THE
BLUE BOX (Recycled Ideas)
by Don Cox
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It's that time again, the time when people get an uncontrollable
urge to send letters to their friends telling about the
events of the past twelve months. What have I learned so
far? George's girl friend in Samoa has a new feather dress,
Ian has two new grandchildren, Dave burned his finger on
a cutting torch, Charles has a new car and Jane has a newer
one, but with four-wheel drive. When I receive these messages
I rejoice, mourn, or move laterally as appropriate. Then
I ask myself, ought I to circulate a letter too? There is
so much folly in the world, should I add to it? Should I
add a few words of my own past year's experience? Well,
why not, no harm done, it's a vanishingly small verbal drop
in the vast pool of year end logorrhea.
I travelled a bit, but not widely during the year. There
were a couple of trips to Victoria and Vancouver, but this
hardly counts as news. Those places are so wet and bland
they need an earthquake to stir things up a bit In February
I went to Belize to visit my friend the witch doctor and
later in the spring I went to Newfoundland to see Beetle
Bailey. We were having fish and chips in the Avalon Mall
when he said, "Jeeze b'y, have ye noticed how time flies
when yer gettin' older eh?" Of course I pointed out to him
that the earth's rotation was slowing, and that actually
the days were getting longer. "Why's that, b'y" he wanted
to know. I explained it was a matter of conservation of
angular momentum and world population increase. More people
means more mass at the earth's surface, which means the
earth must slow down, which means longer days. Beetle thought
for a while. "People's leaving Newfoundland b'y" he said,
"less people, days're shorter here, just like I said."
The garden was a great success this year and I had a fine
crop of my grandpa beans. These are antique beans with old
genes which have been bred out of modern beans. When the
great bean blight of 2002 strikes, all modern beans will
succumb and I will have the world's only remaining blight
resistant beans. The world will beat a path to my gate.
I will engage my friend and financial mentor Art Hunter
to turn my beans into a global business opportunity. Within
one short decade all the beans left in the world will be
scions of my fortunate foresight, and will be green, stringy
and late maturing. I will be reasonably well off as a result
and Art will be incredibly rich. It's only fair, all I have
is foresight, decency, and a sense of responsibility to
mankind. Art has financial acumen.
This was the year I put a second layer on my roof and
had vented ridge caps installed. I can feel and see the
improvement already, no ice or snow build up and no need
to ventilate the crawl space. I'm looking forward to the
first substantial snowfall. I expect it will cling tenuously
to the roof by only the slightest thread of frost. I will
be able to go outdoors, look at it with disdain, clap my
hands twice, and it will all come roaring down in a mighty
avalanche. In the Rocky Mountains, I understand a cannon
is sometimes used to trigger dangerous avalanches. If the
weather calls for it, I am prepared to resort to this stratagem
myself, after all, I have the cannon and the technology
to use it.
I have one last memorable item to mention about our rapidly
disappearing year. Last January I decided to put black sunflower
seeds in my bird feeder instead of striped ones. In July
I went back to striped seed. These larger seeds are lighter
and a 50 pound bag has more volume. This means it lasts
longer since I only fill the feeder once a day. Not as much
nourishment in them perhaps, but so what? Let the little
bastards find more to eat on their own. I think this small
avian commentary well illustrates the typical information
content of a Christmas letter, if perhaps not the sentiment.
So let's leave it at that shall we? A Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Millennium to all.
Bluebox ©2001 Don Cox
Website ©2001 OttawaWEB
