Author: Rick Byers

In an earlier blog, I commented on the remarkable timing that Nature has in welcoming armchair quarterbacks during the most sports-action-filled time of year with an endless deluge of leaves reminding all who value their lives that there is one more ‘practice’ (the removal of the same leaves) to be completed before settling in for the start of the first half. 

And if this fact wasn’t enough to threaten the missing of the few opening bars of the national anthem and the associated frequent consumption of carbonated beverages (both major players in the hearts of men), somewhere in the near future lies the second half of the conspiracy to reduce your average, hard working man to a blithering, pathetic crybaby by springtime.                                                                                                                                            

Ladies – just the kind of pliable personality most appropriate for taking orders like fertilizing the front lawn until it is bedtime.

But I get ahead of myself.

The fact is that the second half of the conspiracy is much more subtle in its’ approach. We can forecast the pending advance but not always the intensity and volume of attack. And of course, there is always this notion in male minds that ‘maybe it won’t be as bad as they say.’

You’re right. It can be a lot worse.

And if you have not guessed what I am talking to you about by now, allow me to give you one last hint. It is white, cold and heartless, capable of piling up to soaring heights for the pure pleasure of watching you try and remove it, one shovel full at a time. Others would say that it is fun, fluffy and beautiful. But they are usually skiing or snowboarding down it. 

You know what I am talking about: a four letter word that cannot be said for the fear that it strikes in the hearts of all who live in residences with a driveway.

However, just like the leaves. the mere presence of the four letter word that cannot be said gives us great exercise for the upper body, shoulders, arms and legs.

And you can bet, after 4 to 5 months of contending with the four letter word that cannot be said, you will be falling over yourself for the opportunity to fertilize your front lawn.

And you will be in better physical shape to do it.

Maybe The Fall/Winter Conspiracy is not such a bad thing after all?

Next week:  Just a Chip Off the Old Salt

Have a week of good health.

Rick

One of the most beautiful and endearing films I have ever seen featured Kevin Costner as your average guy with a dream that he made come true because he believed he could. I am sure that many of your recall with fondness: Field of Dreams.

While the vision of famous baseball players disappearing and reappearing from a corn field is an appropriate notion for fall and baseball playoffs, another theme has emerged over the years that appears to have equal if not more appeal. In fact, I would notch this attraction up one because it provides you with an excellent way to get fresh air and exercise for hours. Furthermore, depending on how lost you get, there might be a nifty Alfred Hitchcock-type lead into Halloween for you.

Folks – Welcome to The Corn Maze.

Just imagine. It is a gorgeous, sunny autumn day.  The air is cool, requiring a jacket, but it is not too cold that a brisk walk won’t warm you up in no time. The kids are out with their friends for the day. It is a perfect time to take your favorite companion for an afternoon of reuniting with the simpler side of life that we normally drive past all summer. There is also a sweet smell to the corn that reminds some of us of memorable walks in the multicolored falls in Ontario or the Gatineau hills in Quebec.

Indeed – my favorite time of year.

To maximize enjoyment and minimize the potential for getting into trouble, please note the following. Advise your partner beforehand to wear waterproof footwear and heavy socks. Sometimes the path has puddles or is muddied by a lot of traffic. Wear a pair of jeans or pants that can afford to get splashed by flying mud or when you do a 4.5 Olympic Full Gainer into your partner’s left ankle. Wear a  jacket that can be burned after your outing. You may need a warm fire depending on how long you are out.

Have a positive attitude. Remember – it is a corn field; a beautiful example of humans harmonizing with nature from the sown seed to the grandeur of eight foot stalks that, if constructed properly, will hold you within their grasp for hours on end as you try to keep your blood pressure in check figuring out how to get out before Christmas.

Finally, remember that swearing, name calling (even if deserved), calling your lawyer and screaming are not permitted at any time.  Most important, you will have had a full afternoon (and perhaps evening as well) of exercise and fresh air.

Now – who is ready for a fresh cob of corn for dinner tonight?

No takers?

Next Week: The Fall/Winter Conspiracy

Have a week of good health.

Rick

 For the past few years, the transition from August to September has heralded the playing of that Christmas favorite so marvelously sung by Andy Williams: “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of Year.

While a particular retailer has utilized this song to portray the unbridled enthusiasm of parents preparing their equally unenthusiastic children for school, I ascribe to another interpretation, admittedly of particular interest to the males species of this planet and of which I humbly acknowledge my membership.

That’s right. It is that time of year where 99% of the male population (the other 1% is travelling somewhere on business) goes into For Your Eyes Only training camp.  And I am not talking James Bond here. This is a training camp to prepare for another season of a television-viewing gauntlet so ominous and so daunting that only ‘professional’ viewers can participate,  let alone survive.

 I am referring to the start of the CFL and NFL seasons, Hockey Night in Canada and the continuing of golf,  soccer, baseball and other popular sports too numerous to list in one blog.  And if it is not challenging enough to come up with the most bizarre, yet acceptable, excuse known to the universe to secure a seat on the couch for Saturday and Sunday afternoon matches, enter The Challenger:  

The leaves on the front lawn.

Never before has such an innocent and beautiful example of Nature been held in such dubious repute by millions of men throughout the globe.

“Hey – they looked fine on the tree. There was no need for them to change color and fall.”

Sorry – Nature does not work that way.

“And we are to believe that it is merely a coincidence that their falling on the ground and our requirement to pick them up just happens to occur during the Most Wonderful Time of the Year?”

Sure.

The conspiracy theorists (crazy sports fans) say that, in ancient times, women prayed to the gods of falling leaves in August as a loving reminder to men that they should be working and getting exercise beyond the sweet warm days of grass cutting and pleasant strolls around the block. These same conspiracy theorists have gone strangely missing but I would suggest that, the next time you are raking your front lawn, sift through your neighbor’s pile of freshly-raked leaves and we’ll talk.

Gentleman – Grab your rakes or you will miss the fourth quarter as well!

And before you utter one word against that exquisite piece of nature, think about the exercise you are getting and how it might add years to your life. 

I repeat – years.

Who’s leafing…I mean laughing now?

Next week:  AMAZEing Corn Fields

Have a week of good health.

Rick

Further to the plethora of modern equipment, weights and machines that we can access to maintain good health these days, I have another addition. To be honest, I cannot say it is new. I cannot even say it is a machine. It is white in colour, weighs about 6 to 7 lbs, can move about by itself and talks…er clucks at times.

Flash back to the 70’s. It is 2:30 am. An old beaten up Ford pick-up pulls into your driveway. You nod to the driver and get in. The two of you don’t speak while driving to your destination: a rectangular barn built of aluminum, 150 feet long, 100 feet wide and four stories high. Beside the barn, is parked a semi with a 60 foot long flatbed trailer.  There are rectangular crates piled 5 high on the flatbed.

There are 4 other guys waiting outside the barn. No one is talking. An older gentleman, clearly the owner, comes out of his house and leads everyone through a side door in the barn. You climb up the narrow, steep stairs until you reach the fourth floor. It is pitch dark for the exception of tiny red lights located at the ends of the room. The floor is solid white. You notice that it moves here and there. Now and then, you hear a soft clucking sound. The whole scene brings back sweet memories of childhood; Christmas morning and looking out of the living room window onto untouched rolling fields of freshly fallen snow from the night before.

“Ok boys – let’s go.”

You are returned to the present, bending down, putting three chicken legs in your left hand, then four in your right hand. Gently, you lift up the 7 chickens in their upside down position, walk with your load held slightly apart from your waist to an open hatch at the side of the barn. There, you hand over your 7 chickens to the truck driver. He puts them in one of the rectangular crates, adds 7 more from the fellow behind you, then closes the lid and stacks the crate.

This procedure is then repeated until all the chickens from the 4^th floor are loaded on the truck. Then the crew moves to the second floor and repeats the process. You continue this throughout the wee hours of the morning until you load all 4 floors of chickens onto the truck.  You have eight chicken catchers for twelve thousand chickens. It will take 4 to 5 hours depending on the experience of your crew.

From an exercise point of view, you have been working your arms and shoulders, knees, waist and back with weights between 18 and 24 lbs for quite an extended period of time. Certainly longer than your average gym trip. 

I was in the best shape of my life that summer.

And only ate red meat come to think of it.

Next week:  Fall Gardening and Even More Fresh Air
Have a week of good health,
 
Rick