Saturday, June 10, 2006
The Storm Blog Highlight of the Week
After much discussion and bickering back and forth, the judges decided that Don's phone call to Jim at (hold it we have to go look at the jacket) Mister Tire was his highlight of the week. The runner-ups, Kev and Ger, were rather blase about it all. So was Jim but at least he had the decency to tell me that me that I'm special.
James
At the time, I really thought I was being too harsh on Jimmy when I posted this pic next to his bio.
Obviously not. He could be trying to annoy me but I doubt it. His most recent e-mail indicates that even the Supremo Puba (in-waiting) gets a little testy when hung over.
Now what happens? It takes The Supremo Puba Of All Time six or seven weeks to get over a hangover. Gawd knows how long it will take his eldest son to recover from a hangover when he reaches the throne.
Has The Storm Clan ever had a palace coup? I personally think it's time we did. We need new blood. And lots of of it. Where is the Red Cross when one needs them? Actually Jimmy is okay, he just noticed he's getting old. In unison: Aaaw. I've never received an ounce of sympathy in my life so anyone whom gives Jim any is dead.
My Week
I try, I really, really try to lead an uneventful life. Get up, make breakfast, bike to work, work, bike home, have dinner, read, go to bed. Boring I know, but I enjoy it completely. It seems though, that for the last few months or more, things haven't been quite as boring as I want them to be. Some of the things that happen to me are because I'm forgetful and I'm not that aware of what is happening around me. But other events are beyond my control.
So, Monday morn. A beautiful day by the way, the birds are chirping, the smog has temporarily disappeared and I've only thought about how decrepit my bod is a little. I'm fairly happily biking to work along Bloor Street and a car pulls out to turn left and it's in my way. A regular occurance and so I am quite prepared to bike behind the car and continue on my way. Unfortunately the driver is a nice guy and so he backs up...into the car behind him. And let me explain: anyone who bikes in Toronto will tell you that at least once a week he/she comes close to death's door because of drivers who talk on cellphones or just plain don't know how to drive. So hearing the crunch of two vehicles colliding would normally be music to my ears. But I don't get the satisfaction because this driver was being nice. That never happens in Toronto. So I stopped, which I should never have done. Thank good gawd I'm sixty. If I was any younger they would have torn me to pieces.
So on Tuesday I casually mention to a person at work that I must find a better route to get to work. And so Bruce (one of the nicest persons in the history of mankind by the way) tells me that his son loves to bike too and gets him on the phone and his son describes a new route to me. I'm not that great at writing down details but I managed to do it. So after work that day I follow the instructions and I'm quite impressed. I actually stopped at a pond and watched Canada Geese frolic. But unfortunately, I eventually ended up at a City of Toronto waste management site. Thank good gawd for the CN Tower (actually it's saved me many times) so I knew which I had to go. So I backtracked and by a fluke of all flukes I found a bike path that was headed east. I got home by nine o'clock exhausted and too tired to eat.
And Wednesday was uneventful even though I did nod off at work a few times.
Thursday: No prob.
Friday: I didn't heed the forecast. It said 60 kilometre winds by the afternoon. I've biked through that a thousand times. The *&))&%$ forecaster didn't mention the 453 kilometre gusts. As I finally limped into the beer store parking lot near home with bike, life, and limb somehow still intact, I bought one extra king size beer in celebration of me surviving the week.
I loved every single moment of it. And then this morn I was walking back from Tim Hortons and a cute, young gal on a bike smiled at me as she was biking by. It made my day. Hint to the Rest of the World: Life is way too short, enjoy it while it's here.
So, Monday morn. A beautiful day by the way, the birds are chirping, the smog has temporarily disappeared and I've only thought about how decrepit my bod is a little. I'm fairly happily biking to work along Bloor Street and a car pulls out to turn left and it's in my way. A regular occurance and so I am quite prepared to bike behind the car and continue on my way. Unfortunately the driver is a nice guy and so he backs up...into the car behind him. And let me explain: anyone who bikes in Toronto will tell you that at least once a week he/she comes close to death's door because of drivers who talk on cellphones or just plain don't know how to drive. So hearing the crunch of two vehicles colliding would normally be music to my ears. But I don't get the satisfaction because this driver was being nice. That never happens in Toronto. So I stopped, which I should never have done. Thank good gawd I'm sixty. If I was any younger they would have torn me to pieces.
So on Tuesday I casually mention to a person at work that I must find a better route to get to work. And so Bruce (one of the nicest persons in the history of mankind by the way) tells me that his son loves to bike too and gets him on the phone and his son describes a new route to me. I'm not that great at writing down details but I managed to do it. So after work that day I follow the instructions and I'm quite impressed. I actually stopped at a pond and watched Canada Geese frolic. But unfortunately, I eventually ended up at a City of Toronto waste management site. Thank good gawd for the CN Tower (actually it's saved me many times) so I knew which I had to go. So I backtracked and by a fluke of all flukes I found a bike path that was headed east. I got home by nine o'clock exhausted and too tired to eat.
And Wednesday was uneventful even though I did nod off at work a few times.
Thursday: No prob.
Friday: I didn't heed the forecast. It said 60 kilometre winds by the afternoon. I've biked through that a thousand times. The *&))&%$ forecaster didn't mention the 453 kilometre gusts. As I finally limped into the beer store parking lot near home with bike, life, and limb somehow still intact, I bought one extra king size beer in celebration of me surviving the week.
I loved every single moment of it. And then this morn I was walking back from Tim Hortons and a cute, young gal on a bike smiled at me as she was biking by. It made my day. Hint to the Rest of the World: Life is way too short, enjoy it while it's here.
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