Most. Embarrassing. Ever.
A person I know, probably not my son...
1 Week. Spring Break. He's not having a good time. Home to visit family, friends, to Calgary, he's finding that he has less and less in common with everyone he once knew. Friends, they're boring and conservative. They go for drinks...
The clubs, he wants to hit HiFi on my recommendation, they're happy at the National. Chalk and Cheese. And, being outnumbered, he invariably capitulates, the nights grow long and without purpose. I understand, been out with those friends, but we have the bars we compromise on, The Ship and Anchor springs to mind...and failing compromise I'll just say "Fuck it, see you later". The National, on 10th, a good source of vacuously good looking bimbos and juice monkeys, I'll do it for an hour, tops, then we gotta find someplace a little more interesting, this isn't my scene, not by a long-shot...his rare nights out are wasted...
There's a Burlesque show at Arts Commons, U of C, the point of burlesque, adult humor, ribald, suggestive, naughty, sexy, fun, erotic, but it doesn't cross the line into pornography, imagine a more sophisticated striptease where the girls get to keep all of their dignity and some of their clothes and you have the idea...a civilized but rambunctious night out, I urge him to go, I'll pay, I can't or I would, I have to work (Always, always, but spring is coming and the plan is brewing...), He tries to persuade his friends to come, he'll pay, they don't want to, think it's perverted. He's irate beyond measure, wants only to get back to Victoria...
An excellent example of what he probably didn't miss:
{embed:youtube:BpQjks_ujwQ}
I completely get it. It's the old Thomas Wolfe - "You can't go home again...".
I'd given him a set of portable lockpicks for Xmas, hidden inside a bogus credit card, for emergency use, or practice, the thought, inspiration, that he might become a double nought spy...he got busted with them flying from Victoria here, interrogated, released, he's not flown with them since, decides he's going to practice. On with a pair of old handcuffs...
Nobody with a high-school education should find themselves in handcuffs for longer than 5 minutes. No child of mine, anyways, the quick release and then vengeance, but the gaps in my parenting are soon exposed....I'd never taught him how to pick handcuffs, you don't need lockpicks, they're for the barrel-tumbler locks, like doors and padlocks and such, for handcuffs a bent piece of wire, a paperclip would suffice, or slender aluminum shank, to slide between the ratchets...
Half an hour later the cuffs had grown so tight the circulation to his hands is cut off, they began to swell, turn purple, he drives himself to the police station. They can't help, their keys don't work, they're not amused. From here to the firehall, where the firemen eventually use bolt cutters to remove them.
If he'd of called me, I could have told him how, but then, being in that situation would not be the position to call me from. I get it. He tells the story without any sheepishness, he's resigned, knows exactly how it appears, I laugh, it's without a doubt the best story I've heard in a while...
For future reference. Practice picking handcuffs before putting them on. When you've mastered that, then put them on and pick them. When you've mastered that, practice picking them when they're on behind your back. And if you haven't mastered it, for god's sake, keep a set of keys handy...
There are a couple of morals here, one, if you find yourself in any way needing the assistance of the police or fire department things have probably gone very wrong for you. And two, maybe don't go to the police for help...they aren't generally of any reasonable assistance.
I try to reassure him, he's bright, I can understand this, we've all been in similar positions...
"Don't worry...(the daughter) will be the rocket scientist. You just work on being an actor...."
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- Category: Conversations
A giant snowdrift blocking the road
I'm in my father's house, not house, living there, there's Uncle B**** and P**, at the end of a hall there's an antique phone, land line...Uncle P** tells me to call this number, it's a scam or something, as soon as I lift the receiver there's a voice telling me that I've done something wrong and the police have been dispatched.
We shrug, we've done nothing wrong...
I can't seem to find my room, opening doors, so many doors, he's let out some of the rooms to strangers, I see beds in each of the rooms, otherwise bare...
I'm drinking cranberry juice and soda, we have a soda machine, don't know why, I'm thirsty, but can't seem to quench the thirst, no matter how much ice I add the juice is never cold enough...
...driving, in my jeep, following a car, cutting across the states from Montana through Idaho and into Washington...the road is full of snow, the car ahead of me is trying to speed but the road is too slippery, I'm in no rush and back off, through a tunnel, exiting the road is completely blocked by a snow drift, an ice cave follows the general direction of the road, but it's impassable, you can see the colors of daylight through the snow above, I get out to take a picture, get my phone, this would be a great panorama, but my fingers, they're not working as they should, I can't seem to get the passcode in, the phone/camera isn't working...
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- Category: Dreams
Valentines 2016
Another Valentines in Hospitality. That's OK, need the cash, these are the first busy days in over a month.
It started Thursday, the early trickle of Valentines couples on errant schedules, hoping to avoid the rush or the special menu pricing, alternate lifestyle couples that have more than a single person to pass Valentines with and so their whole weekend will be taken up, and sensible diners who know damn well this isn't a weekend to dine out...
Friday, busy, as above. Saturday, the countless couples, and the almost as many no shows, people who call around and book reservations at as many restaurants as they can, then decide where they'll spend Valentines. They don't let us know, and don't answer the phone when we call to confirm. Like every year I've ever been there, we never fill. One table even tries to walk-in, no reservation, we have room, but that's some audacity and poor planning...
For most of these people this is a rare night out. They're on tight budgets, drink water, skip the appetizers, you can dine with us for pretty reasonably, comparatively. Duty bound husbands and spouses, couples, but for all the hype I don't get the love off even a single table. Comfort, complacency, but Love, well, it's a lot harder to find.
We have few regulars here this weekend, most know better. But there's a few, one, ordering expensive wine, $200 bottle, 3 people, over $600 bill, he brings a couple of us glasses of wine to share, steps out, runs to the florists, buys a few dozen roses (and these at Valentine's Pricing), then comes back to the restaurant to give them to some of the customers, his dates, the female kitchen staff, he's brightening a lot of lives and he knows it, he's a champion...
Tomorrow, the relentless onslaught of deuces, Sunday, traditionally closed but we're opening for this, already booked solid, but as we should have learned by now appearances are deceiving. I'm, we all are, Valentines free this year, it comes with the job, the territory, but so far, this year, I'm kind of glad...
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- Category: Miscellany
Placebos
A rather interesting article on how your body trains itself to respond to medicine:
http://mosaicscience.com/story/medicine-without-the-medicine-how-to-train-your-immune-system-placebo
Noteworthy in the study is how the mice died even when no poison was administered, the thought/association of dying was enough...
And there's this - the placebo effect is rising: http://www.nature.com/news/strong-placebo-response-thwarts-painkiller-trials-1.18511
Which raises some interesting questions about medicine in general. But I'll let you ask those on your own...
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- Category: Link of the day
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