The National Relationships Board

I recall being in a big city law library years ago and seeing four freshly-minted and most attractive young female lawyers. It was a Friday afternoon and I asked what wild and woolly plans they had for the weekend. They said, “nothing much.”

Nothing much?? No dates? No being taken out to restaurants and movies? No romantic weekends somewhere, far away from the drudgery of the law?

The general consensus among that sad little group of young ladies was that guys of their vintage were either intimidated by intelligent successful women or their tastes drifted toward the ‘easier and skankier’ members of their sisterhood. Guys their age tended to follow the path of least resistance, both intellectually and sexually.

(Why is she working Friday night instead of going on a date??)

I was agog and aghast. This situation, rather widespread according to that mopey little gaggle of girls, could not be allowed to continue. It was an outrage. An affront to common decency. Steps of some sort needed to be taken.

The need for Big Brother to step in and take things firmly in hand was obvious. Thus, the idea for “The Board” was born.

I have long believed that there should be some kind of government tribunal… The National Relationships Board or The Federal Dating Tribunal… something along those lines.

Guys… and by this I mean otherwise decent, appropriate and eligible young men [1]… would be hauled up before the panel to account for themselves as to why perfectly lovely, charming girls aren’t being taken out on dates by decent boyfriends who treat them right.

(You got some ‘splainin’ to do, son!)

Very severe penalties would be handed down to those who cannot give good reasons as to why so many gorgeous girls are left standing on the relationship sidelines.

Any guy who could not provide a good excuse (let alone string together a grammatically cogent phrase) would be dealt with in the most severe manner.

The Tribunal’s motto… Pull Up Your Pants; You Look Like an Idiot!

Naturally, I would be head of the tribunal because I see on a daily basis how so many wonderful young ladies are reduced to putting up with rude, crude, thoughtless, heartless, brainless morons. And that’s when they can find guys in the first place!

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[1] There being a glut of inappropriate guys and an apparent dearth of good guys, the Board would concentrate on the latter. As a girl can’t swing a cat without smacking some loser with it, The Board would concentrate on the eligible yet clueless within the pool of available men.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 17): ‘The Extreme’

Sweet Lord in Heaven, what would my life be without Tracy Charles in it?

(Tracy up north at the cottage in Parry Sound, Ontario)

Certainly a lot more dull, I can tell you that right now!

I live vicariously through Tracy. For such a normal looking girl, Tracy is The Extreme.

(Tracy and her dear friend, Shakira, in Morrocco)

Remember the 1996 movie Twister where the Bill Paxton character brings his girlfriend (Jamie Gertz) along chasing tornadoes and they end up at the farmhouse for lunch and she asks, “Why do you call him The Extreme?” The Philip Seymour Hoffman character explains, “Because he… is The Extreme!”

(Running down a zip line in Montego Bay, Jamaica)

That’s basically how I explain why I think of Tracy as “The Extreme”… because she… is The Extreme!

(Tracy making friends and influencing people in Cuba)

Tracy travels. Often. To a LOT of places!

But The Extreme is not content simply to visit these far flung joints. She has to go all out!

(Hang gliding in the Andes Mountains)

I swear, I get scared and exhausted just seeing her photos and videos and reading about what she’s doing next! The girl is a high octane adreniline machine.

(Repelling down a canyon river in South America)

The girl has boundless energy and an unbridled enthusiasm for trying something new, for taking risks.

(Rent a car? Hell, no! Tracy zips around  Baños, Ecuador, in a flippin’ go cart!)

Tracy is no mere adreneline junkie. She is a woman who has had her share of tragedy in her life and she has learned that you need to squeeze every drop of enjoyment from life. Never go to your grave thinking, “I wish I had done that!”

(Note the bad-ass barbed wire pattern on the helmet!)

So here’s to you, Tracy. You are an inspiration to me and all who know you.

Can’t wait until you get back from your present trip so we can talk more about it.

Until then, enjoy life to the fullest. If anyone has earned it, sweetie, it’s you!

(Tracy straddling the equator, being in two hemispheres at the same time!)

You’re the best. You are… The Extreme! [1]

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[1] At the time of this posting, Tracy is in the Amazon jungle, home to over 2.5 million insect species!

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Marilyn Manson’s “Tainted Love” (and from whence it came)

Just in time for Halloween!

I ran across Marilyn Manson’s video of “Tainted Love”…

A lovely Halloween treat which is, of course, Manson’s cover of the 80’s classic.

For those who like to compare and contrast, I give you the 1981 video by Soft Cell.

But the version by Soft Cell is, in itself, a cover of the song.

Gloria Jones recorded the original version of “Tainted Love” in 1965, which was written and produced by Ed Cobb.

Enjoy!

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 14): Anna

There are people I know who are ‘quantity lunchers’… people with whom I get together fairly frequently.

My dear friend Anna can only be described as a ‘quality luncher’… I don’t get together with her as often as I would like but when I do, our meetings are most memorable.

(I took this photo of Anna when we were in college)

I’ve known Anna since college. She and I worked in ‘the theatre’ [1] together.

Aside from being beautiful, intelligent and charming, Anna possesses a very quick wit and a clever turn of phrase.

When I am with Anna, we don’t talk… we converse. Conversation is an art whenever Anna is involved.

Luckily, her words and ideas aren’t evanescent and ephemeral. They don’t disappear as soon as she speaks them. Anna is also a writer (as opposed to a mere ‘blogger’ like me). Her written words are crafted just as carefully as her spoken words.

Such richness of expression risks being too much for a palate accustomed to plain fare. Fortunately, Anna manages to express herself in way that is open to all willing to listen… really listen… to what she says.

Metaphors, similes, allusions, alliteration… all used effortlessly and with a deft hand.

(Anna performing in ‘The Threepenny Opera’)

It helps, of course, that Anna is nuts. In the nicest possible way, of course, but eccentric nonetheless. Her loopiness is the spice that flavours her talks. Any given tète-à-tète with Anna leaves me with the distinct impression that Reason left the building long ago and left Wit in charge of warming the throne until she returns.

Whether our discussions are light and frothy or deep and intense, exchanging ideas with Anna is always a delight.

We are long overdue for an extended chat. My fault, completely.

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[1] Pronounced “the THEE-ah-tah!”

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Mutant Japanese Wolverine Frogs!

Why has Stan Lee not thought of this one!?

Not to worry. The boys over at ScienceDaily.com have not dropped the ball.

(Otton frog [Babina subaspera]. Image: N. Iwai)

How Flick Knife Thumbs Help Japan’s Rare Fighting Frogs

The article begins, “Combat-ready spikes which shoot from fingers sounds like the weaponry of a comic book hero, but a Japanese scientist has found exactly this in a rare breed of frog. The discovery, which is published in the Journal of Zoology, reveals how the Otton frog uses spikes which protrude from a false thumb for both combat and mating.”

Yes, my little geeks and nerdlings, male Otton frogs get into vicious cat-fights that leave them scarred and bleeding, thanks to the retractable claws stashed in their “thumbs”.

The study, conducted by Dr Noriko Iwai from the University of Tokyo, focused on the Otton frog (Babina subaspera), whose habitat is the Amami islands of Southern Japan. Unlike most other frogs the Otton has an extra digit-like structure, a trait it shares with the five-fingered Hypsiboas rosenbergi frogs of Latin America.

(The white spike [left side of frog hand] is usually sheathed. Image: N. Iwai)

“Why these ‘fifth fingers’ exist in some species remains an evolutionary mystery, but the extra digit of the Otton is in fact a pseudo-thumb,” said Dr Iwai. “The digit encases a sharp spine which can project out of the skin, which fieldwork demonstrates is used for combat and mating.”

“While the pseudo-thumb may have evolved for mating, it is clear that they’re now used for combat,” said Dr Iwai. “The males demonstrated a jabbing response with the thumb when they were picked up, and the many scars on the male spines provided evidence of fighting.”

(In fairness, this ninja frog wasn’t part of Dr Iwai’s study.. but should have been!)

“More research is needed to look at how the pseudo-thumb evolved and how it came to be used for fighting,” concluded Dr Iwai. “The thumbs use as a weapon, and the danger of the frogs harming themselves with it, makes the Otton pseudo-thumb an intriguing contribution to the study of hand morphology.”

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Journal Reference:

1. N. Iwai. Morphology, function and evolution of the pseudothumb in the Otton frog. Journal of Zoology, 2012; DOI: 10.1111/j.1469-7998.2012.00971.x

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 13): Tom

Tom.

What can I say about Tom?

I’ve known Tom since high school.

I went to college with Tom.

When Tom and I are across the table from each other at a café or diner, I know I am going to have a wonderful time.

Tom personifies ‘down to earth.’ He doesn’t have an ounce of pretension in him.

(Tom and I a few years ago at my ‘office’ at the café)

During the course of his life, he’s had his share of tragedy and challenge and yet he has risen above it time and time again.

He manages to be plain-spoken without being blunt to the point of rudeness. He is genuinely friendly.

No one lives The Golden Rule like Tom.

I suspect he may be nuts. Only someone with deep-seated problems can appear this normal and cheerful every day.

From what I can tell, he doesn’t experience mood swings. While I’ve seen him ticked now and again, I cannot say that I have seen Tom truly angry in all the 43 years I’ve known him.

But… sometimes the mask slips and I can see the loonie lurking behind. There are tell-tale signs of wackiness.

(Old college friends Joyce and Tom, clearly caught plotting against me!)

To give you just one example… Tom wears shorts. And when I say, “Tom wears shorts” I’m here to tell you… Tom wears shorts!

All the time. Day and night. All year round.

On blustery winter days, in walks Tom in khaki shorts, a broad smile on his face. I’ve seen Tom strolling down the street in basketball shorts during a snow storm.

You may have everyone else fooled, Tom… but I am on to you. You’re as loopy as I am. You just manage to hide it better!

I’ve given it a lot of thought over the last couple of days.

My life would be all the poorer and less colourful without Tom in it.

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Unhealthy Interests (Part 7): Grocery Shopping

Most people don’t have feelings either way when it comes to grocery shopping. It is a chore that has to be done and that’s pretty much as far as it goes.

(My idea of a good time!)

Many people HATE grocery shopping. They just can’t stand it.

Many people really enjoy grocery shopping.

(Not me… although it does kinda look like me)

And then there are those of us who simply ADORE grocery shopping. It is one of the highlights of our week!

My dear friend Wendy shares this bizarre passion.

To us, grocery shopping is an adventure! We check out new produce, new products, casually go up and down the aisles. We check out the grocery store staff.

And we check out our fellow shoppers. Sometimes this can be an amusing experience.

(A disgruntled fellow-shopper)

Sometimes it is a disturbing reality check!

I have not yet introduced Wendy to the concept of kosher food shopping in any great detail. It’s a lot of information up front. I think I am going to have to ease the poor kid into it gradually.

(Sometimes a zucchini is just a zucchini)

I’m sure there are all kinds of psychological reasons why we (and people like us) get such an unbridled feeling of joy when we shop for food.

I am even more sure that Wendy and I could not care less what those reasons are.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 12): Wendy

OK, so there I was, sitting at my other café, minding my own business…

I was alternating between going through my emails, doing a bit of writing and checking out the other patrons. I noticed a particularly lovely young lady at the counter along the window… gorgeous silhouette against the light of the late afternoon. Her back was to me but I noticed her long dark brown hair and pale skin. Quite a vision.

The waitress, Krista (more on her in another blog), came over to me and struck up a conversation. No sooner had my voice wafted over the café airwaves than the pretty girl at the window turned my way.

It was my dear friend Wendy!

She brought over her soup and drink and plonked herself at my table. I couldn’t have been happier. I introduced Wendy to fellow-loony, Krista. They’d met. Of course, they’d met. Loonies have a way of gravitating to one another.

A few words about my dear friend Wendy. Young, pretty, spiritual, fun… bit of an intellectual but in a good way.

We share many of the same odd interests. For example, we’re both zombie and vampyre nuts. We can, and have, spend long periods of time discussing various aspects of The Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse, especially the physiognomy of the living dead.

We also share an almost unnatural passion for grocery shopping (more on that in another blog).

Wendy’s long hair is quite something. Thick, rich… fantastic. She has a habit of playing with it that makes it even more attractive.

We promised each other to set up a grocery shopping date. The only thing better than doing groceries is having someone I like to keep me company. I can think of few people with whom I’d rather shop for groceries than Wendy.

It’s a real advantage that Wendy is eccentric. It takes the pressure off in that neither of us feel we have to ‘act normal.’ We can be ourselves. Such a relief in these trying times.

It really helps when friends share quirks and compulsions. A lot fewer explanations are required.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 11): Danielle

Now that I am firmly ensconced at my new/old office [1], I am easy to find.

As in years past, people know that if they go into the café across the street from the Courthouse, the chances are pretty good they will find me.

Such is the case with my dear friend, Danielle. Last year, she worked in one of the café’s former incarnations. We’ve remained friends ever since. She doesn’t come to the café regularly but when we manage to get together there, it is always a wonderful experience for me.

(My dear friend, Danielle)

Danielle provides me with what used to be called in previous generations ‘sparkling conversation’ and ‘witty banter.’ She certainly has a quick wit. Add to that the fact that she is young, pretty and thoroughly charming and you can see why she is an ideal café co-conspirator.

Danielle is a master of repartee. [2] She excels at the quirky quip.

With some clever people, conversation is almost a competition… Who can say the cleverest thing? Who can top the other? With some people, you don’t converse so much as compete for air-time. Not so with my darling Danielle. She is a generous conversationalist. She is just as adept at the comedic set-up… saying something which she knows will be used by me to make a funny remark. Sometimes I am the straight-man… sometimes she is. It’s a nice relationship.

It also doesn’t hurt that this delightful girl is as nutty as a fruitcake. Totally loopy but in the best possible sense of the word. Offbeat, quirky, zany… all these words come close without quite describing her. She is a funtastic, howlarious, smile-a-minute mirthquake.

(My dear friend, Danielle)

This is not to say that Danielle is merely an irrepressible madcap. Far from it. She has her deep, pensive side and a quick analytical mind. Whether we’re discussing film, literature, art or popular culture, she can definitely hold her own – a refreshing quality in one so young.

One of the most interesting things I find about this young lady is that her entire social and cultural frame of reference is so different from mine. She’s never known a world without computers, cell phones, emails, text messages or the Internet. She simply cannot imagine life without microwave ovens or DVDs. She’s never seen any of the Star Wars movies and has  never watched an episode of Star Trek. She has no idea that the ‘cc’ at the bottom of a piece of correspondence stands for ‘carbon copy’… which makes sense considering she’s never even heard of carbon paper let alone seen a mimeographed copy of anything.

She suspects I am lying when I tell her that when I was a child, milk was delivered to our door by horse-drawn cart. [3]

In many ways she is The Girl From Planet X. I am more than happy to be her ‘test subject from a long-forgotten era.’

Best of all, despite our many differences, our minds work very much in the same way. We finish each other’s sentences. We ‘get’ each other effortlessly.

And we write in much the same manner.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

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[1] The Bridgewater Café, 91 East Main St, Welland, ON. Phone: 905-788-9339

[2] Repartee is the wit of the quick answer and capping comment: the snappy comeback and neat retort.

[3] I am not lying. Our town was the last area in Canada where milk was delivered by horse. This went on well into the early 70’s, I believe.

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Return of the Revenge of the Curse of the Bride of the Mummy’s Bacon!

As I have said many times, the love of bacon, especially in Canada and the United States, borders on religious fanaticism.

The knee-jerk response people say in their defence is, “Yes, but it’s so delicious!”

True. However LOTS of things are delicious. Ice Cream is delicious. Chocolate is delicious. Chocolate ice cream is delicious.

(Bacon Chocolate Ice Cream Cupcake)

But none of the other delicious foods comes close to the level of adoration accorded to bacon.

(“Honey, I’ve got it! BACON APPLE PIE!!”)

It reaches an almost fevered pitch.

I’ve heard people say that they dream of bacon.

More than a few people have admitted that a life without bacon is a life that is simply not worth living.

The love of bacon has become a lust. Bacon is bordering on becoming a fetish with some people.

(Bacon mug)

It’s become a relentless obsession with a large segment of our society.

Bacon is omnipresent.

(Bacon sunrise)

People see the world in terms of bacon.

(Bacon tattoo)

Bacon has literally become a part of many people.

Many people start their day with bacon.

(Bacon cappuccino)

Some not in the way one would expect they would.

(Jolly Roger Pirate Flag Bacon)

In our culture, bacon is ubiquitous.

Some guide their lives by it!

I will continue to chronicle this national and international obsession with bacon.

No matter where it leads.

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Many thanks to my readers and friends (especially Stephen Balen and Anna Camara) who have emailed or otherwise forwarded bacon-related photos and ideas to me. Thanks also to my dear friends Wendy McIntyre and Danielle Ulch with whom I have discussed the bacon craze at great length and who share my bafflement on this entire subject.

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