New Car Smell

The old town's waste management professionals neglected to pick up a bag of newspapers from the Wonders' curb.

Oddly, the bag was moved to a spot about fifteen feet away. It's now sitting in front of Florence's house.

Oscar says if someones garbage ends up on your property without your knowledge, then it automatically becomes your responsibility. He says this is the "first rule of garbage."

I didn't pick up the newspapers and take them back to my house. I left them sitting in front of Florence's place. I feel bad about it, of course, but I can't help it.

I'm just a sucker for rules.

***

Early on Saturday evening, I walked down the front steps onto the driveway. I had to make a quick trip to the local shopping emporium.

As I was about to get in the car, I heard a familiar whistle. Oscar was standing on his driveway beside a shiny, silver car. He had a big grin on his face.

Oscar, it seems, has bought a new car.

***

After a brief inspection of his shiny new car, Oscar volunteered to drive me to the shopping emporium.

He said it would be a prime opportunity for me to get a strong sense of the vehicle's "new car" smell. It would only be a matter of days, he added, before it would be replaced by the smell of wet dog, take-out fast food, early adolescent farts and the occasional small cigar.

I told Oscar it would be impossible for me to turn down such an opportunity.

***

I opened the passenger side of Oscar's new car and sat down. The door closed with a rich, comforting thunk. The "new car" smell was immediately recognizable. I could also pick up the faint odour of marijuana.

"Have you spoken to Weed lately?" I asked Oscar.

"As a matter of fact," he replied, as he drove out of the Sack, "I just dropped him off at the coffee cathedral."

***

Weed has been spending a lot of time at the coffee cathedral lately. He says the Little Doug household is driving him crazy. Little Doug is spending almost all of his time on the couch watching television. Supposedly, this is because of his diabetes.

Meanwhile, Daisy is feeding both of them nothing but "rabbit food." Again this is because of Little Doug's diabetes and her fear that she and Weed might get it too.

Weed says Little Doug only likes to watch fishing shows on television. Apparently there is a lot more fishing shows on television than one might think.

The fishing shows, Little Doug's diabetes and Daisy's rabbit food are starting to lead to frayed nerves, according to Weed. Since him and Daisy are on a tight "baby budget," he says the coffee cathedral is about the only place he can afford to go.

***

At the shopping emporium, Oscar and I made our way to Canadian Tire.

Canadian Tire is a bit of an institution in Canada. You can find at least one in just about every city or town. For years, it's where people have gone to buy their hardware, automotive supplies, sporting goods and outdoor equipment. Of course, it has a lot more competition now, but it's still a popular place.

Unfortunately, The Canadian Tire store closest to the Sack is probably the worst in the country. The employees seem to have only a passing interest in their work. The only time they seem energized is when they're trying to evade customers looking for help.

Oscar was pleased to be going to Canadian Tire. He said he was going to look in the automotive section for an air freshener similar to the "new car" smell. While he did that, I ventured over to the sporting goods area. I needed to get a replacement hardware kit for the visor on my hockey helmet.

***

After a brief search, I found the place where the hardware kits were supposed to be. Instead of hardware kits, I found only a few neck guards. As a regular customer of the store, I knew it would be wise to check the area where the neck guards are sold. Unfortunately, I only found more neck guards.

As I turned the corner of the first hockey equipment aisle, I almost collided with a Canadian Tire employee. He was trying to get away from a potential customer and wasn't watching where he was going.

The employee was just more than five feet tall and looked to be about fourteen years old. He had a mop of long, oily brown hair that fell halfway over his eyes. His face appeared damp and there was a sprinkling of acne on his chin. There was suddenly a strong scent of body odour around us and I was quite certain it wasn't emanating from me.

His pant legs ended midway between his knees and ankles. He was sockless and wore a pair of blue sneakers without any laces. The tongue of each shoe was curled outward like a banana. It was shocking to realize that he wasn't carrying a skateboard.

The name tag on his red Canadian Tire golf shirt identified him as Kelly. I asked him if the store had any replacement hardware kits for hockey helmets.

Kelly gave me a look of confused terror. Not only was he alarmed at being captured by a customer, but he clearly had no idea what I was talking about. To make it easier for him, I pointed at the area where the hardware kits were supposed to be. I even pulled a hockey helmet from another shelf and pointed at the screws and plastic clasps I needed.

The kid swallowed a few times and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to throw up.

He pointed at the product number on the sign indicating where the kits were supposed to be. He said he would go and check the store's computer to see if there were any more kits in stock. Then he stood directly in front of the sign with his face only inches away from it. He stood there for a moment repeating the product number aloud to himself. Finally, he scurried off to check the computer.

***

After almost five minutes, Kelly returned.

According to the computerized inventory, there were two hardware kits in stock. He stood and stared at the place where the kits were supposed to be.

After a few seconds, he said glumly, "They're not here."

***

"Do you have them on hand in the stockroom?" I asked.

Now he wore a pained expression on his face. He knew I was aware of the existence of the stockroom. I've been down this road many times before in this particular store.

He said he would make a search of the stockroom. About five minutes later, he returned and informed me that his supervisor was searching for the hardware kit and would join me momentarily. Then Kelly backed away from me very slowly. After turning his back and walking down the aisle, he looked back a few times, as if to make sure I wasn't following him.

After another five minutes, Kelly's supervisor rounded the corner and walked toward me. He looked to be about fifteen years old. He was a bit taller than Kelly, but he had the same mop of stringy, greasy hair. And unlike Kelly, this dude had laces in his red sneakers.

According to his name tag, the supervisor's name was Brock.

***

"Were you looking for the hardware kit?" he asked sullenly.

"Yup." I replied.

"Here it is."

The small package he passed over to me was definitely a hardware kit. Instead of a hardware kit for the visor on my hockey helmet, however, it was a kit containing the hardware necessary for hanging pictures.

***

I pointed out the discrepancy immediately.

Brock looked down at the kit with his mouth drooping open. I pointed at the image of a picture frame on the package. Then I pointed at the words that said, "Picture-hanging Kit."

"That's not what I was looking for." I said calmly.

Once again, I picked up a hockey helmet and held it up in the air. This time I found a visor and held it up with the other hand. Then I did a pantomime, repeatedly placing the visor in front of the helmet.

Brock said he would go and take another look. He walked away with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. He left the picture-hanging kit in the space reserved for hockey helmet hardware.

***

Another five minutes passed before Brock returned. He was empty-handed.

He mumbled a brief apology and stumbled away. I started off to find Oscar in the automotive section. As I walked out of the sporting goods department, I suddenly heard the following announcement:

"Guy Wonders. . . to the automotive department. Guy Wonders. . . to the automotive department."

***

Of course, it was Oscar who initiated the paging.

Oscar used to work at this Canadian Tire store when he was in high school. The guy who manages the automotive department is a old friend of his.

I've known Oscar long enough now to figure this out before I even arrived in the automotive department.

***

Oscar found an air freshener that's supposed to be just like the "new car" smell.

When we got in the car, he took out the bottle and lightly sprayed the interior. It was a ghastly odour that resembled rotting fruit. We had to drive home with the windows down.

When I got home, I tried to come up with a homemade solution to my hockey helmet problem. Eventually, I found something in my workshop and made a temporary repair. I can go to a sporting goods store next week, but I needed the helmet for Sunday night.

I used some sturdy, but flexible wire to reattach the top portion of the visor to the helmet. I found it in the back of a drawer in my work bench.

It was part of picture-hanging kit I bought a few years ago.

***

On the Bright Side

The old town was supposed to get spanked by a nor'easter the other night. We were expecting up to forty centimetres of snow.

With Big Doug and Gordon on their annual humanitarian visit to a Cuban resort, Oscar was curious about the Sack's snow shovelling protocol in their absence. Typically, they lead the way, shovelling-wise, with their initiative, thoroughness and attention to detail. Who, Oscar wondered, would set the pace in their absence?

Most people, however, simply had their heart set on a snow day. These are like unexpected holidays when they happen. It's like a reward for putting up with winter.

Somehow, the storm took a quick turn and missed the old town completely. A lot of people were disappointed about it.

Missing a snow shovelling opportunity would not go over well with Big Doug at all. Oscar thinks he might have sold his soul to the devil to prevent any snowstorms while he's gone. At the very least, Oscar added, Big Doug might've rented his soul to Rental Doug.

Of course, I remain doubtful about this.

***

It looks like Ben is going to be away for a while.

Computer Doug was talking to Norma yesterday and learned that Ben is being deployed to the Golan Heights in Israel. Canada, I'm told, has a peacekeeping presence there.

Ben, of course, is a senior cook in the military. He's supposed to leave in June and will be there for six months.

Computer Doug says it's too bad that Ben will be gone for so long. On the bright side, however, he says we won't have to shovel Ben's driveway while he's away.

***

Apparently, another truce has settled over the Bitterman household.

When we last heard from the marvelous Maxwell, he had fallen out of favour with Britney Bitterman's parents. Maxwell, of course, is the father of Britney's unborn child. He has been successfully unemployed for some time now. This is what caused the plunge in his popularity with Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman.

According to Oscar, Britney's parents have agreed to give Maxwell another chance. Mr. Bitterman has even gone a step further and found a job for Maxwell. Maxwell, Oscar says, is going to be working as roofer for a friend of Mr. Bitterman.

***

Oscar learned this information directly from Mr. Bitterman.

Mr. Bitterman and Oscar only have a driveway relationship. They usually just exchange brief pleasantries with each other. Talking about the weather, Oscar says, is about as deep as things tend to get.

This time, however, Mr. Bitterman suddenly launched into a rambling stream of consciousness about Maxwell, Britney, babies, jobs and retirement pensions.

***

If Maxwell sticks with the job, he'll probably move into the Bitterman home so he can help with the baby. That's what Mr. Bitterman said to Oscar. Apparently, he didn't look too happy about the arrangement, either.

On the bright side, however, the Sack's population might be rising again. Doo's step dad, Sticky, is supposed to move in by March. If Maxwell moves into the Bitterman household, the Sack will have a net gain of two residents.

Growth is good. It increases the shenanigan possibilities.

***

Earlier in the week, the Sack received a sprinkling of snow.

In the evening, Rental Doug was outside with his blended family kids helping them to build a snowman. As far as snowmen go, this one deserved an eight out of ten. At least, that's how Weed explained it to me.

Weed has been working on customer satisfaction surveys at his call centre gig. Apparently, customers are asked to rate various things on a scale of one to ten.

After speaking to "well over a billion" customers, Weed says he's started to incorporate the ratings into his day-to-day life. Beyond the obvious practice of rating movies, books and meals, Weed says the ratings have many other helpful applications.

Sleep quality, marijuana potency, boredom levels and even bowel movements are just some of the areas where Weed has been utilizing the scale of one to ten rating system. If you add up all of the ratings you've done in single day, Weed says you can determine an average rating for the day itself.

"So if someone asks how your day was," he explained, "you can just say, 6.78."

If Weed's new idea catches on, he says it will eliminate the need for people to say "fine," whenever someone asks about their day. People will be able to be a lot more specific.

***

On this particular day, Weed says he was sitting at 4.64 out of ten. It took him about ten minutes to do the calculation.

Working days, according to Weed, have yet to make it above five on the scale. This should be expected, he added, when one is working at a call centre.

Last Saturday, however, was something else entirely. Weed said the day averaged out at 8.17. He claims he had a fairly good idea that things were going well that day. But he didn't realize exactly how good the day was until he did the calculations on Sunday.

According to Weed, this is a good example of how we tend to overestimate our problems. If we really took the time to do the calculations, we would discover that things are better than we think they are.

"It's not just a matter of looking on the bright side, you know," Weed said philosophically. "You just gotta do the math, man."

***

No Bossin' Around

The Conservatives won the federal election yesterday.

Fortunately, they'll only have a minority government. They won't get away with too much right wing shenanigans without another election being forced upon them. Apparently, minority governments only last, on average, for about eighteen months. So Canadians will get another a crack at it soon enough.

In the Sack's area, the NDP candidate was easily elected. Once again, we are represented by the social democrats (formerly, the democratic socialists) in both the provincial and federal governments. In other words, we voted against the people who sit in government at both levels.

It doesn't look like the old town will be getting any bones thrown its way for the next few years.

***

There has been a lot of talk around here lately about T-shirts.

First, there was Big Doug and his "Hurry, Hard!" curling T-shirts. These garments left for Cuba on Saturday, accompanied by Big Doug. Cuban resort workers are probably relaxing in them right now. They'll be smelling good while they wear them, too. Gordon was bringing a supply of deodorant and mouthwash as part of his own humanitarian effort.

There was also talk about the Canadian Club Whisky T-shirts currently owned by one of the old town's waste management crews. In return for the shirts, they carted away Oscar's old fridge.

***

Finally, there was a recent mention of T-shirts and the Marxist-Leninist Party of Canada. Further investigation indicates that neither the Marxists nor the Leninists have any marketing savvy at all.

According to the communist on the phone, "We are not now, nor have we ever been, sellers of T-shirts with the logo of the Marxist-Leninist Party of Canada."

At least, I think that's what he said.

***

And now we have a shameful affair involving the Sack and some custom-made T-shirts. It happened several years ago but we can only speak of it now.

The inspiration for the T-shirts, I am embarrassed to say, was a boisterous four-year-old boy with speech problems. Of course, we are referring to the Sack's very own enfant terrible, young Doo.

***

It was the summertime and Doo was making an auspicious debut into the hearts and minds of Sack residents. For the very first time, Doo's mom was letting the lad explore the depths of the Sack without supervision.

In other words, she sent him outside to play on his own for the very first time.

***

It didn't take long for Doo to make his mark on the Sack's collective imagination.

Doo seemed to consider the entire neighbourhood as a larger extension of his house. For the first two months of the summer, Doo could be found rummaging through your garage, sitting on your porch or mucking about with the exterior finish of your car.

The other Sack kids weren't too sure what to make of Doo. On average, they were older. So it took some time for them to warm up to him. As a result, Doo spent a lot of time on his own.

As Doo was making his presence known throughout the Sack, he ended up on the receiving end of a few gentle lectures. Even Sack kids had to set him straight a few times.

Doo's response to admonishment was, to say the least, a bit defensive.

If he didn't like what he was hearing, he would loudly exclaim, "Yore notta botta mee!" In Doospeak, this is translated as, "You're not the boss of me!"

***

"Yore notta botta mee" became a catch phrase that spread like a wildfire. Before long, Sack residents of all ages were saying "Yore notta botta mee!" whenever there was a hint of being asked for something.

Dorian, Oscar's waggish son, would say it with great vigour whenever Oscar told him to do something. Of course, this is also what Oscar was saying to his wife, B.W. whenever she got in the way of his summer shenanigans.

Little Doug even said it to his work supervisor one day. There was great hilarity in the Sack when he told us about this. Oscar gently reminded him that the guy was, in fact, the "botta mee" in this particular case.

***

September is when Oscarama is generally held. It's an annual festival held in celebration of Oscar's birthday. Several years ago, Oscar decided it should be a three-day affair.

This particular year happened to be a milestone birthday for Oscar. It was necessary to hold a formal pub crawl through the maze of bars and taverns in the old town's downtown quarter. There were about ten people involved in the pub crawl. Three of the Dougs, along with Gordon and myself, joined the festivities.

Pub crawls are something of a tradition in the old town. It's customary during the pub crawl to wear a souvenir T-shirt that marks the event. Typically, the T-shirts show the name or purpose of the group and list the names of the bars on the pub crawl agenda.

***

The T-shirts for Oscar's pub crawl were white. On the back were the names and logos of the ten establishments selected to receive our company. On the front of the T-shirts, in bold, black type was the following:

"YORE NOTTA BOTTA MEE!!!"

Oscar had the T-shirts made. Everyone had great fun when they saw them. During the pub crawl, it caught people's attention, too. Some people would interpret the phrase right away. Others would read it slowly a few times and then cackle in recognition.

***

The T-shirts have never been worn by anyone since the pub crawl, at least not outside in the Sack.

Oscar was going to wear his once, but B.W. said she didn't think it was a good idea. If Doo's mom saw it and figured out where the phrase came from, she might not be too happy about it. This is, of course, makes a great deal of sense.

Nevertheless, people had a lot of fun with the phrase for a while. Every now and then, Little Doug will still say it.

He doesn't say it to his boss anymore though.

***

While having fun at the expense of a speech-impaired four-year-old may not have been the most appropriate thing, the phrase has had one lasting benefit.

Since Doo still uses the phrase with some regularity, Sack residents are able to gauge improvements in diction and pronunciation. The phrase, one might say, is now a measuring stick for Doo's verbal development.

Unfortunately, young Doo has made only moderate improvement in this area over the past few years.

***

So the T-shirt motif has now been fully explored. The election is over, too, so there's no need for more political chatter here.

It's time to get back to the business of living. The government can get back to running the country. And if we don't like the way they're doing it, we'll simply vote them out again. After all, it's the best way to say "Yore notta botta mee!" to politicians.

***

Sugar Daddies

Sack news has been accumulating again. If we don't start catching up on it, we're going to fall behind.

And nobody wants to fall behind.

***

Little Doug has diabetes.

He just found about it this week. He says he's going to have to "pull up his socks" in the areas of eating and exercise. More important, he has to give up drinking Pepsi.

Little Doug loves Pepsi. He says he drinks it pretty much all the time. Until now, he says it was working quite nicely for him.

"But those days," he said sadly, "are over. "

***

Little Doug says he has to go to diabetes classes next month. He'll learn more about proper nutrition and how to live with diabetes in a healthy way.

This will be the first time in many years, according to Little Doug, that he has taken a class of any kind. He's planning on doing some reading about diabetes so he doesn't "look like a moron" when he takes the classes. Apparently, Daisy is going to find some information on the Internet for him.

***

Little Doug is on a bit of a losing streak, as far as health matters are concerned. Not so long ago, he cracked some ribs and then, in a separate accident, broke his wrist. Although he remains in good spirits, he told us that a black cloud seems to be flying around him lately.

He said he's thinking of hiding in his bedroom until the black cloud flies away.

***

Oscar and I were chatting at the curb outside Little Doug's house. Our respective garbage cans had been blown across the street during the night. The old town has experienced very windy weather lately.

Suddenly, we heard a window open and then the sound of Little Doug's voice. The window was open just enough for Little Doug to poke his head out. He was in a second floor bedroom window.

This is when Little Doug told us about his diabetes. He also wanted us to locate his garbage can for him. He thought it might be somewhere on Gordon's property.

Little Doug said he would do it himself, but he couldn't go out because of the diabetes. Apparently, he's supposed to take it easy for a while.

Oscar thinks Little Doug might actually mean it, when he says he's thinking about hiding in his room.

***

If you were walking around the Sack on Thursday and suddenly felt the ground shaking, you can be assured that it wasn't an earthquake.

The vibrations were caused by Elizabeth when she discovered the state of her front lawn.

The reconstruction of Burning Manor is continuing. The exterior work has been completed and they've just begun to work on the interior. On Thursday, two large trucks arrived to deliver a load of drywall. Both were equipped with cranes. The sheets of drywall were picked up and then passed through the second story window.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, the trucks were a bit sloppy when they backed into Dirk and Dora's driveway. Elizabeth's lawn borders this area. She now has a muddy ditch running up that part of her front lawn.

To say she was miffed would be a great understatement.

***

The construction company said they weren't responsible for the damage to her lawn. They said the company that delivered the drywall was accountable for it.

Elizabeth says she'll be calling the drywall vendor, but also told the construction company that they'll be hearing from her lawyer.

The whole Burning Manor thing just isn't going away for Elizabeth.

***

Elizabeth was already upset earlier in the week.

Hurricane-force winds blew through the old town on Tuesday night. In the Sack, a few items were blown around. Elizabeth, unfortunately, lost a small piece of siding from the side of her house.

Various people saw the piece of siding as it first started to blow around the Sack. But the next day, it was nowhere to be found. Now Elizabeth needs to find a new piece and then reattach it to her house.

Burning Manor recently received its new siding. The house is now the same colour as Elizabeth's. Naturally, Elizabeth is threatening to tear a three-foot piece of replacement siding from the walls of Burning Manor.

It's not going to take long for things to turn ugly when Dirk and Dora move back to the Sack.

***

It looks like the recent equilibrium in the Bitterman household is starting to deteriorate.

Oscar tells me there was a daytime blow out between Britney and Mrs. Bitterman this week. Britney went storming out the house with Mrs. Bitterman hot on her heels. Apparently, Mrs. Bitterman was ranting from the porch, even though Britney was still thundering her way down the street.

Maxwell, candlepin bowling prodigy and father of Britney's unborn child, has not been seen around the Sack for the last three days.

Weed told Oscar that Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman have now taken a strong anti-Maxwell position. This has created friction for Britney as there had been talk of Maxwell moving in with them to help support the baby.

Weed learned about this directly from Maxwell. Even though Maxwell has not been welcome at the Bitterman home, this hasn't stopped him from hanging out in the Sack's vicinity. Weed has talked to Maxwell each day this week at the local coffee cathedral. Apparently, the coffee cathedral is the new head office for Cutlass Supreme Painting, Maxwell's fledgling business.

According to Weed, the Bittermans are upset by Maxwell's apparent idleness in gaining re-entry into the work force. Maxwell, of course, is indignant about the whole matter. It's not his fault, he explained to Weed, that he hasn't been able to acquire the Cutlass Supreme he requires to get his business going.

It's unfortunate, Maxwell says, but his hands are tied.

***

Weed also said that Maxwell makes Oscar seem like a rank amateur when it comes to the consumption of the coffee cathedral's maple sugar donuts. If he doesn't watch himself, Weed says, Maxwell's going to end up with diabetes just like Little Doug.

Weed says he's quickly becoming an expert on diabetes. He spent the whole week observing Little Doug resting in a prone position, while Daisy has launched into an extensive Internet search for information on the subject.

Daisy has started talking about changing their own diets, so they don't get diabetes themselves one day. Weed says he's certainly in favour of this, but wants her to slow down the implementation plan. He said he's made too many life changes lately to make room for another one.

By life changes, Weed is referring to his decision to accept a job at a local call centre.

***

Finally, young Tremayne made his first sales call of the year this week.

The young Grade One student is the Sack's preeminent charity chocolate bar entrepreneur. He sells the bars on behalf of his older brother, Jimbo. This time, Jimbo's class is planning a trip to Quebec City in March. Tremayne thrust an information sheet at me when I asked about this.

Tremayne doesn't care very much about the purpose behind the chocolate bars. For him, it's all about the sale. And, of course, it's about the chocolate, too.

***

Since he last appeared at the Wonders' door, Tremayne seems to have honed his salesmanship skills. When I opened the door, he asked if I would like to buy two chocolate bars, rather than the standard offer of one.

When asked why one would want to buy two chocolate bars, he simply explained that chocolate bars are good. It's hard to disagree with that.

Oscar tells me that Little Doug is one of Tremayne's best customers on the chocolate bar circuit. He thinks Tremayne's business will be hit hard by Little Doug's diabetes diagnosis.

After Cutlass Supreme Painting, Tremayne's chocolate bar trade is the second Sack-related business to have its difficulties this week.

And, of course, that's not even considering the loss of sales facing Pepsi in the very near future.

***

Eat the Rich

"Good evening, sir. How are you this evening?"

"I'm doing very well, thanks. And you?"

"Excellent. My name is Terrance and I'm a candidate for Member of Parliament in this area . . . "

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, I'm running on behalf of the Marxist-Leninist Party of Canada and I was wondering if I could take a few minutes of your time and tell you about our position on some the important issues facing our country."

"Oh, the Marxist-Leninists, eh?"

"Yes."

"That's very interesting . . ."

"Well, thank-you."

***

It's always interesting to hear about some of the more obscure parties that field candidates in our national elections.

While the media pays only scant attention to these parties during the campaign, it's far more than you hear about them between elections. Then, they're virtually ignored.

***

I had read in The Daily Snooze that the Marxist-Leninist Party was upset because my new friend, Terrance wasn't allowed to participate in a recent candidate's debate held in the old town.

The Party certainly had a valid complaint. Every other party was invited to the debate, even the Christian Heritage Party. Why not the MLPC?

Oscar, of course, had to point out that the Marijuana Party didn't show up for the debate. He said they probably forgot about it. Or it could've been because the debate was held too early in the day and the candidate was still in bed.

Weed says this is the trouble with the image of the Marijuana Party. People make the same tired jokes about them being too stoned to campaign properly. Nobody takes the time to learn about the Marijuana Party's important ideas about healthcare, the national childcare plan and constitutional reform.

When asked to elaborate on these ideas, Weed said he couldn't really think of anything off the top of his head, but he assured me the ideas were very good indeed.

***

It was good to see that the Marxist-Leninist Party was running a candidate in the Sack's riding. They don't run candidates in every riding, although there are still a surprisingly high number of candidates nationally.

Of course, I don't think any of their candidates have ever been elected.

As an adolescent, I remember how the Marxist-Leninist candidate in my area would magically reappear at election time. It was always the same guy; a rather severe looking man who always wore a pair of black-framed glasses, a white shirt and a skinny black tie. His jet black hair looked like it was cut during a bar fight.

His election signs were one of the most interesting aspects of his campaign. The same signs were hauled out each time he ran for office. I think he used to keep them in his garage.

The smaller parties tend to have minimal budgets, so it's rare to see their candidates with decent pamphlets, let alone election signs.

But Comrade Leon, as we used to call him, had broken the bank to come up with some simple black and white election signs. The most prominent aspect of its design was the blurry black-and-white image of the man himself.

***

The communists have never been that popular here. To many people, a Marxist-Leninist was something of an extremist or, for lack of a better phrase, a bit of a nutbar.

This has never been a fair perception, of course. There are intelligent people involved with the small parties, too. They're also very passionate about what they believe. And it's a good thing to be passionate about something.

Of course, this didn't stop us from having fun with Marxist-Leninist election signs.

***

The Marxist-Leninist signs were easily purloined under the cover of darkness. One still needed to be careful, of course, because the signs were almost exclusively posted on the lawns of Comrade Leon's relatives.

Apparently, his family was very big on Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin.

The next morning, the election signs would be found on the lawns of people who would be most likely to be horrified by an apparent association with the Marxist-Leninist Party.

Being a teenager wasn't always much fun. But turning a redneck into a red was always worth the amusement.

Of course, I'd never do anything like that now.

***

But Oscar would.

While I was talking to Terrance, the telephone rang. We were deep in conversation about how Terrance and his party would handle the whole democracy thing, if they were in power. I let the telephone call go to the voice mail.

Terrance was assuring me that the party would have "no immediate plan" to eliminate democracy. When I asked about the existence of an "intermediate plan," he started to get a little bit vague.

***

Apparently, Terrance had already been to Oscar's house.

Oscar even supplied Terrance with a cup of tea and some Rice Krispie squares. Dorian, Oscar's boy, made the Rice Krispie squares at school. Oscar said Terrance seemed to be ravenous and ate three of them. This was surprising, he said, since Dorian received a C-minus on the squares from his family studies teacher.

After a rousing discussion about state ownership of the means of production, Oscar apparently told Terrance that his vote could be counted upon when the election is held this Monday. Terrance, I'm told, was elated.

Oscar also told Terrance that he would be honoured to have a Marxist-Leninist Party election sign on his front lawn. Terrance said he would do his best to get one for him. He told Oscar he wasn't sure if there were any signs available, but he was going to look into it.

***

Oscar thought it would be very amusing if I also became a new supporter of the Marxist-Leninists and, like him, obtained an election sign from Terrance.

Since Gordon and Big Doug are going on their annual trip to Cuba this Saturday, Oscar thought it would be a fun to turn them into communists while they were away. We could put a Marxist-Leninist sign on their respective lawns as soon as they left. This would turn them into communists for ten entire days.

Even better, Oscar said, we could sit on my porch when they got home and watch them discover the signs.

***

Oscar was disappointed to learn that Terrance was no longer at the Wonders' door. He says we'll have to make do with only one Marxist-Leninist sign, providing, of course, Terrance "comes through for us."

We've agreed that Gordon deserves the honour of the Marxist-Leninist sign. He will be the least amused by it and will fret most about who has seen the sign in his absence.

Oscar says we'll be sure to take lots of pictures of the sign in front of Gordon's house. Next year, Gordon can show some of them to his friends, the Cuban resort workers.

They're sure to be impressed.

***

One-Armed Bandit

The Sack continues to enjoy very mild weather.

It can't possibly last much longer, of course. That would be too good to be true.

In the meantime, people seem to be taking advantage of it. Sack people seem to be going out more often than during previous winters. As a result, they're running into each other on the street more than they normally would for this time of year.

Sack people tend to hibernate a bit during the winter and don't see each other as much. Of course, this can be a good thing, too. There are some people in the Sack who need a break from each other from time to time. Gordon, for example, needs a break from worrying about other people's landscaping efforts. Six months of fretting isn't good for anyone. And, of course, people need a little less Gordon after six months under his watchful eye.

On the positive side, the milder weather lets us keep in touch and, in some cases, learn a bit more about each other.

***

Maxwell, Oscar tells me, is developing a great affection for the Sack as his union with Miss Britney Bitterman continues to grow.

Oscar has run into Maxwell almost every day over the last two weeks. Most of the time, they've run into each other in the Sack. On a few occasions, he has even encountered Maxwell at the local coffee cathedral. Oscar says Maxwell seems to have staked out his own table. Already, he appears to be on a first name basis with the coffee matrons.

The coffee cathedral is where Oscar spent an hour "shooting the breeze" with Maxwell the other day.

Oscar was out on another one of his "exercise walks." These efforts are part of "Man Boobs Be Gone," an exercise in male breast reduction. So far, this seems to involve a brief stroll to the coffee cathedral for some java and occasionally, a maple sugar donut or two.

***

Maxwell reports that his fledgling business, Cutlass Supreme Painting has been having some growing pains. In particular, the business has been hampered by his failure to acquire its namesake, a 1993 Cutlass Supreme.

An expected settlement from a local Walmart store has yet to materialize. This is where the start-up capital for Cutlass Supreme Painting was to originate.

Maxwell slipped in a puddle of water at Walmart and cracked his noggin on the floor. While he admits he has never actually held a regular full-time job, Maxwell wants Walmart to reimburse him for lost income and, of course, pain and suffering.

The absence of a company vehicle has also prevented Maxwell from acquiring the fourteen-foot ladder he needs to carry out his work. This is part of the domino effect caused by the failure of Walmart to make a settlement with him.

Without the ladder, Maxwell hasn't been able to begin the one and only painting gig he has obtained so far. The customer in question is Mr. Bitterman, Britney's dad and Maxwell's prospective father-in-law.

Oscar thinks it's very strange that Maxwell would require a fourteen-foot ladder to work on Mr. Bitterman's place. There are no ceilings taller than ten feet and Oscar is aware that Mr. Bitterman owns an eight-foot ladder.

Maxwell would only say that the painting business is very complicated and full of hassles. Then he quickly changed the subject.

***

Oscar says Maxwell preferred to talk about his legendary prowess as a bowler. Not only is he very good at it, but Maxwell claims that he regularly beats the stuffing out of challengers from both near and far.

Oscar wondered if he had ever considered becoming a professional bowler. Maxwell said he could easily be a millionaire in the sport, but, unfortunately, there are no professional opportunities for a bowler of his kind.

Maxwell, it seems, is very adept at candlepin bowling, a variation of bowling that is played only in New England and some parts of the Maritime provinces. If not for the total rejection of the game in the rest of the world, there is no doubt that Maxwell would have achieved greatness in the sport.

He told Oscar he would be running a business called, Mercedes Benz Painting, if there was a professional candlepin bowling tour. Then he howled with laughter.

***

Genetics, it seems, has played a significant role in Maxwell's development in the sport. At least, that's how he described it to Oscar.

Maxwell comes from a long line of candlepin bowlers. He claims it would be great folly for anyone to think they could match a team against Maxwell and his family. He says people in his family start candlepin bowling before they can even walk.

The reason for the family affinity for bowling is linked to his grandfather. Apparently, his grandfather was given a job as a janitor at the local bowling alley after he returned from World War I, even though he returned with only one leg.

The owner of the place had great affection for Maxwell's grandfather and allowed the veteran's children to bowl for free. Maxwell's father apparently took over the job at some point, so Maxwell and his siblings received the same benefit.

***

In the course of the candlepin bowling story, Maxwell told Oscar more about his family.

Maxwell, apparently, has a fraternal twin brother. Despite sharing the same genetic makeup, the two are not on very good terms.

According to Maxwell, his twin brother tried to kill him when they were about twelve years old. He said his brother held him under water while they were swimming at a local lake. Only through the intervention of an older sister did Maxwell survive. He claims he has no idea why his brother tried to kill him.

Ever since, Maxwell says the two haven't been close. He says he prefers to give his brother a wide berth, in the event that his brother tries to kill him again. He only sees his brother now at Christmas and on their mother's birthday.

His twin brother is also the only family member who is not an active candlepin bowler. In addition to the murder attempt, Maxwell claims this is good evidence that there is something wrong with his twin brother's genetic makeup.

We should be thankful, Oscar said, that Maxwell isn't teaching science at the local junior high school.

***

Oscar has lived in this part of the old town for his entire life. He says he's familiar with Maxwell's twin brother, although he doesn't know him personally. Apparently, the brother is the antithesis of Maxwell; he's married and has several children, works in a bank and owns a modest home in the old town's west end.

***

Maxwell's father was a champion candlepin bowler, as were two of Maxwell's older brothers. Although his grandfather introduced the family to the game, he didn't play the game himself. Maxwell said this had nothing to do with only having one leg. He said his grandfather suffered from shell shock after World War I and didn't like the noise associated with candlepin bowling.

Disability, however, has not stopped other family members from becoming accomplished candlepin bowlers. In fact, the best candlepin bowler in the family, according to Maxwell, is his father's one-armed brother.

Maxwell claims that his Uncle Ted is the best one-armed candlepin bowler in Canada, if not the world. Apparently, he routinely defeats bowlers who have both appendages.

Oscar asked if there was an actual competition for one-armed candlepin bowlers. Maxwell was rather vague in his response to this question, but said his Uncle Ted once "cleaned the clock" of the best one-armed candlepin bowler in New Hampshire.

***

Oscar says that Maxwell has invited him to play candlepin bowling together sometime. If the right person is working at the local alley, Maxwell says they may even be able to play for free.

It seems that the bowling alley's new management holds little respect for Maxwell's bowling bloodlines. He said the new owner thinks he should pay for the privilege of bowling there.

This is something that doesn't sit well with Maxwell at all. It's not because he doesn't have much money, of course. It is, according to Maxwell, the principle of the matter. No one in their right mind, he claims, would charge Wayne Gretzky if he wanted to play hockey with you, so it behooves him to pay for the privilege of bowling.

Fortunately, a friend of Maxwell's works at the local bowling alley. Maxwell says the friend owes him money and allows him to play for free in lieu of the debt. They just have to make sure the owner isn't in the building whenever Maxwell wants to play.

***

Maxwell also told Oscar that he might be moving into the Bitterman home in the near future. He said him and Britney need to get ready for the baby's arrival in June. They need to save money for an apartment and baby-related things.

He also said he's only getting social assistance right now and it won't be enough to "pay for a baby."

Oscar thinks it will be very good for the Sack, if Maxwell does move in with the Bittermans. He says it's important to have diversity in the kind of shenanigans we have around the Sack.

Maxwell, Oscar says, will make a very nice addition, indeed.

***

Garbage Day

Friday is the day when the old town's waste management professionals pay a visit to the Sack.

Early in the morning, a crew arrives to either empty the compost bins or take away the regular garbage. These items are dealt with on alternate weeks. Later in the day, a different crew always arrives to pick up the recyclable goods.

There is great diversity in the Sack when it comes to the matter of garbage.

***

Ben and Norma seem hellbent on destroying the planet as quickly as possible.

On garbage day, they leave massive amounts of garbage at the curb. Quite often, they'll place additional garbage at the curbs of their more conservation-minded neighbours.

No one is quite sure why Ben and Norma have so much garbage. There are only two of them in one house, so it's a very perplexing matter.

Oscar thinks something nefarious might be afoot. He believes that Ben is importing "outside garbage" into the Sack. Since Ben is a military man, Oscar thinks he might be disposing of something on the military's behalf. Ben is a senior cook in the Canadian Forces, so I remain doubtful about this.

Nevertheless, Oscar accuses him of "garbage laundering."

***

Florence tells me that Norma enjoys shopping at Walmart.

In fact, she said that it's really more of a hobby for Norma than a consumer activity. Apparently, Norma goes to Walmart at least twice a week. Florence says she buys "all kinds of crap," whether she and Ben need it or not.

It could be that Ben and Norma are throwing out their old crap every week to make space for the new crap. This is far more credible than secret military garbage.

***

Big Doug, on the other hand, puts out an impossibly small amount of garbage each week. Neither does he seem to recycle nor compost anything. He has a compost bin in his garage, but we've never seen it at the curb.

Where does Big Doug's garbage go? Your guess is as good as mine.

It's unlikely that he simply doesn't generate much garbage. This is a man who's suspected of using plutonium as a lawn fertilizer.

Oscar says it's possible that Big Doug is really an alien who can consume his own garbage. I suppose anything is possible, but I remain doubtful about this, too.

***

Little Doug is a man of great independence as far as garbage is concerned.

While everyone else places their garbage out on Thursday night or Friday morning, Little Doug refuses to be held to convention. He seems to look at garbage collection day as a vague recommendation, rather than a rule.

Last Saturday, he left a bag of garbage at the curb. It was only twenty-four hours since the Sack's garbage was collected and almost two weeks before it would be collected again.

This is a very common behaviour on Little Doug's part. He puts his garbage out when it suits him. He knows it's going to be picked up eventually. He's just not that interested in when it'll happen.

***

Of course, this doesn't mean that Little Doug has no interest in garbage. In fact, it is quite the contrary.

Little Doug can be safely described as an avid and experienced dumpster diver. He likes to drive around the neighbouring streets looking at other people's garbage. If he sees an item that interests him, he'll bring it home.

Weed says Little Doug has brought home all manner of other people's garbage. Apparently, he tends to favour electronics and wooden furniture, but by no means does he restrict himself to these items. He likes to tinker with the electronic stuff and refurbish the wooden things. Weed says there are numerous inoperable VCRs in Little Doug's garage, along with a host of unmatched kitchen chairs.

Little Doug once brought home a set of encyclopedias. The big volumes were contained in a large cardboard box. Weed said they were published in the late 1970s and smelled like cat pee. Little Doug thought the books would be helpful to Weed and Daisy, since both were going to college at the time. Weed was enrolled in a computer program and Daisy was studying dental hygiene.

Weed said Little Doug put the box of books out on the curb the next day, which, again, would have been a Saturday. The Sack's cats spent the next week peeing on the books some more.

***

Last year, residents of the Sack held a street sale.

A first one had been held a few years before. Two years seems to be the right amount of time to consume enough crap to hold another one. Non-Sack residents buy Sack people's crap and eventually sell it again at their own yard sales.

This is how the crap goes around.

***

Despite being advised of the street sale, it was all a big surprise to Little Doug. About half way through the sale hours, he hauled out a large number of items onto his driveway.

Sack residents maintained their own selling areas, but occasionally floated about to talk and inspect each other's inventory of goods. When Oscar looked at Little Doug's stuff, he found a stereo he had discarded several years ago. He also found a broken exercise machine that his wife, G.W. had tossed away a few months earlier.

Ben ended up buying a small bookcase from Little Doug. He took it back to his own driveway where Norma had a chance to see it for the first time. She told Ben to take it back to Little Doug, as soon as she laid eyes on it.

Apparently, Ben had just purchased a bookcase they used to own a few years ago. Norma had thrown it out when they got a new wall unit for their livingroom. Little Doug gave Ben his money back, but apparently wasn't too pleased about it.

***

Oscar has thrown out a few large household items over the last year or so.

Sometimes, the waste management professionals won't accept certain items. Apparently, one must make separate arrangements for these items and, usually, pay a small fee for the privilege of removal.

Last summer, Oscar left a refrigerator on his curb for collection. Refrigerators are one of the items that requires special arrangements. When the waste management professionals arrived, Oscar offered each of them a T-shirt, if they would dispose of the refrigerator.

The three-man crew left the truck and inspected the T-shirts. Oscar had received the shirts from his company for promotional purposes. A deal was eventually struck and the refrigerator was duly removed from Oscar's curb.

If you're ever driving around the old town and see a waste management crew wearing black "Canadian Club Whisky" T-shirts, you'll know you're not very far away from the Sack.

***

Off the News Wire

The new year is barely two weeks old and already, Sack news is starting to gather.

Given the mild, unseasonable weather, we won't need a shovel to dispense with it. A simple broom should do nicely.

***

Oscar and I hosted another winter edition of our show last week.

We host the show in my front room at various times during the winter. When the weather is better, it takes place on my front porch. In order for it to be considered an actual show, we need to have at least one guest.

Weed made it a show.

***

It's likely that Weed will be a regular guest for a while.

He and his pregnant girlfriend, Daisy, have established a new, rigid budget. They're hoping to buy a house and have a baby in one fell swoop.

Weed seems to be very committed to their goals. In a very unlikely move, he even took a job at a call centre. And despite all predictions, he's still working there.

The budget, however, is proving to be a bigger challenge for Weed. He said he's used to eating out on a regular occasion. In particular, he and Daisy are big fans of the late night takeout or delivery. The new budget has almost wiped out this activity entirely. Weed said he's just going to have to get used to the fact that he can't go out all the time.

During his appearance on the show, Weed made frequent visits to the Wonders' fridge and food cupboard. Oscar says Weed may have found a new way to cope with his tight budget.

He could be right about that.

***

During his visit to the show, Weed told a fantastic tale.

Oscar says the tale must be some kind of new urban legend. I have no idea about this.

Apparently, a female friend of his was conversing with a man on an online dating service. The woman, he said, is in her mid-thirties and was recently divorced.

The two corresponded online for several weeks and started to feel comfortable with each other. Although the man was older, the woman felt good enough about their contact that she agreed to meet up with him at the local coffee cathedral.

To ensure that she would be able to recognize him, the man said he would be sitting at a table and holding a yellow rose.

***

At the agreed upon time, the woman walked into the coffee cathedral. It was fairly crowded and, at first, she couldn't see anyone with a yellow rose. Finally, however, she caught sight of her online suitor.

Sitting at a corner table was an older gentleman. He was neatly dressed and was looking expectantly around the coffee cathedral. He was holding a long-stemmed yellow rose with both hands.

It was her own, recently-divorced father.

***

According to Weed, the woman and her father quickly got over the shock and embarrassment of the situation. They sat and talked for more than two hours. She said it was one the best conversations they'd had in years.

As mentioned, Oscar was a bit skeptical about the story. He said it would have been a better story if the guy had been her ex-husband. He could be right about that.

I have no idea whether it really happened or not. I just write it down.

***

The Canadian federal election is less than two weeks away.

The Sack's informal election sign poll is turning out to be a barnburner. The New Democratic Party (NDP) had been maintaining a substantial lead in the poll with their bold, orange election signs. Democratic socialism, it seemed, was finally on the horizon.

In recent days, however, the dreaded Conservative Party of Canada has staged a late, but formidable rally. After some rigorous statistical analysis, the current election sign poll results look like this:

New Democratic Party (2)

Conservative Party (1)

Don't Give a Monkey's Butt (22)

***

The Conservative Party sign appeared on Ben and Norma's lawn.

I was talking to Ben and Computer Doug the other day. It was a spontaneous meeting, as each of us arrived home at the exact same time. We walked down our driveways at the same time to retrieve our respective garbage bins. The moment cried out for a choreographer.

According to Ben, Norma used to babysit the Conservative candidate when he was a child. Apparently, this is the primary reason for voting for him.

***

Ben, of course, recently underwent a colonoscopy.

Like almost all medical treatment, a colonoscopy is covered by the public health care system. The Conservative Party is well known for its desire to decimate this basic human right. I don't know how much a colonoscopy costs these days, but I don't think Ben would prefer to pay for it out of his pocket.

Of course, everyone has the right to vote for whomever they please. If putting a tyke to bed and wiping his nose is what gets their votes, so be it. It's Ben's vote and Norma's vote, not mine.

It's also Ben's colon. If he wants to start putting money into his colon, I guess that's his choice, as well.

***

Mrs. Wonders tells me that she had a wonderful glimpse of Miss Britney Bitterman the other day.

Apparently, Britney is now starting to show some external evidence of her pregnancy. She was seen striding out of her house wearing a tight pink sweatsuit that offered a clear view of her maternal state. Mrs. Wonders said Britney had her hair in a ponytail and was wearing a large set of headphones.

She stood at the end of her driveway for a bit and then took a small stub of a cigarette from her purse. After lighting it, she inhaled deeply and then coughed a few times. Then she made a deep guttural sound and spat a glob of saliva onto the road.

Then a taxi showed up and whisked her away.

***

Oscar tells me that Jason Bitterman has returned from his recent road gig. Apparently, Jason was away peddling Christmas trees to the Christian masses. Oscar says the tree market tends to dip a bit after the twenty-fifth of December.

Mr. Bitterman told Oscar that Jason will be joining the military in March. At least, that's when he'll be leaving for basic training in Quebec.

This will be about the fifth time that Jason has been rumoured to be going away for basic training. It is said that he actually did go once, but was forced to withdraw for some reason.

Oscar said he'll be able to learn more about this from Maxwell, Britney's beau and the father of her impending child. It seems Maxwell is around the Sack almost all the time lately, especially during the day. Oscar says he won't be surprised if Maxwell ends up moving in with the Bitterman family, after Jason goes away.

He could be right about that.

***

Finally, Gordon and Big Doug are making preparations for their annual vacation in Cuba.

Big Doug, I'm told, has acquired a supply of surplus T-shirts. He intends to give the shirts to Cuban resort workers as a humanitarian gesture. The T-shirts advertise the "2003 Early Bird Funspiel" held at his curling club.

Curling is a sport that's inexplicably adored by a surprising number of Canadians. The curler slides a heavy chunk of granite across an ice surface. There's a lot of yelling and sweeping going on, as well.

It is actually a very enjoyable game to play. It's also a lot harder than it looks.

***

On the back of the T-shirts is the phrase, "Hurry, Hard!"

This is a phrase that's often exclaimed in a loud voice during a curling match. Curling fans would likely be the only people to understand this phrase.

One wonders what the Cubans will make of it.

***