Social Season

Socials are what make us unique from all the other provinces. They’re a great way to get your friends and family together and raise money for an engaged couple, a sports team or your favourite charity. In the spring, you run into someone trying to sell you a ticket almost daily.

Your $10, essentially a cover charge, will get you entry to the party, where you’ll have the opportunity to purchase alcoholic drinks at a cheaper price than at your favourite watering hole. Plus, if the chips and pretzels on the tables don’t help soak up some of that booze, you can take advantage of the late lunch of luncheon meats, rye bread, pickles and cubed cheese. Fill up your paper plate, because for some reason those late-night sandwiches seem to taste better than any other snack.

The main focus of any social is definitely the music. Take it from a former music-man, playing the tunes isn’t an easy job. You have to try to please hundreds of people of different ages. Chances are the seniors will complain that the music is too loud (based mainly on their proximity to the speakers) or that the DJ hasn’t played any polkas or an old-fashioned waltz. The latter might work on Dancing with the Stars, but not at socials!

Nowadays, the big moneymaker is the prizes. There’s usually about 20 or so prize baskets and another five stand-alones, like a bar fridge or barbecue. A $20 bill will probably only get you enough tickets to put one in every second paper bag. Oh what the hell, you know your money is going to a good cause. Then right at midnight, the hall lights flick on and it’s time to pull out your half of the tickets. As your eyes adjust to the small print, you realize that there are a lot less people in the venue... oh wait, the seniors must have gone home early. Now that’s a good social!

Tom says...

If, as Joe just explained, social season is coming to a close, another is upon us—lawn care season. It’s going to be a whole new game for me this year. Let me start by saying, it sounded like a good idea at the time.

We had a service remove snow and cut our grass for a number of years. Periodically, I would mention to my wife, Special K, that I was sure I could provide those services myself, since we only have about 10 square feet of lawn to cut and an equal amount of driveway to clear.

Each time I brought up my availability, it was met by sidesplitting laughter from both Special K and Shane, the lawn/snow guy. I would soon find myself joining in, and eventually retire to the deck with a beer to watch Shane cut the lawn.

I should have left a good thing alone. But no, there was still something bugging me about having someone else do these two chores. I believe it had something to do with my manhood. This caveman should be able to provide for and protect his family and cut his own lawn! What kind of a guy was I to let someone else do it? If this keeps up, I might as well step aside as he takes Special K to dinner and the kids to their sporting events! “Look at you. What have you let yourself become?”

I said to myself. Get out there and cut the grass, you wimp.

As it turns out, that wasn’t as easy as I thought. I discovered that Shane, the lawn guy, had all sorts of tools that made the lawn look so good. Hole punching things, someone referred to as being for ‘aeration,’ which I originally thought had something to do with flying; some sort of power rake that didn’t resemble anything my Dad ever had; edge trimming weed-whackers that seemed to work at the speed of light; and lawn mowers so cool-looking, they must have come from NASA. As well, he would roll out all the extras like wheelbarrows, fertilizer spreaders, picks, and shovels and other assorted poles with things on the end, whose purpose remain unknown to me.

I was reminded of that great line delivered by Jack Nicholson, as the Joker, in one of the Batman movies, when he marveled at the caped crusader’s gadgets by exclaiming, “Where did he get all those wonderful toys?” I didn’t even have a lawn mower.

I really think I would have negotiated a good deal on a used lawn mower from the guy who advertises he sells them by having one bolted to the side of the building he’s in. It really looks like it’s coming out of the wall. And we all know you’re never too old to think that looks cool. However, everyone thought I’d be best served by a new one.

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So I’ve got to go and get out there again. If I’ve learned anything this spring, it’s these two things: first, my grass grows like a weed–something, my wife reminds me, that didn’t happen when Shane was taking care of the lawn.

And secondly, for the price I paid for this new mower, I could have had Shane over with all his wonderful toys, taking care of the lawn for several more years.