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.

***

The Green Grass of Home

Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell is the best interior painter east of Montreal.  Rather modestly, he'll tell you that he's not the only one aware of this fact.  

"Most people," he'll say impassively, "would tell you that right away."

Sadly, Maxwell has never been anywhere near Montreal. Other than attending a candlepin bowling tournament in the great state of Maine, he has yet to venture anywhere outside of our fair province. This makes it difficult to measure his interior painting prowess in the larger world.  

Nevertheless, some Sack residents are hopeful that some day, Maxwell will take his extraordinary painting skills to a great metropolis like Toronto or Vancouver.  He could, they say, take the interior painting world by storm.

Of course, such success would probably force him to leave the Sack permanently.  As Oscar likes to say, this would be a "win-win" situation for everyone concerned.

***

So far, Cutlass Supreme Painting has survived the recent economic downturn.  Its earnings haven't declined by a single cent.  Credit for this achievement can only be extended to Maxwell, the company's owner, sole employee and Chief Executive Officer.

The company's revenues, after all, have been remarkably stable throughout its existence.  In fact, Cutlass Supreme Painting has earned exactly the same amount each year.

The precise figure is:  Zero dollars and zero cents.

***

Given his talents for interior painting, one can only wonder why Maxwell hasn't been able to lead Cutlass Supreme Painting to economic success.

Maxwell, however, will be quick to tell you that his fortunes have been severely hampered by bad luck.  On numerous occasions, he says the company has been on the verge of acquiring a "primo" painting gig, only to see the deal fall apart at the last minute.

Last September, Maxwell proclaimed that Cutlass Supreme Painting was on the cusp of a painting gig with the old town's venerable cable company.  Apparently, they had almost completed construction of a new corporate office and required the services of a professional painting company.

Maxwell said the gig would've resulted in "major coin" for Cutlass Supreme Painting.

***

The deal between the cable company and Cutlass Supreme Painting had been negotiated at the highest levels of corporate power. According to Maxwell, he established the gig during direct talks with the CEO of the cable company.

Sack residents, of course, were immediately doubtful about this. How does a character like Maxwell, with his Montreal Canadiens tracksuit, a perpetual five o'clock shadow and a host of missing teeth, gain access to the pinstriped corridors of the corporate elite? More important, why would the CEO be involved in the negotiation of a measly interior painting contract?

The answers to these questions, of course, were quite simple. Maxwell claimed that he met the CEO at the local self-serve car wash on a sunny Saturday afternoon.  

According to Maxwell, the cable company CEO was washing his "Beemer" at the time.

***

The CEO's name was Jim.  He had just completed a season-ending golf game when he decided to wash his car. Maxwell, who lacks a functioning vehicle, didn't say what caused him to be at the car wash at the time.

Either way, Maxwell struck a conversation with Jim that focused on his admiration for the Beemer.  It didn't take long for them to discover some common ground.  Both were at the helm of their respective companies.

The conversation ended with Jim eagerly accepting one of Maxwell's Cutlass Supreme Painting business cards. Regretfully, Jim didn't have any of his own cards to exchange.  Apparently, his business cards were languishing in the pocket of his other pants.  

Nevertheless, Jim vowed that his people would most certainly contact Cutlass Supreme Painting about their interior painting needs at their earliest opportunity.

***

The following week passed without a call from the cable company.  When the next week began, Maxwell was certain that his cell phone would ring and Cutlass Supreme Painting would assume its rightful place in the forefront of the interior painting game.

Unfortunately, calamity once again struck the company's fortunes.  Maxwell inadvertently dropped his cell phone into a toilet.  This occurred at the Bitterman residence.

The phone was submerged for several minutes.  Maxwell was unaware of this.  Apparently, he was brushing his remaining teeth at the time.  By the time he noticed it, the phone had been rendered inoperable.

***

There can be no doubt that the cable company called immediately following the unfortunate accident.  And Maxwell didn't have voice mail, either.  This is exactly the kind of bad luck one has grown to expect with Cutlass Supreme Painting.

It took Maxwell more than a month before he could amass sufficient funds to get a replacement phone.  By that time, of course, the cable company's interior painting needs had likely been met. 

Maxwell says the work was likely competed by "a bunch of hacks."

***

Even if the unfortunate toilet affair hadn't occurred, Sack residents remain doubtful that Cutlass Supreme Painting could have met the needs of the local cable outfit.

The company's namesake, a battered 1993 Cutlass Supreme has been inoperable for a considerable period.  The vehicle is supposed to transport Maxwell's painting gear, including a borrowed sixteen-foot ladder.

Much to the chagrin of his father-in-law, Mr. Bitterman, the 1993 Cutlass Supreme remains inert on the driveway. Occasionally, Maxwell spends an afternoon tinkering under the vehicle's hood, but nothing seems to make a difference.

According to Weed, the 1993 Cutlass Supreme needs a new doohickey of some kind in order to hit the road again.  The cost of the doohickey remains far beyond Maxwell's current resources.  Apparently, he even approached Mr. Bitterman about funding the repair.  He was rebuked immediately.

Oscar says Mr. Bitterman told him there would be "a hockey game in hell" before Maxwell would see a single loonie from his pocket.

***

Another potential barrier for Cutlass Supreme Painting is the state of Maxwell's painting shoulder.

While performing a "Look ma, no hands!" routine on the back of a garbage truck last year, Maxwell tumbled to the ground.  A bum shoulder has been the lasting legacy of the matter.

At the time, Maxwell was gainfully employed as a waste management professional.  Despite the passing year, his painting shoulder continues to give him problems. According to Maxwell, he's now waiting patiently for a long-term disability deal from the old town's waste management profession.

Sack residents, of course, remain suspicious about the matter.  After all, Maxwell continues to appear regularly in the local candlepin bowling league.  However, he claims this is part of his ongoing physical therapy.

It's also notable that Maxwell occasionally takes a few shifts on the waste management truck.  His illustrious cousin, Dougie Duggan is a crew chief and seems to have some influence in having Maxwell aboard.

However, Big Doug has a contact in the old town's administration side.  He reports that Maxwell's shoulder has nothing to do with his fall from grace within the ranks of the waste management profession.  Despite his cousin's protective influence, it appears that Maxwell's work performance has left him languishing on the bottom of the call list when an extra body is required.

Big Doug says Maxwell is known among management types by a rather disparaging moniker:  Mr. Tits-on-a-Bull.  

***

Your agent is aware that today's offering sounds terribly derogatory in regard to Maxwell.  Nothing, however, could be further from the truth.

As much as he seems to be without any discernible intellect, Maxwell is admired for his skill as an illusionist.  As Oscar has said many times, "Here's a guy with a family of four who's living in a middle-class neighbourhood, in a decent house with food, drink and digital cable.  Yet, he doesn't have a job or any chance of getting one in the foreseeable future."

Then he adds, "You gotta have something going on to pull that off."

A few months ago, a matter arose which suggested that Maxwell, depending on your point of view, was also far more industrious than many believed.  Under the noses of Sack residents, he started a thriving commercial enterprise.

***

It was Oscar who noticed it first.

Over time, he noticed an increasing number of cars stopping briefly in front of the Bitterman house.  Maxwell was almost always on the porch as if awaiting the arrivals.  When a car stopped, he would speak briefly through the passenger window.  Then the car would drive away.

Once, Oscar watched as Maxwell pocketed some cash as he walked back to the Bitterman's porch.

***

Weed is the Sack's official Maxwell correspondent.  It didn't take him long to find out about the matter.  Apparently, Maxwell is peddling pot from the porch of the Bitterman home.

So far, the matter hasn't come to the attention of the Sack Resident's Society.  Only a small number of residents are aware of it.  The volume of cars isn't great, so the business could fly under the radar for some time.  As long as Gordon or Elizabeth remains unaware, Maxwell's efforts will likely continue unabated.

Oscar and Weed were pleasantly surprised by the discovery. First, they were impressed with Maxwell's entrepreneurial spirit. They also were thrilled by this newfound convenience.

***

In recent weeks, however, Weed's feelings about the matter have changed.  He's no longer in favour of Maxwell's pot peddling from the porch.

Weed's position hasn't changed due to any alterations in his moral code.  Instead, it's the result of one particular aspect of Maxwell's business.  Weed has concerns about the quality control aspect of the enterprise.

Maxwell, it seems, is peddling very low quality pot from the porch of the Bitterman home.

***