Suburban Mysteries

If you entered the Sack for the first time, you would be struck first by its sheer normalcy. If not for the license plates on the cars, you could only imagine that you were in Anytown, Anywhere.

But first glances are often misleading. If you lived in the Sack for even a short period, you would soon encounter strange and unexplainable shenanigans.

For some unknown reason, some of the strangest events occur in the vicinity of the Wonders' driveway.

***

Last year, your agent found an intact low-fat blueberry muffin at the bottom of the driveway. There were no clues as to the muffin's origins or how it came to rest in that spot. Today, the event remains at the top of the Sack's "unsolved cases" file.

Last Wednesday, a new and more compelling mystery revealed itself on the Wonders' driveway. It was a shocking affair that had all of the elements of a good British mystery. It was obvious that some kind of foul play had occurred, but precious few clues as to the truth of the matter.

But there was no mistaking the two corpses on the Wonders' driveway.

***

As is her custom, Mrs. Wonders left the house to go to the local coffee cathedral early on Wednesday morning. After picking up two cups of java (single cream, no sugar, thanks), she usually returns to the house to pick up your agent for the drive to our respective jobs. It's a wonderful thing for her to do this, as I'm prone to dilly-dallying in the morning. By the time I'm ready, she is back in the Sack with our caffeine supply.

But on this Wednesday, Mrs. Wonders was stopped in her tracks when she glimpsed the carnage on the driveway. She returned to the house immediately. I was getting dressed in the kitchen, while simultaneously completing the Sudoku puzzle from the Daily Snooze.

"I think you better come outside," she said calmly. "It looks like we have a situation out on the driveway."

***

I saw the two corpses right away.

They were sprawled on their backs with their limbs hanging in the air. I could see a spot of blood on the stomach of one corpse. The other didn't appear to have any observable wounds. But it was clear that both were dead.

On the Wonders' driveway were the bodies of two mice.

***

It would be one thing to find a single dead mouse on your driveway. In the simple brutality of the animal world, such things can happen.

And, of course, Little Doug has a posse of outdoor cats. These animals have forged a killing patch at the back of his house. It's littered with dead rodents and birds. Distracted by something, it would be easy to envision one of Little Doug's cats dropping a dead mouse on the driveway en route to the killing patch.

But this certainly wouldn't explain how two mice found death on the Wonders' driveway at the same time.

***

There were varying opinions about the origins of the dead mice.

Little Doug was the first to call it a clear case of murder. He thinks it's quite likely that one or more of his cats were involved. He could be right about this.

Oscar, however, suspects each rodent suffered a massive stroke at the same time. A stroke, according to Oscar, is well known as "the silent killer." While I have great respect for strokes, I remain doubtful about this.

I reminded him that high blood pressure was known as "the silent killer." However, according to a Google search on the matter, there are a lot of things known as "the silent killer."

***

Weed, on the other hand, believes the rodent deaths were a matter of suicide. He said he could imagine that it must be very depressing to be a mouse "in this day and age."

When faced with skepticism about his suicide theory, Weed said he was leaving the door open for the possibility of a murder-suicide. He said this would explain the rather obvious wound on one of the mice.

***

Personally, I have no idea why there were two dead mice on the Wonders' driveway last Wednesday morning. I'm not sure if I want to know, either.

Not knowing something can be very helpful in some circumstances. I think this might be one of them.

***

Computer Doug had a completely different opinion on the matter.

He heard about the dead mice from Little Doug and approached me on the Wonders' driveway on Thursday afternoon. He cast a nervous glance onto the driveway as he drew closer. During a rare idle moment in his work-at-home day, Oscar had drawn white chalk lines around the little mouse bodies. The dead mice were now long gone, but the chalk outlines remained. Computer Doug seemed to shudder a little bit when he saw the outlines.

"That's where it happened, eh?" he asked solemnly.

"That's right," I replied.

"What did you do with the mice?" he asked.

"Flung them in woods," I answered, nodding toward the treed area behind Oscar's house.

Computer Doug nodded approvingly. Then he told me that the dead mice were likely a symbolic message. He said it was my job to interpret it and "govern yourself accordingly." For all he knew, he said it could also be a warning.

***

I told Computer Doug that I had no interest in messages or metaphors that involved dead mice. He said he wasn't surprised to hear this, but felt I was probably taking a big risk in ignoring the matter.

"It's dead mice on your driveway today," he said with authority, "and then a horse head in your bed tomorrow."

Computer Doug recently purchased a boxed DVD set of Mario Puzo's The Godfather on eBay.

***

News about shenanigans in the Sack travels quickly. Everyone I've encountered since Wednesday has immediately raised the matter of the dead mice. Most asked without even uttering a word of greeting first.

"Heard about your mice," was what Gordon said. There seemed to a very slight inflection on the word your. Perhaps this was just my imagination.

"They weren't my mice," I replied. "They just happened to collapse on my driveway."

Gordon said, "So they were poisoned, eh?"

I told him I had no idea about what caused the rodents to die.

***

Later the same day, Elizabeth took me to task for using poison around my home.

She's the Sack's leading environmentalist. She has seen Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth twice. Her first viewing was in Montreal. Then she saw it again when it was shown in the old town.

I quickly assured her of my innocence in the matter. I also reminded her about my push mower, as an example of my commitment toward respect for the natural world. A push mower advocate would never use poison on his property.

This reminder seemed to satisfy her. I told her I had no idea about how the rodents died.

"It's a mystery," I said flatly.

***

Elizabeth considered the matter for a few seconds and then fought hard to stifle a smile. Then she said, "Maybe they were mice suicides?" Then she started laughing awkwardly.

Typically, Elizabeth is not a person who's accustomed to laughter, especially her own. That's why she laughs like she needs more practice.

***

Yesterday afternoon, young Doo appeared on the Wonders' driveway as I made my exit from the car.

With his head cocked and one eye in a squint, he asked if he could have a look at my dead mice. He seemed offended when I told him that I had already disposed of their bodies.

"What did you do with them?" he asked.

Doo is currently in a long-term relationship with a speech therapist. When he says the word "with," it sounds like "wiff." It took all of my energy not to say, "Nuffin."

Instead, I said, "Flung them in the woods." Then I nodded toward the back of Oscar's house.

Like Computer Doug, Doo nodded approvingly and then headed toward Oscar's house.

***

The last person who mentioned the dead mice affair was Jeff Christ. He was on his way toward Oscar's house. Apparently, he was enlisted to help Oscar with a computer problem.

Weed says this is just a ploy by Oscar to have Jeff Christ walk on his lawn. He could be right about this.

Jeff Christ said he had heard about the dead mice. "Poor little guys," he said kindly. Then he asked, "What did you do with them?"

"Flung them in the woods," I replied. I added a slight, apologetic tone to my voice.

Jeff Christ winced a bit, but then nodded his approval. Then he said, "Well, at the least the little critters got a chance to fly. That's more than what some mice get."

I told him that was the most sensible thing I had heard about the matter since last Wednesday morning.

***

Green With Envy

Sometimes it's hard to think of something interesting to talk about in the italicized prelude to these tales about life in the Sack. It can certainly be a great challenge to one's creative abilities.

Most of the time, however, we rise to the occasion with some degree of success. Unfortunately, this isn't one of those times.

***

It has been a good year for grass in the Sack.

Rainfall was higher than average, so lawns were green and full. Three Sack residents replaced their existing lawns with new sod. Two of them now enjoy a thick carpet of healthy, robust grass.

So picking this year's most exceptional Sack lawn proved to be a challenging matter.

***

The owner of the most exceptional grass wins the best lawn award. This is an unofficial honour that we bestow every year on a worthy Sack resident.

The best lawn award is more of a tongue-in-cheek nod toward its winner. By comparison, the Doug of the Year (DOTY) award is a very serious matter. The only thing the two awards have in common is that the recipient is often unaware of the honour.

If the best lawn award was more important, the first letter of each word would be capitalized. When capital letters are used in an award's name, you can bet it's a serious matter.

Capital letters always mean business.

***

The best lawn award is really a mixed blessing for the winner.

On one hand, the winner receives acknowledgement for his (or her) lovely lawn. But he's also being recognized for his fastidious and slightly obsessive nature.

Either way, the best lawn award is still an achievement. The winner gets the spotlight for being exceptional amongst his peers.

And everyone, of course, loves a winner.

***

Big Doug has won the best lawn award every year since its inception. Each time, Gordon has been the runner-up.

Big Doug and Gordon, in fact, have been the only Sack residents ever to contend for the award.

The rest of the Sack has tended toward two distinct camps when it comes to lawn care. The first group is made up by those who give their grass regular care, but aren't overly concerned about the results. This group includes the majority of Sack residents.

The second group is smaller, but still significant. These are people who, as Big Doug explains it, "don't give a rat's arse" about their homes, never mind their lawns.

***

The best lawn award was addressed last weekend on our show. Weed was our lone guest for the entire evening. This gave us a perfect three-person panel for making a decision on the matter.

For the first time ever, there were four contenders. After a short debate, two were eliminated from consideration. This left us with two finalists.

***

Elizabeth was one of the contenders dropped after the opening debate. She was also one of the Sack residents who acquired new sod earlier this summer.

It was quite ironic that Elizabeth would be a contender for the award. After all, she's the Sack's leading environmentalist. With her original lawn, her particular approach to organic lawn care resulted in a tangled mass of prickly weeds. Even a last-ditch, clandestine effort with a chemical spray couldn't bring her old lawn back to life.

In the end, she decided to start all over again.

***

Elizabeth's new lawn remains in reasonably good shape. Good enough, of course, to be mentioned as a contender.

Unfortunately, she's still using her old approach to lawn care. Already there are small pockets of weeds taking form. Oscar says she needs to do something different or she'll end up right back where she started from. He could be right about this.

Insanity, as the great American, Ben Franklin once said, is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

***

Gordon was the other contender who didn't it make through to the final. This marks the first time he hasn't been one of the two finalists.

The decision to eliminate him from the award wasn't difficult. Gordon's house is currently undergoing renovation. He's having a small solarium added at the back of his house. As a result, a good part of his lawn has been affected by construction activities.

Of course, the grass that's unaffected by the renovation is in pristine condition. There's no question that Gordon would've been a finalist again if not for the renovations.

Under normal circumstances, Gordon is positively frantic about lawn care. Oscar says this is ultimately the characteristic that leads to Gordon's perennial second place finish. He says it's a good example of how "trying too hard" can be someone's downfall.

Oscar, of course, is always mindful about trying too hard at anything.

***

Despite receiving a new lawn this year, Burning Manor didn't even come close to consideration for the award.

Within two months and despite good conditions, the new grass quickly took on the colour of ripened corn. Bald patches are starting to take shape and the first weeds have started to take hold. Dirk made a few efforts at lawn care, but it certainly wasn't enough. Dora, on the other hand, seems completely unaware of such matters.

***

Weed says there is bad karma emanating from Burning Manor. He says it has seeped into the soil over time. A healthy lawn, he says, would seem impossible.

Oscar says he's going to ask Little Doug if there's anything that can be done about an infestation of bad karma on one's lawn. Little Doug, he argues, can repair just about anything and almost always has the right tool for the job.

According to Oscar, there is even a good chance that Little Doug will have something in his garage that can fix bad karma. I remain doubtful about this.

***

Weed caused a lengthy digression during the best lawn deliberations with his rant about coloured lawns.

He wondered if grass could be genetically engineered to grow in different colours. He said it would be a fantastic thing to have a purple lawn. Oscar couldn't really decide which colour he would prefer. He said it would be a toss-up between blood red and turquoise.

I said I would prefer a rainbow-coloured lawn. The water sprinkler would shoot pixie dust into the air. And Mrs. Wonders' front garden areas would be filled with daisies.

Weed failed to see the humour in this. He said, "Now you're just talking crazy."

***

Eventually, we returned to the matter of the best Sack lawn.

The first of the two finalists was Big Doug. Once again, he produced a lawn worthy of the world's best golf courses. If one could choose only three words to describe Big Doug's lawn, it would be the following: Short, green and even.

If you can find a single blemish on his lawn, then you're a better man than I.

***

The second finalist was Ben. He was the other person to replace his sod at the beginning of the season.

Ben has worked very hard to let the new sod flourish. His new lawn has grown thick and full. The grass is a deep green colour. Ben cuts it with the mower blades set high. This has kept his grass long, luxurious and healthy.

***

Oscar argued passionately on behalf of Ben. If you were ever going to pass out on a lawn, he argued, you should consider yourself lucky to wake up on Ben's.

"Ben's lawn," Oscar said, as he raised a glass of drink to his lips, "is a lawn with substance."

It's also a very natural-looking lawn, in Oscar's opinion. By keeping it longer than usual, the grass looks very full. It looks like its just bursting from the ground. The dark green colour makes it look almost vibrant.

***

Weed was dead-set against Ben's lawn winning the award. In fact, he argued for its complete disqualification. He says the presence of Jeff Christ in Ben's home gives Ben an unfair advantage in the lawn care department.

All Jeff has to do, according to Weed, is to walk over Ben's lawn and it will be rejuvenated. He says this is the kind of power the Son of God throws around without even trying.

Weed said he used to have a small wart on the inside of his right baby finger. Apparently, it has almost disappeared since he shook hands with Jeff Christ back in late June.

This kind of power, Weed argued, gave Ben a huge edge in the area of lawn maintenance. He said Jeff walks across the lawn almost every day when the young man leaves for his job at Canadian Tire. The lawn, according to Weed, was getting first class treatment on a regular basis. And most of all, Ben didn't have anything to do with it.

***

Big Doug, on the other hand, is tireless in his lawn care routines. At least, that's how Weed described it.

All anyone has to do after they look at Big Doug's lawn, he said, is to look at his approach to lawn tool maintenance. Weed says this is how Big Doug manages to stay "a cut above the rest" when it comes to lawn results.

Weed says Big Doug is like a one-man NASCAR pit crew with his lawn mower. When cutting is finished, he says Big Doug performs a complete cleaning and tune-up of the mower. This extra effort allows him to mow the grass to such a sharp and precise degree.

***

The debate between Big Doug and Weed raged on. Eventually, they realized that I held the deciding vote. So they redirected their respective opinions toward your agent.

Finally, I told them that both made a provocative argument for their candidate. But neither convinced me that their candidate was more worthy than the other. From my own perspective, Big Doug and Ben were equally worthy of the best lawn award.

So I was prepared to cast my vote for the candidate supported by whoever was willing to rake the leaves from the Wonders' property next month.

***

Big Doug was the winner once again. I believe this is the seventh year in a row that he has won the award. It's also the second time that someone has broken the tie by agreeing to rake the Wonders' leaves. A few years ago, Little Doug agreed to do it, in exchange for my support.

I'm a big fan of the three-person panel.

***

Pleased to Meet You

Italics can save your life. Consider the following:

It's a fire.

It's a fire.

The non-italicized sentence is merely a statement. There's no suggestion of what to do about the matter. The italicized version has far more depth to it. It informs and makes a suggestion. It's telling you, as Big Doug likes to say, to watch out for your arse.

When italics are used, an exclamation mark is unnecessary. The italics render it redundant. That's how powerful italics can be.

Weed claims that he used to know a guy who spoke almost entirely in italics. Apparently he was quite an excitable chap.

He sounds exactly like the kind of fellow you'd want around if a fire suddenly started.

***

Earlier this month, Hurricane Florence cast a brief glance in the old town's general direction. Thankfully, it passed well to the south of us.

Hot on Florence's heels was Hurricane Gordon. It posed no danger to us either.

Florence and Gordon, of course, are also the names of people who live in the Sack. Oscar found it very amusing that two hurricanes in a row were named after Sack residents. He said it would be eerie if it happened for a third time.

But this wasn't going to happen. There aren't any Sack people with a first name that begins with "H."

***

Supposedly, there is one person in the Sack with a middle name that begins with "H." According to Oscar, Ben's middle name is Horatio.

I remain very doubtful about this.

***

The most recent storm is Hurricane Helene. It's expected to follow the same path as the two previous storms. So it's not expected to affect the old town, either.

And there isn't anyone in the Sack named Helene.

***

The subject of names is a recurring theme in Sack life.

Several times a year, we have the privilege of bestowing a name on some new or existing Sack resident. Sometimes we're naming one of Florence's (the neighbour, not the hurricane) foreign students. It could also be the matter of a new nickname for someone. The last nickname we were responsible for was Sticky, young Doo's relatively new stepdad.

More recently, we've had to come up some new baby monikers.

***

About three times a year, Florence hosts a foreign female student in her home for periods of four to six weeks. The young women are usually student teachers back in their own countries. They visit the old town for an intensive English language course.

Florence, of course, is a teacher in the old town. The hosting gig is arranged through her union. It provides her with some extra income and she seems to enjoy meeting the younger teachers.

Many of the young teachers are from Asia. When they arrive in Canada, many of them choose to use an English first name for the duration of their trip. Sometimes, Florence will ask Sack residents for their assistance in choosing a name for one of her visitors.

Choosing a new name for someone is a privilege, of course. Oscar and I take the matter very seriously. Whenever Florence asks for Sack opinions (and even when she doesn't) we dedicate a segment of our show to the practice. Oscar likes to call the segment, "Name That Teacher."

***

It has been some time, however, since we've had a "Name That Teacher" segment on our show. The opportunities have been few and far between. And this isn't because Florence hasn't had any foreign boarders this year, either.

Last June, a young Chinese teacher arrived at Florence's house for a month-long stay. Oscar was very dismayed to learn that the young woman had arrived with an English name already chosen. Apparently, she had the audacity to choose the name herself.

The name the young woman chose was Candy. Oscar says this was the name he was thinking about anyway.

I remain very doubtful about this, too.

***

Weed is enamoured with the idea of getting a new first name whenever you visit another country. He thinks it would be a dandy thing to put your own name aside for a while and try on a new one.

"After all," he argued, "nobody gets to choose their own first name when they're born, do they?"

If he ever went to Britain for a vacation, Weed said he would want to be known as Shane. If he went to the U.S., he would want people to call him Chip.

Oscar said he would go with Aristotle in the UK and Socrates in America. No matter where I go, I'm sticking with Guy Wonders.

***

Last week, Florence welcomed her latest foreign teacher. This young woman is from South Korea.

Oscar was excited to learn that a new boarder had arrived at Florence's house. He said we were long-overdue for the opportunity to name a teacher or two. The only way we get better at something, Oscar says, is by practising. If we didn't get some new naming opportunities, he said we were certain to lose our edge.

But Oscar was incensed when he learned that Florence, once again, didn't need our naming skills. Unlike her Chinese predecessor, the South Korean woman simply didn't require an English name. She was perfectly happy to visit the old town with her own Korean first name.

Brazen was the word Oscar kept using to describe the young woman.

***

Of course, this didn't stop us from giving her a new Canadian name anyway. We considered the matter on the "Name That Teacher" segment of our most recent show.

It didn't take us very long to come up with a new name for the young South Korean woman, either. One would've expected us to be a bit rusty, after all. But it really turned out to be a simple matter.

For the next five weeks, the young teacher will be known as Helene.

Helene, of course, is now the third consecutive Sack resident to share a name with a hurricane. In addition to our Doug phenomenon, we've surely reached the ranks of the world's elite cul-de-sacs.

Take that, Pleasant Street.

***

Dancing With the Devil

The Oscarama edition of our show last Saturday saw a record number of guests. Almost all of them were drop-in guests. Only Little Doug was there for the entire show.

Little Doug used the show to debut his new upper dental plate. It finally arrived last week. Two previous plates had failed to meet with his approval. Apparently, neither fit properly.

Little Doug's original upper plate was damaged in an unfortunate accident. Apparently it had been knocked off the sink in an errant moment. Little Doug was unaware that it landed in a toilet that was subsequently used and flushed.

When he eventually made repairs to the blocked toilet, Little Doug recovered the dental plate.

Even though the teeth were still intact and functional, Little Doug said the psychological damage was already done.

Fortunately, Little Doug says this new dental plate looks like a keeper.

***

Equipped with his new teeth, Little Doug confirmed his intention to attend the Rolling Stones concert a few weeks from now. He said the new teeth will also allow him to become more serious about dating. He's been meeting people on a local internet singles site, but hasn't wanted to meet anyone in person until he had his upper teeth to flash around.

Little Doug says the dental plate will open up all kinds of new doors for him. He could be right about this.

***

Both Daisy and Weed were guests on the show. But they had to come at separate times because of Baby Doug. The show was on at the same time the wee one was supposed to be asleep. So they took turns keeping an eye on him.

This, of course, was just as well. Oscar has very strong opinions when it comes to babies on our show. He is dead set against the idea. Oscar says his position on the issue is not a matter of prejudice. He just doesn't think babies are very good guests.

"When was the last time," he said to me with a challenging look, "you heard a baby say something interesting?"

***

Daisy tells us that Britney Bitterman is still seeing her beau, Maxwell, even though he's still banished from the Bitterman homestead.

Apparently, Britney feels some kinship with Daisy since both had given birth around the same time. Whenever she sees Daisy around the Sack or at the local mall, she makes a point of bending Daisy's ear.

Britney says that Maxwell is very good with Baby Maybe. As evidence, she mentioned the new bicycle he has bestowed upon his son. Even though Baby Maybe won't be able to ride it for about five years, Britney assures Daisy that it's a "top of the line" bicycle.

Oscar said it wouldn't be helpful for us to know how Maxwell acquired the bicycle for Baby Maybe. He could be right about this.

At the same time, Britney also reports that Maxwell hasn't given her a "bloody red cent" since Baby Maybe was born. The problem, according to Britney, is that Cutlass Supreme Painting, Maxwell's fledgling business, continues to flounder.

***

When Weed replaced Daisy in the guest's chair, he provided us with a full update on the nefarious Maxwell. Weed, of course, is the Sack's official Maxwell correspondent.

Maxwell admitted to Weed that he has indeed been collecting refundable bottles and cans along a route that includes the Sack. Oscar, of course, recently saw Maxwell riding in a pickup truck that was purloining these items from the Sack's blue bags.

According to Maxwell, he was only doing a favour for his cousin, the owner of the pickup truck. He says his cousin is "best buds" with someone who's well acquainted with a man who's building a new apartment building in the old town. Cutlass Supreme Painting, according to Maxwell, is almost certainly going to win the painting contract for the place.

Somehow, I recall hearing this story before.

***

The biggest news from Maxwell concerns the actual 1991 Cutlass Supreme that lies at the heart of his business aspirations.

Maxwell reports that the illusive car has been sold to someone else.

The new buyer, of course, has no interest in selling the vehicle to Maxwell. Fortunately, the new buyer is also another one of his many cousins.

"I get first dibs whenever he does decide to sell it," he told Weed with pride.

Oscar says it would be hard to run across a more determined man than Maxwell. Strangely, he could be right about this.

***

Maxwell claims that it's very likely that he'll be buying a 1995 Plymouth Voyager sometime next week. And despite this purchase, he says he'll be sticking with Cutlass Supreme Painting as the company moniker "irregardless."

Weed says Maxwell has a very good reason for retaining the Cutlass Supreme name. Apparently, he still has about eight hundred business cards imprinted with this name. If he runs out of the cards before the 1991 Cutlass Supreme comes up for sale again, Maxwell says he'll change the business name then.

Maxwell admits that revenue has been slow. That's why new business cards just aren't in the budget right now. Besides, he claims the name, Cutlass Supreme Painting is already well known around the old town. It would be a monumental task to start telling people about Plymouth Voyager Painting instead.

People, Maxwell told Weed, would be confused if he changed the name now. He could be right about this.

***

Still, Maxwell's current business cards have brought him some good fortune, even though the company itself remains without a single dollar of revenue.

According to Weed, Maxwell likes to look for contests where one simply drops a business card in a bowl or box to enter. One is more likely to run across such contests at restaurants, bars and smaller retail places.

When Maxwell finds such a contest, he makes a point of stuffing the container with his cards. Apparently it's important to avoid putting in too many cards. Maxwell says the business will smell a rat if you do that.

If it sounds to you like Maxwell knows what he's talking about, then you're correct. Over the last six months, he has won three prizes.

***

If anyone is interested in a custom-made, leather bowling bag (candlepin version, of course) or a twenty-four pack of white tube socks, Weed says they should get in touch with Maxwell. Apparently, he is willing to give a lucky customer a very good deal.

Maxwell won both items in business card prize draws.

Weed promised him he would let people in the Sack know about the generous prices on the two items.

***

Maxwell decided to keep the third prize for himself. It was a coupon for a great feed of mussels at a local sports bar.

When he used the coupon, Maxwell found the mussels to be "mediocre, at best." According to Weed, Maxwell fancies himself as a bit of an expert on mussels sold at some of the old town's taverns and sports bars.

Apparently Maxwell worked on a mussel farm in the distant past. Weed wasn't sure exactly how long Maxwell worked there. He said it could have been six months, three months or even a few weeks. As usual, he said Maxwell was rather short on the specifics of the experience.

Nevertheless, the farm is where Maxwell developed his expertise on mussels.

***

If there are three things that Maxwell knows a lot about, it's painting, candlepin bowling and now, of course, mussels.

***

The most interesting thing to happen during the Oscarama edition of the show was the appearance of Rental Doug.

Generally, Sack people haven't had much direct contact with Rental Doug, despite the fact that he was last year's recipient of the DOTY Award. The DOTY, of course, is the Sack's Doug of the Year award.

Slowly, however, this has started to change. The kids from his blended family are now well integrated with other Sack kids. This has brought more interaction between Rental Doug, his spouse (Mrs. Rental Doug) and Sack parents.

Rental Doug, of course, had a reason for appearing on the show. He was there to promote a Sack street sale for next weekend. He wants to get as many people as possible to have a garage sale at the same time.

Weed, who was still present when Rental Doug appeared, said the street sale would be a golden opportunity for Maxwell to sell his bowling bag and tube socks.

***

All things considered, Rental Doug was a very pleasant fellow during the show. In honour of Oscarama, he even indulged in the drink. He chatted amicably and proved himself to be quite agreeable. There was no evidence at all that he has any connections to Satan.

Oscar, of course, believes that Rental Doug is Satan's man in the Sack. Later, I mentioned to him that it's unlikely that anyone with Satanic connections would be wasting his time on a ballroom dancing class. Rental Doug had told us during the show that he and his wife were beginning these classes next week.

Oscar gave me an impatient look and said, "That's exactly what he wants you to think."

***

Rental Doug left the show just as our next guest arrived. They were introduced to each other by Weed. The two men nodded at each other politely. Neither offered a hand to the other, so they didn't shake hands. It was an awkward moment.

The new guest was Jeff Christ.

Jeff only stayed for a few minutes. He had to work at Canadian Tire the next morning, so he didn't want to stay up too late.

***

Of course, when Jeff Christ went home, Oscar and Weed engaged in a raucous debate about the brief meeting between the young man and Rental Doug. Much ado was made about the absence of a handshake. Apparently, this is virtual proof that the men are rivals of epic proportion.

Little Doug quickly lost interest in the debate between Oscar and Weed. He told me that he was thinking seriously about taking Maxwell up on the deal for the white tube socks.

According to Little Doug, a man can never have too many white tube socks. He could be right about this.

***

Little Doug also started talking about ballroom dancing classes. He said his ex-wife had wanted them to do the same thing a few years before their marriage ended. Little Doug said he kept putting her off. Eventually, she didn't talk about it anymore.

The next thing he knew she was running off with someone she met on the Internet.

So Little Doug thinks it's a very good idea for Rental Doug to take ballroom dancing classes with Mrs. Rental Doug, even if he's related to Satan. Then he asked me what I thought about the matter.

I just told him he could be right about this, too.

***

Suburban Ballet

Oscarama is over.

That's Oscar's name for the week that includes his birthday. He says a single day is far too constraining for his particular celebratory needs.

During the course of the week, Oscar played golf, took an evening rampage through the old town's bar district, hosted one of our shows, went to a movie, drove around a high-speed go-kart track and ate two restaurant steaks.

For observational purposes, your agent joined him for several of these escapades. Somebody has to record this stuff for posterity.

It might as well be me.

***

Last Sunday afternoon, Florence, the Wonders' next-door neighbour, fell sideways into a coffin-size planter box in front of Little Doug's place. She needed help to extricate herself from a riotous mass of leafy, fully-grown perennials.

Earlier, a spontaneous pre-Labour Day party had erupted around the front stairs leading into Little Doug's house. Apparently, it started with Little Doug and Ben and then quickly grew into an eight-person gathering.

The Sack has always been more of a beer-drinking cul-de-sac, rather than a wine-drinking one. But at this particular gathering, everyone was drinking wine exclusively. Not a single pint of beer was consumed.

It was an impromptu wine party.

***

Even Jeff Christ was part of the unplanned event. Weed says the gathering marked the newcomer's "coming out party" in the Sack. He's also certain that Jeff had something to do with the wine phenomenon.

I remain doubtful about this.

***

Florence was at the gathering, of course, and drank too much wine.

Too much wine, in her case, is not very much at all. She says she only takes an alcoholic drink on rare occasions and even then, in great moderation.

So on Sunday, it only took two glasses of wine to knock Florence, as Big Doug likes to say, "arse over tea-kettle."

***

Florence was actually sitting on the ledge of the planter box during this end-of-summer gathering. When she tried to get up, she lost her balance completely.

She fell backwards into the planter box. Her knees were left hanging over its side. She was completely immoblilized. Ben and Little Doug actually had to pull her out.

When Florence lost her balance, one of her pink crocs disengaged from her foot and flew into the air. It almost hit Little Doug in the head.

***

Oscar, Weed and your agent witnessed Florence's tumble into the planter box. We had just returned from the go-kart track along with Oscar's thirteen-year-old, Dorian.

Oscar laughed very hard when Florence landed among the flowers. And he had very good reason for doing so, too.

It was a spectacular fall.

***

Oscar's sides were hurting from laughter after seeing it. He said he probably would've punctured a lung if the croc had struck Little Doug in the head.

As you can see, life in a cul-de-sac has the potential to be lethal.

***

While Oscar enjoyed his week-long birthday celebrations, he said the best part was seeing Florence fall into the planter box.

Of course, he didn't mean this in a hurtful way. He just meant that Florence's fall, if captured by an alert video camera, would have been a masterpiece of cinematography. Most gripping, he argued, would have been her eyes, as she realized that she hadn't come to a standing position when she rose from her seat. Captured in slow motion, Oscar said the blended look of surprise and horror on Florence's face could not be achieved by a mere actor.

The flying croc, Oscar pointed out, also gave the scene some subtext. Weed agreed. He said the croc was a powerful metaphor for the futility inherent in suburban conformity.

I think Sack people should stick with beer.

***

The Pleasures of Business

Oscar, two Dougs (Computer and Little) and I went golfing today.

None of us are particularly adept at the game. The best part of the outing, as Oscar says, is the breakfast meal we enjoy at a nearby restaurant when the round is over.

As usual, we only played nine holes of golf. Half of them took place through a steady drizzle. During the course of the morning, Oscar's three iron broke in half in the midst of a shot. Little Doug fell in a leaf-covered hole while searching for his ball. And Computer Doug left his putter on the eighth hole and had to go back for it.

Me? I only lost one ball during the round. But I found six balls. That gives me five more balls than when I started the day.

And that, my friends, is a successful round of golf.

***

Around the Sack, young Tremayne is renowned for his sharp entrepreneurial skill. In school fundraising circles, his name is spoken with a hushed tone. Hardly a week can pass during the school year without Tremayne at one's door. He's usually fundraising for a school trip or some other school-related activity.

Tremayne's expertise is centered mainly in the chocolate bar market. He counts the Wonders' home as one of his blue chip customers.

People are usually surprised to see Tremayne when they see him at their door. At six-years-old, he looks far too young to be engaged in commercial activity. But Tremayne is always quick to explain that he's working on behalf of his brother, Jimbo.

***

Jimbo is getting close to thirteen. He has been the most overweight Sack kid since anyone can remember.

Languid would be the best way to describe Jimbo. He seems to do just about everything slowly and with disinterest. Oscar says he has never seen anyone yawn as much as Jimbo. He could be right about this.

It's no surprise, then, that Jimbo would employ his younger brother to fulfill his school fundraising responsibilities. Tremayne is now his brother's unofficial vice-president of business operations.

Tremayne, of course, doesn't care much about titles. He's not even really interested in the money, either. And he's really not old enough to clearly understand the notion of charity.

For Tremayne, it's always about the chocolate.

***

For a six-year-old, Tremayne is also one of the most stylish of Sack kids.

No one is sure if his mother is responsible for his sense of style. Certainly his brother, Jimbo doesn't exhibit any particular flair in his appearance.

But everything Tremayne wears is co-ordinated and gives him a particular look. Oscar says the boy seems to have three very distinct styles. The first is simply known as the "li'l gangsta" look. This sometimes includes a blue plastic handgun that sits menacingly in the waistband of his baggy, low-riding little jeans.

The second look is neat and preppy. It sometimes includes a crisp white shirt and a navy-blue sweater vest. He looks like he just returned from tennis and drinks at a private country club.

And finally, there's his professional basketball player look. In Tremayne's case, this includes the complete home and away outfits of the Detroit Pistons and the New Jersey Nets. It also includes matching wrist and head bands.

***

From a business perspective, Tremayne's off-season is the summer time. There really isn't any product to move, unless, of course, one enters the sports-team fundraising game.

But Tremayne is a savvy operator. He knows that sports-team fundraising is strictly for amateurs. He's also aware that sports-team fundraisers rarely involve any chocolate.

And, of course, for Tremayne, it's always about the chocolate.

***

Saturday afternoon found a number of Sack kids cavorting in the street.

The kids looked like they could almost hear the first day of school approaching in the distance. There was a definite frenetic pace to their play. One could almost feel a sense of urgency in the air.

Of course, that's just the story I'm making up about them. Nobody really knows for sure what Sack kids are thinking about.

They're probably thinking about whatever they're doing right now, rather than next week.

I was really just trying to add depth to the story.

***

I drove slowly around the Sack's centre circle through the throng of kids. Almost all of them waved in greeting. A few kids even pretended to jog beside the car as an escort. We exchanged friendly banter back and forth.

I felt like a conquering hero returning to his homeland. Or at the very least, a conquering hero who's prone to exaggeration.

But maintaining good relations with Sack kids is important. I make it a point to say hello and do some friendly jesting whenever I can. I also keep my distance when they're doing kid things. I just want them to think of me as a positive adult who shows them some respect.

Oscar agrees that it's very important to get along with Sack kids. When they're in the midst of their adolescent years, he says good relations could make the difference between getting stabbed, beaten or robbed.

And besides, he says we'll need someone to go to the beer store for us when we're unable to do so, ourselves.

If pushed, Oscar will also admit that being a good role model is important, too.

***

The kids quickly resumed whatever activity they were engaged in as I moved slowly into my driveway. It looked like it was some form of hybrid game involving a basketball, the game of tag and a skipping rope. Or maybe all three were going on at the same time. I couldn't really tell for sure.

In my rearview mirror, I noticed Tremayne as he broke away from the other kids. He was looking around to make sure the other kids weren't paying attention to him. Satisfied, he started walking directly toward the Wonders' driveway.

Now, there was a bit of swagger in his walk. It looked like he had business on his mind.

***

And Tremayne did have business on his mind. He had chocolate business to discuss.

As I opened the car's hatchback to retrieve some groceries, Tremayne was at my side. He was in full basketball regalia. This time he was wearing his New Jersey Nets outfit with Jason Kidd's name prominent on the back. He was also wearing white knee socks that almost disappeared into his baggy little shorts.

"You go shoppin' today?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact," I replied, holding bags in each hand, "I did."

Tremayne looked at me with approval. Then a small, shy smile spread across his face.

"You didn't buy any of them fudgesicles, did ya?"

I gave him a theatrical grimace. "Sorry, man. I didn't buy any of those, today."

He made a modest effort to hide his disappointment. "I keep asking my mom to buy some. But she keeps forgettin'."

"That's a drag, eh?" I replied. He nodded his head in agreement.

***

Tremayne followed me as I walked up the front steps toward the door.

Suddenly, he said, "You think you might have some of them fudgesicles in the house?" He made it sound like he'd discovered a last-second solution to a problem that was deeply affecting both of us.

I contorted my face in thought for a few seconds.

Then I said, "Do you know what?"

"What?" said Tremayne anxiously.

"I think we do."

With all the reserve he could muster, Tremayne said, "Yesss!" But he said it very softly. Tremayne is always mindful of his own dignity, even when chocolate is at stake.

***

I retrieved a fudgesicle for Tremayne while he waited on the porch. Once it was in his hands, he expressed his gratitude politely. But his eyes never left the iced chocolate treat.

He walked down the driveway and moved discreetly away from the other Sack kids. He didn't want to attract their attention while he had a fudgesicle to deal with.

As he created some distance from the Sack's centre circle, he took the wrapper off and began to enjoy it. His walk slowly took on a rhythmic swagger. One of his white knee socks had fallen around his ankle, but he paid no attention to it.

He was on top of the world.

***

Later, I told Mrs. Wonders about my interaction with Tremayne. I thought she might find the story cute and amusing.

Instead she started laughing. It wasn't hard to figure out that she was laughing at me, rather than my episode with Tremayne.

It turns out that Tremayne received his third fudgesicle in the last week from the Wonders' residence on Saturday. Mrs. Wonders says the boy had appeared at the door twice in the previous four days. She says he has blamed his mother for forgetting about the treats on each occasion. Each time, Mrs. Wonders gave Tremayne a fudgesicle.

***

Of course, one can hardly harbour any ill-will toward Tremayne for his fudgesicle shenanigans.

It's good to see someone who is passionate about something, even if he's only a child. Having a passionate interest could be one of the most basic ingredients for a healthy life.

Tremayne's passion, of course, is the chocolate. It's always about the chocolate.

***