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Every so often there is an event that resonates with everyone. That reaches across socio-economic division and mobilizes the masses as a whole. Creates a movement. I feel we are on the cusp of such a happening here in historic Philadelphia. Because, the mayor wants to tax soda. I think to the rest of the country that should read the mayor wants to tax pop.
As I blog this there are people on the local news vowing to make covert runs to the suburbs to get their fix. They will join the ranks of those who sneak contraband liquor over the bridge from New Jersey to circumvent the State Store system. A whole new class of criminal. I can see it now. Patrol cars pulling people over on as they cross over City Line Ave. and Township Line Road and checking trunks for 2 liter bottle of cola.
Really, this is all I have heard about for the last two day. And from my personal observation at work, people are stocking up. It almost makes you wonder if the soda companies aren't fanning the flames.
The proposed tax is 2 cents an ounce, which on a 64 ounce bottle would double the price. The mayor assures us it is for our own good. Not only will we gain revenue, we will fight obesity. We might be poor, but we'll be skinny.
The same proposal includes a plan to charge each household for picking up the trash. Nobody wants to talk about that one.
I don't drink soda as a rule. I can't tell you the last time I had one, and most likely it had some bourbon mixed in with it. But , you know, it is the principal of the thing, What's next? If they put a tax on coffee, that would really hit home.
I am waiting for some one to organize the Philadelphia Pepsi revolt, where we all go down to the river and dump 2 liter bottles of soda into the Delaware., shouting "No taxation with carbonation" ! We would have to disperse quickly though because the city is cracking down on flash mobs.
The title of this post has nothing to do with soda. For lots of reasons I won't bore you with I need to migrate this blog from one place to another. In light of my level of technical proficiency in such maters, I was panic stricken. Not for Wednesdays Off, but because my blog is connected to Star's blog, Sarcasmo's Corner. As much as I would be sorry to lose my chronicles of the trip to Japan, the birth of my grandchildren, and all of the amazing things they have done since ( I didn't mind boring you with that, did I?), losing her words would be devastating to me.
To the rescue came Star's friend, Tim. I have placed her legacy in his most capable hands. Anyway, one of these days soon we will be off the grid for a just a bit.
See you at the new address.
How Much Fun Can You Have for $3.69 ?
The CP paid a visit the other day, along with his Mom, and Sparkle. He came in and promptly announced that he was going to take a bath. It was 3 in the afternoon. I suggested we play in his room and he agreed so I thought the bath was forgotten. We got upstairs and he started shedding his clothes. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I told you" he said "I'm going to take a bath"
For the CP, bath time at our house, is an event. We generally have advance knowledge that he will be staying overnight and I have time to stock up on bubbles and bath activities. We have fun and he is in a confined area for a significant stretch of time during which I am only required to sit and keep him company.
As I drew him this spontaneous tub full of water he poked around under the sink, where we keep all of his bath paraphernalia. I warned him that I wasn't sure if I had stocked up since his last stint in our tub.
"Mom Mom" he said, in a voice that implied that he, being 5 now, knew when I was trying to put one over on him. And he held up a a pack of bathroom cups. The store brand, plain white, plastic, 3 ounces each.
One and a half hours of fun, for the low low price of $3.69. Those cups were stacked unstacked and re- stacked. At one point they became a wiggly snake. They were the stuff that songs were sung about. Loudly, and sometimes with rhyming. There was a rousing game of Dodge Cup where we finger flicked them at each other off the rim of the tub.
And for the grand finale:
Except for vacations it unusual for me to be off from work on a Saturday. That's just how it is in retail. Thanks to Snowmageddon and a rescheduled baby shower I was off two in a row. Besides indulging in actual weekends, I was able to partake of another guilty pleasure. I watched me some Saturday morning cartoons.
Granted these are not the cartoons of my youth. There is a definite lack of anthropomorphisized animated animals bopping each other on the head with frying pans. And we are the sorrier for it if you ask me. Today's cartoon offerings seem determined to teach a lesson. I have an affinity for The Emperor's New School where the self-absorbed Kuzco and his not too sharp friend Kronk try to find the easy way out of a situation, and end up learning something the hard way.
You can learn a lot from cartoons. The other day the CP was showing me his latest acquisition, a miner type headlamp. I said we could use that for spelunking, fully expecting that to be a new word for him. it wasn't. He already knew that spelunking meant exploring a cave. He had learned about it on Toot & Puddle.
Yesterday, as we played a shower game where you name the baby version of an animal, Sarcas-sis and I briefly considered calling the CP for some of the answers. Scoff if you will, but only if you know what you call a baby antelope.
Thanks to an event cancellation due to 28 inches of inclement weather, I had a bona fide snow day today. Normally I would be at work on a Saturday, storm of the decade not withstanding. You know how it goes, neither rain nor snow will keep us. Yep, even on a day that the US Postal Service suspended their operations, the supermarket was open.
It was nice to have a day with out a schedule and nowhere to be. Freedom to do whatever, whenever. A rare occurrence indeed.
A few days ago I received two emails. Each from a different web related vendor, and both announcing pending upheaval for Wednesdays Off and Sarcasmo's Corner. Need I tell you that panic ensued ? If you've been reading along you know that Sarcasmo was the brains of the operation. She was tech support. And she made it look easy.
I was relaying my dismay to Sarcas-sis who said we ought to take a class in this blog stuff. That is on my list as soon as I have the time. As are piano lessons. Every time I dust the 88 keys in the dining room I think it should be used for more than displaying photos. I am pretty sure I got the music in me, I just can't get it out. And ballroom lessons so I can dance myself skinny like the celebrities on Dancing With the Stars. I think I got the rhythm as well. All of this while Sarcasdad and I are travelling the world.
If I should ever win big in the lottery, life will be one big snow day. Only I would get to leave the house.
You know what they say. That nothing brings family together like a wedding, or a funeral. Unfortunately, it was the latter that gathered our clan from several corners of the continent.
Those of us still together last night decided to go out to dinner. So 12 of us descended upon our favorite neighborhood restaraunt. A lovely little spot sandwiched between a bar and a hair salon that serves the best Thai cuisine I have ever had ,with perhaps the exception of one meal I ate years ago in Germany. The place has the capacity to seat about 40 people , so we rather dominated the room. As it goes with such groups, there were conversations being held over top of other conversations. And the 12 included our 2 youngest family members, the CP and Sparkle. They are very well behaved children, but, still children. One an infant. So games were played, like , shoot the matchbox cars down the table, and pass the baby from one relative to the next. I felt a little bad for the couple trying to have a nice romantic dinner across the aisle. Just a little.
I know that Sarcasmo Jr., as well as the Flutist and her hubby, the Composer were sorry they had to leave before we all sat down to steamed dumplings and spicy duck. But they will really be sorry when they learn ,that we, played Whisper Down the Lane.
I think it started with a whisper from Sarcasis into the CP's ear. Whatever the secret was, he passed it along to his great-aunt.(I know that sentence made her feel old). She obligingly passed it to his great-uncle and so it went , right around and through a great grandmother, a few more great uncles, a second cousin ( or is it a cousin once removed ? I can never get that straight), Sarcasdad and myself and the CP's dad. Right back to the CP who giggled mightily to find that "Ish Kabibble" had come back as "fish & poodle".
Can we party or what?
The game continued through desert. I suspect some tom foolery on the part of at least one Great Uncle. There is no other explanation for" Mickey Mouse " transposing into "Donald Duck."
It's a Little Late to the Station
Sarcasdad recently took possession of a toy train set. It is the one his Dad set up for Christmas when Sarcasdad and his four brothers were boys. Now not only are those boys grown, but their boys have grown as well. The engineer's cap is being passed to the CP's generation of the Sarcas-family.
The plan was for Sarcasdad to set it all up in time to surprise the CP on Christmas. Besides the train and track there are all kinds of accessories. Plastic houses and places of business. Little people and trees and park benches. Everything carefully stored in the original boxes. To use it all would require space so Sarcasdad decided to set up a platform in the basement.
I think it was the next day we discovered the leak that put into motion the destruction , and consequent reconstruction of, the basement. That was the job that was supposed to be done in a week and in reality took a month. Anyway, that put Sarcasdad a bit behind. As did a major work related project that left him no spare time. That wrapped up right before Christmas and Sarcasdad unpacked the train, only to find it wasn't in working order.
So service was delayed while we upgraded to a more modern system. The engine might be new but it still circles around the old plastic houses and the same plastic people. The shiny new track runs right by the plastic Exxon station where, by the way, gas is advertised at 27.9¢ a gallon, and 32.9¢ for premium.
We are on schedule for a New Years Day inaugural run with the CP at the controls.