Introduction to MANliness...

I think there should be a course in high school to teach suburban boys (like myself) how to do typically MANLY things. Potential lesson topics could include:

• Changing the oil of an F250
• Barbecuing the perfect steaks
• Changing a flat tire of a car
• Changing a flat tire of a car while under fire
• Growing facial hair
• Hunting
• Field stripping a gun

An advanced level course could include something like, how to fix a walking laundry machine. 

This could have come in particularly useful tonight. While almost busting a hernia laughing at reviews of the 2010 classic film, Titantic 2,  A yelled upstairs to advise me of the fact that "laundry machine is dancing!"

That's not how I remembered leaving it

My washer has this chronic issue of vibrating so much that it walks some distance. Using my graduate degree in the liberal arts, I previously diagnosed the problem to be an unlevelled machine. Apparently front loading machines have a tendency to shake violently if they are even 1 mm unlevelled. Naturally, I did not find the youtube video telling me this small fact until I had taken apart half the non-servicible parts of the machine. 

On this occasion, I figured that the levelling nut on one of the legs had loosened, leaving the machine unlevel again. So with A's assistance, I tightened up all the nuts and pushed the behemoth back into place. While quietly relieved that it was a simple fix, I finished up by reminding A that it was "no biggie," thereby reinforcing my man cred in front of an attractive woman. That's right babe, I can fix ANYTHING. 

But the truth is that I can't. And that's why I think somebody should teach the next generation of suburban boys some real skills in case they encounter something beyond a mis-levelled washing machine. 

Christmas Day!

To friends near and far, Merry Christmas to all!

lasst uns auf den Weihnachtsmarkt gehen Vancouver!

So the first week of December is over, bringing us THAT much closer to Christmas. 

And still, I  have my Halloween pumpkin at the doorstep. To update, it is still Orange and recognizably a pumpkin--but it's probably losing a lot of it's resale value by the hour. Still no takers on Craigslist...

Despite the quickly rotting pumpkin outside my door, I am actually a pretty festive holiday person. From the reruns of the Home Alone and a Charlie Brown Christmas to the sounds of Mariah Carey's Christmas covers--it's a fun time of the year.

To prove that I'm actually in season, I brought A with me to visit the Vancouver Christmas Market today. Some highlights:

That's a big...bratwurst. I put a $1 coin on the side for comparison. I had to be creative in eating it though--but I made sure A deleted the pictures lest they end up on a fetish website someday. 

It was just like being in Köln or Düsseldorf, minus Volkswagens, umlauts, orderly queues... oh and actual Germans.

But wait! They did put in a German sign. I never got to that chapter in my Learn German booklet, but I bet it stands for something very typically German. Possibly translated as, "queue up properly," or "telling jokes allowed in this area only." 

We did choose one of the coldest days in Vancouver to hit up the market. The hot fruit punch and hot apple cider helped to warm us up. And as we headed back on the skytrain, despite our runny noses and chilly toes, we both agreed that it was a great time.  

"Those flashing lights come from everywhere..."

So after dinner tonight, I was reminded by A that it was my turn to take out Mr. Dooz. I was kinda reluctant knowing full well that he hadn’t taken a dump all day and that he was likely going to make me pick up his poops somewhere along our walk. Mr. Dooz has this thing for taking his poops in the shadows. I don’t really fault him as I’d probably do the same if I had to take a dump on my street as well.  

It’s the one thing about dog ownership that I haven’t yet mastered. Especially when I consider the poops that I’m picking up is actually the output of my money (ie. Dog food) that I’m inputting into him.  It begs the question of who is actually in a leadership position when I’m walking my dog. I am picking up his crap after all.

Mr Dooz

So Mr. Dooz and I stepped off and while we were walking around the neighbourhood, it struck me that nearly every house on the block had Christmas lights already set up. We are talking sophisticated displays, everything from reindeers, elves and inflatable Santas to flashing lights that would put Times Square to shame.  We are talking like massive displays that are keeping the kid with seizures who lives down the street from coming out.

Lights. Everywhere. Then I looked back at my house and realized—we are one of the exceptions to the Christmas lights.  

Not only do I not have Christmas lights set up; I actually still have a pumpkin from Halloween still on my front door step.

Halloween Pumpkin in December?! Say WHAAT?!

Since moving into a neighbourhood full of young families, it’s been challenging keeping up with the neighbourhood spirit here. It was only after much badgering from A that I finally went to pick up a pumpkin at the store the day before Halloween. I never really saw the point, I mean, I’m spending money on this pumpkin only to chuck it out in a few days. I actually left the pumpkin out on the front doorstep hoping that it would magically turn into a pumpkin soup or muffins over the last few weeks--never happened. This, despite my suggestions to A.

As an aside,  did you know that Christmas lights were originally an American tradition? The lights are credited to Edward Johnson, an associate of Thomas Edison who hand assembled an electric line of 80 multi coloured bulbs and then wound them around a tree. (His house probably burned down the week afterwards from the half baked wiring, but they left that out) That’s the learning moment of this blog post to equip you for your next dinner party conversation.

Anyways, while walking I thought more about why people put up Christmas lights. I think it must be a WASPY thing, because we never had this many lights growing up in the hard projects of Milliken (who am I kidding).

I also concluded that for the most part they were pretty tacky looking. Lights are to Christmas decorations what McDonalds is to gourmet food. I also saw a few wreaths on doors put up which look a million times better, much classier.  And honestly, when was the last time you heard of a house burning down from a wreath? That’s right, NEVER.

Before I could conclude more opinions about the lights, Mr. Dooz stopped to sniff a spot and assumed ‘the squat.’ He laid a hefty poop, conveniently in front of one of the houses away from the street lights and without any Christmas lights set up. Boy was it was dark…

Hmm. Maybe lights aren’t a bad idea after all.