March 28, 2007

Jeeper Creeper

We're selling the Concorde in The Auto Trader. The last time I sold a car in The Auto Trader, it sold in 12 hours. That time, the ad was posted at midnight and I had cash from the buyer by noon. That car was a beater. This one's not.

I almost had the car sold before the ad was even posted. Once the ad was on the site and in the 'zine, the phone calls began. One call in particular creeped me out. I answered his questions about the vehicle and asked when he wanted to see it.
"Is the car at your home, at..." he stated my address.

I hadn't given him my address. I paused. He said that he had done a Reverse Look Up on my phone number and that's how he knew my address. He also had directions to the house, courtesy of Mapquest. For all I know, he was already looking at the car using the internet and Google Maps - Satellite. OK, you can't see the driveway on the satellite shot, but it's creepy.

Reverse Look Up gets its information from the telephone directory. As long as our phone number is published in the local book, our number is available to be Reversely-Looked-Up. Even if we requested an unlisted number, our number would still be available on the Reverse site. It's only if we change our status to unpublished that we could be excluded from their database, sometime in the next 3-6 months.

I did a Reverse Look Up on our telephone number, which is silly, because I know where I live. Then I clicked on the 'Find Your Neighbors' option, which, is also silly, because I already know our neighbors. The displayed results did not include our neighbors. It listed people who live on our street, but not the families who are really our neighbors. Which is odder, considering neither of our neighbors has an unpublished telephone number.

Imagine if I chose one of my new-found neighbors and knocked on his front door, (or maybe I should go to the side door? We're neighbors, after all.) and asked him to water our plants while we're away. Then I could explain that I found out he was my neighbor from Reverse Look Up on the internet. Then he could go to his computer and do a reverse look up and find some of his neighbors...

It's like that one Auto-Creeper set in motion a new version of Pay it Forward.

This version encourages Random Acts of Oddness, instead.

A neighbor is someone who can get to your house in less than a minute, and takes 2 hours to get back home. - O. A. Battista


      
   

March 20, 2007

Apple Pie Order

Nobody can tell a story the way my Uncle Angelo can. Recently, he related the following story. I hope I have done it justice.

In 1953, a strapping high school graduate named Angelo Pellegata, left his hometown of Detroit, Michigan to attend Adams State College in Colorado.

Angelo had offers to play football from some Big 10 schools, including Michigan and Michigan State. But it was Adams State College that courted him best. It was clear they wanted him. He wore # 48 for the Grizzlies.

Angelo was the Freshman Class Representative at Adams. This is a position of some prestige. In the fall of his freshman year, Margaret Mundy invited him to be her guest at the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Angelo thought it would be a white tie affair and was impeccably dressed in his finest suit. Off to the dance they went.

Upon their arrival, Angelo was surprised to see that dungarees was the dress code. He was the only student dressed formally. This did not dissuade him from entertaining his date and the other students. Uncle Angelo has a good time wherever he goes.

Partway through the evening, the emcee called 4 young men to the front of the hall. Angelo was among Gino, Donny and Tom, three upperclassmen. They were seated behind a table, facing the crowd. The emcee announced that a pie-eating contest was about to commence. The students gathered around to watch and cheer on the participants.

You have to understand that Angelo is a competitor. Today, at 70, he says: "I'm a better football player than Carl or Kenneth or Dean." These are his children. Adults now, they are tremendous athletes. Each of the Pellegata boys has played football at elite levels: from City Championships through State Finals and a few NCAA National Championship games.

Back to the story:
As the only freshman at the pie-eating table, Angelo felt he owed it to his class to eat more pies than the others in this contest. He knew he could do it.

Several pies were laid out before him. A blindfold was carefully placed over his eyes. "Go," the emcee roared to start the competition. Angelo dug in. Using his hands, he shovelled through the first pie. Then another. Then another. Even now, he describes the pies as "very tasty". He managed to eat some of the pies, wore some, and dropped some more. It wasn't important. What mattered was getting through more pies than Gino and Tom and Donny.

Angelo could hear the students cheering. "C'mon, Gino," someone yelled. "You've almost got him, Tom," hollered another student. Angelo, determined to win, dug into his fourth pie. The emcee called out, "Stop!".

The crowd was roaring its approval. Sure of his victory, Angelo slid the blindfold off his head...

..and discovered that he was alone at the table. The only one wolfing down the pies!

The whole thing was a set up. Gino, Donny and Tom had conspired against him. Margaret Mundy had been in on it the entire time. He could have lost his cool over the prank, but he didn't. Angelo could take it. And he could give it, too.

Uncle Ange always gets even. I have a strong suspicion Donny, Gino and Tom got their just desserts. Well, maybe not Tom.

Photo top right: Angelo Pellegata, 1953, from
The Conquistador (ASC Yearbook)

Photo at left: Angelo Pellegata, March 2007.

Photo credit: Michelle Henderson

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March 10, 2007

Justly Compelled

I'm reading a book about enlightened living. Get over your surprise on that one. I usually keep 2 books on the go - one upstairs and one downstairs. It's something to do when I'm infusing.

I try to live an enlightened life. I'm not talking about zen-meditation. To me, it's about accepting the challenges you face and overcoming them by facing them. It's deeper than that, but respecting the power of challenges is a cornerstone.

The author states the more enlightened you are in life, the more compulsive you are. My first thought was Wow! I know some incredibly enlightened people! The more I considered it, the more I believe that the author's statement is incorrect.

An enlightened life is about acceptance, not control; sustaining a ubiquitous higher level of awareness; reacting with solutions. Believe in the good, see the good, do the good, be the good. Not good versus evil, but goodness. Decency.

Compulsions are acts that are beyond one's control; but one does not necessarily accept them. In fact, a good compulsion should be deniable. For instance, I did not notice that this posting, so far, contains every letter of the alphabet save the letter 'x'.

So, I have to disagree with Shambhala. I believe that as one achieves enlightenment, he would more easily recognize compulsive behavior. Once identified, he would modify his response to the compulsion. I suppose then, it's possible to eliminate the acquired reflex altogether.

Whew! That feels better. Setting this straight has satisfied my neurotic need for accuracy.

Warning: Reviewing the post, looking for the usage of 'x' is compulsive behavior.

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March 01, 2007

Saying Goodbye

It's been at least 10 years since we first met. I knew in an instant that it was a heaven-sent match.

Over these past few years things have been different. You noticed it too. We've grown apart. Lately when I saw you, I was filled with such guilt that I had passed you by, without a glance.

I warmly remember the comfort you gave, unconditionally. The patience you reminded me to have. And hope. When we were together, it was easy to believe that anything was possible. A hug from you around my waist bestowed upon me great strength.

I will miss you, dear friend. You have provided an abundance of memories. It's time for me to heed the advice from so many and move on.

Today, with sadness, I discarded my favorite jeans in the universe.

I'll be OK.

Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. - Dr. Seuss (1904-1991)

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February 24, 2007

Suburban Smash

We were driving into the parking lot at Mimico Arena. Jessica's team was playing the first game of the North Metro Playoff series against Uxbridge.

Our usual spot was taken, but a large Suburban was pulling out of the spot beside that space. We waited for him to leave, so we could park there.

"Cut the wheel. Cut the wheel," I coached from inside our vehicle.
"He's going to hit that van," Jess said.
As she finished the sentence, BAM, the Suburban rammed into a Pontiac Montana parked across the lane.

The driver of the truck pulled forward and prepared to pull out of the parking lot. He stopped when I waved him down.

"You just hit that van," I told him. The van had rocked considerably upon being struck. He had to know!
"Oh," he said. He put the shifter into reverse and added, "I guess I'd better check it out then."

The driver of the Suburban made a big display of checking the van out for damage. He stood back, like he was having trouble seeing the door. He shrugged. He walked from the front to the rear of the vehicle, all the while peering closely at the side panels. It was a terrible performance.

We went into the arena and asked people in the lobby if they owned the Montana. I asked the fans watching a game from the boards. I went up to the stands and asked. I interrupted the mini-stick game under the booth and asked the fans in the Home stands. Jackpot.

The owner of the van came out to the parking lot, to find the Suburban was gone. It was easy to see the dent, stretching about 4 feet along the sliding door and passenger door of the van. The owner of the van looked to see if some contact information had been left under the wiper blade. None. Back in the lobby, I gave Jim my contact information and the plate # of the truck.

Mr. Suburban-driver had been watching two teams of 9 and 10 year-old girls play a non-competitive house-league game at the arena. I hope he wasn't one of the coaches. Imagine this dressing room talk: 'OK, girls, we're here to have fun. So make sure when you're out there...if you do something wrong, like hit another player, well, just do your best to get away with it.'

Go to No Access to Health Treatment

February 22, 2007

Kicking Cancer II

My sister, Michelle has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

I'm sure she rehearsed her delivery before dialling my number to tell me. I knew that she had rehearsed how to open the discussion with her doc. Neither went the way she planned. I answered the phone, "Hello?"
"It's cancer," she said.
I did what any sister would do...made her laugh.

"This can't be happening. I can't have cancer," she said. And this time I responded with something incredibly profound. "No," she insisted. "I can't have cancer. I don't have enough boots. I only have one pair that is really spectacular." Read Giving Cancer the Boot

Luckily, Roni, a step ahead, provided a kick-ass care package that arrived at Michelle's door the next day.

Link to Michelle's Blog

February 21, 2007

In the News


USC hockey goalie hits bottom.

Full moon has no effect on outcome of game.




Rise of the Machine: New 12-Step Program

oops- that sound means that I have mail.

February 14, 2007

The Scoop

Ben and Jerry's has announced their newest flavor:



Seems to me, Marketing missed the boat. Shouldn't they have looked for a Colbert tie-in to a sherbert?

Over the past 8-months, Colbert has

  • been rumored to host The Grammy Awards (he didn't) ;


  • had a mascot named in his honor: Saginaw Spirit's Steagle Colbeagle of the Ontario Hockey League ;


  • had a day named in his honor: Oshawa will celebrate Stephen Colbert Day on March 20, 2007 ;


  • forced Wikipedia to shut down access to its entry about elephants, after Colbert suggested viewers of his show modify the information about the worldwide Elephant population, and


  • coined the word 'truthiness' and seen it named Word of the Year (2006)

Colbert is said to be donating his earnings from the ice cream to The Americone Dream Fund, a newly-formed charitable foundation that will distribute money to as-yet-unnamed causes.

You know what happens when ice cream is over-exposed? It gets freezer burn and loses its flavor.



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Note: The use of sherbert above is deliberate. Goes with Colbert.
Sherbet is the more widely-used term that describes a fruity frozen dessert similar to an ice. Sherbert is also accepted, as is sorbet.