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Archive for the ‘Lifes Observations’ Category

Walkie-Talkies

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , on December 22, 2011| 4 Comments »

Do you remember walkie-talkies? This was light years before cell phones. This was back to a time when phones were not only attached to the wall, but most had rotary dials. Walkie-Talkies were a little larger than a small transistor radio, You would press the button on the side and talk into it communicating with your friend who had the other one. When you finished your message you would say ‘over’ so your friend would know it was his turn to talk. More often than not there would be no reply because all you ever heard was static. Sometimes there would be little pauses and patterns in the static. I like to think that the static was actually noise from space, quite possibly the sounds that existed when our world was created Or perhaps noise from aliens!  You never know, it could be.  In the end we always resorted to yelling into them which worked because we were usually standing not more than 10 feet away from each other.

Many, years later just before cell phones became common place another little walkie-talkie type device hit the market. These were a form of short wave radio’s that actually did work. Like a walkie-talkie they came in pairs and were set to a particular and unique frequency. With an average set you could easily be on one side of a modern day shopping mall and talk to your partner who could be anywhere in the mall or even in the parking lot. While this was easily a billion dollar industry, it was short lived because cell phones hit in a big way about two years later.

So why, you are asking yourselves, am I even talking about this? Well because I am about to pick on my parents again.

About eight Octobers ago my parents came for one of their regular visits. My mother told us she wanted to buy us these ‘walkie-talkies’ We told her thanks but we really didn’t see a use for them. “Neither did we.” She said, “Now we don’t know how we manage without them!” We compromised, we would wait and see how invaluable they were between my parents and then we could better decide if we thought they would be useful for us.

The first test was upon the walkie-talkies as we were heading to the mall. For my parents going to the mall is a leisure activity. They walk in the front door synchronize their watches and make a plan. The conversation between my mother and father goes like this:

Mother: Okay, it is 1:30 where do you want to meet?
Father: I don’t know.
Mother: How about we meet back here?
Father: Okay what time?
Mother: It is 1:30 now, how much time do you need?
Father: Doesn’t matter to me, I’m good whenever, we just need to meet back here so we can make a plan for supper.
Mother: Okay it is 1:30 say we meet at…when?
Father: Well, hmm, what time did you say it was 1:30?
Mother: One thirty, oh wait did my watch stop? No its one thirty.
Father: Well, what did you want to do for supper?
Mother: I don’t know we can discuss that later, when did you want to meet back here?
Father: Whenever you want, I just have to hit a few stores and then I’m good.
Mother: Okay its 1:45 now, how about we meet at 3:30
Father: 3:30? That doesn’t leave much time does it?
Mother: Well we can meet at 3:30 and if we need more time we can always pick a new time.
Father: but then we have to come back here and then go through this again.
Mother: Okay how about 4?
Father: Hmm.
Mother: You said it doesn’t matter to you!
Father: Okay 4 pm. Did you want to meet at the food court?
Mother: No, here.
Father: Okay back here at 4pm. What time is it now?
Mother: 2:10.

And off they go, and they may pass each other in the corridors but they are pretty much on their own, until dinner of course.

My beautiful wife and I hit the mall with a slightly different plan. We view the mall as an evil place filled with zombies. The mission is simple, in and out as fast as we can. We don’t separate we have each other’s back. If the mission is more than 20 minutes it is considered a failure.

Being the accommodating cheerful people my wife and I are, we agreed to the plan. We watched as my Mother and Father went their separate ways and faded into the throng of Zombies. My wife and I headed for the nearest bench. After a time we spotted my father.

Me: Have you seen mom?
Dad: No.
Me: Why not call her on the walkie-talkie?
Dad: I left it in the car.

So far, test failed. A few moments later my father is back with walkie-talkie in hand. He calls my mother. No answer, he waits a moment and calls again.

Me: Problem?
Dad: It’s probably at the bottom of her purse and she can’t hear it.

Second Test: FAIL!

Later my wife and I spot my mother.

Me: have you seen Dad?
Mom: No.
Me: Why not call him on the walkie-talkie.
Mom – rummaging around in her purse finally finds it and turns it on.
Me: It wasn’t even on?
Mom: No I can’t hear it in my purse so I save on the battery by turning it off!

FAIL!

Mom – calls my father, no answer and tries again…and again.
Me: Problem?
Mom: he is not answering, maybe his battery is out.
Me: No he tried calling you awhile ago but you had yours off, so it is not his battery.
Mom: Well he is not answering.

FAIL!

Finally the time arrives and we all meet up:

Me to Dad: So, after you tried calling mom, we found mom and tried calling you on the walkie-talkie that you guys can’t seem to live without, but you didn’t answer.
Dad: I turned it off.
Me: Why?
Dad: To save the battery because your mother can’t hear it if it is in her purse. So why should I have it on?
Me: I’m not sure why you even carry them.
Dad: Why? They are wonderful.
Me: Well thank you very much for wanting to buy us a set but really I think we will pass.

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Home Is A Phone Call Away

Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , on December 8, 2011| 9 Comments »

My parental units have just celebrated their 53 wedding anniversary.  Yup the big 53!  I called to wish them a happy anniversary.  Calling my parents is a really good way to get fodder for this blog.  What follows is a story told to me by my father.  Before I get an earful, I do take responsibility for poetic license, although I can assure you this rendering is not far from the truth.

Both my Mother and Father were coming home from a shopping trip.  They were waiting for the elevator in the lobby of their condo and something happened of which I can’t remember because as my father was telling the story my dog was bringing me toy after toy to get my attention.  Anyway somehow in the lobby, in front of the elevator, my parents got separated. (I know what you are thinking, but no this is not be considered unusual in my family)  My father rode up alone.  Went into the apartment waited around a bit and went back to the elevator to help my mother with the bags.  The elevator doors open my mother was not to be found.  He waited a little longer, doors opened again and she was still not there.  My father went back to the apartment to close the door then headed down to the lobby of course she wasn’t there either.  “Perhaps” he must have thought to himself, “They crossed paths” so up to the 7th floor he went, no sign of my mother.  He went to the apartment, still no sign.  He went back to the lobby, nothing, nada, zip.  At this point, other people in a similar situation would start to worry.  But not my father, remember they have been together 53 years, he knows better.  My father remembers the time my mother got lost in Jackson Hole Wyoming.  She went to the corner to get some food.  At the time you could walk around the entire town in 30 minutes, there were a handful of hotels.  My mother stopped a police officer to ask where the Crazy Horse Hotel is.  The Officer informed her there was no hotel, they argued about it, the officer born and raised in Jackson Hole was pretty sure he knew that there wasn’t.  He was right because we were staying at the PONY EXPRESS HOTEL!  But in my mother’s defense, in our family there is virtually no difference between a crazy horse and a pony express.  The officer should have known better.

Back to the story at hand, thanks to the advent of modern technology my father remembers he has a cell phone, and by mere coincidence so does my mother.  Is it on? Does it have battery life left?  Does she have it on her?  This leads into another story for another time suffice it to say that the chances are that any of the above questions is going to have a negative answer.   In this instance all is good and my mother answers:

Father: Where are you?

Mother: At the elevator waiting for you to help me with the bags. Where are you?

Father: At the elevator waiting to help you with the bags.

My father at this point is back on their floor figuring my mother is now waiting in the lobby.  So he goes back down, of course she was not there. He calls her again:

Father:  Now where are you?

Mother: Waiting for you at the elevator, where are you?

Sounding familiar?

Father:  I’m in the lobby in front of the elevator and I can’t find you.

Mother: No, I am on our floor.

Father: I just came from there and couldn’t find you.

Mother: I’m standing on our floor in front of the elevators.

Father: Okay I’ll be up in a minute.

And once again my father goes up stairs and there is no sign of my mother and once again calls her.

Father:  I am at the elevator and you are not here.

Mother: Yes I am.

Father: Where?

Mother: In front of the elevator.

Father: What floor?

Mother:  (pause, laughter). Sixth

Father: (Laughter) we live on the Seventh.

Mother: Probably a good thing I didn’t try to get into the apartment at the end of the hall.

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Crazies At The Dentist

Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , , , on November 28, 2011| 7 Comments »

As some of you know, because you were there, I was at the dentist again.  Upon entering the lobby the receptionist was busy with another person so I just sat down at which time the receptionist said, “Brian, I’ll let the dentist know you are here”.  The other person turns around and says, “Well we could have just rode in together”  by coincidence it was a friend of mine who is also having work done, also I am told by his wife that he is just as much afraid of the dentist as I am, but like me eventually pain rules and something had to be done.  Just as Chad, not his real name, (okay it is) sat down and I was about to start a conversation another lady comes into the lobby who I did not know and comments on the strange weather we were having.  Ignoring my first rule of all things social (do not make eye contact) I went straight to ignoring my second rule of all things social (do not engage).  Breaking both rules I looked at the lady, smiled and nodded.  She commented again on how warm it was and I responded, “yup”.  She then started a conversation with me that went something like this.

Weirdo:  I like you, you know why?

Me: No.

Weirdo: Because you didn’t ask me where I’m from.  Everybody always asks me where I’m from and I don’t understand why.  Why do they assume I am from somewhere else, I don’t have an accent.  I spent a little time in the south so maybe my vowels are extended but not obviously so.

At this point I will point out that this lady was easily in her 70’s and had a pretty thick accent, I thought perhaps Ukrainian and it turned out to be Polish. So I just sort of shrugged. I was just about to open my mouth to speak to Chad when she pipes up again.

Weirdo:  I don’t use Novocain or any drugs when I’m at the dentist

Me: Raised eyebrows

Weirdo:  I use self hypnosis, and once I am properly relaxed I press hard on my pinky.  If they are working on the left side I press on my right pinky until it hurts, but it doesn’t really hurt because I am in a very relaxed state and pressing on the pinky takes away the pain.

Me:  I’ll take whatever drugs they give me.

Weirdo: I don’t like State College very much there is nothing to do.  When I lived in Virginia there was so much I could do, go to the movies, see plays, go out and eat, see the gardens.

Me:  I like it here.  By the way, everything she mentioned, you can do in State College there is plenty of movies, restaurants, theatre’s, concerts.  But I wasn’t about to argue.

At this point Donna, Chad’s wife came out of the examining room, she seemed to be quite proud that I was at the dentist on my own like a big boy.  We laughed, She texted my wife and then the weirdo interrupted us and asked me.

Weirdo: Are you going to vote for Obama?

Me: No

Weirdo: Why not?

Me: I’m Canadian

Weirdo:  Do people kill themselves in Canada?

Me: What?

Weirdo: Do they kill themselves? I bet there are a lot of suicides because of all the rain.

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait to see the dentist. Anything to get out of that waiting room, remember my friend Chad?  He was of no help. I started to wonder, if I pressed on my pinky finger, would she go away?

Me: I guess it is like everywhere else. 

Weirdo:  I bet a lot of people kill themselves.  So do you like Obama?

Me: Never met him.

At this point a soldier walked into the room the conversation quickly changed.

Weirdo:  War is such a horrible thing.  Poland has always been occupied either the Russians or the French or the Germans always war.  And now war is so much worse I hate to think about it.

Me: Yup, not pleasant, it never was. 

At this point the hygienist came in and saved me, “Brian we are ready for you now”

I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast from the waiting room to the dentist’s chair. 

 

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Halloween 2012

Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , on November 8, 2011| 5 Comments »

Halloween for 2012 has come and gone.  Here are a few pictures of our decorations for this year.  Basically the same as last year with a few changes.

And here is a video of the outside decorations.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHdMqzkkV04

and an added element.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyyVEG2l47Y

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DDS: Dey Died Screaming

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , , on November 2, 2011| 7 Comments »

The other day I went to the Dentist.  I have needed to for awhile, I’ve been avoiding it because I don’t like the dentist.  I know what you are thinking nobody likes to go to the dentist.  You would be wrong.  I know people (not normal people) who do like to go to the dentist.  I’ve had major surgery twice, each time removing part of my intestine.  I’d rather do that again then sit for an hour in the dentist chair.  My chest gets tight, my head starts to hurt and I start to sweat just thinking about the dentist.  Unfortunately it is just one of those things you have to do.  I understand that dentists are our friends and they contribute greatly to our lives, they are the unsung heroes of modern medicine.  Ever have a toothache?  Nothing beats a dentist.  The advances in dentistry in recent times are mind blowing.  My dentist didn’t even use the old pick on my teeth instead they used an ultrasonic pick.  And yet, for some reason I just dread going.

In my youth I had a dentist I didn’t like at all.  He would lie to me.  He would tell me it would be over in 3 seconds, and then he would count out loud.  Normal people count 3 seconds as 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi.  Not good old Dr. Liar.  He would count “1 Mississippi…” is a southern state that shares its name with a muddy river, a river Mark Twain loved so much that he wrote a book about it, the book became a classic and is still being read in high schools all across the States and Canada, except where it is banned because of some racially explicit words which were very common at the time of writing…”2 Mississippi…” is also the birthplace of Oprah Winfrey, Muddy Waters and Elvis Presley.  The capitol of Mississippi is Jackson and the state bird is the mocking bird…”You doing okay Brian?”  He would ask me when my mouth was full of suctions, picks, clamps and gauze so there was no way I could answer .  Not that my answer would matter as we both knew the answer would be, ‘No I am not alright’. He would nod understandingly, he would turn on the suction and I could hear him above the whine of the drill.  “Okay this will hurt a little longer but not enough to re-freeze you, and after you can go look at the fish in the aquarium and pick a lollipop just three more seconds Bri and it will all be over ready?…good boy 1 Mississippi…” is a large producer of catfish and cotton, dairy products and rice. Mississippi became a state December 10 1817. And if you enjoy crawdad fishin’ Mississippi is the place for you…2 Mississippi….” 

Three seconds my ass!

My next dentist however was far better.  My father said he never sent us a bill.  My sister figured out why.  He was a Nazi still conducting experiments and was being paid by the defunct Neo-Nazi government.  Truth of the matter was he never hurt me while I was sitting in the chair.  For weeks after I felt like I had a mouth full of fresh lava.

My last few dentists have not been bad, the last one is the best. I even found some humour in my last visit.

Dentists have their own language.  Not only that, I don’t want to know what it all means.  I don’t care what it means.  In fact I am pretty sure it is better that I don’t.  When the dentist started to explain things to me I sort of stopped listening.  I knew there were problems she said she could fix them.  The details (except for cost) were unimportant. 

I had my eyes closed, the dentist on one side of me, her hygienist (?) on the other side.  The dentist had a mirror in my mouth and was talking to the hygienist they were mapping out my mouth. I listened to the conversation which went something like, but not exactly like this:

Dentist:  DOM on two but could also be amalgam.

Hygienist: got it

Dentist: Buildup on three and a SVU

Hygienist; Okay, wait was that an SVU or an SUV?

Dentist: Hmm, neither its a GMC

Dentist:  four and six pre existing SRO with POV

Hygeniest: Did you say POV or POW with an EDU?

Dentist: NCIS but five is an EDU with a possible VHS

Me: owwa domma ahhh phllliicckkk

Dentist: removing mirror from my mouth, What was that Brian?

Me: Patient is DOA!

And so it went around my mouth one tooth at a time.

I suppose it all could have been worse.  I could have been at the eye doctor where they ask you embarrassing questions like,

Eye Guy: “Brian what is the first letter on the chart on that wall?” 

Me: “Chart?  What chart, all I see is blurry white square.”

Eye Guy: “hmm I see.”

Me: “well at least one of us does’

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Finding Me

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , on October 24, 2011| Leave a Comment »

I’ve covered a lot of ground in these posts. Many of the tags I use such as ‘magic, pets, animals, humour, friends, etc.’ I’ve used over and over.  This will be my 175th post.  I advertize my blog on Twitter, Facebook, Likeden and I’ve used a wide range of titles. 

So other than people directly looking for me how do people find me?  Simple really.  They go to their search engines and they type in the words, ‘mouse poop’.  I have had more hits through search engines that way than any other words or combinations of words.  True they don’t all say ‘mouse poop’  there are wonderful variations such as;

How big is mouse poop?

Mouse poop on my desk?

Mouse poop at work?

Do mice poop in piles?

How do I clean mouse shit out of my wok?

…and the list goes on.  Don’t bother going to google and type in any of the above and see what comes up.  I did it, and there are pages and pages, an unbelievable amount of information dealing with the  ‘mouse poop situation’  And in my in-depth research (all of five minutes) in how people are finding my blog I have found that when I type in anything about mouse poop into many search engines, my blog does not make a showing.  So I still have no idea how they find me.   I did however come across one interesting youtube video  Which I think everyone should take a look at.  But before you do I caution you it has very little to do with mouse poop.  It is about Sasquatch poop.  It appears these folks were tracking Sasquatch and came across, in their own words, ‘The mother load’ a big heaping pile of Sasquatch poop!  Go ahead, re-read the last sentence but it’s not going to change the result.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3GetVzf1OE

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Nope, Not Going To Do It!

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , on October 17, 2011| 2 Comments »

 

I am not a fan of the ‘bucket list’ the movie was not horrible, but the idea of writing down a list of all the stuff you wish to do? I don’t know, to me that sounds like a recipe for disaster, at the very least, as time goes by it becomes a list of regrets.

I think a more satisfying list would be the ‘I’m Not Going To Do It’  list. Such a list would be more achievable then a bucket list. So after lots of time and thought I have started a list:

Not going bungee jumping.  I am not going to die hanging upside down by my ankles because I jumped off a bridge secured by a rubber band.

 Not going parachuting. The only way I am jumping out of a plane is if the plane is going down in flames. And you know? Planes don’t have parachutes so, not going to do it.

 Not going to eat the seaweed salad at the Chinese buffet. That stuff just looks nasty. I’ve never seen anyone eat it, not sure why it is even there.

 Never going to appear on a television show such as ‘Survivor’.  Because that would just be silly

Never going to my high school reunion. I fought hard and long to get out of that place, why on earth would anyone think I want to go back? 

Never going to vote for anyone named Barrack Obama or George Bush.  Lets face it George put the hole in the boat and Barrack doesn’t have a clue on how to fix it.

Never going to go into outerspace.  Actually I will go if the ship is anything like the Star Ship Enterprise.  If I have to be strapped down and pee into a vacuum cleaner hose, it is never going to happen.

Never going to be one of those people who win 5 million dollars in the lottery and then proclaim, “yeah, I like my job I am going to keep working!”  If you are one of those people, please stop playing the lottery.  You have clearly missed the point.

Ain’t never going to be no ‘Hillbilly handfisher’.  I watched five minutes of it on the TV and that was enough, thank you very much.

Never going to appear on the TV show ‘Wipeout’.  While I love watching the show, those people are just retarded morons.

Never going to be a clown or a mime.  Isn’t being a magician nerdy enough?

Well I think eleven items on my ‘Never Going To Do It’ list is a pretty good start.  How about you?  Anything you are not going to do?

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Offensive? All in Context

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , on October 12, 2011| 8 Comments »

The other day I was in the bathroom at work and I noticed a strobe light attached to the fire alarm.  I had to laugh.  First off, if the alarm goes off and I’m in the middle of…’delivering the mail’ the fire is simply going to have to wait, it is that simple.  Secondly if there is a fire do you really want a strobe light going off?   I think that would be a little distracting.  Imagine if you will, flames a leaping, smoke billowing, fire alarms screaming in your ear, you drop to the ground looking for a way out, but now not only are you hot and choking and in fear for your life, you have no idea where you are going because the strobe light is assaulting your senses.  How does that make sense?

Speaking of assault on ones senses I am seeking words that people believe are degrading but in truth they are not.  Admittedly there are a handful of words that are actually degrading, however most of the time it is all in the context in which one is speaking.  I’ve been thinking about this for sometime because not overly long ago a friend of mine posted on Facebook on how we should not use the word ‘retarded’ because it is degrading.   I took offence to this.  Retarded simply means that there is a developmental delay.  The diagnosis for mental retardation is when ones IQ is below 70.  Wikipedia does classify the word ‘retard’ as offensive of course anybody can put just about anything in good ole’ Wiki and others will swear it is the gospel.  I often call some of my best friends ‘retarded’ when they do something that isn’t always the brightest thing in the world to do, many times I don’t even have to tell them because two minutes after they do what they did they will often proclaim, ‘oh man! I’m such a retard’.  Now yes that can be seen as degrading but it is also meant with love and affection and it is in context.  No friend of mine would ever go up to a person who actually has such issues and call them a ‘retard’ because that is offensive.  So hate me or think me insensitive if you will, but retarded stays in my vocabulary.  It is up to you to be smart enough to put the word into the context in which it is meant.

The word ‘ignorant’ is another good example.  My loyal followers have heard this from me before.  Ignorant only means lacking knowledge.  Ignorant does not mean ‘rude’.  Somebody who offends you is not necessarily ignorant.  More than likely, they are offensive.  Somebody who is rude is not necessarily ignorant, they are probably just rude.  You know who is ignorant? The people who repeatedly use the word, ‘ignorant’ in describing somebody who is rude, even after I’ve explained to them what ignorant means, those people are ignorant or possibly just stupid.   

Bastard, I do enjoy the word ‘bastard’ I’m not sure why I don’t often use it in reference to people.  Really I don’t care if your parents were not married when they had you.  Heck I don’t even care if you were a test tube baby. Usually I use it in reference to objects such as computers of course computers are usually rat bastards.  I don’t think rats can even be bastards since marriage is an exclusively human concept, but the words go together well.

Stringing all these words together as in, listen here you ignorant rat bastard retard…’ that I can see as offensive, in just about any context.

Of course you could soften the blow with the placement of the word ‘honey’ let us try it shall we?  Listen here honey you are an ignorant retarded rat bastard!    Yeah that makes it so much better.  It is all about context.  Of course just about any sentence that starts with, ‘listen here honey…’ is not going to end well.

I also like the word ‘moron’ unfortunately moron is offensive. The definition of moron is that which describes somebody with mild retardation.  It is odd that the word is offensive but the definition is not.  Offensive or not, I’m sticking with moron. 

I think that ends this post. Uh Oh, listen up honey I think some moronic, rat bastard, ignorant retard set off the fire alarm.

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My Key Is Down There!

Posted in humour, Lifes Observations, tagged , , , , , , on September 25, 2011| 7 Comments »

Last Thursday night I really had trouble going to sleep. Every time I would get even close to a light doze our hooligan cats would start running around, jumping off of furniture hissing and snarling at each other. It was one of those rare occasions where I could not wait for morning to arrive.

Finally it was time to get up, my wife got up to take her shower after a moment I heard some sort of muted scream, seconds later she crawled back into bed. She looked at me and said, “I can’t deal with it, you have too.” With great trepidation and sinking heart I headed into the bathroom and found nothing out of the ordinary. I pulled back the shower curtain, evidently at some point during the night a full blown slaughter had taken place. The first thing I noticed was the mouse butt and back feet, the front of the mouse was missing. Over in the corner I found part of the head, under the shower seat there was another chunk, amongst the cat puke I noticed some other mouse parts.

I did manage to clean up the mess without puking, but I came awfully close, I did spend the next 2 hours in deep focused concentration reciting the mantra in my head, ‘do not throw up, do not throw up,’ For the next day and a half every time thought about the mouse parts I had to concentrate on not throwing up. Even now three days later I still feel a little nauseous in this retelling of the tale.

This is our prime suspect.

Saturday night we decided to pick up some pizza. We took the dog and as usual she jumped into the back of our SUV I leaned in the side door and secured her into the back. We do this so she does not become a projectile should we get into some sort of accident. Everything looking good I jumped behind the wheel and backed out of the garage. CRRUUNNCH! My wife and I look at each other, WTF?

Neither my wife nor I closed the back of the car. When the back hatch is up it won’t clear the lip of the garage door. While the hatch was bent out of shape, we could open and close it but the door simply would not stay shut. It took us half an hour to figure out how to secure the bloody door so we could still drive the car. The inside of the door is smooth as is the outside, no holes, no latches nothing to secure a rope too. Eventually we were able to pry the back panel up just enough to spot a hole on either side of the door, I fit a bungee cord into each hole and I hooked the other end onto the mounts for the child safety seat. Worked like a charm. Now of course we have the bother of sorting things out with the insurance company and having the door either replaced or fixed. Not sure if they can fix it, and they are no longer making Saturn’s so it should be interesting.

This evening we had some errands that we had to run. Once again I made sure the back of the car wouldn’t spring open and off we went. Upon arrival back home I unlocked the front door, and as I was pulling my key out of the lock the key somehow slipped off the key ring and fell through the less than the quarter inch gap in the boards of our deck.

My key is down there.

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The Bubble Machine, The Magic Shop And the Police

Posted in Lifes Observations, tagged , , , on September 11, 2011| 2 Comments »

I’m not much of a practical joker. Truth is I really don’t like them at all but every now and again when the mood is just right I just can’t seem to help myself as is evident in a previous blog about a co-worker and a fish.

The local magic shop, when there was one, was located directly behind the bank where I used to work. Can you believe it? I’ve spent most of my life in the magic business. I left the West Coast, changed countries and in the process stepped out of the world of magic, (for the most part) and I end up working directly across the street from a magic shop. Talk about fate.

Beside the magic shop was a little boutique that sold handmade soap. The soap boutique had an automatic soap bubble maker/blower mounted on the wall between the two stores. On nice days the bubbles would blow onto the sidewalk.

I was sitting in the banks lunchroom, the large windows faced the magic shop. John, the owner of the magic shop was sitting on the stoop directly outside his door. I was eating my lunch watching the world, watching John, watching the old lady slowly meandering down the street, watching the pretty bubbles. Suddenly the old lady stops and turns toward John and starts pointing at him. I couldn’t hear anything and the windows didn’t open. One thing was clear the Lady was not happy. John kept pointing at the bubble maker and the soap boutique. I watched in fascination, clearly the lady was upset and yelling. A few people crossed the street to keep out of the situation. John kept shrugging and pointing at the store next to his, but the old woman was having none of John’s explanations. The only thing that made sense to me was that a bubble landed on the old woman and she thought it was John’s bubble maker and was telling him what she thought. After about five minutes or so the lady stormed off leaving John standing in front of his store scratching his head.

I finished my lunch and went back to work. But I could not shake the scene from my head. While serving a customer a plan began to form. I didn’t think it would work but I had to try. I spent the next few hours cementing the plan in my head. Finally my afternoon break came and I bolted for the lunch room and grabbed the phone and called the magic shop. I did not disguise my voice, either it would work or it wouldn’t.

The phone rings

John: “Hello, Abracadabra Magic”

Me: “Hello, may I please speak to the owner?”

John: “I am the owner, how may I help you?”

Me: “Mr. Oglivy?” (not John’s real last name)

John: “Yes?”

“My name is Officer Dale from the State College borough police, we have received a complaint about the bubble machine you have outside your store.”

“Officer you want the store next to mine, I tried to explain to the lady who yelled at me for 10 minutes that it is not my machine. It belongs to the people who own the store next to mine.”

“Mr. Oglivy I did go ahead and check the regulations about any such devices. I found that they have to be at least 15 feet back from the sidewalk or a permit is required. I checked the maps and on your street there is simply not enough clearance from the front of the building to the sidewalk to operate such a machine without a proper permit.”

John sounding frustrated: “Officer, as I explained to the lady, it is not my bubble…”

“You do have a permit to operate that bubble machine, don’t you Mr. Oglivy?”

“Officer I already expl…”

“Mr. Oglivy does your landlord know about the bubble…”

“Officer I…”

Me starting to sound agitated: “Mr. Oglivy please do not interrupt me again. I am going to come down with a city inspector to inspect the bubble machine and take some measurements and check your permits.”

“Officer, I tried explaining to the lady, and I’m trying to tell you, it is not my bubble machine it belongs to the store next door, clearly there has been a mistake.”

“Mr. Oglivy let me explain it this way. You are the owner of Abracadabra Magic and a complaint has been made against you and I have to follow up on this complaint. I explained the city ordinance and I will be out there later today to complete my report. If you don’t meet the requirements to operate such a device you will be given a citation at which point you can explain it all to a judge.”

“Officer, the bubble machine is not…Brian is that you?”

“Yes”

“You son of a bitch, are you at the bank?”

“Yup, saw the whole thing but could not hear a word”

“Bastard you really had me going. That lady was so mad and I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t mine but she just kept on yelling.”

Me laughing: “So I really had you going?”

“She was so mad, her calling the police wouldn’t surprise me, and you had all the details so yes you bastard you had me going the whole time.”

It is odd that the only two practical jokes I remember being involved in happened while I was at the bank. I guess that place just brought out the worst in me.

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