Burning Issues

Press conferences are for the birds. I mean that quite literally.

My first ever press conference was held before a gallery of birds in the Wonders' backyard. A flock of American Goldfinches filled the trees before being scattered by the arrival of Little Doug's cat, Stephen.

After Stephen toddled away, only a Downy Woodpecker remained. I have no idea about his press association, but I suspect he works for some kind of anti-Guy Wonders organization. When I finished my update regarding Maxwell's latest antics, he seemed unimpressed.

"That wasn't very interesting," he said finally.

A brief silence ensued. The flock of goldfinches had been rather annoying with their barrage of questions. But this woodpecker was turning out to be a tough crowd all by himself.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," I replied eventually.

More silence passed. Then the woodpecker asked, "You got anything else?"

"Not if you're going to be so critical," I said calmly. It takes a lot for a woodpecker to get under your agent's skin.

Another uncomfortable pause settled over the back yard. The woodpecker looked skeptical.

"Okay, he said at last, "what's been happening at Burning Manor?"

***

Dirk and Dora are long-time residents of the Sack. They are les enfants terrible of the neighbourhood.

The couple lives at Burning Manor. The house earned this moniker after it burned to the ground about five years ago.

Oscar says that event continues to be regarded by Sack residents as the "most crazy-assed thing" that has happened here. He could be right about this.

The years before Burning Manor went ablaze were like the earliest days of human civilization. Shenanigans occurred with great regularity. There were many incidents of raucous and riotous behaviour. Sleeping hours for Sack residents were nasty, brutish and short.

Back then, the old town's peelers didn't even need the couple's address when a call came in. Directions were unnecessary.

It took about nine months for Burning Manor to rise again. When Dirk and Dora moved back into their rebuilt home, Sack residents hoped the couple would approach their lives with more peace and serenity.

To some degree, that's what happened. Shenanigans still occurred, but to a lesser extent. Middle of the night street theater declined considerably. Peeler visits continued, but there were fewer arrests. Marathon weekend drunk-fests were eliminated entirely.

From an evolutionary perspective, it seemed that Dirk and Dora were proceeding in the right direction.

***

Unfortunately, your agent's Darwinian motif must end here.

During the last nine months, there has been some serious retardation in Burning Manor's development.

Shenanigans have increased significantly. Passions for alcohol and late night parties have been rekindled. Visitors to Burning Manor, according to Gordon, the Grand Poohbah of the Sack Residents Society, are up over two hundred percent since 2008.

This evolutionary regression really began last summer. Sack residents had grown accustomed to seeing Dirk for only brief periods before he disappeared for his three-week work stints aboard an offshore oil rig. As the summer unfolded, however, it became increasingly evident that Dirk was no longer employed.

Sack residents became aware of this change because afternoon parties on Burning Manor's back deck became the norm. These gatherings frequently turned into evening affairs. On one particular occasion in August, Dirk and Dora hosted what appeared to be a twenty-four hour booze bash that saw more than one visit from the old town's peelers.

Oscar says that particular party was either an attempt at a Guinness World Record for drinking endurance or an effort to eliminate the world's supply of Guinness beer.

He could be right on both counts.

***

Intelligence from Tuesday Night Bingo (where Dora's extended family mingle with several Sack residents) suggests that Dirk was laid off from the oil rig gig, but received a healthy severance package.

This information appeared to have some credence as the denizens of Burning Manor suddenly seemed to be flushed with cash. In July, Dora motored into the Sack in a brand new car.

This was a notable event because it marked the first time a vehicle graced the driveway of Burning Manor with a complete set of hubcaps.

Within a matter of weeks, however, Dora's new Hyundai Accent appeared in her driveway with a broken taillight and a significant dent in the rear. No information was forthcoming about the origins of the damage. Sack residents, however, said a collective prayer for the poor soul who had to exchange insurance information with Dora.

***

The renewed shenanigans at Burning Manor will certainly be fodder for future endeavours on the blogging machine. However, an update would not be complete without introducing its newest inhabitant. This individual arrived in September and it appears that he'll be a permanent fixture here.

His arrival is not good news for Sack residents. In the past, Dirk and Dora have enjoyed a motley collection of colourful boarders and short-term visitors. However, none would appear to top their latest addition. Since September, he has been the focal point of the following events:

• Two visits from the old town's peelers, including one that resulted in his arrest.

• Several late night screaming matches with unfortunate cab drivers.

• Verbal altercations with Elizabeth, Gordette and Computer Doug's wife, Marion.

Observant readers of these pages will notice the similarities between the above events and Dora's past misadventures in the Sack. They would correctly conclude that an apple does not fall far from the tree.

Burning Manor's new inhabitant is Dora's father.

***

It should be no surprise that Dora's dad is a burly, rough-and-tumble character.

He's in his late sixties or early seventies, but he retains the appearance of a barrel-chested bulldog. His nose looks like it has been broken more than once. He also has an alarming shortage of upper front teeth. It has already been observed that he wears a set of dentures for special occasions only.

Oscar says those special occasions likely include court appearances. He could be right about this, too.

To cap off his rather unruly visage, Dora's father has a tangled mass of unruly grey hair. As a finishing touch, he has one other charming characteristic. By all accounts, he's a raging alcoholic.

***

Dora's father's noisy entrance into Sack life caused your agent, Oscar and Weed to grant him his very own moniker.

We decided that he resembles an aging brawler who spent his life as a hockey player in the minor professional leagues. In truth, his actual appearance is closer to a career criminal and frequent inhabitant of the correctional system.

In the end, however, we decided that an aging, minor league hockey goon persona would at least give the man an endearing quality.

After much debate, Dora's father was anointed with the name, Teddy McGnarly.

***

As a result of Dora's new car, Teddy McGnarly has been forced to park his battered pickup truck on the street. When winter arrives, however, an overnight street parking ban goes into effect. This allows snowplows to do their jobs.

Unfortunately, no one told Teddy McGnarly about this.

In December, the old town was graced with a furious snowstorm. When a snowplow arrived, the operator saw Teddy McGnarly's truck and promptly drove away. The Sack was left unplowed.

Naturally, this was observed by the usual Sack residents who stand on alert when matters of snow removal arise.

Gordon and Gordette, arms folded, stood together in their window. Elizabeth made regular appearances at her front curtains. Big Doug prowled the perimeter of his driveway like a lion, waiting to remove any errant snow caused by the plow.

At the slightest delay in snow removal or if a glaring inefficiency is noted, they're quick to contact the old town to seek satisfaction.

***

Within an hour of a telephone call, a snowplow arrived in the Sack and cleared space for a tow truck. The tow truck soon arrived and began to connect itself to Teddy McGnarly's vehicle.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Teddy McGnarly came flying out of Burning Manor clad only in an undershirt, jeans and a pair of work boots. A more appropriately dressed Dirk arrived on the scene a little bit later.

By the time Dirk arrived, however, Teddy McGnarly had already laid his hands upon the tow truck driver. The snowplow operator, who was stopped down the street, was also forced to intervene in the matter.

The peelers arrived shortly after that.

***

In the end, the peeler car took Teddy McGnarly away. The tow trucker operator removed the truck. The street, of course, was plowed to the satisfaction of the heavy hitters who lead the Sack Residents Society.

Thankfully, Dora wasn't home at the time or, at least, she was sleeping when the shenanigans occurred. No one is certain about this.

It also remains unknown whether Teddy McGnarly was charged with an offense. He was seen at Burning Manor the next day. His truck, however, did not appear for another week.

Elizabeth lives next door to Burning Manor. A few days after the affair, she had a verbal encounter with Teddy McGnarly. He accused her of calling the tow truck and the peelers. Oscar tells me that Teddy concluded his tirade by casting a pox on Elizabeth's house. At least, this would be the most polite way of expressing it.

Elizabeth, of course, was unperturbed by the casting of a pox upon her home. After all, Teddy McNarly's daughter, Dora has already done this on numerous occasions. Showing an uncharacteristic sense of humour, Elizabeth says it probably won't be the last time.

Unfortunately, she could be right about this.

***

Expecting the Worst

If you were thinking about holding a press conference in front of a tree full of goldfinches, I wouldn't recommend it.


As my press conference continued, the goldfinches broke into another barrage of questions. I couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Once again, I asked for order. The birds were in the midst of calming when suddenly, they flew away. Your befuddled agent stood before an empty press gallery.

I was about to go back in the house when a shadow moved at the corner of my eye. Little Doug's cat, Stephen was perched on the deck rail. He was out on one of his bird-hunting trips. The mystery behind the abrupt end of the press conference was solved.

For a few moments, Stephen gave me an accusing glare, as if it was my fault that his prey had vanished. I returned his gaze with a look of indifference. Eventually, he hopped off the rail and toddled down the deck stairs.

I was about to return to the house when I heard a sharp, distinct sound. Glancing into the trees, I spied the distinct markings of a Downy Woodpecker. He was about six feet away on an upper tree branch.

"Is the press conference still on?" he chirped.

"I guess so," I replied. What else does one say to a Downy Woodpecker?

"Okay, then, he answered quickly, so what's up with Maxwell these days?"

***

Maxwell, Britney Bitterman's beau has not disappointed Sack observers during the last nine months. His antics have continued to amuse and amaze.

For the uninformed, Maxwell is a wheeling and dealing n'er-do-well who has ensconced himself in a comfortable Sack home on the sole strength of his talent for procreation.

Maxwell, Britney and their two rug rats, Hekyl and Jekyl have been living in the Sack with Britney's parents for several years now. Despite occasional rumours of a move to their own apartment, they seem destined for long-term residence in the Bitterman home. Mr. Bitterman said as much during a recent driveway chat with Oscar.

According to Mr. Bitterman, only a big lottery win is likely to terminate the current living arrangements.

***

Mr. Bitterman has good reasons for pessimism. During Maxwell's tenure at the Bitterman home, he has consistently demonstrated his inability (or perhaps, unwillingness) to earn a regular income.

Of course, Maxwell would be the first to explain about his extraordinary bad fortune when it comes to matters of commerce and employment. From his point of view, he has been on the cusp of economic success on numerous occasions, only to see his aspirations crushed by the devilish Lady Luck.

Cutlass Supreme Painting would be Maxwell's best example of this. This is the commercial painting business for which he serves as sole proprietor and chief
executive officer. The company's assets consist of its namesake, a battered 1995 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, a stolen fourteen-foot ladder, a box of simple text business cards, and whatever quantity of weed that Maxwell possesses at any given moment.

According to Maxwell, Cutlass Supreme Painting has been on the verge of securing numerous lucrative painting contracts. In the end, each gig has failed to materialize. As a result, the company's total revenue since inception remains somewhere close to a number resembling a maple sugar donut.

***

With the scarcity of work at Cutlass Supreme Painting, Maxwell faced the indignity of employment in the public domain. After a series of short-term gigs with other commercial painting outfits (amateurs who didn't appreciate the talent of the best interior painter east of Montreal), he found a full-time gig with the old town's waste management brigade.

Working under the supervision of his illustrious cousin, Doug "Dougie" Duggan, it first appeared that Maxwell had found his niche. After an extraordinary run of several months, he claimed that he was on a fast track to commanding his very own waste management crew.

Sadly, the job went awry after Maxwell suffered a shoulder injury at work. Apparently, he was demonstrating his acclaimed "Look, ma, no hands!" trick while perched on the back of a waste management truck. The resulting fall caused him to miss a considerable period of work. When he returned, his hours were sporadic. Eventually, the waste management profession determined that his services were no longer required.

***

For most of last year, Maxwell kept his distance from anything resembling paid employment. His only source of income seemed derived from peddling pot from the porch of the Bitterman abode. Thankfully, his delightful partner, Britney continued to bring in some cash from her part-time gig as a cashier with a government-operated liquor store.

In the fall, however, Maxwell stunned Sack observers with his announcement that he was stepping into a new career. He told Weed all about it during an impromptu discussion at the local coffee cathedral. This is where he takes his pot peddling activity when the weather turns cold.

According to Maxwell, he was about to enter the rarefied air of the white-collar world. Starting on the following week, he would assume an inside-sales position with a local lawn maintenance outfit. It would involve selling service packages over the telephone to an unsuspecting public.

Maxwell noted that his new career included a significant bonus scheme. With success almost guaranteed, he would likely quadruple his salary without breaking a sweat. In anticipation of this future wealth, he fully expected to take Britney and the kids to Disneyland by the time March rolled around.

It's very common for Maxwell to count his chickens before they hatch.

***

Of course, Maxwell's white-collar career lasted less than three days. He was two days shy of completing the weeklong training program.

Maxwell didn't say much about what lead to his departure. Apparently there was something about the company's misrepresentation of their bonus package. Most certainly, it had nothing to do with his absence on the second day due to an apparent "wicked toothache."

Mr. Bitterman provided the latter explanation during another driveway chinwag with Oscar.

***

One might expect that Maxwell would withdraw from the cruel world of gainful employment after yet another setback. And that's exactly what he did for the remainder of 2009.

In January, however, Maxwell displayed steely determination by landing a part-time job. He anticipates that it will become a full-time gig when spring arrives.

Your agent was the first to learn about this latest achievement. I was driving in the downtown quarter on a cold Tuesday morning. Traffic had come to a halt. The freezing temperature had somehow contributed to a broken water main. A work crew was holding up traffic to allow cars in each direction to navigate a single lane.

When I reached the worker holding the temporary stop sign, a very curious image materialized. Sitting on an upturned bucket beside the worker was Maxwell. He wore a white construction hat and a neon traffic vest. A take-out coffee was in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Maxwell smiled broadly in recognition and held up his coffee in a celebratory toast. I replied with a congratulatory 'thumbs up' and then lowered my window for a brief chat. Maxwell explained that he was on his first shift as an employee of a traffic services company. With great authority, he said it was the company's responsibility to manage traffic flow during significant road construction and repair.

Naturally, I had arrived during his first morning break.

***

Later, Weed learned that Maxwell secured his new part-time job through his connection to an existing employee. This was none other than his cousin, Dougie Duggan. Apparently, his career in the waste management profession had also turned sour.

Maxwell also told Weed that it's virtually certain that he'll be employed on a full-time basis when spring road construction begins. He expects to be rolling in cash before summer arrives.

His Disneyland plans abandoned, Maxwell has apparently turned his attention to a loftier goal. He says he's planning to save his hard-earned money until next year. At that time, he expects to have enough for a down payment on the Bitterman's Sack abode. Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman, he explained, would likely buy a condominium somewhere in anticipation of their future retirement.

Weed was emphatic that Maxwell outlined this plan with a straight face.

***

Sack observers agree that it's quite prudent for Maxwell to save his money for the future. This is especially so, given the most recent update on his fortunes.

Three weeks ago, Weed's partner, Daisy garnered some fascinating news during a conversation with Britney Bitterman.

Apparently, Britney had visited her doctor a few days before. This is when she learned about an impending change in the number of inhabitants at the Bitterman home.


Britney and Maxwell are expecting their third child in early July.

***

At the moment, there's no information available regarding Mr. Bitterman's awareness of this matter. As far as reactions are concerned, one can only expect the worst.

Resident Alien

The press conference continued. Poised in the trees off the Wonders' back deck, a flock of American Goldfinches acted as my audience. Once again, they sang out their questions simultaneously. It was impossible to make sense of anything.

"If you aren't going to be civilized," I said with authority, "this press conference will be over."

An immediate hush descended on the trees. After a few seconds, a sharply coiffed goldfinch in the front row sang out his question. A press pass tucked under his right wing identified him as a correspondent for the dreadful Finch News Network.

I made a great show of ignoring him.

Seizing the moment, another bird chirped in with a different question. It was actually a Pine Siskin. Sometimes they hang out with goldfinches.

"Come again?" I replied, making eye contact with the bird.

Realizing that she held the floor, the Pine Siskin cleared her little throat and sang, "Are there any new residents in the Sack?"

***

During a midweek morning last June, a small cube van entered the Sack and backed into Gordon's driveway. A few moments later, a car arrived and pulled in behind the van.

Oscar, who works from home, was sitting on the steps of his front porch when the vehicles arrived. He said he was taking a well deserved break at the time. It was far more likely that he was taking a break from lying on his couch.

According to Oscar, two young men emerged from the cube van. Gordon and his girlfriend, Gordette got out of the car. One of the young men opened the back of the van. It contained a number of boxes, pieces of furniture and other personal effects.

It didn't take long for Oscar to realize what was happening. Gordette was moving in with Gordon. It was her first day as a new, permanent resident of the Sack.

***

About two years ago, Gordon's marriage came to an abrupt end. His wife had secured a new job out west. She decided to leave Gordon and their marriage behind.

This wasn't a great surprise to most Sack observers. Order and conformity are very important to Gordon. His fervent attention to his home and property is almost legendary. His former wife's nature, on the other hand, was more relaxed. She had other, more varied interests.

It probably didn't help that Gordon often rubs others the wrong way. He tends to hold people to his own standards. Not surprisingly, this leads to conflict in diverse settings.

These characteristics, as well as his irksome efforts as the Grand Poohbah of the Sack Residents Society, have earned him a reputation as a bit of a dink.

Over time, it appeared that his former spouse came to the same conclusion.

***

Gordon clearly struggled in the months that followed the end of his marriage. It took some time for him to find his stride again. It didn't take too long, however, before he met Gordette.

After Sack residents had some exposure to Gordette, it became clear to that she shares many of Gordon's values and characteristics. In fact, this is how she earned her moniker in the first place. Ben's wife, Norma calls them "two peas in a pod." Oscar says they're "cut from the same cloth."

I think we're running seriously short of metaphors around here.

***

Not long after meeting Gordon, Gordette had a nasty run-in with Little Doug. He had the temerity to park his truck along the Sack's centre circle. Gordette backed her car out of Gordon's driveway and promptly dinged the side of Little Doug's pickup truck.

In Gordette's mind, the accident was Little Doug's fault. He thought otherwise, noting that he was watching The Dog Whisperer on television at the time of the accident. A caustic verbal exchange ensued.

In the end, the matter was resolved. Gordette, however, had already proven that her union with Gordon was a match made in heaven.

***

Gordette has been living in the Sack for almost nine months. As Oscar puts it, she has only shown up our collective radar screen on a few occasions.

The most recent time was only a few weeks ago. She gave young Doo a proper, public scolding in the midst of the Sack's centre circle. Using a baseball bat, he had been striking a metal pole attached to a "No Parking" sign. He had been doing this repeatedly for about fifteen minutes. He was making an awful racket.

Gordette's appearance on the scene was actually welcomed by other Sack residents. Big Doug said he was considering a chainsaw when Gordette approached the boy. He said he was going to cut the baseball bat into sawdust. Oscar said he was thinking about chasing Doo with a chainsaw.

In a strong, even voice, Gordette ordered the boy to cease and desist with the baseball bat. He quickly recognized her formidable demeanour. When the sharp lecture was over, he turned on his heels and marched down the street toward his house, dragging the bat behind him.

***

It was appropriate that Gordette was the one to intercede when Doo was clanging his bat against the metal pole of the "No Parking" sign.

Not long after her accident with Little Doug, the old town's civic workers arrived and erected a sign on opposite sides of the Sack's centre circle. It was no longer legal to park where Little Doug's pickup truck was located when the accident occurred.

Some Sack residents were perturbed by the sudden appearance of the signs. Parking along the circle was handy when visitors arrived or when they were in a hurry. Some people wondered why they weren't consulted about the signs.

At the time, Gordon was in frequent contact with the local city councillor about other Sack-related matters. However, he denied any knowledge of the old town's decision to install the signs.

Eventually, the matter was forgotten.

***

Before Christmas, however, there was an small gathering of Sack residents at Big Doug's house. It was a low-key, drop-in affair to celebrate the holiday season. Gordon and Gordette were in attendance.

Mrs. Wonders had occasion to engage in a lengthy conversation with Gordette. Apparently, she's thrilled to be sharing her life with Gordon. She's also looking forward to helping Sack residents in dealing with the old town about various civic matters. She said everyone will be happy to know that she has some unique skills and experience in this area. This is because she has worked in an administrative capacity for the old town for the last fifteen years.

As evidence of her prowess, Gordette nudged Mrs. Wonders' arm and said, "Who do you think got us those "No Parking" signs?"

***