Steve's Blog: December 2007

Toys of Christmas Past

I wonder if the toys we buy our kids will seem this weird in 30 years...

Hugo the Man of a Thousand Faces

Just as creepy looking as I remember but, the assorted beards. mustaches, and fake lacerations are great for sticking on your cooperative younger sister. You don't want to wake up in the middle of the night with Hugo staring you in the face.

Sucker-Man
Perfect for leaving little suction cup marks all over the walls and ceiling. Extra points for the creepy name! I'll always remember the shriek of terror from Mom as he was thrown out the window onto the hood of the car. I also remember waiting for Dad to get home and unstick him from the ceiling.

Tobor the Robot
A remote controlled robot. Although I suspect the remote was actually just a loud clicker. It didn't matter because I never could get him to pick up his stupid suit case.

The Tao of Roy?

When I eat dinner at the hotel bar, I intentionally pick a seat as far away from everyone else as possible. When someone sits next to me despite my best attempts at scowling, I know they're trouble. Enter Roy from Nova Scotia. "F*#!ing Tampa Bay, ayy?" was his introduction. I thought that Canadian people ending every sentence with "ayy" was a stereotype but, apparently, it's true. Roy, on his fifth shot of something, sells guns for the NRA, served time in prison for armed robbery (although he was 18 when he transgressed so, all is forgiven) and insists on calling the gentleman next to me "Johnny" even though he clearly said his name was Sean. Roy likes us because we "look understanding". Mind you, I don't know Sean, he just had the misfortune of sitting the appropriate two seats away. By, the way, let me transgress and explain that unless you are on a date, bar stools are like urinals: it's every other one until there are none left, then and only then can you position yourself immediately next to someone and you better just look straight ahead and not make any conversation. Back to Roy. His tale of driving 140 Kilometers per hour is lost on me but, I can't seem to make him understand that I don't speak metric. It was just something they used to threaten us in the third grade (you better learn how many liters are in a deciliter because we're switching soon!). For all I know 140 Kilometers per hour may be near the sound barrier. What I do know is that I've never been so happy to hear the words "I need to head out for a smoke, ayy" in my life. Johnny and I exchanged a knowing glance, paid our bills, and got the heck outta there. Tomorrow, I think I'll try room service.

Oh Canada

If you ever visit Canada and they ask you what kind of business you're in the country for, "writing software" is apparently the wrong answer. I knew I should have said "monkey." The polite customs official scribbled all over my form and drew what appeared to be two giant "X"s on it with a pink highlighter (pink must have some special significance). He then handed it back to me wordlessly and I proceeded on. Then another guard looked at my form and, noticing the pink "X"s informed me that I would need to report to immigration. "But everyone else went that way," I protested. She simply pointed. Head held low I walked to a large stop sign reading "STOP! Wait here until you are called!" and I waited until I was called. Then the questioning began. "Who do you work for?" "What are you doing in Canada?" "Who is number 1?" and finally, "Do you have a permit?" A permit, no one said anything about a permit. We got a permit for that swing set we put up in the yard last year, I wonder if that's what he means. I had visions of myself standing in the Canadian Abu Ghraib, a polite, pasty woman pointing at me and giving the thumbs up as someone snaps a photograph. I'd become one of those unfortunate souls who disappears into America's neighbor to the north every year never to be heard from again. Just tell my family I love them. Lucky for me it's only a one week engagement which, puts me under the permit radar. With a stern warning of "Tell you're company they'll need a permit and it's $150.00 Canadian!" I was sent on my way to enjoy all that lovely Toronto has to offer. Now if I could only figure out how far 5 Kilometers is. Damn metric system.

Kudos to Lisa Madigan

Go figure that an Illinois Attorney General would take action when Fisher-Price and the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission wouldn't. She led an independent investigation that led to Fisher-Price pulling a toy from store shelves in Illinois due to (what else) lead. As for the rest of the U.S., you're on your own. Lisa Madigan has my vote. Read the whole story at Consumer Reports.