Jalopy Jam-Up

Last weekend, Ken drove us more than two hours north of Toronto so that we could go to Jalopy Jam-Up, a classic car event out in the middle of nowhere.  The venue is a fake frontier ghost town, but it has been so poorly maintained that you could almost mistake it for a real one, it's so dusty and tumble-down.

We heard about the event through friends of a friend, who know the organizers.

This car wins the prize for flashiest paint job.  Click on the photo to see the large version, so you can get a good look at the nude lady on the hub cap!

Every knob inside was replaced with a decorative die.

Old vehicles are much more bulbous than the ones made today.

I heard that Wells Fargo had been hit hard in the recession, but I didn't know it had come to this...

I thought we'd come a long way to be there, having driven from Toronto.  Apparently not.  Here's an Ohio license plate.  People brought their "jalopies" from all over.

Exhaust pipes, or hungry baby birds?

There were a lot of flame paint jobs.

I like this blue car for its understated cool.

That's a Mr. Horsepower sticker near the front wheel of the yellow car, below.  Ken got one for my mom's car, and she loved it so much that when she got a new car, she asked him to get her another Mr. Horsepower sticker.  He drove over to the house one day when she wasn't home, walked up to her car which was parked in the driveway, stuck the sticker on, and left.  He said the neighbours must have been wondering who the heck he was and what he was doing to the nice older lady's car.

So pink!  The roof is done with a sparkly flake paint, and the rest of the body is matte.  I like the hubcaps too.

No one does good tail fins anymore.

Some cars that weren't up to the drive got a lift to the venue.

Classic black.

We stayed for four hours, and it was a pretty good time.  We brought folding chairs and sat outside under trees, which we never get around to doing in the city.  There wasn't a heck of a lot to do there other than talk cars and listen to music, so I'm not sure how everyone was passing the time since a lot of people were camping there or staying at nearby hotels for the whole weekend.  From the looks of it, the main source of entertainment was drinking beer.

We heard that there was a drunken scuffle the night before we arrived, when a guy who had been into the silly soda found his wife, who was likewise sozzled, in a tent fooling around with another man.  The loud arguing and fighting that followed kept the whole camp up for most of the night.  Ken and I aren't fans of camping even under the best circumstances, so I'm glad that we weren't there. I'm also really not a big fan of porta-potties and no running water.  Thank God for hand sanitizer.

So, which if the cars is your favourite?  (The blue car is my favourite, followed by the yellow convertible.)

Canadian National Exhibition Time

Ken and I took Friday off work to go to the CNE annual fair.  We couldn't have picked a more beautiful day.

We could, however, have picked a cooler day.  It was another scorcher, so we spent at least as much time inside as out.  Fortunately, the CNE has plenty of indoor exhibits.

In the horticulture display, I found a moss moose.  Someone clearly enjoys wordplay as much as I do.

In the shopping area, I was a bit taken aback by this piggy bank, which requires you to insert your coins into its butt.  It's huge, too!  That's a folding chair behind it.

I did approve of this pillow, featuring three enigmatic cat people protecting a slice of watermelon.  At least, that's my best guess as to what's happening here.

We ventured outside to watch an XTREME POGO!!!!!  demonstration.  The stunt team jumped seven feet off the ground and turned somersaults on their pogo sticks.  We bailed after about 5 minutes because it was too damn hot.  I felt sorry for the pogoers in their all-black uniforms.  

Corndogs, available in small, large, and OMG, are you kidding me, does anyone actually want a two-foot long corndog?

One-man-band guy was singing, playing the drum set on his back, plus the guitar on his front, and had a harmonica at the ready.  Although he wasn't quite a solo act this year; the fellow behind him was playing what was more or less a xylophone made of PVC pipes. They were playing The Weight (the "Take a load off, Annie" song), and doing a great job of it.

Kids' area, with scaled down rides.  You can see the CN Tower in the background.

This sculpture/decommissioned fountain was a Pokestop.  I bet the kids appreciated that.

Fountain still in commission.

Cow that looks like a delicious, lightly toasted marshmallow.

One-week old calf.  Awwww! :-)

Turkey, obviously.  Get a load of that neck!  Sheesh!  Somebody get him a bandana please.

It was a great day.  We walked until our feet were sore, picked up a couple of souvenirs, ate treats, and generally tired ourselves out completely in the best way possible.  Hurray for the CNE!

Sweating

So.  It's hot.  It's hot today, it was hot yesterday, and the many days before that, and it's going to be hot  again tomorrow.  Okay, this is summer; I suppose it's to be expected.  But I am all out of patience for walking home from work in 35 degree weather (that's 95 of your American Farenheits) at maximum humidity.

I cope by bringing an entire change of clothes for the office environment, which is effective but also a hassle.  I've also started bringing an ice pack to hold against the back of my neck, or the insides of my elbows, while waiting for the bus.

At least my hair is finally long enough to pull back into a ponytail.  #SmallMercies

Maybe it's the heat sapping our tempers, but Ken and I have been quibbling about politics.  It's a bit stupid, considering that we're Canadian, to argue about the American election, but we do.  Ken prefers Trump to Clinton, because a) Trump is more entertaining and b) actually I think that might be the only reason.  I prefer Clinton, even though she demonstrably lied during the email fiasco, because at least she has experience and takes her campaign seriously.

I'm not much of a hater, but I hate The Donald.  Loathe him.  It was all fine and dandy when he was shooting off his mouth on The Apprentice, which I watched and enjoyed.  It's another thing entirely for him to be playing up xenophobia and generally being an ass to people from a position of potential real power.  He doesn't seem to care at all about anything except his own ego.  I believe that he's a sociopath.  Not a quality one should be looking for in a world leader.

I've almost completely ignored the Olympics, except for a few minutes of gymnastics.  The athletes were amazing and very chalky.

That's about it for this week.  How broiling hot is it where you are right now, and how are you coping?

Loco in the Coconut

Ken and I went to a Tiki-themed event at a downtown bar last night. Picture this style of decor

but much more colourful and crowded, and the torches were "lit" with yellow and orange tissue paper rather than actual fire.  #SafetyFirst.  

There was a live band and a dance floor; a raffle; and a contest for the loudest shirt and best luau dress. Hawaiian-print-clad people sipped drinks decorated with slices of pineapple and paper umbrellas.  However, I was most interested in the scheduled burlesque act.  I have never seen one before.

Long before the dancer was scheduled to appear, half of a 3-foot-wide coconut shell was set on a stand and partially filled with sudsy water.  Intriguing.  An appropriately-scaled foam slice of lime was wedged onto the edge of the shell.

As the last of the day's light faded from the sky, a gorgeous, statuesque blond woman wearing a gold sequinned outfit strutted onto the stage.  The band launched into an appropriate musical number, and it wasn't long before pieces of the lady's costume were being gracefully tossed into the laps of men seated near the stage.

When she was down to a gold thong and sequinned pasties, she kicked off her shoes and climbed into the coconut, where she spun around on her butt, and kicked her feet in the air.  Then she grabbed the lime-slice sponge, ripped it in half, did some pretty provocative dripping-water-over-herself moves.  That was the grand finale.

I was amazed, a bit shocked, but definitely entertained.  It's not often that I see another woman's butt or bosom that bare, and never have I witnessed that much deliberate jiggling.  Since she had a bath in the process, I guess you could call it good, clean fun.

We caught a subway train home around 1 am.  Everyone was sleepy.  Here's a photo I took of a girl sleeping on the train next to a sketch of a man sleeping on the train.  Click on the photo see it in all of its whimsically juxtaposed glory.

So. Girl taking a bath in a giant coconut.  I can scratch that one off my bucket list.

Intrigue!

Since my step-dad retired and my new boss took over, things at work have been hectic.  My boss's boss, the owner of several successful businesses, has eleventy-jillion ideas to improve the place, and he would like them all done by the day before yesterday.  I believe that some of them are real improvements, and others not so much, but I'm throwing myself into each project with 100% genuine effort.  I've already been accused once of being "obstructionist" because I voiced some doubt about one of the ideas, so from now on I'll be doing whatever they ask for as quickly as it can reasonably be accomplished, without editorializing.

The politics of the office are still simmering.  Because we offer services to professionals, we need to have one representative of that type of professional on the management team.  Only one guy in the whole company was willing to sit in that hot seat.  Everyone else thought it would be more trouble than it was worth, and they might have been right.

The lead professional and the new owner are at odds.  Mr. Professional feels that he knows what's best for the business; so does Mr. Owner, and of course they disagree.  Mr. Professional says "My reputation is on the line!" and Mr. Owner says "It's my business; I'll do what I want to do with it."  Mr. Professional keeps threatening to quit if Mr. Owner proceeds with his "reckless" plans, and Mr. Owner can't run the business without a Mr. Professional.

Therefore, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone when suddenly Mr. Professional the 2nd appeared on the scene.  Mr. Owner hired him as an "assistant" to the original Mr. Professional, but we all know that Mr. P1 isn't in need of that type assistance. Mr. P2 is there as a spare, so that if Mr. P1 quits, the business can just swap in Mr. P2 and keep rolling.

The introduction of Mr. P2 was dramatic.  We were gathered for a regular management team meeting.  Everyone who was expected at the meeting was already present when, suddenly, the door was flung open and in swept Mr. Owner with his entourage.  He introduced Mr. P2 to everyone and then sat down and made a long speech about how successful the company was going to be.  We listened and nodded obediently in all the right places.

I kept stealing glances at Mr. P1, who I knew would be extremely upset by this turn of events.  No one consulted him before hiring his new "assistant".  His face was red.  I was waiting for a SPLAT sound and the feeling of warm bits on my cheek, because I thought his head might explode.

In the end, everyone accepted the idea... because what else could we do?  Mr. P2 has been nice to everyone so far, and actually he hasn't been around that much, so no one can accuse him of interfering where he's not wanted.  I believe that he's been brought in partly to diffuse the threat of Mr. P1 quitting, and party because of his professional connections.

So, I have one more new boss.  How do I feel about it?  Fine, I guess.  Throw him on the pile!  I have so many bosses now that it's a bit ridiculous, but whatever Mr. Owner wants is okay with me, as long as I get to keep my job and he can keep the bosses (4 at last count, or 5 if you also count Mr. Owner) from delivering conflicting instructions to me.  Oh well.  Never a dull day!

Context is everything

There's an old Jewish story about a man who has 12 children and a wife and they all live together in a tiny house.  The man goes to his rabbi and says "I can't take it anymore!  My house is too noisy and chaotic!  I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!  You have to help me!"

The rabbi asks the man if he has chickens.  The man says that of course he has chickens; he raises them for eggs and meat.  The rabbi tells him to bring the chickens inside the house to live with the family.  The man says "Really?  Are you sure?  Because we're already pretty crowded in there."  The rabbi says "Trust me".  So the man brings his chickens into the house.

The next week, the man goes back to the rabbi with the same complaint.  "My 12 kids make an enormous uproar, and now the chickens are squawking and pooping every where and the feathers are getting into everything.  It's much worse!"  The rabbi asks the man if he has a cow.  The man says yes, he keeps a cow for milk.  So the rabbi advises him to bring the cow into the house.

And so on and so forth, for several weeks, until the man is living with his in-laws, his neighbours, several dogs and cats, etc.  Finally, the rabbi tells him to kick everyone out of the house except for his wife and the 12 children.  The following week, the man goes back to the rabbi and says "Thank you so much!  My house is so quiet and peaceful now.  It's so roomy with only 14 of us living there, and so quiet without the animals.  How can I thank you?"

And that is how my sclerotherapy treatments are going.  I am at the stage where I have just brought all the stray dogs in the neighbourhood to move in, or, in non-symbolic language, my legs are covered in fresh bruises and bruises in various stages of aging and fading.  The spider veins that prompted me to seek treatment in the first place are all still present and accounted for.  The doctor keeps telling me that we have to work from the biggest "feeder" veins down towards the small ones, or the small ones will regenerate that much more quickly over time.

My legs look like they've taken a beating (they have) and I knew this would be the case.  I knew I would look worse before I looked better.   After four treatments, all I can find comfort in is that most of the bruises fade from dark purple to yucky yellow pretty quickly. My legs better look hecking fabulous when all this is over!

Hypo-allergenic Cats

Things have been a mite stressful in Sparkland this summer.  What with Bubbe's passing, the major and ongoing changes to my workplace, and my medical adventures, I've been feeling somewhat overwhelmed.

How am I coping?  Not badly, I think.  I've got a new addiction to lean on.  Not to worry: it's not cigarettes or heroin.  I'm a little late to the party, but, for the first time in my life, I'm soothing myself with video games.

It started with Candy Crush, the matching game, as a tool to help me get through sclerotherapy procedures.  It's a potent distraction.  I was surprised by how much I enjoyed playing.  I've gotten all the way to level 96.  The only thing that doesn't quite seem right to me is that, in the game, chocolate is my enemy.  I am willing to suspend disbelief when it comes to gathering candy to help a crash-landed alien or a sad unicorn, but don't ask me to believe that chocolate is a malign force.  That I cannot do.

A friend introduced me to Triple Town, a different type of matching game, in which you build a village from the grass all the way up to giant mansions, while being attacked by cute but angry bears. That one's pretty good too.  It got me through my most recent appointment very effectively.

My favourite, though, is Neko Atsume, a "cat collecting game".  It's not a typical game, in the sense that it doesn't require sustained attention.  You start with a yard, stock it with cat toys and comfy places to nap, and then check the app every 15 minutes or more (usually more) to see which cats have shown up.  As long as you keep the food bowl filled, you'll be assured of kitty visitors.  This is what my yard looks like right now:

The long-term goal is to meet all the different cats in the game and snap photos of them for your collection.  Some are rare.  Some need to be attracted by special accessories, which you purchase with fish that the cats leave for you once they are done enjoying their treats.  For example, that cowboy hat.  Some cats have worn it, but it hides their entire head and looks very silly.  However, "Willie the Kid" has visited, and that hat fits him perfectly.  Sadly, I didn't manage to see him; I only know he was there because he left me some fish.  All I can do is leave the hat out and keep my fingers crossed that he'll come back again.

This game is great because it's a simple, reliable source of delightful surprises.  I can check it in between the endless series of annoyances at work, and it always makes me feel better.  It's also free, although you can make in-app purchases if you aren't patient enough to wait days to accumulate the fish you need to buy that giant-cat-condo-scratching-post, or whatever it is in the shop that you're excited about.  A dollar and change will buy you a whack-load of fish.  I'm thinking of buying some because the makers of this game deserve a reward for being awesome.

Are you a phone gamer?  What's your favourite game?