My First Signed Drawing

My family is busy cleaning up the old homestead. Part of me wishes to be there digging through the memories. There is one item that does mean a great deal to me. That item is pictured here. The photo was taken by my sister.

I drew this picture of a Spitfire after a conversation with family and friends about our ancestry. The topic almost invariably leads to the question, “Is there anyone famous in your family tree?” Well not directly. Rembrandt Van Rijn is one of the Netherlands most famous master painters and we are related to the Van Rijn family and coincidentally my father's family comes from the same place as the master himself. If I understand correctly he has no direct descendents so indirect is the best you're going to get. That of course led to the question whether any artistic talent had filtered down to anyone in the family. My dad said, “no,” and that stung a bit. I've always had some ability and at one time enjoyed drawing every chance I got.

At the time, I knew that if I said I was going to hide in my room to draw something, I would have been told not to waste time. I didn't tell anyone. I just went up and went to work. I found the picture in one of my dad's World War II history books and quietly started drawing. I had a framed Sunday school diploma on the wall and I wanted to take out the certificate and replace it with the picture. I didn't know how to make the switch but when I brought both downstairs to the living room and showed my parents that bit of work was done for me.

For most of the past thirty-six years that picture has hung in my old bedroom in my parents house. Apparently it was at some point transferred to the kitchen. It has suffered some water damage but from this picture it is still in remarkably good condition. It was drawn with a regular pencil and was not protected with any kind of fixative. Sunlight would've faded it badly but evidently it has been at least kept out of direct sunlight.

I'm looking forward to having it hanging on my own wall sometime soon. We'll see what can be done to keep it from deteriorating any worse than it already has.

Enough is Enough

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We broke down and increased the size of our Internet plan today. Granted until today we didn't know that Xplornet had a bigger plan. Their customer service leaves a great deal to be desired by the way. When they took away the unlimited plan we used to have (by upgrading their system and not offering it with a system that actually still worked), we were recommended the plan we were on. We've never been able to stay within that. We tried but there was always the last few days of the month when we would have minimal connectivity because they don't charge for overage they just slow the connection down to a crawl.

The increased cost is minimal. I just wish we'd known about and been put on an adequate plan from the start. It is hard to write online and promote your work when you're constantly worried about going over. There is an even higher plan than the one we switched to but I don't think we're going to use that much. Good to know it's there just in case.

I should have extra writing time over the next several days. It is my intention to make the most of it, starting this evening.

Starting Wrong

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This day was memorable for all the wrong reasons. It's coming close to a close and I'm still not sure I'm accomplishing anything. I know exactly when it went wrong though. It was when I opened my eyes and saw the dawn beginning to light the sky. Why didn't my alarm clock go off or how did I turn it off without waking up?

Of course nothing was ready for my hasty departure. My uniform pants were still hanging on the clothesline in front of the woodstove. At least they were dry. Seems like everything was working against me too. I rapid fire scraped the windshield of the van after having some trouble finding the scraper. Of course it fogged up and refroze before I got more than a few hundred feet down the road. Second round of scraping gave the glass time to warm up a bit more and I didn't have to do it a third time.

I managed to choke down a banana while bouncing across the Tantramar marsh. Thankfully my fifteen minutes late arrival didn't cause any great concern amoung the managers. I was more disturbed than anyone else. I absolutely hate being late for anything. It isn't who I am.

Punched in and ready for action, I opened the door to the electrical room. It was a mess but I've dealt with worse. Bringing the garbage to the corral though brought me another unpleasant surprise. I'm a little miffed with the person who started piling garbage next to the dumpster. The wouldn't bother me except the dumpster were not full. There's no excuse for not putting the trash where it belongs. I dealt with it and didn't end up wearing to much of it. By this time I was starting to run pretty seriously behind schedule.

In my rush out the door, I didn't check the schedule closely before heading to work. I was added to the team unloading the truck today. When that happens on a maintenance shift, I have to change my work priorities so that the friers all get filtered on time. I didn't know until it was a little late. They did without me until that chore was completed. The truck sure didn't get unloaded very fast. Went better once I got back there with them.

The rest of my work day was spent trying to keep the lobby looking presentable and putting away all the stuff that came out of the truck. Two chores on opposite ends of the building. Kept me running. It all got done so maybe the day wasn't a total loss. I just feel so badly out of kilter when I start the day in such a rush.

Soon I will sleep but first I have to figure out what went wrong with that stupid alarm clock. I have no plans for an encore tomorrow.

Trapped in an Elevator

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I have terrific sense of direction unless you stick me in an elevator. I do not know why those things screw up my internal compass. In smaller buildings I actually prefer taking the stairs. Granted I've had other elevator encounters that cause this.

Back when I was a young bachelor living in the Toronto area on the top floor of a very tall building, I got a lesson in elevators from my younger brother Jake. Apparently a lot of old elevators can swing around inside the shaft and grind against the concrete walls while they are in motion. On the way to my apartment Jake and I were crashing our bodies from side the side trying to see if this applied to the more modern ones we were riding in. Not the most mature thing to be doing but hey we had this need to know at the time. It didn't work, so no harm done.

Some time after this incident I had the bright idea to try something else. I decided to try jumping as the elevator began its descent to see how much airtime I could get. In the process I got quite a bit of bounce out of the cables, so I started jumping up and down seeing how much I could get the elevator to bounce. Evidently there is some kind of sensor on the cables in case they break that engages the emergency brake on the elevator. Had the elevator cables actually broken this would have saved my stupid carcass. In this case my journey ground to a halt somewhere between the fourteen and the fifteenth floor. Oh crap. How am I going to explain my way out of this one?

I'm not a very patient person. I didn't feel like waiting all night for someone to rescue me. Kids in the building pushed the emergency button on those things all the time and they were for the most part ignored. I didn't want to go deaf either. Why do those things have to ring inside the elevator instead of the superintendents office? I'm the one pushing the fool button. I don't need to hear the bell. My potential rescuers need to hear it and they aren't inside the elevator. I have no idea how long I might have waited but I was ready to take matters into my own hands if possible.

I managed to wedge my fingertips far enough around the edge of the door to start pulling it open. Elevators have an inner door that's part of the elevator itself and an outer door that stays with each floor. I got the inner one open not sure if that would do me any good. What I saw was a whole bunch of mechanical stuff that didn't mean much to me. Had to think about it for awhile. There was a big sheet of metal that had the number fourteen on it. I clued in. The last number to flash on the floor indicator had been fourteen before it had gone black. A little bit of fiddling and that sheet slid out of the way affording me a view of the fourteenth floor hallway. I worried that the elevator might suddenly start moving again before making a quick leap to safety. I ran down the hall laughing like an idiot. I took the stairs to a different floor and then caught the other elevator to complete my journey. I felt like I'd gotten away with one that time. I'm just glad I didn't have to wait for rescue and explain anything.

Dreaded Appointment

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The harsh reality is that like a lot of Canadians, I've been too broke to visit the dentist in quite a long time. My wife's diligent hard work has paid off though and we have found the “Tooth Fairy” program in New Brunswick and we are impoverished enough to qualify. Since I have a crater that needs very badly to be addressed, I got to be the first in the family to go.

I was not looking forward to this at all and maybe it was a good thing I had passengers on the journey who needed to visit Moncton for another reason. We arrived at the Oulton College Dentistry Clinic as scheduled. I'm terminally punctual, which is a family trait.

As usual I had to fill out a questionnaire and then I was greeted by the dental instructor, who gave me a brief run down on how things would proceed. He advised me that no matter how bad my teeth were he'd seen far worse. In no time at all I was in the chair with a bunch of dental instruments in my mouth.

“How often to you brush?”

I elected to be honest and told him infrequently. When I occasionally spit out part of an old filling or piece of a tooth and feel like they're crumbling anyway, I feel like, what's the point? Flossing – I have a different excuse. I shred floss rather than clean between my teeth. He could see that.

“When I look in your mouth, that's not what I'm seeing. What do you do? Eat fifteen apples a day or other hard veggies?”

“Well I try to eat those things regularly.” Saves us the work or cooking some of them.

“ You're a perfect example of why people should be doing that. You teeth look good.”

I was not expecting that. Yes my crater tooth is a lost cause but I'm not expected to lose any other teeth. I've lost three fillings and only have one new cavity that isn't critical yet. He figures that the Tooth Fairy program will fix them and they'll be good for fifty plus years if I mend my ways and take good care of them. That's great because I don't expect to live to 104.

“Do you grind your teeth at night?”

“I don't remember anyone ever telling me I did.”

“They're probably just being nice.”

That would be Francine and yes I asked her when I got home and I do grind them at night sometimes. When I told him I remember my younger sister did, he said it ran in families and it's related to stress. I don't have any stress. On the bright side Joanne and I can probably blame this on my parents. There is noticeable wear from this on some of my teeth.

Overall the visit went very well. I know where I stand. They will call to make appointments to make the repairs. I do get to go back in two weeks for a three hour cleaning. Some student will do the work an instructor will inspect grade and if necessary correct the work. It takes time but the price is right. Francine has already passed information to a friend at work who likely qualifies for the program as well and didn't know about it. One thing that does irritate me in Canada is that we often have programs to help people but finding out about them is like getting your teeth extracted.

Taxing the Super Wealthy

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Bit of a random rant today. This is brought on by the continued political news south of the border and the results of our last round of Canadian elections. Our federal Liberal party did make noises about increasing taxes for the rich. I'm a big skeptic.

I'm in New Brunswick where we have a Liberal provincial government and as far as I can tell they and their federal buddies are quite happy with each other. I don't see any efforts in this province to tax the super rich more than they are already being taxed. This budget that was brought in over the past month increases the HST. That's a tax increase on the rich and the poor and it doesn't even begin to solve the problem here. Where is the relief for the poor in Canada's poorest province? Is this the wonderful type of solution that will be foisted on the whole country?

Let's see the federal government actually increase the percent income tax for the nations super rich. Even if it does happen the skeptic in me knows that this will not increase the amount these people are contributing to the nation's budget. They'll cry rivers over it, might even make threats to try and scare everyone but in the end they won't be paying more. If your income is hidden from the tax man through legal loopholes the percentage tax paid makes no difference at all. They can publicly claim how much they paid in taxes. That public claim will not include their hidden income and won't show you all the government incentives their companies received to operate. So the numbers the average Joe like you and me will see are completely meaningless.

If you really want the rich to pay their fair share of the taxes you have to close the loopholes that are allowing them in some cases to effectively pay no income tax at all. The skeptic in me doesn't think that is ever going to happen.

I don't believe our politicians have any concept of what it is like to be poor. They are completely out of touch both liberal and conservative. We get advice on saving money in tough times like, “only eat in a restaurant once per week” and “it's more important to pay for your subsidized government housing than it is to buy food”. I remain skeptical of any solution at this point. I really feel sorry for my friends south of the border. You might get to choose a president between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. Don't expect anything to improve for awhile. They are both part of the problem and not part of any solution.

I Have a Filter

Believe it or not there are stories I can't tell on my blogs. There are a number of reasons that might prevent me from telling.

I'd say the number one reason for not telling a story has to do with friendship. If I think something has the potential to damage a friendship it doesn't get told. Even if I think something is really funny, I won't embarrass or humiliate someone on purpose. That isn't to say I might not inadvertently do that. I've had to apologize for stupid remarks of mine in the past. I don't like hurting people and I really don't like having to tell people I'm sorry.

Another filter is avoiding something that might get me in trouble on the job. That would include things that might close doors to future employment. I've seen some pretty stupid things get said on social media. To date I have not been a casualty of my own writing. I don't intend to start.

Those two filters conspired yesterday to keep me from writing anything. I could not think of a single story that wouldn't have some negative impact somewhere. I finally gave up and went to bed.

Those two areas aren't my only filters. I tend to stay away from politics and religion for the most part. It isn't that I haven't got opinions, I just don't desire to cross swords with people over those views. I see plenty of that online and I'm not tempted to participate.