The Nutcracker

An important meeting to determine the 2008 winner of the Sack's Doug of the Year (DOTY) award was convened at Oscar's house today. This annual matter is always decided following his Boxing Day brunch.

Various amounts of champagne and orange juice are consumed by the judging panel during the deliberations. After furious and often inane debate, the DOTY winner is unanimously declared.

We'll tell you more about the outcome of the affair in our next posting. But first, here's a report about a Christmas Day encounter with Computer Doug.

***

It was Christmas Day in the Sack. The street was crowded with illegally parked cars. These belonged to friends and family of various Sack residents.

During mid-afternoon, your agent wandered outside to put some cardboard in the composting bin. It was a bright, sunny day, although there was a slight chill in the air. As if by request, the recent spate of horrid winter weather had dissipated in time for the holiday.

Returning from the side of the Wonders' house, I encountered Computer Doug as he walked out his front door. He was armed with his own supply of cardboard intended for the recycling bin.

Computer Doug was unshaven and he looked tired. His hair was wildly askew. He wore a faded baby-blue T-shirt and a pair of worn pajama bottoms. On his feet were his legendary bear-claw slippers.

In contrast, your agent was clad in a sleek, black turtleneck sweater and a stylish black toque. Both were Christmas gifts from Mrs. Wonders and the venerable Mr. Claus.

Computer Doug put his load of cardboard down and approached your agent for a chat.

***

We exchanged Christmas greetings and asked about each other's welfare. Computer Doug said his Christmas Day was unfolding as expected.

His two young boys had been up at the crack of dawn. Their living room now looked like the scene of a recent riot. The kitchen was awash in breakfast dishes and preparations for Christmas dinner. A small army of his wife, Marion's family was expected to arrive within the hour. Efforts to restore the house to order had just begun.

"Aside from that," said Computer Doug dryly, "everything is going great."

***

Computer Doug admired your agent's new garb. I told him it was the latest in casual wear for the man who puts out his garbage in style. He looked down at his own bedraggled appearance and chuckled.

"I don't think I'll get many points for style right now, eh?" he said with a smile.

"No," I replied, nodding at his pajama bottoms and bear-claw slippers, "I think you've still got last year's look."

Computer Doug shook his head and said, "That's the story of my life."

***

Computer Doug said he received some fine Christmas gifts this year. His best was a DVD boxed set of a favourite television show. He received it from his wife, Marion.

Marion also provided him with his oddest gift. It was a ninety-six-piece socket set. According to Computer Doug, it included sockets for both Imperial and metric measurements.

"That's impressive," your agent replied.

Computer Doug sighed and said, "I suppose so."

***

Computer Doug, of course, has no capacity for mechanical or home maintenance affairs. As an area of interest, such matters don't appear on his radar screen. He has as much use for a socket set as he would for a bad headache.

Despite this, Computer Doug acknowledged his gratitude for Marion's gift. On such occasions, he knew it was the thought that counted most. He did, however, express his opinion regarding her intentions behind the gift.

"I think she's trying to encourage me," he said flatly.

***

Rental Doug's new socket set came in its own attractive case. He said the whole package looks very impressive. At the risk of disturbing its orderly appearance, he had yet to remove it from the packaging.

Of course, there remains a good chance that Computer Doug's socket set will remain unopened. He said he had been trying to think of circumstances where he might make use of it. So far, nothing had come to mind.

At the same time, he wasn't too concerned about needing it. "A socket set is no good to you, if you don't own a socket wrench. I don't think Marion knows that."

***

Computer Doug had only recently obtained his own understanding of socket wrenches. He called Little Doug earlier in the day to discuss the matter. Little Doug, of course, performs almost all of Computer Doug's home maintenance. He fulfills the same role on Oscar's behalf. Your agent has also employed his generous skills on a few occasions.

Little Doug was happy to explain the purpose of a socket wrench. He also offered the use of his own socket wrenches, if the need arose. Apparently, Computer Doug had no idea about such things.

"I now have the capacity to loosen and tighten nuts and bolts," he said with authority.

Despite some deep thought, however, Computer Doug still couldn't imagine a single nut or bolt in his possession that required such attention.

"If you ever have any nut or bolt issues," he said kindly, "I'll be happy to loan you my socket set." I nodded my appreciation and said I would keep his offer in mind.

"But, if you do need it," he added, "you'll have to borrow a socket wrench from Little Doug."

I said I would keep that in mind, as well.

***

As we continued to chat in the pleasant sunshine, Marion's head suddenly appeared from behind their door. She asked her husband if he planned to stay outside for much longer. Their guests, she said politely, were less than forty minutes from their arrival for the Christmas festivities. Apparently, there was still of plenty of work to be done in the house.

Computer Doug said a quick apology to Marion and said he would be inside in just a few more seconds. When she disappeared back into the house, he returned to the subject of his new socket set.

"You know," he said in whispered voice, "if I had given her a new ironing board for Christmas, I'd never hear the end of it."

As he prepared to gather up his cardboard, Computer Doug looked at me and added, "I've made it through my entire life so far without owning a socket set."

Then he picked up his load of cardboard and shuffled off toward his compost bin.

And that, my friends, was the nuts and bolts of my Christmas Day conversation with Computer Doug.

***

Doug Shrugged

Oscar, Weed and your agent were ensconced at the local coffee cathedral.  It was late on a Sunday afternoon.

Our discussion roamed through a variety of topics.  Our favourite hockey teams are losing with alarming regularity. There wasn't much more to be said about that.  Then we had a brief, yet spirited discussion of the recent Canadian political crisis.  Oscar said it was the most significant thing to happen in Canada since Wayne Gretzky got married.

I remain doubtful about that.

Our conversation then wandered onto less significant topics. Somehow, Oscar and Weed became embroiled in a discussion about the expression, "I'd give you the shirt off my back."

Weed expressed his opposition to the literal image behind the phrase.  Aside from giving up his shirt for a bandage, he couldn't see why the practice would be necessary.

"If you're walking around without a shirt," he said with conviction, "why should I give you mine?  You should've put one on before you went out.  I mean, come on."

Oscar had a different view of the matter.  Although he might be a bit self-conscious about his man boobs at first, he was generally willing to give his shirt to anyone who had a good reason for needing it.  However, he did place a limitation on his generosity.  He said he would draw the line at giving up his shirt during the winter months.

"My shirt's not going to do a damn thing for you in the winter," Oscar declared. "You're still gonna freeze your butt off, so why bother?"

The conversation on this topic actually lasted for about ten minutes.  I think it's going to be a very long winter.

***

Little Doug is definitely a "give you the shirt off his back" kind of fellow.  He's always willing to help his fellow Sack residents.

Last week, Little Doug was at the Wonders' house.  He fixed your agent's refrigerator door.  The darn thing wouldn't close properly.  Now it closes with a satisfying thunk.  As he corrected the problem, Little Doug enlightened me about his latest trials and tribulations.  Everywhere he turns, it seems, he can't win for losing.

It began, of course, when Gordette, Gordon's new girlfriend, backed her car into the side of Little Doug's truck.  A significant amount of damage occurred.  This was followed by a verbal spat with Gordette.  There were also a few squabbles with the insurance company in trying to resolve the matter.

In the end, everything was sorted out.  However, Little Doug described the affair as a "royal pain in the butt."

***

Despite the run-in with Gordette, Little Doug did not allow the matter to get the best of him.  He gave credit for this to his new personal philosophy.  Apparently, it's proving to be very helpful in coping with his recent streak of bad luck.

Little Doug's new personal philosophy is captured by a single phrase.  He says it aloud to himself whenever he ends up on the wrong side of things.

The magic phrase, according to Little Doug, is "C'est la vie."

***

It seems unlikely that uttering a single French phrase can make a big difference when life goes awry.  However, Little Doug swears by it.  There must be some credence to his belief, since he has it used with some frequency lately.

Shortly after having his pick-up truck repaired, Little Doug was driving on a main road near the Sack.  Suddenly, he was summoned to the side of the road by one of the old town's peelers.  At the time, he said he was bewildered by the peeler's decision.  He wasn't speeding and he didn't believe that he had violated any rules of the road.

Unfortunately, the peeler had a very good reason for stopping Little Doug.  Apparently, his driver's license had expired about eight months ago.  Little Doug was completely unaware of this.

"I didn't get a reminder in the mail and I hadn't looked at my license in ages," he said with a look of innocence.  "I had no idea."

While the peeler seemed sympathetic to Little Doug's plight, it wasn't enough to avoid a costly ticket.  The fine amounted to two hundred and seventy-five dollars.  This didn't include the cost of renewing his license either.  In fact, when Little Doug attempted to renew it, he was informed of some outstanding parking tickets incurred by his daughter, Daisy. He couldn't renew the license unless he squared up the parking tickets, too.

In the end, the whole affair resulted in an unforeseen expenditure that was close to five hundred dollars. Thankfully, Little Doug had his new personal philosophy at the ready.

When I offered my sympathy in the matter, he simply smiled and said, "C'est la vie."

***

That wasn't the end of Little Doug's run of bad luck.

The next incident didn't cost him any money.  It had nothing to do with his pick-up truck or the old town's peelers. Instead, it was a matter of the heart.

Little Doug's first marriage ended about ten years ago.  His wife ran off with a man from the Internet.  He was from the great state of Maine.  They're married now and reside in the great state of Vermont.  According to Little Doug, the couple is doing just great.

Only in the last few years has Little Doug ventured into the world of dating.  Ironically, he has been utilizing the very same Internet to locate a suitable partner.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, I guess," he said optimistically.

Unfortunately, this strategy hasn't yielded any long-term success.  Little Doug's dating opportunities have been few and far between.  The unions that have materialized haven't worked out too well.  Thus far, his most notable relationship was with a woman named Marcella.  Sadly, he discovered that she had quite a crazy extended family.  Since Little Doug already has one of those himself, he didn't think it would be a good idea to take on another one.

Recently, however, Little Doug became acquainted with a woman named Amanda.  They corresponded via email for some time, before exchanging telephone numbers.  About six weeks ago, they started to see each other in person.

Little Doug said he felt a good deal of affection for Amanda.

***

While Little Doug and Amanda seemed to share similar interests and values, there was one very glaring difference between them.

Little Doug is rather short and stocky.  When he wears his one pair of good dress shoes, he says he's almost five feet, seven inches tall.  In his regular footwear, however, he's a few inches south of that measurement.

When clad in sensible, flat shoes, Amanda stands at six feet, two inches tall.

Weed, Little Doug's de facto son-in-law, was the only Sack resident to catch a glimpse of Amanda.  He saw her from the front door of Little Doug's place when she came to pick him up on a Saturday night.  He said he was quite impressed by her "Amazonian" appearance.

Much to Little Doug's chagrin, Weed thereafter referred to her as Amandazon.

***

The height difference was promptly acknowledged at the start of the dating relationship between Little Doug and Amanda.  Both felt it was an irrelevant detail in their growing attraction to each other.  

Little Doug said they even developed some humour about the matter.  Amanda's pet name for him was Tall Boy.  In response, he would call her Shorty.  In total, they saw each other for about five weeks.  Little Doug said things seemed to be going very well, indeed.  They had even talked about spending some time together at Christmas.  

The matter of the height difference seemed forgotten.

***

On the first Saturday in December, however, they went to a Christmas dance hosted by Amanda's employer.

Little Doug said their evening together was relatively pleasant.  He was a bit uncomfortable because he didn't know anyone at the affair.  Also, his feet were a bit sore on account of wearing his good dress shoes.  Nevertheless, he held the opinion that it was a successful evening.

After the dance, he spent the night at Amanda's place.

The next day, however, Amanda dropped a bombshell on him.  She said their height difference was becoming a matter of concern for her.  Apparently, it had been further illuminated at the dance.  She wouldn't elaborate on this, but Little Doug figured that her co-workers might've joked about the contrast in their height during the slow dances.

According to Little Doug, his face was generally aligned with Amanda's chest when they engaged in a slow dance.

***

As a result of her concerns, Amanda said she didn't think a relationship with Little Doug would be possible.  She definitely wanted to remain friends, but she needed some time to think about the matter.

She said she would call him some time in January.

Little Doug admits that Amanda's decision has been difficult to accept.  He thought the height issue had been "put to bed" at the very beginning.  More important, he was upset that she might've been influenced by the perceptions of others.

"I don't care what other people think," said Little Doug forcefully, "and I thought she didn't care about that either."

I offered Little Doug my condolences in the matter.  I said it was too bad that things didn't work out.  It was also clear that he was due for a change in fortunes.

Little Doug nodded his agreement and then shrugged.  "Well, what are you gonna do. . . . the only thing I can say is c'est la vie."

***

Yesterday afternoon, Oscar and Computer Doug were chatting on Oscar's driveway.  

The pair has been spending a lot of time together lately. This is because Computer Doug is unemployed.  Oscar, of course, works from his home.  However, his workload closely resembles that of an unemployed person.  As a result, both have time on their hands.

Your agent cruised into the Sack at this moment.  I was returning from the local shopping emporium.  Removing some bags from the car, I strolled over to Oscar's driveway.

"Where have you been?" asked Oscar.

I glanced at the bags in my hand.  "The mall.  I was doing my Christmas shoplifting."

Oscar nodded, but Computer Doug gave me a startled look.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly.  Computer Doug looked only mildly relieved.

"What about you guys?" your agent asked.  "What're you up to?"

"Waiting for Little Doug," Oscar replied.  "We're going to Home Depot."

According to Oscar, Little Doug is going to make some repairs at their respective houses over the holiday season. Computer Doug needed some plumbing materials, while Oscar was in the market for a new toilet.  Little Doug would make sure they bought the appropriate items needed to perform the two jobs.

Glancing over at Little Doug's house, I noticed that his pick-up truck was gone.  "So, where is he?" I asked.

"Weed took him downtown to get his truck.  He left it there last night after his work Christmas party.  He took a cab home."

I wondered for a moment whether Amanda might've had a change of heart.  "Did he go to the party with someone?" I asked.

Oscar shook his head.  "Nope.  He went by himself.  He got dumped by Amandazon, eh."

"I know," your agent replied.

***

A few minutes later, Little Doug motored into the Sack.  He pulled into his driveway and then climbed slowly out of his truck.  He walked toward us with his hands in his pockets and a dejected look on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Oscar.

Little Doug shook his head and jerked a thumb back at his truck.  "Follow me," he said in a low tone.

We trailed behind as he led us to the passenger side of his truck.  There was a long, thin scratch running from the rear tail light up to the passenger door.  At that point, a large V-shaped scratch covered most of the door.  Another long, narrow scratch then continued from the door to the front headlight.

"Somebody keyed my truck," he said quietly.

***

Apparently, Little Doug had parked his truck overnight on a downtown residential street.  About seven other cars received the same type of damage.  He said it must've happened in the middle of the night.  The peelers were called about the matter, but the chances of catching the offender seemed unlikely.

We commiserated with Little Doug for a few minutes.  Oscar ranted about increasing vandalism in this day and age. Computer Doug recounted a story about the same experience a few years ago.

Your agent took a closer look at the shape etched on Little Doug's passenger door.  It really was a nasty V-shaped scratch. 

"Hey," I said suddenly, catching Little Doug's attention.  "Does this remind you of anything?"

He looked at the scratch for a few seconds and then shrugged.  I ran my finger along the outline of it and said, "C'est la vee!"

For the first time that day, Little Doug laughed.

***

Next:  The Doug of the Year (DOTY) award. . . . 

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all who wander through the Sack via Cul de Sac Blues!

Snow Follies

A few weekends ago, the Sack awoke to about thirty-five centimeters of snow.  Quite suddenly, autumn had given way to winter.

Your agent awoke on that Saturday morning at about six-thirty.  I was stirred by a distant scraping sound.  

Rising to the bedroom window, I gazed out upon the Sack. It was eerily quiet.  Under the soft glare of the streetlights, the neighbourhood seemed covered in soft, white satin.  The trees were heavy with snow.  Even the exposed trunks were layered in white. It was a beautiful sight, indeed.

The distant scraping was suddenly audible again.

Scanning across the street, I spied movement on Big Doug's driveway.  He was putting the finishing touches on his first snow-shoveling job of the year.  A straight snow bank lined each side of his driveway.  The cleared asphalt was almost bereft of snow.  His prized pickup truck had also been swept clean.

Did I mention it was only six-thirty in the morning?

Despite his pristine driveway, Big Doug wouldn't be able to drive anywhere.  There was still thirty-five centimeters of snow covering the rest of the Sack.  The snowplows wouldn't dig us out until late in the afternoon.  None of this, of course, likely bothered him.

Big Doug was in shoveling heaven, man.

***

The arrival of snow seemed to awaken an early Christmas spirit in some residents.  The first seasonal adornments materialized on the street within days of that first snowfall. On the Sunday, Ben was observed storing a freshly cut Christmas tree in his garage.  The next day, it appeared undecorated in his front window.  By the end of the week, it was fully dressed for the season.

Gordon is almost always the first Sack resident to decorate the exterior of his home.  For him, this is a very serious business.  To the grand amazement of everyone, however, he was beaten to the punch this year.  His comeuppance came from a very unlikely source.

Dirk and Dora, the denizens of Burning Manor, were first to decorate their home for Christmas.

***

Dirk was responsible for the decorations.  He strung a line of Christmas lights in a partial framing of Burning Manor's front porch. The lights were green.

On the snow-covered lawn, however, Dirk erected something quite extraordinary.  He placed a large, inflatable snow globe adjacent to the driveway.  There was a smiling snowman inside it.  When the whole business was activated, a flurry of artificial snow swirled around the snowman.  At night, the globe was backlit.

It was quite a sight.

Sack observers have been confounded by this sudden expression of holiday spirit at Burning Manor.  In the past, the only holiday spirit there seemed to be the liquid variety.  

Dora, in particular, seemed enthralled by the inflatable snow globe. Oscar says he saw her standing outside on consecutive evenings, simply staring at it.  She was mesmerized by the thing.

Oscar says she was probably stoned.  He could be right about this.

***

When the next weekend arrived, Gordon roared into action. He spent his entire Saturday beautifying his home with all manner of decorations.

The lighting scheme alone took most of his time.  At night, his house now illuminates most of the Sack's centre circle. Oscar says the place looks like a casino.  He could be right about this, too.

Gordon also made liberal use of wreaths and boughs.  His porch and doorway are covered with both items.  There's also a large plastic Santa Claus face on the wall above his garage.  A strategically placed spotlight gives it prominence at night.

As usual, Gordon has also erected a pair of mechanical reindeer on his lawn. They're made of thick white wire. Small white lights provide an outline of the animals.  At short intervals, the reindeers' heads bow and then slowly rise in the air.  This makes it look like they're grazing in the snow.

Gordon puts the reindeer out every year.  As always, Oscar will make a clandestine attempt to reposition them. Ultimately, one reindeer will appear to be sniffing the other's behind.

***

Young Doo took advantage of the sudden abundance of snow.  A hefty mountain of the stuff was piled in the Sack's centre circle, courtesy of the old town's snowplow brigade. That's where Doo decided to build a snowman.

The boy toiled over his creation for two solid days.  At times, other Sack kids joined him.  It was clear, however, that Doo was the project's foreman.  He built the snowman at the highest point of the snow mountain.  When the job was completed, his creation towered over the street like a religious statue.

Every time Oscar walked past it, he crossed himself.

***

Your agent was in the midst of shoveling the Wonders' driveway, while Doo was in the early stages of creating the snowman.  Rest assured, this was many hours after six-thirty in the morning.

In need of some respite, I crossed the street to the Sack's centre circle.  I decided to exchange pleasantries with the boy.  Oscar says it's a good idea to maintain good relations with Sack kids.  This way, they won't steal from us when we're old and lacking in agility.

After polite greetings, Doo told me all about his plans for the snowman.  He said it would quite likely be the world's biggest.  As he described his intentions, a thin line of mucus seeped from his left nostril.  

Given the wintry atmosphere, I asked him what he wanted for Christmas this year.  That's when the following conversation ensued:

Doo:  "I wanna Wii"

Me:  "You wanna what?"

Doo:  "A Wii."

Me:  "A wee what?"

Doo:  "A Wii.  I wanna Wii."

Me:  "You want a wee."

Doo:  "Yeah."

Me:  "What's a wee?

Doo:  "It's a game console."

Me:  "Right.  A Wii."

Doo:  "Yeah."

Me:  "Why do you want a Wii?"

Doo:  "Because. . . . it's fun."

***

Dirk's inflatable snow globe, Gordon's festive house and Ben's Christmas tree certainly gave the Sack some early holiday flair.

Doo's snowman, of course, only added to this slice of suburban life. However, it was shaped in a rather unusual fashion.  Rather than being a roly-poly snowman, his creation was tall and lean.  The lad had certainly focused his attention on height rather than girth.  It looked more like an obelisk. 

Nevertheless, it certainly contributed to the Sack's newfound cheeriness.

***

Naturally, this state of affairs wouldn't last.

This week, the old town received several days of persistent rain, strong wind and dense fog.  The temperature rose dramatically.  At one point, it was fifteen degrees outside. That's almost sixty degrees Fahrenheit.

It didn't take long for the heavy coating of snow to disappear.  Only a small pile of it remained in the Sack's centre circle, along with the remnants of Doo's snowman. Everything else was wet, damp and dreary.

On Wednesday evening, your agent and Oscar strolled over to the local coffee cathedral.  Oscar had maple sugar donuts on his mind. Upon our return, we walked through the Sack. It didn't take long to realize that the neighbourhood's early Christmas spirit had dissipated.

***

The Christmas tree in Ben's front window was mysteriously absent. Later, we would hear from Norma about the matter. Apparently, their cat had knocked it over earlier that day. When we walked past their house, they hadn't been home to discover it yet.

Gordon's house was still shining brightly.  However, something was amiss with one of his reindeer.  It had nothing to do with butt sniffing, either.  Instead, it appeared to be malfunctioning.  Rather than moving its head in a grazing fashion, the reindeer was nodding in a quick, repetitive manner.

"Don't look now," said Oscar, with a hint of concern in his voice, "but I think one of Gordon's reindeer is having a seizure."

***

At Burning Manor, the surprising holiday spirit was clearly deflated.

The inflatable snow globe on its front lawn was collapsed in a disjointed, wet heap.  A torn piece of plastic was flapping in the wind.  The happy snowman was partially visible in the carnage.  It looked like it had been run over by a truck.  The recent wind and driving rain was likely to blame. 

Dirk's green Christmas lights had also become dislodged from the porch roof.  A line of lights drooped lazily in front of the entryway.  They haven't been lit for days now.

After the heavy rain, Burning Manor's lawn was a muddy mess. With the almost unrecognizable snow globe in its midst, there was little evidence of Christmas cheer.  

Instead, Oscar said it looked like a paratrooper had recently landed in the midst of a war zone.  

***

Doo's obelisk-like snowman had also suffered from the rain and mild temperatures. 

When first constructed atop the snow mountain, it stood almost as high as the trees in the Sack's centre circle.  Now, it had been brought down to earth.  While the snowman still maintained its lean proportions, it had melted in a most unfortunate fashion.

It resembled a phallic symbol more than a snowman.

***

Gordon has yet to tend to his epileptic reindeer.  It could be that he hasn't noticed yet.  For comedic purposes, no one is likely to mention it to him, either.

The grisly remnants of Dirk's snow globe remains on the lawn of Burning Manor.  Apparently, Dirk has returned to his job on an oil rig and won't be home until shortly before Christmas.  No one expects Dora to do anything about the matter.  She certainly hasn't been spotted outside staring at it.

Thankfully, the sight of young Doo's snowy phallic symbol is no longer welcoming Sack residents to the neighbourhood. Yesterday, he was observed taking matters into his own hands.  Armed with a hockey stick, he destroyed it with a series of vicious chops.  By the end of the day, all traces of its existence were gone.

Oscar says it looked like Doo took more pleasure from the destruction of the snowman, than from the building of it.  He could be right about this.

***

It's now only about three weeks until Christmas. That's plenty of time for the Sack to rekindle its holiday spirit. Already, there seems to be some evidence of this.

Yesterday, Big Doug erected some Christmas lights on the front of his house.  He hasn't done this for a few years. Your agent wandered over to his place, while he was in the midst of this task.

Although he tends to be a bit on the gruff side, Big Doug seemed surprisingly cheerful.  After chatting amiably for a few moments, he asked if I had heard the latest weather report.

"Nope," I replied.  

"Big storm coming tomorrow," said Big Doug.  "Could be rain.  Could be snow.  It's too soon to tell."

"Well, let's hope for some rain, eh?" your agent said hopefully.

Big Doug grunted and looked into the sky as if assessing the possibilities.  Finally, he said, "Snow's a pain in the arse, but I wouldn't mind it if we got some."

"Really?" I replied.  "How so?"

Big Doug gazed around the Sack for a second and said, "Take a look around. . . we could use a little Christmas spirit around here."

He could be right about this.

*** 

Profit Taking

Rental Doug's former Sack abode remains empty.  A "For Rent" sign sits prominently on the front lawn.  With numerous vacancies at Serenity Terrace, the rental development next to the Sack, it could be some time before we gain a new neighbour.

Oscar finds this state of affairs to be immensely frustrating. It has been several years since we enjoyed the privilege of bestowing a new moniker on an incoming Sack resident. He says this is one of his favourite aspects of living here.

Weed continues to ruminate on the loss of Rental Doug. Although it's highly improbable, he remains hopeful that an incoming new resident will have the same name.  He says it's essential for the Sack's Doug population to be replenished.

"I don't care if the new guy's name is Bob, Sergio or Guptil," said Weed, "we absolutely have to call him Replacement Doug."

*** 

In the lives of Sack residents, there are clear signs of the slowing economy.  Nevertheless, there is also good reason for optimism.  In the midst of job losses and a declining real estate market, one can still find evidence of industry and creativity.

Last week, your agent completed some business in the downtown quarter.  As the weather was inclement, I hailed a cab.  After settling into the back seat, I informed the driver of my destination in the Sack.  He adjusted his rear view mirror and gazed back at me.  "I think I know where that is," he said with a smile.

The cab driver was Doo's stepdad, Sticky.

***

Sticky has a low profile in the Sack.  As a bus driver with the old town's transit authority, he puts in a lot of overtime.  He also works a lot of split shifts.  It's rare to see him at home in the Sack.

According to Sticky, the old town has placed a cap on overtime.  This has reduced his weekly earnings.  By driving a cab in his spare hours, he could more than make up the difference.

"Man, that's a lot of driving," I said sympathetically.

"Ah, yup," he replied.  That's what Sticky says when he means, "yes."

***

Sticky explained that he could probably manage without driving the cab.  However, he and Doo's mom are planning a vacation in early April.  They're going to Cuba for a couple of weeks.  To enhance their savings, Doo's mom is also making a substantial sacrifice.  She's giving up Tuesday Night Bingo until next summer.

Sadly, young Doo will not be accompanying his parents to Cuba.  He'll stay at his grandmother's house for the duration of their trip.  Sticky said they don't want the boy to miss any time away from school.

"I'll bet he's not happy about that," I said.

"Ah, yup," said Sticky.

***

Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell is no longer peddling pot from the porch of the Bitterman residence.  Apparently, his inventory has been exhausted.

While most observers would consider this to be a despicable business, Maxwell claims that it was merely a temporary and well-intentioned enterprise.  He explained this to Oscar and your agent during a recent discussion at the local coffee cathedral.

According to Maxwell, he received a quantity of marijuana from one of his legions of cousins.  It arrived in lieu of an outstanding financial debt.  This unexpected development caused him to consider his options.

"I could've either smoked my brains out," said Maxwell with a thoughtful look, "or I could do something good for my family."  That's how he decided to peddle the pot from the porch.

Still, Maxwell was apologetic about using the Bitterman residence as his storefront.  Unfortunately, without any means of transportation, he said he really had no choice in the matter.  In fact, the whole point of the enterprise was really about transportation.  He said the profits would be used to fund repairs to his 1993 Cutlass Supreme.  The vehicle, of course, has been parked in the Bitterman's driveway for some time.  It requires a new doohickey of some kind before it can be operable again.

Maxwell said the new doohickey has been ordered from Canadian Tire.  He expects the car and his illustrious company, Cutlass Supreme Painting to be back in action within the next week.  

The completed repairs can't come a moment too soon, either. Maxwell says he has "tons" of interior painting gigs lined up between now and "probably April."  In fact, he's already thinking about how he might spend some of the profits.

"Yeah," said Maxwell, as he picked at his maple sugar donut, "I'm thinkin' that me and Britney might take a trip next April."

"Oh, yeah?" replied your agent.  "Where're you guys gonna go?"

"I don't know yet," he said casually, "I'm thinkin' maybe Cuba."

*** 

Doo's stepdad, Sticky and Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell are certainly making an effort to keep the local economy cooking.  The same could be said about Tremayne, another Sack resident.

Tremayne, of course, is the Sack's primary pusher of fundraising chocolate bars.  He's nine years old.  Already, he has three years of experience under his belt.  If there was a Golden Circle for chocolate bar sellers, Tremayne would be a three-time winner.

Of course, it's uncertain whether any of Tremayne's causes have ever actually seen the money he collects.  When asked about the purpose of the fundraising, he's rather vague about the matter.  Sometimes, he just says the money is for his brother, Jimbo's school.  That's about as much as he can tell you.

One might also wonder about how many chocolate bars end up in Tremayne's mouth.  After selling a bar to your agent, he'll often return the next day.  He'll ask if I have any chocolate to spare.

***

A few weeks ago, the Wonders' doorbell rang.  It was about four-thirty in the afternoon.

When your agent opened the door, Tremayne stood boldly on the porch.  He nodded a greeting and held up his bag of chocolate bars.  He opened it only a few inches, enticing me to look at its contents.

"You wanna buy some chocolate bars?" he asked quietly.  

Tremayne usually offers me a quantity of bars first.  Then he allows me to negotiate down to a single one.  It's a very effective strategy.

"How much?" your agent replied.

"Three-fifty," answered Tremayne.

***

Two years ago, Tremayne's chocolate bars sold for two dollars.  Last year, the price rose to three dollars.  These price increases, I told him, were becoming ridiculous. Tremayne simply shrugged.

"So what are you raising money for this time," I asked.  Tremayne shrugged again and said, "School."

"Whose school?" I replied.

"Mine."

"And what's the money for?"

"My class," said Tremayne.  "We're goin' somewhere else to do something."

I paused for a moment and said, "That sounds like a lot of fun."

Tremayne nodded with disinterest.  Then he asked, "So, how many do you want?"

***

I bought only one chocolate bar from Tremayne.  Belt-tightening, after all, has to start somewhere.

About an hour later, the doorbell rang again.  I couldn't believe that Tremayne would be back so soon looking for chocolate.  This time, however, an adolescent girl stood on the porch.  She looked to be about fourteen years old.  

Like Tremayne, the girl was selling fundraising chocolate bars.  Apparently, her cheerleading team was planning a trip to the great state of New Hampshire.

***

I bought another chocolate bar from the teenage girl.  It's good to have a back-up bar for when Tremayne returns to the door.  Interestingly, the girl's chocolate bars were only two dollars.  

They were exactly the same as the ones Tremayne was peddling.

***

Tremayne has yet to arrive at the Wonders' door looking for chocolate.  Whenever he does appear, he'll have some explaining to do.  I have no doubt that he'll have a reasonable response for the price discrepancy.

Of course, it could be that the chocolate bar price varies at the fundraiser's discretion.  Maybe Tremayne needs a new doohickey for his bike.  Or perhaps, he's planning his own trip to Cuba.    

Either way, one thing is very clear.  If you asked whether Tremayne will make it through the coming recession, I would have only one response.

Ah, yup.

***

Dollar Daze

Big Doug is back in no-man's land. The lawn care season has ended, but snow has yet to fall. His shovels line the wall of his garage like soldiers awaiting orders.  There is nothing for him to do.

Rather than any fervent desire for snow, Big Doug's strong work ethic lies at the heart of the matter. With his hands rendered idle, he becomes irritable and distracted. He can putter around with some make-work projects, but nothing seems to bring any satisfaction. He needs work that has meaning and purpose.

Lawn care and snow shoveling share an important characteristic. It's work that must be done. This is what drives Big Doug's engine. In spring, his lawn must be coaxed back to a green, robust state. Then it must be maintained throughout the summer and early fall. This requires effort, consistency and patience.

Snow on Big Doug's driveway requires a different kind of attention. It must be removed with diligence and expedience. With the frequency of nor'easters in the old town's neck of the woods, Big Doug's shovels remain occupied throughout winter and most of spring.

In between grass and snow, however, lies a cavernous black hole. This is why, for Big Doug, November is the cruelest month.

***

Signs of an emerging economic slowdown have already appeared in the Sack. 

Your agent and Oscar took a stroll to the local coffee cathedral last week. It was a Wednesday morning. Your agent had taken a rare day off work. Oscar, of course, needed no such excuse. He works from home. 

As we entered the establishment, Oscar elbowed me in the side and pointed. Computer Doug was sitting at a corner table.  The old town's newspaper, The Chronically Horrid was spread in front of him. A cup of coffee and the remains of a maple sugar doughnut were at his elbow. 

After acquiring our own supply of java, we joined him at his table. It didn't take long to learn why Computer Doug was at the local coffee cathedral in the midst of a workday.  When Oscar asked about his welfare, he grinned sheepishly and said, "Well, I'm unemployed again."

***

Several years ago, Computer Doug lost his job.  The company he worked for, in his words, "went tits up."

At the time, Computer Doug was unfamiliar with unemployment.  Beyond looking for another job, he didn't know what to do with himself.  Thankfully, Oscar was able to take him under his wing.  He gave him a crash course on how to enjoy idleness.  This is an area where Oscar holds considerable expertise.

Eventually, however, Computer Doug found another job. Everything was going swimmingly until the previous Monday.  When he arrived at work, he was greeted with some very bad news.

"The company," said Computer Doug, after swallowing the last of his maple sugar donut, "has gone tits up."

***

Computer Doug said he's a bit worried that he has worked for two consecutive companies that have gone tits up.  He said he's starting to get a complex about the matter.

"I think I've got the Midas touch," he said evenly, "except in reverse."

Despite the job loss, Computer Doug wasn't too worried about the future.  He'll get some unemployment insurance money for a considerable period.  His wife, Marion earns a decent wage, so they'll be able to manage their bills.  He also has some information about another opportunity that might be worth investigating.

Computer Doug says his fingers are crossed.

*** 

Rental Doug and his blended family had to move from the Sack last September.  The house they were renting was placed on the real estate market.

The owner was hoping for a quick sale.  Without any offers coming in, the asking price dropped twice.  But still, no one seemed interested in buying it.  Last week, the house was taken off the market.  A "For Rent" sign now stands on the front lawn.

Rental Doug and his blended family could have been living there still.

***

But they're not living there anymore.  Rental Doug and his blended family purchased their own home.  They won't be coming back to the Sack.

Weed frequently bemoans the loss of Rental Doug.  He says it cuts the Sack's Doug population by twenty-five percent.  "That's a quarter of the Dougs, man," he says with frustration.

Oscar, however, says he's glad to see the back of Rental Doug.  This should be no surprise to Sack observers.  Oscar thinks Rental Doug has some kind of nefarious connection to Satan.  Apparently, he was placed in the Sack in an undercover role.  When "all hell breaks loose" in the world, Rental Doug was supposed to show his true colours.

Oscar says the whole matter is covered rather nicely in the Book of Revelations.  I have no idea about such things.

***

The declining economy has also affected another Sack resident.  A few days ago, Oscar stormed through the Wonders' front door.  He was bursting with newly gleaned information.  He said it was garnered directly from the horse's mouth.

"Jeff Christ," he said breathlessly, "is moving out west."

***

Jeff Christ has been gainfully employed at a local call centre for several years.  He enjoyed a meteoric rise to the rank of team leader.  According to Weed, who works at the same call centre in a junior position, Jeff's colleagues and subordinates regard him as a very fine fellow. 

Nevertheless, call centre supremacy isn't Jeff Christ's calling.  At least, that's how he explained it to Oscar when they encountered each other at the local coffee cathedral.

Jeff said his passion for the call centre game dropped dramatically during the last year.  He didn't see much possibility for further advancement.  Also, his salary was rather paltry for the amount of work that he did.

In the end, he decided that he wanted to pursue his real passion.  Apparently, he wants to go back to school to become a teacher.  He hopes to gain acceptance for next September.  In the meantime, Jeff said he needs to save more money.  His salary at the call centre wasn't going to be enough.

Besides, he has a strong feeling that there will be layoffs at the call centre very soon.

***

In order to earn more money, Jeff Christ is going to Alberta in January.  He has a job lined up in the oil sands industry. He'll make three times the amount he was paid at the call centre.  

Although he was hopeful of returning to the Sack in September, Jeff Christ said he was unsure whether everything would come together that way.  He said he would go to whatever university accepted him.  If one of the old town's schools didn't accept his application, he wouldn't be back.

Jeff said he would likely keep working in Alberta, if he doesn't gain entrance to a school next September.  This way he would have maximum savings when acceptance finally came.

***

Jeff Christ's impending departure was a significant topic when Weed joined us later at the local coffee cathedral. Oscar said he wasn't entirely surprised about Jeff's decision.  "I knew this was coming as soon as Rental Doug moved away."

According to Oscar, Jeff Christ is leaving the Sack because "his work here is done."  Under his theory, the young man's presence was directly connected to the existence of Rental Doug.  Apparently, Jeff was living here only to keep an eye on the man.

Now that Satan's agent in the Sack has departed, Jeff Christ's services are needed elsewhere.

***

In your agent's opinion, Oscar's explanation was preposterous.  Rental Doug remains in the local area.  Who would be keeping an eye on him now?

Oscar thought about this for a moment and then replied, "I don't know.  That's God's problem now, not ours."

Weed, however, had his own theory about the matter.  He said the departure of both men was a very dire sign.  With the economic meltdown, constant war and rapid climate change, he said it was no surprise that both would leave the Sack.

"Things must be so bad," he said thoughtfully, "that both God and the Devil are getting out while they can."

***

Computer Doug's job loss, the failure to sell Rental Doug's former home and Jeff Christ's departure could be evidence of the declining economy.  These could also be normal events that occur in the lives of cul-de-sac people.

I have no idea about such things.

Of course, it will still be very sad to see Jeff Christ leave the Sack.  He is, of course, a very fine fellow.  Hopefully, he will come back in September.  

It was also unfortunate to see Rental Doug and his blended family move away.  They were well regarded by other Sack residents.

Of the two departures, however, it's Jeff Christ's that remains in your agent's mind most.  Every time I think about it, my thoughts converge on the same phrase.

Jeff Christ hath forsaken us.

***