Story-A-Day #384: Movember

MOVEMBER

There are many who do it as an excuse to look ridiculous.  They are missing the point.  Movember isn't meant to be about growing a mustache, it is meant to be about raising awareness, and funds, for prostate cancer.

Sure there is something fun about growing facial hair.  It gives you a month to feel like someone different.  It gives you a month to not have to worry about having a perfect shave for work each and every morning.  I used to set out to sculpt the most ridiculous 'stache I could into my month's worth of growth.  This year, I decided for a more simplified approach.  I decided to go the classic route instead of the ridiculous.

This year, I had another reason for growing a mustache though.  This year, I knew someone who had been through the very illness I was aiming to raise awareness of through facial hair growth.  I don`t know him well, but I know him well enough to know that he is a strong, intelligent, and dedicated man.  He is strong enough to have beat his cancer, intelligent enough to radiate wisdom and dedicated to not just his family and his career, but his entire city.

On its own, that would be enough.  When it comes to this particular individual though, there is even more to it.  He is a survivor.

I mentioned that he is not someone that I knew well, but that is not entirely true.  He is someone who I grew to know well enough over a very short period of time.  I learned to appreciate his quick wit, open friendliness, and fierce intelligence during that time.  I grew to know what he stood for, what was important to him, and what he believed in.

Much of what he believed in centred on his family.  He has worked hard to become the man he is, the leader, the father, the husband.

Everyone needs a reason to support the cause.  Mine happens to be the Deputy Mayor of North Bay and the father of a good friend.  That is why I grew a moustache this year.  To raise awareness and support so that more people like Peter might live to survive.  We need survivors in this world, people of character and strength.

We need more people like Peter.

Story-A-Day #383: Cheese Ball

CHEESE BALL

People call me a lot of things.  Some of the are true, some of them are complete and utter...well you can imagine where I might have been headed there.

I guess it is human nature.  There are people who find it necessary to call others names as a means of brightening their own existence.  Their are people who would go so far as to accuse others of perpetrating certain acts as a means of justifying their own actions, or lack thereof.  There are those who would even go so far as to accuse people of committing acts that are so beyond their character because the words they spill are so fundamentally untrue.  Those are the lowest kind of people, those personalities who are so insecure and low upon themselves that they would aim to drag the innocent down for a moment in the spotlight.  They are the lowest kind of people, and they do not warrant any further rumination.

Not more than three days ago, I had someone very close to me call me a cheese ball.  They did so in a loving manner and as a response, I did the only thing that seemed fitting under the circumstances.  I stormed out of the living room and into the kitchen.

At first, she thought I was sincere in my outrage.  It was a sufficient show I suppose.  I assured her with a smile and told her to keep watching the show.  I assured her that I would be back within the next 15 minutes with a surprise.

I spent the time wisely, shredding some aged cheddar, and mixing in the food processor with some cream cheese.  I added in a dab of hot mustard, a few healthy squirts of Worchestershire sauce, and a few other secret ingredients.  I threw it all in the fridge for a moment, then set about chopping some pecans and parsley.  When the chopping was complete, I mixed the nuts and greens and spread them out on the chopping board.

I took the cheese mixture out of the fridge, rolled it in a ball, and rolled it through the mixture.  It clung to the exterior nicely, a succulent skin of parsley and nuts.  I placed it in the middle of a plate and spread some crackers around it.  With a final flourish, I jabbed a small knife into the ball.

"What have you been up to in there?" she asked.

"Living up to my potential," I replied, and placed the snack on the coffee table before her.  "Enjoy."

Story-A-Day #382: Portal

PORTAL

We have no idea where it came from.  Every study we have conducted has resulted in inconclusive results.  That being said, the results have been somewhat astounding.  There are wavelengths and frequencies radiating from the cracked fissure that seemed to open over night.

At first, we figured it was a sinkhole of some sort, but the radiation was something we could not account for.  The gusts of antimatter, were a whole other concern entirely.

It became clear to us, fairly quickly, that the cause of the fissure was not the primary concern.  Once it started pulsating, we realized that our initial excitement was the entirely wrong reaction.  What we needed to do was not study the cause, or the effect, but put a quick and substantial end to it all.

When we discovered the first alien creature near the crack in the pavement, we realized that what we were dealing with was in fact a portal of sorts.  There was no other real explanation.  This hole in the ground seemed to be an access point to a different realm entirely.

We were lucky that the first creature we discovered did not appear to have survived the crossing, but that did not mean that the next attempt would result the same way.

Out initial attempts proved futile.  The contents of four entire cement mixers disappeared down the void.  Our latest attempt has been to fuse a solid iron plank over the opening, bolted into the surrounding earth and fused tightly to multiple adjoining surfaces.  So far the prognosis is good, but there is no way we will know for sure until the project is complete.

All we can do for now is cross our fingers and hope for the best.

Story-A-Day #381: Dirty Getaway

DIRTY GETAWAY

The most important aspect of a heist is the planning.  If you aren't fully prepared for a full range of potential situations, you will inevitably fail.  You need to have contingencies in place, you need to have a backup plan, and an escape clause.  You need to be prepared for any eventuality to ensure that you succeed.

The heist itself is the easy part, as long as you appreciate that the devil truly is in the details.

The problem is, there are some occasions you can never plan for.  Most aspiring thieves believe that a crime should be committed under the cover of night.  Of course it makes sense, but people tend to be at their most vigilant when suspicious activities are being committed in the dark.

In my experience, it is easier to execute your plan in broad daylight.  If you walk right into your selected scene of crime, make it look like you have every right to be there, the average person will not question your presence.

The problem is, you can't plan for everything.  Weather is something you can never plan for, and although we had accommodated a number of different scenarios, we did not take into account the light dusting of snow that fell overnight.  Snow means evidence.  We will inevitably leave traces of our presence here: footprints, hand prints, all manner of evidence.

Still, our window is small.  It has to be today.  When in doubt, create a plan C.  In this case, we will buy new shoes, cheap generic ones that will be harder to trace.  Each of us will where the same shoes, in the same size.   That will make the prints more confusing than anything.  Was there a single person on the scene, or multiple suspects?

We get in, acquire the item, and get out.  No questions, no suspicions, no doubts, and no easy evidence.  It almost seems to easy; and that's the other thing you need to be careful of.  If it seems like it will be too easy, then it probably is.

Regardless, today is the day, and we will succeed.  That is what we came here to do.

Story-A-Day #380: Fine Wine

FINE WINE

It was a blend of varietals and the result was a medium bodied delight with notes of plum and blackberry, and just a hint of spice in the finish.  It clung to the walls of the crystal goblet delightful, sheer red curtains on the pristene surfaceof the glass.

I took another sip and let the liquid swirl around my mouth for a few moments before pulling a whistle of air in through my pursed lips.  The delicate subtleties of flavour fluorished and I let the wine slowly slide down my throat.

I pick up a small piece of aged cheddar from a silver tray and place it in my mouth.  I chew it slowly, letting the sharp flavour of the cheese mingle with the lingering remnants of the fine wine.  It is a perfect fusion of tastes.

I pick up the decanter from the tableand swirl the wine gently.  It clings to the sides, just as it did in my wine glass.  I pick up the empty glass, and fill it halfway once more.

I decide on a brief cahnge of venue, and pick up the cheese tray with my free hand.  A few moments later, I am settled into my arm chair, in front of a blazing fire on the hearth.  I sip the wine again, and pick up a piece of pepper encrusted salami from the tray, and another piece of cheese.  They mingle and dance in my mouth, a swirling concoction of taste sensations.

I am normally a beer drinker, but I must admit there is a rare delight in drinking a fine wine, and pairing it with just the right foods.  It is a lovely way to spend a cool saturday evening in November.

I turn on the television and flip through the channels.  There must be something good on one of the travel channels, a nice diversionary escape.

Story-A-Day #379: First Snow

FIRST SNOW

It started as a bitter day, a cold wind blowing down from the north.  By the time I finally got home, you could feel it coming, that firsst dusting of snow that marks the beginning of a long, cold winter of discontent.

We have been lucky this year.  ususally the first snow comes on Halloween, a light dusting that clings desperately the the ground as a harbinger of the winter to come.  This year, we managed to last until late November before the inevitable change arrived.  But change is inevitable.

When the first snow arrives, it a portent of things to come.  The first snow shows that while the world can be a beautiful place when all goes white, it is a strange disconnect.  Winter can be beauty, but it is also a beast.

When the world is blanket in that pure white blanket, it is a beautiful place.  It is beautiful as long as you are looking at it from the inside.  When you are out in that world though, it can be a fierce and commanding experience.  Wind gusts every which way, blassting stinging particles of snow and ice across your already wind ravaged skin.

It is the winds of winter that bring the true misery.  On the calmer days, it truly is a paradise.  On the rare days where the snows fall fat and fluffy, it is a true paradise on earth.

This is the first snow of the year though, and no matter when it comes, it always seems too soon.

Story-A-Day #378: Birthday

BIRTHDAY

It was a day like every other, but it just so happened to be my birthday.  I am of an age, where celebrating my accelerated distancing from youth no longer holds much merit, but when I walked into the house after a long day at work, I can not deny that it didn't make me happy.

I could see the balloons and streamers of course.  They were impossible to miss, but that didn't change the fact that something special had been done.

"Hello?" I called out from the bottom of the stairs as I slowly unlaced my shoes and placed them on the rack.  "I'm home."

There was no reply.  I shrugged out of my coat and hung it in the closet, then climbed up the stairs to the main floor.

"Surprise!" A chorus of voices greeted me.  And it was.

I had not expected this, not in the least, and I felt a warm wash of emotion pass over me as I surveyed the room.  This was magnificent.  I had stepped into a room full of family and my closest friends.  I scanned their smiling faces, and felt myself smiling in return.

The impromptu standoff came to a quick close and I accepted a cold drink into my hand.  I'd started off the day with no intention of making a celebration out of this day, but it was hard to not get caught up in the moment.

Being in a room full of people who are happy to be there on your account has that effect.  It is almost impossible to deny.  I slowly made the rounds, talking to the people I had not had time to see or visit with in weeks, and sometimes months.  You reach a certain age and it is hard to find the time outside of your existing obligations to enjoy the finer things in life, and the finer people who are a part of it.

But sometimes, it is the little things that remind u of what is important.  Sometimes it takes a moment in time to remind us about the things that truly matter in life.  A job and money are important, but they should only be important as a means of supporting what truly is.