Money

My favourite topic.

Money equals options.

The more money you have, the more options you have in life.

The more money you have, the higher the quality of goods and services you can enjoy.

The more money you have, the more experiences you can have.

Money equals priviledge.

I have been poor. I know that you are a less than nothing when poor and you are treated very badly.

When you have money, life is a lot better.

But having said that, something happens to peoples brains when they get too much money. They become deplorable human beings, on every level.

So there is a sweet spot that keeps you sweet.

The trick is to know when you’ve reached that.

Ha. The next trick is to reach it!

Great Ideas

I really have a bone to pick with our city planners about bike lanes.

Whoever does this brilliant planning has never been a pedestrian, nor rode a bike.

Planners hunker down in their Lexus and leave the rest of us to fend for ourselves.

Who in their right mind puts a two way bike lane on a one way street? Since implementing this splendid idea, there have been 5 cyclists hit by cars. So far, no pedestrians, but a friend of mine confessed to a near miss from a cyclist coming from the opposite direction. The solution my dear friends, by our brilliant planners, is not to simply do the obvious, like, for instance, make the bike lane one way (hopefully the same way as the traffic, but who knows with these idiots). Oh no! Our great transportation thinkers have decided instead to reduce vehicle speeds and improve visibility of cyclists and pedestrians at a minor cost of about $1.5 million of taxpayers money. Makes sense to me!

Who in their right mind puts a bike lane in front of bus stops? This one is a good one, having been almost killed myself on the way to work at my home bus stop.

Who makes bike lanes vanish at busy intersections? Oh I have bad memories of an intersection where the lane vanished and I was out in the middle of traffic going in many different directions, none of them mine!

Who does this to us on bike and foot? Surely only those who want to kill off as many cyclists and pedestrians as possible.

That’s our transportation planners in action.

Put It Away

Okay, maybe because I am older I am a bit of a prude. But I am so tired of women celebrities wearing next to nothing, or completely sheer dresses.

It is not classy.

And it is not sexy.

When you are young, you think the more you show the sexier it is.

NOT.

Even a man will tell you this is not sexy.

Do you see men doing this? How does a woman feel when she sees a man flaunting himself this way?

I tell you, I would choose a Cary Grant any day over a naked body builder. Mr. Grant has class.

I have nothing against our bodies, what we have is perfectly natural, normal and not shocking.

We are beings with imaginations, intelligence, creativity. We like to dress up and adorn ourselves in things. It is all good and an expression of our complex characters. But especially so for women.

From an early age, most girls are sexualized. We are taught that it is our looks that are the most important part of our being and we are not taught to develop our personalities and strengths and talents, which are WAY more of a turn on for men, especially the type of man who will love you.

If you walk around with your breasts hanging out it is rather rude. I say, put them away, please. Men do not find this arousing, trust me. Doing this puts you into a certain category in their minds. A category I am sure you are not.

I understand this is hard to comprehend. I was young once too and made these mistakes. If you want a high quality man, you need to be a high quality lady.

Yeah, I’m just an old hag now. Sorry.

Shocks to the System

Getting old is just one shock to the system after another.

I write this because I am mad about the judgement placed on seniors about their abilities.

The seniors you read about that run marathons and stuff like that, are the extreme exception to the rule. I hate that younger people think all seniors are physically and mentally capable of such feats, and are therefore lazy.

This is a huge big lie, and you need to get that out of your head. We cannot do what we once were able to. It is not a matter of not wanting to. It is a truth we are not able. And NO, seventy is not the new forty. Stop that shit.

I was athletic and healthy all my life. I ate well, took care of myself, was never way overweight. I ran 10K’s. I cycled thousands of kilometers. I danced. I went to the gym and lifted weights four or more days a week. I went canoeing, paddleboarding, hiking. I was fit. No major diseases.

And then I got old and I can do NONE of that now.

If you live long enough, you are going to start to fall apart. I don’t care who you are. It will happen to you. Usually in bits and pieces, one shock after another, but sometimes in one big shock.

And it is not just your body. Your brain is tired. You are not as quick. You cannot endure eight or more hours of brain work at a go. You need a lot of rest.

It does not matter what you do, it will happen to you.

That is why we need guaranteed income when we are old. We can no longer earn it, and we have a lot of expenses that young people don’t have. It is costly to stay alive and have a good quality of life.

We have contributed our lives and sometimes our very souls to the world of work and community during our time here, not to mention, raising you young people and providing you with shelter, food and opportunity for a good life.

Cut us some slack.

I Am Not No One

I wanted to sleep in.

But I have a cat.

After numerous head butts, some bites, meows and loud purring Sam my cat sat at my face and glared at me.

“Sam, what is the point in getting up? No one cares if I get up or not.”

Those big golden eyes burned into mine. “I am not no one. I care.”

I got up.

Bitching

I know a person who does non stop bitching. About everything.

She goes on an on and on about how terrible things are. It is utterly amazing and fascinating how everything she sees, hears, reads and experiences is all bad. It is impossible to divert her.

You could be walking along and point out some lovely flowers to her and she might momentarily agree, but then quickly point out that the weather is going to change and they will all freeze, or the planter they are in is ugly, or they are not getting enough sun and will die, or the colour scheme is off, or gardening is hard work for nothing, or people are going to steal them, or…..

To say such a person in emotionally draining is an understatement. She is an emotional vampire!

You can’t go anywhere with this person as she focuses on the bad or potentially bad of every single thing.

She wonders why I don’t want to go out for meals with her! Let me tell you, you could go to a five star restaurant and be treated like a princess and she would bitch non stop about the entire affair.

The Queen

I liked the British Monarchy because of all the garish ceremony and ritual, the excessive crown jewellery and tiaras and clothing. I liked the way they walked and talked, with class and that infamous British reserve.

I suppose it is because I was raised in Canada, where in my generation, British rule was still at the forefront of our lives, our sense of humour, our mannerisms, our perceptions and our reverence for the Queen. She united us as a country and with Britain. Without her our country would seem fragmented to me, without roots, without a certain classiness, a sophistication.

And that is what happened after the Queen died. The whole monarchy lost it’s attraction. The Queen was the monarchy. She was more than just a figure head. She was an idol from a romantic period. When she departed this world, she took that fantasy world with her and the whole thing deflated. It lost its significance.

If there was still a shred of glamour left after the Queen’s death, Harry finished it off. Harry is the rotten apple that spoiled the whole bunch. He dealt the final blow.

I would rather have kept the fantasy.

Spring

After our usual long and sometimes brutal winter, it is good to see this:

And these:

Also good to hear people talking about gardening and the flowers they will grow and the tulips and daffodils are already up.

Cancelled

In public school, way back before I was even a teenager, we had to do projects that were put on display for adults and public.

I was very keen on animal welfare, long before animal welfare was a thing.

I did a scathing project on the cruelty of the Calgary Stampede. How they put things under the saddles to make horses buck. How they nearly break calfs necks roping them. How horses often died after wagon races (sometimes during). And a whole lot of other nasty things that went on at this event.

Well, despite being a little girl, you would not believe the backlash I got. I got yelled at during the show. People threatened to destroy my display right on the spot. They even went after my family too, (though fortunately, my father was a Sergeant Major and that put an end to a lot of harassment).

For months afterwards I was name called and pooh-bahed and basically – cancelled.

Then decades later I saw an article on the cruelty of the Stampede and how animal rights activists were protesting against the event.

I had to wait a long time to be uncancelled.

What’s Next? Fahrenheit 451?

Sensitivity readers.

Who invented this scourge upon writers and readers?

These self appointed know it alls are now rewriting Agatha Christie books so people won’t be offended.

Self righteous, self imposed censors of what we write and read. Scum. Degenerates. Useless self appointed guardians of our imaginations. They rewrite Roald Dahl because we can’t hurt our precious children’s eyes with phrases like ‘fat women’. And we can’t have playful poems like Dr. Suess because obviously, we can’t decide for ourselves what is dated or hateful or just plain fun. Good Lord. Sensitivity readers – you are disgusting. You insult our intelligence to such a degree, that even a preschooler would gag.

Can this be real?

NOTE: I WANT TO BE OFFENDED, CHALLENGED, MADE TO THINK BY WHAT I READ.

That is what books are for, you idiots. They are there to make us think and formulate our own opinions of what is good and bad, right or wrong. And it is good that everyone has their own opinions and they are not yours.

I want controversial books. I want to read all flavours and colours and opinions. Don’t make my world your vanilla. Let me paint my own colours.

I want to choose what I read. And I want all the shit in those books. I don’t want to tone it down. If I am really unhappy, guess what? I JUST DON’T READ IT.

Often characters in a book are not nice people, they may be a product of the time they live in, so they say and do things that are offensive to our sensibilities of the current age. But that is what makes a villain, you idiots. That is what makes a character, a character. They are not perfect, they have good and bad points. Don’t turn imaginary characters into marshmallows. You have to read that they are racists, misogynists, whatever, to understand their perception, behaviour and actions in terms of the plot. People who lived in the 1920’s are a lot different that in the 2000’s. People of different cultures have different ways. I feel stupid even having to explain that!

This is what makes you educated, you dufus. Reading about this stuff. Gee whiz.

And let me say this, sensitivity readers – you are hypocrites, vipers, pharisees. We see people cut up, tortured, blown to bits, raped, maimed, shouted at, swore at, called racists names, humiliated, all in gory technicolour, widescreen detail in nearly every movie and television and news program produced today, and ultra violent video games that is watched by children. These are a thousand times more damaging to our psyche than the printed word. Movies are so bad, that if sensitivity watchers were a thing and got a hold of them, all you would have would be the beginning and ending credits!

And what about real life? Are you going to edit what we experience too? Are you going wade in there and make my life easier? Perhaps some soma?

What is next in this brave New World, 1984 life? First we rewrite books and history and ban what we refuse to look at. A short step to Fahrenheit 451, where we don’t just ban books, we burn them!