Over the last few years, I have noticed a disturbing trend. Clothes seem to be getting smaller, resulting in a much higher incidence of exposed flesh. Parts of the body that used to be revealed only to doctors and spouses are now on display for all to see.I can only conclude that we are facing a severe fabric shortage. It makes sense that as the world’s population continues to increase, the amount of material available for each individual decreases. Look back at the 1800′s, when there were far less people around. Women wore long skirts, stockings, blouses, jackets, crinolines, etc. all the time. They flaunted their access to cheap, plentiful wools and cottons by donning layer upon layer, even in the height of summer.Today, we are confronted with mini-skirts, short shorts, tank tops, crop tops, and thongs. This shrinking wardrobe seems to be especially prevalent among young females. I guess their parents have spent so much money on big houses, fast cars, flat-screen televisions and the other necessities of 21st century life that they cannot afford clothing that offers full coverage.This problem even seems to affect the well-to-do. I often encounter girls from private schools who are forced to wear tiny kilts that are hardly larger than thick belts. I assume they received their kilts in grade 4 and have had to make do with them all the way through high school. Even young Britney cannot afford a decent pair of knickers, and if she can’t, what chance do the rest of us working-class folk have?So, we must find new alternatives before we completely run out of our natural and synthetic fibres. I urge scientists and fashionistas to join forces to ensure our children’s children can cover up the naughty bits, and hopefully just a little bit more.
Monthly Archives: May 2007
Fanatics
By now, most Canadians and perhaps four Americans know the Ottawa Senators have advanced to the Stanley Cup finals. Shrugging off years of playoff futility, the Sens have rolled through the first three rounds in impressive fashion. It’s pretty exciting stuff, and I actually get shivers at the thought of a Stanley Cup parade down Elgin Street.
I am a fan, but I’m not a fanatic. Listening to the sports talk radio station over the weekend, I was struck by how seriously some people take the game. One woman said she knew the Sens would win because it was her birthday, and they just had to win to honour her big day. Another said she had to go outside during overtime because she just knew the Sens would score if she went outside. That’s right, honey, Alfie decided to pull the trigger on his wrist shot because you weren’t watching the game.
I made fun of these people and their silly superstitions, mocked their illogical rituals. So many poor, pathetic people pinning so much hope and happiness on the outcome of a hockey game.
I took it all back on Monday morning when I sat down for breakfast with my newspaper. The front page had a big picture of a three-year old boy who suffered from a rare form of cancer. Over the past few weeks there have been a number of stories about his love of hockey and how the community has rallied behind him so he could have the opportunity to attend Sens games and practices.
His condition worsened last week, and he wasn’t expected to make it through the weekend. On Saturday, he sat at home, surrounded by his family, and watched the Sens game. A couple of hours after their victory, he died. I teared up at the thought of the pain this boy and his family were in, and how they took such joy in being together to share their love of hockey and their local heroes.
So, I’ve been humbled. I’ll try to be more understanding in the coming week when I hear a Sens fan claim he has a lucky hat that guarantees a Sens victory. I won’t mock the woman who thinks the Sens will shut out Detroit for four straight games. And maybe I’ll let myself believe that I, too, can influence the outcome of a hockey game 1,000 miles away simply by wearing my lucky shirt.
My New Favourite Food
A few months ago I wrote about Chipnuts, a great food innovation that combined the goodness of potato chips and peanuts into one awesome snackfood.
Well, I have discovered another great peanut-based food. Peanut Butter & Co., an eatery in New York City that specializes in (you guessed it) peanut butter, has a line of gourmet peanut butter. So far, I’ve only tried one jar, but it’s amazing.
Dark Chocolate Dreams combines all-natural peanut butter with dark chocolate. What a great invention. I guess you could put it on bread or something, but I have just been scooping it out with a spoon and letting it melt on my tongue.
I can’t wait to try White Chocolate Wonderful and The Heat is On (PB + fiery spices). I wonder what it would taste like on Chipnuts…
May is for Birthdays
A and K are both May babies, so we’ve been busy baking cakes and wrapping presents. K turned 2 last week and we had a fairly quiet evening, while A turns 4 on Saturday.
Saturday was anything but quiet as we hosted a birthday party for both the boys. A room of 14 children under the age of 5 is already fairly noisy, but when you add Mike from Little Ray’s Reptile Zoo and his menagerie of creepy crawlies, the energy level goes through the roof.
It was actually a pretty cool party. Mike brought a tarantula, a huge millipede, some lizards, a cane toad, two snakes, and a snapping turtle. I was O.K. with it for the most part, although I was a little worried that the turtle might take a kid’s finger off. I also had images of kids licking the cane toad and then rolling around on the floor having hallucinations.
For some reason, the thought of a bunch of adults coming to our house turned me into a Martha Stewart wannabe. Suddenly the front door needed to be painted, photos had to be framed and hung, the piano polished, windows washed. Of course, hours of cleaning were quickly undone as kids ground chocolate cake into the carpet, but at least the place was presentable for the first few guests.
I’m Married to a Soccer Mom
That’s right, B is now a soccer mom. A had his first soccer practice on Saturday morning. It was quite the sight – 50 or 60 little boys and girls, each with their own ball, running aimlessly around the field.
A was really into it for the first 15 minutes. He chased the coaches, introduced himself to the other members of his team, and listened closely to instructions. I was immensely proud of his maturity and focus. Then, I think it dawned on him that soccer is hard work, with a lot of running.
Dearloves are not known for their stamina, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he said he was tired and took a 20 minute breather. It was only after he watched other boys scoring goals that he took the field again, and he took great delight in scoring repeatedly at point-blank range. I think the finer points of the game may be lost on him for some time.
Some of the other kids (and parents), seemed to take it all very seriously. My favourite kid was Adam, a small boy with amazing curly blond hair. He was all decked out in his soccer gear – cleats, knee socks, shin pads, and a Rinaldo jersey to top it off. Adam is going to be a soccer machine, but I think I could still take him out with a well-timed slide tackle.
