Thursday, January 31, 2013
I have made meals today and made and delivered tea to her. Kept her company. But above all, I have left her alone to sleep.
It is now past 9:30pm. Tomorrow I shall return to work just in time to meet the weekend. I was slated to visit my mother this weekend to take her shopping and all the rest. But if Patricia is not on the mend by the weekend, I should stay here.
I am getting quite a bit of feedback on yesterday's post, all about whether one should put one or two spaces at the end of each sentence when you type something.
Two spaces looks so much better to me. I am unaware of any standard at my work regarding this burning issue, and they have standards on everything. I have never had my boss, or any boss I have ever had in my entire working life, take me aside and tell me to put one space or two spaces after each sentence. I guess I will remain rebellious and keep using two. I have always been a scamp that way.
Deborah wrote that at Acadia University that she was specifically told to put two spaces after each sentence, and has carried this practice over to her working life. Disabusing her of this habit would be a challenge for her, as it would be for me. I would spend my time wondering what all the fuss was about. Anyway, it might surprise Deborah to learn, as it did me, that many professors at Acadia are now making it a point to tell students to put just one space after a period. I do not know what the consequence would be to students who ignored this edict and used two. I know universities all put a great deal of emphasis on academic integrity. I can't imagine that it would extend to how many spaces one uses after a given sentence. Would a student lose marks if he did not heed his professor's commandment regarding how many spaces to use after the end of a sentence?
Once again, I am surprised that people would have so much time on their hands that they would write in favour of either choice. If that is all you have to write about in life, then your life is as carefree as we would all want ours to be. If your blood is boiling right now, if your bile is rising, if your gorge is buoyant, then I'm sorry, but you don't have much to worry about in your life.
I think I've exhausted this topic. I probably did last evening.
See you tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
I didn't go to Toastmasters after work tonight. The roads were poor, and Patricia made it clear that my presence at home would be appreciated. So I drove home, only to be dispatched to Wendy's to get her a burger. I did. And I managed to spill the container of iced tea all over the floor on the driver's side. Good times. Good times.
I had lunch today with a couple of old friends from my previous work. It was nice to see them again. They are two women and they have the same first name. Reminds me of my first job after university. I was working in an office where, I kid you not, every guy was named either Mike or Dave. It didn't help me much when someone would tell me to go and talk to Dave about something. "Which Dave?", I would ask. They would just point to the desired Dave, or Mike, and leave me to my own devices. I had a few unplanned conversations with folks when I got one Dave, or Mike, confused with another Dave, or Mike. At least I got to learn everyone's name, just in time to come thisclose to being fired. Long story.
Go back and re-read the first paragraph of this post. You may notice something a bit different. I only put one space after each period marking the end of a sentence. I was reading during my lunch hour about how one should never, under any circumstances, use two spaces after a sentence. I was taught to put two spaces following a period, but that was so mid-20th century. We are supposed to embrace the one space trend.
Here's the article I read today.
I wish my life were so bereft of incident that I could actually devote some time to thinking about the article, maybe even rebut it. That people have not just the time to write such a piece but be passionate about supporting their position concerning something that is a trifle at best, and a pet peeve at worst, is vaguely troubling to me. But some people are like that.
Some people get upset over terminal commas. A terminal comma is the last comma used in a list. So, in the next sentence, the terminal comma would be after C. A, B, C, and D are the first four letters of the alphabet. Believe it or not, there are folks who argue that there should be no comma after the C in the above list. They go back and forth, to and fro, up and down, left and right, about the viability of the presence or the absence of this comma. It must be nice to have a life where that is the greatest thing you have to worry about.
Let's see here. Tomorrow is Thursday. The last time I checked, that presages Friday, which heralds the weekend. I look forward to that. Don't you?
I guess that's it for tonight.
See you tomorrow, my lovelies.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
My plan is to go at least once a week for a couple of weeks, and then go up to two, and maybe even three times. I will work on my cardio extensively before I consider weights or other things.
I am mentioning this here on the Blog because I want to put it out there that I am doing this. I must and I will consider my health, which includes eating better and exercising more. I do not have an excuse for not doing this, but make a promise to you now that I will do this.
The spin class this evening was challenging. I hadn't done one in 7 or 8 months, and my legs creaked and moaned and begged me to stop. But I persevered, and I felt pretty good afterward. Pretty good and pretty damned hungry. Cardio burns a lot of calories and makes me feel famished.
I stopped off to Costco on the way home and got my glasses fixed. The frames suck; every few months I have to go in and have them re-tightened. After they were fixed, I had one of the famous Costco hotdogs. It tasted like more, but I restrained myself.
When I got home I ate a bagel with cream cheese. Patricia was hungry, and I was still peckish, so I made an omelet at 8 o'clock at night. We shared it. After that, I was no longer hungry.
I have Toastmasters Wednesday night, unless the freezing rain they're threatening comes to pass, in which case the meeting might be canceled. If I can find a spin class Thursday night after work, then I will go to it.
I'm on a roll. A spin. And I will tell you all about it as I progress.
See you tomorrow.
Monday, January 28, 2013
I've had a headache all night and slept the night away.
i don't feel like eating tonight.
Newbie has been with me all night, as if he knew I wasn't feeling well.
Patricia is off work with pneumonia.
Yep! It's my turn.
See you tomorrow. I hope.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
By all rights, I should be as sick as a dog. As I mentioned earlier, there are a number of sick folks at my work who heroically came into work over the last week or so. And with Patricia's ongoing cold, and my proximity to her, I should be down for the count. But here I am.
I spent several more hours today doing laundry. While that was happening, I was in my home office watching a couple of movies. I watched "28 Weeks Later". The running time was about 96 minutes, but it felt like 28 weeks. Danny Boyle keeps
I don't care very much, but it is nice to see more local content on local television. Global is launching a new morning show starting at 6am. It is about time that Breakfast Television (excuse me, "CTV Morning Live") had some competition. The cool thing is that, even at the cottage, where we do not have cable or satellite, and likely never will, we will be able to watch this new Global morning show if we want to, as it will be on an over-the-air channel.
I may not be sick, but I frigged up my right arm in the last few hours. If I move it a certain way, I feel a stabbing pain in the upper part. But don't worry, folks. This is not affecting my typing.
What else is shaking around Casa Bevboy? Not much. Newbie is impatiently waiting for me to turn in. Typical cat. I wonder if he was a woman in a previous life?
Did I mention last week that I have booked my newest blog interview? No? Well, I have booked my latest blog interview. This interview has been over a year in the making, folks. The reason why it has been gestating so long will become very clear when you read it in its entirety. The sitdown is a week from Thursday. It promises to be a very controversial interview. I will leave it at that.
I guess that it's for tonight.
See you tomorrow, all 4.7 of you.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
I slept in late today, or rather, Saturday. Not as late as Patricia, who is still struggling with her cold. I am pleased to report that it hasn't hit me just yet. I remain confident that I will fall prey to it sooner rather than later. Between all the people who are coughing and gobbing at my work, and Patricia here at home doing the same thing, it is just a matter of time. I will report here every day regarding any changes in my health. Not that you care.
Newbie has been close to me all day. He is with me on the bed right now, all curled up and mostly asleep. I will be soon, too.
Patricia and I discovered that City TV is available through Eastlink's on Demand. A couple dozen different tv shows we can stream. I have fewer and fewer reasons to leave the house on weekends. The cats are happy.
Sunday will be busy here. I will be concentrating on laundry while Patricia is cleaning either the kitchen or bathroom. It means getting up before noon. The cats will supervise us, probably disdainfully. I wouldn't have it any other way.
That's it for tonight, you 4.7 friends of mine.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Patricia took another sick day today. When I think about how sick she has been this week, and how many people at my work are coughing and gobbing, I feel doomed. My chances of coming down with this cold are good, and getting better all the time. I should buy lottery tickets.
I discovered a usb port on the front of our cable boxes this evening. I plugged in a thumb drive, but nothing happened. Does anyone know why cable boxes have usb ports on them?
Let's see here.
Newbie has been circumspect all evening. All over me when he wanted to eat something. Now, he is on the couch next to me, probably waiting for me to go to bed so that he can follow me there. He will have to wait a little while longer.
I am trying to figure out what I will do this weekend. I know there's work to be done around the house, quite a bit of in fact, but how much of it will actually get done? In all likelihood, not that much.
I need to wash more underwear. When you wear a fresh pair every day, you go through a lot of foundation garments. Should I adopt the routine developed by some guys, who wear their undies inside out from time to time, or do not wear them at all? Your feedback, please.
Newbie is looking at me in that way that only a cat can do. A mixture of admiration, love, and condescension. Maybe a guy who reviews Shakespearian plays for a living could muster up that combination, but I don't know any folks with that unique skill set, so I am speculating.
I guess I'll call it a night.
It's a night.
Think I've used that joke before.
See you tomorrow.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Patricia returned to work today. To "celebrate", I treated her to breakfast at the Ardmore Tea Room. I had something with meat. Patricia did, too.
Had the second part of the webinar today. Bursting with new-found knowledge, I produced all manner of reports.
After work, Patricia wanted me to meet her at Planet Organic on Quinpool Road. In the States they have a series of grocery stores called Whole Foods Market. They sell all kinds of organic this and free-range that. Things are pretty expensive there, to the point where some people call it "Whole Paycheck Market". Ha ha.
Planet Organic isn't that far off the mark either. Patricia spent nearly 100 dollars there this evening. Everything fit into two cloth shopping bags. Comfortably. Things she put back without purchasing included a pasta salad no bigger than a thimble for 5 dollars. They sold chicken salad sandwiches made of special chickens or something. Six dollars if you don't mind. A veggie sandwich was a mere five dollars. A bag of Just US coffee that would set us back $11 most anywhere else goes for $13 there. I guess it's extra special coffee, even though it's in the same kind of bag.
She did get a bag of cereal that contains a nearly obscene amount of roughage. After eating a bowl of it, you had better have a clear path to a washroom, any washroom, even one not for your sex. Desperate times call for desperate measures. The cereal cost more than most of the items of clothing I wear to work. Even the Kraft Dinner substitutes are expensive there.
Eventually, my house will be paid for. At that time, I will have substantial equity at my disposal. At that time, I can get a reverse mortgage or something and go to Planet Organic and buy one of everything. I will feast on food stuffs whose names I cannot pronounce, made of things I wouldn't recognize if I saw them. I will wash my hair with shampoo that will make my hair that much more beautiful than it is by default. And the antiperspirant! It will be like flying in the clouds.
I look forward to it.
After we left Planet Organic, I very gingerly place the victuals in the trunk of my car. We wandered over to the vet place next door and got cat food. We had run out of the dry stuff a couple of days ago. The cats were not impressed.
We returned to the car and drove the very short distance to go have dinner at... The Ardmore Tea Room. Twice in one day. What are the odds? I had corned beef and cabbage (yes, I have a clear path to the washroom). Patricia had fish and chips. They included a soup of the day, a hot beverage, and rice pudding for dessert.
We returned home. I fed the cats, who swarmed around the food like locusts descending on a frightened cow. Patricia went to bed, very early. I came down here to my home office, my sanctum sanctorum, my Fortress of Bevboyitude. I ended up watching "28 Days Later". I hadn't seen it in years. I had forgotten how good that movie is. I haven't seen the sequel yet, "28 Weeks Later". Where are "28 Fortnights Later" and "28 Months Later"? Are they in the works? Would that guy from "Ain't It Cool News" know?
It is now 10:30. I have to do some online banking and turn in. Gonna be a long day tomorrow. At least it will be Friday.
See you tomorrow, my 4.7 readers!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
I had Toastmasters this evening. It was a good meeting. A woman in the club did a speech that was well received. Table topics was great fun. We were given job titles and we had to explain to the members why we would be a good candidate for that job. Mine was "chicken sexer".
I told them the true story of how my parents' former neigbhour kept free range chickens. Extremely free range. They would wander around the entire neigbhourhood, and some of them would end up on my parents' lawn. They would scratch at the lawn and defecate on it. Very upsetting to my parents.
What actually happened is that I called animal control, and a woman from that fine division of the Kings County government parked her car across the street from my parents' place and sat there waiting for the birds to run amok. When they did, she ran over to the woman who owned the property and made sure that this would not happen again. The woman moved away not long after that. Went back to Switzerland or wherever she was from. Good riddance.
My own tale divulged from the above. I explained that my dad and I became very good at picking up the chickens and seeing which ones were boys and which ones were girls. The boys, we kept for dinner. The girls were allowed to allowed to leave, where the chickens could literally come home to roost. I managed to use a cliche as its actual meaning. Points for that.
People laughed, but not as much as the member who wrote about how he would be the best cow inseminator in the world. His arm was very long and was at just the right level with the cow's privates that he would not have to reach up or down. His arm would not get tired as readily; it was a win-win situation for him and his bovine clients.
I realize I don't talk about what we do at TM very much. I figure most of you don't care. But tonight's meeting had plenty of gentle humour that made most of chuckle more than a few times.
A long time ago, I heard a member of another club say that even though he had been in TM for 30+ years, and even though he might at first blush not want to go to a meeting, he always felt better after a meeting than he did going in. That has been my experience about 99% of the time. I don't always look forward to every meeting, but once I'm there, I feel fine and participate with about as much enthusiasm now as I did when I joined more than 20 years ago. It is hard to convey that to someone who's never gone to Toastmasters, or to someone who has only been a member for a short time. But we old-timers go for a reason.
Besides, it gets us away from our spouses for a few hours.
Patricia made only the best meat loaf in the history of such a dish. If they made meatloaf in ancient Rome, it would not have been as good as what she made tonight. I feel sorry for you if you didn't have any of it tonight.
And, I can announce that I have booked my first blog interview for 2013. It will take place on February 7th at 5:30. This interview will be perhaps my most unusual one. You will see what I mean after it takes place. And, it promises to be my most controversial one. You will have to wait and see what I mean.
You guys have a wonderful night.
See you tomorrow.
PS: I put this on my twitter and facebook tonight, but I thought you would might find it interesting to see how polite border services agents can be. Not.
I realize there are 2 sides to every story, but when one hears over and over and over about how shabbily they were treated by these border agents, one can't help but think there is something to it.
He said, off topic.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
The weather this morning wasn't very good, so I hopped in my car extra early. Patricia was still sick, so I didn't have to wait for her to put her face on or decide at length what to wear, only to decide to put something else on at the last minute. You know what I mean, fellas.
I got to work around 6:45, and began work right away. Shortly after I arrived, the heavy snow hit, and I began to pity the poor fools who had to drive in that crap.
Since I got there so early, I left work around 3:30 and got home just after 4. Patricia was surprised to see me, nearly shocked in fact. I hadn't announced my early arrival. And Newbie was delighted to see me, nearly making eye contact with me for a split second. I take my small victories in stride.
Patricia had been too sick to prepare dinner tonight. There were some leftovers, so we ate them. The headache that had begun to affect me in the afternoon didn't go away, so I took an hour's nap.
Patricia was dead to the world when I returned to the living room, so I went downstairs and surfed on one of my desktops until I heard her stir. I had my shower as Newbie was curling his nose at me in that way he has.
Tomorrow will be another fun drive to work. I really enjoy this time of year. And, since I live with someone who's sick this week, I will doubtless get what she has, just in time for the weekend. I can hardly wait for that. Yippee.
How was your day? And did you have fun driving home in the fine Nova Scotia weather? And do you like my new hairstyle? I thought I'd try something new.
See you tomorrow.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Long day at work today. I got a call this morning from my sister telling me that my mother had had some chest pains over night and was off to the hospital. I was pretty stressed for the next 4 hours until 2:30, when my mother called and reported that she was back home and doing much better. Phew!
The stress triggered a migraine headache, which has been percolating all evening. A nap after dinner didn't help matters. I am such a whiner, aren't I?
Patricia took a sick day today; there has been a cold going through her work, knocking people on their buttocks, and now it's her turn. Which means that will get the cold soon. Yeah. I'm a whiner.
To cheer myself up, I will be up until after 11pm watching "The Following", the show in which Kevin Bacon tracks down a serial killer.
What's going on in your world? And, what are you wearing, anyway? It helps me visualize my 4.7 readers if I know what duds they're wearing when they read the blog? Even if you read this post 6 months after I write it, go ahead and tell me what you're wearing. Type it slowly to give me the full effect. That will really cheer me up.
See you tomorrow.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
I made breakfast each morning. I did a ton of laundry on Friday and Saturday, so much so that the two hampers are overflowing, and there are still quite a few clothes downstairs that I couldn't carry. I washed the dishes today. And, now, it would appear that I have a stomach bug. I will spare you the details.
Tomorrow, assuming I am not puking my guts out, I will return to work, fully rested and ready to confront another week of labour. Is it time to retire yet?
I have got a fair amount of response to my latest "Early Bevboy" post, from last night. Dawn Sloane has rediscovered vinyl in the last few months. Jim David and Deborah Eaton both chimed in with remarks. And I may get some more yet.
Newbie is next to me on the bed. He was with me this afternoon as well when I took a nap. At one point, I woke up for a moment and he was nestled up against me, as if I were protecting him somehow. Cats are weird sometimes.
There's very little going on of note in my world this evening. Sorry about that.
See you tomorrow.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
This series, which appears only slightly more frequently than Halley's Comet, is about Bevboy's early years. Little stories and vignettes about his past that helped make him the Bevboy he is today.
As promised back in the previous entry in this series, I will now tell you about the first prize I ever won on the radio.
It was August of 1977. Of course, I was listening to the radio one Thursday evening. There was a feature called Artist Review, if memory recalls. This was on Annapolis Valley Radio, 1490 on the AM dial.
The host of the feature was an announcer who went by the name of Wally Milan. If you go back and read my Moe Dunn interview, you will see that Wally Milan was not his real name. I have no idea what became of him. But in the late 1970's, he was a very popular announcer on AVR. We all listened to him. He referred to his car as his gray ghost. He had little zingers like, "Wally? Who? Wally!" I have a few airchecks of him here at my home and really must digitize them before the cassette tapes disintegrate.
Anyway, that evening, the Artist Review was about KISS. If you answered a trivia question about these people (whose music I loved back in the day and can't bear to listen to today) and were the correct caller, you would win a copy of their latest album, hot off the presses. This was back in the day when they would produce two albums a year.
As it turned out, I knew the answer to the question. I raced to the phone. It was a rotary dial phone, so I dialled the number as quickly as I could. I got through! I correctly answered the question and won the prize. My name was announced on the air, which meant that the bullies would perhaps leave me alone for a few hours when school resumed in a few weeks.
The prize would be waiting for me at the radio station. They were and are on Oakdene Avenue in the lovely town of Kentville.
This created a small problem. It would be years before I got my driver's license. My dad was at work every day. My mother didn't drive. My older sister was... God knows where, doing God knows what. Probably working in some capacity. This meant that I would have to ride my bike from my house in Port Williams to the radio station, a distance of perhaps four miles. Not a big deal.
I called a friend of mine. He was a friend because he had not followed me to my new junior high school the previous year. He went to another one. So, he wouldn't have been in a position to bully me. I asked Chris if he would mind riding with me the next day to pick up my record. He agreed.
The following afternoon, I drove my bike to his place in Port Williams, about a mile from my parents' place. From there, we drove directly to the radio station. This was not that long a ride. My legs were in good shape from all the cardio I got from bike riding. And the actual drive was on Belcher Street. He lived on that street, and it would take us 99% of the distance to the radio station; Oakdene Avenue is directly off the other end of Belcher in Kentville.
(Yes. Belcher is a surname, and the street was named after a member of that family, Benjamin. If there can be a character in Shakespeare's "The Twelfth Night" named Sir Toby Belch, then there can damn well be a family named Belcher.)
We could have chosen a better day to pick up the record. It started to rain on our way to the station. By the time we got there, we looked like a couple of wharf rats.
We made our way to the front door and announced ourselves. A tall blond man overheard me speaking to the receptionist and said, "Are you Bev Keddy?" When I replied that I was, he brought me over my record, still in its shipping package. I recall he said "damn" at one point. This turned out to be Wally Milan.
I really should relate via a blog post about the times I called the station to request songs and to generally bug the announcers there. They do not put me in a good light, and I am reluctant to write about that.
The cardboard container was addressed to Evangeline Broadcasting, which owned AVR back then. It was not until 1999 or so that they were sold to Maritime Broadcasting Systems and lost most of its staff in the name of saving a few bucks. Don't get me started on that.
Armed with my new record, we started to return home. The rain had become nearly a downpour, a torrent of water from the heavens that caused us lots of problems. For one thing, my bike had those brakes that you had to squeeze on the handle to activate, causing small rubber "bricks" to make contact with the front and back tires, resulting in the bike stopping. If you ever drove such a bicycle, you would know that these brakes become nearly useless when the rubber contacts get wet. They make contact with the tires, which are also wet, and all of a sudden, you have no viable way to stop yourself in a hurry. I am sure that, all these years later, that design flaw has been addressed. Not then.
We decided to drop by the house of a girl Chris liked. I liked her too. Her name was Linda, and there is no need for me to supply her last name, although I remember it very well. We hung out there, hoping that the rain would let up, only to see it get only worse.
Eventually, as supper time approached, we took our chances and returned to our homes. When I got home, I took the record out from under my shirt and opened the package. It was an advanced copy of "Love Gun", their newest album. The big hit from that album was "Christine Sixteen". I hope that they have retired that song from their repertoire by now, because it would be creepy as frig for 60 year old men to be singing songs about 16 year old girls. Read the wikipedia article about it and you'll see why. While you're at it, here's an article about the album itself.
There were other songs on the album. In reading the article, I remember a few of them, but they were mostly filler songs and I don't fondly recall any of them. Except for the title track. Apparently, "Love Gun" has been played during every KISS tour since 1977. Maybe not every concert, but during every tour they would dust it off.
Of course, I was 13 when I got the record. I had no idea what a metaphor was, let alone a sexual one. I literally thought the song was about a gun, a firearm, whose trigger would be pulled whilst in the presence of an attractive woman. Nope. Not so much. Similarly, "Rocket Ride" on another KISS album is not a science fiction song as I thought it was for many years. Long time readers will recall that I have a very, very hard time understanding even the concept of metaphors, let alone how one thing can actually stand for something else. Don't bother trying to explain them to me; I just won't get it. Similes are much, much better. They are an underutilized narrative device.
Over the next few days, I began getting phone calls from folks who had heard that I had won the record. They wanted it for their own. They did have one good point to make. And it's ironic. At the time I got that album, I didn't have a record player. That will be the subject of a future post in this series.
I held on to the record. From when I was 13 until I was... hmm, 40 or 41 or so. By that time, I was selling off my KISS stuff: the books I owned about them, the magazines, and the vintage vinyl. But "Love Gun" was in such sorry shape, I had purposely scratched some of the songs on the album to make them nearly unplayable, and I had marked up the album cover so badly, that there was little or no collectable value in the album. When I sold a handful of other KISS albums to a guy here in town, I offered him "Love Gun" for free. If he hadn't taken it, I would have biffed it into the garbage.
I'm not sure what the point of this story is. I guess it was that it was around that time that I developed a collector's mentality, one which I fostered through the years, and which I am only now trying to cure myself of. A few of those things paid off handsomely. I sold my KISS stuff off for hundreds of dollars, and that money came in pretty handy back then.
Another point is that it just goes to show that the things I used to hold dear, that were once important to me in some kind of context, can fall out of favour with me, even if they haven't with many other people. After all, Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley still go out on tour with a couple of other guys and perform as KISS. And they still wear that ridiculous make up and those garish costumes. They are in their damned sixties and they still play these songs that I never want to hear again as long as I live. I let go. Why can't they? And why can't the people who used to listen to that crap?
I would go on, over the years, to purchase hundreds of vinyl albums and 45's. I enjoyed them very much. Today, I have thousands of songs on my hard drive, and quite a few on my mp3 player, and seldom listen to any of them. My days of listening to a lot of music are behind me.
But, it wasn't a total loss. I got to meet "Wally Milan" and have him swear at me. Stuff like that stays with you.
Next time in this series: My first record player.
See you tomorrow.
Friday, January 18, 2013
At least, that is what they tell me. You see, I had today off. Lots of sleeping in. Lots of warmth. And absolutely nothing to do with going out in that crap.
Newbie and Cindy were glad that we were home. I was glad to be home; the more I heard about how lousy it was outside, the more grateful I was to be inside.
I made brunch for both of us. It was one of my world-famous omelettes. I may make my world-famous French toast over the weekend.
I spent a big chunk of the day down here in my home office. The laundry room is right outside. I have done many loads of wash today. I am pleased to report that I have some clean underwear again. Not as pleased as the people at my work, of course, but close. And I have washed probably a dozen of my dress shirts and a half dozen pairs of the pants I wear to work. This is all good as it no longer means I have to borrow some of Patricia's clothes on Monday morning. We will keep that a secret, ok?
Let's see here. I watched "Shaun of the Dead" today. We both watched "Moving Day", starring Will Sasso and Victor Garber and Eddie Murphy's brother Charlie. It was Mike Clattenburg's latest project, and it was not bad at all. I think if they wanted to make this into a series, shot in Halifax of course, then that would be something I would tune into. Charlie looks and acts like a down-on-his-luck Eddie Murphy, which I guess he is.
Tomorrow will be more of the same. I will wash many more clothes. I will watch one or two more zombie movies. Patricia will be upstairs on the couch watching her cooking shows. Hours and hours of them. I figure I can either tear my eyes out and rip my ears off, or channel my energy into more positive activities, so I will be down here for the bulk of the day. With Newbie. Just us guys.
What are your plans for the weekend? And, what are you wearing, anyway?
See you tomorrow.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
We got quite a bit of snow last night. It would be chore to shovel the massive Bevboy driveway after work tonight.
The nurse reminded me not to do any heavy lifting for 6-8 hours after the bloodletting. That would preclude my performing this important-but-beneath me task.
I knew that Patricia would not believe me, that she would think it but a feeble attempt on my part to get out of doing this work.
I thought for a moment as the needle sucked my lifeforce out of me. Soon, I would succumb to blood loss. What to do? What to do?
Why, it was obvious!
Remember in high school when we missed a day and we had to get our parents to write an excuse for us? Or, hee hee, get a friend to pretend to be a parent and write it for us?
Why not try that tonight?
Ha! No shovelling for Bevboy tonight!
It just means that the snow will be that much harder to shovel tomorrow. But that's what Patricia's are for.
Oh, yes. One more thing. It is customary for me to donate blood in a particular person's name. My mother, a sister, a person at work, a homeless guy bleeding out on Granville Street. Someone.
I will try something different this time.
I will donate the blood in the name of the person who gives me the best reason to donate it in their name. It should be a brief narrative explaining why you should be the one to receive this card that I fill out. I will even mail it to you if you are out of town.
You can reply to this post, or the tweet, or send me an email at radiointerviews AT bevboysblog DOT com.
Contest closes on January 25, 2013, at 12:01amET.
You may enter more than once.
See you tomorrow!
From Bevboy's BlackBerry to Bevboy's Blog!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
But we were also supposed to have a Toastmasters meeting tonight. I dutifully cleaned off my car and crept downtown. I found a parking space on Granville Street. I checked my BlackBerry and discovered that tonight's meeting was canceled after all, while I was driving my car downtown. It is just as well, because any route outbound was severely backed up by thousands of cars.
I called Patricia, who was happy to learn that I would not be going to TM after all. Since I was across the street from MEC, and since my sling bag is starting to wear out, I dashed in to the store and looked at the ones there. They had plenty of them, almost as if the Korean sweatshop they got them from got paid a 2 cent per hour premium to produce a few extra for that store in Halifax. The only problem is that the one I wanted was a color I couldn't be caught dead with. Some kind of girly color. No, thanks.
(Actually, if anyone at my work is reading this and still has the sling bag we got a couple years ago and no longer wants it, then I can take it off your hands. Just saying.)
The traffic was still outrageous. We decided to get dinner at the Pogue Fado on Barrington Street. That place has been many things over the years, and the Pogue Fado has been in that space for quite a few years. The most famous restaurant that the space ever was called was during the war and several years after, when the area was known as the Green Lantern restaurant. I have always wondered if the building and the eating place got its name from the Green Lantern above the door to the place, or if it got its nickname from the superhero of the same name. But you don't care.
We ate our dinner. We got to the car, which was covered with the white stuff that doesn't interest Charlie Sheen. We cleaned off the car and began to creep home.
The roads were a mess. They had been plowed in the same way that Lindsay Lohan has cleaned up her life. Up and down the hills we went, driving past people who were off the road. Some of those folks had passed as earlier. Hee hee.
We got home around 8pm. We fed the cats and have been relaxing ever since.
Tomorrow, if the roads are anything but pristine, we will take the damned bus. Life is too short to deal with driving when you don't have to.
In other news, I asked folks to tell me they want out of the blog. I have decided to follow most of their advice. I was gratified to see that my 4.7 readers are passionate about this blog. Thank you.
I haven't booked any interviews in several months. I needed a break from them. But they're also the thing I'm best known for, in pockets of the country actually. I will book at least one over the next few days. And I think I will revisit some of the "Year in Review" series from last year and add some stories that I didn't think of at the time. I hope you like them.
I will also resume the "Early Bevboy" series, which is kinda like the "Year in Review" series. There is also the series in which I discuss dumb things that have happened to me in my long, eventless life. And I still have some entries in the "Things in Halifax That Don't Make Sense" series. I will dust them off soon.
I will not say that the best is yet to come with this blog. It gets harder and harder to come up with something new and interesting every day, but I will keep trying.
Thank you, my friends.
Tomorrow, it all starts again! I hope all 4.7 of you come along for the ride.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
I really must call my doctor. I have been putting this off for too long as it is. I will call tomorrow.
Let's see here. It was nearly noon before I got up. The afternoon was a bit of a haze. But a long shower this evening makes me feel even better.
I tweeted something a few days ago. It was a question. I asked whether I should continue the interviews for this here blog. The few who wrote me back all thought I should. So, I will.
What I will ask all 4.7 of you now, though, is: What aspects of Bevboy's Blog would you like to see more of, or less of, or not at all? A feature? Something like the Early Bevboy? Would you like me to revisit some of the "Year in Review" editions and flesh out some of the stories, or add new ones? Are you sick and tired of the "Christmas Tie" posts every December? Or should I consider shutting down the blog? (I'd probably ignore those requests!)
If you have a moment, please let me know what your thoughts are. You can reply to the Facebook status update pointing to this blog post, reply to the tweet advertising this post, or send me a direct email at radiointerviews AT Bevboysblog DOT com.
Start thinking. Start writing. Start feedbacking.
See you tomorrow.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
I had a good weekend with my mother. After the shopping expedition on Saturday, I had a quiet night at home. I installed a newer hard drive on my old computer and noted that it already has some bad sectors. I would like to get at least a year out of it, but that may not be the case.
This morning I cooked 2 pans of chicken for Mom and me. I had 2 thighs and the rest is for her. She will have several meals this week now because of me.
Newbie somehow sensed that I was going to leave. He hid from me, and it took me 15 minutes to track him down. He wasn't happy with me on the way back home.
There's very little to report. Kind of an uneventful day other than the drive back to the city. Besides, Newbie is intimating he wants to turn in.
See you tomorrow.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
I'm at the old desktop I keep here copyimg files to a new-ish hard drive I installed this evening. It will take hours and hours to complete this process. Will keep the computer running all night if need be.
As you can see, Newbie sits atop this old laser printer. A moment ago I could hear him snoring. I'm sure he heard me snoring, earlier today.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get back to the cinematic classic "Zombie High", which I just found out was released during my last semester at Acadia University. No wonder I missed it in theatres. I was crazy busy back then. Go ahead and read the "Year in Review" entry for 1987 and see for yourself.
See you tomorrow.
via his BlackBerry
Sent by my BlackBerry
Friday, January 11, 2013
As you can see he is relaxing on my bed. He's oblivious to what confronts me on Saturday.
Tomorrow will be all about shopping. Until I drop. But Mom takes energy from others and can keep going much longer than I can.
This means I must fortify myself for the morrow. Raw meat. Protein shakes. Red Bull.
Wish me luck.
From Bevboy's BlackBerry to Bevboy's Blog!
Sent by my BlackBerry
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Patricia worked late this evening, which was fine, because I was off to upper Tantallon to see a fellow regarding an item he was selling on kijiji. He was kind enough to hold the item for me until today, payday. He didn't have to do that, but I appreciated his kindness. I specifically told him that if any other offers came up that he should sell the item to that other person. Ah, well. I got a good deal. Thanks, Nick.
Yes, I gave him a blog business card. I have to get the word out somehow. Don't judge me.
Afterward, I checked out the Tantallon library, which I had not visited in a few years. It is a very nice library.
Every time I go to that library, or the one in Clayton Park, or even (God help me!) the ancient main library in downtown Halifax, I become a little jealous. I live in a part of the Halifax Regional Municipality that doesn't have much retail. We have a Pharmasave drug store. The best thing you can say about Pharmasave is that at least it isn't a Guardian Drugs. We have had a Tim Horton's for several years now, but it's a damn wonder they bothered to open one. There is a joint called The Timberlea Beverage Room, whose menu hasn't changed since the invention of food. We have a few pizza places. A Chinese food place that hasn't killed me yet. A very few other places.
But we have no library. We have no grocery store. The understanding is that we don't mind driving into Bayer's Lake to do our shopping, or Tantallon. I have nothing against either place; I just wish we had more amenities out here. I am a little surprised that I am on city water and sewer and have a high speed internet connection. After all, we are in a seemingly disadvantaged part of town.
I have no idea why things are this way. Many thousands of people live out here, and they are building an upscale community called Brunello Estates that will potentially attract plenty more. The folks who gravitate there will look askance at the dearth of shopping and retail and wonder why they bothered to move there in the first place. At least they will have a nice golf club at which to work out their aggression.
I'd just be happy to have a damn library within walking distance of my home.
Go ahead. Tell me about the vast shopping opportunities in your backyard. Drive me to drink or something.
See you tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The idea behind this extremely irregular series is that we all have bookmarks or favourites or whatever your browser calls them, that we saved once upon a time and never went back to, or that we visit quite often but we assume that nobody else we know does.
I thought I would list a few more of my "favourites", along with a short description and the actual url.
1. Max Allan Collins is one of my favourite writers. I have been reading his novels, short stories, comics, grocery lists, love letters to his wife, whatever, for about 30 years now. I have probably about 80 of his novels, and he probably has nearly as many again that I have yet to acquire. He is a very prolific man.
For some 16 years he wrote the Dick Tracy comic strip, until he was let go from it around 1993.
Anyway, MAC has his own website, and he updates it at least once a week. Sometimes, his son Nate adds some entries. MAC also provides links to interviews he has done with other folks, and takes great delight in linking to websites that review his work, whether they like it or not. I think Max Allan Collins is just swell.
Here's his website. You're welcome.
2. The Charley Project is arguably the world's largest database of missing persons cases. It has about 9000 entries. Each case has as many pictures as possible as well as quite a bit of detail. 9000 different MP cases. The biggest surprise is that the entire thing is run by one person, a young woman named Meaghan Good. She collects all the information, writes the descriptions, in short maintains the website all by herself. Every time I look at myself and say what a good job I do updating this blog on a near-daily basis, I think of Meaghan and all the work she does and all the good she does, too. I'm a fan. We have exchanged a few emails. She may even remember who I am if you write her and say hi for me.
Here's a link to the Charley Project. If you find MP's interesting, then you can easily lose yourself in this website. I especially like to read them in chronological order, as some entries go back 100 years. The Sodder children entry from 1946 is especially gripping.
3. Speaking of Missing Persons, there isn't much about missing folks in Nova Scotia. The Halifax police website is frustratingly laconic about this, even though there are dozens of unsolved murders and missing persons just in the Halifax Regional Municipality. Never mind the other parts of Nova Scotia. There is no "Meaghan" in Nova Scotia who's willing to take on this work.
There is this web page, though, that discusses and theorizes on missing people in Nova Scotia. Some of this speculation is nearly hysterical at times, but there is some interesting reading. Of particular note are the young man who disappeared from Acadia University some 20 years ago, never to be seen again; and the young man who disappeared from a hospital about 25 years ago, also never to be seen again. The last one is especially compelling. Depressed, it was thought that he leapt to his death from a hospital window. Except that his body has never been found. Brr!
Here's the link. Especially interesting if you're from here.
4. Lastly, I don't get tired of this guy. I don't think I would want to meet him. But he makes a damn good point where it comes to selling one's labour and its perceived value when people hit him up to do stuff for them. I have given up on the number of times people have asked me to fix their damn computer. If I gave into every one of these "requests", there would be no time for Bevboy. And, besides, these same people would charge me the same going rate for their own services, be it plumbing or carpentry or automobile repair. They don't give away their services for free. Why should I?
Read this. Have a laugh. And get the underlying message. Also, check out the other entries on the left hand side of the link. Funny stuff, with a message.
So, what are some of your favourite favourites/bookmarks/whatever's? Share them with me via an comment to this post, or a comment on my FB, or a reply to the tweet that advertised this blog post, or an email to radiointerviews AT bevboysblog DOT Com.
And, should I do some more of these entries in this series, a little more often? Do you like to read them?
See you tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
I am sorry that I didn't write on Monday evening. I wasn't feeling well. I got home around 5:30 and went to bed five minutes later. Other than a few bathroom breaks, and a short telephone conversation or two, I didn't get up until 1:30 this afternoon. And that was only because Patricia called me at home and awakened me.
Obviously, this is a problem. I do not know what is wrong with me, if anything. I just know that I am sleeping my life away, and that is not good. It is one thing to sleep a lot if you have a cold or a flu; it is quite another when you don't seem to have either of those things and you sleep a lot anyway.
I will call my doctor in the morning and make an appointment. I may or may not tell you what the diagnosis is, depending on what it may be.
You guys ever hear of Lorne Elliott? He is an extremely funny man who used to have a show on CBC radio called "Madly Off in All Directions". Another one of those people whose fame is circumscribed by the audience of the CBC, but this time unjustly so. He should be a household name.
He did a monologue several years ago in which he reported that he hadn't been feeling well. He was tired all the time. Could barely stay awak Wasn't feel at all up to snuff. So, he went to the doctor. He underwent a series of tests. When the results came back, his doctor asked to speak with him. Turned out that he, Lorne, was... lazy.
I hope that my own diagnosis is just that, and not something else.
Hey, here's a Lorne Elliott piece from youtube. There are lots more. Check them out.
See you tomorrow.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
I took my monthly shower this evening. I am now clean and serene for the evening.
And, my mother's much more comfortable in the house today. The furnace works just fine. Thanks for asking.
You may have noticed that this post is one more than it should be. It "should be" post 2220. That's because a few days ago I messed up the numbering once again. There were two posts labeled 2216. The only way I could think of to fix it was to bypass 2220 and go right to 2221.
Which brings me to this: I have been dutifully numbering the blog posts for over 5 years now. I started this because... well, I am not sure. I just thought it was nice and neat to have this continuity stretching back to the first days of this blog.
When I started doing this, I had no idea I would one day reach over 2200 posts, yet here I am, and here I also am still numbering the posts. I am probably the only blogger in the world who does this, and I wonder if there is any point.
Should I continue numbering each post? Does it help you find any posts you want to find? Does it make it any more difficult? Or do you just not pay attention to the blog posts numbering at all? Or do you chalk it up to an eccentricity of an aging dude who lives in Nova Scotia and seldom gives out his last name?
I am curious to know how you feel about this. Please let me know via a comment to this post, or on my facebook, or a reply to the tweet that lets you know the post is up, or via an email to radiointerviews AT bevboysblog DOT com.
Give it some thought and get back to me.
See you tomorrow.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
I didn't get up until... well, I am ashamed to admit it. But let's just say it was so late that it seemed tardy even to eat brunch.
Patricia was fighting something as well and napped this afternoon. That was fine. I came down here to my home office and have spent several hours reading a blog on which I had fallen months behind. I absolutely adore Mark Evanier's "News From ME" blog. My regret is that I hadn't read it in nearly 6 months. I have tweeted a few links from it this evening. I also found out that this beloved mother died in the last few months. Sorry to hear that.
Like him until very recently, I am down to my last parent. While I am not an only child, I am my mother's primary care provider. I guess I shouldn't state much more than this. It gets stressful sometimes.
It got especially stressful this afternoon when I called my mom and she reported that the house was cold. I kept trying to get her to override the default values on the programmable thermostat. Just press the up arrow on the 'stat accomplishes that. The default programming will kick in during the next time transition that I programmed into it a couple of years ago. A battery back up ensures that the settings will be retained. I thought this might fix the problem.
Not so much.
I called her again early this evening. She told me the house was even colder. Not good at all, especially during a January cold snap.
I remembered a phone number I had programmed into my BlackBerry in 2011 for a home heating service we had used a couple of times. I looked it up and gave it to Mom, and got her to call the guy. She did, and he went over to the house this evening. Mom called me right after he left and reported that he had fixed the problem, which turned out to be a burned fuse on the main fuse panel in the house. The man charged her less than he could have. The house was warming up as she called me.
I am unaware of anyone else in the family who could have done what I did this evening: provide her this information which would allow her to address the problem. Once again, I must be diplomatic here, but I am the only one who could have done what I did, and I am a 90 minute drive from her house while I have other relatives who live mere minutes away.
There are times when I feel that my mother and I are the only ones in this together. I drive down in the summer months and mow her lawn. When I am home, I make her some meals for the upcoming week. I take her shopping for hours at a time, as I have written about at length. I do my best to fix things around the house, without the benefit of any carpentry skills to back me up (I have recently discovered the magic of washers). I spent untold hours in 2012 cleaning up the garage and removing as much detritus as I could to make the work area that Dad created some 40 years ago, relatively useful again. Not that I have a particular need for that work space, but it makes me feel so much closer to my father to see that work area cleaned up again, as if he were about to go out there and build something once more. I have done all these things entirely on my own.
I state these things not to brag, but merely to state facts and help you understand why I am zonked so much. Come the weekend like this one, I stay here at my house and try to recover for the next week of work. Other weekends I am at my mother's doing some of the things I listed in the previous paragraph and/or other things I didn't list in the previous paragraph. Not sure where there is Bevboy time in all that.
It is nearly 11;30 at night. I will turn in soon. But I will call my mother in the morning to see if she is doing ok and if there is anything I can do to help her, even from afar. My phone call to her may be the only one she gets all day. Yeah. I know. Don't get me started. Families are funny sometimes.
Sorry for the serious tone of this post. I will try to write something funny next time. Surely to frig Newbie will do something to amuse me, or Patricia will ask me a computer question or something that will make me smile. I hold on to those moments as best I can.
See you tomorrow.
Friday, January 4, 2013
No sooner do I left Mark Dooley know that I was about to publish part six of his latest saga, when he sends me part seven.
Once again, as a cat person, I find this storyline extremely moving.
I’ll write another post today, if I get a chance.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
It’s been a few weeks since the last scintillating chapter in Mark Dooley’s latest magnum opus. High time for the next one.
Mark is a cat fan, like me. That gets him into Heaven, as far as I am concerned.
Anyone who has had to say goodbye to a pet should be paying special attention to this storyline. And bring a hanky.
See you tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
I saw a politician walking down the street this morning, and he had his hands in his own pockets. That's how cold.
It is also so cold that Newbie is looking at his paw, as if he were wearing a watch, and stamping his foot on the floor, wondering when I will finish this damned post so that he can snuggle up next to me and get warm again.
There is a store next to where I work. They sell a lot of low-end clothes and electronics and food and everything else. Every time I buy something there, I do a hail mary and hope that it won't blow up in my face the first time I try to use it.
Stopped off there during my lunch hour today. They had not one, but two replacement remotes for $6.49. You supply the batteries. In a moment of pure whimsy, I bought the set. This evening, I took a few minutes and got it to talk to a tv in the house. I think these will be fine at my mother's, where I have an old tv whose remote is on its way out. Should be fine. And I got it for a good price.
Newbie doesn't care about the previous paragraph. He is impatiently thumping his tail against the wall. If he could sigh, he would.
Patricia made dinner this evening. It was salmon with some kind of coating on it that included cheese. We have so much salmon in the house that if Paul Watson of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society found out, he'd come to my house and kick our asses and organize an official Bevboy boycott. I would hate for that to happen, so we won't have any more salmon for a while. Patricia will have to understand.
I guess that's it for tonight.
Newbie, I'm on my way!
See you tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
I wish I could truthfully state that I had spent today running the roads and checking out the New Year's Levees, or even going to a movie. But, we didn't do any of that stuff. Instead, we just hung around the house, watching movies or playing with our cats. I spent lots of time today doing laundry. I can state truthfully that I have enough clean underwear and shirts to last me for some time. People at my work should be grateful for that, especially the folks in adjacent cubicles.
Newbie has been following me around like a bad penny all day. I am surprised he doesn't stand up next to me when I'm having a pee. He doesn't, but I think he wishes he could.
I guess I will list a few New Year's Resolutions.
1. Lose Weight. I have been on and off with the gym in recent months, mostly off. I frigging swear that I will resume going to the gym. I hate being there. I hate going there. But I almost always feel better after I have been there. I have to hold on to those feelings as they will sustain me while I am going to the gym and while I am there.
2. Be more active overall. Patricia is always on my case to go for walks in the neighbourhood. I agree with her. It is not a bad place at all, with only the odd murder and house break-in to taint one's positive perception of the place. It is well-list at night. There is a lake nearby with ducks therein. And there is a street from this neighbourhood to the adjoining one that is full of interesting streets and houses. We can also cut through the walkway near my house and past the school to be in yet another neighbourhood where there are similar sights. And don't forget about the very long trail system just a few minutes from the house.
3. Eat better. I am winning the battle of the burgers. I don't want pizza for a long time. I only eat about 3 donairs a year. I want to concentrate much, much more on healthy eating choices.
4. Socialize a bit more. We have friends who keep wanting to go out with us. Why are we not going out with them? I don't have an answer for that except that I am self-conscious about my bad breath and smelly feet and tendency to pick my nose in public. There's only so much a fellow can do to improve himself, you know what I mean?
5. Dwell on the positive more than the negative. The glass is not half-empty with a crack in the bottom and somebody sucking out the liquid with a straw. It is half full, darn it. Half. Full.
6. Focus on the things that I can control and just accept the things that I cannot change. I keep telling myself that, but there are external elements which can conspire to make me think otherwise. I have to accept them for what they are, or ignore them to the best of my ability. As part of this, I will also endeavour not to roll my eyes when I hear what is obvious bullshit coming from someone. I may continue to sigh, though. I think #6 will be an iterative process.
I guess that's it.
What are your New Year's resolutions?
See you tomorrow.