How to get a Winnipeg tree removed in 700 easy steps

 
"I think that I shall never see/ a poem ugly as a tree (services company)." - Joyce Kilmer.

A lovely, old elm tree in my backyard took a beating in the big typhoon that recently blew through Winnipeg. But little did I know that it was not the answer blowin' in the wind, but a question: where can I find a reputable tree services company in this town?

Day one: save the elm!

 "Oh no, there's a huge crack in the tree!" I said to my friend, the squirrel. With love for my tree on the brain, I called my friends at company #1 - the company that bands my trees. 

Its workers showed up promptly and promised to try to save the tree. Later that day, they called and said, "No, the tree is cracked in two places and has to go."

The other issue: the tree threatens my house on one side and hydro wires on the other, so an unplanned fall wouldn't be good either way.

About to go away on vacation, I accepted the diagnosis, we made a deal and with a heavy heart, I headed out knowing that when I came back, the tree would be gone. Sniff, sniff.

Day six: I hate you, company #1

Cue my cell phone ringing on vacation day five. It was company #1!

"Hi. A guy got injured when he removed a tree. Not yours. Huh-huh, huh-huh. And now I'm going on vacation for two weeks."

Like the student with the double-barreled excuse ("it rained and I had a toothache"), it had the ring of "I never really intended to do this job anyway."

After bidding the company a cold goodbye, I gave my dad and his partner a call and they called company #2 to provide a quote in my absence.

I can't complain about the speedy attention and expertise of company #2's representative, but the quote came in high, and the company wouldn't be able to handle the job for a week. I figured I'd get another quote when I got home, since it's always best to have three quotes.

Day 10: the tree whisperer

So, I called company #3. The rep agreed that the tree has to go, provided a quote that fell somewhere between the first two, spoke fondly of "a relationship with Manitoba Hydro," and promised to get on the tree "this Wednesday" and, barring that, removing the really, really cracked limb in advance. Deal!

Day 18: what the hell?

Somehow by the end of the very week he was to start the job, that promise became, "I'm not allowed to touch the tree without Manitoba Hydro. It's their delay."

The tree whisperer's earlier promises all but forgotten (by him), I called Manitoba Hydro. The representative told me that "a crew was out earlier today, but I can't see their report, because they've gone home for the day."

Meanwhile the tree had started to really crack and looked like it would soon come down on the house. So, I called back the tree whisperer. He wasn't happy, but he came out and tied up the tree, ostensibly so it won't fall on the house when it inevitably snaps. If the tree and I were fit to be tied when he arrived, perhaps we both felt a little more confident when he left.

Day 22

That was the last time I heard from the guy, begging the question: if a tree falls in your backyard, and there's no tree services company around to hear it, does it make a sound?

I'll let you know.

I'm telling you for the last time: the Acropolis is being eaten away by acid rain!

Papa George's - slowly being eaten away by acid rain.

 A great lesson bears repeating.

When I was a kid, my favorite restaurant on planet Earth was Papa George's in Osborne Village, where I'd regularly meet my folks for lunch.

(Now, I refer to the restaurant as Pa Oge's, thanks to the florescent letters that burned out 10 years ago and will, apparently, never be replaced).

Back in the day, Papa George himself walked you to your table, lit your candle, put down the Island of Chios placemats ("The history of Chios is quite old..."), served you up your food, and left you to ponder a painting of the Acropolis on the wall.

On one of these fine occasions, my father gestured up at the painting and asked, "Did you know the Acropolis is being slowly eaten away by acid rain?" I nodded my head knowingly and ate my souvlaki.

Little did I know that we would meet there for lunch 15 or 20 more times, and each time he'd ask, "Did you know the Acropolis is being slowly eaten away by acid rain?" Along the way, the line morphed from "serious fact" to "running joke" to "slow torture."

So, on the 21st visit, I jumped into action and said, "Yes - yes - I know: the Acropolis is slowly being eaten away by acid rain," threw my meal against the wall, and ran out of the restaurant screaming.

Long story short: now we meet for lunch at Pony Corral. Did you know the pony statue is slowly being eaten away by acid rain?

Rob Lowe doesn't hate us - he feels our pain

Rob Lowe as Terry Dullum.

What a difference a day makes. 

Why, it seems like just yesterday that I was pissed off at Minneapolis CBS affiliate WCCO for ruining the Tony Awards with painful scrolls, maps, beeps, and trolls.

There weren't actually trolls, but it's a nice rhyme that summarizes how I felt at the time: like little, hairy dwarves had broken into my house and were biting me as I tried to enjoy a little song and dance.

I got a little bounce from the rant, but nothing like when Winnipeg-visitor and Hollywood celebrity Rob Lowe got pissed off about the same thing. He tweeted something about being in a "hellhole" because Grand Forks' ABC affiliate WDAZ interrupted a basketball game with local election results.

Our local media is so used to the "xxxx hates Winnipeg" story, it replaced "xxxx" with "Rob Lowe" and ran with it.

But, no, Rob Lowe doesn't hate Winnipeg. You'll find that he actually hates WDAZ for cutting into his basketball game with its local election results. He's not mad at us, he feels our pain!

We Winnipeggers are so used to this stuff from our U.S. stations, we've somehow started to think that it's our lot in life to put up with the never-ending thunderstorm watches, program break-ins, and Terry Dullum's "slightly off-the-wall observations" on the WDAZ evening news.

I'm not suggesting the election results aren't important: to the good people of Grand Forks, they clearly are. But - as I said in my last rant - this kind of news is what Twitter and the radio are for.

If these results were so important to WDAZ, why didn't it interrupt advertising instead of program content? Turns out there was something more important than the election results: paid ads.

So to our fine affiliate to the south, I offer some friendly advice: before you break into regular programming, simply ask yourself this question: "Would I throw a rock through my TV screen if I sat down to watch my favorite show and saw this instead?"

In return for doing this small thing, we'll take your tired, poor huddled cases of Cherry Dr. Pepper yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your Olive Garden, the homeless Cinnabons, and everything else that NY Mayor Michael Bloomberg hates, and we'll bring them back to Canada as we lift our lamps beside your golden door!

Deal?

By the way, Rob Lowe and I were wondering: who won the election?

Gladwell and Rowland: how to be an FBI profiler - and psychic!

If you want to see author Malcolm Gladwell in Winnipeg, you have a choice:

• You can buy tickets on Ticketmaster for the low, low price of a million dollars (I exaggerate).

• You can like the Centrallia Facebook Page and be entered in a draw.

• You can enter the Downtown Peggy contest by sharing your favorite odd or insightful tidbit from Mr. Gladwell. 

In other words: start with the last two, and drop the dough when you don't win!

My favorite Gladwell insightful tidbit

My favorite chapter from Gladwell's What the Dog Saw is "Dangerous Minds," in which Gladwell gives a shout-out to magician Ian Rowland and his book, "the Full Facts Book of Cold Reading" to debunk FBI offender profiling (the chapter appears in its entirety here in the New Yorker).

Gladwell's point: FBI profiles are "so full of unverifiable, contradictory, and ambiguous language that (they) could support virtually any interpretation," and by simply mixing and matching these simple techniques you too could be an astrologer, psychic or FBI profiler:

The Rainbow Ruse - "the statement which credits the client with...a personality type and the opposite." Example: "You are introverted, but you can also be lots of fun."

The Jacques Statement - "Named for the character in As You Like It, who gives the Seven Ages of Man speech, tailors the predictions to the age of the subject." Example: you say to someone in their 50s or 60s, "You sometimes think about your lost youth."

The Barnum Statement - Named after everyone's favorite hero of the circus and public relations, you simply "make an assertion so general that anyone would agree." Example: "Your life has been crazy."

The Fuzzy Fact - The "seemingly factual statement couched in a way that "leaves plenty of scope to developed into something more specific." Example: "I can see you're from Canada, possibly Manitoba. Could it be Winnipeg?"

Inspired by Gladwell, I picked up Rowland's book and got some more:

Fine Flattery - You can gain agreement by flattering those around you. Compare your client to "people in general" and then flatter them by suggested they're an improvement. Example: "Compared to most, you're very honest."

The Psychic Credit - Credit your client with having an intuitive gift. Example: "You're have great insight and perception into (whatever)."

Sugar Lumps - Get the client to embrace your psychic junk by giving them a pleasant emotional reward for doing it. Example: "You are more connected to the spiritual world than others - I get much stronger tarot impressions from you than from other clients."

Greener Grass - We're all fascinated by the road not traveled. Compliment the client, and then refer to the path not traveled. Example: "I see you are very successful in the professional world. However, this life has also brought its penalties..."

The Good Chance Guess/Lucky Guess/Fluke - Good chance: "Your home address has a 2 in the number." Lucky guess: give a common name or initials, and wait for the client to accept it. Fluke: "Your name is Claudine."

For some reason, these techniques also strike me as being of particular interest to advertisers. In next year's ad class: I start reading tarot cards.

Help me tear down the Wall and one man's dreams

Hey, Pengi: leave those kids alone.

With Roger Waters playing the Wall at MTS Centre twice this week, I'm taken back to a simpler time in which I pirated the double album on then-state-of-the-art technology: cassette tapes.

Dubbing cassettes was a boring business, so I'd make it more interesting by plugging a mic into the stereo and talking over the music: an earlier precursor to "the director's commentary" on DVDs.

When I dubbed the cassette for my pal, Jason Beck, I turned on the mic right after the intro to "Vera," in which Roger Waters asks the musical question, "Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn?"

At the time, Beck had a stuffed penguin named "Pengi" (maybe he still does: see the creepy photo, below), so I said "Death to Pengi!" into the mic, ruining the song for him forever.

Pengi and Jason. 

Long story short: Beck will be in the Waters audience on Thursday night, and I'm looking forward to screaming "Death to Pengi" at the key moment, ruining it for him all over again. If you're in the audience on Thursday night, feel free to do the same.

I think Pengi would've wanted it that way.

Use online content to build your business: May 24 seminar

Are you content with your content?

Either way, I invite you to join me at the Women's Enterprise Centre on Thursday, May 24, from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m., where I'll be doing a presentation on using online content, conversation, and persuasion to build your business. The official blurb: 

"Writing for the Web is a lot more than just writing. It’s about knowing how to create new and original content for your blog and website, tying it in with your social-media presence, and being familiar with the basic principles of persuasion and online marketing. Be prepared for an educational and entertaining session that will deliver tips and tools to make your online content more interesting and effective."

Educational and entertaining? How can you afford NOT to come?

You can register online here. 

Looking forward to the event - hope to see you there!

A fine time to revisit Foth's classic Winnipeg article

"Everyone worries about Winnipeg."

So begins the great article by Allan Fotheringham, printed in Maclean's in 1995 and criminally unavailable online (until now).

With rumors of the Winnipeg Jets leaving town (among other awful things, like Winnipeggers voting Conservative), Fotheringham reminds us that "any city that can abide those mosquitoes can cope with anything."

All in all, a lovely summation of Winnipeg, which feels especially pertinent with the booming redevelopment projects and the Jets' return:Winnipeg City of Survivors

A heartwarming tale about Winnipeg's Uncle Bob

Archie and Bob. The dummy's on the left. 

When I was a kid, there was no bigger star than Winnipeg children's entertainer "Uncle Bob."

Uncle Bob and his dummy "Archie Wood" hosted Archie and His Friends, a locally produced daily kids' show that ran from the 60s to the 80s on CTV. "The friends" were Tammy True (Archie in a wig), Grandpa Wood (ditto) and sock puppets Petite the dog and Marvin Mouse (some of whom now reside at the Manitoba Museum).

Also featured prominently: the good children of Winnipeg, who Bob would call on their birthday live from the show. I recall playing in the sandbox on my fifth or sixth birthday, when mom called me: "Kenton - Uncle Bob's on the phone!"

The conversation:

Uncle Bob: Happy birthday, Kenton.

Kenton: Uh-huh.

Uncle Bob: What are you up to?

Kenton: Sand.

Even better, Uncle Bob had a cottage in Sandy Hook, where I'd go visit my friend from time to time. We'd hop on bikes and drive past the place, which had an Elmer the Safety Elephant flag flying in the front yard. If we were lucky, we'd see Uncle Bob mowing the lawn.

On one occasion, my friend's brother even got to go boating with his dad and Uncle Bob himself. Once on the boat, the kid couldn't contain his enthusiasm:

Kid: Uncle Bob! Tell me about Archie Wood. Does he live in your house? Would he like to be my friend? Is he friends with Tammy True? Where's Marvin Mouse?

At this point, Bob had had a lifetime of kids asking him these questions. Plus, he'd been consuming some "tasty beverages."

Uncle Bob: Be quiet kid - and pass me a brown one.

The kid shut up, reached into the cooler, and passed Uncle Bob a beer - his dreams dashed, but with a larger lesson about the importance of consuming adult beverages and telling kids to shut their pie-holes imprinted forever on his mind. Elmer would be proud.

The Greatest Story Ever Told (in a community newspaper)

The humanity! And that's just the sentence structure.

This awesome article is from a Canadian community newspaper, which shall remain nameless. Paragraph breaks are mine. We can blame the writer for everything else:

"God Picks No Favorites is what comes to mind when you see the damage done to the First United Church on 3rd. Ave. N.W.

"Saturday nights winds left approximately Forty to Fifty thousand dollars damage to the Church which houses many memories for the people that accompany it.

"Upon walking inside the church the first thing you see is 1/2 of the North wall lying on whats left of the Floor. The area where the choir stands as well as the Priest was destroyed from the falling brick, also causing damage to the basement below.

"Nobody new about the damage until Sunday mourning and luckily there was no-body inside the Church at the time.

"By luck the Organ which is situated against the centre of the inside north wall received only a scratch while everything around it was crushed. There is also considerable damage to the south wall from the wind. The large front window will have to be rebuilt due to it being pushed and bent from the large gusts of wind.

"One person at the church was commented as saying that the damage in one word was shocking. It would be safe to say that the public should stay well away from the North and South wall of the church since there is still chance of more bricks to fall.

"Sunday service will now be held in the large Auditorium for now and if anyone may have any other questions concerning services you may call (number)."

Lessons learned: No poseurs at the fishing derby

Can we keep him, dad?

Give a kid a fish, and you'll feed him for a day. Teach the kid how to fish, and he'll starve to death.

When I was a kid, I went to Lockport on a fishing trip with my friend Richard and his dad.

None of us was much of a fisherman, but Richard's family was fresh off the boat from England and eager to experience Canada. So: off we went.

Richard and I spent the better part of the day standing at the side of the river, fishing rods in hand, waiting for a fish to bite. Behind us, Richard's dad - in a frock coat and deerstalker - paced back and forth, smoking a pipe and saying nothing.

Finally, at the end of the day, a big, dead fish came floating by, and Richard was ecstatic.

"Dad - we could pull the fish out of the water, and tell mom that we caught him. Can we do it dad?"

Richard's dad stopped pacing, carefully considered the request, and proclaimed, "There will be no pretension!"

He continued pacing behind us, as the sun set and our stomachs growled. 

Announcing Indie Game: the Sequel, starring me

I'm ready for my close-up.

If you thought that Indie Game: the Movie was awesome, you won't want to miss Indie Game: The Sequel, starring me.

Here's a short clip of the action; the full-length movie is exactly the same, except it runs for two hours and has a surprise ending where I wake up and it was all a dream.

The film comes out this summer and is rated A - for being slightly less than Awesome.

The man, the dog, and the escort next door: just another New Year's Eve in Grand Forks

What's the catch?

You haven't enjoyed New Year's Eve until you've spent it in a cheap Grand Forks motor hotel with paper-thin walls.

I did some years ago, and it was magical. The plan was to head down to the U.S. with my then-girlfriend, do some shopping, go to a happenin' bar, and call it a New Year.

Instead, there was a blizzard, the stores and bars closed, and we spent the entire weekend in a miserable, little hotel room, listening to our next-door neighbor and his dog.

Sample overheard conversation:

Dog: Bark, bark bark!
Man: Stop your barking!
Dog: Bark, bark, bark!
Man: Get back in your house.
Dog: Whimper. 

On New Year's Eve, there was a knock at our neighbor's door. We pressed our ear to the wall to learn that our neighbor had ordered up his very own Grand Forks escort. They agreed on a price.

Man: "I'll get ready. Be right back."

Sound of the neighbor's bathroom door opening and closing. Quiet, followed by the sound of the door re-opening.

"Well, what do you think?" asked the man, now wearing...we could only imagine.
"Lookin' good, dude!" responded the escort, mustering all of the phony enthusiasm she possibly could after what was probably a long, long day of answering the same question in countless other hotel rooms. 

The dog continued to bark.

Fearing a sound-picture we would never forget, we left our room and waited in the hotel lobby long enough to come up with a moral to the story: maybe dog isn't man's best friend.

Update: Jan. 14 - Looks like North Dakota took my story to heart

All the best and worst to you and yours from '11

Best stuff I found under my house (below)

Best TV show
Game of Thrones or Downton Abbey, depending on whether I feel like sword-fighting or knitting.

Most welcome return to the small screen
Beavis and Butthead

Best TV show on which to play catch-up on DVD/download
Modern Family

Best news app
Zite - the magazine that gets smarter each time you read it.


Best design-fetish app
Fancy

Most-promising new app
Jildy - organizes Facebook the way Facebook can't do it itself.

Best photo app
Instagram (sorry, Liz Hover)

Best social add-on to traditional media app
GetGlue

Most promising game app/trend
Shadow Cities - Adding a virtual game atop your reality

Best "What have I done with my life?" moment
Summly app is created by a 16-year-old. 

Best book
The Idea Writers by Teresa Iezzi - the present and future of advertising.

Best new friend (below)
The sunshine that shines on my throw rug and creates a concerned face that sometimes gives me advice.

Best movie
Bill Cunningham New York

Best superhero movie
X-Men: First Class

Funniest superhero
Thor

Best first-half of a superhero movie
Captain America - better as a wimp than a hero.

Best album
PJ Harvey - Let England Shake

Best song
Anna Calvi - Desire

Best sign (below)

 

Best restaurant
Segovia

Best bar 
The Grove

Best menu item at a bar
The Yellow Dog's steak sandwich

Best beer
Hoegaarden

Best wine
Vinaguarena

Worst new local-TV trend 

Morning show traffic coverage, starting at 6 a.m. In Winnipeg? 

Worst ongoing local-TV trend 

Awkward banter 

Second-best sign (below)

 

Scariest robot (below)

Going the way of the newspaper

The physical classroom

Best way to reboot education
General Assembly
Lynda 
Stanford free classes 
Edutopia

Best class debate
Do ghosts exist?

Best student
You

Worst service
Pharma Plus, Corydon


Best service
Friendly and helpful Starbucks drive-through window staff at the Taylor location. 

Friendliest robot (below) The giveaway: the pet cat.

Best nemeses
The Man
Anonymous commenters
Parking-meter readers
YouTube

Endangered species
Sarcasm
Irony
Concentration
Listening

Best job trend
Starting your own business instead of workin' for the man.


Worst job trend (below)
Confidential company seeks anonymous employee for unstated salary.

Best PR
Obama kills Osama

Worst PR
Netflix changes its business model

Worst journalism
Rupert Murdoch




Best console game
Portal 2 for Xbox

Best podcast
Joe Rogan

  

Best Halloween costume - student (below)

Most worthwhile learning curve
Facebook Pages/ads

Scariest social media to lawyers and other people who know nothing about it
Facebook

Best sign that someone knows nothing about Twitter
"I don't care what Ashton had for breakfast."


Social-media trend that needs to go
QR codes

Best social-media meets national-TV moment
My Facebook comment gets a shout-on on NBC Nightly News as part of its Steve Jobs TV coverage.

Best Halloween costume - teacher dresses as casket to show the students where there education and careers will eventually lead them.

Best new Christmas tradition - A snifter of balls at the Style Council.

Best live stand-up - Marc Maron at the Chicago Mayne Stage

Best Twitter buzz
The day I tweeted that I found this at The Forks:

  
Greatest return - Dancing Gabe and whatever that team he cheers for is called.

Best toy trend (below) - Disrespect meets obscenity

Worst logo
The Winnipeg Jets, 2011

Best logo
The Winnipeg Jets, 1973 to 1990






Best TV ad
Volkswagen


Best print ad
Benetton

Worst urinal ad
Government of Canada's use of the color yellow and the word "tool" to sell its apprenticeship grants. He said, "Tool." Huh-huh, huh-huh.

Best imitation of myself

When is "something new" not?

Red? Something new!

Never mind the Sex Pistols, here's something new!

When I was a kid growing up on the mean streets of white, middle-class, Protestant suburbia, there was a magical time that came but once a year.

I could only be talking about "Charleswood in Motion Days," which had something to do with getting people out of their homes and outside together to play games of chance and introduce cotton candy and tiny donuts to their already shaky metabolisms.

At night, we'd wash it all down at the beer garden, where we'd be treated to some of the greatest bands that Charleswood had to offer. Which is to say: they sucked.

One year, the emcee offered the crowd a glimmer of hope. 

"Are you guys ready for something new?" he shouted from the stage. Desperate, we took the bait.

"Yeah!" we yelled.

"Ladies and gentlemen - here's something new!"

The band ran out and the lead singer said, "Hi everyone. We're something new!" and launched into a lame Suffragette City cover.

Which is when we realized that Something New wasn't something new - it was the name of the band. And we'd seen them play the identical set the previous year.

"Boo!" we yelled. "We want something new!"

"Thank you," said the lead singer.

The following year, we formed our own band called Nothing Special. We opened for Something New.

All hail the king and queen of CreCommedy Night '11

Hi Ho Cherry-O! Brea Perrelli tears up the room. 

Snort. 

CreCommedy Night '11 at Rumor's was a raging success this year, as 28 of Red River College's funniest and bravest students took to the stage to perform stand-up comedy for the first time.

That was my cue to look into the camera with a serious face and say, "Funny." 

Special thanks to Cara Lytwyn who tore up the room as our host and emcee, to all of the CreComm grads and friends who stopped by to watch and judge the big show, and to Rumor's for allowing us to crash the place.

People's choice awards

Our panel of 10 judges has spoken and selected these comics as our top five of the night: 

1. Dylan Hughes

2. Mike Tanasychuk

3. Adam Campbell

4. Brea Perrelli

5. Andrew Parker. 

Pale, gangly, specter Dylan Hughes.

Forgive my snorts and guffaws into the camera. I know it's bad. I'm working on it. Snort.

Well done all. Incidentally, the point spread is less than six marks out of 20, from highest to lowest. A squeaker that attests to the quality of the show.

A DVD of the evening's festivities will be available shortly. Watch this blog for more details. 

See you next year.

Extras! Extras! Sign up for Garrity's new feature film

Garrity at RRC earlier today.

Looking for some "extra" work?

Look no further: filmmaker Sean Garrity is looking for extras to appear in his new feature film, My Awkward Sexual Adventure. For the record: it's a romantic comedy.

For more information, send your name, phone number, and email address to: nextcasting@shaw.ca with the subject line: "volunteer extra for Garrity film."

You'll be notified if and when the crew needs extras.

CreCommedy Night hits Rumor's on Nov. 7

 Telling some jokes, just like Gilbert Gottfried did. 

The heart pounds, the palms sweat, the knees knock. You gasp for air. Finally, you walk toward the light.

Death is easy, stand-up comedy is hard.

But you don't have to tell that to Red River College's funniest Creative Communications students, who will be making their stand-up comedy debut at CreCommedy Night on Monday, Nov. 7 at Rumor's.

The big night features 28 of my comedy writing students doing three minutes of material each, bookended by host Cara Lytwyn and headliner Dan Verville, two successful comedy-writing grads in their own right.

Doors open at 7 p.m., show starts at 8 p.m. Tickets cost $10 and will be available at the door and in advance (info TBA).

A splendid time is guaranteed for all. 

Sex. Now that I got your attention, vote for me!

Forget the change we can believe in - I just need a candidate I can notice.

It used to be said that we should vote with our feet or our money, but in the ADD culture that is our world today, should the person who can earn our attention also earn our vote?

Wait a sec - shiny penny! Where was I again?

For me, the politician who broke through my perceptual screens this time - no easy task - is the one who:

• started following me on Twitter. 

• showed up at my doorstep - with some former CreComm students in tow. 

• responded to my tweet - from a social!

In advertising, this is what's known as "frequency." They say you need a frequency of three to remember an ad, and maybe it's the same to remember a politician and his or her message. 

For your incredible ability to crack through my perceptual screens, Mr. Politician, I salute you - and award you my full and undivided...oooh, the season premiere of Dexter!

Sorry, what was I saying?

Toad trip takes teach to treasure trove o' toys

Hey, other schools: sucks to be you!

Today, my first-year advertising class and I went to Toad Hall Toys in the Exchange District, so students could learn more about the place in preparation of writing their first ads for a real-life client.

OK, it was also to have fun and play with toys. So sue me.

Visiting Toad Hall Toys is one of the great experiences in the Exchange District and life; the class arrived together shortly after 11 a.m., and I staggered out alone just before noon with $65 worth of toys, books, and candy.

What happened over the course of that hour is now a hazy blur of sugar and fizz; were it not for these photos I found on my iPhone, the entire experience might be lost to history:

O Souperman.

Publish or perish? Try publish and pig out!

Being dwarfed by puppets beats being puppeted by dwarves.

Dear diary. Excuse me - where was I, diary?

You should never wind up a monkey.

You should never wind up a student.

Squirrel Nut Zippers?

No, Geppetto. There is another.

I'm sorry, I can't hear you - there's a banana in my ear.

Do these taste like fish on porpoise?

Gotta roll.

Snakes on a plane? Try spiders on a bus.

A few months ago, I found myself sitting behind Little Miss Muffet on a Winnipeg Transit bus.

I knew it was her, because she was wearing a sleeveless summer shirt, sensible shoes, and a big, black spider on the back of her neck.

No kidding. 

I looked a bit closer to make sure it wasn't a tattoo - it wasn't - and I weighed my options. Should I: 

• Brush it off;
• Blow on it;
• Squish it with my hand;
• Hit it with something;
• Tell her;
• Wait and see;
• Do absolutely nothing?

Having touched strangers' necks in the past and regretted it, I settled on just telling her, which seemed like a decent middle-ground thing to do. 

"Excuse me, young lass," I said, "but there appears to be a spider on your neck."

She sprung into the middle of the aisle, jumped up and down, screamed "Jesus Christ!" and flung the poor bastard across the bus. He never knew what hit him.

She dropped back onto her tuffet and hyperventilated.

I got off the bus, and as it pulled away, I whispered, "And she didn't even get a chance to thank me."