Gee-Whiz 20

Grow up for frack sakes.

Howdy boys & girls. Tiz an appalled Scrubbie here.

Now ya'll know I try not to rant too much. I mean, who really cares? Lets face it - the 'ol Scrub blog aint the place to come and find the latest news or glean insight into life and politics. I am VERY sure you have other places to go and find out that stuff. Scrub just ain't that clever.

We kewl on that? Ok.

So - all the bigshots of the world decided to pop on in to us here in the Great White to have a little chit chat about what's goin on in the world. Well... either that, or they're just gettin' together to have a coffee and hang out for a bit. Ya know - catch up.

In private - you gotta wonder what they say. "Hey - hows the wife?"

"I hope they're not serving fish for lunch."

"Maybe this'd be more fun if we all had Vuvuzela's."

"Check out what he's wearing."

Listen - I'm all for free speech. (Those of you visiting from places afar - it's pretty kewl here. Basically you're allowed to get together in groups in public, say what you want, whatever. As long as you do it peacefully and don't get all up in someone's face sorta thing. You should try it.)

And, here in the Great White - while all the big shots are parading around - there were lots of folks that were hanging out with signs and loud-shouty-things protesting this and that. It's kewl. It's all good.

Then - outa nowhere - come these arseholes. Dressed all in black. With their faces covered. Coward bastards. And start smashing windows. Tipping shit over. Breaking everything they can get their frackin' hands on. They even torched a couple of police cars. What the frack!?

Ok - so here's the deal:

1. It was mayhem. For no reason. Didn't your mothers teach you how to play nice?

2. For those that were protesting and demonstrating and getting their messages out peacefully - I'm really sorry that these dicks got in the way. Seriously - I apologize on behalf of all of us who were respecting what you were doing and listening to what you had to say. I'm sorry your actions got overshadowed by dipshits.

3. Likely more than half of these idiots were not protesting. They were not demonstrating. They were not trying to solicit attention to a worthy cause. They were not trying to effect change that would better the lives of people here in Canada or abroad. They were not trying to communicate messages that would improve and preserve the environment for our children and grandchildren. No. They were likely just breaking stuff for the sake of running amok and giggling that they managed to get on TV.

To all those who came to Canada to participate in these big shot meetings - as participants, as witnesses, as security or as media to share the event with the world - I, for one, am truly embarrassed that this behaviour went on and I apologize to you.

We Canucks are, for the most part, a pretty decent lot. We generally open our arms, our hearts and our homes to prit' near anyone - whether you are looking for help or just crusin' through. We have a bit of a reputation for being polite. Hey - there are worse things we could be called.

In the end though kids... it comes down to this -

I think it's great that we can bitch and complain. I think it's wonderful that we have the freedom and the right to express our opinions. I think it's really bitchin' that we can publicly share our ideas and solicit the support of friends and neighbours to get the ball rollin' to effect change in our world.

But - don't go breaking other people's stuff and making us all look like arseholes. You DONT have the right to do THAT.

T-minus 36.5 hours.

If nothing else... we are consistent.

Morning kiddies - yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Ok - so the wife and me.... we have a Kid.

Darlin' beastie, he is.

The kid - he's 13 right now. Comin' up to 14.

And, the Kid... is just closing out his school year of Grade 8. Here in the Great White - we call this "middle school". Sometimes it's referred to as "transitional school".

In Scrubs corner of the country, all the kids leave their elementary schools at the end of Grade 6 and all truck on in to a centrally located building that is their "middle school".

It's the weird little hump of Grades 7 and 8 where all the kids are too old to be cute, too young to be useful, all of them are hitting puberty so their all goofy, clumsy and stupid.

It was, it seems, the best solution, to keep hoards of hormonally transitional morons contained for a couple of years while they get themselves somewhat sorted out.

Anyway... the point here is that the Kid is graduatin' 8th Grade. He's practically done. Tomorrow, Monday, is his official Grad ceremony. Tuesday, he and all the other hooligans are going off to one of Canada's great amusement parks. Then.... that's it. Done. Finito. Finished.

This has happened many times. Not the amusement park. (well - we have done that many times. not what I mean though). Referring to Graduating. Graduating has happened many times. Kindergarten to Grade 1. Grade 1 to Grade 2. Grade 2 to Grade 3. You get the idea.

Not every year has been filled with pomp and circumstance like this one.

This year - it's a fancy affair.

This year - we are all headin' off to one of Scrubs' local village gathering halls - rather fancy and big one - and there, the Kid will parade across a stage after hearin' his name called, to receive his diploma and then he'll be wished good luck as he moves to high school in September.

There'll be music. Food. Fancy furs and skins on everyone. Lots of photos being taken.

And this, boys and girls, brings me to the topic of the day.

See - For many years... well since Kindergarten.... The Wife and me have been snapping pics of the Kid.

That includes at this time of year when the lad is making his strides forward from one schoolin' grade to the next.

I wont bore you with all the pics. But, I'll describe a few of them.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, laceration across the chin.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, stitches below the eyebrow.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, black eye.

The kid - handsome, cute, smiling, fat lip.

Are you seeing a pattern here?

The Wife and me - we almost gave up.

Every grad pic - the Kid has an injury somewhere. Family/Childrens Services would have a hey-day with this mountain of evidence.

Yes - we almost gave up.

Almost.

But, this year rolled along - and there was a glimmer of hope. We're but a mere 36 hours from graduation.

We're counting down the hours.

Then - it happened.

10:30 last night.

36. 5 hours from graduation.

It happened.

The Kid - busted up a digit.

And one of the good ones too.

Up to the hospital.

X-rays.

Pretty pictures of a bone with a crack in it.

Crazy-ass splint on the finger.

And, another picture of our son. Handsome, cute, smiling, busted finger.

Look out Grade 9. Here we come.

Hey Buddy. Would you mind not parking your black hole on my lawn?

*Squeal!

Morning Scrubs, Scrubettes. It's yer old pal Scrubbie here. How are ya?

He's here! He's here! *Scrub sings while doing a little jig.

Ok. I admit it. I am a bit of a geek. But - c'mon... you gotta admit. It's like having a bit of a celebrity right here on the front step of the Scrub Shack. Uber Geek Stephen Hawking - here. Right here. Right HERE!

I can practically feel my own quantum atoms vibrating a light speed, I am so excited!

Huh? You don't feel it?

Hmmmmm. Kids - this guy is not only an Uber Geek; not only THE premier physicist; not only super-cool when it comes to theories of Time and Space and the cosmos.... he's been on Star Trek: The Next Gen!

If dude there were to outfit his wheelchair with a sliding red eye-light, paint it black and call it KITT - It'd be like Knight Rider Steve Hawking. Frack. I'd pretty much switch teams and marry the guy.

Yes boys and girls - Scrubs fair little 'burb here is all a-buzz with the Einstein of our generation being right here to swap brain-spit with other smarty-pants at the local think-tank. It really is quite exciting.

On the other hand - crazy cat lady a few doors down continues to let her beasts run amok (oooooo - 'amok'... "Amok Time".... episode of Trek, the original series.... 2 Trek references in one posting!!!!! I'm gonna need a cold shower if this continues.)

It's not that I don't like cats.

I hate them.

Scrub's a dog guy.

Dog people generally dont groove with cat people.

Oh sure - cats are cute. When hollowed out and used as slippers.

Oh relax. Scrubs not one of those people that would do harm to the little beasts. I just don't like when crazy cat lady lets the wee buggers roam 24-7.

They leave little cat presents frackin' everywhere. Know what I mean? Blech.

Then there's the ever present sight of one of the critters strolling like it's queen of all things - with a bird in it's mouth. Argh.

And while on the topic of elevators - Scrub and the Wife are gonna be providing assistance and support to the Wife's mommy and daddy - Scrub's outlaws - as they prepare to relocate themselves from 10 stories up to only 3 stories up. Well - 3 stories up with a helluva nice view. Yep - the outlaws are moving. So - it's off to their place to pack up their knick knacks and move 'em down a few floors in their apartment building to a really nice spot with a nice nature view rather than the parking lot view. That's happening tomorrow.

Today - The Wife and her gal pal the Joodster are doin' their scrappy thing at a crop in a local burb.

Me - think Scurb's gonna fire up the grill and sear some meat. Scrub is always happy when searing meat.

Oh kids - Saturday is upon us! Now go - love your Saturday. That's what I'm gonna do.

Oh the Irony

Every now and then... somethin just comes back to bite ya in the ass.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol pal Uncle Scrub here. How u doin?

Dont ya hate when somethin so innocent... so innocuous.... so well intentioned.... comes back to haunt ya?

Check out this ad from 1999:

Yes kids. THIS makes me giggle.

Oh - before you send the hate mail... the whole oil thing doesn't make me giggle. The ad makes me giggle. We all good? Kewl.

So - what else we got goin on?

Well - for one thing - to Scrub's neighbours to the south in the good 'ol Red White and Blue - Happy Memorial Day.

Weird, eh? "Happy" Memorial Day. That's not right.

I hope ya'll have a good Memorial Day.

Nope - that's not quite right either, is it?

Perhaps... simply.... it's Memorial Day.

Here in the land of Red and White, eskimos and igloos, snow and pretty coloured money - we have something similar. It's not for a while yet though.

Here's what I got to say about it all:

Whether you agree with the fact that guys and gals who are neighbours, friends and family are off in some locale somewhere - beating heat, exhaustion and, more often than not, kids barely out of diapers playing with explosives instead of Tonka toys - whether you agree with it or not - days like today are not for complaining, protesting, demonstrating or generally bitching. Days like today are for honouring those who themselves have chosen to step up, step out and make what they believe is a difference for their loved ones and their country.

Everybody should go home at the end of the day. Ya know - you wake up. Shower. Go to work. Slug it out for a few hours. Then - go home. Grab a glass of water. Sit in the comfy chair. Complain about a customer or a co-worker. Eat some grub. Watch TV. Go to bed. Do it again the next day. The point is - you go home.

Days like today are for honouring those that didn't go home.

Days like today are to remind the families of those that didn't go home - that their loss wasn't for nothing.

Days like today are for hoping that one day in the future - we won't have days like today.

For now though - we do.

For now - we have people (more kids, really) - who have stepped up to make a difference.

Thank goodness they do because gawd knows - I wouldn't. Just don't have the balls. Know what I mean?

So - there it is.

Now - having taken a brief moment there - I shall now return to preparing myself for the coming thunder bumper storm and will now batten down the hatches.

Goodbye.

Trucker, Grumpy Ex-Fireman and B2B.

Weekends. Glorious. Simply glorious.

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya doin?

Weekends. Fantastic, eh? I know. Sometimes - it's all pleasure. Sometimes - it's a weekend of the "honey-do" list. Either one is ok with me. But - now brace yerselves... - this weekend was a bit of both for Scrub! It's like the best of both worlds.

On the workish front - Scrub took to doin' some arbour work. Ya know - trees and stuff. Out front of the Scrub Shack - we have this tree. Big fella. But, there's a few branches here and there that have simply given up the ghost. Dead. Bare. So - grabbed me one of them saw things on the end of a long pole and went to town.

Helluva slug that was - but I gotta admit - things are lookin real nice outside the shack right now.

Then, on the happy front - it was a weekend filled with seared meat on the grill, music, good times with the Wife and the Kid. Yep - nice all around.

Oh - and last night - The Wife and me cleared some space outside and had a couple of the neighbours over. Wellll - it was mostly a couple of the guys 'round the neighbourhood that stopped by. Bottles and glasses in hand. So - sat around till stupid hours of the night enjoyin cocktails and having a few giggles. Last night - we had Trucker over. Beside him was grumpy ex-fireman and to round out the batch was B2B. Huh? oh - ya... guess I should fill ya in.

So - as ya'll know - Scrub enjoys a full cast of characters, pals and whackjobs around him.

Trucker - one of the nicest guys you could ever meet. Yes - a trucker. Not one of them sleazy truckers. Blech. No - this guy - real nice.

Grumpy Ex-Fireman - name pretty much sums it up. Recently retired from puttin' out flames. Generally grumpy. But - he'd run a mile for ya at the drop of a dime.

B2B - likely needs the most explaining. See.... I could him him Geek. But, that name is already given to my ultra pal.... well.... my ultra pal Geek. I could call him uber-geek. That is pretty fitting. But, no. Uber-geek is called B2B. Here's why.

Nice guy. Like him. Alot. Works at RIM. Worked at RIM since RIM was a pipe dream. (Ya know RIM, right? The Blackberry place? Ya - that one.)

When B2B has a conversation with you - it's just like having a Blackberry conversation. Ya know when you're chattin' via Blackberry.... you type out a sentence or two. Then.... there.... is..... a.... pause.... while.... the.... other..... person..... types...... out..... a..... reply...... then...... sends...... it..... back. You get to then say your piece. Hit send. Then..... you....... have....... to....... pause...... again.

Well - talkin to B2B is just like that. He says something. Then there's a pause. You're never quite sure if he is done talking or not. So, you say something back. Then there's another pause while he puts together the next sentence.

It's like having a living Blackberry chat. Blackberry to Blackberry. Therefore - you got it.... B2B.

Anyway - there it is. A little playtime. A little workin' time. And, now... Sunday night.... sittin outside with the Wife. Hurricane is over. Had a little dinner. Relaxin' time.

Oh ya kids. This is it.

A Return to the Old Ways

ring. *ring. Bzzzzz-ding-ding-ding-bzzzzzz-screech......

Howdy boys & girls - tiz yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya?

The interweb - it's great. I get to peek around at all kindsa stuff. And, don't know 'bout you all - but 'round these parts - they interweb people recently introduced this whole cable thing. Makes all them web pages just pop up lightening quick. It's freakin' awesome!

The Wife and me - we do enjoy the TV. The Wife - totally down with the show LOST. Scrub - ahhhhh - honestly - drove me crazy. Sure, I watched. Mostly 'cause the Wife was watchin. And I do love hangin out with the Wife. So - I'd take in the weekly dose of insanity.

Here, up in the Great White (and pretty much the rest of the world, as far as I know) - that show... LOST... just finished it's 6-year run. Wrapped up. Finished. Ka-put. Done. Did ya see it? Oh sure - the deep and thoughtful sides of me and the Wife got it. Life. Death. The common, human experiences that transcend religion, sex, creed. Blah Blah Blah. But... seriously. Didn't ya'll just have to grab for the prozac and a rye and coke afterwards?

So - that was last week.

Then, yesterday...

24. Jack Bauer. CTU. Heard of it? Ya know - the show that kills off anyone that you just start to think is gonna make it? Ya. That one.

Well - our dear pal Hurricane (ya'll remember Hurricane, right? Named not because of the aggressive passing of wind but because of the path of destruction that follows her around? Ya. Her.) Anyway - our dear pal Hurricane, as ya'll might recall - frequented the Scrub Shack here on regular Monday nights to take in 47 minutes of Jack and the mayhem that went along with it. (Honestly - sure she likes the show 'cause she'd like to have a snog with Mr. Bauer - but, really, I think it's more 'cause it's nice to see someone's life only slightly more chaotic than her own.)

This activity - Hurricane comin' over... The Wife and me pretending we're not at home... Hurricane barging in anyway... this has been going on for some years now. Quite some years now.

Last night - 24 wrapped up. Done. Finito. That's it.

Sure - we're celebrating the off-chance that Hurricane won't come over anymore. But this also means that there ain't much point anymore to havin' cable.

Scrub can cancel cable. Woooo Hoooo!

No more bills from the rather grumpy postal employee.

No more phone calls from the evil empire trying to sell me more.

No more commercials touting the benefits of having a 'happy period'.

But - this also means, Scrub - in order to remain connected to the interweb thing - would have to go on dial up. Hmmmm.... That's ok. I kinda like that sound when you connect. Makes me feel like something is happening. It sounds all computery. I like it.

Hmmmmm..... wait. What about "V"? Oh - and then there's Big Brother. Glorious evidence that the human race truly are idiots. HOUSE. FOOD network. National Geographic specials that show us how bugs do the nasty. And, the ever present hope that KNIGHT RIDER would make a return. Hmmmmmmm. Perhaps losing cable might be a bit... ummm... premature.

Gee - Scrub was comin' on to say his goodbye's to ya'll since he was goin' to be dropping off the interweb (well, the high speed version anyway). But, perhaps..... unlike Jack - both Bauer from 24 and the Sheppard from LOST - this ain't the end.

If Saturday was a dinner - here is the recipe.

And so it begins.

Morning boys & girls - tiz yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How ya'll doin this A.M.??

It's another Saturday in the big city. WOOHOO! Scrub loves Saturdays. In fact, I'd have to say Saturday's are way up there in the list along with Sandwiches, Star Trek and Whiskey. A lot to live up to... I know.

So ya... Saturday in the big city. It's a full one today kids.

First - the Wife - buggerin' off for a day of Scrappin with the gal pals. Gotta load up the go-kart and drop her and her small warehouse of supplies off this morn. (Well... that's not really 'first'. The real 'first of the day' will be draggin' the Kid and his arse outa bed. A chore in itself.)

Then, the Kid has a meet N greet with his soccer pals this morn. The soccer season fires up next week with practice number 1. So, today, the little testosterones are all gettin' together to get their new shirts and shorts etc. Get a chance to meet each other. That sorta stuff.

Front yard -needin' a trim. That'll be on the agenda today.

Hittin' the local trading post to source out some local grub to cook up for the Kid and me.

The interior of the Scrub shack is needin' a little TLC. Gotta get 'round to that.

And, of course, while all that is happening - Scrub'll have the local police scanner tuned in and turned up to see what all the action is.

Yes, m'lovelies... Saturdays are a great thing.

Might even get a little digiscrappin' in today. Wanna see a pic of the neice?