Monday 3 October 2016

The Perfessor wet his pants (Sept 28)


DIARY

A major problem, all red and white

            by Robert LaFrance

            In my travels over the past months and years, I have come across things that have no explanation, like the sale of Canadian flags.
            I usually buy one or two a year because the wind up here on this mountain tends to rip them apart and the sun seems to enjoy fading them, so last week I found myself in a small store in Grand Falls.
            “We sent them all back early this month,” the clerk said, without any explanation. “People keep asking for them, but we don’t have them in the store after the middle of September.”
            Let’s go back and talk about the word ‘merchandizing’ or even ‘selling’. I always thought that those who have businesses should “give the people what they want” so if “people keep asking for them” wouldn’t it make sense to get some in?
            Long story short(er), two days later I found myself in a dollar store in Florenceville where there were a couple of dozen Canadian flags of various sizes. Apparently that store knew about merchandizing.
            Another thing that baffles me: why do people leave their vehicles running when they stop somewhere for five or ten minutes? I understand about air conditioners in the summer and I understand about big diesel trucks and the reasons those vehicles are left running, but what about Claude in his pickup with the “Drink Hardy” decals on the side? Does he think it will seize up if he turns it off?
            People are STILL being picky about the calendar date when the 21st century started and some people are still mentioning the well-known fact that each of us has only one birthday. Technically of course, our new century started Jan. 1, 2001 but it would have been like getting Christmas presents in February if we had waited that extra year. And should we all say to our cousin Phillip: “Happy Anniversary of your 60th birthday”? I think not. Happy birthday, Phillip.
            Here is a request to the thousands of people who phone here when I’m away and leave completely unintelligible messages: slow down and speak clearly. Last evening I arrived home to find the phone flashing a signal. The message was: “This is xmxmmmmsd talking from Plindter Rooof. Can you be at drwlqq at cttr o’clock tomorrow morning? Call me back and let me know would you? 2dd-9sx9.”
            Yeah, I’ll be there for sure, but first I have to stakfffjw.
                                    **************************
            Flug’s nephew Andre LeBlanc from just outside Nitchequon, Quebec, was visiting his old uncle last week and got to talking about the days when he was an active member of the FLQ (Front de Liberation de Quebec). “I used to laugh at the English guys at the weather station where I worked, when they would try to do nice things for us separatists. I called it French-mending,” he said, and added that one guy named Henderson actually had a hand in organizing the Quebec government’s hated (by the Anglophones) Bill 101 that has provided a lot of entertainment over the years.
            Flug has gone fishing about 2,000 times in his life and always followed the letter of the law. During all that time he never saw a forest ranger – or any other kind of ranger, lone or otherwise – while he was fishing. This year he thought September 16 was September 15 and went looking for the elusive and savage brook trout. Guess what? He’ll get out sometime in November, about the same time as an axe murderer who has served more than three months of his 20-year sentence. Flug asked the judge for “one a them  concurrent sentences” but that was a no-fly zone.
            Speaking of fishing, one day in July I was fishing with the Perfessor when he stepped behind a tree to perform #1. When he came out the whole front of his pants was  wet. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said sheepishly. I still haven’t found out what it was if it wasn’t what it looked like.
            From my list of strange expressions we use: “I am going to fill the car with gas.” If we think about that at all, we can only hope and pray that we are not about to fill the CAR with gas. Although I remember the time that Willie Dredge, who used to pump gas for Rusty Matheson in Andover, lost his focus when filling the judge’s Lincoln and poured a few gallons onto and into the back seat where the judge had a quarter of a deer he had just shot in Carlingford.
            Many people in the U.S. and Canada, especially in Victoria and southern Madawaska Counties in New Brunswick, hope Trump doesn’t get elected president of the great republic. If he does, Russia’s Putin will likely nuke all U.S. Air Force bases first thing. I hope he has his books up to date about Loring AFB, near Caribou, Maine. It closed in the 1990s.
                                               -end-

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