February 14, 2012

This, that and t'other

This will be a rumbly post, because that is the mood I'm in. I had to get up at 6am. Make that '6 fricking am' because that is the way I think of it. I had a fun breakfast meeting downtown that started at 8:30, so that meant stumbling out in the dark, joining an insanely long lineup at Tim's for a giant tea, then onto the highway. I should have made it a smaller tea. Stuff goes right through you.

Starting my day out on its head meant restarting it at noon, when I got home. I'd driven in that ugly kind of weather that keeps your windshield perpetually covered in crud. I'm not driving my car, which I keep topped up with squirter stuff at all times, but the Porsche. I was worried about running out, and I knew if I called and asked Mr. Bye if it was full, he'd only call me names. See: my last blog entry.

I have a piece in the Globe that I'd forgotten about. My editor asked for a Valentines rant a month ago, and I wrote a piece and promptly forgot. It wasn't ranty, but he accepted it anyway. I don't think you need to be ranty on Valentines Day. Instead I wrote about cars in my teens, what the guys drove, and what impressed me. Of course some commenters have decided I was some kind of wanton hussy, which made me giggle madly. Guess they haven't figured out my father used to sit on the front step with a shotgun across his lap.

I would like our dear Mr. Harper to read this. Well, he can also read about my dating years, if he likes, but this is the one that matters. Two business execs have been sentenced to 16 years in prison and millions in fines over asbestos. An Italian court found them liable for causing the deaths of over 2,000 people, due to asbestos fibres. You know. Asbestos. That cancer causing weapon we insist on mining, and this Conservative government insists on exporting. Go, Italy, and thank you.

A current favourite of mine, Tim Dowling, has a lovely bit today. He writes in the Guardian, but he lives in Denver. That's easy to forget, until he mentions snow. Writing about a spontaneous family moment, he notes this:

These rare outbreaks of harmony invariably coincide with one of the children being missing – it doesn't matter which one. This might lead you to conclude that three children is too many and two the perfect number, but it doesn't work like that. You have to have the extra one to get the benefit of its absence.

I dunno. I just liked it. It's just a lovely observance, and a true one. And no, I don't have a third kid I've been keeping from you.

Ah, well. Off to finish some work up, see who's bashing me for being a tramp, and deciding if I really need to go do some cardio at the Y. My training is going well, if by well I mean a weird overall pain in parts of my body that apparently have muscle in them. Somewhere. Oh, and I bought sporty new shoes. I decided that every 15 years, I get new sneakers. I took Ari because he needed shoes, and before I knew it I was holding a pair and yoohooing him from across the store. He loves it when I do that.

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Anonymous jmd said...

A POX on all those misanthropic troglodytes who made the ignorant comments on your article. We loyal readers don't care if you're a tramp, we love you anyway.

February 14, 2012 2:44 PM  
Anonymous Roz said...

The last couple of lines of your blog - yeah, I'll bet. Reminds me of the time I took a U.K. dude to a Blue Jays game (back when lots of people went) and he started yelling "oy, oy" trying to get the beer guys attention. Everyone was looking at me like I was the one oying.

February 14, 2012 3:54 PM  
Anonymous Padraig said...

When you left the Star for the Globe, I thought you might get a better class of comment. Hah! Most of them still have obviously read just the headline and the first sentence before posting.
Mind you, when I was 17, all I had was a three-speed bicycle;please say I wouldn't have been below your radar.
My word is disalias, as in 'disalias is also my real name

February 14, 2012 4:03 PM  
Blogger Chris Brown (not the felon) said...

Tonight, for the first time in 12 years (ie: since we sold our business) my wife and I will dine at an eating establishment and be served by someone other than a relative. Or a dog. So for tonight, our favourite type of vehicle is a filthy blue Honda Odyssey. I will look accross the candle lit table and gaze into my wife's eyes and suppress the desire to wonder out loud if the youngest daughter and our foster daughter have spent all their income from the past month, touring Tim Horton's and collecting free flowers from all the young Timmie servers.

On a night like tonight, romance is in the air. Even at Timmies.

"puwqstor" Something the Leafs need so they don't run out of little black missiles.

February 14, 2012 4:50 PM  
Anonymous Zena said...

1973 Gremlin (hand-me-down from his mom); cobalt blue; no power brakes, no power steering...

It ended up nose-first in a ditch when he was teaching me to drive (long, hilarious story). To their credit, his parents didn't interrogate him too soundly when he arrived home with mud and grass embedded in the mangled front grille...

In my relationship handbook, if a guy's first reaction when you crash his car in the mud is laughter, he's a keeper.

I guess all's well that "endweles"...

February 14, 2012 5:39 PM  
Anonymous buzzwhack said...

I read the G&M articles you posted links to. I can't for the life of me imagine how someone would get the idea you were a wanton hussy.I seem to recall the Fram Filters and Motor Oil story. Good one, that. I am enjoying Tea for One this evening.

February 14, 2012 7:47 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

I may be wanton, but I'm no hussy, I'll have you know=)

Thank you, Jane. Unconditional love is a wonderful thing.

Paidraig: the funny thing is, the cars were a rarity. I started high school when I was 12, so the whole car thing was rare. Apparently not rare enough for some...

Zena - there are Gremlin clubs! I hear from them! They are real!

Chris - I was in a thingee this morning with Wendel Clark. Leafs could use him, no?

I'm just ignoring Roz. I've heard her oying.

February 14, 2012 7:53 PM  
Anonymous PJ said...

You were in a thingie with Wendel Clarke? And in the same entry you claim you're not a hussy! Hrmph...

February 14, 2012 9:13 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

It was a seminar thing that assembles 'influencers' with a big ad agency to pick our brains. I'm an 'influencer'. Yeah. Jim Kenzie was there, too, which was fun. I love Jim.

My contribution? 'Just because you paint it pink doesn't mean chicks will buy it'.

And some other stuff. Wendell is quite sweet. And quiet. Compared to me.

February 14, 2012 9:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Don't know what to say on all these comments.
My first car (1964)was a 1956(?) Chrysler Imperial 500 station wagon. Didn't have any purchase protection back then. Got it home to my driveway (off the back lane), went out in the morning to start the car, fan came flying off and destroyed the radiator. I was 16 and made very little money. Got $25 from scrap yard..

February 15, 2012 7:07 AM  
Anonymous dar said...

re: tea & pee & thee
- visitors to Tibet in olden days would be offered tea mixed with rancid yak butter...hmm,a cold country,just like ours...why not add a bit of extra virgin coconut oil to the cuppa?
-it WORKS, even with my bashed kidneys from m/bike mishaps...30 years of 'sorry,gotta GO' banished. go figure.

February 16, 2012 8:27 PM  
Blogger DJW said...

Back in the day when I was young, dumb and full of money, I had my own private fleet.
A brand new loaded Cavalier RS (when they had a V6!), a 80 Citation winter beater I paid $60 for, a 74 Javelin, a 73 Mustang Stock Car which I raced, and a Franken-truck which was an 80 4x4 Suburban frame and driveline, a 76 Sierra Grande Cab and a tilt-flatbed for car hauling.
I would gauge the reaction of my date to the vehicle I drove that night.
On one particular date, I drove Thumper (the truck) to the bar where we were meeting. I took care of a favour for the bar owner on the way in, snapping off 10 or so fence posts for him with my push bar.
My date witnessed this.
She said I smoked too much, drank too much, drove too crazy and wouldn't live to be 30.


Fooled her.


hey! I got two words! mulitio but...what you get when you have too many Mulitio's!

February 18, 2012 11:00 AM  

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