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Intellectual Snob
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1769
And the boy calls, he's wondering if he can come and stay with me for a few days.
I'm delighted, of course, but am wondering why this all of a sudden, especially with the cats and his allergies -
His mom takes the phone:
"I just wanted to say that your boy has grown up to be JUST LIKE YOU! And I can't take it anymore so he's going to come to live with you and..."
And she carries on, she's having a bit of a fit. The boy, he's in his early teens, you knew it would come to this sooner or later, but I'm a bit surprised that she should accuse him of being "just like me", which seems a bit harsh, and I'm surprised because we've gotten along, more or less, the past 15 years pretty good and so - well, to be the victim of her righteous wrath right now....
There's a pause for a moment in her ranting and I slip in a question - "What's he done?" I ask, and this is an invitation for her to start again....
"He's an intellectual snob..." she finishes, and it's fair enough, I can see this and it's probably time the boy and I had a little talk. We make our plans.
When we get together I explain to him the rules, assign him Lord Chesterfield to read, punishment enough when you're 15, and I ask what precipitated this outburst....
"We were having a discussion and she was arguing that material things don't define you and I explained that I thought they did...." and I sympathize, he's doomed, there's a few years ahead where he's going to have to hide his light under a bushel and I explain that there's some things some people don't want to talk about and for the next few years he can't win. He accepts it.
Vacuuming
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2331
Now there's 10 minutes worth of vacuuming to be done and I'm on a bit of a roll, I think I might manage to get to it today. I've already:
- Made the Bed
- Washed the Dishes
- Started the laundry
- Scooped the kitty litter
And so the vacuuming, it should get done. I've agonized over it for several weeks, the carpet getting worse and worse in the meantime, going from a cream color to the putrid orange of a certain cat, I've watched it, restless, from the sofa thinking to myself that if only I could just vacuum I would be able to move on to unpacking the office, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping the entry way...
If only.
I've wondered what's so tough about this, that I need spend countless hours avoiding something that would take me all of 10 minutes to do, avoiding something that would allow me to breathe easier, move forward with my new clean life in the New Year, I've analyzed myself and thought that it must be a mental illness, something rare and undiagnosed and probably incurable, I've shaded my eyes as I walk up the stairs so I wouldn't see the wool-nuts and lint caught in the carpet, wondered at the issues that would allow me to live with, live in, however uncomfortably, such a mess, I've thought back to my childhood and tried to identify the underlying issues that must have led to this, the hopelessly dirty carpet.
And I think that maybe I'm over intellectualizing things and maybe I should just vacuum.
And finally I did. It took ten minutes. Now I have to unpack the office.
Oil Change
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2229
I've never in my life gotten an oil change, but it's not my car and so it will be done. One is better to other people's possessions than one is to one's own.
It's an 8:00 AM appointment at the VW dealership, 8:00 AM because I was taken off guard and couldn't be bothered to argue. 8:00 AM.
I should get up at 8:00 AM more often, think of all the things I could get done!
So at 8:00 AM, or shortly thereafter I check the car into the shop. It's an oil change, but it's a regular - every 10,000 KM servicing as well, and as he's telling me what needs doing I'm noticing the shop hours posted - $150.00, $175.00, One Million Dollars an hour, + depending on the make of your car. And he's checking the service record, telling me they'll need to purge the fuel injectors and this and that and I'm getting a bit dizzy, I wave my hand..."Just how much will it be, all told?".
"Around $500.00"
"Is there anything wrong with it?" I ask.
"No, no, well, we hope not. This is just regular maintenance".
Now me, I always thought people bought new cars so they wouldn't be confronted with bills like this, not have them scheduled in as a "matter of fact", but then, what do I know. It'll take them a couple of hours, I wander over to the mall, not open except for the Tim Hortons, pick up a coffee and sit down to wait. I'll need to get a job. Soon. Fortunately, wandering around the mall I can see lots of the shops are hiring. There's no end to opportunity here.
Eventually it's after 10:00 and I return to pick up the car. Everything is fine, $508.00 later, and they've booked me in in another 6 months. He tells me they've added some fuel additive to the gas, I should fill the car to get my "Maximum Value" out of it, and I'm thinking that they've changed the oil, dumped some fuel additive into the gas tank and just billed me over $500.00. I'd want to see me soon as well. Who in life chooses to become a doctor? Why would you when you could become a Volkswagen Mechanic and earn probably double, on better hours and with far, far less work?
Love in Excess - Eliza Haywood
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
- Hits: 1638
Now it is of the period - 1719 - 1720, and adheres to almost all of the ridiculous conventions of the time - disguises, secret rendezvous, the replacing of one party with another in bed, coincidences and mistaken identities, in terms of plot it is not even slightly plausible - not even for the period.
But such is the time.
On the other hand Eliza Haywood was the first novelist to endow her female characters with the same motives and desires as the male ones. Which makes it exceptional. And, add to that her way of putting the most eloquent speeches in their mouths and you have some curious speeches indeed:
"And are you that dull, cold Platonist, which can prefer the visionary pleasures of an absent mistress, to the warm transports of the substantial present?" The Count was pretty much surprized at these words, coming from the mouth of a woman of honour, and began now to perceive what her aim was...
Curious. File next to Chesterfield, Laclos and Casanova...
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