It didn’t seem that long ago that as an active young man, I could take a stroll on a fall or winter day with an open jacket, but no hat, no gloves, no scarf and not really be any worse off for it. I felt pretty invincible to shifts in cold temperature.
In my younger days, back when I used to commute by bus, it aggravated me to no end when I’d get on the bus on a humid summer day and open a window to let in some fresh air only to have someone board the bus after me, start looking in all directions, displaying the international signs of “where is that draft coming from?”, only to zero in on my open window and ask me to close it.
Ever the pacifist, I would usually respect their wishes and accommodate them, despite the sweat dripping through my Risk Astley-style coif and down my forehead and temples. But on really muggy days, I’d have to propose a compromise and say “It’s really hot in here, I’d prefer it open. How about if I leave it half way?”
Fast forward a few decades, and I wonder where that kid went. Now it is my turn to be that guy who persistently chases drafts.
I come by it honestly as it seems to run in the family. I recall days when we would have family dinners at the restaurant, my grandparents would get there first to check out the table that was reserved for us, and choose their seats, based on the restaurant’s air currents. It was easier to do it that way, rather than for them to show up last, and have to reseat the table of 12 (or potentially, displace other restaurant patrons) to get draft-free seating.
Who can blame them? They didn’t like the unpleasantness of having a blast of cold air hitting them on the back of the neck or in the ears while trying to enjoy a nice meal. And I guess as we get older, some of us seem to get more sensitive to that factor, including me.
But I know that we are not alone. It doesn’t take an expert in body language to recognize the signs of someone offended by a draft. Continue reading
It's the Journey 
When Did Everything Become an “Experience”?
Just the same, as much as I bow to the wisdom of the marketing masters, I really don’t understand when or why everything suddenly became an “experience”.
Picking up something at the store has become a retail experience. Getting a bite to eat has become a dining experience. Music is now a listening experience and movies are now a viewing experience.
Did everything have to become an experience?
I was amused when I recently visited an establishment and noticed a poster prompting readers to tell management about their experience. The odd thing is that it was posted in the men’s washroom.
What would I have written back? Do they really want a description of my bathroom experience? (Careful what you wish for! Creative types with a sneaky sense of humour might actually take you up on the offer.)
“My approach to the urinal was a pleasant one as the aroma of disinfectant pucks filled my sinuses with a gentle, welcoming blend of lavender and chlorine.
The automatic flushing mechanism was very effective in bathing the urinal in a fresh cascade of water, reminiscent of a serene waterfall, a perfectly choreographed three seconds after I stepped away. I couldn’t have cued it better if I had flushed it myself. Continue reading →
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