Fifteen Minutes of Fame

While Mrs. Wonders sleeps, I take my morning coffee on the front porch and peruse the latest edition of The Daily Snooze.

***

On page three, I read a story about the continuing labour dispute at the CBC. The CBC is the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, our nation's public television and radio broadcaster.

Some people think the CBC is a waste of taxpayers money. I could not disagree more. For me, it's the only thing worth watching or listening to.

When it comes to news, it's the only source where they might be telling the truth.

***

Below the article, there is a segment devoted to citizen opinions about the labour dispute. There are even pictures of those who were interviewed.

Front and centre among the pictures, I see Oscar's smiling face.

***

This is not the first time I have been startled by Oscar's sudden appearance in print or on television. For some reason, he's frequently asked for his opinions while strolling through the old town.

Oscar claims that he was voted "Most Likely To Be Picked For A Man-in-the-Street Interview" by his graduating high school class. This is probably true.

***

After the Burning Manor fire, Oscar was interviewed in The Sack by a local television station. He did a terrific job describing the fire and the neighbourhood's reaction to it.

As a condition for doing the interview, Oscar demanded that it be held in front of his garage. At the time, he was selling his second car. There was a large 'For Sale" sign on the car with a visible phone number.

When the interview was televised, the car was featured prominently over his left shoulder.

Oscar sold the car a week later. He says the buyer saw it during the television interview. I remain very doubtful about this.

***

Last summer, Oscar was interviewed by The Chronically Horrid.

He was at the Gay Pride Parade with his wife, G.W. and their son, Dorian. He was identified by the reporter as a heterosexual family man in support of the gay community.

Oscar was a bit miffed with the reporter's description. He felt the reporter was making an assumption about someone's sexuality, on the basis of their marital and parental status. He says he called The Chronically Horrid and complained.

Oscar says he told them his wife is transgendered. I remain very doubtful about this, too.

***

Whenever Oscar is in the newspaper, he will ask me very casually, if I have read the paper that day.

I make a point of saying, "Yeah, but there was nothing of interest."

***

Another time, Oscar was interviewed at the Cannabis Day Picnic by The Daily Snooze. He tells me that he was merely walking by the picnic at the time.

This could be true, but I will leave lots of room for doubt.

***

There is no accounting for the number of times Oscar has been interviewed by the media as an ordinary citizen. It is getting to the point where I am afraid to read the newspaper or watch the television news.

Perhaps the CBC labour problem is not such a bad thing after all.

***

In total, Oscar claims that he has used up approximately eight of his fifteen minutes of fame. He says he has very big plans for the remaining seven.

***

Recycle This

We were remiss in our previous post about regular visitors to The Sack.

There is one person who visits The Sack on a weekly basis. He's either the last vestige of a bygone era or a new breed of street entrepreneur.

***

Eddie is a wisp of man who is somewhere in his mid-forties.

He's barely over five feet and has deeply tanned, weather-beaten skin. There is a faint hint of a moustache under his nose. Eddie also likes to wear an old Civil War hat. And he rolls his own cigarettes.

A strong wind would likely send Eddie airborne. He is that thin.

***

Garbage day in The Sack is on Friday. To Eddie, garbage is a very serious business indeed.

He roams his territory in the old town in search of recycleable bottles and cans. These items are redeemable for five cents each. On a good day, Eddie tells me he can make over a hundred dollars.

Twice a week, Eddie follows his route on foot. He says he walks over twenty kilometres each day. And he does this while pushing a grocery cart that's buried under large plastic bags, filled with cans and bottles. The bags are piled impossibly high. There are bags tied to the cart, as well.

If you've ever seen How the Grinch Stole Christmas, you'll know what I mean. (The old cartoon version, not the movie.)

***

Another interesting thing about Eddie: He wears a thick, leather tool-belt around his waist. It's laden with screwdrivers, pliers, wire cutters, and even a hammer.

There is no bag, box or bale that can keep Eddie out.

***

The first time I saw Eddie was on a very foggy day in The Sack. While putting my garbage at the curb, I suddenly noticed what appeared to be a man with a donkey cart emerging from the fog. As he got closer, he seemed more like a wild nomad from some futuristic, post-nuclear war society.

Either way, he was a bit startling to see for the first time.

***

I once asked Eddie if I could push his cart for a moment, just to gauge its weight. I'm not a very big man myself, but beside Eddie, I look like the governor of California. I could push the cart with effort, but couldn't imagine the stamina needed to cover the distance he does.

***

Oscar, of course, is very well-acquainted with Eddie. He and I have discussed old Eddie on a number of occasions.

We've agreed that Eddie should enjoy most favoured status among those who seek out recycleable goods in The Sack. This may sound condescending, but the collection of recycleable material is part of a ferocious underground economy in the old town.

This competitive hunt begins on Thursday evenings, when many Sack residents have put their garbage outside. Pick-up trucks, vans and even the dreaded SUV will drive slowly through the street. The backs of these vehicles are often stuffed with bags of bottles and cans.

Blue bags will be emptied of any redeemable can or bottle. Anything made of metal will be taken in mere seconds.

***

Oscar once put an old rusted barbeque at the curb for collection. He'd barely put it down before a pick-up truck carted it away. Oscar was fine with this.

He says that's exactly how he got the barbeque in the first place.

A few years ago, Mrs. Wonder's and I put an old couch out on the curb. I went back into the house to get the removeable legs. When I got back to the curb, I saw the couch disappearing down The Sack in the back of a truck.

I stood in the street, awkwardly waving the legs, but to no avail.

***

So here is Eddie's story: He's on social assistance. He hasn't worked in a regular job for over fifteen years. This is because of his bad back.

Watching him push his cart around, one might have doubts about this.

***

According to Oscar, Eddie admits that he's an alcoholic.

If this is true, he is certainly a very organized one. He says he uses his recycling income strictly for beer, tobacco and the occasional restaurant meal. Social assistance covers everything else. He claims that he has only missed one day of collecting (other than storm days) in the last seven years. That was after his brother died.

Eddie says he was very drunk that day.

***

Oscar says he's seen Eddie drink the remnants from discarded beer cans. I've never seen this myself, but I think it's true. Oscar will sometimes put a few full cans of beers in his blue bag for Eddie.

I'm uncertain about and touched by this action.

***

So Oscar, myself and several other Sack residents reserve our redeemable cans and bottles for Eddie. Curiously, we seem to be the ones most accustomed to drink. This is a definite advantage for Eddie.

It is common for Oscar to prolong an evening by invoking Eddie's name: "Let's have one more, so Eddie will have a good week."

It's a very successful ploy.

***

Reserving our cans and bottles for Eddie is not a simple matter. Most of us leave our blue bags on the porch for him. He knows that it's okay to pick them up there. This doesn't, of course, stop other collectors from taking the bags.

This has lead to several confrontations with collectors who arrive in vehicles. From our perspective, these folks have the money to drive, so they mustn't need the money as badly as Eddie.

Several collectors have had nasty run-ins with Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a staunch backer of Eddie. Interestly, she has never spoken to him. In fact, she seems almost frightened by him.

But she knows his story and this means something to her.

***

Oscar sees Eddie as some kind of street philosopher.

I'm not so sure about that. But Eddie does like nothing better than to stop, talk and smoke for awhile. There have been times where I've talked with Eddie for over half an hour, before he resumes his route.

When Eddie's in The Sack, Oscar makes a point of taking the blue bag right out to him. They'll talk for a bit and Oscar's laugh will echo through The Sack. It's like a regular part of the week for both of them.

Our streets probably need more of this kind of social contact. In fact, this is one thing I am pretty certain about.

***

Rock Around The Sack

In the so-called 'old days', there were familiar faces who visited a neigbourhood on a daily basis.

These friendly faces might include those who delivered mail, milk or bread. One might even remember the old craftsmen who would come around to sharpen people's knives.

Today, however, even the hallowed paperboy is a thing of the past.

***

In the Sack, mail is delivered to a central "super box" on an adjacent street.

Most residents check their mail once per week. Oscar claims that "no good" can come from checking one's mail at all. He will only visit his mail box when Canada Post calls to say his box is full.

Newspaper delivery is now a full-time job, carried out by adults who drive around in cars. Any day now, newspaper delivery will become a profession. One will need to be certified.

Maybe, this isn't a bad idea.

***

The young woman who delivers my Daily Snooze drives around in a battered Toyota. Oscar describes her as a rocker chick, because she is always clad in a concert t-shirt and wearing a red bandana around her head. I'm not sure if this qualifies one for rocker chick status.

She usually delivers the paper around five o'clock in the morning. Her car makes several distinctive noises which have awakened me on a number of occasions. I've watched from my bedroom window as she alights from her car and throws the paper in the general direction of the house.

Occasionally, the paper will land on our porch. This only seems to happen when the weather is warm and dry. I have retrieved papers from snowbanks, bushes and from under my car. Not long ago, I discovered a month-old paper on the porch roof.

***

A young man delivers the old town's other newspaper, The Chronically Horrid.

He usually arrives around 4 a.m. in another older vehicle. He is a big fan of heavy metal music. He parks his car in the middle of The Sack and leaves the door open while he delivers the papers. The volume of his car stereo is set to cranked.

There is nothing more refreshing than awakening to the dulcet tones of Guns & Roses.

***

Computer Doug is a man who travels a great deal in his work. Often, he must be on a plane at six o'clock in the morning.

On such days, Computer Doug claims that he has no need for an alarm clock. Instead, he says he simply gets up when he hears the driving drums and guitars of Anthrax.

***

Oscar and I have wondered if the rocker chick from the Daily Snooze and the heavy metal guy from The Chronically Horrid have ever met each other. Neither of us have ever seen them in The Sack at the same time.

We agree they might like each other very much. They seem to have much in common. We wonder if love could spring from such a union.

Each day they must barely miss being in The Sack at the same time. Some day in the future, it will be fate that will bring them together.

Oscar says he's working on a rock opera relating to their story. He has yet to share it with me.

***

The point of all this is the following: Other than their annoying habits, Sack residents know little, if anything, about their professional news delivery people, mail carriers or any other service providers.

Things are much more impersonal these days. This can't be a good thing, unless of course, Oscar successfully writes a rock opera and Computer Doug gets to the airport on time.

***

Cast of Characters

As tales from The Sack continue, one might need a program to keep track of the residents. As a public service, and in no particular order, here is our cast of main Sack people, so far:

***

Oscar: The entertainer, the straw that stirs the drink. Everyone in The Sack knows Oscar. Usually at the centre of every gathering. Just listen for the laugh. First mentioned in "Quiet on the Set, Please" Shows up in most posts because he's very hard to ignore.

Dougs: There are four of them. That's right. . .four. We await confirmation from the Guinness people about a world record ("Most Dougs in a Cul de sac"). Three Dougs were first introduced in Dougs I Know. Not included in the list below is Doug That Moved. He moved away.

• Big Doug: Keeper of the perfect lawn; rumoured to use plutonium as a fertilizer. If it's broke, he can fix it.
  
  
• Little Doug: Owns tools you couldn't even name. Bought house owned by Doug That Moved. Has coughing fits to get out of boring conversations.
  
  
• Computer Doug: Has nothing in common with previous two Dougs. Has seen more live concerts than you.
  
  
• Rental Doug: Recently moved to The Sack. Could be related to the Devil. First mentioned in Spies, Lies and Surprises.
  
  

Florence: The Wonders' next door neighbour. First mentioned in Naming Rights.

Mulva: Florence's boarder until Christmas. She's here from Korea to learn English. Also known as Tammy. Also introduced in Naming Rights.

Elizabeth: Prim, proper and prone to wine. First introduced in First We See England, Then We See France.

Burning Manor: Can a house be a character? This one can. Read about the night they burned the old manor down in Fire in The Sack.

Dirk & Dora: Owners of the now-defunct Burning Manor. Meet Dirk and Dora in Burning Manor (Parts I & II). No longer living in The Sack and one hopes it will remain this way.

Gordon: Good at complaining. So good at it, many officials in the old town won't answer his calls anymore. If it's bad and it happens in The Sack, Gordon will be the first one to know about it. Habitual writer of 'letters to the editor.' Introduced in Enter the Peelers.

Doo: Age 6. Having trouble with the childhood development thing. Will make a speech therapist rich some day. Charming kid, but has his work cut out for him. Meet him in Doo the Right Thing.

Dorian: Oscar's boy, age 12. The focus of Oscar's concerns in Oscar's Premonition.

Tremayne: Aged 5, but twice as smart as Doo. Introduced in Random Samplings.

***

Random Samplings

Today's task is to simply digest some of the bits and pieces of Sack news which have accumulated during the week.

***

It looks like the Burning Manor saga is not over. Dirk was here this week, along with a restoration company that specializes in fire and water damage.

Gordon is furious about the matter. Oscar and I think Dirk might be repairing the house, so he can sell it. But the house is a disaster and rebuilding would seem impossible. Either way, I'm not crazy about seeing these folks return. I just don't have room for any more shenanigans.

Gordon is certain that Burning Manor will rise again. He just can't figure out who to complain to.

***

Young Doo, my six-year-old friend, has a new helmet to wear when he's riding his bike. I can't really say 'bike helmet', because, well. . . it isn't a bike helmet.

Instead, Doo has a very expensive hockey helmet. It has a very sophisticated fastening system and it sits firmly on his head. Doo has no idea how to get it off.

I must give his mother credit. She has surprised me with her creativity.

***

One of the younger Sack kids came to our door the other night. Tremayne is only about five years old, but he's smart and funny. Our conversation went like this:

Tremayne: "Do you wanna buy a chocolate bar?"

Guy W.: "What's it for?"

Tremayne: "For eatin'."

Guy W.: "No, why are you selling them?"

Tremayne: "So you can eat it."

Guy W.: "No, I mean. . .where is the money going?"

Tremayne: "I'm gonna put it in my pocket."

Guy W.: "And who will you give the money to?"

Tremayne: "My brother."

Guy W.: "And what's he going to do with the money?"

Tremayne: "Put it in his pocket."

Guy W.: "What kind of chocolate is it?"

Tremayne: "It's brown."

Guy W.: "OK, I think we have a deal."

Eventually, I deduce that Tremayne's brother is selling the chocolate bars for a school fund-raiser. I can see his brother playing with some other kids in The Sack's centre circle. He has enlisted Tremayne to sell the bars for him. This is what little brothers are for.

It's also a smart idea to subcontract the job to Tremayne. If Mrs. Wonders answered the door to Tremayne, she'd buy every bar the tyke had. She thinks Tremayne is that cute. I think she's probably right.

***

There are lots of spider webs around Sack houses these days. The fascinating little creatures build webs on porches, between shrubs, across stairways, and just about everywhere else.

I heard a shriek from Mrs. Wonders the other day when she was coming up the stairs on the back deck. She forgot to check for webs before proceeding up the stairs and walked straight through a rather large one. She was wearing shorts at the time and noticed the web only after it became enmeshed with her legs, spider included.

At this time of year, Sack residents wave their arms and legs in front of them, whenever they're coming out of their homes or walking between trees or shrubs. It's a local, seasonal dance.

***

Florence now has a second Korean student staying at her home. This woman is a teacher and she'll be here for about a month.

There was no mention of giving this new visitor an English name. We've had just about enough naming controversies in The Sack of late. Besides, Oscar has been keeping a low profile for the last few days and some think it best to keep it that way for a while.

Florence also said that Mulva is fine with having another Korean in the house.

***

Finally, Mrs. Wonders has a brother who lives in Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Ironically, he took in some friends from New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. After yesterday's Hurricane Rita, it looks like he may have lost his own home.

Fortunately, he evacuated to a more northern location. The next few days will tell whether or not his home withstood the weather. Early reports, however, are not promising.

***

Slip, Slap or Punch?

Mrs. Wonders and I decide to view television together.

The only program that captures Mrs. Wonders' attention is a reality show on CNN. Contestants are required to stand in the midst of a raging hurricane while yelling into a microphone. Apparently, the last one standing is considered the winner.

Mrs. Wonders can't decide who to root for. But she hopes this Anderson Cooper chap will blow away in the first round.

***

Above the din of a screaming contestant, we hear the unmistakable striking of human flesh. This is followed by brief, but angry cursing.

These sounds are coming from The Sack.

***

Instinctively, we rush to the front window. As usual, Mrs. Wonders is there first and enjoys the best vantage point.

Over her shoulder, I see a couple from across the street leaving their car. The passenger door on the driver side is ajar. A man is kneeling on the driveway beside the open door.

He's in considerable pain. Even from our vantage point, we can hear him moan.

***

Curiously, the couple is indifferent to the man's plight. They walk casually up their front steps and enter the house. They do not look back.

By this time, the man is on his feet. He's limping badly and in obvious discomfort. He follows the couple into the house.

***

Mrs. Wonders and I are deeply unsatisfied. We're unable to develop a full narrative of what has taken place. There are loose ends here.

***

It is too late in the evening to converse with other correspondents in The Sack. Gordon is asleep at the switch as his front window sits empty. At least for tonight, we must tackle this one alone.

***

We review the gamut of possibilities.We know the three people travelled home together.We assume the injured man is a friend or relative of the couple. What happened next is pure conjecture. We come up with the following:

• The man was assaulted by the husband as he left the
  car. The wife approved.
  
  

  He was assaulted by the wife. The husband
  approved.
  
  

  He fell as he exited the car. Both husband and wife
  approved.
  
  

For the next hour, we explore possible motives. We go over the sequence of events again and again.

***

Over an hour passes before we've exhausted all possibilities. The television remains unwatched. In jest, we talk of quitting our jobs and starting a detective agency.

We could work from home.

***

That's Familiar

At times, a cul de sac can be a very intimate setting.

This doesn't necessarily mean that people have closer relationships. But residents certainly get to know each other better than in other urban settings. And this can breed a certain level of comfort and a more communal atmosphere.

Take that, New Urbanism movement.

***

One day this week, I decide to walk to work. This takes about forty-five minutes. But it's a pleasant autumn day and the walk allows for quiet thought and introspection.

Mrs. Wonders takes a well-deserved day off from work. She has our car available for whatever errands or outings which might interest her.

***

During my lunch hour, I take a stroll through the downtown quarter. The sun is shining and there's a hint of the ocean in the air. The street is filled with people, many, like me, enjoying one of the remaining days of favourable weather.

Suddenly, I notice a car passing by. It is our car and, strangely, Mrs. Wonders isn't in it.

Instead, I see Florence, our next door neighbour at the wheel. An elderly woman I don't recognize sits in the passenger seat.

***

While surprised, I remain unconcerned. There is surely a good reason for Florence to be driving our car. Perhaps her car is unavailable and Mrs. Wonders has graciously given loan of ours.

This is the way of The Sack.

***

At the end of the day, I return home. Walking up our street, I see Computer Doug cutting his grass. The grimace on his face is easy to notice.

Computer Doug is not a man who enjoys home maintenance.

Whenever he's engaged in one of these activities, one is immediately aware that he's been assigned to the task. His wife, Marion, typically looks after these matters. But she has gone out of town for a few days.

I walk by Computer Doug unnoticed because he is grimacing with his head down. But I do observe that he is using my lawn mower.

***

This does not concern me, either. Quite likely, he has run over the electrical cord on his mower once again. Mrs. Wonders has likely offered the use of our lawn mower.

This, too, is the way of The Sack.

***

I walk up the front steps to our home. Mrs. Wonders has left the front door opened, so the fresh air can stream through the outer screen door.

I like the old screen door a great deal. It makes a comforting, creaking sound when it's opened. I could lubricate the hinges, but I prefer the sound.

***

As I enter the house, I call out to Mrs. Wonders. I use a term of endearment used only in the privacy of our own lives. I couldn't bear to tell you what it is.

Just before entering our front room, I hear a reply.

"Hi, honey, you're home.", says the voice.

***

Sitting comfortably in my front room is Oscar. He is resting on the overstuffed armchair, with his feet upon the ottoman. He has already been supplied with drink. And he's listening to Tom Waits.

Mrs. Wonders is nowhere to be found.

***

Oscar enjoys my front room immensely. He says it looks like his would, if he had made "different decisions. By this, he is referring to procreation.

Mrs. Wonders, according to Oscar, is over at his house, enjoying coffee with his wife, B.W.

B.W. stands for Bad Wife. She is alternatively known as G.W. or Good Wife. Her name, at any given time, depends on how much mischief Oscar has caused.

***

I tell Oscar that I will join him for drink momentarily. Proceeding upstairs to change into more casual attire, I notice a shaggy-haired youth sitting in my home office.

It is Oscar's son, Dorian. He is doing either homework or inviting viruses into my computer. He could be doing both.

***

When I return, I discover that Oscar is no longer in the front room. Through the screen door, I see a gaggle of Sack residents ensconced on our front steps.

I walk outside and I'm greeted warmly by Mrs. Wonders. Sitting on our steps, various types of drink in hand, are the following: Florence and her aunt, now returned with our car from a medical appointment, and Oscar, with his arm draped affectionately around his wife, G.W.

Finally, there is Computer Doug, his distasteful duties now complete.

***

It seems that an evening barbeque is being organized. Everyone is embroiled in a discussion of the meal.

I feel a slight sense of disorientation.

Oscar equips me with drink, as I slowly sit down on the top step. Within moments, the feeling passes and I find myself in the midst of the laughter and good cheer.

This, too, is the way of The Sack.

***

A Devil of a Time

It is a cool autumn evening in The Sack. There is still daylight, but a light shroud of fog has descended on the street.

Oscar and I sit pensively on my front steps. We have eschewed after-dinner drink in favour of freshly-brewed coffee.

There is little movement in The Sack. We can only see Big Doug puttering about in his yard. I wonder silently if there is plutonium involved in his labour. But, I dare not raise this with Oscar.

***

Oscar breaks the silence and asks, "Does it ever bother you that men of the cloth don't want to live here?"

There have been two ministers who have lived in The Sack. Neither stayed for longer than a year. In fact, one stayed for barely three months before selling his home.

Oscar has raised this matter before. When he is feeling rueful or blue, the minister thing becomes of greater concern to him.

***

In Oscar's eyes, the quick departures of the ministers suggest something sinister is afoot in The Sack. There is, as he puts it, something ominous about the whole thing.

This time, I simply say to him, "I think your Catholicism is acting up again."

***

But Oscar will have none of this.

"Seriously, he says, have you considered that two ministers have lived here, in houses right next to each other. . . and neither chose to stay?"

***

I point out that both men left for plausible reasons.

William, for one, was a wonderful man who lived in The Sack for about a year, along with his young family. He was a minister from China, charged with building a new congregation in the old town.

Unfortunately, there is only a very small Chinese community here. William had no choice but to move to a larger urban area.

I also mention that William still owns a property in The Sack. This house is currently occupied by Rental Doug and his blended family.

***

The other minister never really lived here at all. He had the house built in anticipation of retirement. He was still living in another province and only came home on occasional weekends.

However, his retirement plans changed and he sold the house.

***

But the logic of my argument only reinforces Oscar's position.

"Plausible enough, he concedes, but hardly proof of anything."

***

Oscar's theory about the ministers borders on the fantastic. He believes that the forces of evil have conspired to occupy a roost in The Sack.

"So, you're saying that the Devil, himself, is living in one of those two homes?", I ask.

Oscar looks at me with a cocked eyebrow, as if I'm consumed with drink. "Of course, not." he says. "The Sack is far too unimportant for him. He would need a place with more panache."

"An agent of the Devil would be far more likely."

***

Occupying one of the homes is a very nice couple named Ben and Norma. Finer people could not be imagined.

Oscar readily agrees that neither Ben, nor Norma, is doing the Devil's business in The Sack.

***

This, of course, leaves Rental Doug as the primary candidate for evil-doing.

The original purpose of our evening was to review the permanence of the name we have given to Rental Doug. I should have known why Oscar has returned to the minister issue on this particular night.

***

"So, you think Rental Doug has ties to Lucifer?", I ask.

Oscar ponders this for a time and then says, "Well, he does drive a red car. Red is associated with danger and fire. . . and he moved here right after the Burning Manor affair."

Rental Doug drives a red Honda Accord. I hardly think such a sensible car reflects the Devil's style. Satan's people, I tell Oscar, would drive something far more ostentatious.

***

At this point, our discussion deteriorates further. We begin to argue about the vehicles that various personas might drive. We reach the zenith of absurdity when Oscar asks, "What would Jesus drive?"

Oscar thinks He would drive a hybrid vehicle, something that reflects an environmental sensibility. I disagree strongly and suggest that the Son of God would undoubtedly take the bus at every opportunity.

***

Eventually, we return to the matter of Rental Doug. Oscar argues that Rental Doug may not even be a Doug at all. He may have chosen this name to blend in amongst the other Dougs. This way, according to Oscar, he could "fly under our radar."

In the end, Oscar finally concedes that Rental Doug should retain the moniker we have given him. We have agreed in the past that such decisions must be unanimous. He had pushed hard for the names Evil Doug, Satanic Doug and even, Beelzebub. But I will have none of this.

To ease Oscar's concession on the matter, I agree that we will keep a very close eye on Rental Doug. At the first sign of an evil deed, as Oscar puts it, we can reopen the debate.

***

The business part of our agenda is complete, so we return our empty coffee cups to my kitchen. With the serious matters of The Sack behind us, it is now time for the drink.

***

Sunday Chores

Ah, Sunday.....the day of rest and relaxation.....even more so in these parts, for there is none of the dreaded Sunday shopping.

But there is one task for this day. We must tidy up the miscellaneous bits of Sack business that have gathered during my hiatus in Upper Canada.

***

Firstly, Tropical Storm Ophelia proved to be much ado about nothing. Thankfully, she dissipated nicely as she approached our neck of the woods. Mrs. Wonders and I spent the afternoon unbattening the hatches of the homestead.

***

The word 'ado', mentioned above, reminds us of young Doo. I am told that Doo had several spectacular spills on his bicycle during my absence. Both were of the kind where Doo screamed like a banshee and brought Sack residents to their doors.

Mrs. Wonders was first on the scene of the initial crash.

Poor Doo suffered cuts and bruises to his head. This might not have happened had he been wearing a bike helmet. As noted here before, Doo used to have a penchance for riding through The Sack, clad only in a helmet. When fully clothed, he seems to have little use for it.

The second spill resulted in cuts and scrapes to his foot and ankle. Doo was wearing a helmet this time, but was riding barefooted.

While speaking with Doo today, I noticed that his head injuries did not, unfortunately, result in any improvement in his diction or pronunciation.

***

The leaves are starting to turn colour in The Sack, an obvious harbinger of the winter to come. Big Doug has been observed cleaning his snow shovels in anticipation. Not only is he a master of tool maintenance, but Big Doug is a man who takes snow shoveling very seriously.

***

Dirk and Dora, the unfortunate owners of Burning Manor were seen in The Sack last week. Sources say they performed a 'drive-by' of the condemned dwelling.

Gordon is threatening to write a letter to the editor, if the duo decides to rebuild in The Sack.

***

Oscar returned this afternoon, full of tales of debauchery from France. He recalls being asked to leave the Moulin Rouge in Paris, but remains foggy about the details.

As a token of friendship, Oscar presented me with a cigarette lighter. The Eiffel Tower is etched on the side of it. When the lighter is opened, the Eiffel Tower illuminates in red, white and blue. Then the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, plays at a considerable volume.

I am giving serious consideration to taking up cigarettes again.

***

Computer Doug and his wife, Marion left for Toronto on Friday. They were going to see U2 in concert. Computer Doug arranged for some relatives to look after his children for the weekend. The relatives are staying at Computer Doug's home.

Earlier today, one of the relatives came to our door. Mrs. Wonders says he wanted to know if we had any aspirin. Apparently, it was not for the children.

***

Oscar's Premonition

Prior to his departure for France, Oscar approaches me with a grave look upon his face. He tells me that he has matter of great importance to discuss.

We repair to my back deck with drink appropriate for the occasion.

***

Raising the glass to his lips with a trembling hand, he tells me about a dream he experienced during his afternoon nap.

In the dream, Oscar was on a tour of a vineyard. During the tour, he was fatally shot by a French man.

***

Now, I have been told that I am one of the world's great skeptics, a description I remain somewhat skeptical about. I see little substance in premonitions and other hocus pocus. But Oscar is wearing his serious face, the one he uses only sparingly.

I successfully swallow the guffaw that is rising in my throat. Unfortunately, I am unable to stifle a smirk. Oscar can detect a smirk from kilometres away.

***

He glares at me over his glass.

"You don't understand, Oscar says sternly. "My family is well-known throughout Cape Breton for its premonitions".

"My great aunt, alone, foresaw the deaths of each of her siblings. My uncle predicted the loss of my grandfather in 1997. And my second cousin even foretold the death of Charlton Heston.

***

I consider that Oscar's family tends to live until old age. His grandfather, I think, was ninety-one when he died. I also have a vague notion that Charlton Heston is still alive.

But Oscar is clearly distressed. So, I simply nod reverently.

***

"I just want you to promise that you'll be a mentor to my son, after I'm gone", he says in a hushed tone.

"You know....make sure he has exposure to great books, art and music....and political discourse....that kind of thing."

***

Oscar's son, Dorian, a waggish twelve-year-old, is a charming young lad. His primary interests right now include sports, sports and sports. And something called 'Sony Play Station'.

***

I tell Oscar that I will be honoured to take on such a role. I will do my best, I say, to positively influence the boy.

***

After Oscar departs, I have occasion to learn that at least one other Sack resident is aware of the premonition. This person was also asked to carry out a task after Oscar's impending death.

Little Doug, proficient in the installation of ceramic tile and other such materials, was asked to complete the tiling of a hallway in Oscar's basement.

***

This is a project that Oscar began in 2002. Interrupted by a telephone call after laying three tiles, he has yet to return to the task. Oscar claims that he keeps getting diverted.

***

Oscar returns home tomorrow. He was slated to return today, but Tropical Storm Ophelia has him diverted to Montreal for the night.

Obviously, he was not shot by a French man, although he did visit a vineyard. But that was on his itinerary, anyway.

***

On the phone from Montreal, he told me he was befriended by a local French man while in Marseilles. Oscar says they spent the evening drinking shots of some "obscure liqueur."

He made no mention of his premonition.

***

After the night in Marseilles, Oscar said he had one of the worst hangovers he had ever experienced.

"I thought I was going to die", he said.

***

Oscar also told me that Little Doug will be finishing the basement hallway for him next Saturday. On the telephone, I can only nod in silent reverence.

***

Thar She Blows Again

Tropical Storm Ophelia has its sights set on our town for later tonight.

While there can be no comparison to the devastation and destruction wrought by Hurricane Katrina, The Sack has been no stranger to Nature's fury over the last few years.

***

In 2003, Hurricane Juan blew ashore and gave the old town a proper spanking. Things that belong in the ocean ended up on land. And things that prefer to be on land were deposited in the sea. Lots of old majestic trees were knocked over, as if some hulking giant had taken a careless stroll.

***

The Sack was very fortunate, for it sits higher above sea level than most areas around town. Siding, shingles and deck railings suffered the most.

The hurricane struck with full force at about 1 a.m. Power was lost almost immediately. Flashlight beams were visible in many homes in The Sack, as residents struggled to see what the weather had in store for us.

For over an hour, it was a terrifying experience. One could see window frames and patio doors actually bowing as the force of the wind increased. In the blackness of the night, the clatter of debris blowing about the street left everyone pondering the extent of the damage.

***

The storm gradually disappeared and a miraculous calm settled in. Tentatively, Sack residents began to emerge from their homes. As they entered the street, many had slightly dazed looks on their faces.

It did not take long for a carnival atmosphere to develop. Wags and wits abound in The Sack, especially when grown-ups get to cavort in the street at 2:30 a.m. on a Monday. Part of this can be attributed to the sense of relief that no one was hurt. The other part was probably related to the realization that no one would have to go to work that day.

***

In the darkness of the street, it was very difficult to see what kind of damage had been caused to property. As people became used to the dimness, small groups, flashlights in hand, began to inspect the houses. As we did so, we noticed the contrasting calmness in comparison to the brutal power of the storm. It did not occur to anyone that we were simply in the eye of Hurricane Juan.

***

This changed very quickly. The wind began to blow again, softly at first, then stronger. Then a sudden gust arose. A twisted piece of siding suddenly became airborne and narrowly missed Computer Doug. Big Doug thought this was very funny, until a small tree branch hit him in the groin.

It was time to go back inside our houses.

***

By morning, the storm was gone. So was Oscar's chimney. For several days, he walked around telling people he'd lost his "chimbley." When he tired of this phrase, he started to use the word "liberry" a lot, as in, "I need to take some books back to the liberry".

Oscar occasionally goes through phases where he will mispronounce words on purpose. I prefer this phase to the 'fireworks phase' he went through earlier this summer. More about that another time.

***

Amazingly, power was restored to The Sack by 10 a.m. Much of the town was without power for almost five days. In some places, it took two weeks.

Residents of The Sack felt guilty about this. But the feeling passed quickly.

Many people did, however, take in friends and extended family until their power was restored.

***

There are still several people in The Sack who haven't repaired the damage to their homes from Hurricane Juan. One resident in particular has completed all kinds of projects and improvements to his home, but strangely, has not replaced the roof flashing that blew away during the storm.

Oscar did get a new "chimbley." He went to the "liberry" to learn how to make sure it would stay more securely on his roof.

Little Doug lost the railings on his deck. Oscar suggested that he leave the deck without railings and convert it to a helipad. Little Doug gave this consideration, but didn't think he'd be able to afford a helicopter in the near future.

Oscar admitted that his helipad idea was borne of self-interest. He claims to know someone who owns a helicopter.

Big Doug did not get a new groin. Apparently, his existing one has been repaired.

***

Sack Full of Numbers

In cul de sacs around the world, one would find uniqueness at every stop. No cul de sac, it might be said, is like the other.

So, for your entertainment and for the statistically-inclined, here are The Sack's vital details.

25

The number of houses in The Sack. Two-thirds were built by drug-addled general contractors, under the direction of a miserly developer. The rest of the houses were built by sane people.

16

The number of homes still owned by the original buyer. This includes the place where Rental Doug now lives. It also includes the blackened shell of Burning Manor.

I like to be accurate about these things.

8

The number of dogs who live in The Sack. This does not include the big, barking and bored dog and his compatriot, Doggy Baun. They are the former canine residents of Burning Manor.

8

The number of homes that do not house children. According to Oscar, these are the homes that have the highest property value.

7

The number of cars in The Sack manufactured by Honda. I drive a Honda. So do half of the Dougs. And Oscar.

Coincidence? Well, yes.

5

The number of nurses who live The Sack. Interestingly, I've noticed that most of them do not care for themselves as well as they look after others.

Coincidence? Probably not.

5

The number of cats in The Sack. This does not include the Wonders' kitty, Spencer T. MacGillicuddy. Old Spence died two years ago at the ripe age of twenty-one.

The existing cats take very good care of themselves, indeed.

They also take care of birds, squirrels and other rodents. The remains of these critters can be found in a killing field behind Little Doug's place.

Three of the cats live with Little Doug. The Wonders' backyard has a number of bird feeders and is a favoured place for squirrels.

Another coincidence? Definitely not.

4

The number of single, divorced people living in The Sack. So far, they have not dated each other.

For blog purposes, one hopes this will change.

4

The number of Dougs. This includes Big, Little, Computer and Rental. Little Doug replaced Doug That Moved. Rental Doug is still a tentative name and could change. We'll let you know.

4

The number of homes with two or more cars. This is quite impressive, really. One would think it would be a higher number. But, then again, Sack people tend to spend most of their time, well....in The Sack. We really don't have anywhere else to go.

3

The number of people born outside of this country. There are considerably more born on other planets. This includes me, but I don't wish to discuss it right now.

3

The number of teachers who live in The Sack. Curiously, none seem to like children very much.

1

The number of people who have died while a resident of The Sack.

1

The number of widowed people in The Sack. See above.

1

The number of homes with perfect grass. Take a bow, Big Doug.

0

The number of ideas I have left for this post.

***