Wednesday, April 06, 2011

Why My Children Should Fear Genetics

From time to time, my job demands that I leave the comfort of my home in The Shire and make the perilous journey to Mordor where I attempt to do business with all manner of Orcs and Nazgul. It was on one such trip, recently, that I found my return train-ride home becoming tiresome. Not in the mood for reading my book or making small-talk with fellow travelers, I decided that I should use my portable technology to create a near-real-time photo-essay of my travels to share with my children. And by that I mean that I took pictures and emailed them to my kids (thanks free Wifi!) along with some descriptive text to 'show them what Daddy does all day'.

I must confess that my kids are in their mid-to-late teens and refuse to call me Daddy. But I try for them. Dammit, I try.

Not content with my daughter's summary judgement that there's something seriously wrong in my head, I offer a reproduction of my complete 14-part photo-essay for The World to judge for itself. If there is something wrong with my head, I shall accept the verdict and weep for my offspring's crushing genetic burden.

Email #1:

Walking back to the train station, I took a picture of the CN Tower and CBC Headquarters.
















Email #2:

And here I am getting closer to the train station. Aren't those buildings tall?  That gold-coloured building is the Royal Bank head office. That's real gold mixed into the windows to cut down on sunlight. Know why? It's because sunlight makes bankers sick!














Email #3:

This is inside Union Station where the trains live! That's such a BIG window! I'm glad I don't have to clean it. If someone at Union Station ever asked me to do that, I'd just say, "I don't do windows, man!". Ha! Sucker!














Email #4:

Here is my train and I am inside it! There aren't many people here in First Class. Do you think they'd be my First Class Friends? I do!
















Email #5:


Baseball statues! I don't understand.

















Email #6:

That guy just gave me Gin and Tonic for FREE! Ha ha! He has an accent, so I shall call him Julio. That's Spanish for HOO-lee-oh! But his name tag says Frank, so he probably borrowed it from someone. Maybe Frank is sick and Julio is helping out. I just hope Frank doesn't find out Julio is giving away free drinks!












Email #7:

Julio also gave me pretzels for FREE! There were 9 of them in the little bag. I'm stuffed! Hope I have room for dinner!
















Email #8:

Hey! Julio and his friend Marg just brought me sushi for an appetizer! And they also gave me red wine, a roll, and some desert! The First Class Friends agree: Julio and Marg are doing an awesome job today! Bon apetite to me!









Email #9:

Here is one of the First Class Friends. I don't know him yet, but I've decided his name is Big Jim and he is head of train car security. But he's wearing a red shirt and, according to Star Trek rules, 'red shirts' always get killed if there is trouble. Poor Big Jim! I hope things don't get out of hand!













Email #10:

 Oh no! I think Julio is trying to kill the First Class Friends! Look what he brought us for dinner. Brown stuff with green stuff! I think Big Jim is going to have to fight Julio now and save the First Class Friends! Poor Julio! Poor Big Jim!










Email #11:

Good news! There's no fighting on the train! It's against the rules! So Big Jim just went and had a nap. And Julio brought all the First Class Friends a great, big chocolate to eat with our coffee. Yay! Julio saved the day!














Email #12:

We are in Woodstock now. Just 20 minutes and our train ride is over! The First Class Friends are sad. And they're afraid because no one wants to wake Big Jim and get him mad! Do you think Julio will wake Big Jim? I bet he doesn't. I bet he makes Marg do it! Oh that Julio!








Email #13:

Ha ha! There is a bathroom on this train. But it is hard to use it! They both look like sinks! What do I do??












Email #14:

It's the end  of the line for the First Class Friends. Goodbye train. Goodbye Julio. Goodbye Marg. Goodbye Big Jim. I will miss you all. But maybe NEXT time we will see COWS out the train window! That would be something!














So....yeah. Probably thinking I shouldn't drink on the train, right?

6 comments:

Adam Kantor said...

That Pretzel pack actually looks like a book written by someone named Bret Zels.

Kid Dork said...

Absolute brilliance. Well done, sir.

plumsauce10 said...

That was absolutely awesome. I am also incredibly jealous at the flashness of your train journeys. I'm lucky to find myself on a train that doesn't smell like BO... I remember that day, that was a good day...

Sonny Drysdale said...

Someone needs another Disney vacation. Great travelogue, as per usual.

Crazylegs said...

Adam - Someone told me on good authority that PretZels is Spanish for 'ready zealot', which I think is kind of a badass coded message for me to do something cool and dangerous - like eat Mystery Dinner on a train.

KD - Thank-you, sir! Boredon + time + technology = Win!

Plum - Thanks - glad you enjoyed it! I must reiterate that I had a First Class ticket. rest assured that Canadian Coach Class is every bit as grotty as its English counterpart. Example: in Canada, we ride coach on open-air flatbed cars with haphardly stewn benches for seating. Mind you, they did upgrades last year. They now provide a 'privacy blanket' for the loo-bucket *and* there are now secure anchors to which we can tie up our family beavers.

Sonny - You're right, Disney calls. Think we might be visiting the Mouse for New Year's. All I need to do is convince one of my kids that an extra kidney is a valuable thing to some nameless, wealthy foreigner...

plumsauce10 said...

Really? A privacy blanket?? Awesome. We don't have those yet but if you talk nicely to the train man, he lets you take your own blanket in at times.