 'B'.      I just have to figure out where to order one of these bad boys online (the mask, I mean)...I wonder if it comes with a vat of black hair dye too?

High Drama in Canada and Killer Advertising

Hibernation continues for me...however, I was scanning the news online yesterday when I stumbled upon a couple of stories that were just begging to be commented on. Even if it meant leaving the warm, musty confines of the man-cave to enter the frigid air of the real world for a couple of hours.

Headline #1...Dick Cheney cancels Toronto trip, says Canada is too Dangerous

I had to read the headline a second time...Canada...dangerous...compared to WHAT, exactly?

I mean, a person could comment on the fact that Mr. Cheney (accidentally) shot a buddy while quail hunting in Texas back in 2006, or throw out statistics all day regarding the differences in gun control and violence between major Canadian and US cities see Wikipedia take on this here , but it would just muddy what the story is about. That particular article, by the way, is by Canada's National Post. It refers to the riot of last September (surprisingly this riot had nothing to do with hockey) when Cheney appeared in Vancouver for a talk at a private club. The story mentions that he was confined to the hotel for several hours while riot police dispersed the crowd outside. Shocking.
This article, by the Globe and Mail, does a better job of giving the background regarding WHY there was a protest in the first place. Organizers believe that Cheney should have been arrested and tried for war crimes regarding his stance on the treatment of prisons (ie. water boarding) at Guantanamo Bay.

Despite which side of the fence your political leaning rest on this, methinks the only danger afoot would be for the protesters...when the riot police arrived on horseback, resplendent in their cool hats and red tunics, and clubbed the protesters senseless (Monty Python could have done a cool skit about THAT). Or perhaps scalding syrup or Timmies coffee would be splashed down upon the crowd from the boiling cauldrons on the roof of the hotel...or even a remote chance of the protesters being skewered by rampant hockey players who, quite frankly, have nothing else to do during the daytime because their games are played in the evening.

The bottom line is...I wasn't going to attend his speech in Toronto anyway. Even if THEY paid ME money to attend (besides, it's a three hour flight from here and the cost of flying off of this island is deadly).

Headline #2...Tide Detergent One of Most Shoplifted Items

You know what...you don't have to put much thought into this one. Just click on the link below to go to the short news story about the high theft rate of Tide detergent (note that the story is out of Washington, so I assume that it's problematic only in the US and not Canada---we apparently don't wash our clothes here, and perhaps that's the REAL reason that Mr. Cheney does not want to visit us).

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/video/world-22186928/tide-detergent-one-of-most-shoplifted-items-28602575.html

My first thought was how on earth does one smuggle a jug of Tide out of a store? I mean, there's the obvious scenario of a woman sticking it up under her sweater and pretending to be pregnant. But...where can a guy stow the thing  *shudders*.

Anyway...a big Thumbs Up to the folks at Tide for this successful (and free) ad campaign.

Is it Spring Yet?

A couple of weeks ago, several North American groundhogs tried to tunnel up from their lairs to let us know if spring was near. Don't get me started ranting about a society that relies on weather forecasts from rodents.

We on The Rock have experienced high winds, torrential rainfall and generally warmer weather the past few days. Enough of the piled-up snow melted, allowing the boy to scour the back garden in search of dog sausages (armed with a long-handled shovel, several garbage bags and a military grade hazmat suit).

The warm weather has also roasted rousted me from my hibernation. A little bird informed me that my number is up...actually, me letter is up. I am the featured studmuffin friend today as part of Cathy Webster's Letter From a Friend series. You can read my submitted letter to Cathy and her humourous lead-in commenting on my writing, my chapeau du jour and my general 'hotness.' All That, and more, may be found at her blog Life on the Muskoka River.

Cathy did say some sweet things about me. And she made up a bunch of stuff too. So when my overall embarrassment subsides I will crawl back into my burrow and wrap myself up in my 'tablecloth' until spring. Environment Canada has gotten the forecasts so messed up recently that I've taken to consulting a Ouija board prior to leaving the house. Also, Naked Pete (shown below) said that Spring will arrive promptly on April 1...can a blind, hairless rat be wrong?



Just noticed that Pete's got teats...what's up with THAT?