10

"Hi there!  Welcome to the class!  And you are..?"
"Too old and fat to even be trying this."

 

The problem with most forms of exercise is that you have to be in good shape to do them.  Running, spin class, Pilates, golf.  Well no, not golf.  All you need are plaid knickers, an elitist attitude, and off you go.  But many other exercises are just a heart attack waiting.

I thought it would be interesting to take a yoga class.  I know nothing about yoga.  But I already own a pair of yoga pants in a darling shade of pink, and they are sooooooo comfortable.  That had to be a good sign, right?

Well at first, all went reasonably well.  I'm in this studio-size gymnasium-type room, after meeting the super-nice teacher.  I unwrap a ½ centimetre thick yoga mat onto a hard wooden floor, but there's tons of blankets and giant pillows everywhere.  It looks like a slumber party with several complete strangers.  Then suddenly we're folding up the blankets to support and raise various parts of the body, so other parts can stretch unnaturally.  It's complicated - I have to listen and watch carefully to see exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.  But at least I'm lying down.  My rib cage is poking up well above my chin, but other than breathing, not a lot of effort so far.  Then after a couple of different positions, it's up and over to the wall.  I don't like the looks of that wall.  Everything there seems frightening, in a medieval torture sort of way.

There's this device – it looks like padded swing-seat, with belts that attach to the wall by karabiners.  All I have to do is settle my hips into this thing, walk my bare feet way up the wall, bend my knees, and fall over backwards.  I am then to hang there upside down for about 5 minutes.  As the blood drained into my face, and pounding started in my ears, and disorientation set in, I began to wonder – how in God's name am I going to get back on to my feet?  I am in no position to click my heels 3 times... Luckily, the super-nice teacher rescued me.

Can't say I'm much of a fan of the Downward Dog pose.  I kept getting this excruciating cramp in the back of my right foot.  Bad dog!  Baaaaaad dog!

But I made it through the class.  And I actually enjoyed it.  I have to admit, my body did feel more limber, with a nice energy flow, like all the toxins had been released.  As I headed home, I walked back to where I had parked my car in a mall - right next to a McDonald's.  No, I didn't give in.  But I can tell you this – when your toxins are low, yes -- you do want fries with that....

 

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

If aliens ever do visit Earth, there is zero point trying to communicate.  We have nothing to say that would interest them.  They are just here to eat our brains.  It's pretty much the only thing Hollywood has ever gotten right.  The best and only strategy would be, get them before they get us.  Which almost certainly wouldn't be possible with their infinitely superior technology – they fly a million light years through the frozen void of space, and we're not supposed to go 4 months without an oil change.  So prepare to meet your Maker with as much dignity as you can.  Why do we keep sending out our little drone spaceships to find them?  At least it's Stephen Hawking footing the bill now, but seriously, why are we putting out a welcome mat for the Borg?

9

"That is one big pile of..."

My very first Royal Horse Show.  They keep the pile outside the back of the building.  It's tossed down a chute, and the second you get off the streetcar, there it is, reassuring you that you are indeed very close to a LARGE number of well-fed horses.

I actually went to see the jumping competition.  But it's like a rock concert. You have to sit through all the opening acts before you get to see The Rolling Stones.

Seconds after the show started, I realized I was decidedly underdressed.  Out come all these little buggies pulled by ponies, with drivers decked out like it's 1900.  (I would not have done well back then – I am not a 'hat person.')  Then there were all the young ladies giving out the prizes.  Teetering along through several inches of dirt their long evening gowns and high heels.  I felt sorry for the littlest one who was clearly terrified of approaching 6 huge Percherons, tossing their heads and stomping the ground with legs like parking meters.  I give her credit for a decent pitching arm; the way she just threw that prize ribbon up to the carriage driver.

 

I've never outgrown my love of horses.  I've always thought they were the most beautiful creatures God ever put on this planet.  In my much younger days, I used to ride whenever I could find an opportunity.  But then, after that whole Christopher Reeve thing – appreciating horses from the ground seems a lot safer.

Certainly safer than what this guy does for a living.

Every so often he'd come out in his dirt Zamboni and whiz around with all the grace of a New York City cab driver.  Somehow always managing to miss that mound of pony poop right in the middle of the coliseum.

This guy was amazing.

 

He's part of the Cavallo Equestrian Arts display.  And yes, he's doing exactly what it looks like – standing with right and left feet on the backs of 2 different horses, while they gallop around the ring.  Eventually they run around a much smaller ring, one behind the other, while another member of the troop somersaults from the back of one horse to the other.  Major ooohhhs and aaahhhs. 

Finally we got to the jumping.

 

 

This always has me on pins and needles watching on TV, hoping they don't knock any poles down and no one gets hurt.  I especially hate this type of fence.

The one disguised as a concrete wall, but really it's just stacked hollow wooden blocks.  This one is painted to resemble the Toronto skyline. Can you make out the CN Tower?  How cute, eh?  But I hate these things because they look like they could hurt somebody.  And of course, this nightmare is pretty much right in front of my seat.  I waited for the inevitable, which came in the form of Canadian rider Vanessa Mannix, whose horse, Carolien, refused at the very last second, and crashed right into the fence, blocks flying everywhere.  I was incredibly relived to see that a strap of her tack was broken, meaning she couldn't continue and the horse would be examined by a vet immediately.

It must have been a tough course.  Out of 21 riders, there were only 2 clear rounds, none unfortunately by a Canadian.  Still, it was a thrill to see our top Canadian jumper, Ian Millar, in person.  Here he is, on Teddy.

 

I thoroughly enjoyed the evening.  I didn't even mind going home smelling like manure.  I don't know what people's problem is with that stuff.  I think it smells pretty decent. But then, I like the sound of bagpipes and I absolutely hate the taste of mustard.   So I could be considered a bit odd...

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

 
Minimum wage is not intended to be a living wage.  It is intended to be temporary and/or supplemental.  If you are not getting paid the amount that you need to maintain a comfortable lifestyle, I do understand that.  But there is a solution besides constantly whining that you can't pay the rent on your 2-bedroom apartment in a major city on minimum wage.  I'd be surprised if you could.  So find another job that pays more, confirm your start date, and then quit your current job.  If you cannot find another job no matter how hard you try, then your main problem is not a low minimum wage figure.  Maybe we're in a serious economic downturn, and we should all be grateful for the jobs we have.  But if the times are average, and there is hiring going on, then the problem is YOU (sorry!).  Once again, be grateful for the job you have.  If you want more money – and hey, who doesn't? – then earn it.

8

 

Check out the back of his head.  If he was painted green, he would totally look like Shrek, right? 

I had never seen a panda bear.  Which is not surprising since I don't get out much (of the country, that is).  I thought they were black and white.  They always are in cartoons and such.  But in person, they're black and kind of a grungy cream colour, even patches of dark brown.  But still very cute. 

This is Da Mao, which means something or other in Chinese.  I don't remember, and I can't pronounce it, so I'm just going to call him Fred.

 

 

Fred brought a girlfriend with him when moved into our Zoo.  But he promptly knocked her up, and she had twins recently.  Wilma and the babies are in living in separate quarters now, and frankly, Fred doesn't seem too bothered by this.  It's not like he's gone off his appetite or anything.  When I got there, Fred was eating.  That's pretty much all he did.

 

 

He did get up and walk around a bit, but he was just looking for more food.

Fred eats 50-60 kg of bamboo every day.   But it doesn't ruin his figure.  Bamboo mostly consists of cellulose.  Which is great if you're a termite;  not so much if you're a panda.  Panda bears cannot digest cellulose.  The only nutrient value they get is from whatever else is in bamboo.  The cellulose they poop out.  The zoo has a pile of it on display under glass.  A 40-minute drive and $35 to look at bear crap.   I can see that in the woods. 

Still, I'm glad I got to see Fred.  He and the family are here for a limited time only.  I think it's nice that Fred gets so many visitors, because he's all alone in his house.  Although apparently, pandas are not very sociable creatures.  Who wants to hang around with somebody who does nothing but eat all day?

I do like our Zoo.  Although the signage is terrible.  I walked for ages and ages before I finally found the African Savanna.   I might as well have trekked to the actual continent, now that it's mostly Ebola-free.

 

 

But these 2 were waiting to greet me – how could I pass that up?  These are Kiko and Mstari.  Aren't they beautiful?  (It's probably only a matter of time before Bob Barker insists they have to move to California, too.)

I think our Zoo takes great care of the animals.  Plus they're good stewards of the environment.  Recycling only!  Don't try throwing anything away – this guy will take your fingers off!

 

 

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

If there's no reason that you know of for an increase in your car insurance (accident, traffic ticket, move to a higher-crime area, change in your driving situation such as now driving to work or using your car for work, etc.), you should never, ever, accept it when the insurance company tells you that your rate has gone up because there have been "a high number of accidents in your area and everyone's rates in general have gone up."  That incredibly lame excuse should be interpreted as the insurance company telling you they don't want your business anymore.  So don't disappoint them.  Dump them.  It's easy to find a lower rate provided you have a clean driving record and a car that's simply one year older.  Car insurance companies count on us to be gullible and lazy.  Shop around.  There are several websites that will produce multiple quotes. And never use a broker for car insurance unless you have no choice (e.g. a horrible driving record or no driving record).  They have no incentive to find you the lowest rate.

7

Unless you're a brain surgeon, there is nothing that quite prepares you for the yechhhh that is the inside of a pumpkin...

In the 30 years that I have lived under my own roof, I have never been much of a one for celebrating Halloween.  (I either go out, or close the blinds, turn off all the lights and hide in my basement.)  But this year, I decided to June Cleaver the heck out of the day.

For people that know me well, do not be concerned that participating in such a pagan ritual will get this grizzled, old Anglican churchwarden stripped of her position.  (Trust me when I tell you, nobody else wants my job.)  For us Protestant Christians, the supernatural has no association whatsoever with Halloween.  It is simply All Hallows Eve, the day before All Saints Day, a Christian feast day.

I did my share of trick-or-treating as a youngster, so it was time to give back.  Also, far more critically I think, this was an opportunity to be more visible to my neighbours.  Within the last several  months, there have been 2 break-ins on my block, both on my side of the street, so the locals are a wee bit nervous.  This was a great way to see and be seen by people who live nearby, and their children – the perfect weather allowing lots of mini-chats with wandering folks, from my porch.

If you're going to do Halloween, you've got to decorate.  Thanks to Wal-Mart, you can do it for practically nothing.  Some scary light reflectors for the lawn, an orange light bulb, a string of festive, mini orange lights for the porch railing, and I'm ready for an invasion of kids.  What's that?  I'm missing something?  Oh, that's right – a pumpkin! 

This is the gross part.  I could have used some festive orange latex gloves to clean this thing out.  Along with all the goo, there were about 200 seeds.  Well, go big or go home, right?  The only thing to do with all those seeds – roast them, of course!  

 

They're yummy!  Add white pepper for extra flavour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay – you've waited patiently to see my very first candle-lit Halloween pumpkin...Here it is!
 

Pretty cool, eh?  (Good thing I took a photo when I did.  I left it out overnight, and a raccoon chewed off one leg and the thorax.)

It was a fun night.  I gave out all the candy, met lots of people, saw some great costumes – a few too many that were store-bought though.  (I usually made mine.)  And for the most part, the kids, or their parents, remembered to say thank you.  When the first of several kids arrived at my door with no loot bag and shouted "trick-or treat," I thought this was very odd.  Until they turned around to reveal an open back-pack filled with candy.  That's either just flat-out wrong – or very efficient.  I'm still trying to make up my mind.

And when someone knocked on my door dressed as the Grim Reaper, that kid got extra candy.  Anything to get rid of him (just in case it wasn't a costume).

One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...

Email and fax spammers are not the problem.  They want to make a buck, just like the rest of us.  They have bills to pay, too.  Yes, it's a bottom-of-the-barrel way to make a living.  We all think they're scummy.  But they do it because it works.  The problem is that very small percentage of people who respond.  If only humans could all get together as a species and collectively decide to never, ever, ever, ever make a purchase as a result of receiving an unsolicited email or fax, the spammers would eventually stop.  Why continue to do something that yields zero results?  But unfortunately, there will always be idiots out there in the market for enlargement creams and Nigerian inheritances.  We need to invent intelligent keyboards that realize what the idiot is up to, and just Taser them slightly.