Different Strokes for Different Folks

Being part of NERR for so long has changed my way of looking at this planet.

Chatting, reading, and even meeting some of you people has taught me to be careful about how I say or write this column. What is a “no-no” in one place is common practice in another.

Now I always thought of Americans as being prudish in their language. For instance, the famous F-word is a definite “no-no” on American TV sitcoms, but, on the other hand, if you took the same word away from American films, you’d cut the dialogue by 70%. In Canada, if you take the F-word away from English-Canadian TV there will be NO MORE English-Canadian TV.

The way different parts of the world see sex, politics, religion etc. is as varied as there are regions. And, unless you’re a globe-trotter, you can easily have misconceptions about various nationalities.

Now why the heck am I saying all this? Because of a book. An American book written in 1951 that I read only last week! “The Catcher in the Rye” by J.D. Salinger. Now I hope my American friends will forgive my ignorance, but I don’t know J.D. Salinger. All I know is that I’ve often seen mention of this bookand I was always intrigued by the title: “The Catcher in the Rye”.

For instance, newspapers made a big thing out of the fact that Mark Chapman was reading this book before killing John Lennon. In other occasions, somebody would mention this book like “classic of American writing.”

So I read it.

Now what surprised me was the writing style of this fellow Salinger. We’re talking about 1951 here - 54 years ago. Very modern and quite crude for the period. Enough to change my way of writing this piece. Many taboos fell because of the language displayed in this novel. Words like ass, son-of-a-bitch, goddamn, hell, etc. Words I thought were not used in American pre-fifties literature. Words I believed would shock readers out of their socks. Words that I unfortunately hear every day on TV, on the radio, on films, in books ... Everywhere!

But in 1951? Seemed OK then, so why not now? Why not use this back road speech in my column? Why not use this “foul” and abusive language in the NERR forums??? Is it because we are all adults who respect each other? Is it because we have enough vocabulary that we do not need to use these words? Is it because NERR grew into something that is too important to jeopardise by dumb insults and low class dialogue?

Maybe.

Now I see on the forum many new engineers, and I welcome them all. You will see here at NERR something that is a rarity today - friends.

But not any kind of friends, virtual friends who respect each other so much that we have a very strict “no-politics allowed in the forums” rule. This is VERY important to remember. No politics. We don’t give a hoot about your political opinion here, be it you’re pro-this or anti-that … Take it somewhere else! We too have political opinions, but we have learned to keep those issues out of NERR.

Sometimes you might come upon a joke or an opinion that, to your standards, is a little salty. Let it be. Remember, what is right in my neck of the woods is not necessarily right in yours.

 Unfortunately, this “special” rule about politics has caused us to lose a few friends. Too bad! Maybe someday they’ll understand and come back.

You see, we’re a bunch of fun-train-joke-loving guys, and like Cindy Lauper said: “all we want is to have fun”. Enjoy the ride, sit back and relax. We have shrunk the globe and are having the time of our lives. You have friends from all over the world now. Even some living upside down!

And by the way, now I know what the title of the book is all about. The catcher in the rye. Want to know? Read the book.

 So as not to make my “across the big pond” friends jealous, I also discovered Ian Rankin this month. You can keep him.

Time for a ……. Well you know!

As you all know ... I was babysitting for a few days while a new grandson was busy being born. And I was at his house, not mine.

I’m a doer. I don’t sit down very long. I tend to the horses, surf the net, test activities for the NERR, run my flower business, renovate the house, etc. etc. Now here I am a zillion miles from home with nothing to do but play with my grandson.

Now don’t get me wrong - playing with a 2 year old is fun,  and I adore the little tyke ... But all day long for four days! There is a limit to what you can do with such a young child.

There is no OFF switch on these kids. I played ball. I played hiding and seeking. I played drumming on the sofa. I played run-around-the-room. I played run-around-grandma. I played horsey. I played keekoo. I played dead. I played throwing-stuff-around.

All great games when you're 2 … but … taking off my socks and throwing them at the TV screen while running, and then putting them back on and starting over again for 40 minutes is not my favourite pastime.

Reading a 6 page book with 2 words per page 94 times is not my cup of tea.

Walking around the room while holding hands with a 7 inch Spiderman, or looking at a TV show where everybody is dressed like patchwork and talking like rubber room permanent residents is not grandpa material.

Going to the can accompanied by the little guy because he wants to flush the toilet is definitely not normal.

Watching a 45 minutes Teletubby video in which every sentence is repeated 3 times, in which every sentence is repeated 3 times, in which every sentence is repeated 3 times can drive anybody to the funny farm, or viewing one which features a grapefruit lost in the meat department making friends with a t-bone steak and a piece of liver is tough on morale.

Now you can go play outside but … it takes about 15 minutes to dress the little guy, and as soon as you open the door, he decides to fill his diaper with 10 pounds of nose-melting digested goo that makes horse manure smell like Chanel No. 5. So you have to go back inside, undress the bundle, change the diaper and re-start the whole procedure. By the time you finally get outdoors you’re sweating like a 45 year old horse with double pneumonia!

Now my grandson has a little train set made by Fisher-Price. Now this is a very basic, simple toy. All plastic. A few feet of tracks, a few Fisher-Price style buildings, and three cars pulled by a little remote-controlled engine. The thing runs on 6 AAA batteries that have a life expectancy of 3 minutes, so it costs more to run this toy train than running a full-sized GP 38. The train goes forward and stops. Man, what fun! No reverse. Now this kind of toy is cool if you are anywhere between the ages of 3 and 3-and-a-half. You will probably have fun and really enjoy it. At my grandson’s age, two, it will captivate you for about 43 seconds, and then you will start playing with the box it came in. At my age (57), after 2 minutes of watching the little train go round and round the 2 foot oval, you start wondering if this would not be a good time to clip your nose hair.

So I set up the thing and took the thing apart in 17 minutes flat and came to the conclusion that what these kids need is one grandpa who, ASAP, is going to buy a real train set and build it up slowly until the kids are old enough to inherit it, which I figure should be at around the age of 34! While we wait for the grandsons to reach that age, grandpa will have it running to make sure it’s safe for them to play with. Now this is where the fun begins! How to have grandma see the advantage of the venture? Hummmm! Heavy-duty negotiations coming up.

... o O o ...

I am now the proud owner of ………….. a STOP sign. That’s right. My very own STOP sign.

What happened is the road was slippery, my trucked skidded, and bang! ... destroyed a stop sign before ending up in the ditch.

Now I did not know this, but in my country, when you hit something that belongs to the government, you have to file an accident report. So I did.

So they sent a crew to change the sign and the post and … I got the bill. $450.00. Not the bargain of the day but … you gotta pay, so I did.

So now I have my very own STOP sign. I think next summer I’m going to paint it green.

WHY NOT, I PAID FOR IT! I’ll send you a picture.

Time for a beer … a big one!

6 January 2006

A New Year's Resolution ...

When my friend John took over the RR (Roundhouse Ramblings or whatever), I volunteered to write a monthly column. Over the first few months I produced my column regularly, and then I started slacking and producing every few months ... Why? I just this morning found out why? To explain I have to go back. Follow me. I write - this is easy for me. I sit down at my computer, put my fingers on the keyboard and bingo ... words appear on the screen. And, lucky for me, people like what I write. I make them laugh, cry, think, get mad, etc. Now I've had the privilege over the years of writing for different publications. I had a regular column in an agriculture magazine here in Quebec, one regular column in a French paper specialising in sheep farming in France called Pâtre, maybe Olaf can check if this publication still exists. I had a column in a Genealogical thing called Les Ramures, and the list goes on and on ...

Now every time I had a column it was in a specialised publication, and I would write things on or around this specific subject. And every time I would run out of juice after a few months or years. I ran out of things to talk about on the specific subject. Are you following? That's the problem. You can say so much about a subject, and then the well runs dry. So as a New Year resolution I decided to write EVERY SINGLE MONTH in RR, but to write what I want. I will not worry if I'm talking trains or not, I will just try to get you, the reader, laughing, crying, mad, etc. Now of course this is my decision. If the boss can not agree with this, then I will close shop. Bang! No more column from me. No hard feelings. I love you anyway. How's that? Oh, and another thing. I'm fueled by feedback. I told you this once before, and I'm telling you again. I need feedback. Positive, negative, compliments, crap, whatever you feel like dishing out - go ahead, but give me something! Very important.

On with the show ... you are reading this in January 2006, I'm writing it in December 2005 ... so how was Christmas?.... get any goodies?

In the forums lately ... I told you about a spooky story concerning how my deceased father keeps helping me from beyond. Well, reading back on that story got me to thinking about my dad ,and how his death, even if I was almost 50 at the time, really affected me. Goes to show how important being a dad is an important job, maybe the most important job in the world, and there's no training for it. Weird and dangerous.

Now be warned ... this will be getting mushy. If you don't like mushy ... stop reading now. Just in case you have not read my forum post A SPOOKY STORY, and even if you did, I think it is fitting to reprint a little part of that story. The one concerning the relation men of my age (57) bracket had with their fathers.

From the forum:
«One day 10 years ago my father decided to die. Just like that. Goodbye world, have fun, I'm stepping off. Now if you were born before the 50s, you will understand the kind of relation I had with my father - a mutual love that none of us dared to show each other. It was not masculine to show love to your children in those days. If you don't recognize yourself in this pattern, you are a lucky person. The father was a guy who came for supper, was served first, and who then disappeared either into the basement or in front of the TV. On week-ends, he stayed around to mow the lawn, fix what was broken, and nap in the afternoon. Any sign of love or affection to any of his household was a sign of weakness. Crying or showing any sentiment at all was a sure sign of a mental illness. This was a person who worked hard, fed his family well and so deserved respect. « 

So then, like stated, he died ... and I lost it. There I was, a 47 year old little boy crying for his daddy. I had 47 years to tell him I loved him, and I didn't. Shit! What I didn't know but found out after was that he was as pissed off about it as I was. We never got around to tell each other how much we cared. So, after his death, I started sensing his presence around me; he was actually helping me, guiding my hand, and fixing what I did wrong. Sometimes small things but sometimes VERY big things. Now the story about the « tool behind the freezer » is one of the small things. Spooky but cute. He even had a tornado work in my favor!! Maybe one day I'll tell you about it! If you're nice :)

To finish off on a lighter side ... we (the acting company I am presently working with) have been presenting a play called 7th Heaven in different theatres in Quebec for the past 2-3 years. This is a comedy in which this 65 year old bachelor marries an old maid of 60. They are straight out of the 40s. They are a very ODD COUPLE! For example, he almost cancels the wedding because he doesn't know what to do with his hands when he kisses her. The stories evolves around this main theme with preparations for the big day. It is very funny.

I play a swinging 65 year old bachelor who constantly makes fun of this weird couple. I make jokes about their attire, their attitude and their clumsiness. One of the highlights of the show is when the bride and groom parade their wedding outfits. This gets a huge laugh from the crowd and even an occasional ovation. His suit is a baby-blue-colored three piece with black velvet lapels. Pants are 5 inches too short, and he's wearing a top hat ... also baby blue. We've played for fund-raisings, for corporate affairs, and even for high school kids. Now, of course, different publics have different reactions. The younger people laughing at the « square » attitude of the older generation and the more mature laughing at the more or less salty jokes about marriage and man and woman relations. Last week we played before an audience of elderly in a retirement home. For the first time in 2-3 years, it was a gigantic flop! I don't know if you ever watched television with an old person, but if you did you surely noticed that they have a tendency to forget that what they are seeing is virtual. They will give out loud remarks and even talk to the actor on TV. They will get mad at certain situations that happen on the show and can even become violent and throw something at the TV set. I know, I've seen my mother throw an ashtray at the screen, because an actor on a soap was abusing a woman. Cost her a TV set. Well this is exactly what happened with these people and our play. They thought we were for real. They were talking to us during the show, and all the jokes fell flat. They thought the wedding attires were very nice. They even applauded as the actor stepped out, and they got real mad at me for sneering. Almost turned into a riot! I could see the front page: « Actor attacked by 90 year old hoods. » We had a ball. At the end when we come out for the applause, somebody threw a purse at me.

Well ... time for a beer.

Aaahhh!!! Technology is Great!!

Sorry Bill! I for one am going the non-Microsoft way. Firefox for the web, Thunderbird for mail, and now OpenOffice for writing, spreadsheet, database etc. And all these are FREE! No trial period, no non-complete programs. All these programs are free and complete. Stick this up your blowpipe, uncle Bill!

I hate computers! I've been around computers since the beginning. I had a Timex Sinclair (2k) a Commodore 64, an IBM PS2, a Something 386, another Something 486, a P III and now a P IV. I worked DOS, probably all the versions, I worked with Windows 3, 95, 98, and now XP. This makes me an expert on computers.............. yeah! Right!

I've driven a car for 40 years, and when I open the hood, all I see is wires and dirty junk. And I can truly state that I'm a dum-dum when it comes to computers. So when it comes time to do something a bit complicated, I get nervous and dumber than a dried-up raisin. Once in a while I, like probably everybody else, have to format my main drive. Now, for me, formatting a drive is as much fun as having your tonsils pulled out by a drunk plumber. I get so nervous that I make stupid mistakes and finally end up losing half of my data. This week I'm formatting.......sheesh! I hate computers. I had the same toaster for 29 years, never had to format it and it still works fine. I once got so frustrated I spit on my screen.... now that is bright! Had to wipe the whole thing..... yecch!

I also hate what they did with cars. You know, today there's all the electronic stuff under the hood. Last year my truck started acting funny. He'd run fine for a few miles and then stop. After a 5 minute wait, he'd start again and run for another few miles, and so on. A 50 mile trip took hours, so I took it in for repair at my favourite garage.

"It's the module!" said the mechanic, showing me a piece of plastic about 10 inches long, 6 inches wide with a blue wire going in and a red wire coming out the other side. The whole thing is moulded into a solid block. That's it. One big brown thingy with 2 wires. Cost: $450. For all I know, inside this block is nothing - air, or maybe a 10 cents fuse. $450!! So here is this man, a perfect stranger with greasy hands, showing me a brownish "thing" and telling me that if I want to drive my automobile again, I must pay $450 plus installation. Now of course, as we all know, the hourly rate of anybody that does anything you can't do yourself is something like a zillion dollars a minute. In conclusion, 678.96$ later I'm driving my truck with a brand new block of nothing under my hood. I think I hate cars too!

Gasoline prices have gone up....gives a plus-value to my horse!

Rolling Stones and I....were in Moncton New Brunswick. Me on holiday, Mick working. 62 years old Mick Jagger, the body of a teenager, waistline 24, he sang and jumped around for 90 straight minutes. I run out of breath washing my teeth. I think I hate Mick Jagger too!

Trains, MSTS...yes, the main subject of this website, and here I am talking about everything but. Actually I must confess that I'm a little pressed for time so...y'know, the trains, well, y'know, gotta get back to it. Now which key is it to stop this thing?

Almost forgot! vNERR turned 3 this month. Happy Birthday to vNERR and everybody having anything to do with it, and most of all thank you for 3 wonderful years of pure honest fun. I still hate computers but vNERR......well, it sorta soothes the pain!

Time for a beer!

I'm  Back!!

Well, another spring has passed, flowers have been produced and sold, and greenhouses emptied. So it’s back to the NERR for another mid-summer-fall-winter season of train-simming, bull sh***ing - and fun!

Boy! I really love this place. I usually return to my F-team duties before writing my first column of the season but ... this year is different … I feel like writin’ before railin’!!! (Does it show when I’m on the ‘puter at 4:30 a.m.??)

Now, as you all know, I’m off MSTS for 4 months a year to tend to my business. If you’ve never been off MSTS for such a long period of time, you can’t imagine how hard it is for one to get back to speed after such a long time. And to make things tougher, my F-team boss (Brian, aka "The Arm") is a kinda workaholic who spends all of his leisure time improving what he himself has improved yesterday. So when I get back, I have to read all his posts to try to figure out how, in just a few months, my F-team job has evolved, what am I supposed to do, and how am I supposed to do it? Now most of the time, I’m finished catching u,p and I still don’t understand all the improvements to the system. Last year, it took so long for me to savvy all this info that the flower season was back, and I still wasn’t up to par.

So this year, I checked the forum every day to try to follow ……………. Now I’m even more confused!!! NETS, NEW NETS, NEAWOS, the NEW NEAWOS ………. I hope I figure out all the new stuff before 2008!!! AND THE WORST PART IS ……….. all this new stuff is GREAT! This is part of what makes NERR so extraordinary! Guys like Brian (he’s the one on the left on his avatar in the NERR forums - shown on the right here) and the likes are responsible for making this web site THE web site that you and I are hooked on! I’m trying to figure out if we should hate them or love them! Every single day for the past 3 years, I have been at least once on this site checking the forums. I get up in the morning, and this is the first thing I do - check the forums for unread posts … Then I pee!

Surely you know about the bat and I? If you’re still interested, the episode is over … for now … Bat is gone … Wife is back … Tiger won! (In that order). (Ed. See below for the bat story.)

One Friday night, a few weeks back, I got old!!! Needed new jeans! The shopping mall was full. Now, I have a routine when I go to the mall. I start with a "reconnaissance" tour of the place. I keep to the right, go all the way to the end of the mall and come back on the other side. Then I dash to the place I saw selling what I want at the price I can afford, go in, try for fit, buy and get out. I was on my start-up tour when I started noticing the people around me … kids! 5000 people in the shopping centre, age average ……… 18!!!! I felt like I was 107 years old. 5000 flat-bellied kids as far as the eye could see, and one old me ... I felt like a chewed-up bone sitting in the middle of a fine-cuisine buffet! The sales-people were younger than my running shoes! Not one gray hair to be found for miles around! Young girls were smiling at me … not flirting - they were amazed that I was up so late … it was past 8pm you know! You know, when it seems everybody is looking at you like you had a third eye or something. I kept checking my fly to make sure it was zipped up. So I went home, came back on a Tuesday morning - all those kids were at work or still in bed, and the mall was full of old geeks like me …….. it felt good and comfy!

I envy JohnH so much that …… this month I’m going on 2 different trips. One for pleasure (golf in Toronto), and one for pleasure (seaside cottage in New Brunswick - ). Did you know that the company running the Air Miles promotion have asked John to give them a break?

The Internet is a very bad place to make friends …… because sometimes they vanish, and you don’t know why. We’ve had people here at NERR who were very active on the forums and everywhere else and all of a sudden …… Pouf! They’re gone! No warning, no message, nothing, they just disappear. Sometimes a wife or a friend will come online and tell us that "Joe asks me to tell you that he is very sick and can’t play with you for a little while." That’s cool, at least we know that Joe isn’t dead. But what about the other ones, the ones who have wives that don’t know about computers, who can’t fill us in on the reason why one of our friends is missing. Because people at NERR are friends just as much as people who see and touch each other. We are a bunch of mushy yo-yos here. If one member posts about a coming operation, he gets dozens of "get well soon" messages and prayers from us. If one’s cat dies, we all cry with him and share his grief. We are real friends here. We care for one another probably more openly than in real life. So for God’s sake people, if you decide to leave, please tell us, we want to know. You can get tired of the game, the people, or whatever, but you owe us at least a goodbye. Don’t leave us here wondering what happened. I could name at least a dozen guys who came here, made their mark and left without a &%%$#& (insert favorite bad word here) goodbye. Now that is cheap! Here, free of charge, copy the following and if you decide to go, come on the forum and paste it: "I am leaving NERR because (insert reason). Bye to all, I really enjoyed being part of this virtual community" Voilà! This way we know you are not dead. We will miss you ,but at least we will know that you are still on this planet, and who knows … you might come back!

The News Page was out for a few weeks … and then when John announced it would be back, a bunch of guys posted to say how they liked the paper and were happy to see it back. To those guys I say: BRAVO! You are starting to understand what fuels a voluntary staff on any project: FEEDBACK. Putting out a newspaper (real or virtual), writing a book, an essay, etc. is one of the loneliest jobs in town. One comment to John about his work will spark him up for 3 months. You read, you like, you dislike, WE WANT TO KNOW! FEEDBACK keeps us alive.

Time for a beer!

Now my office looks like the inside of a garbage truck so, by the time I turn around, the bat has vanished somewhere; under my desk, in the bookshelf, behind the computer ...... I can't find it anywhere.

Now I remind you I was here to put on my bathing suit ..... 20 minutes ago.

I can't find Mr. bat! This being a first, I really don't know my wife's opinion about bats ......... if I tell her there's a bat in the house, how is she going to react? Does this mean she's moving to a motel 'til I find the beast!

On the other hand, if I don't say a word and she accidentally stumbles upon it ..... what will be the reaction? I'm in a rut!

So I put on my bathing suit and casually walk back outside. She looks at me and says: "I thought you were going to PUT on your bathing suit, not go out and BUY a new one!!! What took you so long?"

Now I don't lie too good, so I quit trying a long time ago. "I have good news and bad news. " I say to her. "The good news is we have a new pet, the bad news is it's a bat".

My wife called me this morning.

She's doing fine.

The motel has a pool!

Claude received a variety of pieces of "helpful" advice from his "friends" and colleagues here at the NERR. Here is a sample:

• "You're in a bit of a mess. Having said that, bats are fine and harmless creatures at the best of times. There is only one specie which might, emphasis
  on might, want possibly to go for you (or your blood), and that's a vampire bat, which you'll search long and hard for in Canada. We have bats here all over, living underneath the roof and at night taking care of the mosquitoes and other troublesome insects. With us you'll find mostly the Cape Horseshoe Bat. (Name comes from the shape of the lower jaw, not their size ). In general they are quite agreeable creatures and useful as well. But if that is not gonna get your wife back ... at least you'll lot's of time to spend with the MSTS.

• I think, instead of hiding that you have a bat, you should be proud to have a bat. Start up a colony ... that way you can go out in your bathing suite (hmmm, Quebecor, bathing suite - does that mean speedo???) and not worry about being eaten by bugs!

• Look at it this way, you can watch whatever TV programs you want - you, and the bat.

• We had a close encounter with a bat at an apartment we lived in some years back. I still have no idea how the thing got in, but, sure enough, there's this
  shadowy shape flying in circles around the ceiling in our living room. My wife's reactions was to marvel at how the bat could move so quickly without making a sound (a true child of nature, she). We left the back door open and eventually the creature found its own way out. This was certainly less uncomfortable than in my college days, when a skunk managed to crawl into the empty dorm room next to mine, and leave a pungent memento of his visit before escaping into the wilds again!

• Bats are notoriously difficult to catch - talk to anyone who has tried to capture a bat that is flying around inside their house if you want the details! Since echo-locating bats are so good at detecting small objects, it is hard to trap them in a net. To get around this problem, you have to use a special type of net called a mist net, which is made up of very fine fibers that a bat can miss if it's not paying attention to its sonar. You also generally put the nets up in an area the bats fly through regularly, so they won't be expecting it. The bats sometimes fly by memory, so they might not notice a net until they've already hit it. There is one important limitation to using these nets - you're generally required to have a permit filed with an organization like the state
  Department of Natural Resources or another agency before you're allowed to catch bats in this manner. If you're catching endangered species, you also
  need permission from the US Fish and Wildlife Service. Always red tape! Good luck with the bat!

• Awww gee - I was going to suggest a 12 gauge approach, then found myself on the fence when thinking about all the damage Claude could do to his office (even if most people wouldn't notice). But when I read the last post about the red tape, and possible government agency involvement, well then I won't dare mention the 12 gauge solution.

• Remember that bats, at least in Australia, can carry harmful, if not fatal, diseases and bacteria. So be careful handling it.

• Call BAT man...maybe it's one of his cousins.

• Hot Dogs ....... how about hot wings? Claude, you're going to have to keep the back door open and collect a few more of those little buggers in order to make a batch of them there wings. Rather large wings but not a lot of meat on them. Good luck catching the nocturnal beasties. Maybe you should go by your local military facility and borrow a set of night-vision goggles and then sit there and wait for him in the dark. Surprise him when he is least expecting it ... Maybe catching a few mosquitos in a jar might help too - entice him into a good meal, and maybe he will leave.

• I had a bat in my house once. Glad my girlfriend at the time knew how to shoot. Only had one big hole in the wall to patch up.

Then Claude said:

• Good news ......... this morning, sitting at my computer, I hear a shuffle behind me and there he is, Mr Bat. I opened a few windows and after 30 minutes of heavy coaching, he got out. Now I have a new problem. I've been married 30 years, this is the first time I have had the house to myself in 30 years. I'm a golf-nut, and this week-end is the British Open on TV ........... my favourite chair, feet on the coffee table, chips and brew, scratching places I can't scratch usually ...... I have a big decision to make. I'll get you back on this.

So ... more advice:

• I was going to say you and the bat would cohabitate nicely in the office ..... but you opened the window. I appreciate the dilemma .... ring wife now .... ring wife next Monday .... hmmmm. Ask the bat?

So Claude said:

• OK! It's decided! Just called my wife and told her the bat was still to be found. Bought a King Size bag of chips, a bunch of wieners and buns and am preparing for a week-end of pure relaxation. Me, the virtual bat, and Jack Nicklaus! What a team.

But the others have not yet finished with the advice:

• You gotta do this properly ... make sure you lean a couple of lamps over on their side, set one of the chairs on it's back, maybe take a cup that you absolutely hate and drop it. Then go and scratch your face slightly with a rose bush or something, and muss your hair ... this is to be done just before she
  returns ... then when she comes in, have a stick or club in your hand, and pant like crazy. Be slouched in a chair. Then tell her what a horrific battle it was. It's not what you say ... it's HOW you say it. Actually, if you do this right, you shouldn't have to say anything except nod weakly when she asks if the bat's gone.

And now Claude starts to think laterally:

• Putting all of your ideas on paper and am starting to think this should become a yearly event .... around this time, bat-time coinciding with the British Open! Boy! Never imagined cheating on my wife ..... with a bat!

Others can see dangers in this line of thinking:

• Don't ham it up too much, or the wife will call a exterminator, and then you will be out about 200 dollars - unless he is a golf fan too. Then it's gonna be
  bad, him calling the boss saying there is a bat issue, the boss calling the local health department saying there is a bat plague, the health department
  calling the minister of health saying we have a problem, the health minister calling the prime minister saying we should evacuate the province due to the
  massive bat infestation, the PM calling the UN and the world health organization saying there is a invasion of bats, the UN calling a meeting, and the security council voting unanimously to nuke the region, along with anything within 500 km, to rid the world of this catastrophe - which the newspapers are already calling it the next "Black Plague".

But another NERR colleague sees a possible good outcome to all this for Claude:

• Another plus side of this ... after your battle to get rid of the dangerous bat ... you'll be her hero and deserving of a big reward.

But Claude then said:

• I chickenened out and called her up as soon as I caught the bat .... problem was it was Thursday, sex-night! And yes, Tiger won! But if you're interested to know how the bat got in in the first place ...... midnight swim, towels hanging on the chairs on the patio, bat resting on one of the towels, you take in the towels, and voilà! Bat goes in and scares your shorts off!

And no one touched that line!

And here the story ends, with all of us sitting on the edge of our seats, waiting for Claude's next adventure!