Did you partake in 74 in the 70’s? 74 was an inexpensive port wine very popular with financially challenged high school students. It was cheap, but it got the job done. Another favourite was the cost-effective jug of Golden Glow apple cider. We would chip in on a bottle of Golden Glow and use the dregs to fill the bottom of our water pipe. If we were on a spending spree, then we would splurge on a bottle of Cracklin Rose. A bottle of Cracklin Rose was considered classy because it had a non-screw-off cap. Legend has it that Neil Diamond’s Cracklin Rosie was not a love song but inspired by a bunch of winos drinking the bubbly around a campfire. Those were the days of wine and roses.

Drinking cheap wine was not without complications. If you gave a novice a few slugs of cheap port, then they would follow you anywhere or do just about anything you asked. This, of course, was a good thing if you happened to be the one controlling the port. If on the other hand, you were the one getting fed the cheap port,then all you ended up getting was screwed (non-figuratively of course).

My mind is a bit fussy when it comes to the 70’s, but I believe the euphemism “getting caught with your pants down” represents what those in control of the port managed to do to those they coerced into feeding off the buzz of the port. Coincidently, this was at the same time we were introduced to “non-disclosure agreements”.  I would love to tell you the truth behind some of the stories of the day, but I am sworn to secrecy. You will just need to take my word for it, but believe me when I say that I have your best interests at heart. Now take another drink from my glass, bend over and brace yourself.

Fast forward to present day Cape Breton. Unfortunately, we are still being force fed cheep cheep port files. Yes, it’s the latest buzz, but secrecy and non-disclosure agreements continue to keep us in the dark. If you want to be a member of the CBRM team, then you need to drink the port. Otherwise, you are branded as a whiner taking a cheap shot from the cheap seats.

It appears that the only thing that has changed in CBRM since the 70’s are the names of the people in control of the port file.  At least with Cape Breton’s new coal mine, we know there is a shaft involved.

If you want more buzz on all things current in the Cape Breton Regional Municipality, then check out The Cape Breton Spectator.

Dr. StrangeJob

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The poverty rate for children under six years of age in Cape Breton is a staggering 42.7%.

Dr. StrangeJob believes the issue of poverty should be the number ONE priority in the upcoming municipal elections. The following is his message to all Cape Breton Regional Municipality (CBRM) politicians, bureaucrats, and officials that have not, or will not, address the issue of poverty in CBRM.

Starving children in our community need to be served something other than the self-serving entitlement drivel currently served by some of our elected officials. If you are not willing to address the issue of poverty in CBRM, then I suggest you follow the advice of Dr. Wilbur Swain (Slapstick by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.) – “Why don’t you take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut? Why don’t you take a flying fuck at the mooooooooooooon?”

Vote to feed empty stomachs, not to feed empty political promises.

Dr. StrangeJob

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Madeline is my youngest, older sister. When we were kids, she would often remind me that she was two years my senior between August 9 and November 1 of each year. I now take solace in the fact that I am two years her junior for the same period. This story happened when we were both teenagers and hardly ever apart.

We were celebrating Madeline’s birthday at a friend’s house with a few joints and some loud music. We lost track of time and suddenly realized that we had to rush home for supper. Because Madeline was my mother’s favorite, Mom always cooked a grand supper for her birthday. That year’s specialty was spaghetti and meatballs. It was a 20-minute walk home, but the time went quickly – perhaps due to the nice weather or possibly to the mind altering substance consumed on the walk home. Either way, Madeline was in an altered state of mind upon arriving home for supper.

My father noticed first. It was obvious to him that Madeline and I were both stoned. Since this was before the misplaced stash of pot and a complex father incident, I assumed that Madeline and I were both about to be in deep doo-doo. I was both surprised and grateful that he appeared to be letting us slide on this one. Then things started to get a little strange. Mother served each of us a plate of spaghetti with unusually large meatballs. My father and I set out to eat the meatballs, but Madeline just stared at her plate in wonder. Then she picked up her fork and began what can only be described as a painfully slow and poorly executed attempt at stabbing one of the meatballs. At least, that is how it appeared to me. The problem was that she kept missing the meatball with her fork. My father looked at Madeline and then at me. Madeline remained fixated on the meatballs. My mother looked at my father, then at Madeline, then at me. Madeline just kept staring at the meatballs, still attempting to stab one of them with her fork.

The silence was deafening, but occasionally shattered by a “clink clank” sound of Madeline’s fork as it hit the kitchen table after careening off the rim of her dinner plate. Mom, Dad and I just stared at Madeline as she systematically pursued her relentless attack on the meandering meatballs. Clink clank. Click clank. This continued until someone, perhaps Dad, came up with the idea that Madeline must have come down with that nasty flu bug that had been going around. Clink clank. Click clank. I was tasked with helping Madeline to her room. Note to self – if ever in a similar situation, then remember to ask the person with the fork to let go of it before proceeding. Clink clank, duck fork, clink clank, duck fork.

The next day, I asked Madeline if she recalled what had happened at supper the evening before. Apparently, she thought the meatballs were trying to escape and she was simply trying to catch them. Shortly after this incident, Madeline became a vegan.

I think about those poor meatballs every August 9 on Madeline’s birthday. I have been wanting to tell the story of the meandering meatballs for some time, but I could never come up with an appropriate life lesson learned from the incident – until now.

Life is like a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. If there is too much on your plate, then stay low and keep moving – otherwise you’re forked.

Coincidently, Mrs. StrangeJob shares the same birthday as Madeline. In Mrs. StrangeJob’s case, we are the same age between August 9 and November 1, but I will never be the wiser.

Happy Birthday

Dr. StrangeJob

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Who is Dr. StrangeJob and how will he save the CB economy?

To begin: I am not, nor have I ever claimed to be, anyone other than the person I am currently pretending to be.

So who is Dr. StrangeJob, and what is his elaborate plan to save the Cape Breton economy?

First and foremost, Dr. StrangeJob is not a liar, but he does admit to being prone to excessive recklessness with the truth. That said, he considers himself to be a noble man, one with countless years of dedicated service in various world peace initiatives. In his youthful years, he was considered by many to be quite the prize, and to this day, he still fancies himself a winner. In other words, Dr. StrangeJob is Cape Breton’s first and foremost Noble Peace Prize Winner.

There are many exploits that could be shared about the good Doctor, but paramount to his current plan to save the Cape Breton economy is in recognizing his visionary approach that ultimately spawned Incompetents Anonymous – the World’s first 12+1 Step self-help program.

So, just how does Dr. StrangeJob plan to save the Cape Breton Economy? In two words – Akron Ohio

Yes, that Akron, Ohio, otherwise known as the birthplace of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) That’s right, what Dr. Bob S. did for Akron, Dr. Dan S. plans to do for Cape Breton. Do you have any idea how many tourists travel yearly to Akron to attend meetings, view historical landmarks, by trinkets, rent lodgings, and eat at local restaurants? Just imagine, the busloads (heck, maybe container loads) of new tourists spending all of their money just to visit the birthplace of Incompetents Anonymous.

Sure, the idea may seem pie in the sky, but the Doctor has a plan. In fact, he has a 12+1 Step plan, and he has already invested a considerable amount of his personal time and money into the development of a world class marketing and membership drive. He does realize, however, that we must take the process one step at a time, and that the first step is the most vital.

That is why, and upon immediate press release, the Doctor will work with all key CBRM stakeholders, the various levels of government, and local educational institutions in support of the development and creation of “The Cape Breton Centre of Excellence – Incompetents Anonymous”. Just imagine the marketing slogans for that one!

This is what we do best. Just look at the abundance of natural resources we have in politics alone.

Visit Cape Breton for the beauty, stay for the incompetence.

So ends Part I of the continuing saga of Dr. StrangeJob – Savior of CBRM

Dr. StrangeJob

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Dr StrangeJob is proud to be associated with the inaugural edition of The Cape Breton Spectator, the new weekly online newspaper developed by Mary Campbell.

The Cape Breton Spectator is dedicated to issues concerning Cape Breton Island in general, and the CBRM in particular. Capers now has a viable alternative for reliable and unbiased news.

Please share the news about The Cape Breton Spectator with fellow Capers, and don’t forget to read the Doctor’s contribution, Dr. StrangeJob: That’s Not What Ivany Meant!

Dr. StrangeJob

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The Dr. StrangeJob website is not a porn site and Dr. StrangeJob is not a writer of porn. That said, it has been a very titillating few weeks. It all started with an update to the firewall software on my laptop, which without either warning or notice promptly blocked access to www.drstrangejob.ca. At first, I thought the issue was my web hosting service and I wasted a load of time trying to get my site back up. I am not sure why the firewall software blocked my website, perhaps it used the Urban Dictionary’s definition of “strange”, which refers to “strange” as sex outside of your current relationship. It may have gotten its undies in a bunch imagining various sexual exploits that also involved the word “job”, and inferred that the combination of “strange” and “job” must be in reference to a vile porn site of moral oral proportions. Now I know why they call it software rather than hardware.

Next, I was censored by Facebook. Yes, Facebook, but it was not what you think. I was simply following their directions. Facebook repeatedly poked the Doctor with messages declaring that one of my posts was performing better than 95% of all other posts on my page, and recommended that I boost that post for even “greater” results. How could I refuse, so I anteed up the $2 charge and waited for the pay off. Within minutes, I received a notice that my post was approved and that I should start seeing positive results shortly. I monitored the post for a few hours and, to my satisfaction, was receiving positive results from the boost.

Approximately four hours later, I discovered that the boosted post was suspended without notification. I thought that was odd, considering Facebook suggested I boost the post in the first place, Facebook approved the boost, and Facebook actually ran the boost for a number of hours. Incidentally, I did receive a single comment on the boosted post by a Facebook user with the handle “WTF?”, which coincidentally reflected my own thoughts on the matter.

The issue was not the Doctor’s initial posting; it was just fine. The problem was a hyperlink from the initial Facebook post to a site that had coincidently updated its content after Facebook’s initial screening, but prior to the Doctor’s boost being suspended. The linked site’s update included a four letter word starting with “F”. The Doctor’s boost was suspended because the linked site added content that was considered unacceptable. I guess Facebook never sleeps.

Strike three was when the Doctor’s Mother’s Day post was censored on a local community website. Granted, my use of a fourth-grade juvenile pun concerning a “master” and a “baiter” may have touched on a soft spot, but the website could have handed it back for edit instead of just yanking it off their site. I will take a hands-off approach with that particular website for a bit, but I sure hope they don’t unlike me as a result.

These were innocent trespasses by the Doctor, but others purposely profit from internet guilty pleasures. Part II will look at the recent trend of mainstream advertisers exploiting their wares on porn sites, on the increase of porn advertisement on mainstream media, and on how the Doctor plans to get in on some of that action.

Dr. StrangeJob

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