Fly Pretty Snowbird...Fly

You know that old saying – “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade”?  Well, I’ve felt that has applied to my life of late.  Work has been more than difficult, my hair is falling out in clumps,  and my pets heads are falling off... Fortunately, my 64 year old parents (think George Costanza's parents) made the decision to capitalize on the economic downward spiral in the US and spent some of my inheritance $ on a condo in beautiful Tarpon Springs FLA.  A trip to their new condo seemed to be just what the doctor ordered for me.

Instead of being one of those helpless losers that post their vacation “pics” on Facebook hoping for “likes” and supportive “comments”, I’ll just tell you the story via a blog that now has a respectable following of 16 people...

Why would I want to try and find relaxation in the company of my parents and children in Florida you might ask?  Well, I’m a twisted fuck and I knew there would be several laughs to be found in a place largely populated by the aged.  Originally settled by the Greeks, Tarpon Springs now has a median age of 76 (based on observation only) and has become somewhat of a snowbird nesting ground, not that their flaccid cocks and dried up uteri could procreate anyway…but you get the picture I think.

As you probably know from reading this blog, I’m a cheap fucker much like the northern native gray haired bastards that now call the good state of Florida home.  So much so that I booked my air travel via cheapoair.com (recommend it).  The flight took us from Ottawa to Chicago (definitely out of the way) and then from Chi-town to Tampa Bay.  But, this saved me $1,200 vs. a direct flight, so it seemed like the right move.  I also arranged for a mini-van from Alamo for $450 for the 10 days vs. the $1,800 quote I received from Hector at Dollar Rental (isn’t it ironic…don’t you think).  Yes, that is correct, I drove a white Dodge Town and Country.

Anyway, after 12 hours of travel that reasonably should have taken 4 hours, I saved $2,550 and I was on the ground in silver town.   If calculating the savings by the hour, I think that moves me into a bracket inhabited only by top municipal government employees or at least one of Donald Trump’s testicles.

After a 30 minute drive from the Tampa airport and a quick stop for a steam pot from Joe’s Crab Shack,  I arrived at the stereotype...errr I mean my parents retirement condo.  I would tell you the name of the condo complex, cause it's funny, but my mother and her legal team are concerned about a potential lawsuit...go figure (you must seek Buddha, you must seek christ...you must seek therapy...).

Anyway, immediately upon arrival I was reminded of the “Del Boca Vista” episode from Seinfeld.  

This was the beginning of my initiation in snowbird culture, which I shall now describe in a series of bullet points that randomly jumped out at me over my 10-day excursion.  Please imagine me speaking all of these in the southerner accent that I have developed.     

• The Pool Rules – On morning #1 in Tarpon Springs, my kids seemed dead set on swimming in the pool (which I generally am against, as I hate public pools based on an earlier encounter with a floating log).  Regardless, I decided to be a good dad and take my kids for some “fun” at the pool.  Immediately upon entering the pool gates, I was confronted by a large sign that read “Pool Rules”.  The pool rules essentially add up to one conclusion -  “please don’t swim in the pool you stinking pricks and if you do, don’t have fun”.  This was reinforced on multiple occasions from people with skin that looked like slick leather in a saddle shop.  See the image of the sign below, or read a few of my favorite rules below:
• Positively no loud noises or laughter in the pool
• Positively no jumping or diving in the pool
• Positively no dogs, Jewish, or black people in the pool.  OK, that wasn’t still a rule, but it likely used to be based on the demos here. 

• Walgreens - Perhaps it is just a generational issue, but older people tend to struggle with pronouncing what seems, at least to me, to be the simplest of words.  For instance, on this trip my parents introduced Walgreens to me as “Wal-grens”, which I immediately indicated must be a mistake, as I was sure it was pronounced “wal-greens”.  Sure enough, when we arrived to retrieve the anti-diarrhea medication known as Imodium, it was confirmed to be “wal-greens”.  Shocking.

• Early Bird Special – I can’t tell you how many times over the course of my life that my parents have looked down upon those that dive towards an early bird special like a trout to a piece of peaches and cream corn.  But, I guess all roles must be reversed at some point…  I think the transition to the early bird meal time is what Malcolm Gladwell referred to as "The Tipping Point".  Sure enough on day #3, out they go for a quick meal at 4:30pm with their friends from unit 1725 so they can get an all-inclusive meal for $25 per couple vs. the $30 that it would cost at a more civilized time – way to go.  I hope that Imodium from Wal-grens will do the trick later on tonight kids…
• Update – despite the early bird savings, alcohol seems to have pushed the bill over the $100 mark for the two of them this evening…  they seem upset.

• The Scenic Route – like I’ve said before, my kids are now age 3 and 6.  When I tell them we are going to the beach, I don’t need to take the scenic route and get a history lesson on how a few Greeks dropped a bowl of jizz over this place in 1875.  But, it happened anyway.  The scenic route is just a part of being old and wanting to suck back every bit of life you can before you die.  It is also apparently an opportunity to read every sign along they way that they see…yes dad, that is a Pizza Hut…
• Early Walks – If you get up early enough, you will be fortunate enough to witness the elderly going for walks and stretching to the sky like Jesse Jackson on acid delivering a sermon.  It is weird and reminds me of the emperor from the Neverending Story.  I’m not sure why.
• The Condominium Corp and their “serious” reprimands – everyone here seems to live in fear of the dreaded condo corp.   For instance, I’ll tell you the story of unit 1445, who were recently caught with a hibachi on their lanai.  You see, you are not allowed to cook in the condo complex with an open flame.  But that didn’t stop the rebels in 1445.  They cooked the shit out of anything they could get their hands on with that hibachi (just ask the black headed seagull).  Until that fateful day they were caught by Gray Bush, a widowed ex teacher from Wisconsin.   Gray Bush brought the matter before the condominium corp board who brought down some serious judgment on the rebels in 1445.  How serious you might ask?  Well, they have been warned to never cook with an open flame again…
• The Outfits – serious consideration must be given to the outfit that one will wear a particular point in the day, once you reach snowbird status.  To illustrate this, I have divided up the day into three fairly standard and specific segments:
• The Morning – if you want to see matching k-ways, a visor, wristbands, and sparkly running shoes, go for a walk in Florida before 8am.
• The Beach/Poolside – bring back the straw hats from point number 5, and add in some orange wrinkly skin (skinny or fat), some blue blockers, Jesus sandals and white socks, and some shorts purchased in 1964 from K-Mart.  Also, don’t be afraid of bringing out your swimsuit from just after WW2.
• The Dinner Hour – hike up your pants, cause you ain’t gonna fit into what you wore to your high school reunion.  Word to the wise, if you are going to hike up your pants below your ribs, don’t tuck in your shirt AND add 2 inches to the length – just sayin’. 
• Goin’ Shellin’ – something happens around the age of 60, where your interest in sea shells transitions into an obsession.  Curiosity is replaced by insanity.  Quick everyone, set your alarm to 5:30am so you can get yourself a conch shell and shut that fat fucker Piggy up.  

• The Birds – there must be something written in the general human genetic code that generates a certain curiosity in birds once you reach the middle age.  Personally, I hate birds.  I would take great pleasure in seeing them all fall out of the sky and crash to a horrible death into the pavement.   On the other hand, my parents have a deep bird passion and have invested in a book entitled the “Birds of Florida”, so they can be more specific with their bird loving.  My dad gets an insta-boner whenever this book is mentioned OR whenever an Egret lands near our rented Dodge Mini-Van.  Being the man of truth that I am, I decided to investigate this further and host a few off the cuff interviews with locals on the topic, which just yielded more of the same jacko-bird-festivu that began with my parents.   The result, it is true…old people are fascinated with birds and things like the colour of their heads (ex. The black-headed seagull and the white headed pelican).  As a local man explained to me, "the great thing about Florida birds is that they love both ham and bologna, so they are easy to shop for".  Leave sliced deli meats on your porch at 7am every morning, and they’ll come back routinely.  Oh, what we do for friends…

Jerkin to Egrets

• The Blossoms – the next would be the blossoms of course… oh the pretty blossoms are in full force at this time of the year.   I am a blossom/flower re-tard, but based on what I’m hearing around meal-time, the googonzalias and bingalias are truly dominating the FLA landscape right now…

• The Sun Sucks… Fuck The Sun – I find it strangely amusing that these dinosaurs move “down south” for warmth and sunshine, and then stay out of the sun.  Just tell a snowbird that you are going to the beach and they’re faces will quickly flash with fear and desperation as they recall their last sunburn (20 or so years ago).  Their solution, countless card games and several glasses of Tang in the comfort of their air conditioned condo.  

Card carrying members of the anti-sun cult

• The Teeth and/or Dentures – I’m 90% confident that Polident is the most recognizable brand in the great state of Florida.  Why?  Well, at least 2/3’s of the 70 plus crowd that I’ve met have the best teeth I’ve ever seen, which either means that they were ahead of the curve on flossing OR they have had their teeth replaced by a non-rotten version.  Part of me believes that this is just the right move no matter what your age.  Fuck this brushing BS, I’m goin’ dentures.
• The Best Conversations…Are Had With Yourself – have you ever noticed how people who have lived alone for a prolonged period of time tend to speak aloud to themselves for no apparent reason?  This is particularly pronounced with the elderly, who unfortunately are often left to live alone.  The best example of this so far in my life came in the pool two days ago when an ancient creature named Tom asked my son what grade he was in.  Here is the transcript of the conversation that I observed:
•  Tom – geez, you’re a handsome young fella ain’t ya.  What grade are you in?
• My Son (slightly stunned) – uhh senior kindergarten
• Tom – senior kindergarten – wow – that’s fantastic.  Whoooeeee.  That is great.
• My Son – no response or acknowledgment
• Tom (now speaking to himself) – senior kindergarten, golly that is special, senior kindergarten, spectacular, senior kindergarten, uh huh, senior kindergarten…now what did I tell you Daniel, stop playing with those rats.  Sons of bitches.
• Me – Uh, son, lets get out of the pool now…
• Good To The Last Drop…Or Leg – the last night of the vacation has arrived and we decided to go to good old Rusty Belly’s on the waterfront.  Although they have a decent setup, the amount of gray and loose skin makes you feel as though you have entered into the common room for Wednesday night Bingo at a retirement home.  Anyway, Rusty Belly’s is known for their seafood – namely the crab.  As I sat back and watched table after table dig in, I couldn’t help but notice one thing – old people in Florida never leave anything on their plate or in their glass.  They literally clean it off with their tongues.  They suck every last piece of meat out of the crab legs like a Gatineau hooker, chug back coleslaw like Nigerian marathoner with a glass of water, etc (you get the point).

Well, the end is here and back to Canada I go.  Just like Kramer in the unbelievably poor quality video below, I believe that my metamorphosis from a 30 something Canadian to a true snowbird has now taken place.  I say this only because I literally just urinated in my boxers for no particular reason.  Despite what my new found friends have told me about wearing adult diapers, incontinence ain’t so bad.

The End.

The Job Interview

Oh the job interview, such a rich and meaty topic to deal with.  Over my career, I've had the opportunity to interview well over a thousand potential candidates, so I guess you could say I'm somewhat of an expert on this topic.  As the priest typically whispers to the alter boy in the back corner of the rectory, let us dig in...

Aside from the obvious, the job interview provides the interviewee with a few unique opportunities, like:

• sweating profusely in the company of a complete stranger (note - you are not likely to get the job if you are visibly sweating)
• excreting more pre-interview diarrhea than you ever thought possible (note - if you shit your pants during an interview, you are also not likely to get the job)
• to barf out every possible cliche personality trait in under 30 minutes, like
• I'm a people person - wow, good for you. 
• I'm goal oriented - wait for it... here comes the big red X right across your resume
• I'm a team player - what does that even mean?
• I'm a hard worker - Shocking answer from someone trying to get a job. 

On the flip side, the interviewer gets a rare opportunity to control the destiny/fate of the interviewee.  Some serious power is in their hands.  Nobody should take this responsibility lightly, but some do (like the asshole who interviewed me from Xerox once and try to get me to pitch him on the $5 Seiko watch he was wearing).  Having said that, the interviewer should take the opportunity to creatively fuck with people... with a purpose of course.  For example, here are some questions you might consider asking if you find yourself on the right side of the desk in the future:

• If you were married and a rich man who looked a lot like Robert Redford offered you $1M for one night with your wife, would you accept the offer OR turn it down?
• If the answer is accept, they have revealed that money is a motivator and they will sacrifice their integrity for $.  Depending on the position, this is either a positive or negative.



One night... one million dollars...

• Do you ever wish you were a character on Lost?  If so, which one?
• The answer to this question reveals if a) they are a nerd, and b) how big of a nerd they are.  For example, if they say Jack you know they are a nerd with leadership qualities.  If they said Hurley on the other hand, well... end the interview



Wow...

• If you were a hot dog, would you eat yourself?
• This will tell you nothing, other than whether or not they like hot dogs.  I love hot dogs and would never hire anyone who didn't eat them.
• If I could guarantee no jail time and gave you a loaded gun, who would you kill?
•  Correct answer is NOBODY.   Anything else proves morale corruption.
• Tell me about the first time you masturbated to a photo of a co-worker?
• If nothing else, a descriptive answer will make the interview more interesting...
• What is your position on gay marriage?
• Tells you whether or not they have an open mind or reveals ignorance
• Are you ok with being struck by a leather whip at the office?
• Are they willing to work under slave conditions... Hopefully.
• In 50 words or less, please describe your last alien encounter?  Also, please say "tin foil" three times in your response.
• Can they tap into creativity, but limit the output...
• Would you have travelled in the phone booth with Bill & Ted on their Excellent Adventure?  If so, who would have been your favourite historical figure?
• The answer to this should be yes and Socrates

 

• How much experience do you have living or working in cult communes?
• Are they potentially crazy?
• Would you mind at all if I carried on the rest of the interview in the character of Ben Matlock?
• Do they respect diversity or at least people with multiple personality disorder?
 

So there you go.  The next time you are interviewing someone, be creative and really probe to the core of who they are.  Feel free to use any of the questions above, I'm here to help.  Finally, a touching tribute as we head into Saturday night...

Stop Reading "The News"

Stop the press mothafuckas... cause "the news" is dead.  When and why did we allow the profession of journalism to be cheapened to a level equal to or less than what used to only be contained in the pages of the National Enquirer?  Now I realize that everyone has a job to do, and ultimately the media is simply trying to sell something (namely getting enough eyeballs on their "shit" to justify the $ they are demanding for their advertising properties), but why must we all focus on glorifying the humane?

I'm not sure what is worse - the articles themselves or the fact that our society seems to get off on all that is wrong with the human race (think Jerry Springer).  One thing is for sure..."Slum dog journalism" is on the rise - pick up your tablet, turn on the tv, or go old school and get a newspaper and you'll see.

To prove this point, lets take a scan of the top 100 headlines of the day from my favorite news conglomerate.  I'll add commentary, just to diffuse what is otherwise generally fucking weird and/or disturbing:

• Couple seeking threesome snared in hooker sweep - now that doesn't seem fair... Having said that, note to self... remove all posts from various porn sites (adult friend finder) advertising my desire for an immediate threesome with a hooker...
• Fired sex change teacher won't be silenced - I'll bet... what with the breasts of a woman and the cock of an giraffe, you would need a zoologist or an experienced veterinarian to silence that "thing".
• Baby squirrel pepper sprayed by cop - I guess patrolling the streets for nasty red squirrels must be one level below traffic cop duty.  Anyway, congratulations to officer jackass - a true community hero.
• RCMP mum on using stun gun on boy aged 11 - what, no comment?  Really, I thought you would have a fairly in depth explanation as to why you felt the need to use a stun gun on an 11 year old... Not that any of us would actually need an explanation, it seems totally justified and understandable after-all.
• Neighbor charged after senior given meth-cookie - you can be charged for that?  Shit...I knew that was a bad idea... This is exactly what I imagine the "neighbor" with the meth-cookies to look like:

• Baby stabbed to death, mom charged - so let me just get this straight, you carried a fetus inside your uterus for up to 9 months... you then passed said fetus through the walls/drapes known as your vagina, you developed horrid irreversible stretch marks on your belly, and allowed your once perky breasts to look more like cucumbers than oranges... AND THEN YOU STABBED YOUR BABY?  Fuck you.  You deserve what you get. 
• Man accused of using wrestling moves on toddler - my heart goes out to Randy Macho Man Savage on this day... the years of steroid abuse and psychological trauma from losing the Intercontinental Championship to Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat in '87 finally caught up to him and he was forced to try and pull his patented "diving elbow drop" with a 4 year old...  Don't stop believing Randy... a comeback is clearly in the works.

• Woman charged after allegedly biting child - this story is simply a good reminder to never hire someone to babysit your children that insists on carrying his or her own barbeque sauce in their purse or "man bag".... step away from the child honey...

So, there you have it.  Our world is fucked and we seem to love it.  A word of advice though, stop consuming the garbage that the media serves up to you and focus your time and energy on something that matters (like being charitable to those in your city vs. participating in a fundraiser for earthquake victims in a country across an ocean so you look cool).  It will be too late soon enough.  Either way, the sun will come out... tomorrow....