Toronto is finally having its garbage picked up again. And now the city is paying overtime to some of the same outside workers who went on strike, in order to get the job done.
I think picking up garbage is an important job. Imagine life if it wasn’t done. (If you live in Toronto you don’t have to imagine it, you can simply remember it!) But it’s not a skilled job. Important means it must get done. Skilled means it requires special skills! Now these same workers who held out for the right to stockpile their sick days and cash them out at retirement are gathering overtime wages to do the job they refused to do until that demand was met. It’s disgusting and greedy of them. They’re no better than the corporate fat cats who continue to rake in big bucks while they toss out hundreds of employees. It’s no different. It’s an ‘all about me and screw everyone else’ mentality, too.
Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler is in hospital after falling on stage during the band’s concert in Sturgis, North Dakota. The sound system had failed during Love In An Elevator and Tyler was dancing around, entertaining the crowd. He fell over backwards and hurt his neck and back. Steven, we love you, but you’re 61! Your hip could snap like a twig, my friend. Years of substance abuse, although they’re behind you, certainly don’t help the state of your grizzled body. Next time, sit comfortably under a spotlight on a stool, preferably one with an Obusform back rest, and tell road stories. The Who’s Roger Daltrey, who’s heading out on a solo North American tour in the fall, should take note.
Perhaps the dumbest thing I’ve heard this week is the story of a family in Bristol, England. Their beloved dog ran away but instead of handing out flyers or calling shelters, this collection of DNA-linked fools decided to each pee in plastic containers and dribble their urine at various places around the city, in hopes the dog would recognize the scent and come back home. I’ve never heard of this as a working theory! It seems to me that if they had another dog, and it peed somewhere the lost dog could pick up the scent, that might have some merit. But people pee? Is it because their dog drinks out of the toilet? I don’t get it. Unravelling a family member’s used sweater and leaving yarn clippings in a trail that leads to the house makes more sense to me. So far I have good reason for my disbelief. The dog still hasn’t returned home.