Smile dammit!

The woman walked quickly along the busy street. Immersed in her own thoughts, she barely noticed the noisy traffic and passersby that swirled around her.

A horn blared behind her, jolting her back to the here and now. She looked over her shoulder at the offending vehicle and frowned. Turning her eyes toward her destination, she noticed a man sitting with his back to a store front several yards ahead of her. He was unshaven, wore dirty, ripped clothing, and was holding a sign. Just another homeless person in this city that was home to so many who could not afford a roof. Unremarkable.

The woman silently cursed as she realized that she had no change to offer him. She hated meeting the eyes of those in need without being able to assuage her guilt by offering a coin or two. She considered averting her eyes as she passed. She was only a few feet away now. At that moment, the man turned his sign in her direction. She was sure it would have some sad message on it, something to persuade people to part with their spare change. Instead, she read:

"Smile dammit!"

Scrawled in black sharpie ink on ripped cardboard. Immediately, her furrowed brow relaxed, and her face broke into a wide grin. The man whooped and wiggled his whole body in celebration of his victory.

The woman chuckled to herself as she walked on. And smiled.

Observation.

People are more likely to acknowledge you with a nod, a smile, or even a friendly "Hello" as they pass if you are both walking on the street, rather than the sidewalk.

Curious.

What is it that prompts this? Is it that they feel more of a connection? That you are bonded by your rebellious need to avoid the bone-crushingly slippery ice on the sidewalks , and play chicken with on-coming traffic?

The benefits of Queen, freestyle.

It's amazing what things will make you smile and set your day off on the right foot.

This morning it was the solitary, and very off-tune stylings of the guy I passed on my way to work. He was crooning to himself while painting his house, and I was delighted when I realized that his tune of choice was Bohemian Rhapsody. As I passed him, I joined him by singing along in my head, and couldn't help but grin when he shakily extended the note that accompanies "toooo meeeee" about three beats longer than Freddy would have done. Gotta love poetic license.

More people should sing as they work. I think the world would be a much calmer, happier, and entertaining place if we did.

It's a slow day...

Overheard at the office:

"That's the first time I've ever seen purple paint!"

Internal commentary:

What kind of hideously sheltered life has not, in over 50 years, involved purple paint?!?

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The REAL reason they put benches in public washrooms.

Everyone seems to have a different sensitivity to Public Displays of Affection. Some are loathe to hold hands in public, while others seem to have no qualms about detailed exploration of their partner's anatomy whilst in a group situation. I place myself somewhere in the hazy middle of this scale: I don't consider myself to be a prude, but I wouldn't say I'm exactly an exhibitionist either. Really, I think I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to PDAs: I think it's nice to see a couple expressing their love? affection? for one another... but when a quick peck on the lips or a hand on the leg turns into obvious lust right before my eyes, I'll admit, I tend to feel awkward- like I'm peeping, even though we're all in a public place.

This brings me to an explanation of the motivation behind this post: On Saturday evening, I attended an event with a large group of friends. It was something we had all been looking forward to for a long time- winding down after a loooong couple of months while enjoying one another's company. One of our number has recently begun a new romantic relationship. He and his new amour are still in the cuddling, don't-want-to-let-you-out-of-my-sight-for-two-seconds phase, and it's really quite cute. To a point. During the course of the evening they spoke to approximately 5 people, and ended up making out in the middle of the room- taking a 30 second break every 5 minutes or so. I really would rather that I did not have as much detail as I do concerning their... mutual affection... but as they were in the middle of a rather small room, it was sort of hard to miss. At one point, they decided to get away from 'prying eyes' and proceeded to occupy one of the washrooms for a while...

*sigh*

The whole scenario reminds me strongly of a futuristic short story I once read (Jules Verne?) in which spontaneous sexual activity had replaced conversation as the culturally acceptable mode of relation between the sexes. The story, of course, revolved around a young man and woman who were looking more for cerebral than sexual stimulation, and thus found themselves at odds with the societal norms. It was a very interesting read, and I have often mused as to whether or not this is one direction in which our current society might be leading us...

Now don't get me wrong- no one at the party on Saturday was particularly upset by the couple's display of attraction- on the whole everyone was pretty amused: There were lots of comments along the lines of "Well I haven't seen THAT since I was in the eighth grade..." and the occasional joking "Ahhhh. Ain't love grand?" But it sparked a hot, and somewhat drunken, debate to which I now request your input. So here is the question:

Public Displays of Affection: How far is too far?

Go nuts.

Willingly boring holes in my teeth.

Yesterday morning, a beautifully sunny and brisk Sunday, a group of friends, acquaintances, and I ventured to the little pioneer village just outside of town to participate in the annual Sugar Bush ritual. We left at a relatively early hour, considered by some to be unreasonably early, in the hopes of beating the post-church crowds.

For those of you who have never experienced a Sugar Bush festival, it is an event the surrounds the production of maple syrup: Once all of the sap has been collected, it is boiled for hours and hours (~20 or so, I think), until it is reduced to the sticky goodness that is real maple syrup- it takes something like 30-40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup!

Once the syrup stage is reached, one pot is kept on the fire to be reduced even
further, in order to produce maple candy. This wondrous stuff is then poured over snow to cool, and then wrapped around a popsicle stick to make a sugary lollipop of bliss that will rot your teeth out of your mouth even as you consume it.

In my hometown, this process is combined with the annual fundraiser for the local Search and Rescue: what better to go with fresh maple syrup than a pancake breakfast? Once you've gorged yourself on a plate of pancakes and eggs and bacon and sauage and beans and toast, you can work it all off by wandering around the village, which is beautifully situated, and really quite pretty. This is made incredibly enjoyable by the satisfying feel of a full belly and listening to children yelp in delight as the pigs snuffle about their stalls. Later, you can stop in at the pub for hot apple cider (or hot toddy...), and purchase just about every form of maple sugar known to humankind.

I can't quite put my finger on why, but I always enjoy this outing immensley. It was a good Sunday.

Riding in cars. With or without boys.

You know, it never ceases to blow me away: What people will do in their cars, while sitting in traffic. Now admittedly, there is not much 'real' traffic in my neck of the woods, but you do occasionally have to wait five to ten minutes to make it through an intersection or two, so there is some time for people watching. I like to watch the car behind me through my rear-view mirror. Somewhat voyeuristic, I know, but it's still a public place... I observed three cars yesterday.

The first is the one that prompted this post. When I glanced in the rear view mirror, the lone occupant was digging around in her nose. And I mean digging. Once she had finished with both nostrils (it was like a train wreck or one of those mosquito lights: I couldn't look away... I just had to know how deep she was gonna go. Was she going to nick a vessel? Would the paramedics be needed??), she commenced with her nails (I figure they would have needed a good cleaning after where they'd just been), and then she proceeded to use the rear view mirror to examine her eyebrows and how they reacted to every ridiculous expression she could think of. Alas, my entertainment was cut short by the change of the light, at which point she gunned the gas and nearly clipped my rear end as she made a sudden lane change and swerved around the corner.

The next car kind of freaked me out a bit. It was one of those ugly new Cadillacs, and the occupants, a man and woman who appeared to be in their early twenties, were obviously having words. They looked furious with one another, and as the woman kept talking, I really thought the man (who was driving) just might smack her. He didn't though. At least not that I saw. The light changed, and as I proceeded through the intersection, he made an illegal and high-speed turn, cutting off traffic in the turning lane.

The third and final car was a van with two occupants, ostensibly father and son. This pair was fun to watch. They quite obviously were having a blast, laughing and joking. The son looked to be about 10 years old, and at one point was demonstrating something that looked very little boy-ish. I imagine battleships and fighter jets were involved, complete with sound effects. The light changed, and I was forced to concentrate on what was in front of me.

So why do people act as though they're alone in their cars when, in reality, they are, more often than not, in the middle of a crowd? I suppose all this must have something to do with the fact that when in our cars, we feel relatively secure and isolated, never mind the fact that we're surrounded by clear glass... I must admit that I myself have been caught by this: More than once I have been rocking out to the stereo, singing to the masses at Woodstock, only to return to my senses and find that I have been serenading (potentially off-key) three lanes of traffic with my windows down. I got applause once, but I think that due more to my comedic value than singing abilities...

Hmmmm... just another day in the fascinating realm of people watching.

Oops! Did I horn you?!

So Halloween has come and gone once again.

I really quite like All Hallows Eve... especially when it comes to manning the door at my parents house and greeting all of the neighbourhood kids- one of my favourite things to do. It's sort of a family tradition, you see. When I was growing up (and even still most years) My Mom and Dad would always get all costumed up. One of them would take my sister and I trick-or-treating, and the other would remain on door duty. It was great to watch my Dad in action at the door. He's always got a fabulous costume (my personal favorite was the very convincing California Raisin of 1988... does anyone besides me remember the California Raisins??) and never fails to grill the trick-or-treaters about their costumes, their candy haul, or whatever else might present itself. Those kids earn their candy at my house.

Since bridging the gap into 'adulthood' (is anyone really an adult at Halloween?), I've divided my time between the 'grown-up' Halloween parties, and door duty (fortunately, Halloween has a 5 in 7 chance of falling on a week night, so the parties are usually scheduled on the closest available weekend, thus freeing me up for door duty). This year, the party was also my friend's birthday. A group of us decided to go as... wait for it... the Spice Girls!

Look at us! Aren't we simply devastating? You'll note that, in keeping with an authentic Spice Girls look, I tried in vain to turn my cork-screw curls to Posh-pin straight, but alas, the rainy atmosphere had different plans.

I've got to say, it wasn't until we popped some old Spice Girls tunes on (you know, to get us in the mood), that I realized just how raunchy their lyrics are. What were we thinking?? But I digress...




Watch those things, Scary! I don't want to lose an eye! (I'm told that Tiffany, aka Scary Spice, was nearly reduced to cutting those things- actually gold christmas trees- out. Almost.)











... and here's Ginger (aka-my sister) striking a pose...

Bust a move, Graham! Oh, I mean... wait... who are you again?

This is Thuy (pronounced Twee) and Colin,
aka- a butterfly nymph and the undead...



















As you can see, a good time was had by all (despite the rain and the fact that come 1am there wasn't a single cab to be found in the whole of downtown) and the costumes were suprisingly entertaining.

Three nights later, I did door duty once again (as a slightly more wholesome gypsy this time), and was highly entertained by a variety of ghouls, goblins, a sleeping bunny, one very small giraffe, and a jack-o-lantern extinguishing turtle. Hee :D
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