nonamedufus

From Africa comes a story that is sure to cause reverberations...or, perhaps, prevent them. The country of Malawi is tired of its citizens making a stink. Not in opposition to the government...just making a stink. The government of Malawi plans to punish persistent offenders who foul the air. You got it. No more farting in public. No farts for you! Can you imagine the reaction to such a law? I'll bet residents think it's the shits. After all, the government intends to muzzle freedom of expression. I wonder what happens to a muzzled fart? The mind boggles. And the eyes cross. No more tooting in the streets. And I'm not talking car horns. Of course, residents are skeptical as to how the new law will be enforced. Will there be a special fart force of Storm Poopers? And in public, how will they be able to tell just who the culprit is? To the cops' questions of "Who cut the cheese?" they'll never nail the nasal offender when everyone points at one another and s

Well it's been five weeks since I've seen her; since I felt her soft caresses on my body; felt her warmth next to me; experienced her suppleness and flexibility; let myself simply relax in her firm embrace. But I'm back, baby. And, boy, did I ever miss my couch. Let me tell you five weeks of intensive golf playing for a neophyte such as me has resulted in pain and fatigue in parts of my body I never knew existed. And that last week with my brothers Whitey - Sir Punsalot - and Killer - Sir Drinksalot - really put me over the top. We played 18 holes a day followed by 18 bottles a day. At that pace I'm kinda happy it was just a week. Not only is my body bent out of shape but my liver's crying "mercy". But it's nice to get back to reality (he tries to convince himself). This morning I powered up the MacBook to see what was happening in the world, and I must say I wasn't disappointed. First I see where a 33 year old woman in Buenos Aires took a 23 store

Well, one more day to go in golf heaven, otherwise known as Orlando Florida. It's been great getting together with my brothers Whitey and Killer, spending some quality time with them. Of course I'm talking about golfing, not drinking. Although, we've done a bit of that too. Last week we had a great time one night after having had dinner at the Flying Fish restaurant at Disney World. We strolled down the boardwalk to a place called Jellyrolls. Jellyrolls is a bar like no other I've seen. The entertainment is dueling piano players who take requests from the crowd. Dueling pianos. Well, Killer, his wife, Whitey and I decided to send up requests for songs by Canadian artists - the Barenaked Ladies, Brian Adams, and the like. After about the second or third request one of the piano players said to the crowd "Looks like we have some Canadians in the audience" whereupon we hooted and hollared. So the guy starts playing the Canadian anthem. Well we'd been having a

To Serve And Delay Why me? Why do these things always happen to me. Canada/U.S. relations hit a new low last night when I touched down in Miami en route to Orlando from Panama. I know our dollar's worth more than the American currency in the current economic smack down but, hey, do you have to take it out on me? So let me back up a bit. We left the condo in Bijoa Tuesday morning at 11:15, well in time for the two and-a-half hour drive to the airport. We made good time, traffic was good, we didn't get lost. We were humming our way through downtown Panama when from behind us we hear sirens. So we move over to the right lane. All of a sudden three police motorcycles whip by us in the left then one, whish, two, whish, not three, four, five but six dark windowed SUV's whip by us...and I mean they were moving. I'm thinking they're either shooting an instalment of Criminal Minds in Panama or that's the President's motorcade. Well, bringing up the rear were two guys

The day we drove my wife and Tante Poutine to the Tocumen Airport the other side of Panama City we were up with the birds. Their flight was around 1:30pm but it's a 2 hour drive and their charter company Air Transat tells you to be at the airport 3 hours in advance of your flight. We left Bejao for the airport about 6:15am. We off-loaded Poutine and Mrs D with their luggage along with my mother-in-law while my brother-in-law, his son and I made arrangements to trade our van in on a sedan. The deal done we met the departees on the departure deck. So, first step accomplished: arrive at airport on time. We knew it was too good to be true. Turns out the airline's computer's were down and all passengers and their luggage would have to be processed by hand. Luckily our two travellers were in Club class and were among the first passengers to be processed. There were tears all around, not on my part of course, and hugs and kisses as we said our goodbyes and waved to my wife and her

Hola amigos! We're often on the go here in Panama, driving one way or the other on the Pan Americana Highway to small towns to shop, have dinner, do some sightseeing and so on. The other day I even got my hair cut about 15 kilometres down the highway in Coronado - $8.65! When we drive I'm usually in the shotgun seat, so I take lots of pictures...of signs...sometimes with scantily clad women... OK, that last one wasn't at the edge of the road. But it's one of my favourite spots...the edge of the ocean. My month in Panama's quickly drawing to a close. Be sure to check out my last instalment of my Adventures in Panamaland this Tuesday.

The other morning I awoke with a start to the sound of the surf pounding upon the sand. It was 6:15am. I staggered sleepily out to the balcony and sure enough the waves were something to behold. I quickly got dressed, grabbed the camera and made my way between the horizon pools to the beach. From the balcony, the pools actually hide the beach and up until now the waves. But what moved me to preserve this Kodak moment was the fact that I could see the waves from the balcony this morning. When I arrived at the beach I beheld a sight of nature unleashed. The waves were crashing and the surf was rushing up the beach further than ever before. The bases of the thatch-roofed umbrellas were covered in water and one had even been knocked over by the constantly rushing water. I snapped my pics as the sun was rising and stood back and enjoyed the moment - a panoramic view of nature doing it's work. It was quite a start to the day. I was charged. Speaking of charged, when I returned to the c

Part of my rationale for a month's sojourn to Panama was to put those 3 golf lessons I took back in September to good use and finally play some golf. Mrs D and her aunt - Tante Poutine (her name is Jeanne but I call her poutine because she comes from Warwick, Quebec, the undisputed poutine capital of Canada) - hung out for two weeks and then headed back to cooler climes. -10 to -20C in Canada these days. Masochists! No, not really. Eskimos, maybe. For me this is a dream vacation. The best of both worlds. Two weeks in this Central American paradise with the wife, two weeks without her AND four weeks of golf. After all I have to hone my skills before I meet up with Whitey and Killer, the other Dufus dudes, for a fifth week in Orlando. Wait a minute. Bonus. Three weeks without the wife! I miss you honey. Heh, heh, heh, heh. So that's my plan. Practice golf for four weeks so I can show my brothers a thing or two. Luckily my brother-in-law's condo community has a golf cours

Before we carry on with updates about our ongoing adventures, I thought I'd share some pics that I couldn't post earlier. I hope you enjoy these, just a fraction of the pics I've taken so far. Stay tuned for more "Adventures in Panamaland"!

Life's been hard on our Panama holiday. My brother-in-law didn't get his internet installed until a little over two weeks after I got here. So I've been having withdrawals. I posted my first piece from Panama December 30th on the fly from an internet cafe - $1US for an hour! And I decided to leave my Blackberry at home. Anyway, let's continue with our adventures… When we first arrived at my brother-in-law's place at the Bijoa golf/beach resort on December 21st there was nary a soul other than us here. We'd spend a lazy day at the beach, play a round of golf or sit in the late afternoon glow of "happy hour" with hardly a sound to be heard. That all began to change around Christmas when we noticed with annoying frequency the loud buzzing of what might have been over-sized insects but were really Kawasaki 4 seater ATVs. They seem to be the mode of transport of choice of the Panamanian well-to-do who live in the complex. My brother-in-law says the units

There are times during our stay in Panama when I really identify with the title of that Robert Heinlein science-fiction novel Stranger in a Strange Land. I'm visiting a Spanish speaking country and apart from "si", "gracias", "hola", and "dos cervezas por favor" - the essential phrases, of course - I can't speak enough Spanish to get directions to the bathroom. On top of that Mrs D's family is French. Add in her mom's cousin and her husband who hail from Quebec's eastern townships and who visit once and awhile from the nearby Royal Decameron resort I'm totally lost. Sure, my wife, her brother and his son all speak English but when they all get going en francais, they're not gonna stop and translate for the poor old English square head. Of course, I guess I only have myself to blame as after years of french language lessons when I was a public servant - your tax dollars at work - I know about as much French as I do Spa

I'm on the fly posting from an internet cafe in Panama. Waiting for my brother-in-law to get his internet installed. Can't post pics for some reason but here's our next instalment...Happy New Year everyone! We've met some wonderful people on our trip to Panama, mostly through my brother-in-law who has met up with them while on previous visits. Juan Carlos and his wife Marcella are a delightful couple who live up the hill here. They have a striking house with the central part of the house's interior open to the skies. Out in the backyard they've got their own pool - like the 5 other pools on site aren't enough for them - and they have a fantastic view of the rest of the complex, overlooking all the residences below, the beach and the ocean. On New Year's eve they invited us to their place for a dinner party, along with about 45 other people. I was surprised that so many people spoke English. The neighbour next door, for example, was actually American an