It's a Dry Cold. A Dry, Windy Cold.

Dear Weather and News Forecasters:

It was not -38 degrees Celsius in Regina this morning, nor was it -41in Saskatoon. The air temperatures were in the -20 to -30 degree C range. I checked several sources that measure air temperature. You are spreading misinformation and lies. Please stop it.

I know, I know - if I wait for the detailed discussion of the weather, you will, at some stage, acknowledge that although the air temperature is a balmy -23 C, the windchill effect makes you feel as though the temperature is -35. Invariably, and with more frequency, people are simply hearing the lowest "temperature" you broadcast, and, without fail, you loudly and boldly proclaim the artificial windchill "temperature" as if it is in fact the air temperature. You are feeding ignorance. I suppose we should expect this from people who make a living providing predictions, which, by most accounts, are consistently wrong. It's an interesting line of work.

Since the implementation of this new "equivalent temperature" treatment of windchill, which has only been in use for approximately 10 years, people take great daily pride in extolling daily winter "temperatures" that rarely reach above -25. I grow hot with rage recalling the number of recent occasions when work colleagues and elevator strangers declared to all present that "it's -53 out there - can you believe that?" No. I cannot, because it is a lie. It is -26, but it's breezy. As best as I can determine, the last time the actual recorded air temperature in Saskatchewan dipped below -50, was at Elrose in 2002, when a reading of -51.0 was recorded. However, if you listen to street talk, office noise and radio, it seems like -50 is a weekly occurence in January and February. In fact, the average daily maximum and minimum temperatures in Saskatoon in January are -12 and -22. That sounds pretty f*cking balmy compared to what I'm hearing.

Before the implementation of the current "equivalent temperature" treatment of windchill, the Canadian government used a relative measurement which factored in air temperature and wind speed to provide a scale indicating how quickly heat would be lost. You may recall windchill measurements like "1400", which was the threshold for frostbite to occur. Apparently, these measurements were confusing for people, because people are simple and they can only understand one-dimensional units of measurement. Of course, the index was an attempt to provide a comparative measure of compounded factors - temperature and wind. So one single unit of measure - ie. temperature - is not capable of providing a relevant measurement. Of course, mathematical impossibility has never stood in the way of human fiction.

In their wisdom, the U.S. and Canada agreed in 2001 to move to an "equivalent temperature" model, wherein they would use a series of formulas to arrive at a fictional temperature that is supposed to account for the cooling effect of wind speed. They just as easily could have chosen wind speed, and not temperature, as the single unit of measurement. Then your forecast would be as follows: "The wind is 5km/h today, but with the temperature at -18, it will feel like a true wind of 19km/h... so bundle up." That seems ridiculous. So should your fictional temperatures. But people love your fictional temperatures, because people love extreme weather. Too many people are taking odd pleasure in repeating the ridiculously low temperatures you report and it sickens me, mostly because the vast majority appear to actually believe the fictional temperature is, in fact, the real temperature.

Frankly, you don't know how I feel about certain wind speeds. If I'm facing away from the wind, it doesn't affect my temperature much at all. And -30 with no wind is still a very different sensation than -20 with a 17km/h wind, which Environment Canada tells us is equivalent to -30. In -30 and no wind, I'm not wearing a touque for a short walk - at -20 with a 17km/h wind, I'm wearing a damn touque. It's not the same f*cking thing. Give me the temperature, and give me the wind. I will cope accordingly, and you will refrain from spreading lies and misinformation. What about the sun. Haven't you ever felt the warmth of the sun on a clear, still -30 day? What about surface warming? Why don't you report that, "it's -30 outside, but with no wind and surface heating, it feels like -20"? If we're inventing temperatures, let's not do a half-ass job. Your profession is based on making consistently inaccurate predictions, and no one holds you accountable anyway.

And while we're on the subject, could you please tell all the ingrates from southern Ontario and the East Coast that there's no such thing as a "wet cold" and a "dry cold" in terms of winter temperatures on the prairies. Invariably, someone will advise that -20 in Saskatchewan isn't really that bad because it's a "dry cold". Of course it is. At -20, the air doesn't contain any moisture because it's physically impossible. In fact,, anywhere below 0 degrees, water is virtually non-existent in the air. See the chart below, which is based on physics, not feelings.



As such, I don't frankly care that some people "feel" that -4 in Toronto is colder than -4 in Saskatchewan because of the "dampness" - perhaps it's because Toronto is a cold, dark blackness of a settlement that smells of urine and is run by an addict. It doesn't give me warm feelings either. But -10 in Saskatchewan is colder and feels colder than - 4 in Toronto. At one time I had in my possession a copy of a study conducted by the Canadian Armed Forces which attempted to measure the "damp cold" effect. I have failed to find my copy of the study, so you will have to take my word (as we take your word respecting next Friday's weather) that the soldiers could not effectively distinguish between a damp cold and a dry cold at temperatures where it was even possible to alter the humidity level (see above chart respecting restrictions). Cold is cold, and people can't tell the difference.

And when we're dealing with important factors like, "will my vehicle start this morning", it depends on solely one thing: real air temperature. Your car doesn't care whether it's dry, wet or windy - it's simply a matter of temperature.

Now don't get me wrong on this. I'm not saying that wind has no effect on your body - it surely does. But wind doesn't change the air temperature, which is the only actual fact you have to report, in addition to the wind speed. I just take offence that you continue to report how I'm going to feel when I go outside as a fictional temperature. If weather is going to be based on feelings, why not just go all-in and report how you feel about the weather every day. Consider the wind, consider the sun, consider your coffee that morning and the quality of your date last night - and then just throw something out there... -12. Frankly, it's not going to be any less accurate than your forecast.

Frozen In Fictional Feelings,

DJD

My Deadbeat Friend Asked for an Update

My freind Adam worked for the provincial government. They had a program wherein Adam contributed a portion of his salary over time to some reserve fund or some junk and was then entitled to take a year leave with pay to do sweet bugger-all. In fact, his then date also committed to the same program with the province. As a result, they have been travelling the world for the past year without care or consequence. They actually got engaged in South Africa (presumably with a blood diamond).

A while back, nearing the end of our cold, hard winter, Adam inquired as to how I was doing. I provided the following reply. For a bit of context, our other friend recently bought a bar in Whitehorse, YT, we have another friend who runs a practice in rural Alberta, and on one occasion, I did stay in the worst condemned hotel that Whitehorse had to offer, which did result in a bloody injury from all the smashed glass littering the hallway. I lead a charmed life.

Dear Adam:

For starters, they changed the unlock code on the doors in our hallway today. You can imagine the confusion and disorientation that has resulted. I couldn't even tell you what the old code was - it was just a pattern etched in my muscle memory. And it's so hard to change. I've run my shoulder clean into the door at a high rate of force no fewer than four times today. Doors are hard, as is change.

As you may or may not know, I have two (2) children by the names of Hudson and Hugo, in order of birth from first to last. Hudson, whom I call Hudder, is a thoughtful, inquisitive but unsettled fellow who enjoys staying awake, not eating and sticking things in slots and holes. He also enjoys tractors, diggers, trucks, hockey and dancing. He recently discovered that the syringe we use to administer Advil will also extract his pee from the potty and once rendered him the most powerful boy with a pee-filled syringe. He also likes nipples. He is a curious fellow.

Hugo, whom I call Not (short for Huguenot - an ode to 16th century French protestants), is a very good looking baby who has recently acquired crawling as a form of transportation. He enjoys eating as much as I do, and boob. He has sprouted six teeth which he uses to eat ribs, pork chops and bacon between suckling at the teat. He has significant cellulite on his bum, perhaps as a result of his consumption. He also enjoys knocking things over and trying to eat my glasses.

My hope is that one day, after wallowing in the seas of uncertainty and introspection, my two boys will purchase a bar in Whitehorse, YT or a law practice in rural Alberta. I sure's hell hope they don't go to work for a mid-sized law firm in a mid-sized prairie city, because as far as I can tell, that's a one-way ticket to mediocrity, inflammation and a chronic shortage of funds.

I also have a wife named Maeghan who continues to look as if she's fostered no children. However, she doesn't currently earn any income beyond the standard EI benefits our system pays to mothers on leave. But our long hard winter with two gnomes drove her to such depths by the start of February, that she arranged to look at bigger houses with a realtor in such suburbs as Stonebridge and Rosewood and other such non-descript dirt holes. We quickly realized they were awful, and committed, instead, to spending the money we didn't have on finishing our basement. And like all good debtor-creditor lawyers do, I hired a contractor on a handshake and prayer. Two months over-time and about $8,000.00 over budget, we've got the funkiest f*cking basement this side of Taylor Street.... just in time for the out-of-doors season. Oh well. We'll have winter again. But seriously - my wife designed a cool f*cking basement. But there were some initial issues. The morning  after "opening" the basement, we found the bathroom vanity lying on the floor - it had fallen clean off the wall. They came and fixed that. Then, a few days later, the shelving and hanging rod in the closet collapsed and punched holes through the drywall. They came and fixed that too. I just hope the ceiling doesn't collapse. We got a really good deal though, so that's good. Written contracts are for sissies.

Anyway, the long and short is that we're poor in money, but rich in basements and guys. We also have the following items for sale, which might interest you: two bookshelves of middling quality but good condition, a Queen size box-spring and bed frame, a heavy-duty wall mount (with swivel) for a 40" to 52" television, a Technics keyboard from 1991 that my brother originally paid $1,200.00 for - it has a midi port which was kind of a big deal for 1991... it also has cool-ass sound effects. Should anyone be interested in these items, we'd be pleased to offer you a significant discount off the FMV.

But we've got lots of grandparents who love our children, so they help carry the load. I already fell asleep twice this week putting Hudder to bed - we're just so tired all the time. So it's nice when someone else takes our children - we do fun things, like nap and clean. It's odd though - Marcel was such an angry man for so many years, and now he does whatever his grandchildren ask of him and he just doesn't seem angry at all. Hudder regularly demands rides in the John Deere Tractor and I suspect Hudder is going to break the farm with the fuel consumption from driving in circles. And the escalating battles between the grandparents for grandchild satisfaction will, eventually, have disastrous results - Hudon's going to have his own Sherman tank by the time he's six (6). Papa Dubois will probably arrange for him to hunt a hobo at some stage.

Anyway, I'm pretty much the same as ever except less drunk, more tired and a little confused about everything. But it's fine I think. I do have a pretty good family and I have to say that having some little guys around is fascinating... they are weird creatures. I'm just so f*cking tired all the time. I just really want a nap.

But good work on the engagement... I mean, you might just as well, all things considered and whatnot. If you two are still generally enjoying each other's company at this stage, that's a pretty good sign. Maybe you could have a Whitehorse Wedding and we could all go up there. I know a shitty, haunted hotel up there that probably still has some of our blood in the carpet.

I've attached some photos for your reference.

1. Two guys.

2. A picture coloured by someone in our family.

3. The vanity that fell.

4. My water meter reading.

5. Jan (of our law class) and her dad at her dad's pant factory in Moose Jaw.*

If you have nothing to do between August and the new year, you are welcome to spend some time in our basement. It has a murphy bed, very soft carpet, a two-person steam shower and a projector for a TV. We could probably use a tenant with some money anyway.

Don't get arrested,

DJD

* Jan and I ran a full QB trial in Moose Jaw about a month ago. Her dad owns an honest-to-god pant factory. They make only men's pants and shorts for HBC, Mark's and other large retailers. Unlike Bangladesh factories, Canaday's Apparel has never collapsed nor burned. When we concluded our trial I bought some pants at a very deep discount. If you need pants, shoot me an email - I can hook you up. I even got a very nice pleated navy dress short.

Living the Dream: Watch My Damn Video

The thing about "fun" events in the business community is that they are usually borderline awful. The unworkable mix of age, ability and interests result in awkward displays of mediocrity from packs of soft people wearing ill-fitted and poorly-designed team shirts. Without fail, the most useless people in the office volunteer to head the effort because, frankly, they aren't doing anything else. And for those in charge of the office, the activity presents something semi-useful those twits can finally do. Everyone else is too busy to care anyway.

And of course the bribery begins when insufficient people sign-up  (and I made no grammatical error there - I actually meant "insufficient people"). So organizers assure people that they "don't need to be any good", that "it's just for fun" and that "we'll go for drinks after". So the unskilled, the lazy and the thirsty begrudgingly add their names to the list and await the delivery of their ill-conceived team shirts, too small, too big, too ugly - never just right. Do you want X-large, Large or Medium? Does it f***ing matter? Let the mediocrity begin.

Despite the aforementioned risks, our office entered a growing annual event called the Corporate Challenge for the second year. After last year's escapade, we realized that we are small in number, small in physical stature and small in football skills. As my former hockey coach once said, "Dubois! You're small, but you're slow!" 

However, we were giants on the stage at the WBM Talent Show, taking-home top prize for our cirque-themed performance art. And on the lawn bowling pitch, we also edged-out the competition. And we were spirited... although the competition administrators cheated-us of the spirit award, giving it to the company associated with the organizer's spouse. Apparently there was some Youtube statistic respecting video likes that showed a different number on the official competition computer, rather than the number that was displayed on all 26 of our computers. F*****s.

This year, in order to ensure that our office stands no possible chance of winning against the publicly-traded behemoths and multi-city-offices, the organizers removed the talent show from the competition. But they did leave us with one creative outlet - the pre-competition video and team picture. Of course, in their grand creativity, several offices put their people in T-shirts, huddled them together and made all sorts of novel and intriguing gestures, like the ol' thumbs up, number one, or pumped arm for a stunningly original photo. Nice. Other such luminary ideas included taking photos of people pretending to train for the competition, or arranging people in coloured shirts to form a word or logo. Also very original. Well played. No other team has done that yet, except for all of them.

But we don't do mediocre at our office. We have a mantra that's so kick-ass, I'm not permitted to share it publicly. And when we take-up a challenge, we approach it as the most singularly important matter to deal with at any given moment. We put our number-one associate in charge of our team, providing her with the budget and authority to get shit done. The Challenge became a fundamental and central focus of staff meetings, and people were appointed to their roles - this is not an occasion for half-assed volunteering. We study the challenges, we review the rules and we build our teams to win, matching people to the tasks for which they are most suited. We're not rich in people, but our people are rich in odd skills, and we will stretch them as far as necessary to reach for some wins. You know what's awful? Lame corporate events that purport to be fun. You know what's fun? Winning those events.

Anyway, when it came to a team name, a poster and a video, we developed a theme, because themes kick ass. And what kicks more ass than a straight-up assault? Assault literally includes ass kicking - we're lawyers, we know this kind of thing. And so, we give you ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WMCZ!

Please watch our video and "like" it on Youtube by clicking on the link below. Please don't watch other team's videos because: a) they aren't any good (we watched them once to ensure that they suck - and they do), and b) those teams will get points for your views.

My mother-in-law says that I should work in Hollywood. I agree. I think my family should sell all our things and move to a shitty two bedroom apartment on the outskirts of L.A. with a pool in the courtyard full of rotten leaves so I can write AMC's next smash series in a Starbucks on a Macbook. How about a remake of Airwolf? No one's done that yet, right?

But then again, my office is pretty f***ing deadly, so we'll probably just stay here. Please watch and like our video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNlgDPueIZY

Furthermore, please view our team photo on Facebook and like it.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=590717437636672&set=a.590717200970029.1073741826.254831144558638&type=1&theater

Open Letter to Klean Kanteen: Kan We Kall This Off?

Dear Klean Kanteen:

I thoroughly enjoy the whimsy of your K-laden name, and I appreciate that you had sufficient foresight to refrain from kalling yourself the Klean Kanteen Kompany.

On January 21, 2013, I ordered a series of spill-proof kaps from your website to retro-fit a series of bottles our toddlers drink from on a daily basis. Although the paint is peeling a little from a kouple of the bottles, they are sturdy, robust and aesthetically pleasing vessels - we appreciate them as objects of industrial design. I much prefer that our children drink from Klean Kanteens than from other unfortunately branded toddler kups, like Playtex. Although the Playtex kups seem to be reasonably functional and leak-free, I have difficulty in letting my toddler drink from a vessel named for a company that built its reputation in women's underwear and revolutionary feminine hygiene products. Surely Playtex kould have found a more appropriate name under which to market their drinking kups and soothers: perhaps "Tottex" or "PlayTot". As it turns out, Energizer Holdings actually owns Playtex Products LLC. I'd be much more inclined to have my guys drinking from Energizer kups than from Playtex ones. But as the world turns, we found Klean Kanteen and we haven't looked back.

We recently ordered new kaps through your website because we kould not find a Kanadian retailer who sold the new spill-proof kaps independently from the bottles - and we already had a supply of robust bottles. The shipping and handling on the kaps was a little steep at $23.25 when the total order was only $28.25, but the new kaps are soooo much better than your original caps that the kost was worth every nickel (we don't have Canadian pennies anymore).

Since our initial order in January, I have received no fewer than four emails per month advising of special deals on your Klean Kanteen kontainers. Thank you for your kontinuing efforts to keep me abreast of special deals on your various steel liquid kontainers. Please understand that our need for metal drinking kontainers is rather limited. I believe we have five of your Kid Kanteens, which are all fabulous, by-the-way, and I even treated myself to a large green bottle with a new sport top. So for now, I think we're good. We only transport so much liquid per day. And what with the promotional koffee kups and water bottles from various service providers and fun runs, our inventory of portable liquid kontainers is really quite saturated. Furthermore, most, if not all, the consumable liquids we have recently purchased from retailers have come pre-kontained in various forms of packaging that generally suffice. I have not accessed a bulk consumable liquid in a retail setting for some time, excepting for one particular situation which arises from time-to-time - which leads me to your steel Kup.

Although your steel pint kup for my favourite frosty on-tap beer is a novel endeavour, you are likely to find, if you spend some time in pubs, that most places will serve your beer with a reasonably klean glass drinking vessel, for free. Those glass kups are also re-usable and non-toxic, akin to your steel kup (although the toxicity of the contents will vary). The difference is that you won't have to carry around a filthy beer kup if you rely on the house kup. I just thought I'd raise the issue for your konsideration, as I worry about your kontinuing investment in the Kup.

And judging by the lasting quality of our kurrent Kanteens, I kan't foresee that we'll need replacements for a good seven to ten years, at which point we will probably just walk down to a local retailer in order to save your steep shipping and handling kosts. You really do make a quality product, and you have an exceptional retail presence. It was just your kaps that needed some improvement in design and distribution. And you nailed the design part.

Furthermore, I am unlikely to update my Klean Kanteen on-line profile so that you can "send (me) the most relevant info & discounts" respecting your Kanteens. Frankly, I'm a little perplexed at how you could narrow your info & discounts much further - you sell steel liquid kontainers. It seems that either I'm in your market or  I'm not. But then again, I have virtually no experience in steel drink kontainer sales or marketing. Anyway, I'm going to take the chance that I might be missing out on some extremely focussed and relevant info & discounts respecting your Kanteens. Thank you for offering though. I have also refrained from signing into your website, as I don't feel that I really need another user name and password to a website that I only intend to access once in seven to ten years.

Finally, I will not tweet your website, post it to Facebook, like your Facebook, Pin your site, or Instagram you. I really just wanted some replacement kaps. We are not friends, nor are we professional colleagues - we need not be Linked-in. I bought some stuff from you. That's where this relationship needs to end. You make a great product, you really do. And when my need arises for a steel drink kontainer, you're number one on my list. But I need you to move on now. I will be digging through the fine text of your wonderfully crafted e-flyer tonight to find the unsubscribe button. I'm sorry.

Your Karing Kustomer,

D. Dubois

A Strongly Worded Letter Re: Rogers Appreciates My Concern

This is another Strongly Worded Letter  from my archives. You see, my wife has an issue with phones - specifically keeping her phone safe from harm's way. If I recall correctly, her phone was somewhat damaged but still functional. She was getting close to the magical Canadian "handset upgrade" in her continuing contract of servitude to Rogers, the most sinister of Canadian telecom giants, so she was rightfully loathe to pay the entire purchase price of a new phone if a subsidized phone was on the horizon. I've never been a fan of Rogers, mostly because it has forsaken the bulk of Saskatchewan, serving only the richly populated domains of Regina and Saskatoon with any consistency. However, it was the only Canadian carrier with a GSM system when the iPhone came out (the necessary system for operating the original iPhone), and so my wife, in her urban Alberta glory, commenced her abusive relationship with Rogers, which continues to this day (mostly because of a subsequently melted iPhone, which I believe was addressed in my January 22, 2013 post).

Anyway, the sales staff at a Rogers outlet in the city advised her that she would be eligible for a new handset upgrade very shortly, and so she lumbered-on with her partially operational rig with the expectation that a shiny new handset would be delivered at a minimal cost in a few weeks. When replacement day came, she was told by staff at a Rogers outlet that they had "changed their policy" and she would not be eligible for an upgrade for another several months. Of course, she called Rogers customer service and they advised that she should go to the outlet from which she had just come. They advised that the appropriate manager who could deal with her was at a different outlet. That guy told her she needed to deal with Rogers customer service. And so went the Rogers Waltz. Everyone was powerless to do anything in the face of the omnipresent "policy". It was clearly time for everyone's favourite remedy, the Strongly Worded Letter.

I won't bore you with my initial letter, as it was simply an exhortation of the facts and frustrations my wife suffered in her attempt to exercise a reasonable request. However, the tripe that Rogers customer service replied with caused immediate rage in the deepest pit of my stomach. Below, I have pasted Rogers initial reply, my reply and then Rogers further response. As a disclaimer, I have no idea if any of the legal junk I cited has any application to the circumstance... but neither did they. It probably wasn't necessary given that their first response was so abysmal that it was laughable. Rogers "certainly appreciate(s) (my) concern". Although it's the ubiquitous first phrase in every customer service response, I'm not entirely sure how one actually "appreciates" someone's "concern". What is it about the concern that they appreciate? The length of the concern, the tone of the concern, or the way the concern was articulated? The phrase is on par with, "Don't take offence, but..."

If you are livid with your wireless provider, perhaps we should talk - I might be willing to run a test case on your behalf. Enjoy.

Subject: Re: Your Cellular General Inquiry  (KMM76614002I28642L0KM)

Dear Rogers Valued Subscriber,

Thank you for your email.

We can certainly appreciate your concern regarding this matter and apologize for any miscommunication that occured. At Rogers we value our existing customers as much as new customers. Please note that all policies are subject to change at any time; our hardware upgrade program received some changes recently which changed the eligibility to 30 months. Unfortunately we are unable to change this timeframe, therefore if you choose to upgrade before your 30 months eligibility date has elapsed you will be subject to an early upgrade fee.

If you have any further questions or concerns, we would as that you reply with your First and Last name.

This is to ensure that we protect your security and the confidentiality of your account.

Thank you for your use of our online customer service.

For future email correspondence with respect to this e-mail, please quote reference number 46888829

Regards,

Nicole L
Rogers Online Customer Support
http://www.rogers.com


Here's my reply:

Dear Nicole L.:

Reference # 46888829

Thank you for your prompt reply to my inquiry (reference 46888829). Although I appreciate your quick reply, I do not appreciate the hollow platitudes you delivered.  You provided no sense of actual appreciation of my "concern".  If you truly did "appreciate my concern", I anticipate you would have provided the contract information I requested in my correspondence. My sense is that you decidedly do not appreciate my "concern", judging by the off-hand manner in which it was dismissed. And I would not characterize my inquiry as a "concern" as much as a "request".  Entitling my request as a "concern" implies I carry a measure of anxiety and unhappiness that requires placating.  I was not seeking your appreciation of my concern. I was actually requesting that someone with appropriate decision making authority reviews my request, provides the information requested and issues a meaningful reply. In fact, I feel the rehearsed, hollow response you provided has actually caused me some concern. Although I anticipate you will probably want to appreciate my fresh concern, I would prefer if you could refrain from appreciating it and simply attend to, or have someone with appropriate authority attend to, my requests.

I am not convinced you value existing customers as much as new ones. If you did, you would provide the same opportunities to current customers as you do to new ones, and you would honour the representations and warranties made by your sales staff. Secondly, Rogers IS, in fact, able to alter the timeframe for a hardware upgrade -it CHOOSES not to do so. There is a substantial difference between the two, and you have implied that there is some anonymous, overbearing force which prevents Rogers from adjusting its policies.  Might I suggest the overbearing force preventing Rogers from accommodating me 

is.... Rogers?  You asked me to "note" that Rogers' policies are subject to change at any time - I have noted such.  Please note that I am asking for a change in the application of the policy in my circumstance.

It is not "unfortunate" that Rogers is outright refusing my request: fortune has little to do with this matter. My circumstance results from Rogers' intentional, flippant change in its policy, and the application of it. Suggesting the circumstance is "unfortunate" implies that a remedy is beyond the control of Rogers. I think it is unreasonable and unhelpful, but it is not unfortunate. The current climate of faceless, rehearsed customer service in North America is, indeed, quite unfortunate.

Although you have implied that this is a matter of "miscommunication", your sales staff represented that I would be eligible for a hardware upgrade two years into my contract, and I relied on that representation to enter into the contract.  Their communication was entirely clear. I furthered maintained my service with Rogers based on representations made by your sales staff that I would be eligible for an upgrade to an iPhone 4 two years into my contract.  Again, there was no miscommunication.  In accordance with Saskatchewan's Consumer Protection Act, specifically sections 6(g), (i), (j), (q) and (r), I suspect Rogers' failure to honour the representations made by your sales staff constitutes an Unfair Practice as defined by the Act. Despite the clauses in your written Terms & Conditions, my understanding is that oral representations that are not reflected in a written agreement are potentially enforceable under Consumer Protection legislation (see section 37 of the Act).  Furthermore, I view the sudden change in the Rogers "policy" respecting hardware upgrades as a change in the Terms of my contract, as warranted by your sales staff, of which I received no notice.  I also anticipate that the transaction between myself and Rogers, wherein the phone was purchased conditionally on a 3-year contract, may be subject to section 18 of The Limitation of  Civil Rights Act in Saskatchewan, in which case I may be entitled to simply return my current phone to Rogers and cease any further payments.

Could you please provide me with the following:

1)      copies of the 2009 Terms & Conditions and the 2009 Service Agreement that govern my relationship with Rogers;

2)      the date on which my current Service Agreement expires;

3)      the price of the Early Upgrade Fee referenced in your correspondence; and

4)      the current fees that Rogers would charge to terminate my contract, and an indication of the appropriate clause(s) in the 2009 Terms & Conditions, or 2009 Service Agreement as I have requested above.

I would like to further consider my options respecting my current circumstance with Rogers so that I might proceed in the most efficient fashion possible.  I am still open to accepting an upgrade to an iPhone 4 at a current promotional rate, because that is a reasonable resolution to this issue.  However, I am not prepared to accept Rogers' initial response to my inquiry and I intend to pursue a satisfactory resolution to the matter in the appropriate forum if Rogers is un willing to provide one. If you are unable to provide the information I have requested, please advise me promptly and forward my request to someone with appropriate authority to do address my request.  While Rogers attends to my request, I will seek someone in my immediate geography to help appreciate my concerns over a hot cup of tea. 

Yours truly,

Rogers Reply:

Subject: Re: Your Cellular General Inquiry  (KMM76654909I28642L0KM)

Ms. Dubois,

You have reached the Rogers Online Management Support Team.

First, I would like to apologize if your concerns have not been completely answered to your satisfaction so far and if the previous Customer Service representative’s email correspondence seemed somewhat disconcerting.  I am certain such was not the intent.

In answer to your inquiries, we can first confirm that we do not hold copies of wireless service agreements. However, such documentation can be found at the Rogers Plus outlet responsible for activating your wireless service on June 20th, 2009 under a 36-month wireless service agreement which is set to expire on June 20th, 2012.  Should a cancellation take place before the expiry date, $20 multiplied by the number of months remaining would be charged on a final statement of account following the cancellation of the account.  As of June 23rd, 2011, this amount would represent a total of $200 (plus taxes) based on 10 months remaining.

Finally, in light of the circumstances that bring us in communicating with each other, Rogers is willing to offer you an iPhone 4 (16 or 32 GB internal memory capacity) under the terms of a new 36-month wireless service agreement which would begin at the start of your account’s next billing cycle (July 21st). The subsidized pricing offered for this specific wireless device is as follows;

• iPhone 4 (16 GB) :    $159.00 plus $35 administration fees and
applicable taxes
• iPhone 4 (32 GB)    $269.00 plus $35 administration fees and applicable
taxes

Again, Ms. Dubois, I apologize for any inconvenience this issue may have caused and await your decision in response to this offer before moving forward on the account.

For future email correspondence with respect to this e-mail, please quote reference number 46888829.

Best regards,

Stéphane B.
Rogers On-line Management Support Team
http://www.rogers.com

A Strongly Worded Letter Re: Toddler on Potty

In an ongoing effort to advance the art of complaint, I have decided to post some of the Strongly Worded Letters that I have crafted in response to personal matters that have arisen. To be clear, NONE of the letters posted were in relation to my day-job as a sometimes-civil-litigator.

On May 30th of this year, my wife had an incident wherein she had our toddler out and about in Saskatoon's Broadway region on a day that she was attempting to potty train him. In her wisdom, she had taken the potty with her in case he had to go. And he did - on a sidewalk at the back of a Starbucks. Some canny observer snapped a photo of him sitting on his potty on the sidewalk and, in a gesture that signals the civil rot of our times, promptly forwarded the photo to local C95 radio host DJ Tanner (yes - that's actually the name with which he has anointed himself... presumably Uncle Jesse will have a sister show on Rawlco's 102 this fall), a catalyst in the civic rot, promptly posted the photo to the C95 Facebook page. The hits and comments began to rack up, and it was only brought to our attention by someone who texted my sister-in-law a half-hour after it had been posted asking if that was our guy and my wife in the photo. Indeed.

Our eldest toddler is an interesting fellow, and there is certainly some comic effect in a toddler sitting on a potty on a sunny sidewalk, reading a book (he likes to read). At some level I chuckled to myself. I also recognize there is some room to debate my wife's actions - should a toddler be going to the potty on a public sidewalk outside a coffee shop? Perhaps not, although the comment string under the photo appeared to condone her actions for the most part. Frankly, I suspect the number of adults urinating directly on the ground and buildings in the Broadway area on any given Friday night far eclipses the minor discord a singular toddler on a potty might cause to the region. I promptly sent an email to C95 and the photo disappeared as quickly as it was posted.

Of this whole affair, what perplexed and surprised me the most was the shear number of people following the C95 Facebook page - how did this photo rack-up hundreds of comments in a mere 30 minutes? That's what people are doing with their time? They're just waiting for something juicy to pop-up on C95? This was a week day, in the middle of the morning - aren't people doing work stuff? If people followed some legit journalistic sources as fervently as they follow C95, perhaps we'd be living in a more civil, informed society. To have the Saskatoon public weighing-in on my child's bathroom habits seems like disappointing waste of resources.

Regardless, I promptly put on my angry parent hat and sent the following letter to the General Manager of C95. She did call to apologize afterward, and she assured me that posting toddlers-on-potty's was contrary to the policies of Rawlco Radio, God bless 'em. However, she did not offer us any free concert tickets, which was unfortunate. If you think we deserve free concert tickets, at least some Dora the Explorer Musical tickets or something for our little guy who generated so much Facebook traffic for C95, please send an email on our behalf to the General Manager: kwerner@rawlco.com.

Here is the Strongly Worded Letter:

Dear Ms. Werner:

The world is often a whimsical place. I count myself among those who take some measure of joy in the unexpected oddities the world displays, and I suspect my colleagues would concur that I have a relatively deep sense of humour respecting most things in life. I have attached a photo of my child, a curious and odd two-year-old, that was recently posted by your host DJ Tanner to the C95 Facebook page. The attached is a PDF printout of the photo and some comments.

At first glance, I concur that there is something mildly comical about a toddler sitting on a potty on a sidewalk – you don’t expect to see that every day. If I came upon that scene myself, I suppose I might find it mildly amusing, and I might relay the odd occurrence to others in conversation. However, the photo was taken of my wife and child, without their knowledge or consent, and further posted to the publicly accessible, nigh, publicly promoted Facebook page of your sizable local media outlet.

To give you some pause for consideration, the back end of this story is that I have an able and dedicated wife, who was trying to get some exercise with her two small children, while assisting a reticent and timid two-year-old to learn to use the potty in a relatively discrete fashion. Whether my wife should have had my son on a potty on a sidewalk is, I suppose, open to question. But I’m not sure that a public figure posting a photo of my vulnerable two-year-old going to the bathroom on C95’s Facebook page is the appropriate way to incite debate over such an important public issue as toddlers on potties in public (the old TPP debate, which is truly of significant public importance). If DJ Tanner had an issue with my wife’s conduct, he could have taken the reasonable and civilized course of action and advised my wife he had concerns respecting her conduct. Instead, he approached the situation with the tact and acumen of a daft weasel, snapping a surreptitious photo to immediately display to the world for comment. Nice work DJ Tanner – you are truly a bastion of quality journalism. We generally try our best not to pursue humour through the public humiliation of a toddler in a vulnerable circumstance. Would he also like a photo of me urinating on the roadside during a long car trip, as I’d be pleased to provide it for immediate posting? Does he have a collection of child-on-potty photo’s he’d like to share?

To refrain from posting photos of children going to the bathroom on a major media website seems like a pretty easy standard to meet. Certainly, we did not find the public humiliation of our son to be terribly amusing.

I recognize that, in all likelihood, little damage resulted from what transpired because it appears the photo was removed about an hour after it was posted. However, my wife and I continue to feel a sense of outrage that our son, in a vulnerable state, was posted for the amusement of C95 followers. Secondly, I have concerns that your host, DJ Tanner, who has access to, apparently, several very public forums for giving birth to his grand ideas and concerns, saw fit to post a photo of a child going to the bathroom on your Facebook page. The fact that you removed the photo promptly (whether it was at my request, or of your own accord) suggests that you concur with our assessment of the circumstance. Perhaps C95 should consider whether DJ Tanner should have such ready access to C95’s electronic media.

I am uncertain as to what broadcast, telecommunication or other regulations or general laws such a post might violate, but on civilized standards, it was in poor taste. We kindly ask that you explain to us why DJ Tanner posted the photo, what his intentions were in doing so, and why the photo was removed. Secondly, we would appreciate some assurance that it is contrary to C95’s policy to post photos of children going to the bathroom (it sounds odd to even inquire of such a thing, as I suspect that posting public photos of children going to the bathroom might actually be illegal… nonetheless, some assurance would be nice) and that you will take measures to ensure it does not happen in the future. Frankly, it’s toilet humour that’s fit for the potty.

Angry Father and Concerned Citizen,

Seriously Tim's

I wasn't f*cking around Tim Hortons. I'm so very close to not buying a coffee this afternoon.

Tim Hortons is Mean

Dear Tim Hortons:

I just drank my 17th cup of your pedestrian coffee this Roll Up season. During this season's run, I have won precisely one doughnut. Your aesthetically challenged red and yellow cup advises me that I have a "1 in 6" chance of winning a "food prize". I like those odds (although I'm not terribly taken with your food, but I am taken with winning in all its forms). I figure that those odds, coupled with the additional prizes, like 40 Toyota Rav 4s, 100 $5,000 MasterCards, 1,000 Napolean Grills and 25,000 $100 Tim Cards, makes my odds of winning something pretty damn good. Yet, in 17 tries, I've won only one "food prize", if you can call a doughnut "food". My abysmal win record runs contrary to the odds you've advertised. Frankly, I'm growing a little discouraged. Are you running a Tim's Casino here, where the coffee house always wins? I know I only paid $1.75 for my half-litre vat of 18% cream topped with middling coffee, but I'm starting to get the feeling that your just f*cking with me.

To be clear, I'm not entirely sure I want another doughnut, or even a $100 Tim Card because how the hell am I going to spend $100 at one of your stores? At your ridiculously low coffee and food prices, I'd be mired in a world of beige-through-tan foodstuffs for a year: it would be awful. But once-in-a-while, your incessant advertising and omnipresent availability gives me hope that, after all these years, it's finally my time for my big win - like a Napolean Grill. Granted, I already have a natural gas grill that I would likely continue to use - it's pretty nice. But man - the feeling of finally winning something that's not made of bleached wheat flour and confectioners sugar - that's what I want. And can you imagine if I won the Toyota? Of course, the Rav 4 is near the bottom of my dream car rankings, or even my practically affordable car rankings... but maybe I could sell it at a steep discount and pay off a fraction of the ever-escalating cost of our basement development. More importantly, I would finally feel vindicated for all the years I've stomached your unpleasantly hot and repugnant brew on a thin vein of hope that my reward was nigh.

So be warned: I'm nearing the end of my rope. I'm only going to purchase one more coffee this morning... and maybe another this afternoon... and probably one on Thursday morning because I'm probably going to be working late on Wednesday night. But after that, and my Friday late morning coffee, if I don't get a reasonable win, I'm going to consider possibly not buying another coffee. I'm serious. I'll go right back to Starbucks in the middle of Roll Up season. Maybe... probably... if I can stomach over-roasted beans at inflated prices with no chance of winning anything... which I probably can't.

I hate you Tim Hortons. I hate you.

Faithfully Yours,

DJD

Nothing to be SAD about

InCivilitis: Nothingto be SAD About

It’s the beginning of March, and shit’s not funny. The darkest months of winter are technically behind us, but the tropical dampness of our requisite hot vacations are even further behind – a distant memory that seems more like foggy a tryst you imagined during a 2:00pm sugar low. All that remains from the tropical vacation is a nagging shortage of cash and a crushing avalanche of court appearances and mediations that you scheduled in the then distant future, well into the future following your hardly-earned tropical tryst.But the future is now, my friends, and the impending rush of ill-considered matters that were punted down the line are rising like warm bread. The last throws of winter are the worst.

It might be possible to deal with all those foul matters we’ve postponed, if Mother Nature, the wretched witch, would see fit to deliver some remotely seasonal warmth. It dampens the day when you wake-up to an impending sunrise, to be fooled into thinking, “it looks rather springy out there in the near daylight of early March”, only step out your door into the face of a brisk minus 20 that cuts through your chest like cheap bourbon. Of course, the delightfully pure whiteness of our December winter-scape has given way to the grey-brown glacial sheets of densely packed ice and gravel blanketing the sidewalks and gutters. Aside from an active lava flow, it would be difficult to devise a surface less friendly to pedestrians (and the hips of seniors) than the late winter glacial cover. Fortunately (?), the icy moraine is periodically broken by the emerging lumps of dog feces that are suspiciously common beneath winter’s cloak. The thawing scats emit the smell of human shame and servitude: the stench of a sick society that hides its worst beneath the veil of winter. Of course, some of the crap is off-set by the sudden appearance of the bright red blight: the seasonal Tim’s Cup, with one piece of the paper lip rolled slightly upward, bearing the season’s most common affront, “Please play again”.

No. I’m done playing. I don’t even like Tim Horton’s and yet the prospect of a free crueler, or better yet, another coffee, somehow compels me to quadruple my TiHo’s intake during Roll Up season. One year, during law school, I won four coffees in a row and by the fourth I was praying that I didn’t win another. But the problem is, since you put everything off during Christmas and then your tropical vacation, you need the caffeine to get through the pile of stuff you adjourned. And since you’re drinking coffee anyway, you might was well get a Tim’s with a chance of winning ‘cause God knows Starbucks isn’t giving you anything for free. And since that vacation, you could really use a financial break. Besides, the TiHo’s is pretty close and the minus 20 weather and the moonscape sidewalk doesn’t invite a lengthy sojourn.  So let’s just get a Tim’s – my last cup asked me very nicely to play again anyway. Late winter is an asshole.

Of course, this year, during the depths of our Seasonal Affective Disorder, my wife and I promptly decided to finish our concrete basement and proceeded, like any brilliant litigator, to employ a contractor on a handshake to get things done. As such, the normal ugliness of the season has been amplified by all the ugliness of poorly detailed construction contract.The notion was that winter with two kids under two was resulting in some serious cabin fever that could be resolved by increasing our space and providing more room for “ripping around”. Of course, winter is nearing its end and we have no finished space yet, a meaningless budget and a thick coat of dust throughout the house. At one point, a “minor adjustment” to the position of the shower drain resulted in a grand excavation that looked more like the search for King Tut’s tomb.

The capstone to this season’s escapades was our quick“in-and-out” voyage from Saskatoon to Calgary to procure some “cheap” fixtures from Sweden’s favourite hex-key furniture hawker. IKEA ate more than three hours of my life and made a mockery of our budgeted intentions. Amidst the labyrinth of showrooms, we managed to avoid the horse-meat delights of the cafeteria, but risked low blood sugar and dehydration as a result. Of course,while we shopped, Mother Nature, in her late winter rage, descended on Calgary,pelting it with Fernie-like powder for hours, which paralyzed the town. We got stuck at a Sandman Inn across the street from IKEA for the extra night – and one more day away from the office, which was extremely helpful during the season of catch-up. If you need cupboards, you should probably just buy them in Saskatchewan.

As my wife and I quietly mulled dinner during the deepest throws of late winter this week, our eldest child, at just weeks over two years of age, continued his Ghandi-esque hunger strike, which seems to be aimed not at the realization of democratic freedom, but at taking his food to the front room. Following a very vocal and physical display of non-violent resistance that saw him writhing on the floor, and our continuing indifference to his tantrum, silence became the room. As we quietly chewed, our child very quietly and purposefully removed his socks. As his mother was turned, attending to the baby, he very precisely and resolutely placed his socks on top of his mother’s food on her plate and slowly backed away. It was the strangest, most curious display of defiance I had ever witnessed. And when my wife turned around, we looked to each other momentarily, and then attempted to contain our laughter.We knew that laughing at our child’s actions was poor patenting – it would only encourage him. But damn it was funny. At that point, we grabbed a pricey bottle of wine from the shelf and tore into it on a fine Tuesday night.

 To date, we have no idea what implored our child to such an odd act of rebellion – it made no sense. But frankly, it was hilarious. And I have to say, he’s continued his streak with our potty training efforts, wherein he decided he would pee in the potty, only because he determined that the Advil syringe he played with in the bath (yes, we give our child Advil, and yes, we let him play with medical implements from time-to-time) was equally effective at extracting his own pee from the potty. A toddler armed with a pee-filled syringe is precisely what we needed. But his acts made us laugh, not only at him, but at ourselves, and our consent to late winter misery. Frankly, life isn’t that bad, despite our climatic depression. Winter is in its final throws and the rush of February and March will give way to spring very shortly, and dreams of summer weekends on the water will come to fruition. The disputes of this month will pass, and the lazy days of summer will be upon us. I just hope our basement is done by then because we don’t have air conditioning and it would be nice to have a cool place to dwell during the sweltering heat. At least IKEA doesn’t make air conditioners.

I’m off to get a coffee… I’m due for a win.

Take the Free Sh*t: You’re Paying for it Anyway

It was an accident. Or so you told yourself as your faded iPhone 3GS crashed to the pavement from your weak, weak grip. Deep down inside, you know that your grip on that phone has been a little loose ever since you “qualified for an upgrade” with your wireless carrier. Canadians wait with bated breath for that special date every two years or so, when their wireless service provider offers an upgrade to the shiniest new device that promises to get you more connected at faster speeds in higher resolution than ever before – all for the measly price of maybe a hundred bucks…. and your sole, otherwise known as the three year contract. Six months later, when Apple smites you with a neven newer model, the cursing begins. Which of your children you wouldn’t give then to cut the three-year chains that define your life of servitude to Big Telecom so you could get your hands on the iPhone 5GS.

The Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) recently held a public hearing on the establishment of a mandatory code of conduct for wireless service providers. At the heart of public disdain for their wireless overlords is the wretched, universally despised three year service contract, which seems to be the hallmark of Canadian wireless carriers. Although I have limited sympathy for Canadian wireless carriers, I concur with them on one point: the three year contract, itself, is not an evil beast: it’s a purely voluntary election that people enter into freely. You can’t fault carriers if consumers choose a bad bargain. The real issue is that Canadian consumers must choose between a bad bargain and a worse bargain, where the only rational choice is to take the free sh*t.

At the advent of cellular service, Canadian (and U.S.) carriers, decided that, in order to get more people hooked on using their services, they would essentially finance the capital cost of handsets for new customers. Carriers ensured they recovered the cost of the handsets by locking those customers into long-term service contracts at minimum rates. Customers really seemed to like the idea of a “free phone” up front, and they needed a carrier for their shiny new phones anyway: it was a win-win. Then, newer, shinier faster phones that connected you better at higher speeds in greater resolution than ever before started showing-up more frequently – almost annually. But customers and their phones were locked to their current carriers under iron-clad contracts buffered by digital locks on phones. In response to customers’ unfulfilled desire for shiny things, carriers ingeniousely introduced the mid-contract “upgrade” – get the new device that gets you better connected at higher speeds in greater resolution than ever before for a couple hundred bucks… plus another three year contract. And the cycle continued, mostly because people like shiny thing.

The problem with the Canadian wireless system is not the length of service contracts. The problem is that, somehow, the financing of phones got tied-into the wireless service rates. When a person takes a cheap phone on promotion with a three year contract, there is no financing charge on each monthly statement – the cost recovery of the phone is simply tied into the overall service rates. As a result, wireless rates don’t reflect the actual cost of wireless service: they reflect the cost of wireless service and the cost of a new phone. If I show up at any Canadian carrier with my rickety, unlocked iPhone 3GS that I’ve already paid for, the carrier will charge me the same rates as the sucker who took their free phone deal, even though my phone is already paid for. Thus, I wind-up financing other people’s phones by paying the same inflated rates as all the free-phone-takers. As a result, the real suckers in Canada are people who don’t take the “free phone” deals offered by carriers, because we’re all paying for a phone anyway!

When cellular phones were first introduced, it seemed intuitive (or at least, not strange) that the wireless carriers also sold the hardware that worked on their networks. You might recall that the land-line telephone system initially required you to rent or purchase your phone from the service provider. Regulators eventually forced carriers to permit the connection of “third party devices” (ie. a telephone from Radio Shack) to the land-line systems. The availability, selection and price-points of landline phones flourished and telecom providers had to beuild their businesses based on providing service, not financing hardware. Does anyone enter into a three-year landline contract with Bell? In fact, does anyone still get a landline?

Today, you would likely find it absurd if the telephone company sold you a telephone, your internet provider sold you a computer, or your television provider sold you your television. Do you think Shaw owes you a television for free because you subscribe to its services?

The current wireless system is akin to Shell providing you a new Cadillac for $4,000.00, provided you buy gas exclusively from Shell for three years at pre-established minimum rates (which might be a little, or a lot higher than you would expect to pay for gas otherwise), with significant penalties for early termination. Also, your Caddy won’t run on Petro-Canada, Esso or any other gas you might like to try. If it breaks, you’ll need to keep buying Shell gas anyway, and we’ll offer you a replacement Caddy at the fair market price of $40,000.00… unless you qualify for an upgrade Caddy for only $6,000.00 and another three year contract tacked-on to your old one (you’ll be buying Shell for your natural born life) . It seems kind of stupid….although I might be onto something here (process patent pending, Shell).

The simple solution to this whole fiasco is not to ban three year contracts – banning things is the timeless solution of the idiot. Instead, CRTC should mandate that carriers must separate phone financing costs from actual wireless service costs for customers. Then, if I choose to buy the newest Android straight from Google, I know I will actually be paying for wireless services, not phone financing, when I go to a carrier for service. If someone wants a “free phone” from his carrier, that’s fine, but call it what it is – financing – and charge him for it accordingly, and separate from the actual provision of service. The carriers have trained North Americans to believe that new cell phones cost $100.00, instead of the actual $500.00 to $900.00 price tag. And we’ve sacrificed mobility between carriers and fair service rates for the “good deal”. It’s not that we’re all stupid, but that the only rational economic choice is to take the free phone, because you have no choice but to pay for it through inflated rates anyway.

Permitting carriers to support the “free phone giveaway” by hiding the capital costs in their wireless rates ensures everyone will be hooked on the three-year contract cycle like a bad drug. I’d like to get off the crack and would be happy to pay at least a few hundred dollars up front for my phone if I knew I could switch carriers at any point without penalty, and that the service rates I was getting weren’t inflated to pay for everyone’s shiny new phone. Forcing carriers to segregate phone financing rates from service rates is the simple solution that provides consumers with real choice respecting phone purchases and service providers. I think I’d hold onto my old iPhone 4 a little tighter in that world.

Well folks, it was a banner freakin’ year at the ol’ Dubois residence. We made it through another twelve months with a refined blend of caffeine, ibuprofen, Dewar’s with a hint of divine intervention. Wait - Maeghan just advised that was just Grandma Shelly, and not divine intervention. Although God is omnipresent, everyone I know has a key to our house now, so we can never be sure who to thank when we come home and the dishes have been put away... except that it probably wasn’t Regan.

Speaking of which, shortly after we gained a Hugo, our number two child (August 3rd), we lost a Regan (our temporary child by gift). Yes - we just had one boy, Hudson, a while back. And yes - we know how it happens now, and it’s not divine intervention, although I suspect God finds the whole situation pretty damn hilarious from time-to-time. Anyway, Uncle Regan left the house ingloriously in the midst of what appeared to be a Sunday hangover coupled with severe indigestion on an otherwise fresh fall day. Hudson was perplexed to find Uncle Regan shirtless, blanketless and curled into a ball on the front couch in the mid-morning sun, smelling of guinness, sweat and flatulence (commonly known as shame). While we were happy to have some extra space for the new guys, we certainly miss crazy Uncle Regan. He is doing well in his final year of Commerce at the U of S and he brings praise and honour to the family to offset any hint of shame.

And regarding the bringing shame to the family, Uncle Jason made a questionable move when he tossed a decked-out Aunty Jolene into the Hannen’s pool in Phoenix just after the crack of midnight on December 31st, 2011. Although Grandma Lynda takes some credit for instigating the affair, the episode inspired Randy Hannen, in a state of pure jubilation, to hurl her fully clothed figure into the pool behind them, complete with her cellphone. But as my darling wife pointed-out in an effort to assuage the damage, “It was just a Samsung.” The evening was a solid cap to a series of Phoenix-based festivities enjoyed by both of our families last holiday season.

And speaking of cell phones, I’m sure you’ve all heard about the Olympic cell phone theft from my wife that made national news a couple years back, that led to an undercover effort with the Vancouver police and a solid smack-down of the perpetrator. Well, we were robbed again in 2012 - our 2012 Chariot Cougar 2, purchased with our hard won dollars this spring to carry the expanded payload of our two guys, was taken from our garage this fall, along with a handful of other stuff. The police sent their finest 19 year-old rookie to “investigate” the theft, which investigation ended with, “We’re probably not going to do anything because we never really find anything.” That officer was obviously unaware of our previous crime fighting prowess.

First, Maeg picked-up the track of our Chariot at a children’s consignment store. My phonecall to the store got us further down the trail, such that the 19-year-old officer admitted to me that this was very exciting because this had “never happened to (her) before” and she further advised that “this (would) be an excellent learning experience”. I was armed with a serial number, some half-assed criminal law training and a belly full of anger to see this thing through. When the officer called back to advise that the store gave her some information about the person who brought the Chariot in, but that they didn’t want to provide any information about the subsequent purchaser, I got a little hot. It was clear this officer needed a little assistance and direction, so I did what I always do in a state of unbridled rage: I unleashed a strongly worded letter on the store. I advised them of how “the law” viewed their conduct and that I was content to sue them in the tort of conversion should they be unable or unwilling to provide the appropriate information. Two days later, the officer left me a voicemail advising that the store had provided her with all the information respecting the subsequent purchaser, and the video of the person who sold it to the store. We have since retrieved the Chariot and the deadbeat who sold it to the store has been charged with possession of stolen property. We don’t f&*%#ing tolerate thievery in our house... but we’ve got a bit of an issue with fire.

Grandma Shelly is pretty damn competent with all things child-oriented, and we consistently entrust her comfortably with the lives of our children, but it turns out we might want to take them to her house. A yam, which was intended to be a deliciously natural meal for the growing Hudder was placed in the microwave to cook whilst Grandma and Hudder played upstairs. Unfortunately, the yam continued to cook for a term of 45 minutes before it combusted inside the microwave sending a plume of toxic smoke throughout the house, which ultimately trashed the microwave and embedded the entire house with an ashtray-esque aroma. No one was injured, although Grandma’s pride has been slow to recover.

Several months later, once the smoke had cleared (it only took a couple months to be fair), Maeg thought to starting the fireplace on a cold winter morning. As she and our two guys went about their business, she suddenly caught a whiff of burning plastic. As she frantically looked for the cause, she saw visible smoke coming from the main floor, at which point she scrambled for her iphone (not a Samsung), and being unable to find it, fled into the street with the two guys yelling for help. Several strangers, and ultimately, the fire department responded, and our warring neighbour Cathy actually took Maeghan and the guys into her hostile territory. Several minutes later, a firefighter entered into Cathy’s and asked if Maeg was missing an iPhone, at which point, he produced a severely droopy iphone that had been melted on the top of the firebox behind the fireplace vent. Apparently, Hudder had been shoving things through the vent for some time. There was a reasonable collection of items surrounding the firebox. Fortunately, no drugs or porn were among Hudson’s fireplace bounty. I won’t tell you that we had recently fixed that same phone when Maeg drove over it. She got a whole new phone this time. It only took a couple weeks for the burnt plastic smell to disseminate - I’m sure that’s an Apple design feature.

And speaking of Maeghan causing trouble, did you hear about her ten day cruise with all the women in her mother’s family that left me with the task of weaning the Hudder? Think Trainspotting: heroin withdrawl scene insert Hudder for skinny guy and insert boob for heroin. That diddy earned me a long weekend in Banff with my law school cronies. How does 10 days of the Hudder, complete with the pain of weaning equal one three day weekend with the guys? I don’t know. I’ve never been strong at math - that’s why I went into law. Fortunately, with child number two, Maeg is pretty quick to bottle him now and then. Weaning him probably requires just a three day girl’s weekend in Vegas. However, I probably won’t earn enough plus-minus points for more than a night out on Broadway with Regan and the Mescall boys. I’m always running in the negative.

And speaking of running, did you hear that my wife ran the Bridge City Boogie when she was 7 months pregnant? Granted, she only did the 5K, stealing a WMCZ team shirt and bib from my colleague the morning of (it was raining pretty solid, and the colleague didn’t want to run). And she still managed to pull a better time than a bunch of my office folks. I had the Hudder in the old Chariot, and we did OK in the 10K, but Dad was clearly rusty. To be fair, I had to stop at one point to open Hudder’s protein bar (he hit’s the wall if he doesn’t get his fuel at 5K) - that caused us some issues. I was going to redeem us at the Outter Limits fun run at Elk Ridge in the fall, but Hugo got a rhino in his nose, which landed him (and us, by consequence) in the hospital for a fortnight (is that “four nights”, cause it kind of sounds like it... either way, it was four nights).

Poor Hugo got the full septic work-up as a result of a high fever, and when they couldn't find a cause, he was assigned to Aunty Jolene’s ward for a solid stay. We learned very quickly that the built-in counter ledge is almost precisely the same width as a standard Therm-a-rest camp mattress, which results in a functional, and even comfortable bed. At the end of the day, it seems that Hugo’s culprit was the standard Rhino-virus, or as you might know it, "a cold". But he was a pretty small guy at that point then with no vaccinations, so I guess it happens.

But we’ve been very lucky with grandparents, uncles and aunts at the constant ready to step-in when the guys get sick or when parents get lazy. Granpda Marcel constructed for Hudder a masterful sandbox on the same day that Hugo was born, and it’s sure to be a lasting sted for both boys, although Hudder has moved a good 50 pounds of sand from the box onto the lawn over the course of the fall. Of course, Hudder has a full compliment of John Deere equipment to farm his plot. But I have to say (Grandpa Grant/Uncle Morgan) that the purported “quality” of the John Deere product has not been imparted to the scale versions of the equipment. Have you seen the tractor with the missing hitch and the combine with the complete missing rear axle? I won’t say we’re considering changing colours, but if a red tractor showed-up, I’m not telling Hudder he can’t have it.

We feel that everyone around us is being promoted, winning professional awards and generally crushing the commercial world as of late. I regret to advise that Maeg is, once again, on maternity leave, and that I have no awards to show for my professional efforts, although I’ve got it on good authority that I’m not likely to be fired in the New Year, and no one has sued me thus far... so that’s something, right? But Maeg has implored that I at least mention that I was promoted to CFO of my firm. That’s Chief Fun Officer. It’s a very big responsibility and is highly regarded, although it resulted in no salary increase.... yet.

Anyway, all four of us are looking forward to a couple weeks in the Far West, just east of the Far East, better known as Hawaii. Grandpa and Grandma Dubois have decided to spend the farm to afford some time in the tropics with the next two generations. Maeg is excited because, for the first time in two years, and as far as we know, she won’t be pregnant for the birthday, New Years, and Anniversary trifecta... I presume she’ll have a mai tai or two. Really, it’s a bit of an affront to her Irish Catholicism, but I’m pretty tired, so I’m fine to spit in the face of the Church for a while, as we attempt to manage our current 2 under 2. If we had 3 under 3, I’m pretty sure I’d lose that CFO appointment right quick.

And speaking of tired, did I mention that we’re a little tired? I guess that’s to be expected. But you know, I wouldn’t necessarily say we’re any busier than anyone else. I’ve heard a lot about how busy people are in these parts. I’m not sure if we’re busy: we’re just tired. I don’t think we have particularly more or less to do than anyone else, but it’s tough enough just getting through each day with a couple of dependents in diapers, isn’t it? But then I think of all the single parents out there, and people without sufficient means to raise a family, and I think, man, we’ve got it pretty damn good. In fact, there are still small windows when we watch TV programs on the web now and then. And although we’ve spent approximately a year in self-righteous glory, announcing to all comers that “we don’t have TV”, we’re actually considering getting TV back in the new year. I know. We probably aren’t busy enough.

And speaking of being OK, we’re pretty happy about our general station in life. Although we lost Maeg’s Grandpa Lorne in 2012, he lived a long life full of love and service, and we can’t think of a better example to follow in our meagre household. We’ve got two healthy guys (well - Hugo runs fevers now and then, and Hudson is pale as a ghost in January, but Aunty Jolene assures us they’re healthy as Lance Armstrong sans steroids), a house that exceeds our station in life, supportive family and the best of friends in our own neighbourhood. Hudson has recently been requesting to go “home” regardless of where we are, and he gleefully exclaims, “Home!” as we round the alley to enter the garage. We will do our best to appreciate that while it lasts, because, one of these times, our house actually will catch fire.

Happy New Year everyone!

“Les Dubois”