Gobble Gobble

Canadian Comfort Food

SWMBO lost the plot last week? Sometimes you gotta wonder what goes in that pretty little head of hers? She is eating her soup and grilled cheese sandwich and says to me (out loud, no less): "Did you know that you always serve me tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches? Like it was some sort of revelation? I explained that this is the only sort of soup that you allowed to have with a grilled cheese sandwich. "It's a bylaw in most municipalities. I think it's in the bible?" "You take your perfectly grilled sandwich, you dip it in the dollop of ketchup on your plate, then you dip it in the soup and take a bite? You use your spoon for the odd slurp and if you work it perfectly, you run out of all three at the same time. Ketchup. Sandwich. Soup. "Gross" according to her. "Well it would be if you served it with Cream of Mushroom". Little globs of ketchup in your white soup. Or chicken noodle, nice clear chicken broth with globs of ketchup in it? Jessh! Did you know that Campbell's even introduced a Grilled Cheese Tomato soup flavour?

Pennies From Heaven

I have found a new way to pour huge amounts of cash into our household. Occasionally, SWMBO has a hankering for Calabrese bread from Silvia's Bakery in Cambridge. By hankering I mean she orders me to go forth and "don't come home without it!" It's getting harder and harder to find. The Freshco two blocks north of me, has it four days a week after 10:00. They also have those chained grocery carts which I hate because I never have a quarter. No more! You go to the far environs of the parking lot and you will find a lone cart which someone was too lazy to return to the buggy park. You grab it, walk it home, use it, then return it and get a free quarter! I now have three of them in the little dish in my car! I'm saving up for new speakers on my F6B. KAAAA-ching.

Our Optimum Week

I'm not going to go crazy with your list this week. You are going to buy what you are going to buy (same thing at Christmas). If you got your turkey for half price last week at No Frills, then my work here is done (for Thanksgiving). I'll just give you some top line things that are a good deals and that you may wish to incorporate into your Gobble Gobble planning. Offers were shit, no surprise. Zehr's bonus redemption and overall continuity at $350. Here's your list:

I Am Reading

A buddy was telling me about a book he found fascinating which documents the church's collusion with the Nazis. I know some of the story as I am a Christopher Hitchens fanboy and he has written about this dark chapter of church's history, The Missionary Position. My buddy liked it so much he lent it to someone and never got it back. I found a used copy on Amazon for sixteen bucks, so I will read it, then return it to his library as my downsizing efforts continue. Oh, the book is called Hitler's Pope by John Cornwell.

We Are Watching

Reacher (Season 4) on Prime - It got a little silly towards the end. Worth it to see the evil CIA guy get his ear ripped off. I will refrain from any other spoilers. Hopefully, Neagley is better. Three stars.
A Remarkable Place To Die on Prime - Not to be confused with A Beautiful Place To Die - Martha's Vineyard which is a Hallmark movie (no comment). It's good with spectacular location shooting. First season was four episodes, second season is six so the trajectory makes sense. Other than a moronic rookie cop, played by a crap actor, the rest stands up. I think he may have been a DEI hire. Check it out. Four stars.
Blue Lights on BBC - One of the best things on television. It took so long for this season to come to general release, we had to go back and watch season three. Well, SWMBO did. I usually have subtitles on when the accents get thick but SWMBO can't read them and follow a complex knitting pattern at the same time, so she is at a disadvantage. We were a bit lost. I worked on the new roof for my Man Cave while she raced back through season 3, then caught me up. When I originally penned this, I was sure that brogue described a heavy scottish accent. Nope.

• Brogue: This word describes a strong Irish accent. It comes from old words for a coarse leather shoe or a "hold on the tongue".
• Burr: This word describes a Scottish accent. It specifically refers to the distinct, rolled or trilled "r" sound in Scottish speech

The Rabbit of Caerbannog

Your local city council allocates the vast majority of your tax dollars to programs which affect you on a daily basis. Yes, Carney sets federal taxes and negotiates transfer payments. Yes, Ford sets provincial taxes and makes pronouncements on what Ontario 'munis' should be doing without providing any funding. Those guys mostly collect money, take their cut, and send a portion of it back downhill. The rubber meets the road (police, fire, ambulance, basket weaving for the homeless, hospitals, bicycle traffic lights and ploughing your sidewalks) to those those little Thursday night meetings down at your City Hall. Here's a line from a Toronto Sun column that has stayed with me for thirty years. "Most people spend more time at Leon's deciding which couch to buy, than they do casting their vote in municipal elections. The reality is on your behalf, those local politicians will spend more than that couch cost ... every single year they are in office. 85% of the population don't even bother to vote".

It's like saying, send me a new couch. Any size. Any shape. Any colour. Any price. I'm fine with whatever you decide. Ever since I read that, I make it a point to talk to the candidates when they come to the door and then follow through by actually voting. People complain that their vote doesn't make a difference. In local politics, it does. Advanced polls open next week. Choose wisely!

... and finally

Our Early Thanksgiving

The day after my fifth birthday, I watched breathlessly as an awkward red headed marine named John Glenn make the entire world forget about Alan Shepherd and Gus Grissom, both of whom actually beat him into space. He was the first to orbit the earth and had some excitement (nearly died) on the way down, but he was third. Fifth if you count a couple of Russians. No matter, I was hooked. I decided right there and then, I wanted to be a pilot. That goal never wavered until it came to a crashing halt nine years later when I lost the use of my right eye at a pickup utility hockey game. No matter. I remain a flight groupie to this very day. I watch everything, read everything and SWMBO routinely exclains: "how can you sit and watch airplanes take off and land for hours on YouTube?" I have also read four or five hundred novels where flying is integral to the plot. So I know one thing for sure: Pilots hate doctors. Despise them in fact. I think a pilot in a Tom Wolfe novel (The Right Stuff) said it for all pilots everywhere; "seeing a doctor can only accomplish two things:

1) "Finding some bullshit excuse to keep me on the ground".
2) "Grudgingly allow me to fly, which I could already do before I walked in there".

All of this is just a roundabout way of saying that after my health scare in early May, I have been poked and prodded in just about every way imaginable. That's good when you are pushing seventy. Sort of a look at the dashboard to see if there are any idiot lights flashing? After all, SWMBO may need to trade me in for a newer model? What could go wrong? Well, the mechanic (my family doctor) gave me the long face about a month ago. Seems my bloodwork showed a blood protein (Kappa) throwing clones of itself and he wanted me to see an internal medicine specialist here in town, That guy, wanted more bloodwork and a pelvic CT Scan. What is he looking for? Turns out the presence of these clones can indicate a hidden tumour. ("I think I have a tumour" in an Arnold Schwarzenegger voice please?) Mmmm. Let's sit at home for two weeks and wait for the CT results. That's not stressful. "Good news Mr. Fountain, your scan showed no tumour but your bloodwork is actually a little bit worse. We are going to refer you to a hematologist in Kitchener as this could be a blood disorder. I leave feeling slightly better. I get one of those text messages saying the Waterloo Regional Health Network has a referral, tried to reach me and could I call to book an appointment? Sure, because all of this is just so much fun! So I call and the cheerful little thing answers the phone like this: "CANCER CENTER, how can I help you?" WTAF! "Sorry, I must have the wrong number. I was after an appointment with a hematologist who was going to tell me to stop masterbating and eat more kale?" Oh, no Mr Fountain, you have called the right place and we are looking forward to meeting you! The feeling was not mutual but I booked an appointment anyway and dove back down the rabbit hole. Turns out this referral can be mildly concerning or a frigging nightmare. I will not keep you in suspense. I do not have Waldenstein Syndrome (which is a non-Hodgkin's lymphoma). What I do have is MGUS (Monoclonal Gammopathy of Undetermined Significance), I shit you not. Someone sat down, thought about this at some length and came up with that name!). The hematologist was very nice, examined both me and my chart and used an old car analogy on me: "As we age, the body can naturally start to misfire and we are seeing that in your bone marrow. Lots of people are walking around right now and have no idea that they even have this condition. In the unlikely event that this turns into something dire (2% chance annually), we will treat it. We know what to watch for and we are watching. That is half the battle. Go home. Come see us once a year.

So I wander back to my car like a broken robot and have another little cry in the parking lot (I have been doing a bit of that lately). Then I rush home. To my yard and my gardens and my books, and my dogs and my girl. I hope your Thanksgiving is as good as mine will be.

Mitch and Maddie and Milo and SWMBO