happy feat...

I am poor at keeping this space updated, but I have another new niece! Hannah was born to my sister Amanda and her husband Paul, 5 days after my other niece.

She is awesome and hilarious and still trying to figure out how her face works (as evidenced in the photo - she's not actually crying).

The other thing I wanted to put out there is that I live on the top floor of a 29 storey building. I just came back from a run and I managed to climb every single stair up to my apartment. .... Thought it deserved a mention, though it's nowhere close to the accomplishment of having a baby!

Cas

aunts go marching...

I have a niece! Me, and my 4 other sisters are all officially aunts. Finally!

Coming from such a large family, and being one of the youngest, I thought being the cool, young, hip aunt was a done deal. I figured I would start my reign at the top at 17 or 18, max....as it turns out...Not so much.

At first I felt dismay, followed by desperation, then resignation, that I had less and less hope of being the cool, young aunt I always wanted to be. However, last Christmas both my brother and his wife, and my sister and her husband announced impending August due dates within a week of each other! Lo and Behold, after much shower-throwing, tiny outfit buying, and belly rubbing, the first of the two - Addison Ward - arrived on Tuesday afternoon!

Two of my sisters and I were lucky enough to go to Hamilton with my parents and see Addison at just a few hours old...I have to admit my bias, but I think she's pretty cute!
Now, I am headed home for the weekend - hopeful for the arrival of the second surprise...looking forward to "he" or "she" instead of "it".

I feel this double blessing - this beautiful familial expansion - can only be some sort of concession to the fact that I am not as young, cool, or hip an aunt as I anticipated I would be...but c'mon - "favourite" is still in the bag :)

Cas

for dummies...

Today on the subway home from work, I saw a man reading a book.

This in and of itself is no big shocker. Many people read many books on the subway to and from work - it helps them from having to stare around awkwardly at the other people, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Even more so, during rush hour, it keeps those people smart enough to bury their nose in a book from burying their nose in someone's armpit or even worse (depending on whether they are sitting or standing.)

What struck me as particularly interesting was the book that the man I saw, was reading. It was one of those "...For Dummies" volumes, and I was caught off-guard at how millennial and specific said books are getting. He was reading: "Online Identity Theft Prevention For Dummies."

It made me wonder just how ridiculous these books are on their way to becoming. Not to say they aren't helpful for the Average Joe or Jody (whom I consider myself to be in a plethora of areas), or that preventing oneself from online identity theft isn't a valid precaution in today's wired world... but how far are we from trying to write books helping people do things that "dummies" really shouldn't be attempting?

"Space Exploration For Dummies"

"Building Your Own Rocket-Car For Dummies"

"The Dummy's Guide to Nuclear Physics"

I'm interested to know what kinds of crazy 'Dummy' books you've seen, or what other kinds of crazy titles you think we're headed towards....

Thoughts?


Cas

Creative License

The other day I mentioned that it was recently my birthday. Kudos to my little brother for finally getting on the well-wishes train, or so it may seem. Here is a homemade card I found lying on my pillow when I arrived home last weekend.

SAD DEATHDAY (with a picture of a tombstone)

Luke,

Have a terrible time w/ this take.
You're forgiven for this card being too early.

Hate,

Matt

PS. if you couldn't tell, this card was in code.
A little code I call opposites. Dare you to decipher it.

PSS. I was inspired b/c all I had was a black marker.
Figure it out. Creative eh?

My favourite part might be "A little code I call opposites." or his accidental spelling of PSS instead of PPS. This was followed by a later phone conversation, in which I thanked the scribe. It went a little something like this...

Me: Hey Luke, thanks for the card. I thought it was hilarious.

Luke: No problem, did you get it?

Me: Yes, it wasn't too tough.

Luke: Did Mom tell you how?

Me: No, I got it on my own.

Luke: Oh, well I needed to explain it to her. She didn't get it at all. Did you get that "take" meant "gift"?

Me: Yep, totally.

Luke: Oh... well pretty good eh?

I can't believe the high Binnington comedy, including so many family members. Thanks Luker.

What a guy, What... a... guy.

The (Still) Funnier Older Brother

the evolution of grocery haute couture...

This morning on my way to work, I noticed something. It came to my attention as I was sitting on the platform of track 1, waiting to catch the GO train that would sweep me back into the city after a wonderful weekend away.

No one carries anything to work/school in grocery bags anymore.

When I was young and 'too cool for school' as they say, I wouldn't take my lunch or gym shoes to school in anything less than a backpack/lunchbag combo. Bringing lunch in a plastic bag was asking to be relegated to the grouping of desks with the other Untouchables in the classroom caste system. I wasn't Miss Popularity by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn't about to lose that rung, somewhere in the middle of the social ladder, that I clung to...anywhere but down!

When highschool hit, almost without warning, lunchbags were out. A lunchbag signified everything that was inconsequential and juvenile in the world, and we were soooo much more than that. In acts of Avril-like rebellion we all embraced the grocery bag en masse, to signal our individuality - yes, the logic works like that. All of a sudden your turkey-on-rye and grannysmiths were being thrown around and manhandled inside the unpadded confines of the latest offerings from IGA, A&P, or Loblaws. "I sooooooo don't care what my food goes in, like, I just end up eating it anyway!"

University ushered in the age of the caf and other such waistline-expanding on-campus eateries. Grocery bags served primarily to schlep those extra few items you couldn't cram into your backpack at John's Deli back to your lopsided student house. After fulfilling this purpose, they were good for empties, trashcan liners, and tying up the tupperware you had to throw out b/c you couldn't remember what was in it anymore.

Now, in the working world, people have come full circle. Everyone has reverted to seventh grade, with richer taste. Instead of paper, canvas or (if you were lucky) some sort of Thermocool number, everyone is toting labels. At first glance this morning, it was just one man walking by with his briefcase and an Armani Exchange logo with handles swinging by his side....then a woman with a bag from Davids, and when I looked around it was almost everyone. On the train, in the subway, at the lights, everywhere I looked there were men and women with company names flying freely from elbows and hands; slung over shoulders and clipped to other bags.

This is the age at which carrying grocery bags becomes uncool all over again. People are watching to see where you'll put the spillover from your briefcase or purse. On one hand, I can see why people make the switch: the plastic is translucent at times; it's malleable and there is no hiding whatever it is you've got inside. Your secrets jab out at awkward angles. Whatever structure there is is lost when things get too heavy, and sometimes you need more than one to do the job....

...but on second thought, more so than wishing everyone luck in finding the right label to match their self-consciousness, I hope that we all become a little bit more like grocery-bag people...I have a feeling it would make carrying a lot of life's loads a little easier....


Cas

Our Bicentennial, and Thoughts About Grilled Cheese

Welcome to the Fiftieth Post for the first time ever in the history of this website and these two, ahem four, people. I only realized that the paragraph I had planned turns out to be an anniversary of sorts... I don't know what to do to celebrate. For my grandparents' Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary someone hired a professional human karaoke person (who knew that they exist?), and I don't imagine I'll ever experience belting out popular sixties tunes with several different generations of people again. On that note, I don't think singing and dancing wildly to Ain't She Sweet would be an appropriate reaction to fifty instances of online writing, nor expounding publicly on the value placed on love and commitment by Noreen and Melville. (By accident, and only through the great gift of editing did I discover this, I had originally written exposing instead of expounding in that last sentence, that would have been an interesting family get together to say the least.)

I'll just write about what I originally intended...

I made grilled cheese today and pondered briefly on the fundamental ingredient missing in its title. I mean, the uninformed might be easily tricked into thinking grilled cheese was just cheese thrown on a grill for a little while to simmer, an understandable mistake. Only with the addition of two slices of bread does the product become one of the most delicious items known to man. Grilled cheese sandwich" or better yet "Cheese Between Two Slices of Bread and then Grilled" should now be the only means of describing this meal. I mean we don't ever call a pop tart toasted chocolate do we?

Do We...?

Matt

I Am One Year Closer to Death...

Hello out there, this lovely title is what my coworker proudly told me when he learned that I shared his womb-emergence day of May 30. Coming from a handlebar moustache sporting, lambchop sideburning, long curly hair wearing, hair metal rocking, drum playing, banger-mullet-loving, still in the 80s living, hilarious guy I can handle that. He hasn't really grown up much so I guess that means I don't have to either. Paul, I'm proud to share my day of birth with you, keep on rocking the free world.

Another person that causes me to periodically laugh out loud is my younger brother Luke. A perfect example of this was his strange behaviour last week following a friend's wedding. He loudly stated for anyone to hear that he really wanted to get married also, but I think this was only considering the potential for a huge party and not considering the tremendous amount of commitment afterwards. This coming from a kid who has past said that being in a relationship to him is the equivalent of being doomed; he didn't elaborate on this point and my lady, who was right there, took exception with a perfectly timed diss, joking of course. He also continued the previous night's reception festivities by taking them to the shower where he belted out several marriage tunes by the likes of Elton John, Kelly Clarkson, and Sam Cooke. However, not being able to remember all the words he printed off lyrics and stuck them to the walls of the shower using moisture. He was in the shower for a twenty five minute concert. You may be privileged enough soon to spot his writing on this very page, come the new school year.

Finally, a third person that makes me laugh is the both insightful and ridiculous Garry, aka Birddog. His blog has been added to the list on the right, which I've meaning to do for awhile but COINCIDENTALLY waited until he gave me some mad props. I promise.

Matt Out