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Humour is a medicine like no other! To be in a room and hear a giggle start to erupt or to catch someone's eye as you are about to smile, is a life enhancing experience. So laugh - loud and often. Laugh at yourself, laugh at life. Find the humour in the ordinary and fill your life with fun. Off To Work and Loving It Being happy in your daily routine is usually considered by many to be essential. After all, why get up in the morning if the day will be spent at something you don’t enjoy? I’ve read surveys and statistics that show that at least half the population is not satisfied with their occupation. Can you imagine the highways during rush hour being filled with cars carrying people to places they don’t want to go? To these cynics I say "Not in my neighbourhood!" While driving the short 15 minutes to our local office I find that the overwhelming number of commuters do in fact love their jobs. How can I tell this without a questionnaire? It’s easy. I have observed that the majority, without exaggeration, will do just about anything to get to work on time – even if it means risking their own and others’ lives. They do not waste time with turn signals. They use their horns to warn others to get out of their way. They squeeze the last few inches of pavement from a merge lane to advance quicker. They change lanes repeatedly to gain one or two car lengths. They prevent other traffic from entering through the on ramps which would slow them down. They tailgate to encourage drivers to speed up. They use hand gestures and verbal messages to help other drivers understand their position. They even drive on the shoulder of the road when necessary. And, of course, they exceed the speed limit as often as possible. Friends tell me it’s more likely these people are naturally aggressive or have just left home late and are rushing to be on time. Others have even suggested such utter nonsense as children delaying their parents or some having had earlier car trouble. I prefer to think that these folks are very aware of their actions and take responsibility by making sure that they arrive at work on time. They don’t want to miss one moment of anticipated pleasure in their workplace and are willing to sacrifice courtesy and safety to be there. So don’t be quick to judge someone who displays rude or destructive behaviour during rush hour. After all, you never know if that individual is simply nuts about their career and anxious to spend another blissful day, gainfully occupied at their chosen pastime of pleasure. Daryl Clarke, July 1998 Men – The Official Sidewalk Monitors Recently, on a glorious fall day, I strolled through the "prettiest town in Canada", Niagara-on-the-Lake. At first it was easy to wander the sidewalks or pop in and out of the little stores lining main street, but as more tourists arrived the streets became crowded and harder to maneuver. What struck me was that the problem was not the people moving around but the collection of men waiting. They were sitting on benches, leaning on buildings, propped against trees, peering into windows and just standing – everywhere. Some were holding bags already filled with purchases, others chased children who escaped from strollers, some smoked, some chatted to other men. Many just stared blankly with a glazed look of hopelessness. Women were busy talking, looking, buying, comparing, choosing, trying on, matching and running in and out of shops. But not the men. A father and two bored teenage boys stood yawning outside the Angel Treasures with it’s incredible selection of angel gifts. A virtual posse of men with arms across chests and deepening frowns stood outside the "Christmas" store. Likewise, little clothing boutiques and gift stores had a sidewalk line up of testosterone. I saw no women standing around waiting. They were all satisfied with the opportunity at hand. They didn’t care if there were no power tools to try out or demonstrations on dry walling. The lack of hot dog vendors was very appealing since pastry houses were abundant. When I did find men in stores they fit two categories. One set walked around holding things. "Honey, just hold these bags while I see if I can find a price on this". "Here, hold my purse while I measure these two sweaters". "Will you stop wandering away – I need you to hold on to these things because there’s no shopping baskets left". As a wife who "held" things for years – wallpaper, step ladders, wood, rope, etc.- I was amused at the turn of events I observed. Then the other set of men – my kind of guy. They were picking up sweet little things and suggesting this and that for mother or the kids. They were impressed with the selection of ornaments in every possible theme and they hummed along with the Christmas carols. They chatted with sales clerks and other customers while happily paying for their purchases. They rushed about the stores with wide eyed enthusiasm looking for bargains but pleased to just be there. Oh to shop with such a man! Alas, there were few of these creatures inside the stores. The majority of men did sidewalk duty and never once looked happy about it. We need men to shop with us to hold our parcels and remind us to eat lunch. But maybe we can train our young sons to take on this responsibility with a more creative approach so that they don’t grow up to be statues on a busy sidewalk somewhere in Canada’s prettiest little town. Daryl Clarke, November 1998 Shopping With An Attitude Recently I’ve begun to do my own grocery shopping. This has been a big learning experience and against the backdrop of seasoned shoppers I look pretty pathetic. It began when I entered the store and couldn’t find the shopping carts. They are kept outside. Back out to the parking lot and try in vain to get a cart to detach from it’s partners. Of course, I didn’t have a quarter and stood begging like a pauper until someone took pity on me. Back in the store I began my journey. Since I’m not used to shopping I had a short list which I memorized and quickly forgot when I started the car. No matter, I’ll see it in the store and remember it then. For some reason I decided to collect the produce first so I’ll have to move everything around as I pick heavier, bulkier boxes later on. You can’t put laundry soap on top of bananas. The first rule I learned is that shopping carts must be parallel parked along the counters. Do not leave carts on an angle or blocking the aisle in any way. Other customers use these for bumper cars while making rude noises and shaking their heads. Even if you can reach the item from the centre of the aisle it is still likely to get you in trouble if you try to lean instead of moving over. It’s sort of like driving in the fast lane while you’re putting on lipstick. The next amazing feat was how quickly the regular crowd can separate the top of those hermetically sealed plastic bags. After fumbling with the wrong end for ten minutes I had to rip it open much to the delight of the clerks. Filling the bag is not meant to be a long, drawn out affair. Apparently, with practice one can scoop up perfect mushrooms, slip them in the bag and be out of the way in a matter of seconds. I held up a long line of mushroom lovers only to see that the prepackaged ones looked better. Thinking I was now on my way to success I then began the search for twist ties. They were all in little round containers that could only be reached by hovering over freshly sprayed fruit. So now my shirt is all wet and I’m holding a plastic bag that looks like I chewed it apart. My frustration mounted when I realized the fruit and vegetables on display have better travel agents than I do. How could I have something in my fridge that only days before basked in the Chilean or California sun? After half an hour I gave up and went home without getting what I needed. The next time I’ll take a list and probably a friend with a degree in modern grocery store behaviour. Daryl Clarke, January 1999 |
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