Well, my septic pump fried a week ago and was planning on getting warranty on it. Then the sewer backed up. That forced me into the very expensive task of getting a plumber in to check it out. He said my tank was full and backing up into the house, I disagreed and he didn’t even bother to snake the line… $140.00 for his trip out. Brought in another plumber to install a pump and was under the impression that they could snake out the line… Nope. Now I’m waiting for the snake/camera guys to show up… Seems like a lot of shit to get shit to flow downhill, but it’ll be worth It in the end… Wish me luck!
The memory ends at the Nifty Fifties Cafe, where the sign is half destroyed and the food is half edible. The whirlwind trip that we took to Medicine Hat (don’t ask why no one quit knows the reason) lasted less than fourty eight hours but was like living a memory. A memory of striking out for the familiar unknown with most of the usual suspects. Liqour fueled into a haze of small town strippers and one casino.
Long weekend monday and the world is quiet while we wait for cut up frozen fries passed off as hashbrowns, over cooked eggs and greasy bacon. The cook has disappeared out the back door to smoke a least three times before our breakfast is served. Walls are dusty where they aren’t covered in James Dean, Elvis and Marilyn Monroe memorabilia. The whole place has the feel of a rock in a river, passed over. The memory must remain and never fade in the nifty fifties cafe.
This year started off with a vasectomy, mine in fact, and while I’m sure it’s nothing new for the world it certainly is for me. The procedure was not too painful or extended but there is something decidedly odd about the experience. You are on an examination table with your pants and long underwear around your ankles with your penis taped to your stomach making jokes with your doctor as he pulls fleshy tubes from your testicles.
Fresh bananas are fantastic, but are sadly unavailable on the prairies. Clearly growing fresh banana’s is the only option but coming by a banana plant in winter is not as easy as it sounds.
In January a banana corm from Arizona arrived. I promptly planted my banana in a pot, placed it in front of the window and began impatiently waiting for signs of life.
A week went by of daily checks of the plant for life. Finally small patches of green began to spread and one leaf began poking through the top of the stem.
I was elated and began proudly though carefully strutting around declaring to my wife and friends, that I’ve had a vasectomy but my banana is growing.
Just thought I would post the Blog entry that got me short listed for CBC Canada Writes 2010.