Mentioning the
unmentionables
by Robert LaFrance
I remember the days when the subject
of women’s underwear wasn’t talked about in mixed company, but those days are
gone the way of the Passenger Pigeon and the Great Auk.
Walking past one of Perth-Andover’s
giant malls last Wednesday, I stopped to look at some merchandise when two
women of my acquaintance came strolling by. “Yes, I have to buy the rayon
uplift bras now because of – well, you know why – and I like the panties made
of Chilean llama or alpaca fibre because they’re so comfortable and soft on my
bum.”
The other woman, whom we’ll call
Glenas since that’s her name, agreed in part but not completely. “I don’t know.
Rayon kind of irritates my nipples on hot days but I do like the Chilean fabrics,
especially the panty hose except when I get goose bumps on cooler days.”
Was my blush showing? I grew up in a
time when the word ‘panties’ was enough to make strong men leave the scene,
unless the woman talking about panties was suggesting some sort of liaison, as
Grampy might have said: “out behind a stump”.
Anyway, mentioning the unmentionable
has become less scary over the years because of frequent use so now I can
actually go to town and not pass out from embarrassment. However, yesterday’s
incident at a local takeout made it difficult. One woman was shouting to
another clear across the parking lot about the brand of panties and bra she
should be able to buy at a certain clothing store. When that conversation was
finished, everyone knew, along with knowing how good the french fries were,
what were the best and brightest underwear.
*****************
I know I rail on about potholes and
bad roads that, to be fair, are in the minority, but at last I have some good
news. One of Victoria County’s roads has received an award.
The so-called Fort Road, or Highway
190 west of Andover, was voted by drivers last week to be the most annoying
road in western Victoria County. The Carlingford based Committee for Pothole
Sanity has been looking for the Minister of Transportation in order to pin a
medal on him or her, but that official has so far managed to elude capture.
Driving west from Columbus Street on
the Fort Road, one is amazed at the extent of almost impassable road he comes
across, especially as far as the point where the eastbound Trans Canada Highway
exit meets Fort Road. This is made even worse because the TCH overpass creates
a great big shadow in which potholes and other lethal areas can hide and wait
for unsuspecting drivers.
I am sure that sooner or later Edval
Susinence, the president of the Committee for Pothole Sanity, will catch up
with the government minister in charge of road fiascos and this paper will
print the ensuing photo of the presentation. On the other hand, if DTI were to
fix that holey road, the committee may be persuaded to keep their trophy.
ADDENDUM: This columnist has just
received word from a government source that the road in question may never be
fixed because the province has applied to have that section of highway named an
Historical Site so that it would be illegal to change anything.
We will recall how the Andover
Courthouse received such a designation and no government employee was ever
again allowed in the building. We have to respect our history even if it
results in broken tire rod ends, struts, ball joints and springs.
******************
As I look out from my easy chair on
the porch, I see what seems like dozens of pickup trucks with trailers going by
every day. They are each going on a dangerous mission – collecting firewood for
the upcoming cooler season we refer to as winter.
Every morning and afternoon – until
the temperature gets unbearable – my porch is surrounded by the roar of
chainsaw and 4-wheelers that collect the stovewood after the intrepid woodsmen
have sawn down the trees and cut them into 16-inch pieces.
Then comes a phenomenon that I am
always impressed by: quite often the big powerful trucks are empty but are
hauling trailers crammed to the gills with wood. I couldn’t figure this out
until one day Glenn Flannery stopped when he saw he standing near my garage and
explained.
“Nobody wants to scratch up his
truck,” said Glenn. “That’s why we buy trailers. Who cares of they get
scratched? I didn’t pay $64,000 for my heavy-duty truck just so it gets all
scratched up.”
I knew there to be a good reason.
*******************
Watching a TV show last week, I heard
the word ‘enema’ which I thought was a thing of the past, but I guess medical
folks still use that particular tool.
Always thinking about the old days, I
remember when my brother, sister and I were growing up we got our share of that
procedure. Our mother was a retired Registered Nurse but still practised a bit
of her profession after she moved to Tilley about 1938. She would bind wounds, set
broken bones and treat illnesses of local residents but most of her medical
work involved giving enemas to people, especially us kids, who even hinted
they/we were constipated. It was a scary time. We weren’t a bit afraid of
Russian intercontinental ballistic missiles, but when mother said maybe we
needed an enema we scattered.
One
day I suggested that she could be called ‘The Enema of the People’ but said it
too loudly and mother thought I must be constipated.-end-
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