Friday, December 10, 2010

We are all a little bit crazy.

I was downtown Winnipeg, Manitoba today with my Grandkids. An old man was walking down the street. Every few steps he would do a spin, a turn around and he didn't miss a step. I at first thought he was getting away from the cold wind. It was about minus 29 with the wind chill this morning, so it was cold. He kept doing the twirl as he walked, so I decided that guy is crazy.

It is funny how we like to think each of us is crazy. We have our little quirks that we like to do, that someone else may think 'that guy is crazy'. I like to say "those bastards" when a story is told. (Craig Ferguson, that bastard has stole my line on his late late night show) My wife will tell me a story of just about anything and I will answer with those bastards. She was telling me to stop it this morning as I was driving her to work. My grandson and granddaughter, the boy and grandgirl; Jackson - meeya were in the car. Boy can only say a couple of things, like papa and doon touch. So my wife figured his next sentence will be "doon touch you bastard".  I say those bastards as my "yoohoo". The Elders in the Reserve would answer a story with yoohoo, to let you know they were listening and it wasn't questioning the story like it may sound. It is to acknowledge that I am listening.

I am not crazy but I do get quirky about certain things. I will get on a kick. Like a frying pan kick. I will look for them, buy them if I have money. Years ago it was a bag kick. I liked to get bags, like gym bags. Cheap ones if I could get them. A couple of years ago it was brooms, this summer it was socks. I don't go over-board with the stuff but like to make sure we have them. I gets in my mind and I look out for them.

So this crazy guy that was walking is kind of cool. He makes a twirl as he is walking and it looks good on him. Just like those people that have really good conversations with themselves in public.

Now that's crazy. :D


  1. Hello, I happened to stumble across your blog as I was researching for my history ISP.
    If it is of no inconvenience to you, I would like to pose some questions about... life in general, I suppose. I hope I don't come across as insensitive or anything, I am merely curious.
    How is life on a reserve, and is it really as difficult or horrible as news reports claim they are? Reading one of your posts, I came under the impression that you have spent time in the cities. Would you say that it is easier
    to live in the city?
    What the news reports don't really tell us is how people actually live; they tell you everything but leave you feeling like you know nothing.
    Oh, I agree that people have quirks, and although everyone might think of them as weird, to someone out there, it may be an endearing quality. Just my two cents on this. And lastly, I would just like to add that your grand-kids are adorable. And your ramblings are nice and easy to read, unlike the stuff I have to deal with on a daily basis. It's very relaxing.

    If you aren't offended, please send me an email. My address is

  2. Thank you for the post. I do stay in the city right now, but go back home all the time. It is close for me. The city has a huge, huge native population and a lot of my relatives live here as well. There are over 600 Reserves in Canada. Each is unique, and the situations are similar but there are many differences as well. It is not a simple answer to describe the Reserve life. I can only talk about my own experience. That is what I try to do here.