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Being a man of extra hair and extra layers, the heat and I don’t get along well.

Now I’m not one of those dudes that breaks into a ‘hotwing’ sweat with the rise of the sun nor am I one of those dudes who suffers from the pancake pits (thanks to an extra dose of Old Spice deodorant mind you) but I still have a difficult time understanding the stereotypical sun worshipper, of which we all know at least three.

I’m not anti-sun, just anti-heat which is much the same as ‘having your cake and eating it too’.

And so as the cold showers get longer, much like the dog days of summer, it’s days like this where I’m reminded of being a child, spending time in our dirt floor cellar, assembling lego kits, staying cool. Oooohhh, where are those lego kits now?

After typing out the word ‘sandwich’, I somewhat feel tempted to comment on that word itself but I will try to remain focused, especially when I’m talking about food.

We took a lot of great calls this morning, all of them sharing their favorite snacks with our listeners. Whether you’re dipping your morning toast into your tomato juice or enjoying a peanut butter and mayonnaise bunwich (apparently Elvis IS alive and well, living in the Gas City) or watching your egg yolk meld with your cheeseburger, much like two snowflakes, no single person’s diet is the same.

Personally, my favorite of all time would be an open faced turkey sandwich, heavy on the salt and pepper, lightly doused in gravy. Simple and effective, it’s great for adding to your fat layer when winter hits.

Of course, I’m also prone to the infamous tuna melt, chicken carbonara sub, roast beef sandwich with extra horseradish and when I feel like walking nostalgic, you can’t ever go wrong with the classic PB&J.

So Niki, my co-host, opted against the good advice of swimming in Echodale Park. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a little piece of some sweet goodness out there but when people won’t even let their pets go swimming, there should be red flags raised.

And instead of red flags, Niki is now sporting red bumps all over the place.

I’d like to use this space to thank all of our listeners who phoned in with remedies like the cold tea bag, hot mustard on the body and even the gentleman who suggested that Niki undergo a physical.

All is well however as Niki is recuperating nicely and more importantly, I don’t have to put up with the sound of scratching, constant scratching. . . . ..

While out riding with Moose yesterday (no, that’s not his real name) I couldn’t but help notice my jacket was covered in bugs. Bug juice, bug parts, bugs mixed with other bugs, wingless bugs, legless bugs and basically shades of yellow, brown and green splattered bugs all over my leather.

I’ve forgotten something very important yesterday concerning bike windshields. Not only do they prevent your noggin’ from involuntarily doing the ‘bobble-head’ not to mention seriously eliminating the stinging sensation of getting hit in the lips by a dragonfly, they’re also a wonderful means of helping keep your riding clothes clean and bug free.

2 hours of sponging my jacket last night with a damp cloth was not the best thing I’ve done as far as leisure time goes.

Coming from a farm where sharing one phone line with 3 families was common practice, this whole ’10 digit dialing’ thing is nothing like the days ole’.

The days of operator assisted phone calls are no longer nor are the rotary phones for that matter.

It wasn’t that long ago where you’d hop on the banana seat bike to pedal the half mile to the neighbors house and ask if they hung up the phone incorrectly ‘cause Mom needs to phone Aunty Barb and she needs that phone right now, dog-nab it!

So give me your ten numbers as I’ll gladly accept the extra literal 2 seconds it will take to dial up buddy as opposed to hoofing it to Margaret’s house to see if her bedroom rotary phone is off the hook.

With the first day of summer tomorrow and Mother Nature finally co-operating, I’ve forgotten how much I enjoy the dog days of summer. (great movie by the way)

It’s been a while since I’ve attended an outdoor festival and so it’s good to know that this long air, aging hippie can still get excited about concerts, specifically, the STONE TEMPLE PILOTS. I’ve polished up the BluBlockers, grabbed the spf 95 sunblock and loaded up the wallet just in case I opt for some of that flat, overpriced draft.

Of course with summer comes mosquitoes and yes, all those 70 year old men going on 20 , complete with black nylon socks and speedos while they cut their grass. (gives me the shivers just thinking about it)

Yesterday I went riding and while today will be no different, I forgot something very cool about becoming a part of a family of riders. You really do become a part of a unique family. Whether you’re just getting together to swap stories or to work on your ride over a couple of cold ones, there’s a feeling of comfort that takes place over the course of approximately 4 seconds and the next thing you know you’ve made a whole new series of friends.

Last night Dennis invited me out to hang with some of his crew and so I say thanks for the following for making feel at home:

Dennis and Colombe, Jeff, Angela and Ella, Mark, Scott, James, Croc, and The German. (no one knows what his real name is)

As well, a big thanks to Jay, Greg, Brandy, Diane and Ivan.

And most of all, a thanks to my better half for sacrificing her pastimes so that I can fulfill mine.

There ain’t gonna much to today’s blog for the simple fact I’ve got a bike in the garage just waiting to be ridden.
It’s been well over a decade since I rode on a regular basis and it’s been longer than that of my goal of attaining a Harley and yesterday, it all came together. I even walked out to the shed this morning and fired it up, just because.

With that being said, I got to got to go.

So the CFL kicked off their pre-season last week and let’s be honest, no one cares about the East so we’ll leave that part of football out.

The Grey Cup Champs and my arch nemesis, the RoughRiders beat the crap out of BC and as much as I don’t care for Rider Pride, I will admit that it was great to see BC being throttled at the hands of some big ole’ prairie boys.
I’m a Bomber fan through no choice of my own and I will remain True Blue for the rest of my days. And even though the absolute worst team in the CFL ousted my Blue&Gold, it wasn’t so bad. I mean, at least it was a pre-season game right so a W or L doesn’t count. (Thankfully)

I did hear however that Troy Westwood, Winnipeg fan favorite and Blue Bomber vet kicker has been released from the club. I’m sure that I’m one of very few Bombers fans that is not upset that he’s leaving. Let’s be honest, when your percentage of completed kicks hovers around the 60% mark, you know you should be flipping through the classifieds looking for your next gig. All in all, I can’t wait for the CFL regular season to kick off (no pun intended) in hopes that my Bombers seek out some much needed vengeance.

Now that Mother Nature has allowed us a taste of summer in the last few days, I’ve noticed that my interests continue to change as I get older.

Cutting the grass for example. At one time you couldn’t get me close to a 5 Hp Briggs and Stratton or even the mighty 16 HP, White riding mower, complete with hydrostatic tranny and cup holder.

It’s a different story these days as I now take pride in cutting the grass. I’ve even gone so far as to purchase a mower with a bag and even bought a weed wacker to let those long blades of green surrounding my fence know who the boss is.
I’ll even spend time thinking about ‘how’ I want to cut my grass. Last week it was diagonally and the week before that I cut the yard in an ‘S’ fashion. This week it was checkerboard and next week I’ll attempt the crop circle.

And if you’re thinking that I don’t have much of a life, I’d have to agree with you and the worst part is I’m more than okay with that.