Living the Dream

A woman I know once called me a, “dreamer.” At the time I thought it was a semi-compliment because I wasn’t aware of the meaning. It was more likely meant to be a polite insult.


person who lives in a world of fantasy; one who is impractical and unrealistic.

a person who spends a lot of time thinking about or planning enjoyable events that are not likely to happen

The only enjoyable event I preached was not having to work an unenjoyable job full-time but still be able to live an enjoyable life or at least not a miserable one. Maybe I wasn’t so much a dreamer as much as others were unimaginative and fearful. A chihuahua thinks a human dwarf is tall.

How you accept your goals and circumstances in life is highly dependent on what you think is realistic for yourself and how badly you feel the need to not be left out. It sounds adolescent but trends don’t end they just change. The only difference is that you can throw away last season’s jeans and move on but you’re stuck when you handcuff yourself to adult misery. You can laugh at old pictures of yourself but serving a life sentence in your own version of prison is no joke.

If you’re not dreaming you’re following.




Snow Day


After having only seen mild temperatures this winter we had our first snowfall 2 days ago. The snow removal budget is about the 10th of most other large Canadian cities which ensures chaos on the roads when it does snow. Where I live it snows most years but some of those years it’s very light snow. With a limited budget the city’s game plan is to sometimes do nothing hoping that it will rain.

Being the good person that I am I’ve been shovelling a neighhour’s sidewalk because he’s old and I have good reason to believe he’s not doing so well. My true intention for telling you this is to show you how much of a better person I am than you. It’s not your fault. Some people are just better than others.

A 90-year-old in the neighbourhood phoned me this morning to ask if I would be going by the liquor store. She wanted a 1.7 litre bottle of vodka. She likes to have a cocktail before dinner, she says. I wanted to get out of the house so I took a walk to the liquor store. Upon delivery she tipped me $10 because I’m a good person. I initially refused but if it makes her feel better I’ll take it. When you’re as old as she is you can almost get anything you ask for. She told me how her doctor came to her home to give her eye drops and how a fireman came to install her fire alarm for no charge.

When people shovel their sidewalks or mow their lawns they always do a bit of the home next to them so they don’t look like a loser. It’s never an inch or 2 it has to be at least a foot into their property. There’s some people in this neighbourhood who aren’t as good as I am. They don’t shovel their sidewalk and they probably don’t deliver big bottles of alcohol to old ladies. If I don’t get in to heaven then it’s a good indication it’s all bullshit.


Where’s My Can Opener?


In the year 2009 I went to the local big-box supermarket to buy a can opener. The only one that they had was more money than I wanted to pay but it was the only one in stock. The urgent necessity of a can opener trumped my penchant for being cheap. Some months or years later I discovered it was ‘Made in USA.’ I thought that was cool and it strengthened my liking for it.

I can’t find that thing now! Even worse, it can’t be found anywhere now because in 2008 they moved operations to China just before I bought mine which means I likely bought one from the last Made in USA batch. C’mon Donald Trump, bring back the can opener jobs.

Whether or not the ones made in China are much worse or not is uncertain but people have a liking for products made in a developed country. It makes them feel good even if the product is of poor quality. There was a used Made in USA Swing-a-way listed on Craigslist 2 days ago for $5 and now it’s gone. Somewhere out there is someone just like me which means I have competition.

When I was a kid we had 2 can openers. One was electric and the other was some manual piece of shit that barely got the job done. The electric worked fine but they take up space and unless if you have arthritis or are opening multiple cans a day it’s not worth it. Everywhere I lived after that were homes with crappy can openers. Poor immigrants tend to have this mentality of not spending any money for something they already have that kind of works. No one in the home ever thought how the can opener sucks and you can just buy a new one for $10.

There’s a spinoff Made in USA can opener which cannot be found here in Canada but is available through Amazon. There’s been rumours of counterfeits but the seller has me checkmated. I ordered one so we’ll see how it goes.

“The John J. Steuby Company made parts for the Swing-A-Way, and when Swing-A-Way was sold, the company started creating its own can openers: the EZ-Duz-It…”

Luckily, my obsessions tend to be inexpensive.