johnrobe

I'm not a religious or superstitious man, but I honestly believe that your thoughts and deeds have consequences. The example that comes to mind particularly poignantly today involves a time that I wasn't very nice, and teased a friend.

That friend was Natasha, and she had a collapsible cart that she used to use to go and get her groceries. This made perfect sense, since she was living a fair distance from a grocery store and she didn’t have a car because she lived downtown. We knew that this bugged her a bit though, because Tash is cool, and hauling one of those grocery carts around is not cool. I used to bug her and say she should put racing stripes and streamers on it to be cooler, but I admit, I wasn’t trying to be helpful, I was trying to tease her a little. Over the years since then, Timmi and I took to calling that kind of cart, formerly called a “granny cart” generically, a Tash-cart. I don’t think Tash really minded, but she would have been justified if she bristled a bit.

Fast forward a few years when we moved into our house. The previous owners left a whole bunch of stuff, including our very own Tash-cart. We chuckled a bit at the time, but never used it until one day, right before some people were coming over for a barbecue, I realized I was out of propane. Not having a car myself, I picked up the propane tank and started the 15 minute walk to the Beaver gas station to get some propane (no need to mention the name of the gas station other than because it’s a Beaver gas station, and I am twelve). I was struggling with the tank because it was so awkward and that was when it was empty, and before I got to the end of the street I was dreading the idea of carrying it when it was full — then I remembered the Tash-cart!

I ran back to the shed and got our much-maligned Tash-cart and opened it up. Yep, it was exactly the right size for a propane tank. Getting propane turned out to be a breeze and I started my secret love affair with my Tash-cart. Whenever I needed to get something particularly heavy from the store, Tash-cart. Whenever I was getting something bulky, Tash-cart. I started making up excuses to use it because it really made things so easy. All the time, I was feeling guilty for teasing Natasha because not only was it mean to do at the time but to this day I was still calling all carts of that nature, and my much-loved one in particular, Tash-carts.

Well, today, I got my comeuppance. (As a side note, wow, Firefox 2.0’s spellchecker actually has the word comeuppance in it! As another side note, it does not have the word spellchecker).

We are having some friends over tonight and were going to be laying in some heavy supplies, so I talked Timmi (who has not joined me in the conversion from Tash-cart hater to Tash-cart lover) into taking the Tash-cart with us. That’s when I discovered ….

SOMEONE STOLE MY F—ING TASH-CART!

It was sitting on the porch in our perfectly nice neighbourhood, minding its own business, and now it’s gone!

I’m distraught. I’m upset. My hands are sore because we had to haul a whole bunch of groceries manually. And I want to know … what kind of jerk steals a Tash-cart off someone’s front porch!?!?!

Put out an APB! Call COPS! I will not rest until the Tash-cart thief is brought to justice!

Deep down though, I know this is all my fault because I teased Natasha years ago. I’m sorry, and I’ve learned the error of my ways, but I know that won’t bring my Tash-cart back. Karma, you are a bitch.

So not too long after they announced the Nintendo Wii, I got very excited about it. It was innovative, it was inexpensive… and I decided I wanted one.

You have probably seen the stories about Wii mania this holiday season, and I don't need to go the stories of lineups and craziness. I didn’t participate in any of that … I wanted a Wii, but I wasn’t willing to go to any real effort to get one, because I knew that they would be available for sale soon enough after Christmas.

From the looks of it though, it’s still pretty tough to find them as of the 28th — but not for me!

Timmi and I had been to Canadian Tire (no, not for moose urine) and on our way back, we went past an EB Games. Timmi suggested, optimistically, that we go in to see if they had any Wiis. I laughed and said we should just keep walking. She insisted, with just a hint of a funny look in her eye. I’ve seen her when she gets that look and I’ve learned to trust it.

I certainly didn’t expect there to be any Wiis in there, but I do enjoy going to EB Games whenever possible, so what the heck.

We went in and there was a line that ran the length of the store. Timmi immediately assumed it was because they had some Wiis. I figured it was because of the boxing week sales. Even asking someone who worked there was bad luck as far as I was concerned, so I just got into line. After 5 minutes or so, I was ready to leave — I figured it would be better to not know at all than to get up to the front, ask if they had any Wiis and then get laughed at for standing in line for 15 minutes to ask such a ridiculous question.

Timmi pointed out the Wii boxes on the shelf, but I said they were probably just for display and refused to get excited. Timmi said that although there were lots of people in line who had games in their hands, some didn’t, which meant they must be buying Wiis, and I said they were probably just buying stuff from behind the counter. Timmi then said she heard someone up ahead ask for a Wii, but I said it was just someone talking about it. Finally, someone at the counter looked toward the back of the store and asked Daniel for “One of them”. Timmi looked at me with a look of excitement and a certain something I have dubbed “I-told-you-so-itism” and said they had them! I said it must be something else. Finally Daniel walked out with a Wii box. Timmi beamed. I shrugged, said it was probably the last one. Timmi looked me square in the eye and said, “I know you… I know what you’re doing. Now you’re just trying to act casual so you don’t get your hopes up and jinx it.” I told her she was being silly — but she was totally right.

Finally, after 15 people in line ahead of me all did NOT get a Wii, I asked for one and they nodded, and asked Daniel to bring up “One of them”.

I was so excited that when they asked me if I wanted a game to go with the console, I said no, because I didn’t want to jinx it. Part of me was actually scared that if I delayed, they’d take it back or something.

Walking out of the store, I told Timmi she was right all along, then then called Mike, with whom I had an at least unspoken mutual “if you get the chance, buy me a Wii” pact, and told him about it. He asked if they had any more, and I said I didn’t know, but I was willing to brave the line again if he was interested. Suffice it to say he was. Since he was at work, he asked Shaver if he wanted one as well (oh yes he did), and asked if I could get two if possible. I said I’d do my best.

I went back in and braved the line a second time while Timmi went to Shoppers. The line was a lot easier when I already had one.

When I was almost at the front, a father and son came in and looked at the line. The Dad said, “You know son, I’m sure they don’t have them here, let’s go to Rogers. I think they sell Wiis” and then left before I could even stop them. Poor kid. I got to the front after 10 minutes or so and asked with a big voice for “two Wiis please”. The cashier (a different guy from the first time), told me they could only sell one per customer, and then went to the back to get one while the other cashier (who helped me the first time) shot me a decidedly “and you already have one” look.

While they were processing my credit card, Timmi walked into the store, with a big smile on her face (which she always has after going to Shoppers) which quickly turned into a puzzled expression as she tried to figure out the frantic, “I love you, but get out of here” gestures that I was sending her way, lest they confiscate my second and definitely against-store-policy Wii.

She got away before they noticed and I left to inform the Mikes that one of them was lucky and the other was not. Shaver was disappointed, but then Timmi volunteered to go in and try.

She braved the line and 10 minutes later came out with Mister Shaver’s Wii, which she then told me was the last one. We found out later that they had a total of 7, and I had bought 3 of them. In fact, apparently they were only supposed to sell 6, so technically, Shaver has a Wii that someone got into trouble over. Knowing Mike, I think that will make him enjoy it more.

Leaving the store, I was stricken with a sense of paranoia. What if someone who was in line behind Timmi saw we had more than one and got violent, chasing us down to take what was rightfully theirs? Oh, the scenarios you can make up in your mind when you’re overloaded with boxes filled with rare Japanese game consoles. We hopped in a taxi and made a clean getaway with our loot.

It was quite a day. The Wii is awesome — I’m really liking it so far — and I trust the Mikes are as well. I got something even better from all this, though. I learned that timing and luck are everything. Unless you have Timmi.

Overheard tonight at a Christmas party:

My Dad, who has alzheimers and thus no social filters, said to me, "John, do you wear a hat in the summertime?"

Me, who didn't really know where this was going, said, "Um… sometimes? Why?"

Dad: "Because you need to.”

And then it dawned on me … it’s a “you’re going bald, son” comment.

Great.

Merry Christmas everyone! If you need a last-minute gift idea for me, apparently a hat or toupee would be appropriate.

Have you seen the commercial where there are two aliens hitchiking at the side of the road and nobody's helping them, then finally the Energizer Bunny comes along and stops?

The gist of the rest of the commercial is that the aliens have crashed on earth and their spaceship won’t start, so they hook some jumper cables to the bunny and their ship starts and they are on their way. Cute.

Now, I have no problem with the commercial … the part that I have a problem with? As they are cranking the spaceship engine over with the help of the bunny, the word “Dramatization” appears on the bottom of the screen.

Come ON! Are there seriously lawyers somewhere who felt that unless they put a “Dramatization” disclaimer on the scene where the pink mechanical bunny jump starts the alien space ship someone might get the WRONG IDEA??? Gah!

Sure, when people are shattering glass eating tortilla chips or when every girl in the universe falls in love with the guy wearing a body spray, sure, put on a disclaimer on there, just in case someone thinks they’re going to do the same, but dammit, let’s give even the most idiotic person out there some credit and grant that they might not be able to sue if they can’t jump start a flying saucer with a toy bunny, please?

Merry Christmas everyone, don’t forget the batteries for your gifts!

Some are meant to wrap, and wrap greatly. Others, the sad and desperate, are very much not meant to wrap.

I am the latter.

Seriously, I have been wrapping gifts for over 30 years. Sure, I don’t run as fast as I used to, or do as many pushups, but generally speaking where skills are concerned, as I’ve grown older I’ve gotten better — partly due to practice, partly due to the lessons learned along the way.

Why isn’t it the same with with wrapping presents?

I sit here, at 2:46 in the morning, surrounded by what can only be described as festive chaos. Scraps of paper, bits of tape, forbidden kitten-alluring ribbons, and torn and discarded labels surround me. My Christmas gifts are all wrapped, crappily.

I remember a period in my life when I was actually good at this. Gifts that I wrapped were tight. The patterns on the wrapping paper lined up perfectly. Labels had little festive pictures drawn on them. Bows were works of art. And I never used more than 3 pieces of tape per package.

What has happened to me? One of the gifts I wrapped tonight has about 200 pieces of tape on it. It’s not something weird, like a rake or a bicycle — it’s a box. A simple box. Yet for some reason, I found it gangly and unwieldy. It thwarted my every attempt to encase it in brightly coloured paper. My solution was to tape that melonfarmer down until it was more tape than paper. Heck, it might be more tape than present now.

And then there are the mental mistakes. Sure, it’s late, and I had some (pretty fantastic) wine tonight, but there’s no excuse for some of these. After wrapping one of Timmi’s presents, I got out a tag, stuck it on the present, and wrote in a stylish and flowing hand, “To John“. I froze, and panicked. What was I supposed to do now? It was an adhesive label, to take it off would mean having to re-wrap, and as I’ve described already, I don’t do well with that option.

I could have stuck another label on, but that would have looked silly right? Plus I would have had to get another label. No, I was punchy enough to think that adding ” ’s wife, From John” on the end of my mistake was the best solution. I’m sure Timmi and the family will enjoy that one — but there’s no turning back now!

The problem is that I’ve been blessed and cursed to live with people who are MUCH better at wrapping gifts than I am. First, my brother, who could only be described as a child phenom when it came to these matters, and now Timmi, who wraps like she bakes, which is to say she wraps like a professional who should be on TV. Between these two talents, she’s a real double threat in the holiday season.

As nice as it is to have people around who not only CAN do the wrapping for me but do it about 100 times better and actually enjoy themselves, there is a major problem — unless I can get Graham and Timmi wrapping my presents to Timmi and Graham for me, I have to do a bit of wrapping myself, and now I’m out of practice and riddled by feelings of inferiority whenever I do bring out the materials and commence the holiday travesty that is my gift wrapping.

For those of you out there who will be receiving gifts from me this year (with the exception of Timmi) rest assured that when you get your gift and it is wrapped beautifully and artfully that part of my gift to you is having Timmi wrap it. It’s better for everyone this way.

Okay, how many of you "get" this t-shirt when you first look at it? Look at it a little longer.

It took Timmi and I quite some time, and I THINK we got it, and it's really sad! Are average passersby on the street supposed to get it?

See the comments if you want to see our guess on what it means.

So the other day, I went for lunch down in the food court, ordered a gyro, and had the following conversation with the nice girl at the wrap place:

Nice wrap girl: What would you like on that?
Me: Everything, but no tomatoes.
Nice wrap girl: (blank look) What?
Me: Everything, but no tomatoes.
Nice wrap girl: But why?
Me: Why what?
Nice wrap girl: Why no tomatoes?
Me: Uh…
Nice wrap girl: Tomatoes are really good.
Me: Well, I’m sure they are, but none for me thanks.
Nice wrap girl: (puzzled look) Really?
Me: Yes, honestly, no thanks.
Nice wrap girl: (earnest look) But tomatoes are really good for you.
Me: Oh, I know, but I don’t like them when they’re raw.
Nice wrap girl: (”you’re crazy, old man” look) Okay…

Nice wrap girl: (hesitating over the tabouleh) Do you want this?
Me: Yes, everything but the tomatoes please.
Nice wrap girl: (really really puzzled) But this has tomatoes in it.
Me: I know, and that’s fine. I don’t hate tomatoes, I just don’t like a lot of them.
Nice wrap girl: Are you sure??
Me: GAH!! Yes!!

Seriously, what’s the deal with this? Isn’t the customer always right? Or at least tolerated? I know I’m a little odd in that I don’t like raw tomatoes but I like cooked ones — but is it THAT weird or unusual? You’d think I just asked for a gyro with extra meat, hold the meat, or something like that.