Revolving Doors

The Sack celebrates another day without Dirk and Dora. . . . .

***

Maxwell, Britney Bitterman's beau and the father of her unborn child, is now persona non grata in the Sack.

At least that's how Mr. Bitterman describes it. Maxwell had moved into the Bitterman home in January so he and Britney could save some money before the baby was born. The baby is due in about two weeks.

But it doesn't look like things have worked out at all.

***

Maxwell was originally going to start his own business, Cutlass Supreme Painting. He had plans to set the old town's commercial painting industry on its ear.

Unfortunately, Maxwell had difficulty securing the cornerstone of his business plan, a 1993 Cutlass Supreme. Time passed and Mr. Bitterman soon realized that Maxwell was becoming comfortably unemployed under his own roof. That's when Maxwell received his marching orders for the first time.

Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and Maxwell quickly returned to the Bitterman home and back into the arms of his beloved Britney. This time, Mr. Bitterman pulled some strings and found work for Maxwell with a local roofing company.

***

The once promising roofing gig eventually turned sour. Maxwell still claims he was constructively dismissed, but other, more reliable voices say he fairly drifted away from the job for lack of interest.

Once again, the Maxwell-Bitterman union was on the ropes. And once again, Mr. Bitterman rallied at the last moment and provided Maxwell with an employment opportunity. This time, the work was with a painting company. According to Maxwell, he knows the painting business "like the back of my ass."

I don't know what that means, either.

***

Maxwell battled heroically to maintain employment with the painting company. In the end, he managed less than two weeks on the job.

Apparently, he was fired (rather unfairly, according to Maxwell) for absenteeism. He tried to keep this information (merely a lack of communication) from Britney and her father. Mr. Bitterman found out about the firing within twenty-four hours and after a quick, but ferocious blow out, Maxwell was banished from Britney's life and the Bitterman home for ever more.

***

Naturally, this is not how the story ended. In fact, the Maxwell-Britney affair is probably just beginning.

Despite her original desire to see Maxwell frozen in the cold bowels of hell, it was only a matter of weeks before she and Maxwell had established a clandestine relationship.

***

Weed provided this update on the trials and tribulations of Maxwell and the Bitterman family. He sees Maxwell on a regular basis at the food court of the local shopping mall. Weed works in a call centre that's housed in the office building connected to the mall. Maxwell, on the other hand, uses the food court as the head office for his business, Cutlass Supreme Painting.

The business, according to Weed, still hasn't begun operations. But you can bet it won't be long before it's off the ground.

It could be anytime, now.

***

Maxwell used to hold court at the local coffee cathedral. But Weed says he has been forced to make himself scarce from there. Apparently, he started a fling with a rather robust coffee matron. Things supposedly went awry when she learned about Britney's existence.

Maxwell managed to patch things over for a short period. But then their relationship came to a crashing halt when she found out that Maxwell had resumed his relationship with Britney. Weed is quite certain that Britney is unaware of Maxwell's dalliance with the woman from the local coffee cathedral.

***

So Maxwell and Britney continue to see each other, even though he's no longer welcome across the threshold of the Bitterman home. Weed says the couple spend most of their time together at the home of Maxwell's one-armed uncle.

Uncle Ted, for the uninformed, is a legendary candlepin bowler. Apparently, there isn't a one-armed candlepin bowler in existence who can top Uncle Ted.

On a few occasions, Weed has even seen Britney at the food court with Maxwell. This is surprising, according to Weed, since Maxwell is not known for mixing his personal life with his professional life.

***

Oscar is the best source for information on Mr. Bitterman's view of this whole affair.

Although Mr. Bitterman, Oscar reports, is not always consistent in his frankness about his family fortunes, he is sure to provide a timely quote from time to time.

On the subject of Maxwell, Mr. Bitterman would only say that Maxwell will never darken his door again. After the baby is born, Britney is hoping to apply for social assistance and find her own apartment. Mr. Bitterman says him and his wife plan to do everything they can for Britney and their grandchild, but swears he won't give her anything that Maxwell will find any benefit from.

Mr. Bitterman also told Oscar that he's having recurring dreams where he runs over Maxwell with his car. Oscar said there was a slight maniacal tone in Mr. Bitterman's laugh when he talked about the dreams.

***

One can only imagine that Mrs. Bitterman is dismayed by her daughter's circumstances.

While Oscar said Mr. Bitterman made no mention of his wife's demeanor, Sack observers have noted a continued deterioration in her appearance. Conservative estimates suggest she has gained more than one hundred pounds since Maxwell swept Britney off her feet.

There is also the matter of excessive perspiration. Mrs. Bitterman almost always appears as if she has just finished a gruelling marathon. Some Sack residents attributed this to the onset of menopause, but this view is declining in popularity.

The most disconcerting development, as far as Mrs. Bitterman's well being is concerned, is the matter of the garden gnome that now occupies a prominent position on their front lawn. Aside from Dirk and Dora's decorative tree stump, Sack lawns have remained free from such eyesores until now.

Mrs. Bitterman was observed placing the gnome on their lawn several weeks ago. It stands at the very corner of the front lawn closest to the street. The gnome resembles one of the Seven Dwarfs, although there is little agreement about which dwarf it represents. Weed is quite certain it's supposed to be Grumpy, while Oscar thinks it's Sleepy.

Little Doug said he's fairly sure the gnome is supposed to be Goofy. Even though there is no such dwarf with this moniker, I think he could be right anyway.

***

Grass Stains

June bugs have made their appearance in the Sack.

No one in the Sack is ever pleased to see a June bug. The insects are attracted to porch lights and they make a lot of clicking noises as they stumble about. They also make an audible crunching sound when they're stepped upon.

An errant June bug once landed on Little Doug's shoulder while we sat on his porch. Oscar, Weed and your agent were having a quiet evening drink, when Little Doug suddenly stood up and began doing a crazy dance. In the midst of his dance, he pulled his shirt over the top of his head. Apparently, he thought the June bug had gone down the back of his shirt.

Little Doug is a little bit on the portly side. He's also not a man accustomed to being shirtless in front of others. But Little Doug is not a big fan of June bugs, either. Within seconds, he was standing topless at the foot of his porch stairs. This is where he was when his daughter, Daisy pulled into their driveway.

Daisy looked at us and then at her father. Then she asked why her father was standing topless while the rest of us were sitting on the porch.

Oscar told her we had paid Little Doug ten dollars for the chance to see his nipples. Daisy said we had paid far too much for the privilege.

***

The front lawn of Burning Manor has seen better days.

There is no grass to speak of. Dandelions have taken root with confidence. There are several spots where there is nothing but dirt.

On Friday afternoon, a small truck appeared in Burning Manor's driveway. It was from the restoration company that has been deeply involved in the erection of the replacement house. Oscar tells me the outfit was hired by the insurance company handling Dirk and Dora's claim.

Apparently the restoration firm arrived to do some work on Burning Manor's lawn.

To the dismay of Sack residents, the company finished its work in only fifteen minutes. Needless to say, the restoration of the outdoor part of Burning Manor doesn't appear to be part of the insurance deal after all.

As Gordon stated later, it looks like we're going to have another "permanent eyesore" on our hands.

***

Various vehicles attended to the rebuilding of Burning Manor. They left some deep tire tracks on its front lawn. In total, this area was about four square feet in size. The workers from the restoration company shoveled some soil onto this area. Then some new sod was rolled into place.

This marked the end of the outdoor restoration of Burning Manor. It appears they have no intention of doing anything more to it.

So now Burning Manor has four square feet of new grass. The rest of the yard, as Oscar put it, looks like a recently-cleared mine field.

***

Elizabeth was particularly miffed about this development.

She was expecting Burning Manor to be completely landscaped and beautified. She also expected the restoration company would repair the tire tracks that ran along the side of her driveway. The trucks associated with the rebuilding of Burning Manor had caused this as well.

Oscar says it's unlikely that Elizabeth can get any more miffed about Dirk and Dora than she is now. She has, as Oscar described it, reached her "maximum level of miffness."

He could be right about that.

***

Ben and Norma are sometimes privy to inside information on the fortunes of Dirk and Dora. Apparently, Norma knows someone from Tuesday night bingo who's well acquainted with Dora.

Not surprisingly, the latest news suggests that Dirk and Dora are upset with their insurance company. Apparently, the company has been very stingy during the reconstruction of the house. They've also been reluctant to replace the contents of the old house.

According to Norma, most of the contents destroyed in the fire actually belonged to Dora. Since she doesn't own the house with Dirk or have any personal insurance of her own, the insurance company will only pay out a small amount to replace the contents.

Gordon is praying that Dirk will simply decide to sell the house.

***

The other bit of news about Dirk and Dora is somewhat disconcerting.

Apparently, the young relative of Dora's who was staying with them at the time of the fire is supposed to be moving back into the new house with them. Burning Manor was torched, according to conventional old town wisdom, because this young woman was mixed up in some nasty shenanigans.

One can only hope that a second fire is not in the cards.

***

If a second fire does take place, Elizabeth vows that it might have something to do with a white Pontiac Sunfire.

Just before midnight on Saturday, she saw this car arrive in front of Burning Manor. The only occupant of the car walked over to the house and began peering into both the front and rear windows.

After a few minutes, the man drove away.

***

Elizabeth wrote down the license plate of the car.

When she finally sees Dirk, she's going to ask him if he knows anyone who owns such a car. Then she says she's going to rip a strip or two off Dirk for an increasingly long list of sins.

Elizabeth is very good at ripping strips off people.

***

Dandelion Whine

Dirk and Dora were seen in the Sack this afternoon.

Florence stayed home from work today and said she saw them driving into the cul-de-sac. Then she got distracted by something and didn't pay them any further attention.

The next time she looked, Dirk and Dora were gone. Florence wasn't even sure if they went inside Burning Manor.

What can we learn from this? Only that Florence is a very bad source for Sack news.

***

It was just after ten o'clock on Saturday evening. It was very dark in the old town and a light fog was drifting in.

Gordon, as is his custom, stood at his front window, casting a critical eye around the Sack.

Suddenly, his attention was alerted by movement near the front of Elizabeth's house. He strained to get a better look, but couldn't identify the slow shadow as it began to move toward the side lawn.

Gordon could see the lights on at Elizabeth's house. Her car was parked in the driveway. It wouldn't be like Elizabeth to be loitering around her lawn at this hour.

After some thought and just to be on the safe side, he decided to telephone her. Unfortunately, the phone call went unanswered.

Turning back to the window, Gordon saw the form move slightly away from his field of vision. He glanced across the street from Elizabeth's house to see who might have a better view. That's when he decided to call the Wonders' house.

***

Mrs. Wonders and I were watching The Sopranos when Gordon called. The program is the only reason we have digital cable. When the season ends, we'll cancel the service again.

The only other loss will be the availability of my favourite, all-time television program, the incessantly corny Dragnet (1967-70).

***

Gordon asked if I would take a look from my window toward Elizabeth's house. He said he was concerned that an intruder might be pillaging her home as we spoke.

I took a good look across the street, but could see no movement around her home. Gordon sounded disappointed.

***

Mrs. Wonders and I were drawn back to the television. Tony Soprano was struggling with a decision to have someone whacked. Mrs. Wonders said we are lucky not to have to make such decisions.

***

Meanwhile, Gordon decided to walk over to Elizabeth's house to ensure that no shenanigans were at play.

When he looked down the side of Elizabeth's house, he clearly saw the shape of someone moving around very slowly. The figure also seemed to be aiming a flashlight at the ground.

Gordon said his adrenaline was really starting to pump at this point.

***

Anyone who knows Gordon would be unsurprised to learn that he carried his own flashlight when he went down to Elizabeth's house. When he saw the shadowy form, he turned his flashlight directly at it.

The shadow's flashlight pointed right back at him.

What followed was a brief duel, as Gordon and his unknown opponent tried to shine their respect lights in the other's face. As the battle waged, both began to edge closer to the other.

That's when Gordon realized he was looking at Elizabeth.

***

Elizabeth was wearing her gardening clothes.

This would've included a pair of dark, stiff blue jeans. Oscar says gardening is the only time where she doesn't regard the wearing of denim as a slightly vulgar practice.

In addition to a flashlight, Elizabeth was holding something very interesting. She was wielding a green spray bottle containing a chemical weed killer. Under the cover of darkness, Elizabeth was trying to get rid of the dandelions on her front and side yards.

***

The old town has very strict laws about the use of chemical products on residential lawns and gardens. Unless a lawn or garden has been affected by disease or an unnatural predator, chemicals cannot be used at all. Even in the extreme cases, approvals must be granted and signs must be posted.

Elizabeth was trying to beat the system.

***

The bylaw regarding chemicals was enacted a few years ago.

While some people use organic materials to keep a decent lawn, others have simply given up. Not surprisingly, lawns in the Sack have a lot more dandelions and other weeds than in the past.

Elizabeth, it seems, was getting fed up with her dandelions.

***

In fairness, Elizabeth is not the only Sack resident to flout the law. Both Gordon and Big Doug are well known for their use of chemical weed-killers and fertilizers. Neither makes any attempt to hide the practice.

While no one in the Sack has contacted the old town about Gordon and Big Doug's lawn capers, Elizabeth has made some sarcastic comments to both of them about their use of chemicals.

It turns out, as Gordon explained it, that we have "a case of the pot calling the kettle black."

***

Gordon said Elizabeth was more than a little taken aback when he discovered her killing weeds in the dark. She said she had tried everything to improve her lawn, but nothing was working.

To help her relax a bit, Gordon told her he wouldn't tell anyone about her chemical use. Apparently, she was relieved to hear this. At least, that's what Gordon told me.

He called me as soon as he returned to his house. I missed the last few minutes of The Sopranos while I talked to him. I forgot to ask Mrs. Wonders if anybody got whacked at the end.

I think I'm losing interest in The Sopranos.

***

Circle Jerks

Gordon was poking around in the Sack's centre circle on Sunday.

The circle is maintained voluntarily by a few Sack residents. A small garden sits in the middle of the circle, surrounded by a handful of immature trees and some large ornamental rocks. The rest of the circle is dotted with some increasingly sparse grass.

I could tell that Gordon was up to something. So I decided to join him.

***

"The winter," Gordon said seriously, as he looked around the circle, "has taken her toll."

If I didn't know him as a fellow cul-de-sac dweller, I would've picked him for a wise, experienced farmer. Since I do know him as a cul-de-sac dweller, I knew something was probably afoot regarding the Sack's centre circle.

Within minutes, Gordon was telling me about a new plan to resod it. When the work is completed, the area will be "out-of-bounds" for a month or two while the sod "takes."

***

According to Gordon, the Sack Resident's Society held its most recent meeting while Oscar and I, along with our respective spouses, vacationed in Cuba. Before we left, neither of us paid too much attention to the emails announcing the meeting.

One could only wonder about what other decisions were made at the meeting. I would throw myself violently to the pavement, if I found out that Gordon had finally established a "lawn committee."

But Gordon says there were only a few more "minor" issues decided upon at the meeting. He apologized for not sending out a copy of the minutes.

He said he's been too busy planning the "circle reno" to get the minutes together. In addition to being the chairperson of the Sack Resident's Society, Gordon also keeps notes during the meeting. No one else wanted to do it and Gordon's the only one who thinks it's necessary.

***

Of course, the winter weather has nothing to do with the state of the Sack's centre circle or the decision to spruce things up. It's all just a veiled attempt to keep Sack kids from congregating there.

Gordon has been increasingly vocal about this over the last few years. When I mentioned this to him, he let loose about the kids, even though he said the decision had little to do with them. He thinks the kids spend too much time there and, as a result, the circle's landscape has been "ruined."

When I asked him where he thought Sack kids should play instead, he said:

"Those kids have to understand the circle isn't a playground. Unless they want to admire the garden, they shouldn't have any business in this circle."

***

I was going to remind Gordon that the circle was the prime meeting place for Sack kids. If they didn't have such a place, it would severely limit the size of their world.

I also would've mentioned how the circle will be an important part of the kids' later recollections of their youthful years.

But I was still thinking about young Doo, Tremayne, Jimbo and some of the other Sack kids standing solemnly and respectfully in a semicircle, as they admired the circle's burgeoning garden.

***

While Gordon envisions the circle as a restricted botanical zone, the usual Sack suspects have their own ideas.

Weed thinks the circle should contain a large community hot tub.

He said Sack people would quickly become more relaxed and patient. He also said it would be good for their muscles and joints.

***

Computer Doug imagines that a water fountain would look good in the Sack's centre circle.

Apparently, his idea involves a fountain that shoots water high into the air at random intervals. Computer Doug said people would be on edge every time they were near the circle. He thinks it would create some"interesting dynamics" in the neighbourhood.

He also says it would be great fun to watch people getting soaked from time to time.

***

Oscar thinks a very small outdoor bar would be very useful.

There would be a canopy over the place with a small number of tables. There would also be a few seats at the bar.

Oscar says it would look like one of the bamboo structures from the old Gilligan's Island television show. He said it would be a great place for Sack people to gravitate toward. People, he said, would have no choice but to come together as residents and friends.

I asked Oscar if he envisioned the place as a twenty-four-hour-a-day operation or one with regular business hours.

"Now," he said to me curtly, "you're just being ridiculous."

***

I saw young Doo later in the day and asked him what he would put in the Sack's centre circle if he was allowed. It took a while to get him to understand what I meant.

Eventually, he told me that he would turn the circle into a "playground." Apparently, there would be a slide, a set of swings and, inexplicably, a roller coaster in Doo's dream circle.

After describing his vision, Doo sped off into the circle by himself. He was wearing a black hockey helmet and carried a flashlight in his hands. He clamoured on top of the circle's ornamental rocks and shone the flashlight in the air.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon.

***

Later in the day, Doo asked me if a playground was going to be built in the Sack's centre circle.

I told him I didn't think so. But I did say that, as far as I was concerned, he could play in the circle anytime he wanted to. As long as, of course, he doesn't break any more tree branches.

The Sack's trees seem to shudder almost audibly when Doo is around the circle. He has been responsible for quite a few of the Sack's broken tree branches.

***

I told Doo that the circle will probably be turned into a rocket launching pad.

He would still be able to play in the circle, but just not when rockets were getting launched. Doo looked at me with a fair bit of skepticism, before admitting that he liked the idea very much.

Apparently, young Doo thinks it would be great fun to blow up the moon. I told him he could be right about that.

***

The Lost Days of Dirk and Dora

The long weekend is almost over. There is still no sign of Dirk and Dora.

***

Computer Doug figures Dirk and Dora are probably renting a place where the lease doesn't expire until the end of the month.

Of course, this wouldn't explain why they wouldn't move back in as soon as the house was ready. Burning Manor has been ready for more than five weeks now.

***

Oscar now thinks Dirk and Dora are waiting for weather that's warm enough for all-day, outside drinking binges. This activity, according to Oscar, was the primary reason for their original purchase of Burning Manor. Aside from camping, he says it's the only way, legally speaking, to drink alcohol outdoors.

Mid-June is when Oscar thinks they'll be back.

***

Weed has the best theory regarding Dirk and Dora and the still-empty Burning Manor.

He thinks they've simply forgotten to move back to Burning Manor. When you live the kind of chaotic life they do, Weed explained, it's easy to lose track of time.

"They could be on some kind of two-week boozing binge. And moving back into the house has stumbled away from their heads," he said.

Weed thinks they'll remember to move back when the binge ends. He says it shouldn't be long now.

I suppose anything is possible.

***

Have You Seen My Trampoline?

Oscar and I held the year's first outdoor edition of our show on Saturday night.

We took drink on my front steps, even though the early evening hours are still rather frigid. The first long weekend in May is always the first for many outdoor activities. It's when many people in the old town go to their cottages or go camping for the first time. For others, it's the first day to do serious yard work.

For Oscar and me, it's the time to take the show back outside.

During the evening, we had two guests on the show. Computer Doug was walking outside to put some empty pizza boxes in his compost bin. He saw us sitting on my porch and quickly decided to become our first guest. Later on, Little Doug joined us for a short cameo appearance.

Computer Doug was wearing a pair of brown suede slippers, a red Rolling Stones T-shirt and a pair of brown pyjama bottoms. The pyjama bottoms were covered in small images of cartoon grasshoppers.

According to Computer Doug, the pyjama bottoms are one-of-a-kind. He bought them on eBay a few months ago.

***

Oscar, Weed, Little Doug and your friendly agent took a leisurely stroll to the coffee cathedral on Saturday afternoon. Little Doug received his income tax refund the day before. He was going to buy everyone an iced cappuccino.

On the way back to the Sack, we encountered a small poster attached to a telephone pole. The poster was on plain paper and obviously produced by a laser printer. In large bold letters was the word, "WANTED." In smaller letters was the following:

"Information about the whereabouts of the trampoline taken on May 16th from 21 Pleasant Street. And who took it."

A phone number was listed so citizens could provide information on the missing trampoline. And who took it.

***

"Jumping Jehosophat!" Oscar said. "A trampoline thief!"

Little Doug made sucking noises with the straw that came with his iced cappuccino.

***

Trampoline thieves are obviously in the area. Pleasant Street is not far from the Sack.

This is the first time any of us had heard of trampoline theft. One can imagine that a trampoline mustn't be an easy thing to purloin. Nor would it be something that is easily hidden.

According to Oscar, if the trampoline thief was a local person, he would have to keep the trampoline under wraps for some time. A trampoline theft would still be fresh in people's minds, so it would be too risky for the thief to simply set it up in his own backyard.

Six months, Oscar said, would be the minimum length of time to hide the trampoline. After that, people's minds would wander to other things and it would probably be safe to put it out in the open.

***

Weed thought six months was a preposterous length of time to keep a trampoline hidden.

Three months would be more than enough time, in Weed's opinion, for people to forget about the missing trampoline.

Oscar and Weed began to argue about the minimum length of time needed to hide a stolen trampoline. Meanwhile, Little Doug told me that his daughter, Daisy used to own a small exercise trampoline. Apparently, she bought it one night after seeing it on a television infomercial. Little Doug says Daisy and Weed used to have a nasty habit of buying things from television infomercials while under the influence of marijuana. Most of the purchases were things neither had any use for.

On the positive side, Little Doug said, Weed and Daisy's soon-to-be-born child is expected to get "Hooked on Phonics" before he or she ever sees the inside of a classroom.

***

Little Doug said Daisy only used her small exercise trampoline a few times.

She told Little Doug it didn't work properly. Eventually, it began to attract dust in their garage. When the Sack held a street sale last year, Little Doug put it on the open market.

According to Little Doug, the trampoline sold to a tall and very obese man who drove up in a battered Volkswagen Golf. The man wore an enormous pair of black pants and a white tent-like T-shirt. Little Doug said the man was sweating profusely and had trouble getting in and out of the car.

Little Doug said the man was very pleased to buy the exercise trampoline. He said he'd been looking to buy a used one "for months."

The man paid five dollars for the trampoline. Little Doug says he hopes nothing bad happened to the man when he tried to use it.

***

No one expects the stolen trampoline to be recovered.

Weed says the theft is really a bad omen for Sack dwellers. It's a forewarning that summer will bring strange and inexplicable shenanigans to the Sack.

"Trampolines" he said solemnly, "are nothing but trouble."

***

Mellow Yellow

The next chapter in the Burning Manor affair has yet to begin.

The last piece of intelligence said Dirk and Dora would return to the rebuilt structure in mid-May. So far, there has been no sign of them.

Oscar thinks they might be having insurance problems. Maybe, he argued, they can't move back in until they've found a company to insure the house. When someone burns your house down on purpose, Oscar says it can be hard to find an insurance company. He could be right about this.

Gordon expects Dirk and Dora to move back in this weekend. It's a long weekend in the old town, so he thinks it will be the most likely time for such a move to happen. Gordon could be right about this, too.

***

Weed is the proud owner of a pair of bright yellow, European-style leather sneakers.

Computer Doug was the first Sack resident to catch a glimpse of the eye-catching foot apparel. Apparently, it was a foggy day in the old town and he was standing at his front window watching for a taxi that would take him to the airport.

Suddenly, he noticed the bright yellow sneakers making their way into the Sack. Computer Doug said it took several minutes to realize that Weed was attached to them.

***

Weed admits that his bright yellow sneakers may be somewhat startling to those with conventional tastes. But already, he claims, the shoes have proven to have a practical side.

Several weeks ago, Weed went to a house party with some friends. During the evening, he received a phone call from Daisy. She had gone out with some friends, but was now feeling tired. She needed Weed to pick her up and take her home.

Daisy has been pregnant now for almost eight months. She's due to give birth at the end of June. Weed describes her as "as big as a house."

In keeping with custom, Weed had taken his shoes off at the door. He said there were quite a few people at the party, so there was "a shoe stew" beside the front door. Apparently, it took only mere seconds to locate his bright yellow shoes in the pile.

If his shoes were black, brown or white, Weed exclaimed, he'd still be looking for them.

***

Daisy, by the way, found out that Weed has been describing her using the phrase, "as big as a house." She was more than a little miffed about it.

Normally, Daisy is quite svelte in her appearance. She hasn't added any more weight than one would expect during a pregnancy. However, she's still very sensitive about her weight.

When confronted, Weed admitted he has made the comment. Then he tried to explain what he really meant. Apparently, he told her he meant that, if Daisy was a house, she'd be the size of a starter home or a small bungalow. He didn't mean to suggest that she was overweight, at all.

According to Weed, his explanation fell on deaf ears.

***

Case Closed

The Cuba file remains open. Today should mark the end of it. Then it's back to the Sack.

***

Oscar was very proud of himself after we returned to the old town and made our exit from the airport.

When airport security became an issue after 9/11, Oscar decided that he would make sure never to set off airport metal detectors ever again. He said it was the least he could do to fight back against terrorism.

Ever since then, Oscar says he has been "clean." He says he pays special attention to belt buckles, loose coins, keys and pens every time he travels. Apparently, the Cuba trip gives him thirty-four consecutive successful passes through airport metal detectors.

A more noble man than Oscar would be tough to find.

***

Our flight home from Cuba was delayed for several hours.

At the airport in Varadero, Oscar orchestrated a game of passport poker involving us and another group from the old town. The game involves the last five digits of the identification number in one's Canadian passport.

I won five pesos. Apparently, my passport number contains a full house.

***

Speaking of passports, Mrs. Wonders was disappointed not to receive a Cuban stamp in hers.

Apparently, travellers with Cuban passport stamps may have difficulty entering the U.S. So, to be on the safe side, Cuba doesn't stamp your passport unless a request is made.

Given the option of an unstamped passport or a potential lifetime ban from travelling to the U.S., Mrs. Wonders wisely opted for the naked passport.

***

Many Cubans we met would not identify Fidel Castro by name during conversations. A few people referred to him as "Number One," while others simply stroked an imaginary beard.

Oscar said it would be very unfortunate to be known as "Number Two," especially if one was surrounded by people who enjoyed bathroom humour.

***

There was an eclectic mixture of television channels available at our Cuban resort.

In addition to some American cable stations (ESPN, Showtime, CNN), there were several Cuban stations and a few stations from China.

Although we watched very little television during the trip, Oscar and I reached the following conclusions about the boob tube at our resort:

• Cuban and Chinese stations have no interest in hockey playoffs. ESPN will show the results of a game only after reporting on the latest lawn bowling news.
  
  
• The baseball in Cuba is very high calibre. Although I saw only portions of a few games, it was apparent that some stadiums are in decay and field conditions are poor. Big Doug would've had a convulsion if he'd seen the state of the outfield at one place. A ball hit into a gap in left field was almost lost in a mushroom cloud of dust. Flicking channels to a ball game on ESPN was like the transition from black and white to colour in the Wizard of Oz.
  
  
• The weather guy on the state Cuban channel is a doctor. I'm not sure if he's a medical doctor or a doctor of meteorology. I wouldn't rule out a medical doctor, because our tour guide in Havana had a PhD in engineering.

***

The most bizarre thing I've ever seen on television was on one of the Cuban stations.

While it seemed to have some resemblance to Roller Derby, it was actually a bonafide athletic event. About five men in matching shorts, T-shirts and wearing old-fashioned roller skates, sped around an outdoor running track. Another man in a different outfit tried, unsuccessfully, to outskate them.

All of the men wore very tightfitting, high-cut shorts and tight T-shirts. There was something vaguely homoerotic about the whole thing. The track was surrounded by a sparse line of trees. There was only a handful of people in attendance, including one man who sat against a tree, looking off in a different direction.

***

Oscar claims he saw the odd roller-skating thing on television, too. He also claims that one of the men was wearing one of Big Doug's "Hurry, Hard!" T-shirts.

I know for a fact that Oscar is making this up. However, I'm committed to confirming this story for the sake of winding up Big Doug.

***

That's it - - - we're done with the Cuba file. Now, it's definitely back to the Sack.

***

Inside the Actor's Studio

Sack news is piling up. But we're still trying to finish up the Cuba file.

***

The lobby bar at our resort was an interesting place.

It was a modern, elegant room with a high ceiling. One side was opened directly to an expanse of white sand and then the turquoise water of the Caribbean Sea. When it was windy, large translucent screens came down from the ceiling to protect patrons from the elements. This gave the place a very exotic feel. At night, it also made for some curious shadows.

The lobby bar was open twenty-four hours a day. It was almost always a beehive of activity. Even at eight in the morning, it could be hard to find a seat.

***

On most mornings, I stopped by the lobby bar after breakfast to have an espresso. The regular "American coffee" served at the breakfast buffet was a vile substance. It tasted like liquified cardboard might, if there was such a thing.

The lobby bar served espresso and cappuccino, in addition to alcohol. This made it a popular place for the coffee drinker in the morning and after dinner.

During the early morning hours, it was also a popular place for folks who probably drink too much alcohol.

***

I met Oscar in the lobby bar every time I went there in the morning. We didn't plan to meet. It just worked out that way.

Even though it was before nine o'clock in the morning, Oscar would always be drinking beer. I'm not saying that he takes too much of the drink, of course. I'm just saying that he likes to get his money's worth when he takes an all-inclusive vacation.

***

Oscar and I would spend an hour or so watching people come and go from the lobby bar.

Our favourite fellow customer was a deeply-tanned gentleman who appeared to be in his early fifties. He wore a pair of sunglasses which we never saw him remove. Oscar told me the man was from the Czech Republic. I'm not sure how Oscar knew this, but I think it might be true.

The Czech man had a shock of white, wavy hair. He also wore a very neat, white goatee. The goatee was trimmed with great precision. The deep tan seemed to enhance the whiteness of the hair on his head and face. It certainly made for a striking contrast.

Oscar said the man looked like a cross between Colonel Sanders and Kenny Rogers.

The man always sat by himself in the lobby bar. On most mornings, he would sit at a table absently sipping cappuccino. On a few occasions, he did the same with a glass of rum punch. He always used his left hand to hold his drink. There were two large gold rings on this hand.

He didn't have any rings on his other hand. But there was still something notable about it. The man was missing his pointing finger.

Oscar says he always feels vaguely uneasy when he sees someone who has lost a finger.

***

On several mornings, the Czech man wore a crisp linen suit and a shirt opened at the neck. The suit was a vanilla colour, but the shirt was white. On his head was a white fedora with a thick black band. A neatly folded handkerchief sat smartly in his breast pocket.

On his feet was a pair of expensive leather sandals.

Oscar said the man looked like he came "straight from Central Casting." I think he could be right about that.

***

On one lazy morning, the Czech man wore a blue velour track suit and a pair of white loafers. Instead of a fedora, a blue beret sat snugly on his noggin. And, of course, he wore his sunglasses.

This was the same morning when Oscar and I agreed the Czech man was most dapper fellow either of us had seen for some time.

***

Dapper, according to Wiktionary, means neat, trim or stylishly dressed.

Oscar says nobody aspires to be dapper anymore. He says it has gone completely out of style. He also thinks this is a good thing.

"Besides," he exclaimed, "no one has time to be dapper these days, anyway."

I told him I really hadn't given the matter much thought.

***

Oscar says he's never been a big fan of the dapper look.

If he ever starts to dress in a dapper fashion, he said it would be a sign that he has gone completely crazy. If this were to happen, Oscar says I should punch him very hard in the face, so he can come to his senses.

I told him I would be happy to help.

***

It was interesting to see both Czechs and Slovaks at the Cuban resort.

Oscar says the formation of the two countries and the dissolution of Czechoslovakia had to be one of the smoothest political separations ever. With so much bloodshed in countless world hot spots, he said the Czechs and Slovaks were like a couple who had a "good" divorce.

According to Wikipedia, it was actually a "Velvet Divorce."

Oscar thinks the Czechs and Slovaks should be in charge of sorting out some of the world's conflicts because of this. He said the Czechs and Slovaks would investigate each conflict and then come up with a resolution that would be binding for all of the relevant combatants.

"Whatever the Czechs and Slovaks say goes." he said emphatically.

This is the kind of thing people talk about when they drink beer before nine o'clock in the morning.

***

An English couple of indeterminate age were also regulars at the lobby bar. They looked like they were in their forties, but they could've easily been a pair of worn out thirty-year-olds, too.

It was really hard to tell.

***

The English man was very big and beefy. He also had a very severe-looking brush cut. This made it easy to see the multitude of scars on the back of his skull.

His face might be best described as muscular in appearance. Oscar disagreed with this. He said the man's face resembled a bag of potatoes.

I'm sticking with muscular.

***

Oscar said if Central Casting received a request for an English soccer hooligan, it would not take long to fill the order.

"This guy," he said, jerking his thumb discreetly behind him, "would easily score the gig."

Oscar was probably right about this. The guy wore a different version of an England soccer jersey every day. He even had a chipped front tooth.

***

After his first day in the sun, the Englishman acquired a furiously-red sun burn. Oscar said this made the man's face look like an angry bag of potatoes.

I thought it just made his face look red and muscular.

***

The Englishman's wife had long, straight and lifeless hair. She was deeply-tanned, but in a way that left her skin wrinkled and drawn. This seemed to give her a permanent look of dull amazement.

It would be a grave omission if one did not, at this point, mention her breasts. Simply put, they were very large and gravity-defying. They were so clearly enhanced by surgical means that Oscar said he was surprised he couldn't see a price tag dangling from them.

***

The English couple began their day at the lobby bar by sitting together in a wordless stupor. Each of them sat slumped in a chair nursing a glass of beer.

Oscar says "drink nursing" is a lost art. I have no idea about this.

There were only brief moments where we saw the couple interact with each other. The rest of their time was spent staring into the distance. Occasionally, the man would take a draw of beer from his glass. He would lick his lips after each drink. Then he would grimace and continue gaping. Most of the time he looked like he was trying to think of something to get angry about. Just when it looked like he might think of something, he seemed to lose his train of thought. Then he would have a quizzical look on his face for a while.

***

Oscar said it's possible the couple were hired by the resort to provide live, unannounced performance art for patrons of the lobby bar.

I think he could be right about that.

***

Another lobby bar regular was a trim, but nondescript middle-aged man.

Oscar said he thought the guy was a Canadian, but I didn't hear him speak at all, so it was hard to tell. He always sat alone drinking cappuccino and smoking a cigar. Every now and then, he took a pen from his breast pocket and wrote in a notebook that lay on the table.

When he was finished, he would put the pen back in his breast pocket until he decided to write again.

***

Oscar said the man was probably a professional writer. This could be true.

He figured the guy was probably making notes about Colonel Kenny Rogers, the English soccer hooligan and his withered, but well-endowed wife.

He could be right about that, too.

But something tells me the guy could have been writing about the two knobbly-kneed, sunburnt hosers from Canada, too.

One wore a Panama hat and drank beer before nine in the morning. The other wore a ball cap with the insignia of the Toronto Maple Leafs and drank more espresso than he probably should.

And even though the Colonel and the English couple had their interesting qualities, the writer was probably more intrigued by the pair of Canadians. Undoubtedly, he would have noticed the dazed, bewildered look of two cul-de-sac dwellers.

The two men, the writer likely concluded, probably arrived at the lobby bar straight from Central Casting.

***

Holidays in the Sun

Carribean beach resorts are like summer camps for grownups. They're probably quite similar throughout the region and certainly, they don't reflect much about the country and people where they're located.

A beach side resort is where we spent most of our time while in Cuba

So the following observations about the country will hardly rival what you might find in a Michelin guide.

***

On average, Cuban women are strikingly beautiful.

Mrs. Wonders is in full agreement with this assessment. She thinks the men are no slouches, either. I would have to agree.

***

From a typical North American perspective, the standard of living for most people we saw in Cuba appeared to be below par. I'm told that some food items continue to be rationed. In Havana, tourists drew persistent attention from people asking for money or trying to sell roasted peanuts, worthless "commemorative coins" or bogus Cohiba cigars.

The people I saw in Cuba didn't, however, seem to be starving. People seemed quite healthy, fit and vibrant. In the short time we were there, we didn't see anyone suffering from obesity, either.

So whatever one might think about the Cuban government, they're doing something right when it comes to the public health. And some people would say that a nation's wealth is best recognized by looking at the health of its people.

Maybe Cuba has something it can teach about health care to western capitalist countries.

***

In Havana, I was besieged by two old men playing small plastic guitars. Neither man's guitar had a complete set of strings. And neither man seemed familiar with how the instrument was played. Of course, this didn't stop them from frantically plucking at the strings.

The two men were dressed in bullfighting outfits. They also wore sombreros. The bullfighting outfits had clearly seen better days.

The men tried to corner me against a wall while they sang in unison. They were planning to serenade me whether I liked it or not. At the end, I would be expected to give them a few pesos each for the privilege.

The song the men were singing was "La Cucaracha."

***

At first, I was captivated and confused by the sight and sound of the men. Even if I tried, I don't think I could have imagined such a sight.

The thought of it now still leaves me feeling slightly unnerved.

Eventually, I regained my senses and took quick action to elude the two men. As I explained to Oscar when I returned to the resort, I gave the men a double-right head fake. Then I darted to the left.

I've always been good at eluding things.

***

Doo was right about the ice cream in Cuba. I tried some at our resort and found it wanting.

I think I owe the boy a cone.

***

Mrs. Wonders and I went on a guided tour of Havana with a small group of people. In the group was people from Canada, Mexico, Italy, Slovakia and Britain.

Our guide was an affable former teacher named Lorenzo. He was passionately knowledgeable about his city and country. He seemed to know the date of every significant event in Cuban history.

He knew the dates of a lot of insignificant events, too.

***

Even though the trip to Havana lasted only a day, it was a memorable experience.

Havana seems to pulse with a sense of history, even though not all of it, unfortunately, is pleasant. There are some beautifully restored buildings, some dating back centuries. And, of course, the impossibly well-maintained American cars from the late fifties, give the city almost a surreal look.

There are also a lot of old Soviet-era vehicles. These ones don't seem to be carrying their age as well as the American ones.

The most bizarre vehicles are known as "camel buses." They function as part of the public transportation system around the city. Apparently, they sometimes hold up to three hundred people at a time.

Lorenzo said that riding in a camel bus is an experience much like Cuban cinema. Both, he explained, would provide you with sex, violence and intrigue.

Then he asked if we'd like to take a ride in one. We told him we'd just take his word for what it might be like.

***

The second last stop on our tour was supposed to be Revolution Plaza. I'm told this is where Fidel Castro engages in passionate oratory for the benefit of the Cuban people.

On this particular day, the police were blocking the entrances to the historic place. According to Lorenzo, Fidel, himself, would be making an address to the faithful within a matter of hours.

As we learned later, it wasn't just Fidel who would be speaking. He would be joined by Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela and the recently elected president of Bolivia, Evo Morales.

Both men lead populist, democratically-elected socialist governments. They must be the first new friends Fidel has made since the Russians wandered away in the early nineties.

***

It would have been an interesting life experience to be in the audience while Fidel and the two other men spoke. Unfortunately, only the party faithful were being admitted to this particular gathering.

Oscar says I should have declared my membership in the Sack Resident's Society. He thinks I would have been admitted into the gathering had I did so.

I remain very doubtful about that.

***

Fortunately, the speeches were shown on Cuban television.

Fidel, Hugo and Evo spoke for considerable periods. Even without knowledge of Spanish, it was easy to hear the passion in their voices.

Every now and then, each of them would say these same two words:

"George" and "Bush."

In Spanish, it seems these words are always spoken while jabbing one's fingers emphatically in the air.

***

Even casual observation leads to the firm conclusion that Mr. Bush is not held in very high esteem by the Cuban government. Billboards and wall murals with his name and caricature are plentiful, especially in Havana.

The "Bush Plan" seems to be a matter of great consternation.

Apparently, this plan involves the invasion of Cuba and the return of property taken from Americans after the Cuban revolution.

Oscar said he couldn't understand what the fuss was about. He thinks it's highly unlikely the Americans will invade Cuba anytime soon.

"Perhaps," Oscar said, as he sipped on his rum punch, "Fidel hasn't noticed that George's troops are kind of busy right now."

***

We also saw billboards decrying the fate of the Cuban Five. Many of the billboards were placed where they would be easily seen by international visitors. Inside the airport in Varadero, there was a huge wall mural devoted to the five men.

It's fairly clear that the Cuban government wants everyone to know about this story. They don't think these Cuban nationals received a fair trial in the United States. They would like to see the men returned to Cuba.

Of course, Cuban-Americans would have a lot to say about people being held prisoner in Cuba, too.

***

On the road to Havana, one can also see socialist slogans on billboards and wall murals. It's quite a thing to see.

The signs encourage people to work hard and be determined, steadfast and strong.

It's hard to gauge the tone of the slogans, however. Sometimes the words look patriotic and jubilant. On other occasions, the words read more like a demand from the government.

I suppose it's probably meant to be a mixture of the two.

***

The best part of the trip to Cuba didn't have anything to do with Cuban history, politics or geography. It didn't have anything to do with George Bush, either.

The best part of the trip was the water slide located at one of the resort's swimming pools.

It had been a long time since I'd been on a water slide. I've been spending so much time trying to be a grown-up, I forgot about water slides completely.

I don't think I'm going to make that mistake again.

***

The water slide wasn't very big. In total, it was about twenty feet high and it only took mere seconds to spin through it into the water. Most people would hydroplane for a few feet before landing in an area of the pool not far from the swim-up bar.

It was exhilarating and refreshing.

***

It was impossible to go down the slide once. I had to use it at least three times in succession, before I would go back to sun-soaking.

In the beginning, Mrs. Wonders and I would go down the slide and then I would immediately say, "Lets do it again!" And so we would.

Later, my words shrank to a determined but simple "Again" each time I emerged from the water. Near the end of the trip, I just made a beeline for the water slide stairs without saying anything at all.

***

It would be interesting to know if Fidel Castro and George Bush have ever been on a water slide before.

Something tells me both would like it a great deal.

Fidel has always been the swashbuckling type. I suppose you would have to be if you were in the business of carrying out a revolution. It probably wouldn't take much to convince him to give a water slide a try.

George Bush is supposed to be an avid mountain bike rider. In his younger days, I'm told he was fond of college hijinks. Something tells me he would be up for a ride on a water slide.

***

Maybe George and Fidel could get together for an afternoon at a pool.

They could have some fun together on the water slide. Maybe it would even help them find a way to get along together.

If it worked, maybe George could invite that Iranian president over for some water slide fun.

He looks like he could use it.

***

Next: A few more things about Cuba.