Weird Dreams Part 2

Just a couple of weird dreams I've had lately. I don't know if dreams are some way your mind is trying to tell you something important, or just the way the mind flushes out old garbage it's not using anymore. If there's any meaning in this stuff, I'll be surprised.

One night I dreamt I received a bundle of official papers. The papers came from the United States, and claimed that I had purchased, through a web-site, a used Russian hover-craft. I remember looking through the papers thinking "did I really do this? Was I drunk or something?".

The papers themselves were kind of weird. One page featured a group of bikini models pointing out important facts such as "it's better to tow it home" and "this hover-craft can be broken down into three smaller hover-crafts with snow-scoops!". Apparently I was able to pay by Visa, MasterCard or "Saskatchewan dollars". I'll keep checking my mailbox over the next couple of days.

I don't know if another dream I experienced had meaning, but it certainly had sweaters. I remember being in an open room, I think it was a food court in a shopping mall. There were people in chairs all watching a speaker, and we were all wearing those funky 80's-style sweaters that Bill Cosby used to wear. I couldn't hear what the speaker was saying, but I was really upset over the content. I thought they were lying to the listeners. In the dream I (very uncharacteristically) stood up and shouted "no, don't listen to him", and started to run around the shopping mall grabbing people saying inspirational stuff like "you only have one life, this is your shot!" Apparently we only have one life, but many sweaters, as I always seemed to be dressed in a different "Dr Huxtable" look. Man, I miss those sweaters.

Whatever you think about stuff like this, it's never boring.

Thank you veterans!!

It's Remembrance Day again. I've just watched the national ceremony from the Cenotaph in Ottawa, and again I found myself shedding tears for the thousands of strangers who lived through horrible experiences so I could live my convenient life. A few things really stood out for me this year.

-In London, the Canadian Embassy (Canada House) in Trafalgar Square projected the names of every Canadian soldier who died in the First World War, in a continuing cycle for eight days, leading up to Remembrance Day. The same thing was timed for sites in Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver. The tribute was designed by a Canadian actor. Well done-it looked like a beautiful and moving tribute.

-This year for the first time, an Aboriginal veteran offered a tribute in Ojibway. I didn't understand the words, but his tone and expression said it all, and the Ojibway sounded like a mysterious song.

-I used to question the value of ceremony, but it struck me how quickly and thoroughly animosity melts away when people join together for a common purpose; in this case, to honour veterans. People who normally resent each other for their language, race and beliefs immediately forget all that and honour each other the way they should all year round. I wonder how else we can keep reminding ourselves of how great this felt?

-The Chaplain who led the prayers began by saying "I ask you to pray to God in the way you understand Him, as I pray through my savior Jesus Christ". I thought that was a wonderfully inclusive statement, "...in the way you understand Him". Nothing about "I'm right and you're wrong", just an accceptance that we all have our way of understanding the "big mystery".

-It's apparently becoming a tradition, after the offical wreaths are laid at the Cenotaph in Ottawa, for visitors to leave their poppies (small poppy pins Canadians wear as a tribute, offered by Veterans groups, for people reading this from outside Canada) on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and at the grave marker on display at the National War Museum. No-one told the public to do this, they just started doing it spontaneously. I think that's the greatest tribute of all-nothing orchestrated, just a little tribute from the heart. It reminds me of the Jewish tradition of leaving a small stone at a grave side to mark that someone had come to visit. Beautiful stuff.

-So there you go, it's 11:17am as I'm finishing this up; the tributes are ending with parades and celebrations. I don't know how many people actually read this stuff I write, but today I'm glad I had the opportunity to write it down. Thanks for everything, veterans.

Random Thoughts and Observations

Random Observation 1: work weirdness

Here's an example of the weirdness of my workplace, which is an international survey company of, I'm guessing, middling-to-no-respect in the industry. Recently one of our clients had a meeting with the Project Manager who handles their account and the Field Supervisors who actually run the day-to-day gathering of opinions. The client, who seemed to have no idea as to how their own survey was being run, listened to some of our interviewers call their customers to take the survey. This is a survey where, for several years, we have been instructed to only call people during business hours, to avoid bothering people in the evenings, during the dinner hour, etc. When one person asked to be called in the evening, the interviewer, correctly, explained they are not allowed to do that, and asked for a more convenient time during the day.

The client asked "why didn't the interviewer accept the evening call-back?". the Project Manager asked the Field Supervisors "yeah, why DIDN'T the interviewer arrange an evening call-back?" The Field Supervisors explained that, for several years, evening callbacks were contrary to instructions, that that the computerized settings had a variable that simply wouldn't allow an evening appointment to be set. The Project Manager, puffing themselves up in from of the client said "well, why dont you just change the variable?" The Field Supervisors asked "Can we do that now?"

The Project Manager answered: "No".

Corporate management at it's finest, no?

Random observation 2: Sports broadcasters

I was watching a football game the other day, when a colour commentator tried to describe the speed of one of the players. He said (I kid you not)" He's like a cannon, shot out of a gun" This is almost as good as my all-time favorite sports broadcaster comments which went: "He runs with his feet and catches with his hands!"

Random Observation # 3: What if....?

What if the Borg (from Star Trek) dressed like Earth, Wind and Fire? Wouldn't they be more accepted throughout the universe? If you heard the EW&F Borg command "Let's Groove....resistance is futile" woudl you resist? I think not. The Borg just needed a make-over.

I was watching TV when a commercial for Rub-A535 came on. I weasn't very alert at that moment, so I thought the name of the product was "Rub-Ass" creame. Personally, I would think this name would do better in the marketplace, and inspire MUCH more creative commercials.

In a conversation with AGF (awesome girl-friend) last week, she was commenting on something being "not very good". Trying to sound profound, I offered "well, not very good is better than bad!" Profundity is something that comes easily to some people, but obviously not me! :)

Mr. Furley (Don Knotts) from Three's Company was the best dresser on TV, bar none.

Birrrrd-MAN!!!!

Today I'd like to talk about a cartoon I frequently watched, and was somewhat embarassed by, as a kid...that Hanna Barbera superhero-BIRDMAN! (not Charlie Parker!)

Birdman was a winged hero created by the same animation studio that brought the world The Flintstones, Scooby-Doo, etc. Our hero (the aforementioned "Birdman") apparently lived and worked in a pretty cool secret base on the top of a mountain. Birdman never seemed to cook, clean or do laundry in his little hideaway, he never even seemed to change his clothes....all he did was sit and watch a screen mounted on the wall for the latest emergency message. These came at the start of every episode, when he would recieve a call from his boss, a suave joker wearing any eyepatch and smoking a pipe, by name of "Falcon 7" (it was never established what happened to Falcons 1 through 6, though I imagine the crime fighting business can be pretty perilous at times). Falcon 7 would grimly intone that one of Birdman's old nemeses had returned (a bit of perfunctory back-story), and Birdman needed to stop him. Always eager to help if he could, Birdman would turn to his assistant, a giant purple eagle named "Avenger". "Come Avenger", Birdman would command, "..."Aawk", Avenger would reply, and they'd be off. The roof of the mountain would open up, and Birdman and Avenger would soar up into the sky.

This is where I usually became a little embarassed as a kid. Birdman would always shout his name in an over-wrought baritone..."Biiiiiiiiird...MAN!" he would shout, usually several times an episode. I don't know why, but it always kind of bothered me, and I remember clearly dashing to the TV and turning the sound down whenever it looked like Birdman was about to announce himself. There must be some psychological root to dealing with a hero who occasionally embarasses you-probably the same one we deal with when coming to grips with our parents.

Anyway, Birdman's power came from the power of the sun, which was pretty cool..UNLESS..he entered some kind of shadowy domain...a cave, a basement, etc. wherein his powers would fade. Unfortunately for Birdman, ALL of his nemeses lived in basements, caves, grottos, etc. So there would be Birdman, shouting his name and swooping in to kick ass, when suddenly (in the same baritone) he would announce "my powers.....WEAKENING!" Uh oh...looks like it's lights out (literally) for Birdman. And it would have been too, if not for his purple pal, Avenger! "Bird" (if I can call him that) would have just enough juice to push a little button on the collar around his neck, and communicate with Avenger, who had a stylish matching collar (and maybe cufflinks, I don't know). "Avenger", "Bird" would gasp..."Operation RESCUE". Avenger, invariably would know what to do (as Birdman would get captured with greater regularity than Exlax). Freeing Birdman, the duo would fly into the sky to get "close to the sun" (Icarus, where are you?) to recharge his powers. With one more shout of his name (and me sliding towards the TV to turn down the sound), Birdman would hurtle towards his always-startled foe. Birdman had some pretty neat "solar" weapons, including a "solar sheild" he could generate, and a "solar ray". I still vividly remember one villian shouting "Don't use your solar ray...YOU MIGHT HIT ME!!" Anyway, Birdman would save the day, and once more, shout his own name to the heavens (sound down of course).

The Birdman show had a second feature with three alien superheros of the future called the Galaxy Trio. The Trio had some pretty hilarious powers-"Gravity Girl" could reverse and control the effects of gravity (was she Estee Lauder in disguise?), "Meteor Man" could make any part of his body grow to gigantic proportions at will (remember, this was a pre-peuberty show for me, so I though his giant fists made perfect sense). Finally there was "Vapor Man", could could create any kind of caustic vapor known to man. Considering the amount of time we spent amusing each other with our own caustic vapors, he was probably the closest adolescent boys could come to actually being a super hero.

A lot of times people say they watch their favorite childhood shows again after gowing up, and complain about being disappointed. I'm happy to say I'm not disappointed with Birdman. Sure it's cheezy and repetitive, but doggone it, it's cool. And I'm no longer embarassed when my hero shouts out his name.

BIIIIIIIRD-MAN!

Country living made "easy"

I just bought a copy of a book called "Country Wisdom Almanac", from some place called "Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers". It's one of these collections of relatively folksy bits of information that most people probably used to know, but have since been relegated to book sections for the urban folk-wannabees of the world. These are the people who currently enjoy the comforts of modern urban civilization while pondering wistfully as to when they might plow up their back yard to plant rows of corn, or make a chicken coop out of their garage. I have to admit, I am increasingly finding myself drifting towards that camp. Whether I eventually give up the deliciously-convenient life of the urban taxpayer due to personal choice (selling up and buying a bit of land with it's own artesian well and space for a herd of attack goats) or whether it's forced upon me (meteor crases into the earth, ending industrial civilization), I am increasingly attracted to the "son of the sod" scene.

Now of course, I'm not kidding myself. I'm still an urban-comfort junkie because it's not easy tilling soil, weeding a garden or scooping out chicken droppings. The plus side, as I envision it, is in knowing how to do stuff for yourself, with locally-available ingredients. Here's an example:

Know the difference between a "poultice" and a "plaster"? A "poultice" is a "warm moist mass of powdered or crushed fresh herbs" (according to the above-mentioned C.W. Almanac). These herbs (witch hazel, herbal tea, or maybe even something called "herbal tincture") are applied directly to the skin to relieve inflammation, draw out infections, relieve muscle spasms, and for all we know improve your love life do your taxes for you. "Plasters" are like a poultice, except the herbal goop is between two thin pieces of cloth. Now I can say, with confidence "Looks like you need a poultice applied to that. Ayup!"

How about building your own stone wall? The average city "dude" would probably say you just start heaping rocks on top of each other until the contractor comes to do a proper job. Not the nouveau-sodbuster though! There are actually different kinds of stones, ranging in texture from coarse, soft, crumbly and dense (much like the people many of us work with every day). Advise from the C.W. Almanac includes "If a stone looks doubtful for laying, pass it up" (great advice for all of us) and when lifting stones, "Grab the stone in what would be a normal position, and drop your rear another 2 feet. When lifting, hug the stone close". I can just see all those poor dumb city-folk, trying to lift their stones withuot hugging, and possibly caressing them, in the proper way.

I actually bought this book as a substitute for the book I originally wanted to buy. That one was out-of stock, but my store has ordered extra copies, and I shall soon add the knowledge of that book to what I already have. This other book (I think it was called "101 Things Your Grandparetnts Knew" or something like that) also includes information on how to make your own shoes, and how to dig a well. Rural bliss cannot be far behind. Poultice anyone?

Singing in the Shower

People often comment on how much better their voices sound in the shower, but how many people acknowledge how much they improve on the lyrics of thier songs? Here's my most recent version of the old Trooper song "The Boys in the Bright White Sportscar" (remember, you need to hear the sound of splashing water and smell Finesse moisturing shampoo to get the full effect)

Here I am,
The boy in the bight white sports car,
Waving my arms in the air (wave arms here)
Who do I think I am?
And where did I get that car?

There I go,
The boy in the bright white sports car,
Honking at all the girls,
I'm jack-of all-trades-Stan,
Or maybe a garbage man

Naaa na na na, Naaa na na na NAAAAAAA

There I go,
I am really rollin'
I'd better call a cop,
Say my car is probably stolen
STOLEN!!!! (shout this)

Alternate lyric:

Say I love eating stollen...STOLLEN!!! (a sweet German pastry)

There I go,
A boy in a bright white sports car
Who do I think I am?
Where did I park the CAAAAR???

Personally, I think shower lyrics make a heck of a lot more sense than the originals. If I ever remember any others, I'll record them here.

Jive Talk Update-G.I. Jive!

Ok, it's been a while since I had some entries from the HepCats Jive Talk dictionary. Here's a tribute to the amazing people who serve in the armed forces...of course I'm talking about G.I.Jive!!

Armored Cow- canned milk

Bean Gun-rolling kitchen

Cross Bar Hotel- guard house

Dog Show- a foot inspection

Ether- a radio telephone

Fly the Wet Beam- flying along a river

General's Car- a wheelbarrow

Higher than a Georgia Pine- unduly excitied

Ink- coffee

Jeeter- a lieutenant

Knuckle Buster- a crescent wrench

Let Her Eat- drive ar full speed

Maggie's Drawers- a red flag used on a rifle range to inidcate a miss

North Dakota Rice- hot cereal

Old Issue- an old soldier

Prop Wash= an expression of disbelief

Quartermaster Gait- a step longer than the regulation thirty-inch pace

Red Leg-artilleryman

Six and 20 Tootsie- any bit of a young and enticing femininity who is responsible for a Flying Cadet returning late from a weekend leave

Tar Bucket- full dress hat

Uncle Sam's Party- payday

Valley Forge- temporary tent city in cold weather

Wing-heavy- inebriated

You're Gigged- you've been reported for violating a rule or ordinace

As always, if anyone wanders across this site and would like to see more of these posted, just leave a note! If this is your first visit, look back at my old posts for more Jive Talk!