ROBBLOG #383

My good friend Dame Clare Voyant sent me an e-mail the other day. As usual, she is spending her winter in Poo Poo Pawi her little private island in the Pacific. I share her news with you.

Well, My Dears, Paradise is all mine here on a little island I own called Poo Poo Pawi where the sunsets are breathtaking and the locals scamper about bare- yet decent. Of course My Dears that may not include Roger My Head Pool Boy and his hubbie Xavier, who have been caught scampering about a few times clothed only in the warm island breezes.

Now Boys will be Boys- won’t they?

I mean really My Dears.

Won’t they? 

Once again, I have gathered my faithful Royal Palais staff together and off we jetted and find ourselves here on Poo Poo Pawi.

Well, Dears, I feel it’s the least your Dame can do for being so fortunate in having such a dedicated staff. Poo Poo Pawi is a little island your Dame has the deed to in the South Pacific. It’s just a hop, skip and a plane ride from Honolulu. Quite handy I must say if we run out of a loaf of bread or carton of eggs or magnum of Vodka. You see My Dears, there is no Metro or Tim Horton’s on Poo Poo Pawi, so we are glad that civilization rests on our doorstep. 

Hedda Lettuce, my best friend is sitting here not far from me, on my favourite beach called Coo Cui Pui, absolutely awash in SPF30. She looks absolutely gorgeous. She really does. Hedda is reading a trashy novel as usual as she reclines under an old date palm. After all that’s what vacations are all about. Resting and doing nothing more stressful than reading a filthy old book. 

My Darling Head Pool Boy, Roger and his Husband Xavier are splashing away in the warm, foamy surf a few metres to my left. Their matching black speedos filled to capacity.

Now, you know what I mean don’t you?

I mean, you really do? Don’t you?

My Dears, it’s like front row seats at a sausage factory.

Tee Hee.

I mean that- Tee Hee, I really do. 

Oh My Dears, sometimes I feel so naughty just sitting here watching the boys play.

Does it get any better than this you ask?

Only when my masseuse, Juan de Cortelles de Primo Gauntchy Robusto massages my tired shoulders-or whatever else he needs to massage every morning on the western facing lanai. Right now Juan is scouting about the island looking for natural herbs to mix into one of his natural, all healthy, all healing recipes that he tirelessly rubs into my back and shoulders.

Now My Dears, I don’t question his methods. I just relish in the results.  

The Royal Hut- as we affectionately call it, is once again this year the centre of all that is good this vacation. The Grand Poo Poo Dining Room that’s open to the air and looks out over the rolling waves of the blue Pacific is being prepared for an island dinner this very evening. Cook tells me she will really outdo herself with fabulous island fare tonight. Although we delight in ringing Pizza Hut in Honolulu and have some tasty fare flown over to Poo Poo Pawi some evenings, tonight will be very special. Food is all important to us Poo Poo Pawians you know. Why even some afternoons, Hedda makes her famous Poo Poo Peanut Butter and Jelly open-faced sandwiches. Oh it’s a very old recipe and I must tell you that Hedda manages quite well. It goes down rather well too with the odd dirty martini or two. 

Later this evening as the South Pacific sun sets on Poo Poo Pawi we will all gather on the beach in front of the Royal Hut and give thanks to the Mother Goddess for our station in life. Roger and Xavier and some island boys will no doubt prance partially unclothed around the fire pit singing old Poo Poo Pawian songs with the musical accompaniment provided by a trio of Ukulele players I have had flown in from Kuai just for this evening. What a grand island time to be had by one and all!     

Did I mention that Roger and Xavier and the “Boys” will be scantily attired at best- in true island fashion.

I did?

Nevermind then.

Now don’t be jealous My Dears.

If you little people had money you would do no less.

I mean that.

I really do My Dears. 

Well, Hedda has just called from the shade of her Date Palm. She wants to take a dip in the ocean and then take a stroll along the beach, so I must be off My Dears.

I really must. 

Until next time from Poo Poo Pawi .

I’ll write again soon and maybe send you a couple of jpeg snaps of the after dinner “Prance”! 

Tah for now!

ROBBLOG #382

It’s just past 1230 noon on Bleeker Street. Blanche rolls in from the kitchen- after fixing herself an egg salad sandwich on whole wheat with a baby dill pickle on the side. She finds Jane- her sister, in the parlour thumbing through the National Enquirer. 

Jane: For Christ’s sake Blanche look at this picture of Whitney in her coffin.

Blanche: If you ask me Jane Dear, I believe it’s terribly disgusting and inappropriate!

Jane: I know! ~puff~ exactly what I thought too! That hairstyle screams 80’s!

(Blanche looks at Jane incredulously. She shakes her head and rolls up to face her.)

Blanche: Jane Dear, what would you say if I told you I was going to get a dog?

Jane: A what? What the #*&^% would you do with a dog? ~ puff, drag, puff ~

Blanche: Oh Jane Dear, take him for a walk for one thing.

Jane: Hah! Don’t make me *&*#*^% laugh! You’d take it for a roll! Hah! Hah! ~puff~

Blanche: A dog would keep me company when you’re out with Mr. Bernstein.

Jane: Well at least I have a man Blanche! Not a Goddamn Mutt.

Blanche: Oh I don’t know Jane Dear (smiling), depends how you look at him.

Jane: What are you incinerating Sister Dear? ~puff, drag, puff, puff, puff~

Blanche: The word’s insinuating Jane Dear and you know exactly what I mean.

Jane: Are you saying my boyfriend- Mr. Bernstein, is a “dog-faced” boy Blanche?

Blanche: (she smiles) Woof. Woof.

Jane: Why you #*&^%$# old gimp of a poor excuse for a Sister- let alone a woman.

Blanche: Now, now Jane Darling. Sticks and Stones!

Jane: Well if I had one of each Blanche, I’d be pitchin’ them at you!! ~puff, puff~

Blanche: Hoo, Hoo, Hoo! Don’t make me laugh! (she wheels away)

Jane: Hey Chair Lady! ~puff, puff~ Where the *&*# do you think you’re rolling?

Blanche: To the SPCA of course. Tell the “dog-faced” boy hello for me- will you Dear?  

ROBBLOG #381

You know what it’s like these days- what with social media and stuff.

Things you say- if you are in the media or things you tweet or Facebook, always seem to be out there in cyber space. Take for instance this comment that North Simcoe MPP Garfield Dunlop made a decade ago. This quote is from the Christian Science Monitor 10 years back when he was first running as MP for Simcoe North. In the article it says:
Garfield Dunlop is busy on the hustings, giving the same spiel at every door in his suburban Ontario District.
“I’ve got some literature here on same-sex marriage,” says the avuncular politician, pressing a pamphlet into the palm of a white-haired woman who smiles and motions him into her home.
“It’s a sin,” he continues, climbing into the foyer. “And it could tear apart the fabric of our society.
 I wonder if Garf feels the same way 10 years later?

I mean I’ve talked to him over the years.
Tom and I took a picture of him- along with his wife Jane, at King’s Wharf Theatre.
Why?
They came over and asked us to.
I asked him to attend a flag-raising at the first Gay Pride Week a few years ago. He couldn’t make it because of previous commitments- according to an e-mail letter his office sent.
I even asked Mr. Garfield to be on a Hank Christmas Show a year ago. He said yes and made the requested appearance. He seemed to have a real good time on stage.

It’s just too bad that someone- who marries another man, has to be the cause of society crumbling. Just because I marry someone I love, how can it “rip at the fabric of society.”
Canada is still here after making Same-Sex marriage legal 6+ years ago- much to the chagrin of the extreme right, the Catholic Church, The Salvation Army and tons of other individuals and right-wing, religious fanatics.

Garf is still here too in this redneck world called Simcoe North.

Maybe Garf has had a change of heart and wonders why he made those comments. I wonder if anyone in his family has “Gay tendencies”?
Someone has to.
It may be buried deep but someone has to. It’s in the numbers.

Hey, I was reading about all those men who became Cardinals in the Church of Rome last weekend. There was a time when that church was quiet and reserved about its day-to-day life. Then for a few decades they loosened up and that’s when all the child abuse came pouring out. You know, the stuff about those fine religious types that “diddle” with young boys, yet still retain their godliness.
That’s why these days many Catholics are referred to as “recovering Catholics” and are leaving the church in droves. It’s also about birth control and the issue of no female priests too, that is causing the drift from the church.

Speaking of religion, on Saturday morning a couple of Jehovah’s came up my front walk as I was letting the cat in.
I want to qualify that statement.
Our cats don’t run free. They get to be out for a few minutes under our watchful eye. They get some fresh air and then they are brought back in the house. It was at this moment as I was gathering up my pussy that a pair of JW’s started to come up my walk splitting off from a group of four. I could tell they were newbies.

You see, many times I have called their Kingdom Hall and told them to take me off their list, come and get their pamphlets from my mailbox and don’t come on my property again. When this demand slips through the cracks it’s because of “newbies” such as those who came up my walk on Saturday.I stopped them before they set foot on my steps.
“Are you Jehovah’s”- I asked politely.
The man- who looked quite normal, paused and said- “Ummm. Yes.”
I could see the Jehovah Bible and pamphlets in his hand.
You know, I had a friend who asked me once, why did everything have to be Gay with me. Why couldn’t I just be normal?
I guess I mean normal in this case with the JW’s, in the sense that most people who are of a religious persuasion don’t appear at my front door trying to convert me to win their way into Heaven.
Anyway, he seemed apprehensive. What was I going to do?
Throw my orange cat at him?
Then, I said- “I have told your church many times that you are not welcome on our property.”
“Oh!”- He said, coming to a full top, clutching his bible and assorted papers, “Sorry.”
I picked up the cat and walked to the side door.
Amidst much whispering on the sidewalk, he called to me again-
“Once again, sorry.”
I answered- “You all have a nice day.”
Did I hear asshole, mumbled beneath his breath?
Possibly.
Maybe it was just my ESP.

I may have rambled a bit on this edition of my RobBlog what with these three stories but there happens to be a “sameness” about them, I think. Maybe I print some things here- like the Garf stuff above, that I will look at a few years from now and say- “Wow! I said that?”

We’re all trying to do the best we can in this world.
These people are all trying to tell us what to think and how to live and what the consequences will be if we don’t follow their beliefs.

You figure it out.
Just don’t knock on my door to tell me.

ROBBLOG#380 W E E K E N D Edition

Holy Smokes Charlie Sheen doesn’t like Ashton Kutcher in Two and a Half Men.

Who would have thought he’d feel that way. Oh well, the truth will set you free. 

A couple in Grand Valley Ontario has had to endure six massive towers being built on their expropriated farmland which the construction of the same, is frightening their dog, horses and Highland Cattle. So Far Ontario Power has sent them a cheque for 2500 dollars.

Oh well, what’s yours is not really yours when it belongs to the government or Ontario Power Corporation. 

I have had Swisssh Radio on the air for 5 years come Match 7th. Starlite Radio has been on air since January 1st of this year. Now CBC Radio has added 40 all music channels that are free for the listening. I shouldn’t be telling you this because you’ll switch away from Swisssh and Starlite. I haven’t heard commercials- which is typical for CBC Radio since we pay the bill, nor have I heard ID’s or talk- at least not on the Country station of Soul station I listened to today. I am lucky if I make a few bucks a year selling commercials just to pay my Internet expenses- streaming and such, only to sit back and see the CBC- the publically funded CBC, do what I do minus ID’s and a few commercials.

How can I get my stations to be publically funded?

Haven’t a clue. Oh well. 

Well now, the Harperites are finally shooting the gun registry down. Police Chiefs across Canada said don’t do it!

So when has Harper not listened?

I know. I know! I know the answer to that one!

Since he got his perceived majority!

That’s the majority where only 40 percent of Canadians who voted, voted for him. 

While that’s going on, the Terrible Tories are saying it’s OK to spy on Canadians by finding names, addresses, phone numbers and ISP’s online. Hmmm. Doesn’t that sound like the way Russian and East Germany used to run things? Someone who works for Harper must have been in North Korea or Hi Chi Min City recently.

Hey!

Last week I had several people listening to Swisssh Radio from Ho Chi Min- formerly Saigon. 

Speaking of listeners-

I also had listeners in Saudi Arabia last week. What if they heard someone on Swisssh Radio say “something” or heard a song they thought was contrary to their religious views (Like Ray Stevens singing Ahab the Arab) and hunt me down.

Wait!

How could they possibly find me?

Whew. I feel better now.

Canada. The True North Strong and FREE! 

WAIT!

All they would have to do is ask Stephen Harper where Swisssh Radio is located.

Merde! 

Will the truth set me free or give me a free pass to a stoning?

Maybe my own? 

Better cancel my travel plans to Saudi and stick with the Emirates- or at the very least…Paris.

ROBBLOG # 379

Uh Oh. It's Part V of Out in the Barn.
Read on MacDuff until Burnham Wood come to Dunsinane...

“Lilloweth!…”- Betsy called out to her friend next door.

There was no answer. She tried again.

“Lilloweth!” Are you there?

Still quiet.

“Darling, if you’re expecting her to answer you- she won’t. She can’t hear you. Helen- her neighbour up the stalls, poked her head through Betsy’s doorway.

“Why can’t she hear me, Helen?” Betsy set her Cow Digest Magazine down on her coffee table and sashayed to her doorway. 

“Have a look for yourself Betts Dear.”- Helen took a step or two backwards to allow Betsy to swing her ample rump out the door and into the centre aisle of the barn.

“For Goodness Sakes!” She cried. “Just what is that gal up to now?” 

“You’ll see”- said Helen with a grin. 

Betsy peered through Lilloweth’s open stallway.

“Oh for …well, I should have known.” Betsy had to laugh.

Lilloweth was sprawled out on her cowcouch. A bowl of popcorn at her side and a pair of the biggest headphones over her bovine ears that Betsy had ever seen! 

“A picture is worth a thousand bags of feed Dear!” Helen batted her huge brown eyes and looked into Lilloweth’s House stall over Betsy’s left shoulder. “She is a gal of the times you know Betsy. She’s so technically advanced than any of the gals along the way.”

“But headphones?” cried Betsy. “Why on earth does she need headphones? It just cuts her off from the rest of us.” 

“Well Darling, I asked her that this morning. She says it’s amazing the extra sounds one hears. The tenderness of the violins, for example. The gentle swissh of a pair of brooms on a snare drum. Oh My Dear, she went on and one about the darn things.”

“But what if I needed her or there was a need to evacuate the Barn. How in Ferdinand’s Name would she hear us? Betsy was concerned.

“I do not know my Dear. I do not know.” Helen shook her head. “Perhaps we should grab her attention and ask for an explanation. 

“A very good idea, Helen.” Betsy stepped further into Lilloweth’s housestall and gently touched her on the shoulder. 

Lilloweth seemed startled for a second, then, she turned around to see Betsy and Helen standing just a few feet from her couch.

“Oh My Goodness!" I was so lost in the music that I just didn’t hear you girls come in!” Lilloweth had taken the headsets from her ears and placed them on the coffee table right next to the popcorn. “Come on in you two. I want to show you my new headphones!” 

“I saw them this morning.”- Helen said.

“Of course you did.” Liloweth turned to Betsy. “Look Betts my new headphones. "They just arrived by  Canpar yesterday." I can’t believe how wonderful they sound- wanna hear?” 

“Not right now.” Betsy plopped herself down on a big bean bag chair. Helen stood next to Lilloweth’s fireplace, warming her back and sides. 

“So what’s cookin’? Lilloweth looked at both gals and smiled. 

“Oh, nothing much Lilly. I had just called over to you to see if you wanted to take a little stroll and you didn’t answer my bellow. That’s when Helen here was strolling by my cowstall and told me to take a peek in your place and I’d see why. So I did and well…” 

“”Gee, I am sorry Betsy. I was just so wrapped up in my music, that I didn’t hear you- obviously.” Lillooet seemed to be truly sorry. 

It was Helen who spoke next.

“Listen Dear. I am just a little concerned that you block out the rest of the world when you wear those things. What if we really needed you or there was a barn emergency or something and you couldn’t hear us call to you?”  

“What kind of an emergency?” Lilloweth’s interest was piqued.

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe a juicy piece of gossip was being bantered about and you’d have to hear it second-hand.” Helen knew that what she said was a pretty weak argument. 

“Betsy gave Helen a stern look and turned to Lilloweth.

“Lilly, it’s just that you need to be aware of what’s going on around you, that’s all. Maybe you could turn down the volume some or maybe keep the headpiece a little ajar on one ear.”

“That’s a great solution. I’ll just keep a portion of my left ear free. Maybe I’ll give you a holler Betts when I have them on and you’ll know that I may not hear you call me the first time at least.” 

“Well I guess.” Betsy decided she could live with that plan. "So what are you listening to anyway?”

“Yes!” Helen broke into the conversation as she turned her backside towards the fire, “Just what are you listening to?” 

“Tommy Hunter!”- was Lilloweth’s reply. “He is such a dreamboat!” 

“Good Night Nurse.” cried Helen. “Look. My programme's coming on. I’ll talk to you Ladies later. See ya Dolls!”

Helen ambled out the doorstall. 

“So you want to take a stroll Lilly? It’s such a nice spring night.” 

“That sounds nice and then we’ll come back and I’ll make us both a nice cup of hot coca. Oh! I made some peanut butter cookies this afternoon.” 

“How’s a gal supposed to keep her figure when you’re always cooking up treats?” 

They both laughed and left Lilloweth’s Housestall with a swoosh of their tails and some hardy tee hee's.

ROBBLOG #378

Just some stuff going on that I have been reading or observing. 

Charles Dickens turns 200 this month. He doesn’t look a day over 150! Mr. Dickens rests in Westminster Abbey. I wonder if he knew how popular A Christmas Carol, Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities would be today. 

Temperatures are moderating in Europe. Why the tulips and Daffodils will be blooming in no time and all that cold will be forgotten. 

Here at home, now that the Winter Carnival is over, can we please start dreaming of springtime? 

A new Movie is coming our way from England. It’s called The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. There are some heavyweights in this film including Dame Judy Dench, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, Dame Maggie Smith and more. The film is opening in the UK now. We should see it hit Canadian Shores in May. Do a Google search. The trailers are quite funny. A group of British retirees check into this hotel and things are not what they expected. Sounds very funny. These are the kinds of films we need. There’s just too much killing, explosions, vampires and zombies up there on the silver screen these days. We have to enjoy little bits of brilliance like The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. They are few and far between. 

Over the weekend, I was researching cities that are far removed from Orillia, Ontario.

Right now, there are many interesting places around the world listening to Swisssh Radio.

Why?
Swisssh is one of 4 Editor’s Picks on the Windows Media Player.

People in many exotic countries and cities are listening such as in Calcutta, India; St. Petersburg, Russia; three cities in Saudi Arabia including Riyadh, Cairo, Egypt; Telford, UK; Malaysia, Saigon, Vietnam (Ho Chi Min City);New Zealand, Tel Aviv, Israel; France, Istanbul, Turkey; Naples, Italy; and the Islamic Republic of Iran. 

One of the places I researched online was Hurghada, Egypt. Hurghada is a Red Sea Resort. Rather than me tell you all about its 40km of well-known hotels and pristine breaches, do a search yourself. You’ll be amazed. Many ex-pat Britons and Germans live there. 

Another country I found fascinating was Malaysia. A melting pot of cultures but websites told me that English is spoken almost everywhere. The country is mainly Muslim. There are local rules about showing “skin” and pointing but it seems quite nice. In fact, I was reading a British Magazine recently and inside was a two page advertisement for Malaysian Medical care that is advertised as being fast, efficient and prompt.

Who knew? 

Whitney Houston died. Wonder if it was drugs?

What is it with stars?

They have it all. Fame, money, opportunity and they still screw it up.

Marilyn Monroe would have been in her 80’s if she were alive today.

Still one of the saddest Hollywood stories of all.

I find it hard to feel sorry for stars that bring about their own downfall and ultimate demise. There are thousands of people who love to have what they have. Some of us are just suited to handle it better than others, I guess. 

Final stuff.

Say if someone hires you because you are good at doing something, shouldn’t that someone just let you do the something you are so good at and just show pleasure and gratification with the result? I mean, I don’t get in there when the plumber’s installing my new shower or when Eduardo at Midas is installing my new Muffler. I trust that they know their job. They do their job and they get it done.

I mean- Geesh! 

Have a good one.

Be happy and enjoy just doing some stuff!

ROBBLOG #377 W E E K E N D Edition

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

Words from a supreme being not of this earth?

Nope.

Bill Shakespeare- and damn good ones too. 

Way back in the mid-to-late 60’s a friend’s Mother spake these “bon mots” to me.

I thought she was so smart.

“Unto thine own self be true.”

I thought she had me figured out pretty well.

Maybe she did.

About two years ago I was able to tell this friend’s Mother that I had never forgotten what she said to me- even if it was Shakespeare’s holy words and not hers.

She smiled and half nodded. 

They are tough words to live up to.

Put yourself first and then help others.

Be who you are not a facsimile of someone else.

Stand proud.

Make something of yourself using everything you have.

Use knowledge.

Presence.

Love.

Understanding. 

The road can be long and there can be many pitfalls along the way. You have to learn how to dodge them. Many times we fall into life’s potholes several times before we learn how to walk around them- or crawl out of them at the very least. 

I have just finished reading Margaret Trudeau’s (Kemper) latest book “Changing My Mind”.

It was terrific.

An uplifting experience.

Her words forced tears to flow more than twice.

Sometimes, quite un-expectantly. 

Madame Trudeau travelled a difficult road. She was the wife of one of our most famous Prime Ministers when still but a girl. She lost the youngest of three sons- Michel, in an avalanche at Kokanee Glacier. She divorced a Prime Minister and re-married to have two more children. She mourned the passing of Pierre Elliot Trudeau with her children.

She fought demons through it all.

In her book she bares her soul.

Being through bouts of deep depression over the years, her words struck a chord within me. 

On Page 280 (of Changing My Mind; Harper Collins) she writes-

“Like a small child I had to learn new responses to life:

Not to overreact in the face of criticism,

Not to wallow in shame and loathing,

Not to protect myself with delusion,

Not to blame others for my own inappropriate responses…..

The fifth stage, acceptance… 

Like Mrs. Trudeau I too thought I was “condemned to a life of unhappiness.” (page 280 Harper Collins Changing My Mind) However, I tried to be true to myself.

I still do every day.

Sometimes it gets me in trouble. I try to lean on last year’s Resolution “Keep my mouth shut” but I do fail- occasionally. 

The most important thing that I have learned in recent years and through Margaret Trudeau’s teachings in this book is summed up in those four short lines above.

Not to overreact.

Be proud of who I am.

Live a true, vivid life every day

and

I am my own liquor control board.

Ms. Trudeau didn’t say those words, a friend said those words to me years ago and it fits any given situation- not just when one is confronted with over-drinking.

I have learned that I am my own” board”.

I am in control.

My life’s consequences come from me- no one else. 

It’s never too late to have an “Ah-Hah!” moment.

You know when you have one. The yellow brick road opens up in front of you. You click your heels and skip along staying true to you. Just being you and doing the best job you can. 

This above all- To Thine Own Self- Be True.”

ROBBLOG # 376

It's February.

I’m sitting here thinking of shaving my head and getting a big tattoo just above the crack of my butt.
What else is there to do or think about?

I'm not up for an Academy Award, a Genie or even a Juno this year.
I'm not doing any theatre, therefore- since I'm not learning dialogue, I have a lot of free time on my hands.
There's no renovation going on around the house like last year when a new master bath was under construction.
No painting either since that was all done last year at this time.
So, I have no cleanup duties to perform.

Since my family has dis-owned me and would rather not have me around- I'm such a bastard you know, that frees up a lot of time.
Yes, a lot of time!
Now I have even more time to think about devious ways to be a bastard to people who are outside my family.
Wait!
I've done that too.
Yes siree, being a bastard offers one a bunch of free time to do a bunch of important stuff.
Best of all it's free.
Doesn't cost me a cent.

Now listen, I am just having you on.
I am not a bastard.
I'm just passing time.
At least I don't believe that I am- no matter what people say.
Why?
What have you heard?
Nevermind.

I guess my day-to-day life seems pretty dull and calm compared to the rich and famous and media types.
I work and shop at the local WalMart.
I watch a bit of TV.
I read a book or two now and then. Right now it's Margaret Trudeau's "Changing my Mind".
It made me cry today.
What she went through with Pierre and loosing Michel to an avalanche.
She's been to hell and back but is still going strong.

Up next I go back and finish a book about Atheism. The jist of the book being that religion poisons everything.
A truthful read but heavy going.

Then, I watched a movie about the end of the world the other night. Light disppears and it's all dark. Most of it anyway- except here in Canada where life just goes on as normal.
Isn't it great living in this country knowing that the imaginary boarder protects us from all kinds of crap and nasty stuff?
It was a bit of a spooky film though. Shadowy shapes waiting for someone human to leave the "light" and snap them up and leave all their clothes and shoes and jewellery just lying in the street.
Funny though...
Only their outside clothes remained but not their underwear. So, wherever these shadowy figures live, they all stand around in their tighty whities.
The other night I flipped by another freeky film- Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. Fine performances from Joan Crawford and Better
Davis. A black and white film.
The first time I saw it on Television had to be on the old  21 inch black and white when I still lived at home. It brings back terrible childhood memories.
Not the movie- my family!
We were the last to have a colour television set. I was mortified when friends would come over and see an old console model black and white flickering away in my parent’s living room. We were too poor to have a rec room.

Oh, but the console was handsome in its day. Twenty one inches of glorious back and white screen. A turntable with 78, 45 and 33 r.p.m. speeds. An AM/FM Radio that lit up all green and red and sounded wonderful-even when I played my scratchy albums. There was an old 8 track in that console too.
Wow! Music on tape and not on a vinyl record. It was magical at the time.
The wave of the future!
The B&W console had stereo speakers with fuzzy brown covers interspersed with gold thread.
It was very pretty.
When I was alone in the house, I loved cranking the set up full blast to hear Motown artists reverberate throughout the room. Little nick-knacks shivered and shook on the shelves that were attached to the wall above.
It was heaven!

This all changed though when colour televisions became the norm. The black and white console became uninspiring and old-fashioned. We never had another console TV at my parent’s home. When the colour television came into the house it was called a Portable Television-even though it weighed a ton. It was housed in a brown metal cabinet that had a wooden, mac-tack type of covering on it. It was a beauty though.
Seeing the Beverley Hillbillies in colour was remarkable.
Now today, nothing less than 50 inches can really even be called a television.

So here I sit and ponder life in the month of February.
Maybe I'll shave my head?
Then get a tattoo?

I might even write a blog...

ROBBLOG # 375

Yesterday I was handling hot underwear- it had just come out of the dryer, when I had an epiphany. 

I was lucky, I thought.

Very lucky. 

I smiled as this warmth of discovery flushed over me. I may have been flushed from the dryer heat but just the same, I felt warm all over.

I pulled another pair of undies from the dryer.

"Look what I have"- I mumbled to myself. 

Why I may only have 20 good years left- that according to a neighbour’s timeline once one hits 60 years of age, but they will be good ones. Age is certainly on my mind these days. It especially stands out when I read that Actor Ben Gazzara passed a few days ago at 81 years of age.

I still remember him from the 60’s and 70’s.

How did he get to be 80 plus?

It happens to us all. 

I reach for a pile of socks inside the dryer, throw them on top of the washer and begin to match them up. There are many situations that bewilder and upset me at this stage of life.

Among those things?

My family.

I have given up on that. After all I only have 20 good years left. Not enough time to understand that mess. We’ve been talking about packing up and moving- far, far away. Time will tell. 

Religion- the faith that is the poison of the masses, separating friends and family.

God Bless Atheism. 

Conservative politics and a man who is changing the face of our country with a majority that really isn’t a majority since 60% of us voted for another party. 

Then there’s winter, of course. I can’t change that but I can look at photographs and dream of a Hawaiian wind gently caressing my face. 

It’s a good thing that “good” things outweigh the not so good things.

I have a roof over my head- that’s all paid for, with food in the fridge. Well, most days anyway. It’s a pain shopping for something to eat- especially if I’m going through a stretch of time when Tom’s away and it’s just me and the kids. What to eat is always the question of the day. 

I am able to travel here and there. That’s good. There were even a few days when I removed myself from our mild winter back in January to Southern California. In the past year I have been to New York, Paris- twice, Mainz, Germany and Newport Beach California. In a few weeks I’ll add Paris for the third time within a year!

It’s just as wonderful as it sounds.

Be jealous! 

I have a small circle- it’s getting smaller all the time, of friends I am grateful for these days. I don’t have a best friend really, just a few friends that pop into and out of my life. Today I have know many of these “friends” for many years. They have staying power, whereas there always seems to be a handful that comes in and out on one’s life every year or two. It’s a revolving door. I keep it well-oiled. 

A newer friend told me the other day that Tom and I just can’t move, since she had just met us a couple of years ago.

What would she do without us?

Manage, I suppose.

That’s what we all do from day to day- manage.

Just try to keep a smile on our face and enjoy the various minutes of every day.

It’s a good thing to have a few bucks in one’s pocket.

That’s always nice.

I’m not rich, I just have a buck or two or three to buy a coffee, a 10 dollar tee shirt at Wal*Mart or a couple of light bulbs at the dollar store if the mood strikes me.

Having Tom in my life for 27 years is better than a good thing. It’s my whole life.

The pets that share our home are all good things.

Loving things. 

Then, there’s all the stuff. The house, the clocks, the nutcrackers, the Santa Claus collection and more. All nice to have around but just stuff. 

So the next time you’re pulling hot underwear from the dryer take a moment to marvel at all the good things in your life.

Like Scarlett O’Hara there’s not a heck of a lot of time to “think about it tomorrow.”

ROBBLOG #374 W E E K E N D Edition

Today Wiarton Willie says spring is a few weeks away.

Our friends at “We’re In The Hayfield Now” sent us their 2012 Daylily Brochure and it arrived today.

Yesterday at Both Zellers and Canadian Tire brightly-coloured chair cushions were on display along with gazebos, watering cans and seeds. 

It’s all downhill from here folks and it hasn’t even been a long uphill trip this winter to begin with. Heck, I was still riding my bike in January for pete’s sake!

If this is global warming- I’m impressed.

Very impressed.

I’m liking it.

A lot.

I do feel bad for the polar bears who are having difficulty finding ice to stretch out during short, sunny, arctic days but I think they’ll evolve.

At least I hope they will. 

For me an early spring after a wimpy winter is a win-win.

I know we’ll save on Natural Gas consumption.

The electric heather in the bedroom was turned down a notch this winter compared with others. 

I really do miss the warmth of summer.

I hate the cold and snow and believe me I have tried to love it but as an example, I can’t find anything good about a Carnival being held smack-dab in the middle of February.

People bundle up to walk around with freezing toes.

They jump into ice-cold water a la Polar Bears.

Kids zip around and around on the Midway’s Scrambler Ride adding to the wind chill that’s already in the air. 

What’s to miss?

What’s not to dislike about winter?

The head honcho of the Winter Carnival actually told Heather Thompson and I during our “Morning Show at Night” heard “live” on Swisssh Radio Thursday Night’s at 7PM, that he prefers July too.

(Yes, that was shameless self-promotion)

The difference is he puts up with winter.

He plays in it and with it.

He embraces it.

I hate it.

I wish it would disappear. 

I have to spend money to get away from it.

I have to leave.

Whatever it takes.

In fact in a couple of years I hope my entire winter will be in a warm, southerly or westerly place.

I am dreaming of that winter.

I am dreaming of my place in the sun. 

So when Willie says spring is nigh.

I smile. 

When the Daylily Brochure for 2012 arrives I feel warm all over. 

I even close my eyes and squeeze the chair cushions piled high on department store shelves. I feel sun on my face and a warm wind at my back. 

C’mon heat! 

I can’t wait to once again slip into my original Tori Richard Hawaiian Shirt

and saunter down the street. 

Spring!

Summer!

Robbie’s waiting for you.