Saturday, August 29, 2015

The Wasp Caper


The Wasp Caper

 

The wasps around our place seem to have a new strategy. I don't know if it's a redistribution of workload or a new way of attackin' more people at the same time. Whatever their logic, they seem to be distributin' their attention, one wasp at a time to each apartment in our complex. Well I suppose it makes sense if you're a swarm of wasps wantin' to cover a whole apartment population. I kill one wasp one day an' the next , there's another one shows up. I know it's not the one I offed yesterday 'cause I deliberately left it lyin on the balcony floor. Well I don't mind killin' them miserable critters, cause they're never up to no good anyways.

Well the Missus is afraid o' them bugs. I mean she's TERRIFIED! It's got so she don't wanna step out on the balcony no more 'cause every time she does, one o' them wasps comes by to check out her hair spray or somethin'. So I went down to the store an' picked up a couple o' flyswatters to hang out there in case a wasp showed up again. A big oven mitt could'a accomplished the same thing but ya wanna have the right equipment to do the job. That gave the Missus the confidence to go out again. The epic battle that followed between the Missus an' the miserable wasp should'a been recorded for posterity. She was "swash bucklin'" like Errol Flynn up against Black Beard in a two fisted (or rather, two swatter) sword fight, swingin' them mercilessly at the little wasp who was bobbin' an' weavin' like Mohamed Ali. It was truly a battle for the ages. When I stepped out I squished the little bugger against the screen an' that was the end of it an' him.

Well I don't want to gloss over the damage these nasty little creatures can do. Holy crackers! They can kill you if you're allergic to their venom. People with severe allergic reactions use one o' them "EpiPen" auto injectors to treat exposure to the venom. The drill is, you inject the EpiPen adrenaline immediately you are stung, and call 911. That's how serious it is. So it's no funny business, that's for sure.

But seriousness aside, it was worth commentin' on the Missus swash bucklin' adventure with a one ounce wasp. It becomes obvious that there is a good reason to have a man around the house (if for no other reason than to kill wasps), or at least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.

 

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Action and Reaction


Action and Reaction

 

Who'da ever thought we'd create a conundrum by reducing our world population? Well, that's exactly what we done (at least some of us). I'm referrin' to the Chinese Government's enactment of the "one child" policy. A few years back they enacted the law in a move to reduce their outta control population growth. So it turns out that families were only allowed to have one child. I don't know what the penalties were for havin' more than one, but I can imagine they were pretty stiff. I done a little bit o' readin' that I didn't get much out of except that they been manipulatin' exemptions and penalties dependin' on population density. In other words, they're tryin' to fix somethin' they broke in the first place.

Well now, with a large population of single child families whose parents are elderly by this time, often frail and perhaps suffering from dementia, there is a whole other problem rearin' its head. The parents are gettin' lost and/or goin' missin'. Who's gonna go find 'em when the (only) child is at work? Not only that, but when somebody is wanderin' around aimlessly and with dementia to boot, where you gonna put 'em if ya do find 'em?

That's what you get when you start messin' around with the family dynamic. Eve found that out when she discovered carnal knowledge. It was not only how to make babies, but to make enough o' them so there'd be somebody left to push yer wheelchair when ya couldn't walk nomore. It's a good job she did too cause her kids didn't get along neither an' one killed the other one. So you got to have extra for insurance.

Too bad the Chinese government didn't see that far ahead. But there's always somebody comes to the rescue though. In a particular city in the mountain region of China, they got a search an rescue team what goes lookin' fer people fallin' off mountains an' such. Since they're not all that busy, one o' them suggested they do search an' rescue of people with dementia inside the city. Surprisingly the idea was adopted an' the crew got busy findin' people an reunitin' them with their families. The operation is a huge success.

The Chinese was lucky enough to have somebody devise a plan "b" after the government screwed up plan "a" an' there wasn't no place else to go. But we ain't always that lucky. The laws of nature are laid down by a higher authority than any gawl danged government, or anythin' else humans put their minds to, and them laws is non-negotiable. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.

 

 

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Donald Dunce


Donald Dunce

 

So this is America. It's not so far off from what its reputation has come to be. It's a shame really. I mean somewhere in a population of some three hundred million plus, there must be some fine people. Well it may only be the republicans ruining America's reputation, but they make enough noise for all of America to be perceived as brash, self-important beings, superior to anyone who is not American. And at the head of the pack is old big mouth, Donald Dunce (as I call him) Trump. There is no better spokesperson for the world's perception of Americans than Donald Trump.

A number of years ago there was a sales convention in Winnipeg that lasted a few days, culminating in a dinner and reception on a Friday evening. The Missus, bein' in the fashion business in the downtown area at the time noticed a spike in sales on Thursday and Friday. Of course on Saturday, they were waiting for these fancy ladies to return the brand new dresses they'd bought the day before along with excuses about their reason for the return. Of course the store was wise to this trickery and were ready for the onslaught.

Well there was a woman who had come over from the U.S. to attend the particular event and, as anticipated, had bought a fancy outfit for it on Friday. Saturday she was back, demanding to return it for a full refund. Of course the outfit was all crumpled, and there was make up all over it. The Missus of course refused, citing the condition of the outfit. Holy Hanna! The tirade this woman poured out over my Missus would have prompted a punch in the mouth from anyone less professional.

The gist of it was that she (the customer) was after all, an AMERICAN, an' Americans are not used to that sort of treatment. She wanted to talk to the manager to straighten this out. Quite calmly the Missus said, "I am the manager." Well, that tore it -wide open. "I mean somebody above you!" the lady fumed. If memory serves me right, the Missus gave her the Montreal office telephone number and wished her a nice day, turning away to serve another customer.

It's a sad commentary that this is all we remember of a once powerful nation but the point I'm tryin' to make here is that we all have had such experiences with Americans, an' even if we have not, when somebody like Donald Dunce comes along with such self assured bravado, the world says; "THAT'S why we don't like Americans." At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Lumpy Ladies


Lumpy Ladies

The missus came outta the hair stylist's the other day with a marine haircut of the kind that Seven Minute Gus used to give (rest his army soul). She consoled herself with the fact that number one: she would never go back there again an' number two: it would eventually grow out, just in time for her to go travelin'.

Well that was the start of a whole lot of soul searchin' about womanly appearance. We're inundated daily on the TV about goin' on diets to lose weight an' have the perfect body, or buyin' this or that exercise equipment to produce the perfect body. An' now they got them clothes that'll mold yer lumpy gut into a slim, shapely body too. Well, that done it! The string of oratory comin' outta the Missus' mouth don't even rhyme with anythin' I could write down here.

They got them there blue jeans nowadays what slide on neat an' easy while at the same time tuckin' in yer sloppy gut an' saddle bags so's you look twenty pounds slimmer an' twenty years younger than you actually are. What'll they think up next? Kinda reminds me of an old joke about the bridegroom peeking through the bathroom transom window, watching in horror as his bride prepares herself for the conjugal bed. Well, I can't rightly quote the punch line but you old guys know what it is anyways.

The whole point of this tirade is to figure out what in blazes women are tryin' to prove, buyin' in to this kind o' nonsense. I mean, do they wanna look nice or do they wanna look like somebody else altogether? I don't know what side o' that question the answer is on, but I do know that when all that junk comes off, there's an entirely different person standin' there, an' that's a fact.

What a shock that must be - especially for the woman standin' in front of the mirror an' not recognizin' who she's lookin' at. Oh gawd! I'm too fat! (She cries a tear or two). Too fat for what? You mean too fat to be sixteen again? Well yeah, but you ain't been sixteen for forty - plus years for crimeny sakes.

The thing is that all this paintin' an' primpin' an' tuckin' in an' coverin' up comes to a screetchin' halt when the lady in question gets home from an outin' an' like a person on a mission, frantically removes all the stuff she had so meticulously applied and pulled on earlier until, (with a sigh of relief) she is back to what her partner knew her to be in the first place. Go figure. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Take a Long Walk off a Short Pier


Take a Long Walk Off a Short Pier

 

That's what some guy said to me on facebook after I made a comment about the Toronto Maple Leafs hornin' in on the Pan Am games to announce a new head coach. I think what he meant was that I should go drown myself. Of course, he didn't take into account the longstandin' fictional feud I've had with the Leafs since 1949. Maybe I should'a explained that they phoned Abby MacDonald an' Donny MacGregor an' Cec Hockstra, but we was from the wrong side o' the tracks so they didn't bother with us.

I gotta admit that for a minute there I was a bit annoyed at such an outburst. I mean, didn't he (or she) see what the Leafs were doin' grabbin' attention for theirselves over an' above the six thousand athletes who was havin' their moment o' glory? Well, I told it like I saw it, so there! They shoulda taken a lesson from the Blue Jays who at least had the class to wait til after the games closed to make their big announcement.

Well, what this all comes down to is not the situation at hand, but the blatant criticism of anybody with an opinion other than the one you hold. I would have remained disgruntled had I not remembered the Jesus boots we used to wear back in the sixties an' seventies to walk on water. I figured, 'Sure, why not?' Kinda puts shame to this sorta outburst, don't it?

It occurs to me that social media has brought out the worst in us all - me included. We have suddenly become judge and jury of those we don't agree with and each of us passes a different sentence upon the subject of our ire. Until now, we've just kept our big mouths shut about our opinions, but suddenly we have a soapbox to stand on an' let everybody know just exactly what we think without fear of consequence.  It occurs to me we might have a little forethought before we spout off thoughtless criticisms. They might come home to haunt us one day. The world is full of clich├ęs about him who is without sin castin' the first stone, or people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.