The Green Red Green (20 page)

I
heard on the news that one day over the next few months, several of the planets are going to align themselves with Mars (which I think was a hit for the Fifth Dimension). It occurred to me that some cult leader is going to predict that day will be the end of the world. And he’s going to say that we should all prepare.

I’m not exactly sure what that means. I wouldn’t know what to pack for a world termination. I guess something loose-fitting and some sensible shoes. Okay, that’s a little glib, but I don’t honestly think the world-ending thing is going to happen. So instead of expecting the rest of us to prepare for the world to end, I suggest these fanatics prepare for the world not to end. What then? What if we hit the stroke of midnight and there’s no horrific conflagration? Don’t you think they should prepare for that? Maybe it’s time to engage in a new activity. Might I humbly suggest rational thought?

I
don’t know whether this is a male thing, but I find I do my best work and make my best efforts when I’m in trouble. When everything’s going well and I’m cruising, I just let it all slide, but
as soon as my boss is making threatening noises or my wife pulls out her suitcase or the police start nosing around, that’s when I get it together. I’m also nicer when I’m behind the eight ball. When things are going well, I get arrogant because to me that’s what success is all about.

Why do we men have such a strange behavioural pattern? I think when you boil it all down, it stems from the inner conflict between being congenitally lazy but not wanting to look like an idiot. That’s why competition works. It’s not about winning—it’s about the fear of losing and letting the world in on your lack of personal proficiency and work ethic. They say if you want to get something done, take it to someone who’s busy. I say if you want to get something done, take it to someone who’s in deep trouble.

T
he food chain has been in existence for millions of years, and it works well. I think we should apply the same approach to our levels of conspicuous consumption. We need a possession chain—a table that shows us the order of acquiring products and services. For example, the possession chain might tell us to start with a toaster and then move up, in time, to a toaster oven and eventually to a microwave. Starting with a microwave is in conflict with the laws of nature and will lead to unhappiness and badly burnt popcorn.

Similarly, if you live in a $250,000 home, you shouldn’t be driving a $300,000 car. It will only make you unhappy. Or at least it will make the person you live with unhappy, which will eventually affect you through the trickle-down theory.

Here’s a rough guide to the order in which men should spend their money: home, car, boat, motorcycle, snow machine, riding
mower, Sea-Doo, bush buggy, hovercraft, backhoe, helicopter, new suit, divorce lawyer.

O
ver the years, the phrase “kind of” has made its way into our vernacular. The meaning of the phrase is not completely clear, and I think you have to use it with caution. Here is a list of questions for which the answer “Kind of” is inappropriate:

M
en have been under a lot of pressure for the last thirty years or so to get more in touch with their feelings. To be more sensitive and let their feminine side come out. I guess it’s a good thing. My wife’s all for it, so that’s pretty much the clincher around our house.

But there have been some downsides. That whole strong, silent macho man has been replaced by a bunch of gushy guys who
dance just a little too well for my liking. And men who ordinarily never say anything have got in touch with their feelings, only to realize that their feelings are hurt. So they start whining. About everything. It’s amazing how hundreds of years of repressed self-expression can explode into tirades on everything from the weather to squeegee kids.

Let’s be careful how we use this newfound sensitivity. Some of the best male actors ever were a lot better in the silent movies than they were in the talkies.

T
he expression “dumbing down” is one I hear a lot these days. And people are worried about it. They consider dumbing down to be a form of pandering to the lowest common denominator, and the implication is that people are so stupid these days, you have to lower your intelligence level to speak to them.

I don’t agree. I think the average person is smarter than ever before in history. You have to be. You have to be able to communicate with computers. The manuals are three inches thick, so there’s a clue. Nobody from the Middle Ages or even the Industrial
Revolution could have handled that. They couldn’t even remember their PINs. We’ve got voicemail, email, faxes, wireless, two-way, electronic ticketing, and on and on.

We’re not dumb. We’re smart. But we’re tired of being smart. We need a break. We need to be dumb once in a while so our brains don’t cramp. And if these big technology companies weren’t run by nerds, they’d understand that. Thinking is necessary, but it’s not fun. That’s why smart people are boring at parties. So get with the program. Think for show but dumb down for dough.

T
echnology has allowed me to pick up some new bad habits. One of them is voicemail. If I’m too busy to answer the phone, I don’t. I just let it kick over to voicemail with the idea that I’ll call the person back later. Sometimes I even check the caller ID to make sure it’s nobody important. Once in a while, I check the messages and then resave them because I’m too busy to call back right then. It’s like the PVR. I don’t have time to watch the shows I like, so I tape them, only to find out I don’t have time to watch them later either.

The fundamental problem here is that technology doesn’t slow down time. We don’t need voicemail and email and other “advancements” that allow us to postpone commitments. We need a way to stretch time so we can do everything we want. Without that, I’m going to have to cut down on the number of television shows I like, and also on the number of friends and associates who call me and leave messages.

I’m starting to get the feeling that technology’s ultimate goal is to prevent us from having friends and fun.

Y
ou may pretend to be young and in the know, but be careful. Certain actions can give you away. Here are six to watch for:

I
n the winter, the government puts so much salt on the roads that your car turns into a bag of chips. Rust chips. And come spring, when the chips are down, you’ll be sitting there with a bare chassis, which is not only embarrassing but also against the law.

Now, the normal solution is to cover the rust with fibreglass, but there’s a lot of work and expertise involved with that, and that puts it outside of our capabilities. So I’d like to take a fresh approach to the problem of resurfacing your automobile. I’d like you to think about linoleum. It’s strong, durable, and lightweight,
and if you ever get into a fender bender, a good-quality cushion floor could save your life. And it’s easy to install using duct tape.

Linoleum is also very cheap, especially if you can use samples and roll ends like I do. It’ll take you only a few hours on a Saturday afternoon—or any day, really—to install. But I think you’ll be surprised and even amazed at the way this looks when it’s all done.

And the finish comes up real nice when you use a floor polisher on there. That’s more of a pride thing, though, because most linoleums have the no-wax finish, so you can just mop up any odd spill you get on it, especially if it’s stuff from the kitchen, like eggs thrown at you by teenagers out of pure jealousy. That’s what that is.

But what you’ll have is a one-of-a-kind automobile that looks good enough to dance on. I’m sure some of you young professionals out there will be wanting to try hardwood or ceramic tiles, and if so, go right ahead. The technique is basically the same.

W
e’ll all eventually come to the day when we get so old we flunk our driver’s test and are no longer allowed to drive a car. This can be a major blow to the ego, so I say start preparing to beat the system now. Buy a house in a golf community on waterfront property. Then get yourself a powerboat and a golf cart—things that don’t require licences. And on your ninetieth birthday, drop a racing engine into the golf cart. Then cruise the neighbourhood trying to pick up women. Preferably golfers.

A
s I get older, I find that I’m not as quick to respond as I used to be. And I don’t just mean in the bedroom. I mean conversationally. I remember the days when somebody would ask a question or make a controversial statement and I’d jump in there with both feet to express my opinion. I don’t do that anymore. My enthusiasm for saying what I think has been dampened by experience.

A married man or anyone in middle management will tell you that there is great value in silence. The person who’s talking to you will assume you’re thinking very carefully about your response. She’ll find that flattering. She doesn’t need to know that you’re actually trying to conceal your response and are taking extra time hoping she’ll forget the question. If you ever have to testify in court, your lawyer will tell you to take your time and think over your answer carefully before you speak. That’s good advice for daily living because you are on trial constantly.

And as soon as you testify, you have to be prepared for cross-examination.

I
t’s always good when you can take something unpleasant and find value in it. Like being at a family reunion and finding that cousin who owes you money. So I was thinking that if you commute to the Big Smoke every day and are stuck in traffic for hours at a time, that’s an excellent opportunity to shop for a car. You see which ones have the best acceleration. And brakes. And then acceleration again. You see which ones handle the best when switching lanes quickly or going into a four-wheel drift on the
gravel shoulder. If you see a car pulled over in a radar trap, that means it has a good engine but poor visibility.

You also get a chance to do a market survey. For example, if you see a preponderance of Hondas, that means they’re popular and probably have good resale value, and you’ll always be able to find parts, even at the side of the road.

So instead of cursing rush hour, use it to do research for your next automotive purchase. (This technique works best when done from the window of a commuter train.)

T
here are times in life when it’s better to keep moving. In fact, you might want to pick up the pace in situations like the following: