Safety First

I recently came across a video on Safety on one of the Social Media Sites, and while the antic  was quite entertaining to watch and no doubt fun to do,( Why wouldn't being strapped into a harness connected to the end of a huge back hoe and swung around like a limp rag back and forth NOT look like the fun it no doubt truly was?)  it struck a bit of a chord in my memories of a more innocent age, where 'fun was fun', 'if you could do it you should';  all under the umbrella of the motto, "Might as well give it a try."


I'm talking about putting your five year old child into a bucket of a D2 Caterpillar Tractor and lifting the bucket up to its full extension while giving her a ride around the yard for 5 minutes.   A thrilling experience as I recall and one which made any little ride at the local fair  in the future pale in comparison.

I'm talking about such times as allowing your children to ride in    the  expansive back  WINDOW  of the 1966 Ford Meteor as you drove across gravel roads to the nearest town five miles away, in the sun and in the heat; mainly because they slept so well there.

I'm talking about getting your child to 'test' the electric fence to see if it was working, be a marker in the field for the fly over crop sprayer,  and to sit on the top a  15' stack of bales piled on a wagon as it lumbered across the field towards the farmyard....along with getting her to help 'wash' tools in  a pail old diesel fuel.

I'm talking about expecting your child to skate on the frozen dugout  'around the water hole''; to only spray the DDT on the back legs of the cow as you are milking; and to  please wash  their feet in the cow trough before coming into the house after playing in the barnyard barefoot.

I'm talking about bringing home pink candied popcorn covered in Red Dye #4 for a treat and wondering 'what has gotten into those kids?'  

I'm talking about letting your child play with that silver stuff  from a broken fever thermometer for hours at  time...'kept them busy and quiet.' 
 
Yes, safety wasn't as big a concern as practically in  the child rearing days of long ago...there were no fancy child resistant medicine bottles, covers for electric plug ins, or much care given to baby crib safety...I recall my sister sleeping in the drawer of my parent's dresser whenever we would visit my grandparent's house.

Thank goodness society has taken the time to change some of the more dangerous practices that once were commonplace.



I suspect that probably for every male from the age of 13 to 89, the idea of Safe Sex  40 years ago meant a whole  different set of ideas than what it brings to mind nowadays.  Some of which probably involved  the  "Where....?", the "When....?" , and  the "How.....?".  (So that you wouldn't be discovered either by parents, spouse or neighbour --or God Have Mercy--  not by all at once; so you would still get home on time; and  so no one would get pregnant).

 All these questions would have to be safely answered before one even got as far as  the idea of ' With Whom'?

https://www.facebook.com/HooningFTW

A Time to Smile

 6:30 am.

It is a NEW day according to the clock and calendar.

 In fact it is so new that the sun isn't even up.  It is still actually pre -dawn where I live.  One can not see anything except the gray light of a nearly full moon muted by clouds and fog.

The house has that  pre-dawn chill that one only notices the moment one's feet hit the floor as one leaves the comfort of a warm bed.

 The news stories on the Internet have a very few 'new' items as the day itself is too new.. Although it is a bit odd that the obituary page has been updated for the day.  There are very few Social Media types monitoring their pages so early.

The day ahead seems like a smooth clean tablecloth spread out in anticipation for whatever will be laid upon it for the day's unique feast of choices, visions, and experiences;  mixed with moments of annoyance, humour and idle musings, seasoned with regrets and optimism whether the sun shines or the snow blows or the rain falls.


Soon enough the day will end, the sun will have fallen below the horizon once again and one will muse silently and sometimes verbosely  about the happenings of the previous twelve hours as they are  consciously and unconsciously stored away as memories.  Some moments will have been deemed to be tedious and repetitive, uninteresting, unimportant and even unsafe and will be buried away far from the conscious mind never to be reexamined or exhumed.

There will no doubt be something new to be learned, joy to be experienced, unhappy moments to be endured as this day progresses from the dark unknown to the full exposure of the noon day brightness whether the sun shines or not.

No, not every moment of today that is kept at the forefront will be worthy of note, worthy of memory, worthy of rumination to be repeated in an attempt to impress others in future conversation by accident or design, and that is ok too, because otherwise we might not be able to enjoy such things as:

The dog's day has already started as she barks at some unknown source of perceived threat in the bush. An example of the clock of the animal world being just a little bit ahead of  Saskatchewan Standard Time with little or no attention paid to Day Light Savings or to the WWVB Atomic Clock time signal transmitted from Colorado.

Without Prejudice

 Without Prejudice


I suspect that being a man, a guy, a male, a fellow, or a person of masculine characteristics in our North American culture can sometimes be a little isolating and somewhat sad.

In fact, when I look at some of the men, guys, fellows, and people of masculine characteristics that I have the had the privilege to call husband, relative, friend, or acquaintance, I know that the above statement is true.

I have personally seen some of these  people who are blessed with the XY chromosome  cope  with  mistreatment and  misunderstanding in various unhealthy ways.  Sometimes it is through anger, resentment, self medication with alcohol or drugs along with stoic silence  with regards to their feelings of disappointment, regret, or  resentment about being treated unfairly. 

Nothing really remarkable is in the above paragraphs--no new thoughts, nothing original, nothing that most people haven't noticed for themselves.

BUT--HOWEVER--LET ME ADD THIS----



Recently I have been privy to witness a slight veering away from the above direction that most men, guys, fellows, or persons of masculine characteristics have followed since the ideas of 'manliness' and 'machismo' were hatched by some, no doubt very troubled and clouded thinking individuals,  who believed that the  difference between men and women can be defined in the amount of tears that are shed,  along with  the amount of hair on one's face, size of one's breasts, and beer that one guzzles.



This veering away from this 'masculinity' of which  I write occurred  recently  when someone whom I shall henceforth refer to as M (for MALE) went to the local tire shop for a repair.  He was asked how work was going and he informed the questioner (a male) that he had been 'Let Go' from his place of employment.
  Following the repairs M,sat and had a cup of coffee with the owner and a few other  male customers who considered sitting  in a tire shop garage drinking java a wonderful and enlightening time in comparison to having to  deal with  snow, shovels, or machinery.


It was around this little round coffee stained pedestal table in a cement floor garage, that this veering from the macho man stereotype to which I have previously referred to occurred.

 One of the coffee drinking, mitt sitting, toque wearing, local area guys asked  how it came  to be that M had lost his job.

 As M proceeded to explain, he had the full attention of all three of the men at the table, plus the young man working in the little room at the back.  In fact, the telephone rang twice  during his dissertation but the owner didn't answer either time as he was too interested in hearing the story, and when he did answer the phone, he asked  M to stop  talking until he came back.   As he spoke, M , often heard comments that proved that he was being listened to...some  in  knowing agreement, some in surprise, and others with complete  and quick understanding of the situation.

 But mostly and more importantly, M  simply heard attentive and understanding silence. 


 M was listened to by his peers.  M was listened to by four people he did not know except to do business .  None of them were a relative, a professional, or anyone who would have a preconceived notion about the matter. None of those sitting at that little table was anyone who had to be on his 'side'. 

 In fact, I doubt if 'M' could name even one person of this non-judgmental and supportive group.


M left that little tire shop with a lighter heart and a better feeling  about himself , carrying with him a higher self-worth than he had when he first walked in. 


I have long thought that angels take on a varied array of characteristics, and this time, I believe,  they have dressed in greasy overalls, warm toques, and snowmobile boots.

The above article is merely the opinion of the author and is not intended to represent, replicate, or depict any real or vaguely imagined in any way, shape, or form, any enterprise , or company ; or to suggest  or hint that any privately owned business  in any small town in any province in any country of the World would actually act with malice and mean spiritedness to allow any hard working , honest, dependable individual to be insulted, sworn at, and physically threatened by other workers.