theblogofthehandoftamm

Feeling much recovered, I was out scraping the 3mm of ice off the sidewalk and car this morning. It was about 7:45, what is usually a quiet hour on my street apart from the South American casual labourers waiting for the motorcade of white panel vans to pick them up.

Borrowing my neighbours chisel-like device, I was making little headway on the sidewalk but sweating out the toxins of unwellness when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the Five-oh. A long way from Hawaii, they were curb-crawling a little ways down the block.

With my natural love of the collective constabulary, I kept glancing over with them to see what was happening. Could it be that there was a domestic dispute in one of my neighbours houses? Was there a prowler on the loose? Did they suspect that I was the notorious Corso Italia Scrapist? If they knew anything of my reputation, they would have been well advised to call down to the Coffee Time to see if Officer Kelly could provide back-up when they got the courage to take me down.

After a time, they crawled a little further up the block, almost coming to a stop next to me. I looked the boys in blue in the eye to see if I could be of assistance with their enquiries but they moved a few houses up before stopping. They got out and knocked at the door five houses along. What could this be in aid of, thought I? I know those people; they’re pretty reasonable and well-behaved. There is a sometime gentleman caller who comes by the house with his city sanitation vehicle every now and again (always makes me laugh when someone uses a garbage truck to make personal calls in the evening -how can that be permissible?) but his activities seem more unethical than on the wrong side of the law.

The cops knock but no one answers. They knock some more and one goes around the back of the house. Nothing stirring. The lads get back in their squad car and sit. Then they leave, only to go around the block and wait a little further down, where they started. Keeping an eye out for sudden departures, I guess.

I scrape and sweat, I take care of the car windows and notice my wipers are in a state. Must do something about that. The cops continue idling and staking out.

I go inside for more coffee. The cops must decide to do the same as before my cup is empty, they’ve given up on whatever called them out on a frosty morning. Being the good citizen that I am, I’ll keep a closer watch on my neighbours in the coming days and report any suspicious activities here.

This morning I took up the mantle of representing myself in matters legal and went to my local court offices to follow up on my intention to contest the ticket I received two weeks ago in that outrageously corrupt sting operation.

Having been advised that wait times can be ridiculous for those who wish to have their day in court, I got myself to the place of proletarian protest for 8:30, a half-hour prior to opening. Not surprisingly, the line-up was about 40 people long, because other people must have received the same advice as myself. Or it was simply a matter of experience; I hate to seem judgmental, based solely on appearances, but the look of many of the assembled left me with the impression that they have more regular dealings with the court system than little ol’ innocent me.

This was soon deepened as I stood in line and overheard strangers take up conversation with one another and discussing the finer points of their cases, gambits that had proved successful in the past, and obscure points of law that might serve their needs. I was a total amateur in a group of experts in the field of delaying, reducing, or obliterating convictions. Many of those with traffic-related charges struck me as potentially cab drivers and contractors, who probably rack up minor infractions as part of the job. Still others conveyed more a sense of danger, and that their charges were likely more serious in nature. Perhaps failure to muzzle a pitbull, falling behind in restitution payments, or ignoring restraining orders. All walks of humanity and transgressors of the law were represented first thing of a raining Tuesday morning.

(more…)

What a weekend; no time for scribbling or organizing thoughts until this late hour. The following should be considered a refresher in many of the manly arts, as well as sage words of advice from the trenches of hard-won knowledge.

CUISINE
I BBQ’ed the goodness out of/into pork tenderloin, dogs, and burgers both veggie and carnivorous. I ate more of same at two other BBQs. I will be 275lbs by summer’s end if I don’t start turning down invitations to go swill beer and eat bratwurst four times a week. Note: I have three more BBQs in the coming week. Something inside is already atremble. My uncle made some rather uncharitable remarks about the area immediately north of my belt-line just yesterday and the guy checking my passport and boarding pass at the airport indicated I wasn’t looking so good last week. Do I throw in the towel or redouble my efforts?

I also made a veggie lasagna, from scratch, natch. Got to have my kids’ lunches/dinners at hand. More on that momentarily. I have pretty much mastered the scratch ‘gna, which is to say the result is very close to the intention.

HORTICULTURE
Lawn-mowing, weeding, planting of tomatoes, basil, and chard. The hands and tools got dirty several times over three days and it felt good to turn some soil. Less thrilling is the consideration that the yard looks almost exactly as it did before, for all my tilling. Here are two manly secrets to yardwork.
1 -rinse your tools after digging. It’s not just true for the boudoir; this works in the yard to keep things in top running order as long as possible.
2 -If you have depressions in your lawn, throw sod you cut from a flowerbed elsewhere on top. Don’t be a jerk and make it look nice, just pitch in grass on top of the existing turf, dirt side down. Shockingly, it mostly grows through with a minimum of unsightliness in between. This will not be as effective in the boudoir, I hasten to add.

FAMILY, THOSE WHO ARE LIKE FAMILY
An important part of summer is the added opportunities for socializing with family and those who we love in a similar way. We had several opportunities for such over the weekend and they were fun for the adults and enriching for the children. Two observations here are that you might not want to let your children be naked on the bouncy castle set up in the yard for a birthday, as it leads to… well, let’s just say it’s hard to make it make sense on the page. Lean closer to your screen to catch my vibes on this one. Also, there must be an age at which THC should no longer rhyme with garden party in one’s vocabulary. This leads to situations not unlike naturist bouncy castles, only with more sinisterly-coloured giggling. Beware.

TALKING TO THE POLICE
When a considerate officer of the law takes the time to show you the error of your ways in a non-aggressive manner, do not try to escalate the situation into an adversarial one by pointing out to him the flawed error of his logic. This is why tasers are popular with law enforcement officials –there’s no need to endure tiresome debates with arrogant civilians. You do not want to be naked when bounced into the local constabulary’s castle, I imagine it goes without saying.

PARENTING
Being a solo parent is not new to me, as I have had opportunity to practice it on many an occasion. But a Muskoka sales conference of some stripe means I’m at it again for the next few days. (the fact that I allowed my golf clubs to be driven away in making this happen means I’m surely an accomplice. And a fool.) Already the wagering has begun on how much I will have to rely on reinforcements and the beneficence of family and friends. What; you think I can’t hack a few days with only myself to rely on for adhering to accepted practices and policies and schedules? I’ve got half the cooking done already, there’s little need to clean over the course of ~90 hours and frankly, my castle needed to go clothing optional on weekdays too. If I have the strength, an update concerning the items broken in the house (vases, bones, spirits) will be coming in the wee hours of the coming days. Contain your excitement.

Photo is of disembodied arm at the park. Chilling. Prescient?