Token Chicks

Wow, it's been over two weeks since I have updated my blog. It's been crazy at work and it has been a physically and mentally draining month thus the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of the computer even longer and think of a blog to write.

Film festival premiere of "Stranger than Fiction" was great. Loved the movie. It was very exciting to sit really close to the stage and see Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson in person (photo is of Emma arriving the Elgin Theatre in Toronto for the premiere) She was gorgeous and he (Dustin) was hilarious. JB(a huge Dustin Hoffman fan) wrote a blurb about our encounter with Dustin when he and the other actors were exiting the theatre. Dustin looked at us and said "thanks for having us in your city. It's a beautiful city and a great film fest". At one point just before the movie was to start. JMan's wife looked down from our balcony seat and said to me "is that Demi Moore sitting there?" I stood up a bit from my seat and peered over the balcony to check out the thin, tanned woman in a really expensive long black dress with long dark perfectly coiffed straight hair, gorgeous shoes on sitting with her legs crossed, nervously bouncing her foot up and down and CHEWING GUM LIKE A COW CHEWING IT'S CUD!! sitting beside her was a guy dressed in a corduroy jacket, jeans, running shoes and a baseball cap which was pretty much covering his face. I assume it was Aston Kutcher.

I have been playing my usual weekly golf game each week which kept me sane as well as my weekly lessons with Espinoza,Lee and JB. Two weeks ago I played in my first golf tournament and won two trophies! One trophy was for closest to the pin for ladies and one for longest drive for ladies. I must say that the trophies were a bit of a given as the other women playing in the tournament were not regular golfers. All the same, it was nice to A/ play a round of golf at a championship course for free and B/ take a day off work to play with some co-workers.

I love the egos of some of the male players when they see a woman arrive with her own clubs and golf gear on. They sit at the starters box and wait to watch you tee off. So of course I had to try my utmost to make my first drive look really good. It gets even more hilarious when you stop for a lunch break between the front 9 and the back 9. You meet up with the players ahead of you and the group behind you and chat and ask how each others game is going and then you encounter that one male. You ladies who golf know what male I am talking about. The group behind us had one of THOSE males. You know the ones who have to talk and talk everything up as god forbid anyone think or know that he isn't as good as anyone else on the planet. Any woman who plays golf has encountered this species of male more times than we care to remember and we have all had the following conversation with this male and usually it occurs after they have seen you swing and watched your drive from the first tee. Since buddy was in the foursome behind us, he saw a few of my drives and shots. Here's how the conversation goes, it doesn't alter much from golf course, city, country.

Insecure Male Golfer: "So, how often do you golf"

Female Golfer (me): "I dunno, about once a week minimum sometimes two times a week"

Insecure Male Golfer: "well really! That's great you can get out that often" (as if I should be home vacuuming or cleaning or doing the laundry instead)

Female Golfer (me): "ya, it's important to play this game regularly or you just won't get good at it"

Then comes the classic male ego boosting, chest thumping boast:

Insecure Male Golfer: "yep, well I don't get out that often and this year I have been so busy and have not had the time to play as much as I would like. How's your game today. You know, back at the eighth hole I had a great drive ball went 240 yards, my score is great today not too many bogies"

Female Golfer (me) rushing to get out to start the next 9 holes: "wow, good for you. Enjoy the rest of your lunch. See you at the awards ceremony later today, good luck on the back 9"

As I was walking out of the clubhouse with my co-worker Tony, who is actually a very good golfer but with no ego or sexism when it comes to golf. I whispered "My ass he drove the ball 240 yards. I saw his swing" Tony just laughed and said "I know, I know, what are you going to do" What amazes me is that "Mr 240 yards" didn't appear to drive far enough on the 7 hole as he didn't win any trophy for longest drive or closest to the pin.

I regularly read "Golf for Women" magazine and one of my favorite regular columns is the "What's Bugging Me Now" column written by Senior Editor Stina Sternberg. This months column is a classic example of discrimination against women in the golf world. Article is included below and link to the Magazines version is here:

What's Bugging Me Now

On a recent Sunday, a friend invited me to play golf at her club in the New York area. My friend is a new member at this club--she spent a half-dozen years on a waiting list and paid a lot of money to join--and I was excited to play there. She told me we had to tee off in the afternoon, because the opening-day tournament was being played in the morning.

I asked my friend why she hadn't signed up for the tournament--after all, she was new at the club and trying to get to know people. She also plays to a 3-handicap and might have had a shot at winning the trophy. "It's just for guys," she told me. I asked when the women's opening-day tournament was being held, because, surely, she'd be a lock for that. "There isn't one," she said. There isn't one? At this modern-day country club, a woman is welcome to spend the equivalent of a hefty down payment on a house to join--and to wait patiently for six years to be allowed to play--but because of her physical anatomy, she's not welcome in the opening-day tournament? Even a low-single-digit handicap woman who plays from the white tees and would have easily beaten half the field of male players?

It's time for the clubs to wake up and realize that we're not living in the 1950s. Women work, women play good golf and women should have the same privileges as men. If not, we should get some of our fees and dues back. Because last time I checked, we're not getting any discounts for being discriminated against

Quote of the Day:

(About Annika Sorenstam on the men's tour) "I hope she misses the cut. Why? Because she doesn't belong out here."

Vijay Singh (Fijian golfer)

Overture, hit the lights......

drrrrrum roll,.....Well, it's that time of year. Roll out the red carpets and slap on some glitter: The 31st edition of the Toronto International Film Festival kicks off tonight. For the next nine days, the city will be swarming with Hollywood heavies, international auteurs and A-list celebrities. Of course with A-list celebrities you also get hordes of celebrity hounds infiltrating the downtown/Yorkville area of the city. These "autograph hounds" will make their way in to the city in droves particularly on weekends where they will tie up traffic, pedestrian traffic included and generally cause disruptions to our lives. In particular JB and I will more than likely NOT get into our usual breakfast diner that we head to on weekends. These celeb hounds and wanna be seen losers apparently have nothing better to do than go on an neverending quest for that potential brief glimpse of Brad Pitt, who is supposedly arriving on Saturday night, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Gwyneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie etc etc. JB wrote about one of his favorite actors in his blog yesterday and has hilarious photos of the lengths he is going to ensure he is not photographed. I almost feel sorry for the these poor, pampered celebs as apparently the majority of these movie stars love coming to Toronto. They like this city and love the film festival and usually the majority of Torontonians are not that star struck anymore thus they get left alone. Unfortunately, in recent years as the festival has grown it has gotten a bit haywire and we are descended upon by autograph seekers, paparazzi and all the other "accoutrements" that follow movie stars. I remember one September a few years back. JB and I waked into the bar at the Four Seasons Hotel in Yorkville, during film fest. The walk through Yorkville was our route home from work and we would stop in at that bar or a couple of other bars in the neighborhood. Anyway, there right in front of us sitting by himself enjoying a beer was Liam Neeson. I whispered to Jim, "wow, that's Liam Neeson sitting over there" JB responded "cool" we then walked to our own spot in the bar and along with all the other patrons in the bar we LEFT HIM ALONE. I doubt this would happen now. The entire area of Yorkville is just packed with people milling about with their photos, DVD's and other things to have signed by their favorite movie star.

What I do find even more annoying/entertaining than the celeb hounds and paparazzi are the hilarious antics of the "serious film fest goers" and so called "journalists". These people walk around with their Festival Pass around their neck everywhere they go as if it is some sort of status symbol or as one would wear a gold Gucci necklace or a rolex watch. They sit in the restaurant patios around Yorkville or walk along Bloor street with their haughty "yes, I am important, look at me I have a pass around my neck for the film fest" attitude. With their film fest guide in hand they sit and look to see who is looking at them and those passes DO NOT come off. I sometimes wonder if these people wear their festival passes to bed. They stand in line at one of our regular breakfast/ diner spots with their passes in clear view along with their pens and note pads as if to suggest that their film pass should grant them a table faster than the rest of us waiting in line. They all sit and name drop and constantly seem to use the word "milieu" in sentences.

Now, JB and I are both movie lovers and despite my bitching about the hassles the film festival brings. We are lucky enough to attend at least one showing each year as we get comps for a festival premiere either through work connections or a friend. We have been lucky enough to see Michael Moore in person when he presented his film "Bowling for Columbine". One year we were able to see the premiere for the film "Love Actually" and were sitting just above Colin Firth and Laura Linney in the lovely Elgin/Winter Garden theatre(photo above) One of the reasons I do like attending the premieres is because I love sitting in the Elgin/Winter Garden theatre. This theatre was recently completely restored back to its original beauty. It is the last operating double decker theatre complex in the world, containing two completely separate and restored Edwardian theatres. It is now a National Historic Site owned and operated by the Ontario Heritage Foundation. One of the Centre's greatest treasures, discovered during the restoration, is the world's largest collection of vaudeville scenery hand-painted flats and drops dating from 1913. If you are planning a visit to Toronto there are free tours of the theatre provided during the week and on weekends. It is a gorgeous building and for years it sat empty and unused. Thankfully it has been restored to its former beauty.

This year we are attending the premiere of the new Will Ferrell and Emma Thompson flick "Stranger than Fiction". When I saw the preview/trailer for this flick a month ago I thought it looked great and thought "ya, that's a movie Iwould go see" So, I was really happy when our friend JayMan e mailed me on Tuesday morning and said "hey, are you guys free on Saturday night as I have four tickets for a Festival Premiere."

Check out the trailer. And no, I won't be bringing my DVD copy of Sense and Sensibility for Emma Thompson to sign.

Stranger than Fiction

Quote of the Day:
“Celebrity-worship and hero-worship should not be confused. Yet we confuse them every day, and by doing so we come dangerously close to depriving ourselves of all real models. We lose sight of the men and women who do not simply seem great because they are famous but are famous because they are great. We come closer and closer to degrading all fame into notoriety.”
Daniel J. Boorstin

Albert Speer is alive and well and living in Dubai

Today I was doing my usual surfing around "the net" and from my previous blogs y'all know what that means. I end up on a wacky circuitous drive down the internet highway and I never know where I am going to end up.

Having just watched the amazing Spike Lee documentary "When the Levees Broke" this past weekend. I decided to see what some of my favorite "non-right wing" news websites were writing about on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina sinking New Orleans. Rewinding a bit, if you can get the chance to see Spike Lee's documentary, I suggest you watch it. It is an incredible piece and I think one of his best works ever. It is at times heartbreaking to watch. I had to keep getting up to find kleenex. The interviews with famous jazz musicians, leaders, black leaders, regular people on the street, are so incredible it will put you through a whole range of emotions. You will find yourself shaking your head and wondering why on earth and how on earth GW Bush is still President of the US.

Anyway......I thought to myself "hmmm, I should check out "Mother Jones" site as I have not checked it out in a while. I was reading the "special coverage" page on Katrina and deciding on which of the articles to read first when out of the corner of my eye I noticed an animated "ad" for another Mother Jones article.
What caught me was the catch phrases to get you to click on the animation and take you to the article: "Worlds largest theme park....Biggest Mall.....Tallest Building.....Despotic Ruler....Indentured Labour.....Dubai....Welcome to Paradise" these words are animated across the artistic rendering of what the Dubai skyline will look like in 2008 when the 'Burj Dubai' (worlds tallest building) is completed by 2008 . Now, I don't mind if Sheik Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum wants to invest and spend gazillions of his dollars to build a city that is essentially Disney World in the dessert or as the article suggests putting up buildings like "Donald Trump tripping on acid" but I do mind the not so nice reality of that old 18th century thinking that indentured labour is okay. Even more shocking the use of women as sex slaves and the use of child labour. As the article states: Dubai lifestyles are attended by vast numbers of Filipina, Sri Lankan, and Indian maids, while the building boom is carried on the shoulders of an army of poorly paid Pakistanis and Indians working twelve-hour shifts, six and half days a week, in the blast-furnace desert heat.
Dubai, like its neighbors, flouts ILO labor regulations and refuses to adopt the international Migrant Workers Convention. Human Rights Watch in 2003 accused the Emirates of building prosperity on "forced labor." Indeed, as the British Independent recently emphasized in an exposé on Dubai, "The labour market closely resembles the old indentured labour system brought to Dubai by its former colonial master, the British."
"Like their impoverished forefathers," the paper continued, "today's Asian workers are forced to sign themselves into virtual slavery for years when they arrive in the United Arab Emirates. Their rights disappear at the airport where recruitment agents confiscate their passports and visas to control them"

Can it be true or is it just another attempt by the lefties and left wing media to bring down yet another succesful businessman? Cause, according to the Sheiks own website, where you can read his poetry and share his "vision" (he appears to be marketing himself as the Anthony Robbins of the Middle East) it states: Through leadership, vision and innovation, Sheikh Mohammed hopes to guide the people of Dubai, the United Arab Emirates and, indeed, the Middle East, toward a brighter future. That's great! This guy can't possibly be the ruler of a country that is abusing workers as all the investigative reporting states. How can it be so. I will let you read the article and check out the Sheiks website yourself and draw your own conclusions. I can only say that I am leaning toward the "left wing media" on this one. The ending paragraph of the article says it best.... "Yet the future that he is building in Dubai -- to the applause of billionaires and transnational corporations everywhere -- looks like nothing so much as a nightmare of the past: Walt Disney meets Albert Speer on the shores of Araby."

I do want to throw a big "F---K YOU" to the likes of Rod Stewart and David Beckham for supporting this despot (David Beckham owns a beach front property on Dubai and Rod Stewart, an island (rumored, in fact, to be named Great Britain)). I guess they both really, really, really, want to forget their working class British upbringing. You would hope that when folks like that start making oodles of cash that they would try to remember where they came from and do something to make the world a better place rather then supporting a country where there is forced labour and forced child labour to boot. Ooooops, guess I just gave away which way my thinking really is leaning towards on this issue, as if there was a doubt.


Quote of the Day:

Cowardice asks the question, 'Is it safe?' Expediency asks the question,
'Is it politic?' But conscience asks the question, 'Is it right?' And there
comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic,
nor popular but because conscience tells one it is right.”

Martin Luther King Jr.

Do you wanna go faaaaaaaastah!!!!!!

It's August and it's a few weeks before the September Labour Day weekend. In Toronto that means it is time for the CNE or Canadian National Exhibition. Torontonian's, who seem to shorten all names refer to the CNE simply as "the Ex".

Out of the blue I ended up at "the Ex" on Monday evening as JB's Sports Network sets up an interactive booth for kids at the CNE (the ol' get them hooked on a brand while their young, marketing angle) As JB works in Public Relations for said network, he was down there to make sure things were running smoothly. He suggested I meet him after work and we have dinner.

If you are from Toronto or you have been to Toronto in August you have more than likely walked through the Princes Gates (photo above) to enter the CNE, many, many times. While I was waiting for JB to meet me at the Princes Gates. I stood there looking at how lovely they are and looking at the details and all the carvings and the fountains on the side. The gates were opened in 1927 by H.R.H. Edward, Prince of Wales and his brother, Prince George. The Princes' Gates have become a symbol of the Canadian National Exhibition. The nine pillars on either side of the centre arch of the gates represent the participating provinces of Confederation (Newfoundland joined Confederation in 1949) of Canada. The figure at the top of the arch, Nike the "Goddess of Winged Victory," is a much loved Toronto sculpture. Torontonians were very, very upset and worried when Nike was taken down in the late 1980's for repairs and cleaning. She was returned to her rightful place on top of the gates looking eastward over the city skyline. The Princes' Gates were designated as historically significant under the Ontario Heritage Act.

The Ex is a tradition for many families. The Ex was founded in 1879 to encourage the development of agriculture, manufacturing, industry, commerce and the arts. It is now the largest annual fair in Canada and the fifth largest in North American with an average attendance of 1.3 million visitors annually.(got that from their "history of the ex" page). I remember as a small child my parents taking us every summer to the CNE. As I walked through the gates on Monday night a flood of memories came over me. As a kid the start of the CNE was always a bittersweet time because you knew when the Ex started you were 3 weeks away from school starting! You would go with your CNE pass which was handed out with your final report card each summer and immediately head for the midway to ride on the rides. I have a vivid memory of being very small and riding on one of children's rides on the Midway. It was a floating ride with little boats on a spoke that went around in a circle at a very low rate of speed, but as a 4 year old it seemed pretty fast. You had your own steering wheel and each little boat had their own bell that you could ring. I can still see my Dad smiling and waving at me each time I went around in my own little speed boat while my Dad motioned to me to ring the bell. Scattered throughout the grounds of the CNE are numerous buildings each designated for a specific purpose during the exhibition. Many of them are now designated heritage buildings as they were built from the late 1800's onward. The "Better Living Centre" was where all the latest appliances would be showcased. I remember my parents going there to check out the latest models in vacuum cleaners one summer. Sadly, now "The Better Living Centre" is more like a huge dollar store with booths showcasing all those "as seen on TV" products.

The Automotive building was where all the latest models of cars were showcased but Toronto now has a huge auto show in February each year. Now the Automotive Building houses the "Farm,Food and Fun" exhibit. The farm exhibits used to be housed in, you guessed it, "The Agricultural Building" which seems to be used for a different purpose this year. Beside the Agricultural Building is the Horse Palace. Being an ex equestrian, I used to spend a lot of time in the Horse Palace during the CNE. My Mother and I would go down a few times to watch the various horse competitions. They do seem to have horse "related" shows going on there but they have strayed a bit from the usual hunter/jumper and dressage competitions.

What I found fascinating while walking around the CNE on Monday night was how much the food building has changed. When I was a kid it was where you went for tons of free samples of candy and soda pop. It would be where the various big name food manufacturers would introduce their latest products. There was never any "ethnic" food at the food building. How times have changed. These days the food building fare has changed to reflect the more multicultural population of Toronto. But don't panic, you can still get Tiny Tom doughnuts and H. Salt Fish and Chips (my mothers favorite CNE snack) As I ventured into the Food Building on my quest for my CNE fix of a tray of curly fries. I noticed all sorts of different food kiosks now selling all sorts of ethnic fare Greek food, Indian food, Lebanese food,West Indian food. JB queued up for a shawarma which he said was excellent. I chuckled and thought when I was a kid the food building was where you could get fries, fish and chips, sausages and the most "exotic" dish you could get was a bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce for a dollar. Now you can get tandoori chicken and head over to the cheesecake stand and get a capuccino and a slice of cheesecake for dessert.

The Bandshell is still there but the music has changed from when the old swing bands from the 1930's and 1940's would play there. It was built as a replica to the Hollywood Bowl, in the 1930's. This summer the Bandshell's attraction is a show called "Hollywood-The Movie Song Show" where you can watch live performers sing, along with dancers and visual props of your favorite movie. You HAVE to check out the link that "showcases" this show. I could not stop laughing but then hey, the show IS free with your admission to the Ex.

I have not been to the Ex in quite a few years and it brought back a lot of memories as I walked through the gates. It was kind of comforting to see that it really hasn't changed that much yet it has changed a lot and truly reflects the multicultural population of Toronto. It is wonderful that all the old buildings are still there and are used and maintained. I can't say I would go every year as I used to when I was younger and like most Torontonian's we may not go every year but we would probably fight tooth and nail to ensure that the CNE went on each year.

I do have a hankering to head to the midway again and climb on the "Polar Express" and fly around in a circle so fast that the centrifugal force squishes you into the person you are sitting with while the music is blaring and the ride operator screams through the microphone "do you want to go faaaaaaaster!!!"

JB is back at the booth on the weekend so perhaps I will trek down again and meet him for lunch hit the polar express and get a belgian waffle ice cream and sit by the Princess Margaret fountain and watch a new generation of youth experience this end of summer CNE tradition.

Quote of the Day:

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

Samuel Ullman

Panthera Tigris Sumatrae

I decided to check out my mutual fund results this morning as they have been taking a beating the past couple of months. I was happy to see that they are climbing up again. My mutual funds are with AGF. This company uses a Tiger as their logo, stay with me...The Toronto Zoo has two new Sumatran baby tiger cubs and AGF, out of the goodness of their Corporate hearts (i am sure not because of the advertising it will give them) has funded "The AGF Baby Tiger cam" it is pretty cool and fascinating to watch the Mother tiger, Brytne, and her two cubs,yet to be named. As Blake Goldring,President of AGF, states on the Toronto Zoo website "Through the Tiger-Cam we can witness the previously hidden world of one of nature's most endangered animals, the Sumatran Tiger. Please come back and visit often - these cubs are growing and changing - in front of our very eyes!" Thanks Blake and hopefully your fund advisors at AGF are constantly on the look out for environmentally friendly and responsible companies with which to invest our money with. Makes me sad that we can't have a web cam in Sumatra where we can watch Sumatran Tigers frolic in their natural habitat! I just checked the web cam and Mother tiger is giving one of the cubs a bath...


Quote for today:

If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen.

Henry David Thoreau

Kobayashi Maru (for you trekkies, keep reading)

Bless this house O Lord we pray; Make it safe by night and day;
Bless these walls so firm and stout, Keeping want and trouble out:
Bless the roof and chimneys tall, Let thy peace lie over all;
Bless this door, that it may prove ever open to joy and love.

Apoligies but todays blog is a bit of a mish mash of things.

First off, Yes!! the roof is finally finished. The "roofers" showed up on Saturday afternoon to finish the job. I was so happy it made me think of the old hymn "Bless this House" which my Grandfather used to sing sometimes. It was a very popular hymn in the 1920's and 1930's. I was tempted to find a recording of the hymn and play the one line "bless this roof......" over and over again until the roofers left.

The weekend was not as relaxing as I had planned. My Saturday morning golf game with Espinoza and EL was great, very relaxing and a good work out. My friend Zahur joined we three ladies and it is always entertaining when Zahur joins us. Zahur is the type of person who is never stressed, always calm and laid back and he always has hilarious stories to tell us, in his cool African, British accent. Zahur loves golf and is one of those players who never gets stressed or upset. He keeps everyone else relaxed during the long 18 hole journey of the golf game. Zahur reminds me of Yul Brynner from the Ten Commandments. He has the same shaved head and speaks the same way as Yul (even though Yul was not African). When I sms'd Zahur and said we need a fourth for golf on Saturday he said to me with a flourish a la Yul "Then, I shall be your fourth!" not many guys use the word "shall" these days.

While I was out golfing, JB was at the Toronto Beer Festival (he wrote about it in his blog today, photos included) I had the rest of the day to do what I wanted. I decided to go grocery shopping and pick up some items and get something to BBQ and then hit the liquor store for some wine and then go home and relax. I had every intention of pouring myself a nice Leffe beer and reading the new Vanity Fair Magazine, out on our back patio alas, when I drove up to the house, I noticed the familiar white van of the roofers. I just wanted to sit out in the back and relax and read a magazine but the hammering and other noises was making me crazy. It was even worse when they brought out the flame thrower to melt the tar to attach the sealant to a portion of the house that has a flat roof on it. I decided to go inside and close all the windows and prep dinner.

On Sunday, JB and I went for our weekly golf lesson and then got home to find the roofers back at work, doing last minute fix ups and cleaning up all the debris. Once they left, we decided to go to Golf Town as they are having a huge clearance sale. I got a great deal on a 56 degree approach wedge (you golfers will know what that is)in an "oil can" finish and we both got a great deal on two bag carts. It saves us renting a cart each time we go and play.the cart in the photo is the model we bought. It has some nice extras such as the tee holders, ball holders and water bottle holder, not to mention the holder for the scorecard and pencil! This is most important as it is a pain to continually be pulling out the score card from your pocket or golf bag and then searching for a pencil to input everyone's score after each hole. Back at home JB unpacked the carts and put them both together. I was called and emailed about work issues on and off all day on Sunday.

Sunday night my brother arrived home and noticed the roof finished and the debris all cleaned up and quipped "oh, have our lodgers finally moved out?"

Back at work today and thankfully my Director is back! This afternoon, I got into a discussion with one of my co-workers about those annoying "team building" posters that are sold from the store "Successories" I am sure you have all seen them before. The posters with the beautifully photographed nature scenes or sports scenes with the requisite statements such as "A positive attitude is a powerful force. It can't be stopped!".....well, some bright person has developed their own "successories" poster campaign utilizing old stills from the old Star Trek series... There are three pages of these hilarious "motivational posters" one of my favorites is the one below. The caption states "I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am." I just can't stop laughing!














Celtic Chancers update: The boys are close to the border of Kazakhstan and Mongolia. Their latest message: "slept in car in field 2 sound of horse size dogs barking. Woke 2 sound of cow eating wing mirror. Had breakfast with local farmer & flies." (if confused see previous blog "From London to Ulaan Bataar")


Quote for Today:

Today's quote is for our a**hole Canadian Prime Minister who apparently could not attend the rather large AIDS conference happening in Toronto this week. His "people" are saying that it could not fit into his calendar. It appears the likes of Bill Clinton, 1000's of dignitaries from all over the world including numerous women from Africa fighting to get much needed drugs to their countries, does not make our Prime Minister CLUE IN, that perhaps he should have attended the opening ceremonies with the other dignitaries from all over the world. I am embarrassed and disgusted that this man is our Prime Minister and every Canadian should remember this come election day! (Ii never voted for the boob to begin with so my conscience is clear!)

great revolution in just one single individual will help achieve a change in the destiny of a society and, further, will enable a change in the destiny of humankind.

Daisaku Ikeda - Japanese Peace Activist

The Frazzled Female

Man am I jealous of my sister who is on a beach in Phuket, Thailand for three weeks!

This week has been brutal for me. Although this week was a short week due to last weekend being a long holiday weekend, trust me it felt looooooong. Not sure if it is due to some wacky alignment of the planets or if the moon is full but people are NUTS this week. To add to the zaniness my Director is off on vacation and she asked me to be Acting Director.

Anything that could go wrong this week did. From the wee bit of family drama on the weekend with helping JB's sister move herself and the niece and nephew out of the house she shared with her husband and the children's father. To the monosyllabic, low IQ roofers hired to put a new roof on our house this week. Not to mention the insane outages and bizarre incidents at work this week.

The move on the weekend went fairly smoothly. JB's two friends Jayman and RB came up to help with the move and Sis and kiddies seem reasonably adjusted to their new space. Unfortunately our roof is not progressing as smoothly. The roof work was started last week and is not finished yet. They can't finish til next week because one of the so called "tradesmen" shot himself in the foot with the air gun used to shoot nails into the new roof tiles and secure them to said roof. I wondered about their competency as roofers when they showed up to start their roofing job at 3 pm in the afternoon the first day and then were outside working in the dark of night sweeping and cleaning up the mess they made during the afternoon because they did not hire a bin to throw all the debris in. When I questioned why there was no bin, i was told "oh don't worry, we have a dump truck coming to pick up the debris" The last straw was when they showed up at 6:45pm on Sunday. That's when I lost it and snapped "are you actually planning to start work and disturb us on the Sunday evening of a long weekend? and just how does it take FIVE days to put a roof on a house??" Suffice to say, I did not hire these roofers and did not pay for them. If I had they would have been sent packing and a more reputable roofing company would be called to finish the job.

On to the next crisis: this morning I awakened to my Brother swearing like there is no tomorrow. Intrigued as to what would have him swear more than normal,as he can swear with the best of them, I ventured down stairs to the basement kitchen to find him straddling the drain in the floor with a plunger trying to plunge the backed up sewer water back down the drain in the floor. I simply sighed, look up towards heaven and found myself quoting my Fathers favorite coping mantra "these little things are all sent to try us" With my brother using every swear word known to man with each plunge and each plunge getting a different swear word all it's own, I finally said to him "look, stop, some of the water has subsided" I washed the floor with anti bacterial floor cleaner and told him I would call a plumber and ask to have the drain snaked. I then realized that I had to be at work for a meeting. Had a shower, got ready, called a cab and was sent quite possibly the worst cab driver in Toronto. It was particularly nice when he started clearing his throat only to hork up a loogie and spit it out the driver side window towards oncoming traffic. I thought to myself "Yep, today is going to be a great day!!" It was not to be, work was insane. I e mailed JB and said "day from hell" to which he responded "that means what time for pick up?" I sent back "ASAP"

JB picked me up, got home,stepped over all the roofing debris neatly piled waiting for the mysterious dump truck to come and retrieve it. I called Brother's Plumbing asked how much to unclog a basement drain was quoted a reasonable rate and said "can you send someone now" A nice chap arrived snaked the drain and all is back to normal. I washed the floor, again, with PineSol to kill any germs that may have been sitting in the overflow water and all is back to normal in the basement. Man that bottle of Pinot Grigio we had with dinner was finished fast!!!

Let's just say that I am looking forward to this weekend. I am not on call and I have all my fingers and toes crossed in the hopes I will not be called for an escalation requiring the Operations Director. Coglero was supposed to be our houseguest this weekend as he was going to drive in from Ottawa and he and JB were heading to the Toronto Beer Festival which is why, as my previous blog states, we couldn't head to Fergus this weekend. Alas, poor Coglero is feeling under the weather and has placed himself on some bizarre cleansing diet. Coglero or no Coglero JB is not missing out on the Beer Festival. I decided to take a pass on the Beer Fest this year as I find I seem to just stand at the Guinness booth and down Guinness samples then move to the Stella booth and then back to the Guinness booth. I never seem to walk around and try the other beers. Rather than attend beer fest with the boys, my girlfriends Espinoza and EL have booked an 8am tee time for Saturday. There is nothing like a nice early morning golf game to make you forget about the week that passed. How can you feel stressed when surrounded by nature and such lovely vistas.
The photo is of the 13th hole at Four Seasons Golf Club located just north of Toronto. We are very excited because we found out that Four Seasons actually means just that open all four seasons! They keep the course open ALL YEAR. You can play nine holes on the course in the winter. I expect they have a blizzard rule in effect but we are game to try and play golf in our polartec turtlenecks! Anything is better than hitting balls inside as we are normally stuck doing during the long Canadian winter.


Quote of the day:

Difficulties strengthen the mind, as labor does the body. Seneca

Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',

If you grew up in Canada,with ex-pat Scottish parents as I did, doubtless you were brought up in an environment so Scottish you felt more Scottish than Canadian. From a very young age my sister and I were sent for Scottish dance lessons. My Mother belonged to the RSCDS, belonged to the SNP (they have tons of supporters in Canada) and was also a member, and for a short time, the conductor of the Toronto Gaelic Choir. I was so involved in Scottish dancing, Scottish events and Scottish shows, Scottish dance competitions that I began to think it weird to see a man in any other form of clothing but the kilt. My father would constantly educate us on the history and culture of Scotland. The struggles, the wars, the clearances, the beauty of the country and how we should be proud to have such a heritage and history to look back on and to never forget our ancestors and the past.

The Scottish culture is so much a part of the heritage and foundation of Canada it is hard to escape it. In Nova Scotia (New Scotland) the road signs in some towns are in English and Gaelic. Here in Ontario, you have access to tons of Scottish Festivals that promote the culture, food and of course drink of Scotland. There is a Burn's Society, RSCDS chapters across Canada, a St. Andrew's Society, the lists of Scottish related societies are endless. The St. Andrew's Society, here in Toronto, was founded in 1836. Scots who had already established themselves in this new city set out to assist immigrant Scots just arriving here. Over the years the St. Andrew's Society has maintained a keen interest in its people and its mandate. These days they have expanded their charitable endeavours through the legacy of the St. Andrew's Charitable Foundation.

My parents came to Toronto in the mid 1950's along with many of their friends and acquaintances, from Glasgow. But they never, ever lost their love for Scotland. They never forgot where they came from. The pull from their Motherland was strong. They never let us forget our heritage and it was the same for most of the families that came here. It is a testament to the power of the land and the culture and probably the reason the English were never able to stamp it out, no matter how hard they tried. If anything it only made it even more prevalent all over the world. Sure, you can clear the Scots off their land and try and ban their pipes and kilts and tartans but it wont work, you only make the culture stronger. As proof, there are chapters of the RSCDS in Tokyo and La Paz, Bolivia! There are pipe bands from all over the four corners of the earth.


My Scottish culture rant today is all due to the fact that this upcoming weekend is one of the best and largest Scottish festivals of the summer here in Canada. People come from all over and congregate in the little town of Fergus, Ontario for the 3 day Fergus Scottish Festival and Highland Games. I was hoping to make it up to Fergus this weekend as I was in the mood to see some pipe bands, sheep dog trials and some highland dance competitions and of course the heavy competition. Nothing like watching a huge guy in a kilt toss a telephone pole over on its end. Alas we have other plans this weekend which I agreed to without realizing they fell upon the same weekend as the games.

Next years Fergus weekend is already blocked off in my calendar. JB will be even more indoctrinated into the Scottish culture. He has mentioned a desire to see the sheep dog trials as he is amazed at the talent of the Scottish collies. I must say, JB does get extra Kudos for donning a tux and taking me to the St. Andrew's Ball when we were first dating, years ago. That was just a full on assault of "Scottishness" (i know it's not a word)! He even ate the haggis, tatties and nips second course and didn't complain at all, must have had something to do with the fact he loves malt whisky and it was flowing at the Ball. I have noticed in subsequent years that he has taken a wee bit less haggis each year, when the serving platter comes his way. The Ball is held every November and the 48th Highlanders provide the music and the entertainment for the evening. Won't get JB in a kilt yet, he prefers the tux.


A Celtic Chancers update:. The tracking page shows them reaching the Kyrgyzstan border.


Quotes of the Day:

For that is the mark of the Scots of all classes:
that he stands in an attitude towards the past
unthinkable to Englishmen, and remembers and
cherishes the memory of his forebears, good or
bad; and there burns alive in him a sense of identity
with the dead even to the twentieth generation.

Robert Louis Stevenson

We look to Scotland for all our ideas of civilisation.

Voltaire

Me and Thurman

I meant to post this on the actual date but did not have the time to sit and write a reasonable blog about Thurman.

Two days ago, on August 2nd, it was the anniversary of the death of Thurman Munson. Thurman was the great New York Yankee catcher who died at age 32 in an airplane crash.

I take a lot of flack here in TO (Toronto) for being a Yankee fan. I endure comments like "you traitor, you should be supporting the Toronto Blue Jays", "you are just on the Yankee bandwagon" or my favorite "Sure, you just like the Yankees cause Derek Jeter is cute" The last comment always makes me laugh because ya, you got me, because the only reason a woman could POSSIBLY watch baseball is because of one cute player.

My sister and I being born in the mid to late 1960's grew up as children without a Toronto Blue Jays. We did not have a baseball team in Toronto when we were kids. Being less than 2 hours from the New York State border, we watched Yankee game feeds. My sister had her black NY Yankees baseball cap and we would love to watch the play off games with our Dad. Dad would explain the rules of the game, helped us appreciate the sport and respect the history of the game. My Dad would tell us about the great players of the 1940's and 1950's and about the struggles of the black players and the wonderful history of Baseball. He read a lot about baseball history and would tell us all the funny road trip stories he had read about from the 1920's onward.

My Dad was a Thurman fan,and a Yankee fan for years. To me, Thurman just looked like a baseball player. When you watched him play you knew he was focused on nothing else but wining that game for his team.

Thurman Munson was a member of the New York Yankees for 11 years and has been called one of the greatest catchers of the 1970s. He joined the Yankees in 1968 and a year later he was their starting catcher. The '69 season was a dark spot in an otherwise glorious history for the Yankees. It was the year following the retirement of Yankee legend Mickey Mantle whose skills, along with the Yankees performance as a team, were in a steady decline. That decline hit rock bottom in the summer of '69 as the Yankees were without a true superstar for the first time in their existence. When Babe Ruth slowed down, Lou Gehrig was there to carry the torch, who passed it on to Joe DiMaggio, who had subsequently passed it on to Mantle. There did not seem to be an heir to the torch until a stocky young catcher from Canton, Ohio was called up from the minors during the tail end of that terrible season.

He started his career by winning the 1970 American League Rookie of the Year award when he batted a .302. His intense attitude, sharp thinking and leadership soon earned him the position of team captain. The first captain of the team since Lou Gehrig had passed away in 1941. He also earned three Gold Gloves due to his defensive playing abilities behind home plate. In 1976 he won the Most Valuable Player award for hitting .302 and 105 RBI's. During his span with the Yankees he led them to three American League pennants and two World Championships. Thurman Munson had many uncomplimentary nicknames reflecting his unimpressive physique rather than his baseball skills, among them "Squatty Boy" and "Jelly Belly." He was supposedly insecure, often irascible man noted for being difficult with umpires and media. He felt he was unfairly overshadowed by star catchers like Johnny Bench and Carlton Fisk (their rift was well known), he once dropped three third strikes in a game so he could throw to first base and pad his assists total. Brash and cocky, Munson was a most untypical rookie. Once he told veteran second baseman Willie Randolph, "Relax, I like you."

By 1979, however, the strain of catching was taking its toll on Munson's body. In constant pain, he sometimes found it difficult to crouch behind the plate. Yet he remained a superb catcher whose mere presence and tenacity got the best out of his pitchers. Yankees ace Ron Guidry always insisted Munson deserved half the credit for the left-hander's Cy Young Award season of 1978 (25-3, 1.74 ERA, nine shutouts). "I went the whole year never shaking him off one time," Guidry once recalled. "He always knew exactly when to say something and when to shut up. I don't remember him ever chewing [teammates out] and pointing fingers [during a slump]. He'd just say, 'We're not playing as a team we're better than this.' "

From 1975 through 1977, Munson hit over .300 and drove in at least 100 runs a season while averaging just 16 homers-and catching 387 games. By 1976, the Yankees were back in the World Series, swept by the Reds. New York got 30 hits. Munson had nine of them. But in 1977 and 1978, Munson Yankees won it all. Rewarded both with triumph and gold, Munson bought a small airplane. Thurman always wanted to be close to the town he grew up in, Canton, Ohio. He wanted his family to live there. In an effort to get himself home faster during off time he decided to purchase the Cessna and learn how to fly. His love for piloting always made Yankee owner George Steinbrenner nervous. Munson was still a rookie pilot and the day he died he was practising landings and take offs in his Cessna. He had spent less than 40 hours in the air with his new jet. On August 2nd, the Cessna plane stalled while landing, scraped some trees and crashed into a cornfield with its wings shorn off. Two other passengers, a friend and a flight instructor, survived and began attempting to drag Munson from the wreckage. He was calling for help when jet fuel leaked and the plane exploded. Munson's body was so badly burned that he had to be identified by dental records. He had a broken jaw, a broken rib, a bloody nose and a bruised heart among other injuries.

At the request of Munson's widow, Diane, the Yankees played the Orioles the next night as scheduled. It was probably the most emotional occasion at Yankee Stadium since the fatally stricken Gehrig's famed farewell ("I am the luckiest man on the face of the Earth") July 4, 1939. The Yankees lost 1-0, but probably most of the crowd of 51,151 didn't care or even notice. Before the game, the Yankees stood at attention as a portrait of Munson appeared on the video screen. Players had their heads bowed, and they were crying. It was horrible. To this day I remember watching that game. It was heartbreaking to watch Munson's best friend Lou Piniella standing weeping on the field. I was crying, my Father was crying and my Mother was crying.

Three days later, on Aug. 6, the Yankees chartered a plane to attend Munson's funeral in Ohio, where Munson's best friends and team mates Bobby Murcer and Lou Piniella delivered eulogies. "The league told us if we didn't get back for that night´s game, we'd have to forfeit it," Steinbrenner said. "I told them to stick it." The Yankees did return in time and defeated Baltimore 5-4. Murcer drove in four runs and had a game-wining homer.



I keep this photo of Thurman on one of the walls of my office. I bought an official MLB copy on E Bay. I just love the look on Thurman's face, the focus, the look of a team player as he walks back to the dugout to prepare to get up at bat. It reminds me of my time as a kid, my time watching baseball with my Dad and my sister.

To this day, Thurman Munson's locker has remained empty ever since his death. It serves as a small, silent tribute to this much-missed Yankee ballplayer.

I have included the following moving tribute to Thurman, written by Michael Paterniti in 1999:

The House That Thurman Munson Built

by Michael Paterniti
September 1999, Volume 132 Issue 3

Trust me, he said, and the last great brawling sports team in America did. Twenty years after Thurman Munson's death, Reggie, Catfish, Goose, Gator, the Boss-and a nation of former boys-still aren't over it.

I give you Thurman Munson in the eighth inning of a meaningless baseball game, in a half-empty stadium in a bad Yankee year during a fourteen-season Yankee drought, and Thurman Munson is running, arms pumping, busting his way from second to third like he's taking Omaha Beach, sliding down in a cloud of luminous, Saharan dust, then up on two feet, clapping his hands, turtling his head once around, spitting diamonds of saliva: Safe.

I give you Thurman Munson getting beaned in the head by a Nolan Ryan fastball and then beaned in the head by a Dick Drago fastball-and then spiked for good measure at home plate by a 250-pound colossus named George Scott, as he's been spiked before, blood spurting everywhere, and the mustachioed catcher they call Squatty Body/Jelly Belly/Bulldog/Pigpen refusing to leave the game, hunching in the runway to the dugout at Yankee Stadium in full battle gear, being stitched up and then hauling himself back on the field again.

I give you Thurman Munson in the hostile cities of America-in Detroit and Oakland, Chicago and Kansas City, Boston and Baltimore-on the radio, on television, in the newspapers, in person, his body scarred and pale, bones broken and healed, arms and legs flickering with bruises that come and go like purple lights under his skin, a man crouched behind home plate or swinging on-deck, jabbering incessantly, playing a game.

I give you a man and a boy, a father and a son, twenty years earlier, on the green expanse of a 1950s Canton, Ohio, lawn, in front of a stone house, playing ball. The father is a long-distance truck driver, disappears for weeks at a time, heading west over the plains, into the desert, to the Pacific Ocean, and then magically reappears with his hardfisted rules, his maniacal demand for perfection, and a photographic memory for the poetry he recites... . No fate, / can circumvent or hinder or control / the firm resolve of a determined soul.

Now the father is slapping grounders at the son and the boy fields the balls. It is the end of the day and sunlight fizzes through the trees like sparklers. As the boy makes each play, the balls come harder. Again and again, until finally it's not a game anymore. Even when a ball takes a bad hop and catches the boy's nose and he's bleeding, the truck driver won't stop. It's already a thing between this father and son. To see who will break first. They go on until dusk, the bat smashing the ball, the ball crashing into the glove, the glove hiding the palm, which is red and raw, until the blood has dried in the boy's nose.

I give you the same bloody-nosed boy, Thurman Munson, in a batting cage now before his rookie year, taking his waggles, and a lithe future Hall of Famer named Roberto Clemente looking on. Clemente squints in the orange sun, analyzing the kid's swing, amazed by his hand speed, by the way he seems to beat each pitch into a line drive. If you ever bat .280 in the big leagues, he says to Thurman Munson by way of a compliment, consider it a bad year.

When the Yankees bring Thurman Munson to New York after only ninety-nine games in the minors-after playing in Binghamton and Syracuse-he just says to anyone who will listen: What took them so long? He's not mouthing off. He means it, is truly perplexed. What took them so goddamn long? Time is short, and the Yankees need a player, a real honest-to-God player who wants to win as much as blood needs oxygen or a wave needs water. It's that elemental.



Quotes of the Day:

"I'm a little too belligerent. I cuss and swear at people. I yell at umpires and maybe I'm a little too tough at home sometimes. I don't sign as many autographs as I should and I haven't always been very good with writes."

"I like hitting fourth and I like the good batting average. But what I do everyday behind the plate is a lot more important because it touches so many more people and so many more aspects of the game."

Thurman Munson

**thanks to the Official and Un-Official Thurman Munson web sites for some of the stats and quotes**

Wedding Bells in TO

This past weekend. JB and I attended the wedding of my friend TD. JB took the photo of the lovely couple leaving the church. I love how you can see the rose petals we were flinging at them flying through the air. The wedding was great fun and of course the main focus of this wedding, being an Italian - Greek wedding, was the food! I have not eaten as much food in one sitting ever. I felt like I was at some 3 day feast from ancient Roman times. The servers kept coming out with more food. There was an amazing seafood salad, a pasta dish, a rice dish which I managed to get through when JB leaned over and whispered to me "you know you have an 8oz veal chop and a stuffed chicken breast coming out next". JB would know as he studied the menu card on the table quite closely. The veal chop was great, as was the chicken. Along came a small dish of sorbet and then yet another dish with amazing grilled shrimps and calamari. Speeches and dining over, the DJ started his show and the dancing began. Me and my girlfriend Espinoza were so full we had to get on the dance floor to try and work off some of the meal. Our better halves JB and Migs decided that dancing was not for them and sat at the table and watched us ladies dance with everyone else on the dance floor. JB must have decided he needed to work off some food as a few songs later he decided to dance two slow songs with me and then a waltz! Normally, JB will not dance this much at an event.
Close to midnight the hall staff moved some panels away to display another room which had three tables loaded with huge trays of fruit, pastries and the wedding cake. Espinoza and I both groaned "not more food". Even though I didn't have the room for another bite, I just had to try the wedding cake (photo)which was really quite excellent and I grabbed some fresh figs and strawberries in the odd belief that if I ate some fresh fruit it would make the whole night of eating somehow healthier and less fattening. In reality, the whole idea of a wedding is to enjoy and eat and celebrate and not count calories which we certainly did. JB has a great account of the church ceremony. Let's just say Espinoza and I did spot "Commando Girl" on the dance floor later that evening. We were both still mystified as to how one could sit in a church "commando" particularly in the heat and humidity. I know my Mother told me always to wear clean underwear better yet try and wear underwear at all times particularly in Church! All and all it was a great wedding and we all had a great time with much eating, dancing and laughing with friends. The Bride and Groom are off to Las Vegas to see some shows and will be back in TO next week sometime.

Quote of the Day:

To keep your marriage brimming,
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you're wrong admit it;
Whenever you're right shut up.

Ogden Nash

Whatzupwitu? Whatsupwit this cheesy video!

Short blog today....
whatzupwit this video??? I have never seen it before. Eddie and Michael? Bizarre....

From London to Ulaan Bataar. Start your Engines!

8 000 miles, 2 deserts, 5 mountain ranges, roads ranging from bad to non-existent, no support crew and all in a car you swapped for a bag of crisps? The answer is : "Yes"

One of the blogs I occasionally peruse made mention of the Mongol Rally. The blogger has two friends who have entered themselves in the race. Intrigued by the thought of a car rally and finding the team name of "Celtic Chancers" amusing I decided to check out the websites.


The object of the Mongol Rally is to drive a shit box car from London over 8,000 miles to Ulaan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia. The rules of the rally state you cannot drive a car that is in good shape or of any sort of major horsepower. The Celtic Chancers are driving a 1995 Ford Fiesta (g-d help them!). The goal is to raise as much money as you can for charity. Some of the charities that will benefit from this crazy, wacky rally are Send a Cow, Mercy Corps, CAMDA and Wildlife CRU.

I love the idea of the charity Send a Cow. Their website explains that Send a Cow works closely with local organizations to identify the most needy people in the community - usually women, disabled people or the teenage heads of families orphaned by war or sickness. They strive to ensure that recipients make a success of rearing the livestock they are given. It's not just cows though, very poor people, with little land and few resources who find it difficult to manage dairy cows, receive smaller stock, such as goats, pigs or poultry. They can then begin to rear livestock even though they cannot provide the full shelter or fodder needed for a cow. Each gift - whether it's a cow, goats, pigs, poultry, bees or even fruit trees - is chosen to fit the circumstances of the individual family. Training is provided beforehand in animal rearing and sustainable organic farming, and low-cost veterinary services are provided afterwards.

The initial gifts go on multiplying indefinitely, as each person who receives livestock passes on the animal's first female offspring to another poor farmer, who will do the same in turn. Send a Cow are now working in Uganda, Rwanda, Kenya, Ethiopia and Lesotho.

I just donated via the lads website. It was a breeze to send a donation online. I asked that my donation go to Send a Cow. I urge all of you to check out the The Mongol Rally website. Pick a team you like and donate some $$$$$ You can track your team via the cool tracking page Last time I checked the Celtic Chancers were somewhere in Kazakhstan.

Here's to the Celtic Chancers. Let's hope they make it to Ulaan Bataar and back safely!

Quote of the Day:

"The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But... the good Samaritan reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?"

Martin Luther King Jr

In Vino Veritas (ìn wine truth)

I am mystified by the latest news stories on Mel Gibson. To further clarify, I am certainly not mystified that Mr. Gibson has been caught drinking and driving. Nor am I mystified by his apparent anti-Semitic and male chauvinistic ramblings while being arrested. What I am mystified by, is the unbelievable comments and support of "fans" for Mr. Gibson. If you look at the posted comments to any of the related news stories on the internet, the comments range from "leave him alone, he has a problem, he didn't mean what he said" to my favorite "haven't you made a mistake in life. He didn't mean what he said, he was under the influence. He has a real problem, it's a sickness"

Granted, I do agree that alcoholism is a sickness but when you are drunk, alcohol doesn't have the ability to make you say things you wouldn't normally think or feel. You do not suddenly have anti Semitic thoughts placed into your head. You don't all of sudden become a raging male chauvinist or anti-Semitic asshole. Those ideas and opinions were there before the alcohol "brought it out". The alcohol was merely the catalyst that failed to stop him from actually saying what he really thinks. Sorry Gibson fans, the booze didn't make him say it. It just helped to let us see the real Mel.

JB wrote a good post about the whole Gibson debacle. I won't bother posting all of the details on this blog.

Honestly, I have never been a huge Gibson fan. I have found that I just can't get past his personal/religious beliefs. He has made speeches opposing abortion access, the use of contraceptives, and equal rights for gays and lesbians. It's fine that he wants to practice within his own religion but he should just shut up and keep his intolerance to himself and not push is extreme Catholic ideology on the rest of us. There was a reformation started in 1517 for a reason!

The fact that Mel is so dismissive and intolerant of Jews, women's rights, gay and lesbian rights begs this question: If you are religious and practice the teachings of Jesus Christ, aren't you a hypocrite if you spread hate, lies and intolerance?


Quote of the day:

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.

Blaise Pascal

Well, I do declare! What will they think of next!!

While sitting at my desk today, I decided to take a short break and check out "The Women's Golf Shop" online. I had recently ordered two skirts on sale and I wanted to check on delivery as one of the skirts was on back order.

Here in Toronto, the choices in the pro shops or stores like Golf Town are lacking for women. I find myself ordering on line from the US when it comes to golf attire. In the US, it's a whole different ball game (pardon the pun). The choices for funky golf shoes, clothing and accessories are endless. Gone are the matronly, ugly designs of boring long skirts or shorts and golf shirts that look like mens but are simply cut smaller but I digress while "window shopping" on Women's Golf Shop, I stumbled across the following "golf accessory" which I must admit I am completely fascinated by.

The Cleavage Cooler
......YES! You read correctly... I didn't even know that my cleavage would require cooling while playing golf but apparently, as the description for the product states " Frozen Cleavage Coolers" fit snuggly in the front of your bra where it presses against your sternum and brings amazing body heat and anxiety relief" Anxiety relief? I know I can get upset when I three putt a hole or miss a drive but anxious would not aptly describe my mood at the time? I find this product absolutely bizarre but I am somehow interested in trying one to see just how it works but the $25USD price tag seems a bit steep. I am now wondering if it would have the same effect if I just allowed my cleavage to act as cup holder for my cold water or beer while I walk from one hole to another on a muggy day? What about a mini bag of frozen peas? That would only set me back about $3 Canadian. The possibilities are endless....

The "Cleavage Cooler" is being promoted to us ladies as a Smart "Girlfriend Gift" for: hostesses~Bridal Parties~Baby Showers~Actresses~Dancers~Drama Queens~All Athletes~Tee Prizes at Golf Tournaments. I actually chortled out loud at that brilliant marketing blurb. You even have your choice of shapes, fabrics and by virtue of the fact it was featured on "Dr. Phil's" Invention show just makes me want to run out or click on the "add to cart" button.... NOT.... but I may try the beer can trick on Sunday, if it's really hot....I am sure I may get some stares and JB will be lying prostrate on the greens, laughing his ass off. Surely, everyone will understand that I am trying to reduce my body heat and relieve my anxiety. I am quite sure I will play 100% better than I did with hot cleavage.

If you are interested the "Cleavage Cooler" comes in an assortment of fabrics and either heart shaped or oblong shaped. I will let y'all know how the beer can works if I try it out this weekend.









Quote of the day:

Golf is a game of coordination, rhythm and grace; women have these to a high degree.

Babe Didrikson Zaharias

Yes but can it boil water for my tea.....

My girlfriend, Biodiversity Babe , e mailed the following story to me today. She prefaced said story with dire warnings that I should lay off my Blackberry. As I work in the wireless industry, I am pretty much glued to my mobile and Blackberry or "Crackberry" as we call them here in Wireless Operations. After reading this story I feel I may have to reconsider using my mobile on those long 2 hour conference calls I sometimes end up on. If not, apparently my brain will become hard boiled. BioBabe loves the fact that the cell phones are in cigarette packages, that must have been for another health experiment. I am sure some of us techs here will discover some flaws in their experiment as we like our jobs and our annual bonuses.

Here is the story.....you decide......

How Two Russian Journalists Cooked an Egg with their Mobile Phones






Vladimir Lagovski and Andrei Moiseynko from Komsomolskaya Pravda Newspaper in Moscow decided to learn first-hand how harmful cell phones are. There is no magic in cooking with your cell phone. The secret is in the radio waves that the cell phone radiates.

The journalists created a simple microwave structure as shown in the picture. They called from one cell phone to the other and left both phones on talking mode. They placed a tape recorder next to phones to imitate sounds of speaking so the phones would stay on.




After, 15 minutes: The egg became slightly warm.

25 minutes: The egg became very warm.

40 minutes: The egg became very hot.

65 minutes: The egg was cooked. (As you can see.)





Conclusion ..1: Cooking eggs with mobile phones is possible but very expensive ($4.55 or 123 Rubles)

Conclusion ..2: All this talk of danger is exaggerated; even if your brain gets cooked, it would take a couple hours of talking on a cell phone.

Conclusion ..3: We dont recommend carrying cell phone in your pants.

Spamalot

I noticed on one of the blogs I peruse via Blogspot, the blog owner has chosen a word verification option for those who want to add comments. At first I thought it was strange and perhaps a bit paranoid. After logging in to my blog this morning, I now know why this option was added to their blog. I checked a couple of my blogs, where I know I had no comments added and all of a sudden I noticed comments on quite a few of my blogs. Comments that were not very well written and posted by "anonymous". Comments such as "way to go" or "awesome content" . I placed my cursor on the tiny blue >> link at the bottom of the comment it showed me that "loans.fabiga3.be/residential...." seems to think all my blogs are awesome....

To "loans.fabiga3.be" thanks for the vote of confidence and "awesome" compliments about my writing ability but GET LOST!

Thinking about "Spam" made me remember the hilarious Monty Python sketch with the singing Vikings in the breakfast diner that serves spam with every breakfast meal. A couple drops in to the cafe and all they would like is "eggs, bacon, sausage and no spam". I just watched it again and cannot stop laughing....It is classic Monty Python...the credits at the end are pretty funny and you get to hear the Python theme song....

Oh and word verification has now been added to this blog as well.


Monty Python - Spam

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice........

Ever been in a situation where a series of events occurred to warn you things would not go well but you don't put the series of events all together in your head right away and you blindly go ahead even though ALL the warning signs were there. Then you look back at the chain of events and you want to smack yourself for not being more on the ball and altering the situation.

I was looking forward to a nice relaxing golf game with JB and my friend EL. I should have known it was going to be an "interesting" afternoon when I arrived at the starters box and he informed me that my $95 silk/cotton mix shirt was a tank top and therefore not regulation. Now, I understand golf etiquette and proper dress but I have worn this top at a much more expensive golf club than this public course where the clubhouse is underneath the Victoria Park subway station and the green fees are $22 peak time. JB looked at me, looked at the starter, looked back at me with his "this is not funny" exasperated look. I then politely said to the starter "this is not a tank top, I don't wear tank tops!" He said "it doesn't have sleeves" JB noticed EL walking up the path to the starters booth and said "well, neither of you are not going to be able to play as EL's shirt has no sleeves either" the starter shouted out "oh,she can play, her shirt has a bit of sleeve" This then prompted some grubby guy, who had the tee time ahead of us, race over to me, get in my face and to interject in a fast paced banter a la Michael Keaton as Beetlejuice, "uh, what's your name? tell you what JMack I have an extra t-shirt, I will lend it to you and then you can give it back to me after your game, it's okay, it's okay, trust me, it's okay, take it, you can just take it off half way through the course and no-one will be the wiser, know what I mean, know what I mean" I politely responded "it's okay, thanks for the offer, I can run down to the clubhouse and buy a shirt as I would hate to deprive you of your change of shirt on such a hot day" Beetlejuice, obviously wasted and under the delusion that I may be someone he could ask out on a date then tried to charm me and impress me with his sense of humour by taking off his baseball cap and saying "hey look, I'm a wanna be blackman see,I have the bling bling still on my baseball cap (as he pointed to the price tag he left on the underside of his cap) but seriously the shirt is clean, it is freshly laundered, I swear, I swear" I didn't respond for a few seconds but thought "if I say Beetlejuice three times,I wonder if he will actually disappear?" JB gave me a glance, and he looked pissed off. I knew that look but I was focusing more on feeling pressured that I had held up the whole course because of my shirt incident. Even though Beetlejuice and his friends were nowhere near starting, I put on his T-shirt and then noticed out of the corner of my eye that the group ahead of Beetlejuices had just finished putting the first hole. Finally thinking fast, I realized I had a precious few minutes to rush down to the clubhouse and get a shirt. Beetlejuice and his pals were about to tee off. Beetlejuice decided to light off a small firecracker right when his friend was about to drive. How this did not get them kicked off the course was beyond me. I whispered to JB "these guys are taking forever to tee off. I am not wearing this asshole's shirt as I do not want to "socialize" with them all 18 holes". JB slipped me his bank card, as I left my purse locked in the car. I raced down the hill,into the clubhouse and saw a rack of women's golf shirts. They were all the expensive Nike Golf -Cool Max shirts at $75 a pop. My mind racing, I was doing the calculations in my head. Did I want to spend $75 on shirt to play this $22 course or do I want to walk around for 18 holes in Beeteljuice's "spare shirt". I then noticed a sign above the shirts "All Women's Golf Shirts %60 off" SOLD!! I grabbed a nice black shirt,ran to the counter and said to the golf pro "apparently my shirt is not proper attire for this course." He looked at Beetlejuices nasty, grubby t-shirt and said "uh, that shirt? That shirt is okay for this course" I shot back "not THIS shirt, the one I have on underneath!" He looked confused...I paid for the shirt and ran into the women's washroom put it on and ran back up to the first tee.

Beetlejuice and two pals were just finishing tee-ing off when the group who were to tee off after us arrived. Polar opposites of Beetlejuice and pals, these guys sauntered up to the waiting area of this $22 public course, in a crappy area of Toronto, as if they had just won at Augusta National last week. They took one look at EL and I and started whispering and chuckling. I knew right away they had that look of "oh, great, two women playing ahead of us". It amazes me that there is still this bizarre bias in this sport. Men who think women can't drive the ball as far, aren't as accurate, will hold up their game, blah blah blah blah.....I know that look, I have seen it many times on the golf course and many times after my first tee off, I have had the pleasure of wiping that stupid look and attitude of their faces when I swing my text book swing and send the ball flying. Alas, today was not going to be the day that I would have my normally great first tee off. With Beetlejuice and pals in front and the "wanna be pros" behind us and my head about to explode from the shirt incident I knew it was going to be a stressful game for me. I was getting rattled. This is the mental aspect of the golf game that can really screw up your play. Also, I am accustomed to a much more sane and classier tee off than the insane assylum scene were were going through.

JB tee'd off, EL tee'd off and then I tee'd off and as usual I hit the ball fairly straight but not half as far as I normally would hit the ball on a hole of this yardage. We finished the hole, moved to the second hole and caught up with Beetlejuice and pals who were waiting to tee off at the third hole. JB said "Give me that guys nasty shirt so I can hand it back to them" JB ran over with the shirt and then I noticed him in a conversation with Beetlejuice. JB returned and I asked him what the intense conversation was about. JB replied "oh, he was just apologizing for his black man comment. He said he shouldn't have said it and I told him it was a stupid thing to say. He agreed and said he should not have said it" I was thinking did Beetlejuice not notice that JB, a 6ft tall black man was standing next to him when he made the comment?

A few more holes were played when we noticed that Beetlejuice and pals, who were actually pretty accurate golfers, were playing increasingly worse. We then noticed the pungent odour of cannabis coming from their direction. Now, I don't care if people want to smoke pot but I am thinking on a public golf course at 2:30 pm in the afternoon? it may not be the right time. There were plenty of Dads with kids on the course and Mums with kids out for the afternoon. JB also mentioned that he had noticed that they had a hidden cooler in their bag. So, not only were they smoking joints but they were getting piss drunk on booze. It was going to be a sloooooow back 9. We had the trailer trash degenerates in front of us and the obnoxious "wanna be pros" behind us who seemed to blame their having to wait to tee off at each hole on us. Not sure how they did not notice that we were waiting for Beetlejuice and his pals to finish each hole and that Beetlejuice and pals were also waiting for a slow group of four who were ahead of them. I guess it was easier to blame their delay in game on the only two women on the course.

Fast forward to the 18th/19th hole. I finally have a half decent drive, make the green and we finish off the game. We start walking to the clubhouse and I notice Beetlejuice and pals all going into their respective vehicles and driving off! I then go into the clubhouse to wash my hands etc. Come out and one of the "wanna be golf pros" who were playing behind us says to the young lady who was driving the drink cart through the course all afternoon "Hey, thanks a lot, great job all afternoon, eh" I laughed out loud and said to her in a really loud voice "Wow, you must get that shit a lot" He then shot back a glance at me and I just started laughing. "Mr. Golf Pro" then got into his Hyundai and drove off...

The finale to this already messed up day....... I walk down the parking lot to our parked car. JB was putting the clubs in the trunk we look over and there on the other side of the lot was a group of four 20 something males and one of them was urinating, outside, on one of the trees. Perfect, I thought, just freakin' perfect. I looked at JB and growled through my clenched teeth "This is why there are PRIVATE GOLF CLUBS!"




Quote of the day:

If you drink, don't drive. Don't even putt. ~Dean Martin

Don't Hassle the Hoff.....

Okay, short blog today...It's Friday, it's nice out(see weather pixie). I am leaving work in about 20 minutes to play golf (it's okay, I started at 6:30am) So, for your Friday, end of week chuckle. Check out the latest, yes you heard me, I said latest, music video from David Hasselhoff....How this guy continues to have a career baffles me. This latest video is just as cheesy as his previous videos. I didn't think he could top his dreadful rendition/video of the 70's song "Hooked on a Feeling" but Mr. Hasselhoff continues to surprise me as this one is a close second. This latest song is called "Jump In My Car". The song is listed as an "Australian classic" and "The Hoff" appears to have recorded and filmed the song specifically for the Australian market. In the video Hasselhoff is driving a right hand drive "Kit" Trans Am... Perhaps Australia just recently started showing the 1980's "Night Rider series"? I have no idea, but it made me laugh my ass off. The leering at the girls 30 years younger than him is a bit disturbing as is the leather shirt.

Of Brubeck and Bagels.....

Montreal Days 4 and 5:

Saturday Day 4:

Saturday was spent going for brunch at Boccacino's. They have a lovely huge patio/terrasse on McGill College. It is just at the bottom of "the mountain" and down the road from the entrance to McGill University gates. We had no plans other than to walk around today and then head out later that evening to the much anticipated concert that was closing the Jazz Festival this year...Mr. Dave Brubeck.
The show took place at Place des Arts. After dinner we hailed a cab and sat helpless in a horrible Montreal traffic jam because the cab driver turned up a street that would only lead us to a major traffic jam and thousands of peds walking around to the free stages. He got as about a block from Place des Arts and then said "perhaps you should just walk from here as I can't move in this traffic" If he had not knocked $2 off his fare I was going to lose it. You would think the cab drivers would know which roads were closed and which ones would be congested due to Jazz Festival. The concert started at 8pm and JB and I quickly started running the gauntlet zipping in and out of hundreds of people milling about looking for a good spot for the free stages outside of Place des Arts. Once inside the building we had to find the concert hall. Place des Arts is a pretty big place. Again we had to zip in and out of slow walking lollygaggers! I had both our tickets in my hand and with JB close behind me I shoved them into the ushers hands and she quickly yelled after me, in French, to go upstairs to the right. When we reached the top of the stairs the bell started chiming alerting everyone to get in to their seats. Another escalator ride up to the mezzanine and into our seats at 8pm on the nose. We then sat and sat and sat and the crowd started clapping that slow deliberate clap that means "get this freakin' show started"

The show opened with the winners for "best new jazz artists" for the Festival. They were a group of lads from Toronto, can't remember their name as I was still feeling a bit dazed from our "gauntlet run" getting to the concert hall in time. They played two of their compositions and then we waited a bit before the President of the festival came out to introduce Mr. Brubeck and his band. When Brubeck came out on stage the entire audience erupted in cheers and stood up. Brubek is now 86 years old and still touring. He shuffled over to his piano with a typical old man 86 year old shuffle walk that all old men have but when he began to play it was Brubeck in his prime. The concert was great and his band were wonderful. When he started the familiar opening for his classic jazz hit "Take Five" there was a roar from the crowd that was as loud as any rock concert I have been to. It was wonderful to have the opportunity to see a jazz pianist of this caliber live. When the concert finished the crowd would not stop applauding. Brubeck came back out with his band and he and his sax player, who was quite the comedian throughout the show, started playing Brahms lullaby which made everyone laugh and prompted the audience to start singing "lullaby and good night......" when that ended they started up a great version of Ellingtons "A Train"... it was a great show to finish off the festival.


Sunday Day 5: a bagel is a bagel is a bagel....or is it?

I had two goals today. Get bagels and attempt to get some smoked meat from Schwartz. Schwartz now have their smoked meat available vacuum packed so you can travel home with the wonderful smoked meat of Montreal. We stopped in the Mont Royal-St Urbain area to have brunch at Eggspectation and then headed a couple of blocks down to St. Viateur Street. Now, there is great debate among bagel lovers. Fairmont Bagels vs St. Viateur Bagels. There is even greater debate among bagel lovers over New York vs Montreal vs Toronto bagels. I say Montreal wins hands down! I for one always go to St. Viateur when I am in Montreal. I find that I prefer their bagels to Fairmonts. I usually drive to Montreal for the purpose of having the car to provide us with the extra space for 3 or 4 dozen bagels from St. Viateur. It's pretty hard to get 4 dozen bagels on Air Canada these days. St. Viateur is open 24 hours a day and all they make are bagels. I am sure they know who the Torontonians are as they smile at you when you step up to the counter and say "3 dozen sesame seed bagels and 1 dozen poppy seed please" there are smiles from the other customers in the line up because they know you are taking those bagels home to Toronto and I am sure they are thinking "that's another winning vote for Montreal" . Photo is of me last summer outside of St. Viateur with my 3 dozen sesame seed bagels.

Bagel quest completed we now headed down St. Urbain street and across below Duluth street to get over to St. Laurent to Schwartz for the smoked meat. Yet another great debate in Montreal over Schwartz's or Ben's...personally I prefer Schwartz's. The smoked meat has more flavour and is jucier. There is big rivalry over who "invented" the Montreal smoked meat first. Ben's takes claim but Schwartz says no way.

Schwartz's was opened in 1928 and remains in the same location since it opened. Trust me, I don't think they have redecorated since 1928 either! It is another time capsule like Ben's.
Photo is a typical line up for
Schwartz's which I was not expecting to see at 11:45am on a Sunday. My heart sank when we approached Schwartz's and I saw in the distance a major line up outside. JB and I decided we could pass on the smoked meat this time around as we will probably be back in Montreal at least once or twice by next summer anyway. We wanted to avoid the traffic and crowds that would be starting up for the World Cup final.



Sans our viande fumee, we headed back up to Sherbrooke Street and took Sherbrooke west until we hit a sign that said "highway 20". Highway #20 is part of the Trans Canada Highway which links 10 Provinces across Canada. When you hit Ontario it becomes Highway 401. Within an hour we were at the Quebec-Ontario border and heading home. I reached into the back of the car and into the big bag of warm baked bagels on the floor of the backseat and grabbed a warm sesame seed bagel and started munching away and sighing. The car smelled wonderful all the way home......