No M&Ms in the Big Smoke

We went briefly to the land of sweat, the land of tears, the land of wine and many beers: OntARio! I checked at Pearson Airport in the TDOT and there are no dark chocolate M&Ms there, either. (I also checked in America a couple of weeks ago. Nada. George Lucas is getting SUCH a beating.)

I did not hear a single emergency vehicle siren the whole time we was away. Don’t know what you got till it’s gone.

It is 15 degrees cooler here. Those of you who are in southern Ontario right now know that you have got some messed up weather. And you also know that you are totally in for it because it’s only the 8th of June and it’s already 32C and humid as Pat O’Brien’s butt crack.

Read about Pat O’Brien.

Those of you in BC, (or other reasonable climates) who have never been to Southern Ontario (or SOONT, as I like to call it), imagine walking into a sauna. In your clothes. And then continuing to function. For the Ontario wedding we are attending in 10 days, I may not actually buy a dress. I may just wear a pretty towel with my yellow shoes.

GATS is wearing a nice, clean, white shirt and talking on his cell-phone, standing with his head out his living room window. “Pop-up Video” is on in the background. When we went to America, the border guy on the way back to Canada reminded me of GATS. Maybe it was the distance (several feet) and the layer of glass between us, but I think he was how I imagined GATS might be at his day job: surly, power-tripping, a little bored by having to come up with different random questions to ask people to shake them up & catch them in their inevitable lies.

“Where have you been?”
“How long?”
“Value of your purchases?”
“Whose vehicle are you driving?”
“What’s in the backpack?”
“Did you shower today?”
“Can I have one of those chips?”
“What’s with the duck puppet?”

It must be quite a trip, I thought, to sit in a booth at a border crossing all day, being a voice of authority and not allowed to crack a smile. Would you be able to switch that off at the end of the day? I don’t think I would. With the constant expectation in my forebrain that people are deceitful, an 8-hour day would stretch out in front of me, vast as the pacific ocean. As it is, my day is looking a lot like a great lake. But at least it’s Wednesday, not Monday.

Ah, the bright side. Maybe if I stopped looking on it, the M&Ms would appear to me. Tough call.