Apr 07

Is My Brain Showing? Part 2

(from Steemit)
As you may remember, when we left our hero, he was signing some waivers saying that he refused ambulatory care because there was no fucking way he was going to spend the weekend in Youngstown.

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(How I picture a weekend in Youngstown)

Actually, it was Hubbard, but who ever heard of Hubbard, Ohio, except people from near Hubbard, Ohio.

Anyhow, it didn’t have anything to do with the town, as a long-haul trucker I didn’t get paid if the wheels aren’t turning. Also, there was the newly acquired head wound that I needed to get stitched up, but as any Canadian can tell you, you don’t go to a hospital in the US if you don’t have health insurance.

So my dilemma was that I had to get the load secured and back to Canada, where I wouldn’t have to pay to go to emergency. I figured that St. Catherines would be easier to get to with the truck than Niagara Falls, so this was my plan.

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The warehouse guy came out and helped me chain down the rest of the load and I whipped over to the truck stop to weigh my axles.

They were out by a bit.

So I had to go back and get the load shifted ahead. By the time I got back to the truck stop, it was late afternoon and my head was pounding pretty bad. I also had to change my dressing and I was feeling really tired, so I thought I might grab a nap before heading north.

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(I thought they just left their dead and wounded.)

I should back up a bit and mention that throughout this time I was in contact with my boss who was urging me to go to the hospital and use his credit card. While I was screwing around he sent another driver that was passing through near me to stop in and see how bad I was.

He showed up in the truck stop washroom while I was trying to change my bandages.

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(It wasn’t this bloody, but close)

He said that Rudy was worried about me and asked if I needed help with the dressing. I said that I would really appreciate that as it is hard to work in the mirror.

He said that Rudy thought he could take me to the hospital and that he understood why after seeing my head. I guess the flap had crusted up pretty badly. He had the credit card and had already unhooked his trailer, so off we went to the hospital.

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(It wasn’t quite this dramatic.)

When we got there we had to cross a picket line because the hospital was on strike. I wasn’t too worried about it until I saw the sign that said something about scab labor and my wound festering or something like that. Thanks, that’s fucking helpful.

When we got inside there was a lady doing the admitting, a pretty nurse, and a doctor from England. I guess they were the scabs. Oh well, lucky for me they were there.

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(I sure do love pixabay.com)

When the doctor saw me, he was a little perturbed that I had waited ten hours to come in. I guess there was a bit of rust or dirt still in there and he had to cut away some of the edges that were no good, but he got it stitched up. While he was stitching me up he asked where I was from.

I told him and he stopped what he was doing and asked me what the hell was with people in Canada. I said I didn’t know what he meant and he explained that since he had been there he had met three Canadians before me. One was the nurse, one was an elderly man that had been in a car accident and broke his leg and just wanted a splint put on it. Then there was a teenaged boy that was in a hockey tournament that had his eye socket fractured in the game that just wanted to get back to the arena for the last game. He said, “What do you guys think, you’re made of steel or something?”

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(Come on, these pictures are cute.)

I said, “No, what we’re not made of is money, and if we can make it four more hours we won’t be spending thousands of dollars here.”

He said that he thought I did this at work and when I replied that I had, he told me that it was all covered by worker’s compensation. I asked how much it would have cost and he figured about US$1200. Just to keep this face pretty.

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(Like how I used red to give it that real wound look?)

All in all, it was an above average run. Oddly not the worst one I had ever been on, but definitely not the best. The way I look at it is that I saved the company $1200 by getting hurt on the job and I didn’t even get a raise.

P.S. While I was looking around I found this at http://fox8.com/2017/07/29/hubbard-ohio-factory-owner-says-she-has-jobs-but-few-sober-applicants/

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If he’s going to MAGA, he should get the fuck to work.

Apr 04

Is My Brain Showing? Part 1

(This was previously posted on Steemit, but I figured I could start posting things from there on here. I own it, right?)

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(I don’t know where she plans on injecting that love.)

I had to spend eight hours in a fucking first aid course today. It was torturous. This is the ninth time I’ve taken level one first aid and that makes me sad, but you need to have it if you want to work. As far as first aid courses go, this one wasn’t too bad, and I met a cool, old feller in there and he only lives a few minutes from me, so hopefully I get a chance to hang out with him sometime. He’s over 70 and still working full-time, but thinks he might retire and work closer to home. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s not called retiring when you just switch employers.

While I was on https://pixabay.com/ looking for free first aid photos, I noticed some that seemed oddly out of place or just funny. Like this one and basically the rest of the ones I will post here.
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(I wonder if this one shows up under WWE as well.)

Back to the story.

When the instructor told us about how you were supposed to act in a calm, reassuring manner when someone comes to you with a first aid emergency, I was reminded of a story from when I was in/near Youngstown Ohio in the late 90s.

You see, I was a long-haul trucker and was sent to this steel mill to pick up these huge rings that were going to some sort of wood product mill in Quebec to replace some roller type thing. They loaded them on me and I had to chain it down and go to a nearby truck stop to make sure the load was positioned properly, weight-wise.

I had a snipe that was bent a bit and I was having a hard time getting the boomer(bear trap) to snap, so I got the bent snipe out and did something I knew better than to do, but it was Friday and if I didn’t get the load weighed and positioned properly I would be sitting there until Monday.

For those of you that don’t know what I’m talking about with the securement, watch this video for the first couple of minutes. A snipe is a cheater bar and the thing he’s putting it on is a bear trap/boomer/binder.

When I decided to get on top of the snipe and put my entire weight on it, it spun and snapped back into my face.

Pretty hard.
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( I knew Miss Piggy was going snap one day.)

When I woke up, I was laying on the concrete floor of the warehouse beside my glasses and ball cap with the newly dented peak.

I scrambled to get up and when I bent over to pick up my stuff, blood started drippingpouring out onto the floor. I took notice and, with my body hunched a bit to keep from bleeding on myself, slowly made my way towards the part of the building that people were in.

When I got a bit closer to the main door, an employee saw me and started walking towards me. I asked him where the first aid was and he said he was a first aider and started stepping up his pace. I lifted my head up and when he looked at my head he got this freaked out look on his face and he started to turn away while yelling something like, but not limited to, “Oh my God, holy fuck. Your fucking head, man. Oh shit. Fuck.”
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(This must be the Playboy mansion first aid attendant)

And then he was gone

Now I was getting scared. I picked up my pace and started to worry about when my adrenaline ran out and I succumbed to my severe head trauma. Very soon a heavier set man was running toward me and pulling on some rubber gloves. The shithead first aider was in tow with a first aid bag in his hands.

I started screaming as soon as I saw the gloves. It went something like this: “I’M AFRAID TO TOUCH MY HEAD! PLEASE HELP ME. I THINK MY BRAINS ARE COMING OUT OF MY SKULL.”
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(Doubles as an ice dance pic as well.)

He was trying to get me into a chair against a wall full of papers tacked to corkboard, but I wanted nothing to do with slowing down. I knew that was when you were fucked. The way buddy screamed and ran away from me told me that I was running on nothing but instinct and luck. If I stopped, I would bleed out and slowly fade away. Or something like that. I was in fucking shock, how do I know what things mean?

He said that he was a first aid attendant and he needed me to calm down, but his tweaker looking sidekick was just staring at me with this horrified look and cringing, so I did what any person would do.

I looked him right in the eye and yelled in my deepest, gravelly baritone voice, “IS MY BRAIN SHOWING?”
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(That’s what happens when you flip my Nana the bird.)

He said he couldn’t see it, but he would like to have a better look, so I sat down and he used his flashlight to look around. He said it looked like my skull had a fracture, but there was no brain showing.

While he was explaining things to me, I looked right at the other first aider and started yelling something about him being the worst medical person in the world and saying that if my head wasn’t split open I would beat him until he shit himself. He started to cry and then I stopped to collect myself and apologize, but he took off. Now the real first aid guy was looking at me disapprovingly and I apologized and told him what happened as he walked me to the first aid room to wash my wound out.
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(How would this even happen?)

I told him to relay my sorrow to the other guy, but to understand that he is not someone who should be in that role. He agreed and started to call an ambulance, but I stopped him in his tracks. I explained that I needed to get my load secured and weighed before I did anything, so he handed me some waivers to sign, bandaged the flap of skin up off of my right eyebrow, and gave me a bag full of gauze pads and tape.

I was free!
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There is a whole nother part of this, but I’m tired. I’ll get it up here soon.

Apr 23

Prayer is Actually Very Useful

 So I woke up this morning and there was a crazy message on my computer. I saw that a whole lot of people had left the chat and as I scrolled through, I read that an old friend from high school was in trouble and needed help. I also saw that in between leaving the conversation there were a lot of these before the person left the group.

At first I was pissed off, but then I realised how brilliant that is. I should never have denounced religion when I was old enough to think for myself, because…

It can get you out of social responsibilities!

I mean seriously, check it out:

“Hey man, we lost our jobs and got kicked out of our apartment. Is there anything you can do to help? I’ll pay you back as soon as we get back on our feet.”

I’ll pray that God finds someone else to help you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or:

“Hey, it’s actually been really hard this winter. I could sure use a friend right now. It’s to the point where I can hardly get out of bed in the morning, and I think my wife is going to leave me. Maybe we could grab a coffee and talk?”

I can’t because I have a thing, but I’ll pray that God gives you strength.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another one might go like:

I heard about your son’s accident. I’ll pray that God spares him any pain. Except for the pain he has already caused him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know that I’m being petty, and most people don’t know how to help, so they say that they will pray for the afflicted. That’s a nice sentiment, but how the fuck is it going to help?

Going by percentages, how many of your prayers get answered? If it’s more than 30% you aren’t praying for hard things like curing cancer or the Leafs winning the Stanley Cup.

Prayer is merely wishing, and if you actually believe that God has a plan for everything, then what are you praying for? If you don’t know how to help, ask. If they need money and you don’t have it, see if there is anything else you can do.I’m sure they understand being broke, because they are there as well.

Maybe you could pray that God gives you a shitload of money so you could lend them some, or you could go to your church and see if they can help out in any way. They probably won’t, because unless it’s a tithing member of said church, they usually don’t have a lot of use for poor people.

Relax!

I said “probably” and “usually”. I know that your church isn’t like the other churches. It stands for everything that Jesus stood for, and that is nothing but peace and love. Your church doesn’t even follow the Old Testament, that’s how progressive they are.

My point here isn’t that you should feel obligated to help. What I’m trying to get across is that instead of clicking the emoji for prayer, try typing  the words out and use the person’s name before leaving the conversation for greener pastures. Maybe that’s what they need is to know that you actually care. You could also just leave and get on with your life. You can’t help everyone, and maybe you just exhausted your resources. Whatever.

Better yet, start a conversation. That’s been a great help to a lot of people. Just knowing that you aren’t alone is sometimes enough to make something horrible seem a little more bearable. You’ll probably feel a lot better yourself.

Birdman

P.S.

You’ll get a lot more production out of this emoji

May 29

What’s Been Happening

birdmandesk

Well, let me tell you.

We did our second farmer’s market in Hudson’s Hope and it went very well, despite not having any way to get out of the hot sun. Some of the soap and my mind got a bit soft, but other than that it was a win. Looking forward to spending the money we made on a sun/rain shelter. Does anyone have any suggestions for one that’s at least 100 ft², relatively inexpensive, and easy to set up with one person? Throw a comment up if you do.

I wrote a post at Granola Light, and it was about my new mealworm farm. Since then, I have birthed one crippled beetle and probably 30 more pupae. I figured I had better get some larvae in the fridge, because I think 200+ beetles might overwhelm me in a short time. I think each beetle lays between 350 and 500 eggs, so the bins will be getting pretty full in a year. I’m hoping to sell them to local people, but in a town of about 1000, I think it would be a bit of overkill.

Unless I can find some of the protein crazy folks that eat the creepy little bastards in their smoothies. If I can get that fad going here, I will be in business.

I have also been hardcore working on the Dirty Bird Soap Empire website, whenever I get time. If you get a chance, check it out and let me know if I’m on the right track. We have an online store there, but there is no way to pay, so you can just look for now. I’m not sure how well online sales will go, but we are thinking of opening it up in the next few weeks to see how it all shakes out. Apparently this WooCommerce plugin is pretty simple to use, so I guess we will find out soon enough.

These are some of our beauties.

These are some of our beauties.

We also have a new FB page for the soap company, if you are so inclined. I don’t blame you if you aren’t. I just use it for the various pages and the local buy and sell. I unfollow everyone, because I find it distracting when there are people in my news feed, and all I want to do is sell/buy something or share a post on one of the pages. It’s nothing personal, but as most of you know, I swore off FB many moons ago, so at least I am acknowledging the problem. Unfortunately, I am a marketing whore and we all know that everyone is on there. If I thought I could sell something on G+, I would, but that’s not what it’s good for.

We have a bunch of new batches we are trying out, so if you are out and about in HH on Tuesday, stop by the farmer’s market and have a sniff. There are all kinds of great vendors there, and I will be selling some nightcrawlers as well. Soon we are hoping to get a local potter to make some fancy ass soap dishes for us to sell as well. If not, I guess we will have to branch out further in the province, because we need nice soap dishes too.

These actually look pretty simple to make. With the right wood and some tools.

My job is going really well, and I’m hoping I can get on steady one of these days. It is really the best job I’ve had in a very long time(ever), and for this period in my life, I don’t know how it could get better.(LottoMax)

Anyhow, I hope you freaks are enjoying your spring. We sure are. Take good care of yourselves.

Birdman

Mar 11

Hello, I’m Steve Podborski

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That’s what I said to my beautiful wife when I I got to the bottom of the hill on Saturday.

This hill.

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Trixie, don’t mess up Aaron’s nice grooming job, and don’t try to eat his lunch.

Without falling.

That’s Williston Lake, and off to the left is the W.A.C. Bennett Dam. They are both pretty huge. The shack at the bottom is the power shed for the tow.

This is our ski hill.

This is from the other side.

This is from the other side of The Dam Run. Pretty clever, huh.

When we moved here, we heard about the volunteer-run ski hill. There is all kinds of stuff to keep yourself occupied in the summer around here, but the winter can get pretty dreary, so we decided to go to the AGM for the ski hill and see if we could help out.

Turns out we could.

Hello, my name is Chris, and I'll be your handle on the bum specialist today.

Hello, my name is Chris, and I’ll be your handle on the bum specialist today.

I know I have mentioned before how much I love this town that we live in, but I feel like I have to sing it’s praises a bit more. I have never lived anywhere with such community spirit and involvement. It’s a place that you just want to help out in. I look around all the time at people putting their heart into projects that benefit the whole community, and it makes me proud and happy to be here.

It’s a lot of responsibility to ensure that your community has a safe, fun place to spend their wintry weekends, so we were glad to be able to help out the amazing group of people that were running this club so smoothly.

Then we didn’t get any snow, and we lost hope. Oh, and Jenny is leaving, so that makes us sad too.

This is the last part of the beginner hill.

This is the last part of the hill that we named Darryl’s Elbow. Get it? I guess I should mention that without Darryl, this would not be here. Any of it.

Then, last week it snowed, and there was much celebration. Darryl, Aaron, and I went up to see a few inches of new powder on the hill, so we tuned up the lift and got it ready to open for the weekend. I was finally going to get to do some work at the hill when it was running. It was pretty spectacular.

This made everything worth it.

This made everything worth it.

At one point, we had seven kids going up the lift at one time, and I nearly wept with happiness. I’m almost crying now as I think about it. It’s hard for me to explain, but I think that being around people that give so much of themselves to a remote community really wears off on me. It’s a pretty amazing feeling when you are around them, and it’s not just the ski club. The town is full of groups that are trying to make a better place for themselves, and for the kids. Hockey, rec badminton, Rod and Gun Club, Book clubs, The Friends of Hudson’s Hope, Curling, and figure skating are a few that come to mind, but there are many more.

That’s pretty phenomenal for a town of around 1000 people that’s an hour from anywhere. I think these folks all deserve a pat on the back and a round of applause for their efforts, because in the end they are what brought us here, and also who make it easy to stay.

Here are a few of them. Notice they don't pose for photos properly. That's because they make the rules, not follow them.

Here are a few of them. Notice they don’t pose for photos properly. That’s because they make the rules, not follow them.

Now back to the title of this post.

At the end of Saturday, I strapped on the first set of skis to touch my feet in twenty years. I took three trips down the hill, and I didn’t fall once. Gerri was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill and told me that I looked like a natural, Steve Podborski was who came to mind. I guess because he was quite relevant the last time I was skiing.

When I first learned to ski, at Camborne Ski Club in the early 80s, I absolutely loved it. It was a little bigger than this is now, but it had the same, small town feel to it. The quiet, electric tow at our hill is much smoother than Kent Harper running the old rope tow in Camborne, but there was a charm to an old vehicle chassis with a makeshift wheel running a huge rope loop up a hill, that you don’t get nowadays. What with all the safety BS that’s around. I remember that if you didn’t grab fast enough, you could easily wear a pair of ski gloves out in a weekend. If you don’t believe me, or even if you do, check out This blog post that I found while researching.

Anyhow, over the next few years, we got a family membership to the Oshawa Ski Club, but I lost my love after Camborne shut down. By the time I hit high school, smoking and drinking took the place of everything else I loved as a kid. Sometimes I blame my dad for making us go all of the time, but in the end I’m sure I would have fell out of love with skiing on my own. Just like I did with hockey.

I'm afraid to go down The Energizer, even though the hydro poles have pads. Maybe next time.

I’m afraid to go down The Energizer, even though the hydro poles have pads. Maybe next time.

I’m falling back in love with it. Thank you, Hudson’s Hope.

Maybe hockey is next year. If I can find some old skates at the thrift store.

Birdman

P.S. Jenny is still leaving, so we are still sad. Our hopes are that she will miss us so much that her heart forces her to come back. At gunpoint, if need be.