Holding Pattern

As I write this, I have been on hold for 33 minutes and counting with the customer service department of a major corporation.

If I don't get a human being to help me by the time I'm done writing, I will reveal the name of the company. I will tell you that they are a major oil company.

I have endured now, 36 minutes of an endless Musak loop of Elton John's Daniel. I wasn't fond of the song before, I am even less enamored with it now.

Why is it that so called "Customer Service" lines aren't anymore? Most of them have you go through an acrobatic charade of "Press 1 to be ignored, 2 to be sent back to 1, 3 for another useless menu, 4 to repeat this menu and 5 to be inexplicably disconnected.

43 minutes now...I'm almost ready to kick a puppy. 'Daniel my brother, do you still feel the same?' No, dammit! I feel neglected!

I went through a similarly frustrating experience a few years ago with my former cell provider. I had overpaid my final bill, and lo and behold, wanted a refund. They said that because I had paid via web banking, I would have to go through the bank. Didn't sound right to me, but who am I?

48 minutes...find me a rope!

So I did the phone calisthenics with the bank, explaining what the cell people told me. I was right the first time, the cell people had to issue the refund. The bank isn't a collection agency.

It took another 6 phone calls. On the second to last call, I again explained my problem (to 3 people over 45 minutes), that I had overpaid my bill and wanted a refund. If they couldn't issue me a refund, could they at least apply it to my cable bill? "Your cable bill? Sir, you've been talking to the cellular division, let me transfer you." NOOOOOOOOO000000ooooooo....

55 minutes...Elton John is OFF my playlist forever!

One service line I contacted recently at least had the decency to tell me up front that it was a 45 minute wait on hold. That, at least gave me an option. I hung up and called back the first thing the next day, only a 20 minute declared wait, which was actually 5.

62 minutes...the other people in my house are forming a lynch mob and the dog is whining.

I have had other, similar experiences, as I'm sure most of you have. Feel free to vent and share with Uncle DJ, and be sure that I won't put you on hold.

66 minutes on hold...Sunoco has horrible Customer Service. If you can call it that. I give up, you can keep your damn 'Performance Points'. They sure don't perform on the phone!

DJW

There, I feel better now.

A Pittance of Time....repost

Reposted by request.

November 11th.

Of course at the Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month I will be holding a salute for two minutes to honour the Fallen.

I hope to gather afterward with my Brothers at Arms to remember good times.

Singer/songwriter Terry Kelly wrote a powerful and poignant song a few years ago called A Pittance of Time. If you've never heard or seen it, please take five minutes out of your life to watch it. Just click on the blog title to see it.

I certainly can't add anything to his words and feelings except to repeat a sentiment I've heard recently...

...Some are born brothers, others earn it.

Lest We Forget.

DJW

Truly One of a Kind

There is a fine line between tenacious and stubborn, and he didn't seem to know where that was.

In 1982, Doctors told him he would be in a wheelchair within 5 years.

A few months ago, he would use a walker whenever he could, and try to get away with using no help at all when he thought no one was looking.

"I'm only going from the chair to the bed," he would say.

He was stubborn like that.

His tenacity showed almost daily.

Perhaps it was because he was resourceful by nature, growing up in a small town in 1930's Nova Scotia. During the Depression you had to make do with what you had on hand.

Perhaps it was due to his quiet genius that he was compelled to find ways to figure things out.

I've told the story of how he built a motorcycle out of spare parts and rode that from New Brunswick to Ontario, but that is only one example of his ingenuity and resourcefulness...

...In the early 1950's Pa and Ma had 4 small children and bought a large house in a small village. It had almost everything they needed, lots of bedrooms, large yard and a small garage. Everything but indoor plumbing. An artesian well at the end of the driveway provided water for all surrounding homes. Pa simply tapped into the wellhead and ran the pipe into the house. He converted one of the bedrooms into a bathroom, installed a septic bed and plumbed the entire house.

Eventually, he drilled a well to supply the house. With the clearest water being below the hard pan, this was difficult. Drilling was expensive, and money was always tight on mechanics wages.

I can remember two well events. One involved driving a pipe down to the rock, dropping a point into the pipe, and following that with a half a stick of TNT. The blast drove the point though the rock into the water. That well lasted several years. For the next well, he built a pile driver. The rig used 3 long poles set up as a tripod, block and tackle and the driver run by the drive wheel of a 1964 Mercury with the tire removed from the rim.

...When music became amplified, his violin wasn't. He took the pick up from an electric guitar, fashioned a clip to hold it to his fiddle, and Viola! His first electric violin!

...When my Brother's constant pounding on the piano interfered with the TV, a series of jacks were installed on the side of the cabinet and headphones were adapted. Taa- daa, personal viewing in the 1960's.

...In the 60's and early 70's he worked for an AMC Dealer. When the 1971 Javelin came out with its rear valve cover bolts under the firewall, AMC's solution to get at them was to drop the rear cross member and tilt the motor back. Pa's solution was to design and build a wrench bent in such a way to get at them. AMC eventually made these wrenches available to all their mechanics.

...In the 1970's Pa went to work for the City. Every year, plow operators would forget where the manhole lids were, and with the first snowfall, would tear chunks out the plow blades. His solution was to put 1" high 'skids' on the bottom of the blades, saving them from extreme damage. This is now a standard attachment on all snowplows everywhere.

...The garage where we fixed our own cars was at my Aunt and Uncle's house nearby. When it burned down in 1981, everyone chipped in to rebuild it, bigger and better. The new garage lacked an air compressor, and those were prohibitively expensive at the time. The Old Man cobbled together a unit comprised of 2 HP electric motor, a 2 stroke lawnmower engine, a small water tank and a limiting switch. It wasn't strong enough to run air tools, but it could fill tires and run a paint gun. It still works.

Over his lifetime, he became the go to guy to solve all types of mechanical, electrical and general engineering difficulties.

If it could be built, he could build it.

If it could be fixed, he could fix it.

He wasn't Mac Gyver...Mac Gyver studied him.

If I've learned one thing from him, it was to never give up, there is always a solution. Tenacity was his chief virtue.

There is a fine line between tenacious and stubborn, and he didn't seem to know where that was.

They told him years ago he only had months to live.

Months ago, weeks.

Weeks ago, days.

He proved them wrong again.

He was stubborn like that.

Somewhere, the sweetest fiddle music plays again.

DJW

Can You Believe This?

I don't make this stuff up.

The link (including TV ad) is here.

Thing 2 wants 8 of them.

DJW

DJ's Sea Mokey's didn't survive the great toilet flood of 1973.

"Hello, Complaint Department?"

A recent errand run around the Megatropolis that I live in yielded me a bevy of observations of people and things that just plain tick me off.

First off, I was so unaware that we had such a collection of V.I.P.'s* near here. *Various Idiots & Peon's

I constantly see their limo's* parked at or near store entrances in plaza's with acre's of parking! *minivans and dusty 80's Oldsmobiles It makes me think that they are all Getaway Driver's! And it doesn't seem to matter the value of the store either! Grandpa's Buick in front of Price Choppers or, get this, a Hummer (H2, of course) blocking 3 cars at Starbucks. (for a reeeaaly bad, overpriced coffee. More on that in another column)

Don't get me started on Handicapped, or to be P.C., Accessible Parking.

OK, I'm started.

Those spots are for people with mobility problems, dammit!
Not for you 'cuz you're only gonna be a minute, not for you because you have the impaired person in the car and you're gonna run in for them, but for the actual people.

There's a guy at work that deals with this beautifully. He stands about 6 foot, runs about 220 lbs and has a lot of tattoo's. Looks like a Biker because he is. His wife is wheelchair bound. He goes up to people who park in these spots without entitlement and politely suggests they move. Should they resist, he suggests more strongly. He's been known to block offending vehicles while he and his wife go enjoy a leisurely dinner.

When did a red light become the signal for 2 or three more cars to proceed? Or trucks to just ignore?

A light near my office has transports running it on the way to the highway, sometimes they even sound the horn to clear the way! I was nearly squashed last week waiting to turn left, the transport approaching wasn't stopping for the red, and the transport behind me laid on his horn! I had to gun it and go up to the next light to turn! Seriously. I have developed the habit of waiting a few seconds after the green to see if anyone is racing through.

Bathrooms.

What is up with the little squares they pass as toilet paper? I'm removing fecal matter, not covering shaving cuts! With all the focus on hand hygiene, why not install foot pedals on the toilets? Your automatic-motion-detector tap is lovely, but how 'bout some hot water? Same for the hand dryer. Heat would be nice. The picto-gram instructions always leave out the last step... wipe your hands on your pants. The only units of these that I've seen actually work, are at a bar called Filthy Mc Nasty's. Those dryers are powered by Rolls Royce jet engines, I swear!

There, I feel better now.

DJW

DJ did not leave his SUV double parked in a handicapped spot while writing this.

Give us a Brake!

It's not a spelling mistake.

My Survey Crew was working near Milton today, on a road with no shoulders.

Now, call me strange (others have), but I feel responsible for my crew's safety. When traffic control is needed, I like to be flagman or drive the blocker truck. I can still direct operations by radio, and assist or advise when needed.

I hope they get the idea that I am don't just say I'm watching out for them, I actually am.

Today was no different.

Anyway, like I said, we were working on a two lane road with no shoulder, we've set up the work area as per Book 7 and I'm flagging, so all is well.

I saw him coming.

He broke through the last traffic light at the end of town. He was late. He was doing at least 80 in a 60. I started waving the 'Slow' paddle.

He was speeding up.

I gave the guys the 'heads up' over the radio, stepped out and turned the sign to 'Stop'.

He stopped. I told him I had a crew on the road and he needed to slow down. He countered with that he was doing the speed limit (he wasn't) and that my signs weren't adequate (they were).

He then speculated that my parents were never married.

Before I let him pass I pointed out that he was in a signed work zone and subject to double fines for speeding, and fines for disobeying a Flag Person. By then though, my objective of slowing him and protecting my crew was achieved.

Before he left he again made a speculation that my Mother was a canine.

Listen folks, it may seem that we take cruel pleasure in holding up traffic, but its the opposite. Our number one concern is worker safety. Our other number one concern is public safety. Where I work there is an unwritten rule (that is sometimes written) that on major routes we don't set up until after rush hour, and we follow it. Like I said above, it's for the public's and our safety.

Prior to 2005 the worst he could have been charged with was 'Failing to obey a lawful sign'
In 2005, the Ontario Highway Traffic Act was amended to include Section 146, part of which reads: (source E-Laws)

Traffic control stop and slow signs

146.1 (1) A traffic control person on a roadway or adjacent to a roadway where construction or maintenance work is being carried out may display a traffic control stop or slow sign. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Same – firefighters

(2) A firefighter on a roadway or adjacent to a roadway where an accident has occurred may display a traffic control stop or slow sign. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Driver required to stop

(3) Where a traffic control person or firefighter displays a traffic control stop sign, the driver of any vehicle or street car approaching the person shall stop before reaching him or her and shall not proceed until the traffic control person or firefighter stops displaying the traffic control stop sign. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Driver required to slow down

(4) Where a traffic control person or firefighter displays a traffic control slow sign, the driver of any vehicle or street car approaching the person shall approach the person and proceed past him or her and past the construction or maintenance work or scene of an accident with caution and at a slow rate of speed so as not to endanger any person or vehicle on or adjacent to the roadway. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Unauthorized use of sign

(5) No person other than a traffic control person or firefighter shall display on a highway a traffic control stop or slow sign. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Regulations

(6) The Lieutenant Governor in Council may make regulations prescribing the type, design and specifications of traffic control stop and slow signs. 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Definitions

(7) In this section,

“construction or maintenance work” includes work by a utility, including a public utility within the meaning of the Public Utilities Act or the Municipal Act, 2001, or by a transmitter or distributor within the meaning of the Electricity Act, 1998; (“travaux de construction ou d’entretien”)

“firefighter” has the same meaning as in subsection 1 (1) of the Fire Protection and Prevention Act, 1997; (“pompier”)

“traffic control person” means a person who is directing traffic and,

(a) is employed by,

(i) the road authority with jurisdiction over the highway,

(ii) a public utility within the meaning of the Public Utilities Act or the Municipal Act, 2001,

(iii) a transmitter or distributor within the meaning of the Electricity Act, 1998, or

(iv) a person under contract with the road authority, public utility, transmitter or distributor to do construction or maintenance work on or adjacent to the roadway, or

(b) is employed by or under contract with a person who has been issued a permit or written authorization by the road authority with jurisdiction over the highway to occupy a lane or a portion of a highway in order to undertake work on or adjacent to the highway. (“agent de régulation de la circulation”) 2005, c. 26, Sched. A, s. 23.

Penalties start at $500 and 6 points.

If you've ever driven on a US Interstate, you've seen the signs dictating the penalties for injuring or killing a Road Worker or Police Officer working on the road. And they are a heck of a lot more.

None of those penalties equal that paid by said injured or dead Road Worker or Police Officer or their families.

Please give us a brake.

It's the law.

And we want to go home to our families too.

DJW

DJ wants the driver of the black Lexus, Ont. plate ###-XXX
( he wrote it down) to know he got off lucky today.
So did his crew.

Dear Frigidaire...

We were very proud of our Frigidaire Gallery Series Model CFEF372CB2 Glass Top Range when we got it new on March 21st, 2004. We celebrated spring and our tax refund with our first brand new stove, a $1000 gleaming black gem on sale for $850!

In our 13+ years of marriage we had made do with used $75 stoves, with burner rings that would gather spills and crud and smoke and burn out. The ovens required harsh chemicals to clean them, and they usually lasted 3 or 4 years, with $15 or $20 repairs every now and then.

But no more of those problems now that we have this baby, no siree. The smooth glass top just wipes clean, and the oven is self cleaning, just set it and forget it.

And its a Frigidaire!

Our Frigidaire upright freezer was nearly 50 years old when we replaced it with a new, energy efficient one, and it still worked! We should have many, many years of reliable service from our brand new stove.

Yeah, right.

First off, the glass top is impossible to keep clean, even when using the recommended Cerama Bryte(tm) cleaner.

Then, several months ago, while cooking dinner, the oven control started beeping, flashing "F1" on its display, and the door lock came on, trapping our dinner inside. I had to cut and restore the power to the range in order to release the door. The error code indicated that the oven control required replacing. A check for the part found it was over $300, and we couldn't afford that at the time.

We found if we just didn't set the oven too high, it would still work well enough to cook a meal.

Slowly, the temperature threshold got lower and lower until 350 degrees was the maximum before it would fault.

Tonight it faulted, and will not reset.

The oven and cooktop is dead.

As a doorknob.

Constant beep like a flatline.

5 Years, 6 Months and 1 week old.

R.I.P. (rust in pieces)

Part # 31818530 is US$240 plus shipping, putting it over CAN$300, then labour.

Home Depot has a GE 30" range for $399.

You do the math.

DJW

We are now using a 'modular cook station.'
Two hotplates and a toaster oven.

This is Wonderland?: Support your troops

This is Wonderland?: Support your troops

No, I didn't write this...

No.

In spite of rumors to the opposite, or what you might think, I did NOT write the following headline in this week's Brantford Expositor:

Clean getaway in Pledge, Windex theft

Although I could have.

Would have.


DJW

Another country heard from...: Meet Sammy...

Another country heard from...: Meet Sammy...

Shared via AddThis

This is Wonderland?: Rants for a Monday

This is Wonderland?: Rants for a Monday

An Early Retirement

My eldest offspring, Thing One, has been involved with Canada's best kept secret for over 9 years now.

She has been a Cadet since the age of nine.

First with the Navy League, then with the Sea Cadets.

In both instances, she started at the bottom and progressed steadily through the ranks, eventually becoming Chief of the Corps, the top ranking Cadet.

As a parent, getting her involved with Cadets was an easy choice. It was free to join, taught her skills, and gave her incentive to serve.

I knew what she was in for if she gave it a chance. I had been a Cadet as a young lad. I learned values and made friends there that I still have over 30 years later.

She retires this week, at the ripe old age of 18, passing on her charge to another deserving young person, willing and able to take on a leadership role.

Below is the text of her Farewell Message to her Corps.

On Vigil, November 11th, 2008

Camp, Cadets, and the Real World.

Firstly, I would like to take this time to congratulate all of our camp-bound cadets on an excellent summer. I got a chance to see most of you, teach some of you, and watch you become leaders in your Divisions and in Cadets. Congratulations to MS Johnson on being named top in his Division, and to QPO1 Jackson on earning his watch ticket.

Now, I’ve come to the point in my Cadet career where I can look back and reflect not only on what I have gained from the Cadet Program, but what I could pass on to you, the future leaders not only of our corps but of our camps, our town and our country.

Sounds a bit cheesy or romantic, I’ll admit, but let me explain. Throughout my Cadet career I’ve been presented with unique and fantastic opportunities, from traveling across the country to train at our two coastal SCSTCs, HMCS QUADRA and HMCS ACADIA, to volunteer opportunities through cadets and the Royal Canadian Legion. While the latter part, volunteering, might seem less than thrilling, it’s given me the skills to ‘get ahead’ or survive in what I call the ‘real world’, basically everything outside of your school, home, video game and computer chair. The real world is learning how to survive, how to succeed, how to explore what everyone else has to offer and find yourself in the process.

Have I lost you yet? I hope not. Everything you learn in Cadets: teamwork, initiative, leadership, discipline; down to the little skills like knot tying, orienteering, musicianship and sailing are tools you’re going to use again, unlike in some of your classes in school where you memorize dates and formulae you may never use in your entire life (apologies to Slt Messecar and Lt(N) Downey for that bit, no hard feelings against teachers or historians!). I won’t drag on too much longer, but I want you to remember this: anytime you’re sitting in a class at Cadets and you don’t want to pay attention, you don’t want to tie this knot or work with that person, just do it. Anytime you think “I can’t!” or that something is impossible, just do it. Like a bad Nike commercial, anytime something is difficult and you just can’t face it—you guessed it—just do it.

Trust me on this one.

Well done, Chief.

Bravo Zulu.

DJW aka Daddycab

There are Corps and Squadrons across Canada.

For more information on the Cadet Program, Click here

Really Instant Karma

Here's a news item from The Toronto Sun I thought noteworthy...

A teen armed with a handgun holds up a variety store and robs the proprietor of his hard earned money. While fleeing he runs into the street and gets nailed by a car.

Here is the entire text of the story:

A teen who ran into the path of an on-coming car on Victoria Park Ave. after robbing a North York variety store has died from his injuries in hospital, police said yesterday.

Two young men, including the 17-year-old dead boy, were each armed with handguns when they robbed the R.J. Food Market Convenience, between Lawrence and Eglinton Aves., shortly after 8 p.m. Friday, Toronto Police said.

"Two young teenagers with masks and a gun, one guy with a handgun and the other, some kind of gun" came into the store, shopkeeper Hann Liu, 55, said yesterday.

He said one of the bandits jumped over the counter and grabbed "$150-something" from the till, but he's not absolutely sure.

The duo then fled out of the store, one into heavy traffic on Victoria Park, Liu said.

"So one car hit one guy," he said. "The gun...fell on the road and the police (came)," Liu said. He said he feels bad: "Safety is not very good here." Neither Liu or his wife, 53, were hurt during the heist.

The injured teen apparently suffered head injuries and was taken to Hospital for Sick Children.

The other suspect got away. A pistol was recovered at the scene. Police said although the investigation is continuing, no charges are anticipated against the motorist.

DJ here...my only fear is that some Lawyer will get their slimy paws on this and sue the driver of the car!

Lets hear it for instant karma!

DJW

DJ thinks the best line from Judge Roy Bean is,

"Who the hell are you?"

"Justice, you sons of bitches!"

Watch This Space...

Holy Cow!

It's been over a month since I've blogged.

Some of you may find this refreshing.

It's not because I haven't wanted to, but life and circumstances intervened.

I'm chewing on some stuff that I've yet to fully digest and regurgitate here.

In the coming weeks (hopefully), you will find the closing chapter of The Steel Roof Chronicles (still waiting for the blessings of the Almighty Insurance Company), some stuff on Soldiers and Veterans, and on life in general.

Oh, and the Talk Show Idol thing?

CHML still hasn't gotten back to me. If you want to take it upon yourselves inquire about my status, contact the Program Director here. Or....jstorey@900chml.com

Later this week there will be a column with input from Thing 1.

Watch for it.

And if you look to your left at my profile, you will see an addition. Welcome aboard, Boy Thing! He's happy to be here and we are happy to have him. More about that later.

In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves and keep an eye here.

DJW

DJ apologizes to those who have been holding their breath.
You may now breathe . Thank you for your patience.

More bad news...again...like always...

Why do the news media outlets feel that we want to hear about the bad things in life?

Think about it.

The headline of almost any major paper or the lead story of almost all the broadcasts is usually about crime, tragedy, pain and suffering.

Headlines from 3 big papers and one small one today include:

• Sex Predator on the Prowl: Toronto Sun
• Helicopter Dropped Like a Rock: Toronto Star
• Elderly Eased Out: Hamilton Spectator
• Blight Ravages Potato Crops: Brantford Expositor

Gee, doesn't all that just perk me up.

Also, why do I need to know about celebrities behaving badly? And why is it news?

What possible difference to the economy does it make if Paula Abdul leaves American Idol? Or what effect will there be on the B.C. forest fires if John and Kate litigate?

One thing that I did pull out of today's news is that there will be a new show coming this fall..called Its Always Good News. Hosted by Connie Smith of CHCH fame, a 30 year plus veteran let go in budget cuts.

Also one local item with a personal link: Caitlin's Family Donates Warmer. A blanket warmer for McMaster Children's Hospital was donated by the family of this late tot, taken earlier this year by cancer at age 5.

And I had to dig this one up for M.D.B., a story from last year that could have been a tragedy: Man unhurt after being taken for ride when motorized chair gets stuck to truck grille. Poor guy crossing the road ends up stuck to the front of a semi, and could have ended up as road kill.

Two songs are running through my head right now, Don Henley's Dirty Laundry and Anne Murray's A Little Good News.

Dunno bout you, but I would rather hear about the good stuff first, kinda brace me for the bad stuff.

DJW

Some good news...the renovations are getting nearer to done!

John Rennison, the Hamilton Spectator

Your Opinion Counts! Really! It's Talk Show Idol Time Again!

Before a Politician embarks on a campaign they usually commission a straw poll to gauge their possibilities.

That's what I'm doing here today.

AM900 CHML Radio in Hamilton is resurrecting it's 'Talk Show Idol' contest again.

Some of you may recall that I entered the first edition in 2007, and finished second overall.

Some may say that's a great achievement for a kid from the country.

Some may say that second place is the first loser.

Some may liken me to Justin Guarini.

In any case, since my first go round I started this Blog to hone my ranting skills, and as a way to express my opinion to all those who care to read it. Or not to read it.

I asked for some people to select a 'Best of IMAG' collection and here is what they came up with:

• Double Dippers
• 'Scuse Me?
• He Never Served His Country
• Another Un-needed Law
• and the ever popular When I am King.
  

(click on the title to read the post)

So I throw it to you, folks.

Do I run again?

Or do I bask in my near success of the first run?

If I win, I can't promise a chicken in every pot, or no new taxes. But I will devote as much air time as I can to the various charities I've supported over the years.

...and I promise not to use the "N" word again.

DJW

DJ regrets and apologizes for using the word "Newfie" on the air.

The Circle of Life

I've been sorting a lot of memories in recent weeks. Funny thing about memories, one seems to trigger another.

While this overcrowded shed in my head is jammed with useless factoids like... there were just around 20,000 AMX's built ...and that Walrus's (or is it Walrusii?) eat 4,000 clams in 10 minutes, miraculously I still have room for some fond memories.

I remember things like evening drives going for a 'red pop'; campfires in the back yard; watching clouds with Ma and spontaneous jam sessions breaking out in the kitchen.

I am the youngest of the gang by far, with 11 years between myself and my sister. The official line is that I was the only 'planned' one and I'll stick with that. That gave me the luxury of being treated like an only child (with 6 parents no less) But the truth is, I had more time with Ma and Pa than the Big Four.

One of the memories that blindsided me the other night was a good one.

While we still lived in the country ( before I turned 11), Pa would occasionally pack us up a meal in a canvas ditty bag , which was usually a pork chop and some sliced potatoes wrapped in tinfoil, a few 'red pops' for me and a few 'brown pops' for him. He would then announce to Ma in a very man like voice that we were going "Hunting Bunnies", and bring along a couple of antique 22's he had. (Google Steven's Little Scout and Steven's Visible Action if you wish). We would drive 1/2 mile to the TH&B tracks, then walk the 1/2 mile down to a trestle that passed over a creek in the bush. We would gather wood for a campfire, and while our meal cooked on a rock in the middle, we'd hunt 'tin' bunnies that we found and set on stumps in the woods. Usually we would see a real bunny, and would try to get close enough to feed it with some the nuts that Pa always had in his pocket, but they frequently would skitter off.

The other night I took Pa for a 'roll' around the grounds of the Hospice. The area there must be 4 acres, and has lots of both landscaped and natural growth.

Much to his delight, we spotted not one, but two bunnies.





All these years later, I'm the one taking Pa out hunting bunnies.


DJW

He Never Served His Country.

He was a singer/dancer/entertainer.

A self mutilating, accused pedophile who in the last decade or so became a parody of himself.

I'm not even going to mention his name because I'm sick of hearing it.

He never served his country.

He never put his life in danger for anyone.

He never came under enemy fire or never had to fire back in his own defense or in the defense of others.

He never saved a life.

He died of an apparent drug overdose.

I'm disgusted at the amount of coverage given to this freak, and even more disgusted that the first 10 minutes of the news today was about him.

There was a Ramp Ceremony today in Kandahar for Master Corporal Pat Audet and Corporal Martin Joannette, killed in a chopper incident yesterday.

Yesterday... while a procession passed along The Highway of Heroes.

Cpl. Nick Bulger was killed last week by an I.E.D. in Afghanistan.

CHCH News in Hamilton pushed the Ramp Ceremony story back until after the 'first glance' at the weather. Even then, they only gave it one minute.

One minute.

Shameful.

To the families, comrades and friends of Master Corporal Pat Audet, Corporal Martin Joannette and Corporal Nick Bulger, I am very sorry for your loss, and saddened that a celebrity spectacle denied these men the respect they should have received.

They served their Country with honour.

They put their lives in danger for everyone.

They came under enemy fire and had to fire back in their own defense and the defense of others.

They saved lives.

They died with honour and dignity.



Corporal Nick Bulger Master Corporal Pat Audet and Corporal Martin Joannette

"At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them."

Lest we forget.

DJW

Timeline: Death toll in Afghanistan

Peacekeeper Park

More on Hard Decisions edited

Sorry, BLOGiste is a her, not a him.

A Blogger in Egypt picked up my Blog on Living Wills.

As he was writing a similar story, he asked if link to my Blog, which of course I agreed to.

His Blog, BLOGitse, is in Finnish I think, and seems to have generated a lot of response.

If you can read Finn, follow this link and read more.

I guess this just shows how small this planet has become, and how we all suffer the same trials.

DJW

This is cool, Bloggers Without Borders!

Hard Decisions Made Somewhat Easier

I am not the first person to lose a Parent.

I am not the first person to have to suspend life support.

I am not the first person to watch as a loved one passed away.

Things were made somewhat easier by my Parents.

A few years ago, they made a Living Will.

Dunno how Ma got that past Pa, but she did. Will's and life insurance are something Pa is wary of, due to superstitions passed down from generations of Coal Miners. She gave a copy to my Sister and I, and made us sit there and read it in front of her.

If we hadn't had that document, I don't know what would have happened.

The rest of my family have long known what she wanted, and more importantly given the circumstances, what she didn't want. When the Doctor called on Friday and gave us the ultimate prognosis, it wasn't what we wanted to hear.

But we knew we had to do what she wanted. To do anything else would be selfish and wrong.

When I came home from talking with the Doctor, M.D.B. and I sat the girls down and told them what was going to happen. It wasn't easy, but its part of being an adult.

Then we told them that we loved them, and we didn't want them to have to make the hard decisions if weren't able to. We made our wishes clear to them, and as soon as the dust settles, we too will make it a legal document. We love our girls, and to put them through unneeded trauma at a time of crisis would just be cruel. I urge anyone reading this to create a living will. If you don't want to pay a lawyer, you can get kits and software at most office supply stores, and getting it notarized is as easy as going to City Hall.

Living Will's are an expression of love.

Ma loved us enough to make the decisions for us.

Thanks Ma.

M.D.B. shares her views at This is Wonderland?

As Luck Would Have It

It was a sunny Thursday.

I was working just north of Oakville when I got the call.

My Mother was being rushed to a Trauma Center in a nearby city. An aneurysm in her abdomen had burst. At least a 9.7 on the scale of the worst phone call you could get.

As luck would have it, I was only five minutes from my car.

Ma was born into a farm family, in the middle of the 1930's. As one of twelve children, they all had to take care of something on the farm. When Grandpa went into the Army, everyone had more to take care of. As luck would have have it, the family farm was near Camp 20 in Brantford where Grandpa served as an M.P. The eldest children took care of the farm, the younger ones took care of the even younger ones.

As luck would have it, Ma was near the middle of the pack and took care of her younger siblings.

In those days, it was quite normal for women to marry in their teens and start families of their own. As luck would have it, Ma had children of her own to look after by the time she was in her late teens.

That was her job, to look after people. As luck would have it, she was pretty good at it.

She was a stay at home mom before that was an option. I'm the youngest of the gang, and she never worked outside the home until I was in school. Even then, she made sure that there was a lunch ready for me when she couldn't be there.

As luck would have it, somewhere near that time, a friend who's husband was terminally ill needed help. They had no children to look after them, so Ma did. That's what she did. She held her friends hand while her husband died. Many years later she held her friends hand while she died. That's what she did.

Ma was not without health issues over the years. In the 1970's, she underwent a series of surgeries. One of the few things Pa never did master was cooking. In an emergency he could fry plain hamburger and some potatoes, or pork chops and french fries. So Ma made a series of meals, labeled them and put them in the freezer for emergencies. Even when she was sick, she took care of us. That's what she did.

As we got older and had children of our own, Ma wouldn't hear of daycare for her grandchildren. Or her great-grandchildren. She would take care of them, that's what she did. As luck would have it, we kept her well supplied with people to take care of.

A few years ago, as Pa's health started to fail, there was talk of putting him into some kind of extended care. Ma would have none of that. She would take care of him as long as she could.

That's what she did.

That's what she was doing on that sunny Thursday when she collapsed on the living room floor. She managed to get out a phone call for help. As luck would have it, my Sister was nearby and got there in time.

As luck would have it, an ambulance was literally around the corner and able to respond. As she was being wheeled out she asked for someone to call for help for Pa. She had to make sure he was taken care of.

That's what she did.

As luck would have it, my nephew worked nearby and could stay with Pa until the nurse got there.

As luck would have it, I beat the ambulance to the Trauma Center. I commented to her that there were other ways out of the family picnic slated for that weekend. She laughed. A good sign.

As luck would have it, the on-call Vascular Surgeon is the Professor for such things at McMaster Medical School. The surgery went well and quicker than expected. She had lost a lot of blood, and her kidneys, liver and pancreas had been blood starved for some time.

As luck would have it, the whole family was in the area for the picnic. A rare occasion as my one Sister lives in California and my one Brother travels a lot for business.

As luck would have it, her mind was damaged by lack of blood flow and her kidneys didn't respond to treatment. She never regained consciousness and never knew what was going on around her. She hung on long enough for everyone to say goodbye. Even as she was leaving us she was making sure we weren't inconvenienced.

She was taking care of us. That's what she did.

She slipped away peacefully.

It was a rainy Saturday.

As luck would have it.

DJ and his Family thank everyone for thier support.
We have a lot of great people around us, as luck would have it.

Waiting Room Etiquette

I've spent a lot of time in a waiting room this past week.

The ICU waiting room at Hamilton General has 54 seats. I've had plenty of time to count them. That's roughly one per bed. ICU visiting hours are 24/7 there, understandably. With only two family visitors at a time, 54 seems like a reasonable amount.

They also recommend that one family member act as a spokesperson, and wrangle who comes when to keep traffic down and allow them time to give treatment.

This also seems reasonable.

Now, I am also well aware that everyone who is in there has a loved one in critical condition, we all do. And they all want to be there to show support.

Completely understandable.

I am very thankful for the support I've had.

But...

...support can go overboard.

This weekend, there were two families that commandeered the waiting room beyond belief. One family went and bought bags upon bags of groceries and set up a complete Deli on one of the coffee tables. Another family had what seemed like a catered affair with pans of lasagna, cannelloni, garlic bread and salads. All that was missing was the wine and the music and we could have had a wedding.

We ended up in the hall.

By we I mean three of us. It was my Brothers turn to visit. We gave up our seats so that they had somewhere to put the salad bar.

Ferchristsakes, it's the frigging waiting room! I did a mental calculation; if all the people at the Italian wedding went in, two by two, for twenty minutes each, it would've taken six and a half hours for them all to go through.

Un-friggin-believable and im-friggin-possible!

We all have loved ones in distress, and we all want our turn, but for crying out loud have a little courtesy and compassion.

DJW

DJ and his family thank everyone for their continued support.

The Real Reason Why Men Don't Read Directions.

Ladies, if you've ever wondered why men don't read instructions, there are very good reasons for it.

Below are the instructions for a battery I picked up recently (yes, for a battery)...

Then of course, there is the actual manual:



Nuff said.

DJW

DJ did not follow the instructions to post this blog.

Some Lessons Learned

Its been a while folks.

Silly season round here.

Parades, meetings, spring cleaning and planting, yard work (some left over from last year, and the year before)

And then there's the roof.

Looming overhead.

Whats been holding my house together for 130 years.

I'm proud to say that work has begun. Some remedial repairs have been made, and some demolition and new construction has been completed.

The main part of Our Humble Castle was built in 1881 with 1881 construction methods. Post and timber framing, with pegged joints and a plank roof. An addition to the rear around 1910 added 300 square feet and a small valley to the roof profile. Methods and materials didn't seem to change much over those 30 odd years.

Fast forward to the late 1980's, when the previous owners decided to replace the roof. Instead of tearing off the three layers of shingles on the back, they decided to build a whole new roof over the existing one, taking out the valley. They did not cut back the old roof, they simply made the fascia extra wide. This produced a gap of roughly 7 inches in the middle of the valley. This is what I am now correcting.

So I have to peel off plywood fascia, and expose the old roof. Then cut it back flush, put up some extra bracing and attach new 1' x 6" fascia boards ready for cover.

Sounds easy, right?

Wrong.

You'd figure that an industrial r-saw with "demolition blades" (I got a capital Y chromosome just buying them) would go through 100+ year old planks like a hot knife through butter.

Not so.

The 1" thick planks and flat iron nails chewed these blades up like popcorn. I had to change blades every 5 minutes and soak them in kerosene to clean and cool them. The soaking also cleaned the asphalt that was clogging the teeth.

Then the genius that did the work before, hadn't properly braced the overhang, only providing support every four feet where joints occurred. So someone has to install them.

130 year old plank roof.

So, as with every project I get involved with, there was much more work than I had figured.

In the end, 25 feet of demolition and and remedial construction took me roughly 18 hours over two days.

Lessons?

That 130 years ago, things were built to last. I wonder how many of the new 'manufactured' homes will be around 130 years from now.

That you will need twice as many 'demolition blades' as you figure.

That 130 year old planks, while tough to cut, make excellent coals for cooking bratwurst.

DJW

Somewhere, the men that built this house are laughing at DJ.

When I am King... (repost)

With the events surrounding the death of Victoria Stafford, I felt it was appropriate to revisit this post.

I am seeking the position of King of the World.

I am aware I can’t just declare myself such as Leo DiCaprio did in Titanic. So I’ll have to convince you all I deserve the job. I have developed a platform of ideas I hope to implement as The Monarch of Earth.

I have outlined some of the concepts below.

Ahem… When I am King…

…Stupidity will be a punishable crime. Yes, those who are volunteer idiots will be held accountable for their acts. Those who video it and show it on You Tube or Worlds Most Amazing Home Videos will be held as accomplices. No one needs to see another sk8r boi get a handrail in the berries, or Evel Knievel wannabe’s dumping their bikes.

When I am Tsar of the Planet…

…Baffin Island will be a penal colony. For those who drain our system and will forever be a burden on society, there they can roam freely, from shore to shore to shore to frozen shore, feeding off each other. This, of course, is only for the worst offenders; three time losers and child molesters and the like. Also for those who have been convicted of six or more counts of Felony Stupidity. If you make it back to the mainland, you may go free. Child Molesters will have their arms severed before sentencing.

When I am The Baron of the Orb…

…Gas prices will be directly linked to the price of a barrel of oil. Pretty simple concept; and a rate of 1% for regular would be fair I think. $100 a barrel equals $1.00 a liter.

When I am Prince of the Globe…

…Bad drivers will be punished on the spot. The Honda-maniacs and Beemer Bozos who cause those daily rear enders that delay us regular people will be forced to stand under one of those portable flashy sign boards as it alternates between “ I APOLOGIZE FOR MAKING YOU LATE” and “I AM AN IDIOT”. Oh, and they have to hand out free Timmies while waiting for the tow truck and the paperwork. Doing this will take the place of one Misdemeanor Stupidity conviction.

Further, all drivers who have never been convicted of a Rolling Stupidity will be issued paint ball guns with florescent pink ammo. When they see a Stupidity - in - progress, they are allowed to fire one shot. When the offender collects three or more blots, Police have the authority to pull the offender over and give him (or her, lets not discriminate) a summons for being an a**hole.

When I am The Czar of the Cosmos…

…Drivers Ed will be a mandatory High School course. And will be given in Grade12 only. Thus two problems will be solved: teen accident stats and the drop out rate will both drop. No diploma? No license. Courses offered outside of school will be a mandatory $5000.00.

When I am The Grand Poobah…

…Car Insurance would go back to at fault. If you hit me, your insurance pays, and my rates don’t get touched. I did nothing wrong, why should I have to pay?

When I am Sultan of The Solar System…

…Loaves of bread will have an even number of slices. Further, peanut butter and jam jars will be no deeper than 1.25 inches less than the length of the average kitchen knife.

When I am Nabob of The Sphere…

…Hate Criminals and Identified Bigots will be reformed. All those convicted or even accused of any form of racial or religious discrimination will be ushered into a facility like the Skydome, and be forced to watch as dozens of four and five – year – olds of all races and religions play on the playground below.
There will be puppies and kittens too.
Kids don’t hate, that’s a learned behavior.
Only when the offenders are a blubbering mass may they be released.

When I am The Supreme Ruler of all The Lands and Seas…

…Spy satellites will be used for drug control. This sophisticated technology will stop reading license plates and intruding on sheep farmer’s private moments and be trained on the poppy and cocaine crops. The Air Force will then Napalm the crops and keep doing so until the world’s supply of heroin and crack is nothing more than a memory. The trickle down of this will run a spectrum from reducing terrorism to pruning petty street crimes.

When I am the Kaiser of Terra Firma…

…Unions will be outlawed. Where is it fair that a guy with no education deserves $75k a year to put wheels on cars in a factory, yet a Graduate Teacher can’t get a job because of double dippers, and a married Soldier with two kids’ lives at the poverty line.

When I am The Emperor of this Macrocosm…

…There shall be bunnies. And they shall frolic every morn while birds chirp in the distance. Oh, and dogs would only poop in their own yards.

Feel free to give me more concepts to implement during my reign as Overlord of All.

Thank you for your support.

DJW

Happy Birthday to Me!

As my birthday looms like a North Atlantic iceberg in early spring, I am not in much of a celebratory mood. This is not a milestone year coming, nor am I suffering from a middle age crisis. I have aches and pains but nothing I can't work around.

I am coming to grips with mortality.

You see, twenty - odd years ago I was immortal.

We all were.

Worked all day, partied till dawn, slept for 10 minutes and did it all over again. And as if driving the ammo truck for an Artillery Regiment wasn't enough, I tried my hand at Stock Car racing for a little more rush.

I imagine that sixty - odd years ago my Father was immortal.

An accomplished musician at young age, he was a mentor to the great Johnny Mooring.

The War got him of out of the coal mines of Springhill, Nova Scotia, but only as far as Sussex, New Brunswick. After he served in the Army as a mechanic, he likes to tell the story of how he built an Indian Motorcycle with 'spare parts' and rode it to Ontario. Of course after six decades we can all admit they were stolen parts.

He quickly found work as a mechanic. Now lets remember that he was a mechanic when they were more than 'technicians'. He was a welder, hydraulic specialist, pipe fitter, electrician, painter and more. He even taught night school until they found out he dropped out in Grade Nine. His skills led him to many opportunities, including a chance to go to South America to help set up a factory and train the workers. This he turned down because it would take him away from his family for six months or more.

His love and talent for music also soon found him in a band. This led to a regular Saturday Evening Radio gig with his band, The Nova Scotia Ramblers. (a strange foretelling as he would later work for Rambler and A.M.C.) It was on the radio that he proposed to my mother by dedicating a song for her, a tune called "Flop Eared Mule". ( I would later steal his idea to propose to M.D.B., but that's another story.)

His musical talents were legend, and earned him a spot on The Ted Mack Amateur Hour in New York City in 1959, a pre-pre-precursor to American Idol. He won trophies at the Canadian Old Time Fiddle Championships for his novelty fiddling; playing behind his back, head, holding the bow with his knees and many other contorted, impossible positions. During a weekend trip to see the Grand Ole Opry, there are pictures of him sitting around the hotel pool, jamming with the stars of Hee Haw. Their offer of a spot in the show's band was turned down because music wasn't a stable income for a man with a family.

His accidental un-quest for immortality led him to one other thing, he gave me his name. This is not uncommon, you may say, except that it is an uncommon combination of names. Most of us have 'Googled' our own names to see if there are others out there. Lorraine Sommerfeld called it 'Googleganging.' Try it and see how many you can come up with.

A search for my first name comes back with over 124,000 hits. My surname, 179,000. Put the two together?

It comes back to two people. Just the two of us. In all of the internet.

A very exclusive club in which I have been Vice President for almost 44 years.

The other night I visited the old man, and it made me sad to think that the man he was lives in him still, and wonder what it must be like to live with his memories.

I'll be the President someday, but its not a job I necessarily want.

The President in his heyday

DJW

the music that played on the wind

Thank Goodness for Unlimited Packages! UPDATED!

Thing One had her cell stolen while she was away in Kingston for the summer. Idiot that stole it ran the usage up to 172 pages before I could get it canceled. The unlimited package really paid for itself! DJW

I both sympathize and cheer for a Wyoming Dad who took a hammer to his 13 year old daughter's cell phone after she rang up a nearly $5000.00 bill, mostly by text messaging.

Many parents have given their teens cellphones. Thing One and Thing Two, our teenage daughters have had them for quite a few years. Initially paid for by Mommy and Daddy.

Other parents call parents like us crazy, but try to follow us around for a few weeks and you'll know why our kids have these units.

A number of years ago, Thing One made some transgression that suspended her internet privileges for a time. She discovered that she could access the internet from her cell, not knowing that it was $50 a megabyte and not knowing that Daddy would flip. Subsequently, she lost her cell until she paid the bill off.

Late last year, Thing Two got a new boyfriend, and discovered texting. She didn't have a text plan. The ensuing 44 page invoice caused yet another blood pressure record, and suspension of privileges until payment.

Earlier this year, we renewed our contract, we all got shiny new phones with cameras, and most of us got QWERTY keypads. This time though, Mommy and Daddy would pay for the basic service, and the Sisters Thing would have to pay the extra for the enhanced, unlimited plans, which ring up at about $20 per month each. As they both have part time jobs, this was no problem for them.

We got our new units just before Thing One embarked on a nearly 2 week journey to Halifax, including 30 hours on a train each way. It was great to get updates on her progress, and pic's from crossings at places like Miramachi and Sackville. We kept in touch with her and she with all by text and picture from across the country, a marvel of modern communication.

Long ago we switched to electronic billing.

Our Letter Carrier should thank us, because the invoice for the first month of unlimited usage was 144 pdf pages, with Thing One setting the new household record of 88 pages on her own.

I am thankful for unlimited usage packages, and my cell carrier is shaking its head.

I'm betting Wyoming Dad wishes he had gotten an unlimited deal.

DJW

DJ has two daughters with very strong thumbs.