Call Me 'Heff'

Written Friggin' Ages Ago: 

Really, I have so much to talk about.

Today's lesson is that when you're going to the fair and you're baffled by that, be thankful.

Andie and I brought nothing to a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by our most flamboyant friend.
There was nut loaf to eat and 'tofurkey' to avoid and people whose names I forget.
We all said what we were thankful for (I included "gangsta rap" in my list to seem less mushy.)
Then I worked on dessert while everyone talked about the Fall Fair.
And hark! How the dogs ran at the Fall Fair today!
You must go to the fair!
Which meant I must go to the fair, which we did the following day.
I kept thinking I'd be able to eat waffles there for some reason, and it would therefore be okay.
It was okay.
There weren't any waffles, but I ate a deep-fried Oreo that wasn't repulsive and I'm visualizing one in my hand right this minute and it's decadent.
There was indeed a dog show.
They caught frisbees and raced over hurdles.
The most entertaining dogs were those who were in it for the participation ribbons.
Those who were not really sure which way to go on the course, stepping over the occasional hurdle.
They were losing so terribly, but they weren't letting that ruin their day whatsoever.
I'd imagine that watching the Special Olympics would be similarly charming - well it would!

I was face to face with a cow's anus when the cow pooed and I think that will stay with me for a long time.
Like, the anus was right there and I looked at it right then, at that moment.
"Oh, it's another cow and his, oh, what's he doing?"
Like that.
Pretty mesmerizing.
The stables also housed the biggest horses and cows I'd ever seen.
The Clydesdale I could see in my memory, adorned giants at some other fair from some other time and age long since past.
Their height and strength were profound, and when they shuffled and reared in their stalls, I couldn't help but do the same out of mild fear.
Some of them were coloured obsidian and their manes were night as well.
Their tails were a tight bun like a samurai's knot, sprung from flanks that would make any man's bicep look ridiculous.
Even the smaller horses looked imposing and unstoppable, leaving me to think, "Yeah, I could see how 450 of you could equal a sports car."
But the heifers.
Get out and walk.*
I honestly, truly mean this at the age of 31 when I say I didn't think cows could be this big.
Like zambonis without the wheels. 
Blue ribbon bovines, every one of them.
The largest all seemed to be laying down.
So, perhaps reclining cows just look bigger than I realized.
More likely, however, is that they were so goddamn big they only use their legs when sleeping.
They just stay in one place and grass is fed to them.
Because they've earned it.
And the youngest farmhand has to root them around once a day with a canoe paddle so the cows don't develop sores.

No one taught these pricks at the table adjacent mine that public places aren't their home.

The petting zoo went without saying.
What a funny little pen to watch.
Animals wandering every which way, not really sure what to do with themselves, accompanied by toddlers in the exact same boat.
They had two donkeys, and I kept thinking:
"Too cramped. One of these burros is going to kick a kid in the face and it's not going to be as funny as I assume."
A little less AFV, a little more CSI.
Fortunately, no humans were harmed in the writing of this post.
Some of them definitely tried their best, though; tugging on this animal part and that animal part.
Rolling around in the sawdust.
I've never been one to fear germs, but one chip of wood from that floor contained more animal urine than every hamster cage in Nova Scotia combined.
Get your kid up off the floor.
It's great that they're enjoying themselves, but let's display a tiny bit of discipline here.
Andie was having a great time herself.
She'd bought a cup of grain and she was desperately trying to befriend a llama with it.
Desperately.
But, his other llama buddy ate it all instead.
The pigs careened around, ornery and confident, and I thought some kid was going to be upended at any second.
Then, the cowpoke made to attend the petting zoo entered with an ear of corn, saying, "Here. Here's your corn."
Though he didn't say it, I know he thought "fuckin' corn" in his head.
Andie hit this guy up for another cup of grain.
She fed some to a cow as I stroked its nose and it ate and ignored me.
Suddenly, she exclaimed, "He ate it all. He ate the paper! The whole cup is gone! What do we do?!"
To which I said, "Don't worry, he probably eats four or five of those per hour."
Four stomachs.
Still, we figured it was time to mozy.
On the way out, we patted the pony, which was the only fenced-off animal in the pen.
As we did so, the pony coughed, and this cough sounded like it could come from any adult male human.
It was really something.
It sounded so much like a person, you could almost hear the pony go, "Hrum! 'Scuse me" afterward.
Andie mentioned to the dude on the way out, "Um, we heard the pony coughing."
Arms crossed, leaned back, he responds, "I keep tellin' people not to feed him."
Yeah right, buddy. You didn't tell us that.
The paper cup was probably the highlight.
By now I've learned that if Andie reacts to something, it's best to just start taking pictures.

*"Get out and walk" is an expression that my brother Colin uses sometimes.
It's tough to translate, but it sort of means, "Put that in your pipe and smoke it," or "Whadya think of that?" Or...something.

It Is What It Ain't

Que Sera, Sera.

In bed, comparing proportions:
Me: Your hands aren't that impressive. My fingers are bigger than yours.
She: Yeah, you've got piano hands.
Me: Then why was I so shitty at piano as a kid?
She: You probably don't have piano wrists.
True.
And I didn't practice.

It is what it is, these days.
In the vain of "Whadya gonna do?" And, "M'eh, fuck it," this new expression has caught on as an all-encompassing dismissal for mailmen and crab fishermen alike.
As with most trends, I'm for and ag'in it.
Philosophically, is truly is what it is.
It couldn't be otherwise.
If a bridge collapses on you while driving to work, well, what else can your funeral buddies say about it?
It's a phrase borne of apathy and rationality alike.
Things must play out as they do, and history will repeat itself.
Politicians are corrupt, sadly. But politicians will be as they have been.
Purse snatchings will happen.
Concerts will sell out just as you reach the ticket wicket.
Countries with the strongest economies will win more golds at The Olympics.
Ultimately, it is better to accept things as they have come to be, and move on.
It's a softening of what is hard, these facts of life.
Let's just roll with it.
Truly, I think it's one of the more sensible doctrines that society has chewed upon for a while.
Although, it does hang in the air somewhat.
Only shitty things, as it turns out, are.
No one would claim something positive to be what it is.
It's not like you go on a flight, and while touching down the guy beside you celebrates the safe landing by unbuckling his seatbelt, standing hunched beneath his overhead compartment, bellowing, "It is what it is, guys!
Flight!"
No.
It only 'is' when coping.
When resolving to endure.
Simply, when things are bad.
And things shouldn't just be when  they're bad.
The expression, then, deviates from this beautiful concept of accepting the nature of things to something more bleak.
"It is what it is. Deal with it."
It's an acceptance of things being shitty before entertaining other possibilities.
It's the easy way out.
The philosophical tone of this uttering, which I've always liked most about it, ultimately proves to be a veneer.
People aren't really considering the fate of things when they say it.
On the contrary; they're dismissing the fate of things.
Philosophical thought wouldn't abide, "You can't fight what's shitty."
Instead, it would challenge this with the question:
Need it be shitty in the first place?
I'd like to think that the answer is 'no'.
Someone steals your car stereo cause that's how things are.
Your girlfriend's late.
This asshole just cut you off and you can hear your own cursing easily because you no longer have a stereo to drown yourself out with.
I wouldn't say, "It is what it is."
Things aren't too bad just because they're too bad.
Things are too bad because people refuse to be considerate of one another.
Racism. Sexism. Every 'ism' could be wiped clean with the right frame of mind.
So, instead, I would propose that, "It is as it is."
People are this way because they are this way.
But I would never concede that they are this way because they have to be.
Of course, no one will be using the expression in a year's time, so...
Whatever will be will be, I guess.

Can I Change My Answer?

Wax everything that grows hair.
It's Friday.

This happened.
So, the other day I'm heading to Ace for a Po'Boy because that's what a cool guy does.
I'm waiting for the light to change, standing beside a 40-something...whatever.
Man.
Meanwhile, another guy is approaching us as he crosses the street.
He's pushing a shopping cart.
Now, this isn't because he's down on his luck (like countless dudes seem to be in this city).
He's too young for that.
What instead seems more likely is that this person recently stole a shopping cart from an actual homeless person.
He's making eye contact with me and I already dislike him.
Not because of the eye contact -
"How dare you look upon me!" -
But because I can tell that this guy was a pain in the ass in high school.
He points at me while pushing/walking, and says, "Are you Jewish?"
So, I say, "Not today, buddy."
Then he points to the dude beside me and asks, "Are you Jewish?"
Suddenly, the light changes.
And as he begins crossing the street, he goes, "What the fuck kind of question is that?"
While I start walking myself, I think, "Aw man. That's what I should've said."