1 April 2007


The lawn has had its first tending and the garden has been given a clean up for planting later in the spring. Sonja was pleased with my efforts. She said, "Why don't you go get yourself a bottle of scotch and pick me up some wine while you're at it." It looked like I was in for a lazy spring day.

When I returned from the liquor store Sonja met me at the door. "Before you open that bottle you think maybe you should clean up the garage? And look out for rats! I have never seen such a mess!" She says the same thing every spring when she peeks her beady eyes into my Cadillac's bedroom. In the winter the car shares its space with my empties, cardboard boxes, things Sonja has decided to throw out over the winter that are too big to fit in a garbage can and the many empty cans of Dr. Motor necessary to keep my wheels on the road.

If I did not do what Sonja tells me to do nothing would get done so I got to it. The scotch would have to wait. I went out into the garage with a bunch of blue bags, turned on the old radio and got to work. The premier's brother was talking on radio. He is one annoying motherfucker. He says I should not gamble with my money. He says I should invest it in real estate (today's advice was to buy a place which faces a golf course and backs onto the soon to be flooded river) and uranium stocks. The logic of Capitalism is more twisted than the rope they hung Saddam Hussein with. (i.e. If one form of pollution is bad for the Earth we will switch to a different one! Who the fuck looks up to these motherfucking wizards?) Fuck the premier's brother! He's an asshole! But I like listening to people like him when I am doing chores because I work harder when I am all riled up.

Pretty soon the blue bags were piling up outside the garage in an impressive mountain. And the cans and bottles had filled the Cadillac's trunk and its back seat. I was going to have to place the last few dozen in the front seat with me. In the garage I picked up another box of 24 cans. It was quite a bit heavier than the others. That is because it was full of beer! I cracked one open and guzzled it. I was happy as the Premier's brother would be if he could convince his crackpot brother to start building nuclear power plants to power our powerful marijuana industry.

As I was finishing up my chores and another cold beer Sonja yelled out the kitchen window to me. "Hunky Z and Kitty just called! They bought a new car! And they'll be over in an hour. You better get some cold ones after you cash in your empties."

I phoned the bottle depot before I left home and told them I was coming in with the proceeds of a baseball team's spring bottle drive. They put a reserved sign on the parking spot closest to the door. When I got there the old Chinese guy who runs the place smiled and said, "Why didn't you just say it was you Beer? I would've still reserved you the parking space." I walked out of the place with $72.10. Enough for three cases of beer.

The drive sparkled like good weed when Kitty and Hunky Z pulled off the street with a toot of their squeaky horn. All the talk about our planet warming faster than a brown bottle of beer in the summer sun takes none of the shine off a new car purchase. I told them both, "I'm surprized you don't already have a couple Canuck play-off flags hanging from the windows." After Hunky eyed my car, which has not shined since about 1980, he told me, "One day, if you ever stop playing the longshots, you'll have a new car again one day too Beer."

"And you do not even have to ask," said my sparkly eyed sister, "if we have broken in the car yet. We were smoking right behind a ghost car on the highway before we turned off into Steepleton."

It was too cold to admire their new ride for long. We went inside to watch hockey, drink beer and try out the bottle of Macallan's I had picked out. Shit is 58.5% and smoother than an Anne Murray greatest hits collection. "You don't know much Beer," said Hunky as he returned his empty glass to the table. "But you sure have an eye for good whisky. Pour me another motherfucker!"

No comments: