Going Home

Well our daughter is home. She had been away at a 2 week General Training Camp at CFB Trenton as part of her Royal Canadian Air Cadet training. Friday evening the family converged on Trenton to watch her graduation parade. I drove up with the boy and my wife drove down from her parents (she was there visiting). We positioned ourselves around the parade square to watch the festivities. We saw many cadets "gingerly" walking around - obviously due to an abundance of blisters from two weeks of "drill" training.

During the march past we caught a glimpse of our daughter (there was over 500 cadets graduating), she looked great (in comparison to some of the other cadets from her squadron). She was tanned and looking fit but obviously a little tired.

The graduation went well, however; darkness soon fell and it was hard to see the ceremonial honor guard demonstration. But the muzzle flashes were awesome. They did their routine to music provided by the RCAC summer band. Excellent job by both groups. The graduation ended about 9:30pm, I said goodbye to my wife and boy. They were driving back home (about 3.5 hours - ETA about 1:00am) because my wife had to work in the morning.

Off to my room, my x-wife's husband was an officer in charge of the senior camps, he got me a room at the on base accomodations called the Yukon Lodge. Yes it's bizarre, but if even a small percentage of family break ups ended like mine did, there wouldn't be as much issue with society these days especially around child issues.

Any way, the plan was to pick up my daughter in the morning. give her the evening to say, "good bye" to new friends, party it up. Within an hour or so of getting back to my room I got a call from my daughter, she was crying, "come get me, I don't want to stay." My first thought was "post traumatic stress syndrome" - PSD. She was only away for 2 weeks! I got dressed and headed down to the camp area. When she saw me she actually ran over and initiated a hug. I am usually the one doing that, especially when I drop her off at school. She explains, "all my friends are leaving tonight, I am the only person that is going to be in my barracks." So off we go, to fill out some papers, have her confiscated items returned (aerosol bug repellant - all of the kids had one thing or another confiscated).

She is free, we walk back to my car and head the 2Km back to my room. She was in heaven, a car ride, it was the 2Km ride she would march 6 times a day back and forth to the mess hall. In the room she grabbed my iphone and updated her Facebook page with 8 pages of new friends (that was 8 school notebook pages of new friends). She had a hot shower without wearing flip flops for fear of athletes foot and she slept in a bed and not a bunk. Maybe if all of the kids that are out there, seamingly content in their entitlement (my daughter has no illusion that she is entitled to anything but it was nice to see the joy she received from just some of the basic services we take for granted) spent 2 weeks at Cadet Camp, the world would be a better place.

OMG - next morning - up at 6:40am, I told her we could sleep in. Nope - she didn't want to miss breakfast. We marched our 80 yards to the mess hall. Ate and then bussed our trays. I was going to put it in the rack about half way up. "No", she said. "Start at the bottom." As we left she saw the halo of light eminating from the mess hall restrooms. I read the sign, "No cadets on summer training permitted to enter." She states, "I am using this restroom, I am no longer on summer training." Ah, my girl - marking her territory.

The trip home - used my iphone to simultaneously have 15 text message comversations, sleeping most of the time while drooling on my phone (she had it on her shoulder since I forgot my headphones) while listening to "HER" music on either my iPhone or the car radio.

Glad she is back. When does school start again?

As an aside, she was very eager to show me her camp report card and to show me the certificate she received stating that her and the rest of her barracks won the - "Most Orderly Barracks" award.

Arrr! I am now a pirate.

For those of you following my tweets and Facebook status updates the last couple weeks, you may have been confused by a number of my entries referring to pirates. Well you see, since Bear died 2 months ago, I have been very much missing him. I have been looking for just the right tribute to his life. My wife and I have been searching for just the right headstone for our back yard when we inturn him later this month. So I decided to get his portrait tattooed on my left thigh. My theory is that "man's best friend" always sits to your left. So Bear will now, always be at my side.

The reference to pirates extends from my theory that only pirates and sailors should be allowed to have tattoos. As for women, our indigenous people of northern Canada tattoo their chins. So obviously a female getting tattooed secretly wants to be an eskimo, or sailor or pirate. But we know the later isn't a good idea because of the superstition of having a female on a boat. Usually a Kraken comes and swallows it up. At least that is what Disney taught me.

So for the last few weeks I have been studying up for my pirates exam and at the end I got my pirates license a beautiful piece done by Bob Paulin, owner of Studio123 in St. Catharines, ON. I celebrated with Mr. Christie Pirate cookies and rum.

For those of you that said I would cry - it tickled except around the knee when Bob was working over where my common peroneal nerve is available for striking. Those of you that take a real martial art (not MMA) should know were that is. Did I strike a "nerve" with that comment.

WOW Stuff

Speaking of Eskimo women, one of our guildies was lamenting a few months ago that he wanted to make a guild of just paladins. Now I am sure this isn't something new, a group of 12 year olds probably already beat us to the punch. We laughed it off in Mumble (really try this it is good), but the other night we were bored (the guildie that suggested it was on vacation and wasn't there) and decided we were going to start toons on a new realm, from scratch and form a new guild of just Dwarf Paladins. The realm we chose was Shu'Halo (NA) and the guild we created is called, "Seal Cub Clubbers Club". In case you haven't figured out the connection from Eskimo women to WOW it is - Seal Cubs.

Now we are having fun running around as just dwarf paladins, but I am sure we will have to have a talk about other classes as well if we decide to run any of the big boy content when we get to that stage. However; I think we will limit the races to dwarves (so whichever classes are associated with dwarves), from there we may have to extend it to other vertically challenged races (gnomes).

I have never played a dwarf - so I am seeing their content for the first time. You can actually see more of the content. Following behind a Tauren is a bitch - even totally panned out.

Anyway, off to help my daughter pack for her 2 week basic training course in Trenton (she is in Air Cadets). Before she goes, I think we will practise a bit of our baton stuff. Just in case she needs to throw a beating into an unruly male cadet while she is away.

ARRR!

WOW - and not the MMORPG

It has been a couple of weeks since I last wrote an article, and I did plan to actually write it a couple days ago, however; I had to wait the couple of extra days to allow my eyes to heal. Now before you start sending me emails to find out where you can send flowers, my eye injury is more of a figurative statement than a physical injury.

You see, I went to our local Ribfest on Saturday. Every town tries to have one of these events. They get a park, load it up with tractor trailer sized BBQ'ing units, a band shell (with questionable talent), and some of the worst dressed patrons - then tell the world how wonderful it is in City X - come on down for a great time, with probably less than 2% going to charity. Ours is hosted by a charitable organization, I would love to see the bookkeeping for this event.

The thing is, I am not writing this to complain about the whole charity event thing. I am writing this to discuss the people watching that one can do at these events.

The title of my article - "WOW - and not the MMORPG" speaks volumes towards what my eyes had to go through while at this even. All I wanted was to spend my $20 and get me a box of ribs. Little did I know I would be shelling out big bucks on cornea transplant surgery and counselling in the future.

Here is a summary of what my eyes saw:

1. The guy with the pink plastic cowboy hat. Now, if he thinks he can rock a pink hat that is fine (he couldn't). But his girlfriend in tow - what was she thinking? She should have warned him that he looked like and idiot.
   
2. Picture this. Thigh high leather boots, micro mini skirt, white tank top with ample cleavage bouncing off her knees everytime she took a step. Your eyes burning? Yeah she had to be pushing 65.
3. Itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini - on the very large boned woman with no sarong. Where did her bottoms go?
4. and finally a general statement - Where was FACS? Some of these teenagers - WOW - Some of them should have their parents arrested for what they were wearing.

There was many other sights worth mentioning. However; my head was swivelling so fast I couldn't take mental notes fast enough. There was a lot of neurological overload.

That is it, just a short one. Having to relive those sights in the recesses of my mind is becoming too much.

Have a good one.