They're just little things, but I've seen some interesting things around Whitehorse this week:
The Stunt Man
There I was, in downtown Whitehorse at Zola's, interviewing a stakeholder for her thoughts on a strategic plan that's being developed, when our conversation is interrupted by a loud crash.
Actually, our interruption was interrupted before the crash. I saw it happen. A man, the kind of man that you would call "solid" but not "fat" (I don't think that I would even call him "big". He looked "tough", but not "rough"), was sitting on a stool by the front window. Something gave way on the metal stool and he went down.
It was the falling motion that caught my peripheral vision. My head turned and I witnessed the rest of it. Mr. Solid Guy tipped to the side and landed with his back and ribs on a wooden chair that was tucked up against the wall. From there, he twisted towards the ground where managed to arrest his fall with a flailed arm and a strange sort of crouch. By this point, everyone standing around was gasping.
Stoically, he arose and whispered to everyone who inquired about injuries (including the staff) that he was fine. The stool wasn't. A weld had gone on one of the supports and the thin metal folded beneath his weight. It was twisted and bent with no hope of repair. One of the staff members carted the stool away.
I didn't see where Mr. Solid Guy went.
House for Sale?
Someone has posted a sign on a few of the lamp posts in my neighbourhood. The sign has a picture of a house and reads, in large bold letters, something like "Help fight Climate Change!"
Curious, I read the rest. The smaller print says, "Sell us your (name of neighbourhood here) house so we can walk and bike to school/work/wherever". Call (names and number here)."
An interesting approach to home buying, I thought. Since there are a couple of houses in the area for sale, I wonder if they've enquired into those ones or if they're after the house in the picture and have begun a strange lobbying campaign in an attempt to get the owner of that house to sell.
Fair Trade Painting
When giving directions to our house, I no longer have to say, "My house is the (ugh) pink (blecch) one."1
This makes me very happy. When God (or Whoever/Whatever) was making colours, I think that pink got beaten with the ugly stick. As a colour, it just does not appeal to me, so I'm very relieved that our house is getting painted.
I enjoy painting pictures but I do not enjoy painting houses. Not even a little bit. I don't know why.
Apparently, my neighbour across the road is the same way about mowing the lawn. One evening, as we were painting the pink away, Fawn suggested that I offer to mow my neighbour's lawn if she would come and paint the house. Fawn was only kidding, but I didn't realise that. Before she could stop me, I was already talking to the neighbour across the road. It didn't take long to strike a deal at all. As I recall, it went something like this:
Me: "You go paint. I'll mow your lawn."
I never realised how many people have an aversion to mowing their lawns. Norris is finishing the painting on my house and, in exchange, I am mowing his lawn for the rest of the season. As far as I'm concerned, I got the better end of the deal (summer won't be around much longer), but Norris is convinced that he's got the better end of the deal. I guess that's what makes a good deal a good deal - when both parties are immensely satisfied with what they have to give in exchange for what they get.
I am immensely satisfied with my almost pink-free house.
1When people saw it, they invariably said, "Aw, it's not that bad!" (It was.)