Just got home shortly after 1am. I was up at 6am for the useless three hours before the flight thing. The bus was supposed to leave the resort at 7:25. At 7:30 the Air Transat/Nolitours rep showed up to tell us the flight was delayed by two hours, and the bus would be leaving at 10:00. By the time we got to Toronto, got the Park Plaza to send enough shuttles for all 55 of us (as was supposedly pre-arranged last week), it was 8:30 by the time I was on the 401. I had a passenger to keep me company, and keep me awake. The boyfriend of the groom's cousin goes to school in Ottawa, and missed his connecting flight from Toronto by ten minutes.
I and several others say that when we book a vacation from now on, we will avoid Transat whenever possible. The flight to the Dominican was also delayed last weekend. Either Transat doesn't have enough equipment to handle its passenger load, or the equipment isn't reliable enough. (Maria or anyone else is welcome to comment on this. You have the topic -- discuss!)
Anyway, it was a great, memorable week.
Beddy-bye time now. My sister is coming over at noonish (just over 10 hours from now) to help me finish packing for Monday's big move.
I'll be in touch after that, the good Lord and Rogers cable/internet willing.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Hola from Punta Cana!
This place is beautiful, even in the rain.
It rained when we got here Saturday, rained yesterday (a 3-hour torrential downpour starting at about 5pm), and it's been cloudy with off-and-on drizzle again today.
I haven't wandered out of the resort yet, but have a couple tours coming up later in the week. The wedding is Thursday.
I had a great phone call with JB on Friday, as I was driving on the 401 and he was on the air, from about 5:20-6:00pm.
If I have some more down time, I'll check in later in the week, but internet time is limited to 20 minutes a day, unless you want to pay big pesos for it.
Later, Blog Gators.
It rained when we got here Saturday, rained yesterday (a 3-hour torrential downpour starting at about 5pm), and it's been cloudy with off-and-on drizzle again today.
I haven't wandered out of the resort yet, but have a couple tours coming up later in the week. The wedding is Thursday.
I had a great phone call with JB on Friday, as I was driving on the 401 and he was on the air, from about 5:20-6:00pm.
If I have some more down time, I'll check in later in the week, but internet time is limited to 20 minutes a day, unless you want to pay big pesos for it.
Later, Blog Gators.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
I have the keys!
Yes, ladies and germs, I have the keys to my new, deeluxe apartment.
Of course, there's a story behind it: Yesterday, I stopped in the rental office of the building I'm now in, to make sure the elevator was available for May 1st. "No," I was told, "you have to move out on April 30th by midnight."
Crap! Everything was already set for May 1st: mover, couch and washer/dryer delivery, the whole shebang.
So a quick phone call to the new building manager got me the okay to move in a day earlier. The mover said no, it was impossible, so I said I wouldn't cancel them yet, but could they suggest someone else? It's amazing what happens when you threaten to go to the competition. All of a sudden, they could make arrangements, and would 8:30am be okay?
So, seeing as I'll be away all next week, new building gave me keys today, and a quick look-see at the apartment. BEE YOO TEE FULL! All that's left to do is move in the fridge and dishwasher, and touch up the paint in a few places.
All I have to do now is get Sunday, April 29 off. I'm supposed to work, but now with the move moved up a day, I kinda need the day to finish packing. I'm wishing I hadn't dragged my ass the past couple weeks.
Speaking of which, I gotta go now, and get in another hour of packing before going to work.
Later, Blog Gators.
Of course, there's a story behind it: Yesterday, I stopped in the rental office of the building I'm now in, to make sure the elevator was available for May 1st. "No," I was told, "you have to move out on April 30th by midnight."
Crap! Everything was already set for May 1st: mover, couch and washer/dryer delivery, the whole shebang.
So a quick phone call to the new building manager got me the okay to move in a day earlier. The mover said no, it was impossible, so I said I wouldn't cancel them yet, but could they suggest someone else? It's amazing what happens when you threaten to go to the competition. All of a sudden, they could make arrangements, and would 8:30am be okay?
So, seeing as I'll be away all next week, new building gave me keys today, and a quick look-see at the apartment. BEE YOO TEE FULL! All that's left to do is move in the fridge and dishwasher, and touch up the paint in a few places.
All I have to do now is get Sunday, April 29 off. I'm supposed to work, but now with the move moved up a day, I kinda need the day to finish packing. I'm wishing I hadn't dragged my ass the past couple weeks.
Speaking of which, I gotta go now, and get in another hour of packing before going to work.
Later, Blog Gators.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
American Idol Justice is Done!
"Nah nah nah-nah, nah nah nah-nah, San-jay-ah, gooodbye".
Sanity and credibility have been restored, and the world is turning as it should.
However, I think American Idol is trying to be too much more than a singing contest with American Idol Gives Back. Come on, people, there are enough great organizations doing tremendous work to save the world. Just stay true to your roots, and do what you do best: Finding Your... American... Idol!
Newsguy Bob out! (Not to be misconstrued with outing myself.)
Sanity and credibility have been restored, and the world is turning as it should.
However, I think American Idol is trying to be too much more than a singing contest with American Idol Gives Back. Come on, people, there are enough great organizations doing tremendous work to save the world. Just stay true to your roots, and do what you do best: Finding Your... American... Idol!
Newsguy Bob out! (Not to be misconstrued with outing myself.)
By Popular (?) Demand (?)
"Father," asked the young Native boy, "how do Native children get their names?"
"Well," his father replied, "the child is named after the first thing that the father sees, hears or feels immediately falling the child's birth. For instance, Wind in the Leaves, or Thunder in The Sky. Why do you ask, Two Dogs F***ing?"
Little Bro Dan and I are both Métis. He is fifth generation, I am fourth. You can go back five generations to qualify for a membership card in the Métis Nation. Métis is non-status, so it is not a status card. Dan has his membership card.
One time when Dano was 16 or 17, my dad was teasing us good-naturedly about being Métis, and asked if such things were taken into account when Big Brothers were matching Bigs and Littles. I said I wasn't sure, but that it might be. "Right, Two Dogs?" "Yep," Dan replied, sending my dad into near convulsions of laughter that started with a snort and almost made the poor guy pee his pants.
My name is Bob, and I come from a very weird family.
"Well," his father replied, "the child is named after the first thing that the father sees, hears or feels immediately falling the child's birth. For instance, Wind in the Leaves, or Thunder in The Sky. Why do you ask, Two Dogs F***ing?"
Little Bro Dan and I are both Métis. He is fifth generation, I am fourth. You can go back five generations to qualify for a membership card in the Métis Nation. Métis is non-status, so it is not a status card. Dan has his membership card.
One time when Dano was 16 or 17, my dad was teasing us good-naturedly about being Métis, and asked if such things were taken into account when Big Brothers were matching Bigs and Littles. I said I wasn't sure, but that it might be. "Right, Two Dogs?" "Yep," Dan replied, sending my dad into near convulsions of laughter that started with a snort and almost made the poor guy pee his pants.
My name is Bob, and I come from a very weird family.
Monday, April 16, 2007
How I made mashed potatoes go through my brother's nose
How's that for an attention-getting title?
It's a true story, and it didn't happen when we were kids -- we were in our 30s.
Dementia itself is nothing to laugh at, but you have to find humour in everyday things, even if they're a result of dementia. Our Grandpa McIntyre had been a strong, athletic, very self-confident man. But in his later years, he was robbed of all that and his dignity, too, by dementia. He spent the last six of his 89 years living in a chronic care unit because of it.
One Christmas, while Grandpa was living in chronic care, my parents were spending the holidays at my sister's house in Ottawa. So a couple of days before Christmas, Danny and I went and got Grandpa, and brought him to Danny's house for supper.
Grandpa didn't seem to know who these nice young guys picking him up were, but he must have figured it would nice to get away from the hospital for a while. When we got to Danny's, Grandpa was extremely pleased to see Candy, my sister-in-law, calling her by name, and giving her a big hug and a kiss. That struck us all as a bit odd, because it's short-term memory that goes, and he had only known Candy for maybe 15 years, and Danny and me for our whole lives.
During supper, he started talking about my parents. He remarked how my mom -- his daughter-in-law, Cec -- was "a fine, fine woman". He then turned to me sitting next to him, and asked if I knew her very well. My reply, without a split-second of hesitation: "Oh yeah, she's like a mother to me."
That's when the mashed potatoes came through Danny's nose. He and Candy both left the dining room very quickly, into the kitchen, in absolute hysterics.
And that, boys and girls, is how I made mashed potatoes go through my brother's nose.
Ask me sometime how Native boys get their names, how it relates to Little Bro Dan and me, and how we used it to make my Dad snort and almost pee himself.
My name is Bob, and I come from a very weird family.
It's a true story, and it didn't happen when we were kids -- we were in our 30s.
Dementia itself is nothing to laugh at, but you have to find humour in everyday things, even if they're a result of dementia. Our Grandpa McIntyre had been a strong, athletic, very self-confident man. But in his later years, he was robbed of all that and his dignity, too, by dementia. He spent the last six of his 89 years living in a chronic care unit because of it.
One Christmas, while Grandpa was living in chronic care, my parents were spending the holidays at my sister's house in Ottawa. So a couple of days before Christmas, Danny and I went and got Grandpa, and brought him to Danny's house for supper.
Grandpa didn't seem to know who these nice young guys picking him up were, but he must have figured it would nice to get away from the hospital for a while. When we got to Danny's, Grandpa was extremely pleased to see Candy, my sister-in-law, calling her by name, and giving her a big hug and a kiss. That struck us all as a bit odd, because it's short-term memory that goes, and he had only known Candy for maybe 15 years, and Danny and me for our whole lives.
During supper, he started talking about my parents. He remarked how my mom -- his daughter-in-law, Cec -- was "a fine, fine woman". He then turned to me sitting next to him, and asked if I knew her very well. My reply, without a split-second of hesitation: "Oh yeah, she's like a mother to me."
That's when the mashed potatoes came through Danny's nose. He and Candy both left the dining room very quickly, into the kitchen, in absolute hysterics.
And that, boys and girls, is how I made mashed potatoes go through my brother's nose.
Ask me sometime how Native boys get their names, how it relates to Little Bro Dan and me, and how we used it to make my Dad snort and almost pee himself.
My name is Bob, and I come from a very weird family.
I have a new dognephew
Get this for nerve: My 19-year-old niece, who is just finishing second year nursing at University of Ottawa and still lives at home, goes out and spends $375 for a dog, without even consulting with her parents. PLUS she has a summer job that will take her to Michigan for three months this summer.
When my sister told me about it on the phone Saturday night, there was no way Jack was staying. Michelle had to find someone to take or buy him. Even yesterday afternoon when I phoned because a co-worker showed some interest in adopting Jack for his two little girls, Jack had to go. But by suppertime, an agreement had been reached so that Jack could stay, and grow up with Zoey.
He is kinda cute. He's half Chihuahua (yeah, N@) and half Great Dane. Just kidding! He's half Chihuahua and half Pomeranian. He's nine weeks old, weighs just a couple pounds, and looks like a miniature fox. The lady with no teeth in Plantagenet who sold him to Michelle says he could grow to ten pounds, but I doubt it.
Zoey, the giant Golden Doodle who thinks she's a lap dog isn't very impressed yet, but is already showing signs of acceptance. When another dog takes one of her toys, she growls and takes it away. With Jack, she just waits until he puts it down, and then takes it back. She's also being insecure and clingy, so everyone's making a point of praising her and letting her have a dog biscuit whenever she darned well wants one.
The size difference is amazing. Zoey weighs about 60 pounds, and her head is bigger than Jack. She could crap bigger than Jack!
On another note: Four more sleeps until I head to Toronto, and then the Dominican after one more sleep -- but who's counting? And I have so much to do, I should haul my ass away from the computer.
Later, blog gators.
When my sister told me about it on the phone Saturday night, there was no way Jack was staying. Michelle had to find someone to take or buy him. Even yesterday afternoon when I phoned because a co-worker showed some interest in adopting Jack for his two little girls, Jack had to go. But by suppertime, an agreement had been reached so that Jack could stay, and grow up with Zoey.
He is kinda cute. He's half Chihuahua (yeah, N@) and half Great Dane. Just kidding! He's half Chihuahua and half Pomeranian. He's nine weeks old, weighs just a couple pounds, and looks like a miniature fox. The lady with no teeth in Plantagenet who sold him to Michelle says he could grow to ten pounds, but I doubt it.
Zoey, the giant Golden Doodle who thinks she's a lap dog isn't very impressed yet, but is already showing signs of acceptance. When another dog takes one of her toys, she growls and takes it away. With Jack, she just waits until he puts it down, and then takes it back. She's also being insecure and clingy, so everyone's making a point of praising her and letting her have a dog biscuit whenever she darned well wants one.
The size difference is amazing. Zoey weighs about 60 pounds, and her head is bigger than Jack. She could crap bigger than Jack!
On another note: Four more sleeps until I head to Toronto, and then the Dominican after one more sleep -- but who's counting? And I have so much to do, I should haul my ass away from the computer.
Later, blog gators.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Ya gots ta love Wikipedia
Yesterday, Wikipedia's entry about Sidney Crosby said he lives in California with his wife, Jessica Simpson and their three children. Today it says "Sidney likes long walks on the beach, and candle-lit dinners with his boyfriend, Mats Sundin."
That's gold, people, pure gold.
My own Sidney Crosby joke: Have you seen his playoff beard? Neither has he.
GO, SENS, GO!
That's gold, people, pure gold.
My own Sidney Crosby joke: Have you seen his playoff beard? Neither has he.
GO, SENS, GO!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Water vs. wine
In a number of carefully controlled trials, scientists have demonstrated
that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would
have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli, (E. coli) bacteria
found in feces. In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of Poop.
However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine (or rum, whiskey or
other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of
boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.
Remember: Water = Poop, Wine = Health
Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water
and be full of shit.
Another public service from your buddy Bob
that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would
have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli, (E. coli) bacteria
found in feces. In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of Poop.
However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine (or rum, whiskey or
other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of
boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.
Remember: Water = Poop, Wine = Health
Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water
and be full of shit.
Another public service from your buddy Bob
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Whaddya have to do to give furniture away?
So, the Diabetes Association wanted my couch and chair, but its drivers can't come up to my apartment to get it. So I call the Salvation Army, who can come up to get it.
I was told the truck would be here between 8:30 and 3:00 last Tuesday. So I waited all day, not even showering in case I missed them, and they didn't show up. So I rescheduled for yesterday, but when they got here, the elevators were out of order, and they wouldn't walk up to the third floor. The driver told me they had been here last week, but no one was home. I told him that was BS, because I waited all day. So he promised they'd be back first thing this morning. Besides, the woman who rescheduled the appointment checked their list or manifest or whatever the heck you call it, and said "Oh, yeah. They didn't make it to your place." It's now 10:05, and no show yet.
Sheesh.
One more frustration: I signed up for Rogers Home Phone the day I called to have my cable TV and internet service moved to the new place. The nice, obviously gay young guy asked me to call back the day after the phone service was installed, to take care of the transfer. No problem. Well, okay, problem: When I did call back, the guy I talked to said the new building isn't in their system yet, could I wait two days while that situation is rectified? No problem. Well, okay, problem: I actually gave it more than a week, calling yesterday. Guess what? Not in the system yet. I made no bones about expressing my displeasure, cranky old fart that I am (although I feel sorry for the eight bucks-an-hour call centre people who take crap for someone else's screw-up or inaction). This guy said he would flag the request, and someone from Rogers will call me within 48 hours to confirm that everything has been taken care of. Wanna place bets on it?
There. I feel better just for venting. Anyone want to share similar stories?
I was told the truck would be here between 8:30 and 3:00 last Tuesday. So I waited all day, not even showering in case I missed them, and they didn't show up. So I rescheduled for yesterday, but when they got here, the elevators were out of order, and they wouldn't walk up to the third floor. The driver told me they had been here last week, but no one was home. I told him that was BS, because I waited all day. So he promised they'd be back first thing this morning. Besides, the woman who rescheduled the appointment checked their list or manifest or whatever the heck you call it, and said "Oh, yeah. They didn't make it to your place." It's now 10:05, and no show yet.
Sheesh.
One more frustration: I signed up for Rogers Home Phone the day I called to have my cable TV and internet service moved to the new place. The nice, obviously gay young guy asked me to call back the day after the phone service was installed, to take care of the transfer. No problem. Well, okay, problem: When I did call back, the guy I talked to said the new building isn't in their system yet, could I wait two days while that situation is rectified? No problem. Well, okay, problem: I actually gave it more than a week, calling yesterday. Guess what? Not in the system yet. I made no bones about expressing my displeasure, cranky old fart that I am (although I feel sorry for the eight bucks-an-hour call centre people who take crap for someone else's screw-up or inaction). This guy said he would flag the request, and someone from Rogers will call me within 48 hours to confirm that everything has been taken care of. Wanna place bets on it?
There. I feel better just for venting. Anyone want to share similar stories?
Monday, April 09, 2007
A travel tip that not even Maria can give you
If you are planning to go to London England from New York, may I suggest *NOT* following Google Maps directions. Here's why:
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on "maps"
3. click on "get directions"
4. type "New York" in the first box (the "from" box)
5. type "London" in the second box (the "to" box)
6. scroll down to step #23
A public service from your buddy Bob
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on "maps"
3. click on "get directions"
4. type "New York" in the first box (the "from" box)
5. type "London" in the second box (the "to" box)
6. scroll down to step #23
A public service from your buddy Bob
Sunday, April 08, 2007
I SHOWED HIM!
So a homeless panhandler thinks just because he says Happy Easter, I will give him money. NOT!
I punched him in the eye. Now it looks like a black, blue and purple Easter egg. I showed him! Get your money the way I get mine: I have a job and work for it! At least do something for the money, like the guitar guy next to Beaver Tails, or Fat Guy on Fire, or the white-faced human statue, or the smart-assed young guy with the sign that often changes, but sometimes says that he needs money for beer. At least he's honest. Sheesh.
Thank you for tolerating my Crabby Old F**ker rant, fellow bloglodytes.
I punched him in the eye. Now it looks like a black, blue and purple Easter egg. I showed him! Get your money the way I get mine: I have a job and work for it! At least do something for the money, like the guitar guy next to Beaver Tails, or Fat Guy on Fire, or the white-faced human statue, or the smart-assed young guy with the sign that often changes, but sometimes says that he needs money for beer. At least he's honest. Sheesh.
Thank you for tolerating my Crabby Old F**ker rant, fellow bloglodytes.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
HAPPY EASTER
I hope you have a great one.
Special wishes to Maria, JB and their great families. Easter, like Christmas, is to a large extent for kids.
Special wishes to Maria, JB and their great families. Easter, like Christmas, is to a large extent for kids.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Canadians are SO polite...
...even litterers have manners. There was garbage outside the front door at work today, in a garbage bag that was properly closed! (Cue rimshot...)
Happy Easter, and don't forget the working people, like me.
Happy Easter, and don't forget the working people, like me.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
American Idol has jumped the shark
It's now a total joke, thanks to the idiots who hijacked it with the online campaign to keep Sanjaya in the mix -- although he wasn't all that bad last night. Maybe he should be crooner.
Regardless, AI's credibility is now zero in my mind. I gave up on Canadian Idol a few seasons back, because of Jon Dore and Ben Mulroney. Not even the removal of Dore was enough to make me want to try to stomach that lightweight Mulroney.
Regardless, AI's credibility is now zero in my mind. I gave up on Canadian Idol a few seasons back, because of Jon Dore and Ben Mulroney. Not even the removal of Dore was enough to make me want to try to stomach that lightweight Mulroney.
Monday, April 02, 2007
I'm a big boy now!
It's about time, too, considering I'm ten months away from turning 50.
As of today, I own my very own washer and dryer, and my own couch. The big move to the brand new apartment is four weeks from tomorrow, and getting more real all the time.
Again today, though, something to temper the enthusiasm: I found out that a young guy, same age as Little Bro Dan, and played hockey with him for a few years, has been busted for robbing a cab driver in Timmins, and trying to rob the local movie theatre. He's facing a long list of charges, including robbery and weapons possession, and it's not the first time he's been in trouble. I'm afraid he's going to the big house.
Dan and I have been chatting online about it, making wisecracks. But we're also talking about how sad and disappointing it is on one hand; and on the other hand, how it makes me that much prouder of Dano.
Sure, the alleged robber's parents are divorced and both remarried to different spouses, but they seemed to be doing a good job of raising him. His dad was our hockey coach one year (I was manager/trainer), and he was always strict with his son. His mom was a good hockey mom, too, following him to games and tournaments and on the surface at least, getting along well with Dad and Stepmom. But, as my mom always said, you can only do your best, and teach your kids values and morals, but they eventually all have minds of their own, and make their own choices -- all you can do is hope that the values and morals you taught and demonstrated leads them to the right choices.
Hug your kids tonight for me, will you?
As of today, I own my very own washer and dryer, and my own couch. The big move to the brand new apartment is four weeks from tomorrow, and getting more real all the time.
Again today, though, something to temper the enthusiasm: I found out that a young guy, same age as Little Bro Dan, and played hockey with him for a few years, has been busted for robbing a cab driver in Timmins, and trying to rob the local movie theatre. He's facing a long list of charges, including robbery and weapons possession, and it's not the first time he's been in trouble. I'm afraid he's going to the big house.
Dan and I have been chatting online about it, making wisecracks. But we're also talking about how sad and disappointing it is on one hand; and on the other hand, how it makes me that much prouder of Dano.
Sure, the alleged robber's parents are divorced and both remarried to different spouses, but they seemed to be doing a good job of raising him. His dad was our hockey coach one year (I was manager/trainer), and he was always strict with his son. His mom was a good hockey mom, too, following him to games and tournaments and on the surface at least, getting along well with Dad and Stepmom. But, as my mom always said, you can only do your best, and teach your kids values and morals, but they eventually all have minds of their own, and make their own choices -- all you can do is hope that the values and morals you taught and demonstrated leads them to the right choices.
Hug your kids tonight for me, will you?
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