The first day of work
So what are you doing here? You're at work dammit, so get back to it. Seriously glad to have you here, but let me warn you there is little profundity in this post. A very choppy seasonal break left me without ambition or attitude. I did discover James McMurtry, a progressive singer of topical lyrics, check this out (look for the free download tab). A very different "God Bless America.
Forget the New Year's predictions from me how about some from you folks. How about your suggestions for the following categories:
Now for something completely different. When I want to idle the time away, and the internet is a perfect place for that, I quite often click on the button at the top of the Burdreport that is called "next blog" and am transported into the blogosphere. This blog was the one that made me think the most. I really don't know what to think of it except the writer must be a really creative idler. I wonder what he really thinks?
Forget the New Year's predictions from me how about some from you folks. How about your suggestions for the following categories:
- The big municipal issue for 2008
- next year's percentage tax increase
- Cobourg's emerging personalities, after all we have had enough of the usual suspects haven't we. Let's look for some new people to bring the issues to the fore.
- How long will the new guys last in the face of Council's rigid positions?
Now for something completely different. When I want to idle the time away, and the internet is a perfect place for that, I quite often click on the button at the top of the Burdreport that is called "next blog" and am transported into the blogosphere. This blog was the one that made me think the most. I really don't know what to think of it except the writer must be a really creative idler. I wonder what he really thinks?
2 comments:
For Cobourg's issue of the year, I predict it will be an outbreak of road rage against senior drivers who dawdle along, driving very slowly and carefully, causing those of us who have places to go and deadlines to get there to go absolutely beserk behind them.
Ever see the commercial for Gray Power Insurance where a woman is stuck behind another driver at an intersection screaming at the other to get going? The announcer soothingly intones that "you don't drive like her, why should you pay insurance like her?"
Well, I am on side with the woman yelling at the slow poke to hurry up. She shouts "what are you waiting for?" - a question I often have when stuck in traffic behind somebody who appears to have fallen asleep at the wheel.
While I hate to indulge in stereotyping, I have noticed that the oblivious drivers usually have grey hair or no hair at all, with the look of a hunted, scared animal.
Time for them to hang up the car keys and use public transit, or at least stay off the roads when they're busy. After all, there are worse things than not being the first one through the bank or grocery store doors at 9 am.
And that's my prediction for 2008.
I predict that spring will once again arrive in Cobourg. There will be an insurrection of grass and tulips to overthrow the regime of greytone winter.
I predict that children will play hey-look-what-I-can-do and suffer fleeting injuries. Breezes wait in the trees for unaware children.
I predict that Victoria Park will be the cradle of another summer of more first kisses, first drinks, first tokes, first . . .
I predict that Town Council will continue to be as unimaginative as a cinder block.
I predict that Cobourg's sewage disposal system will continue to expeditiously and discreetly process all the post-nutritive evidence of our personal consumption habits and unlawful substances.
I predict that lovers throughout Cobourg will continue to detonate in each other's embrace.
I predict that socialists will continue to whine about life's injustices and capitalists will continue to bemoan the high costs of justice.
I predict that Britney Spears will avoid visiting Cobourg like the plague.
I predict that fools will have far more fun than people who suffocate themselves with common sense. Common sense is just that -- common. So I invented the Peoples Republic of Poetry because it was governed by a House of Uncommons and informed by the Creative Intelligence Agency and Federal Bureau of Inspiration.
I predict that far more men than women will continue to commit suicide and that this gender imbalance will continue to arouse no concern.
I predict that women will continue to reap the rewards of Breast Cancer Month and men will have to do with a Prostate Day at best.
I predict that my hand will slide up the thigh of a beautiful intelligent woman who knows an epic poem from a one-night stanza.
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