Challenge: When Was The Last Time You Did Something New?

As I (slowly and painfully) approach 79, I thought that I was pretty much finished with “new things.”  Life had other ideas.

I recently tore a tendon in my left shoulder – probably shovelling snow.  I’ve never done that before.
I recently broke a rib – while sitting in my easy chair. I’ve never done that before.
I took the wife to the big, St. Mike’s, downtown hospital in Toronto, first for an endoscopic test, later for a pre-admission appointment, and finally for a difficult endoscopic surgery.  I’ve never done that before.

If I thought that traffic problems on the North-side bypass highway were bad, I ain’t seen nothin’ like the strangely-named, lake-hugging ‘Expressway’ I needed, to reach the hospital.  About the same volume of traffic, but with two or three fewer lanes to carry it in each direction.

It was a gigantic parking lot, sluggishly flowing along like a huge glacier, at barely better than a brisk walking pace – cars and trucks cutting others off, and drivers darting from lane to lane, frantically trying to gain a little space, and time.  I’m surprised that the reported rate of road rage and homicide isn’t higher.  I could see the hospital from the road, but the overhead electronic sign said that estimated arrival time at my exit was still 17 minutes.

That’s where the map program told me to drive six blocks north, and turn left onto Queen Street, where the hospital was located.  When I reached Queen, street signs said that left turns were prohibited.  Instantly, we were lost in a maze of narrow, crowded, one-way, no-turns-allowed, downtown streets, and were half an hour late eventually reaching the hospital.

This entire trip, especially the ‘Expressway’ portion, is not for the inexperienced or faint of heart, and not one that I cared to repeat.  The next “New” thing that the wife and I are going to do, is ride a train.  We have both ridden trains, but that was over half a century ago, shortly after steam engines gave way to diesels.

What will be “New” about it, will be the fact that it will be on a Commuter Train.  Every workday, tens – perhaps hundreds – of thousands of people commute hundreds of miles, from all over Southern Ontario, by means of 12 different rail-routes to go to work in the Big Smoke, using a system called GO-Trains.

The wife and I will use the Kitchener-to-Union Station, Toronto, portion of one of them.  Our Osteopath tried to convince us to use the regular Via Rail service.  ‘There’s more foot and leg room, and the seats are larger and more comfortable.’  And the difference in ticket costs for a one-way, one-passenger ride is, VIA – $89 vs. GO-Train Seniors’ price – $9.  Six trips, times $80/trip savings, totals $480!  For almost $500, I’d ride in a sardine can.  I was born at night – just not LAST night.  Take the GO train – cheap, simple and easy – no fuss, no muss, no expensive gas, no getting lost, no driving stress, no outrageous parking fees.

Assuming that all goes well – and since the best GI endo surgeon in the world, is performing the operation, in the best GI hospital suite in Canada, there’s no reason to assume otherwise – the next ‘New’ thing that the wife and I will try, as a celebration, is to drive to the more-easily and safely reached IKEA store on the near side of Toronto.

We’ll do the tourist thing and people-watch, and have the Swedish meatball lunch, perhaps with a Carlsberg Dark beer, and maybe some lingonberry jam.

To Sleep – Perchance To Dream

I can almost understand why Good Christians think that God, or Jesus, speaks to them, or why schizophrenics listen to the voices in their head – not that there’s much observable difference.

I know that the voices aren’t real, but they come up with some great ideas.

Actually, the voices are quite real.  They’re just completely internal, not external in any way.  They’re me!  It’s a good thing  that I’m eccentric enough to accept the weird thoughts that pop into my head, or I could be startled, or even frightened, by things my mind comes up with on its own, when I’m not holding the reins tightly.  I can see why those who wish to organize and control their thoughts, would want to blame someone/thing else for ideas and views that they might feel are somehow ‘deviant.’

I often awaken from naps with things bubbling around in my head, including solutions to stubborn Word Jumbles.  After being retired for 11 years, I still have dreams about work.  Since so much of my life revolves around writing and the English language, it is no great surprise that I often wake to words.

I recently became conscious, to the word/name ‘Kaiella’ in my head.   At first I thought that my subconscious had coined a new word, but research soon showed that, in Hawaiian, it means ‘happy girl,’ and in Arabic it means ‘sea goddess.’  I am amused that camel chasers, sitting on sand dunes, have a word for sea goddess.

My most complex day was when I woke up wondering why the name of Italian film director Sergio Leone, and that of African country Sierra Leone were so similar, and what they meant.  Leone was easy.  It’s an Italian word meaning lion, or lion-like.  It’s why the name Napoleon means Lion of Naples, even though he was born French, on the island of Corsica.  We’ll follow that lion to Africa later.

Sergio means guard/protector in Italian, as do Serge in French, Sergei in Russian, and the army title sergeant in English.

Sierra is a Spanish word from the Latin serra, meaning, a saw.  It describes a chain of mountains which is spiky and saw-toothed.  Sierra Leone has one, a segment of which resembles a crouching lion.  But if Sierra Leone looks like a lion, what is the Sierra Nevada, for which the American state is named??  😕

That’s easy!  The Spanish word nevada simply means snow, and Sierra Nevada refers to Rocky Mountains so tall that their peaks are perpetually snow-covered.

On the same day, I found that, besides being a gadget for manipulating objects by remote control, particularly in atomic reactors, Waldo is a diminutive of the name Oswald, from the German meaning God’s ruleBurkholder is a German name, but refers to citizens of the Low Countries – The Netherlands/Belgium.  I think I sprained a brain muscle.  Come back soon to watch me heal.  😀

BEDA Warning

For years I have been lithely and nimbly avoiding the April A To Z Challenge trap, by spreading my weight out over the entire year.  This year I have been ensnared in the BEDABlog Every Day in April Challenge.  I have decided to – not abandon my Monday, Wednesday, Friday posting schedule – but add to it.

To my 13 regularly-scheduled April posts, I will add another 17, to sate the month, and my readers.  Many of the extra posts will be like little mental flickers from a 4th of July sparkler – like my 100-word Flash Fictions – a quick, bright idea, there and then gone.  Others may be a little wordier.  Oh good.  Thanx for the warning.

I had 45 unpublished posts in the can, in a Word file, when I found out about this, and I’ve already composed a couple of short new ones.  If any of my readers have an idea, a topic, a prompt, something they wish discussed, researched or satirized, feel free to submit your subject in the comments.

Why couldn’t I do this in February, when there’s only 28 days??!  😳

Onward and upward!  Excelsior!

Flash Fiction #272

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

NARROW-GAUGE ONE-TRACK-MIND

The American Military had to assign rocket scientist, Werner von Braun a driver, when he was late for a meeting – which he called!

Concerned officials eventually located him at a traffic light, with his foot on the car’s brake.  He had had an idea, and his mind had taken him somewhere other than his meeting.  The light was green just as they arrived, and he was oblivious to the traffic that was flowing past him in all directions.

My brain, with its three squirrels running on two wheels, envies him his ability to concentrate.  I occasionally need a minder also.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Pooling My One-Liners

Hear about the snowman who had a big temper-tantrum?….
….It was a real meltdown

I was going to make an anti-masker joke….
….But my parents taught me not to make fun of the mentally disabled.

Why was the anti-vaxxer’s four-year-old crying?….
….Midlife crisis

How do we know that the Corona virus wasn’t made in China?….
….Because we’ve had it for almost a year, and it’s still working.

The spread of COVID depends on two things….
….How dense the population is.
….How dense the population is.

What sound do sheep make?….
….If you don’t vote, you can’t complain.

I have a few jokes about unemployed people….
….But none of them work

My teachers told me I’d never amount to much because I procrastinate….
….I said, “Just you wait.”

Will glass coffins be a success?….
….Remains to be seen

The guy who survived both mustard gas and pepper spray….
….Is a seasoned veteran now.

I can tell people who are judgemental….
….Just by looking at them

A backward poet….
….Writes inverse

C, E Flat, And G walk into a bar….
….The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve Minors.”

The constipated mathematician….
….Worked it out with a pencil.

I know the voices aren’t real….
….But they come up with some great ideas.

My name is Microsoft….
….Can I crash at your place tonight?

Man gets hit by rented car….
….Said it Hertz

Cosmetic surgery used to be such a taboo subject….
….Now you can talk about Botox, and nobody raises an eyebrow.

I called my specialist to make an appointment….
….His receptionist answered, “Urology, can you please hold?”

I’m so cheap that, when I die, and go toward the light….
….I’m going to turn it off

As I suspected, someone has been adding soil to my garden….
….The plot thickens.

My ‘good old days’….
….Were when I wasn’t good, and I wasn’t old.

My friend claims he can throw a stick 5 miles and his dog will retrieve it….
….I think that’s a bit far-fetched.

The first annual meeting of the Camouflage Club was a disaster….
….It looks like no-one showed up.

Venison for dinner again?….
….Oh deer.

A cartoonist was found dead in his home….
….Details are sketchy

A man tells his doctor, “Doc, help me. I’m addicted to Twitter!”….
…. The doctor replies, “Sorry, I don’t follow you…”

A dentist and a manicurist got married….
….They fought tooth and nail.

A will is….
….a dead giveaway.

WOW #67

After doing some navel-gazing recently – and cleaning out the lint – I came upon a word which rhymes with Pedant.

Fussbudget

WHAT IS THE ORIGIN OF FUSSBUDGET?

Fussbudget, “one who is fussy or needlessly faultfinding,” is a transparent compound of the nouns fuss “bustle, commotion” and budget “itemized list of funds or expenses.” The word entered English in the early 20th century; it became associated with the character Lucy Van Pelt in the comic strip Peanuts in the 1960s.

HOW IS FUSSBUDGET USED?

He was a fussbudget. His interest in ideas didn’t match his interest in small, and often silly, facts. Much of the time he saw neither the forest nor the trees but only a bit of the undergrowth.

I thought that I was pretty good at being a fussbudget, but the wife insists that I am a rank amateur – and not only because we just had baked beans.  She holds a Third or Fourth Black Belt in Fussbudgetry.

She has ‘color-coded, properly-filed’ lists of ways to be, and not be, a true fussbudget.  She has CDO – which is a lot like OCD, only the letters are in the correct, alphabetical order.

Well, I’m off to obsess about the word-usage or punctuation in a bunch of other people’s posts, but I’ll be back with a new post in a couple of days.  You can count on that!  I already have a timer set, to remind me.  You try to get your life in sufficient order that you show up to read it.

Flash Fiction #231

Boxing Day

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

BOXING DAY

I am a genius, if I may say so myself – and I have to – ‘cause you won’t acknowledge my brains.  I’ve solved two irritations, with one brilliant idea.

To cut costs, the city now collects garbage every two weeks.  Hauling out one extra-heavy, or two regular bags, was a hassle.  Breaking down boxes from on-line Amazon shopping was a pain.

I peel off the labels, fill them with garbage, and leave them outside the door.  Within an hour, some porch pirate steals my used tea-bags, coffee grounds and banana peels.  Some boxes I ‘accidently’ forget on the subway, during my commute.

***

Got to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

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Skeptic

Skeptic

A skeptic is a thinker, not a blind believer, but you already know that.

I laugh when ‘they’ use the word -or the term- to characterize someone who happens to have a different opinion, or point of view from them.  It’s obvious, that is the whole purpose of this, isn’t it?  Seize the definition, and then prove it wrong.

It’s wonderful to be a Skeptic, but who isn’t?  Unfortunately, far too many, who farm out and subcontract others to do their thinking for them.  But fortunately, we still have the right to think whatever we want, whatever we like, whatever we wish, the most wonderful nonsense, the most brilliant ideas.

We need to continue to fight for the right to be skeptics. So, dear journalists and assorted religious nuts, you’d better use some other words.  Like “controversialist,” “dissenter,” “arguer,” “questioner,” etc.

Freedom of thought, freedom of speech, freedom of association, freedom of religion – including freedom FROM religion, freedom of action – as long as it harms no-one else. As Braveheart, William Wallace, said, FREEDOM. I am not skeptical about that.

Just be careful not to topple over the edge to Cynic. I’ve seen some militant Atheists – actually anti-Theists – interviewed, and asked, “If you were presented with proof of the Christian God, would you believe?” And they answer, “NO!” That is just foolish, rebellious cynicism. Believe what you want, but have a good reason for it.

Flash Fiction #186

Conversation Thread

PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

FEELIN’ CREATIVE GROOVY

Bob didn’t object to Canada finally legalizing marijuana. Many of his friends had indulged in weed without legal approval for years. He didn’t, and couldn’t understand some of their justifications. “It improves your creative abilities, man.”

Once, he’d thought that his dreams contained epic ideas. A counsellor had taught him how to wake and write them down. The next morning’s notes had read

FREEM DOESN’T CLAVITZ
PROBLY SHOULD QUEES

His friends’ 4:20 “creative” sessions reminded him of those attempts. Eight stoners, loudly holding forth on 13 subjects, all at once! 😯 There wasn’t a single coherent conversational thread to be grasped.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

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Click on the title to hear Harper’s Bizarre tell you how groovy it was, back in the Hippie days.

Friday Fictioneers

Flash Fiction #184

Pizza

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER

His mother ruined his lazy summer by insisting he help his cousin Roberto open a pizza shop??! Yet another pizza shop in Florence – the home of pizza? But Roberto had an idea….

BOB’S
AMERICAN PIZZA
FINEST INGREDIENTS
FAST DELIVERY

Delivery?? We stay at home; hot food comes to us?? Great idea!!

An idea whose time had come. They did a landslide business from day one!

He had spent a glorious summer, riding up and down the winding streets of this magnificent city – and received enough tips to be able to buy his own motorcycle.

Molto grazie, cousin “Bob” – and Maman.

pizza

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Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Friday Fictioneers