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Valentine’s Props

A Valentine’s Tale

This story was originally told to me by one of my psychology profs at University. It is about an exchange between her and her young son, and the result of that exchange. I’m embelleshing the story a little, by fooling around with the format (third person vs. first person).

Some small details might have changed slightly, as I am getting old and my memory is failing, but the bulk of it is spot-on. For the ease of the story we’ll call my prof Mrs. BF and we’ll call her son Danny

Mrs. BF and her husband had friends over every Valentine’s Day. It was an annual ritual that they looked forward to. She was in the kitchen, preparing dinner when her son walked in.

” Hey mom, ” he said.

” Hello, sweetie, ” she replied, ” Is there something I can do for you? “

” Not really, ” smiled the six-year-old tyke.

” Really? ” She looked dubious.

” Well, ” he scuffed his feet together, shy about what he was about to say, ” I was wondering if I could help with stuff? “

Mrs. BF looked surprised. Her eyes softened, and she tousled his hair, ” That’s very sweet, Danny. “

Danny blushed and hugged his mom’s leg.

Mrs. BF looked around the kitchen for something her son could do. She still needed to take care of dinner and set the table. He was too small to handle hot cookware, and a little too clumsy to handle the china, so she decided that she would let him have a very special job.

” Danny, ” she reached over and grabbed the cake that she had baked and iced earlier that afternoon, ” I have a big job for you. “

” Really? ” he looked excited.

” Yes, ” she winked, walking over to the kitchen table and placing the cake down on it. She grabbed a tube of red frosting and helped him up onto the chair, ” I would like you to decorate the cake. “

” Really? ” he looked stunned, ” REALLY, Mom? “

” Yes, ” she smiled, foldly remembering him watching her decorate a birthday cake earlier that year, ” Your writing is much neater now than it used to be, and I think it’s time for you to do some grown-up stuff. “

” That’s so cool! ” he beamed.

” Here you go, ” she gave him the tube.

” Um, ” he scratched his head with his free hand, ” What should I do? “

” Why don’t you write Happy Valentine’s Day? ” she went to the refrigerator and removed one of the cards she had received, placing it on the table next to the cake, ” You can use that as a guide. “

” Wow! Thanks, mom! ” Danny kissed her, and looked at the cake, sizing it up.

Mrs. BF was too busy to supervise the tyke, but she would steal glances as she walked by. She took note of how careful he was writing each letter.

A fair amount of time had gone by, and she saw the word Happy in surprisingly neat, large letters on the cake.

After that, she paid him no mind, allowing him to do his special job, allowing herself to trust him complete his task.

The guests were about to arrive, and she was straightening out the dining room table when she heard him call out from the kitchen.

” Mom, I’m done! ” he sounded very proud, ” Did you want to check it? “

She had her hands full, and didn’t really have time to spare to see his handiwork. She figured she’d enjoy it later.

” No, it’s okay Danny, ” she called, back, ” Just put the lid on it, and we’ll serve it later! “

” Okay, ” he replied.

A few minutes later he came out of the kitchen, all smiles. He ran up to his mom and hugged her.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Company had arrived.

A sumptuous dinner came and went, and Mrs. BF went to the kitchen to fetch the cake that she made and her son decorated.

She brought it out in its container with the opaque lid still on, aiming to maximize her pride in her son by making it a big presentation, and placed it on the table in front of everyone.

” I now present to you the great work of Danny the cake decorator, ” she then lifted the lid off of the cake with a flourish.

There was stunned silence, and then good-natured laughter followed by clapping all around the table.

It seems that Danny had not budgeted his space properly, and the latter part of the message had to be abbreviated…



HAPPY V.D.



Props

I don’t normally give into the commercialism of Valentine’s Day.

I think it’s important to share well-wishes with your loved ones often, and not just on special days.

To that end, here are three haiku for three people I mentioned recently…


To the Blife
You make blogging fun
Keep DC warm for our gang
Don’t hog the blossoms


To the Mife
You rock all kinds, dude
Thanks for your support and your
Eternal friendship


To My Wife
What else can I say?
The world is a better place
With you living here


Love to all,

J

Logan Wins the Fight

Logan Wins the Battle Against Age-Old Nemesis

Asourceiated Press


Toronto – Today, Logan the cat did battle with his greatest enemy – his tail. For years the tail has tormented him. Swishing about tantalizingly this way and that, teasing Logan about how he could never catch such an elusive quarry





Who won the battle of the century?




Logan had attempted to catch his enemy for years, only to be met with failure. It was once thought that he would be forced to run in circles for eternity until he proved everyone wrong by managing to catch the tail unawares in the kitchen early Sunday morning.


In a brilliant move, Logan somersaulted onto his nemesis and held him down. The tail jittered nervously back and forth, trapped beneath the powerful forepaws of the black cat.


Logan swatted the tail a few times, enforcing who was boss. The tail attempted to get away, but Logan managed to flip over onto the runner again, causing the tail to lose hope.


Moping, the tail signed a peace agreement with Logan, vowing to never tease him again.





Logan was introspective after his victory.




The thought on everyone’s mind, though, is that the tail is actually much smarter than Logan, and will most likely violate the terms of the agreement, wreaking havok on Logan’s inadequate mind in the future.

The Winds Monster

The Winds of Change

My friend Mike had a wonderful phrase about the winds of change.

He decided to do a graphical representation, sending it out to our normal crew…




I decided to follow up with this sign…




I suppose I should have posted my sign first.



I’ve Created a Monster

On Monday, my wife and I both had a really bad day.

On normal nights, well spend our time together watching TV, talking and sometimes playing a board game.

On rare occasions, we’ll play something relatively tame on the Nintendo GameCube.

I figured that nothing would get our minds off of the day than a bit of mayhem.

So I suggested we play Soul Calibur II.

This is a 3D fighting game involving a variety of weapons. No blood, just animated violence. The basic controls are simple, and yet there is capacity to utilize the interface to do some spectacular movements.

Mrs. Jorge agreed, and so I trained her on how to use the interface.

I have to admit, that after four rounds where I didn’t try very hard to let her win, I soon found myself struggling to stay alive.

She apparently found her favourite character right off the mark, and proceeded to kick seven kinds of shit out of me.

Behold the face of my killer…




That just isn’t right.

The Proposal

Frequently Asked

One of the many questions that people ask me is how I ended up proposing to Mrs J. Well, here you go…



Life Changes

It was a few short days after my car accident and my heart was racing. In my pocket was a highly-desired object, worth much more than just money. It was worth a lifetime.

I had set up the surprise with stealth and finesse. There was no way she could possibly know what was in store for her that night…



The Ultimatum

On Valentine’s Day my girlfriend (then: Miss J now: Mrs. J) took me out for dinner to Sassafraz, a trendy place in Yorkville.

The upshot was that she told me I had to propose before the end of the year. Or else.

Well, she never actually said or else, nor did she give any consequences for failure to meet her demand*. I knew, though, that ultimatums should never be taken lightly when given by the following people…

  • Evil scientists sitting in high-backed chairs gently stroking a siamese cat
  • One-legged men wearing an eye patch and brandishing a cutlass
  • GWB – clueless he may be, but his army is very, very large
  • Girlfriends (later, wives)

I was planning on proposing before the end of the year anyway (so there). This just confirmed that it would be a good idea.

Not to mention that it was only February, so I had plenty of time to scheme…



The Choice

The last thing I wanted was for the following to happen…


[The scene opens with Jorge on one knee at Miss J’s feet.]
Jorge: [Taking Miss J’s hand in his.] My dearest, will you marry me? [Offers her the ring box.]
Miss J: [Tears welling up.] Oh my God…
[Miss J takes the box and opens it. Tears of horror replace the tears of joy as she looks upon a solitary large, yellow diamond mounted on a ring made of pink gold.]
Jorge: [Looking hopeful.] So…do you like it?
Miss J: [Trying to look happy.] Errrr…Yes…uh…[Sprays Jorge with mace, and flees to join the witness relocation program.]


I figured that the best way to avoid a stinging attack to my eyes would be to involve Miss J somewhat in the ring selection process.

We went to a place recommended by a friend. I already had a really good idea as to what I was going to get her, but just in case, I included my choice along with a bunch of others so that she wouldn’t really know which one.

Luckily, the ring that I liked was also one that she did.

The planets must have been aligned that day.



The Decoy

I paid a few secret visits to the jewellery place and the order was set. I picked out a really nice Canadian diamond (no links to war or political nastiness), some sidestones, and the ring itself. All I had to do was wait for the centre diamond to arrive and for the ring to be made.

This was to be a month or so.

It was an excellent opportunity to bait Miss J into thinking I had no ability to keep surprises from her.

Her birthday fell around the midpoint between my ordering the ring, and the pick-up date. I had bought Miss J a new film SLR camera kit for her birthday, as she was stuck with a point-and-shoot. While she had taken some exceptional photos with such a simple piece of equipment, she expressed a desire to take photography more seriously by procuring a nicer camera at some point.

The week before her birthday, on a particularly nice day, I told her I was going to give her a gift. She was a bit skeptical at first, a she liked receiving birthday gifts on her actual birthday.

I argued that I had more stuff for her, but it was such a great day that she had to open this one particular thing. I expressed concern that she wouldn’t be able to use it on her birthday weekend, as she’d have to spend some time figuring it out.

I ended up giving her the camera, and she loved it.

She also made a point to say that I wasn’t any good at keeping secrets, which was fine by me, because she fell for my insidious plan…



The Execution

And so we’re back to where I started off.

A few short days after my accident, we were sitting in the Volkswagon dealership, about to buy a new car. I wanted an Audi (because it’s awesome), and Miss J wanted a rickshaw (because it’s more economical). We settled on getting a Jetta.

Let’s eavesdrop on the conversation…


[Jorge and Miss J are sitting in chairs in front of a desk. The salesman is busy in another room photocopying some documents and getting things ready.]
Jorge: This is crazy. This car is cool.
Miss J: Are you sure we should get the sports package? Do we really need it?
Jorge: Trust me, you’ll love it. Leather seats are easy to clean** and the wheels look nicer.
Miss J: [She holds her left hand up, palm down, showing off the empty spot where a ring would have gone quite nicely.] My finger is naked, and your leather seats are eating into my ring fund!
[Both of them laugh.]
Jorge: It will be ok! Trust me!


We drove home in the rental that I had for the week.

The night sky was beautiful. I suggested that we have dinner outside on our balcony. She agreed.

I lit a bunch of candles*** and Miss J put on the Dido CD while we ate Michelina’s pasta****. After we finished eating, I asked her if she wanted to dance*****.

She agreed and this is what happened…


[The scene opens with Jorge and Miss J dancing on the balcony overlooking the small park in the back laneway.]
Jorge: This is nice.
Miss J: Mmm-hmmm.
Jorge: So, I have a question for you.
Miss J: Okay.
Jorge: When I propose, do you want me to go down on one knee?
Miss J: [Thinks for a few moments] I don’t know. I guess so.
[Jorge lowers himself down on one knee. Miss J looks surprised. Then she looks upset, obviously thinking that Jorge is playing a cruel joke******.]
Miss J: Fuck off!
[Jorge reached behind the flower pots and retrieves the ring box that he hid there before dinner. He looks up at her face, and holds the box up to her.]
Jorge: I was going to do this anyway. The car accident just highlighted the fact that we’re never really sure what’s going to happen, and that you are the most important person in the world to me. Miss J, will you marry me?
Miss J: [Begins to cry.] Yes!
Jorge: [Crying and laughing at the same time. He’s amused that she said yes without even looking at the ring he agonized over.] Open the box you dumbass!
[They both laugh and sob. Both are ecstatic.]


So that’s how it happened*******.

That is how I proposed to the most beautiful, patient and awesome woman in the whole world.




* – The real reason for the ultimatum was because we’d just moved in together earlier that year. Marriage was the next logical step in the near future.
** – Of course, leather seats are also colder than a polar bear’s dick in the winter and hotter than Satan’s ass in the summer…
*** – This is not out of the ordinary. There are no lights outside on the balcony.
**** – Yes, I know, not the best choice, but we had been pretty busy with getting ready for our vacation to Portugal and dealing with the car stuff.
***** – This, too, is not uncommon. My only regret is that I wanted to propose to Dido’s Thank You rather than All You Want (Which is about a girl whose man leaves her – good tune though).
****** – While I do have a weird sense of humour, I would never joke about something like this.
******* – I can’t believe I didn’t have a reference to Dave in here!

Transporter Thing

The Transporter

One thing I like to do is quote lines from movies once in a while. I usually change some element of what it is to be funny. This time, though, my wife actually changed it.

We had recently seen Transporter 2 in the theatre.

In the movie, there is a brief exchange between Jason Statham’s rigid, rules-based character (Frank) and a little boy played (quite well) by Hunter Clary…


Frank Martin: What’s the first rule when entering a man’s car?
Jack Billings: Respect a mans car, a man respects you.
Frank Martin: Rule number two?
Jack Billings: Greet the man. Good afternoon Frank!
Frank Martin: Good afternoon Jack.


A few days after we saw the movie, I was sitting in the car waiting for Mrs. J. After a minute or two, she opened the passenger side and joined me in the car. The following conversation ensued (with me doing my best Jason Statham impression)…


Jorge: What’s the first rule when entering a man’s car?
Mrs. J: Kiss the man! [Leans over and plants a kiss on my ugly mug.]
[Jorge is all smiles now. He pulls the car away from the curb and begins driving. Suddenly a thought crosses his mind…]
Jorge: I’d have thought that the first rule would be to make sure that the man is your husband.
Mrs. J: [Laughs.]

Yes. My life is a movie.

Two thumbs up!



Funniest Thing I Heard All Day

I was riding the subway to work today, as I do every day.

Every time the subway left a platform, it would slowly accelerate, jerk once, and then keep accelerating until it reached it’s cruising speed. The cruising speed was not all that quick for some reason.

I didn’t think anything of it, as a lot of the subways are older and prone to odd glitches.

About halfway through my trip, the subway driver piped up over the loudspeaker…


Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I would like to apologize for the delay…


Everyone groaned. Usually when messages begin like that it means we’ll have to get off the subway at the next stop or the subway will have to stop and sit still for a number of minutes (usually about five or ten) due to some problem up ahead…


…The delay is due to the fact that mechanical problems are not allowing us to reach our top speed. This is causing our trip across the city to be somewhat longer than normal and again, I apologize. I have called for a mechanic to meet us further along the route to fix the problem. You can understand that mechanics for these trains are hard to find, as no one really likes to try to repair antiques…


I laughed pretty loudly at his blatant shot at the lack of modern equipment. Folks like him make my day.