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Recently I came across a job advertisement that seemed almost perfect for me, given my qualifications, skill level and more importantly my schedule. But there was one catch. I am giving an excerpt of the ad and my reasoning for applying for this job, so that you will be in sync with what I am talking about. Read the rest of this entry »

Just when Brad Pitt vows to bring back the moustache as an acceptable style in North America, I removed mine.

That too upon my manager’s advice. He said, “In North America moustache gives an impression that the man wearing it is not frank and seems to hide something from others.”

Being in customer service, in these times of economic uncertainty, I figured I could not take a chance with my moustache. To bring in some additional sales, if all that I need to lose is some facial hair, that’s OK.

Read the rest of this entry »

Recently I read an article in Time titled “‘Tis the Season of Six-Inch Stilettos” that goes in some depth as to why women wear those Stilettos.

As the article points out,  the reasons are many:

• Women want to project an image that is both powerful and feminine.
• To be fashionable, to overcome peer pressure or to satisfy their need for  vanity.
• Long legs communicate a healthy youth and good breeding potential.
• Women enjoy sex more, if they walk in high heeled shoes. Because according to an Italian study, it conditions the pelvic muscles.

Sometimes it comes in handy as a tool to protect oneself ( Stiletto in Italian means dagger ) from sexual predators. That’s my understanding from seeing movies.


However none of these come close to what I learnt from a TV commercial (Shopping Channel) or a TV Program ( one of those makeover programs for women). I don’t remember which one. But it gave a very scientific explanation of why women wear high-heeled shoes.

I am a student of science and I always appreciate a scientific explanation.

To share my knowledge with you using an illustration, I did an exhaustive research. I was looking for images of women in high heeled shoes that would prove the point as to why they need them.
It might surprise many of you, I could not find any illustration that would do justice.

• If the shoes are good, women are not so attractive.
• If the women are good looking, shoes are ugly.
• If they are both good, the photograph is too suggestive that they pander to carnal desires. You may want to look at them, but I have some editorial standards to maintain you know?
• or they don’t strike a pose that would explain the scientific theory behind wearing those shoes.

After much sifting, this image came close to what I had in mind.

You can see  the young woman in a cocktail dress walking gracefully in her stiletto. What actually happens is that the high heeled shoes lifts her body upward and tilts it forward (resulting in her bust thrusting forward). If she lets go without counteracting it, gravity will pull her forward and she will eventually fall on her face. So to nullify this forward pulling force, she jets out her posterior as a counterbalance. This she does naturally without conscious attempt, resulting in a grace that we all appreciate.

There is a happy coincidence in this delicate balancing act, that her breasts and butt project outward making  them even more attractive. Even those women who are not so physically endowed look attractive in them.

So there you have it.  The reason behind their inexplicable obsession with possessing many pairs of high heeled shoes.

If you ask them,”Honey are you comfortable in those shoes?”  they will more likely ignore that question and counter that with “How do I look?’

You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.” – Barak Obama
After this remark, amidst the claims of Democratic supporters and counter attacks of Republicans, here is an imaginary conversation that never took place.
McCain: Barak, I knew that your reasoning abilities were suspect. But I didn’t know you were blind too.
Barak: I meant with you being in charge there is effectively no change in leadership.
McCain: You must be foolish to deride our assets in Alaska.
Barak: I meant your policies are no different from that of Mr. Bush.
McCain: You are against feminism.
Barak: No, I meant America under your leadership will be no different than under our current leadership.
McCain: You support abortions.
Barak: No, I meant with your policies we will be lead along the same ruinous path that we are on currently.
McCain: You are against teenage pregnancies.
Barak: No, No, I meant I love my country too much to leave it in the hands of amateurs.
McCain: You are against our fundamental right to bear arms.
Barak: No, for God’s sake I meant America cannot afford anymore extravaganza.
McCain: You are against beauty contests.
Barak: No, I meant…. Never mind what I meant.
Arnold (Pointing to himself): This Governor would have done a better job wearing a lipstick. (looking at McCain) Why didn’t you think of me?
McCain: But Arnie, I thought….
Arnold: You thought what? I even bore a child in one of my movies. So you can even say I am against abortions. Besides I proposed you over Rudy. Remember?
McCain: I am sorry Arnie, but you’re the man. I have you in my mind and in my term I will amend the constitution just for you. I promise.
Bush: Guys, look what I found. If you dress up a scarecrow in jeans it is still a scarecrow!

What would you think if someone says to you,”If I had a million dollars, I will buy you a casket”? You will be shocked, wouldn’t you? For it runs counter to ‘norm’. We may hear like, I will buy you an exotic pet, or some art like a Picasso or a Garfunkel or I would hire a limousine to drop you at your bus stop. (OK, I admit I am inspired by Barenaked Ladies song by the same title.)


Well that’s exactly what my friend said to one of our other colleagues (he is not well liked by anyone in our group) during our lunch break. My friend is a regular at buying lottery tickets and I have never played lottery to this day and I was being initiated into buying one these days. Our discussion about lotteries eventually led us to finding out what would we buy each other if either of us won it big. That’s when our colleague chipped in and got bitten. Though personally I have some misgivings about this colleague, I felt my friend’s reply to be in bad taste. But seriously, why would it upset us if someone near to us discusses our imminent death.

I mean it is OK to hear one’s insurance agent (or they see an ad that asks, “If you died today, who will take care of your family?” showing some distraught kid near a grave) discuss his (her) death and the need to provide for their near and dear ones, once they are gone. Not only are they not upset, but they shake hands and buy as much insurance as they can afford. They even go to the extent of buying their own funeral arrangements making a down payment and following up with monthly payments thereafter. They feel relieved or should I say joy in their hearts?

It is probably because under those circumstances we conjure up images of our death in the distant future. Or we should give credit to the insurance companies and the ad agencies that have made it palatable to discuss death. But the moment someone shows a casket, and says it is our own to take it home for free, we are terrified. For example we don’t particularly like our children say, Dad (or mom) I bought you a coffin for this father’s (mothers) day

Why is it so? The answer my friend, as my philosopher and guide Eckhart Tolle puts it beautifully, We are intensely attached to our identity as to who we are. He says, “Suppose you see a fish being born in an aquarium and you name it John and adopt it as your pet. A little while later when you see it eaten by a bigger fish, will you grieve over it”? Of course not, we will dismiss it as natural part of life to be born and gone. But when it comes to our own identity, we will defend it to death! (No pun intended). He says it is our attachment to our identity that keeps our cosmetic, fashion industries alive and the moment we relinquish our identity, these industries will collapse. To that list, may I add the insurance industry too, if he had not already done?

By the way, later I asked my friend as to why he was so rude to our colleague. I got this for an answer, “Do you know Rayan, how much it costs to buy a good casket these days”? and he was serious! That only made me laugh and honestly I don’t have a clue. For in my afterlife, I have no intention to be constrained underground but fly upwards in smoke freely. And the rest of me may travel along the river to meet the ocean. You know, I intend to enjoy my life now and later with zest.

‘Accidents can happen if I keep thinking of you’, so goes the tag line of a romantic novel. May be true. But it is only one of the many causes as to why an accident can happen. According to the Swiss Cheese Model of accident causation most accidents can be traced to one or more of following four levels of failure:

• Organizational influences
• Unsafe supervision
• Preconditions for unsafe acts
• Unsafe acts themselves

To illustrate, let us imagine a guy dropping off his girlfriend at the airport. Let us go one step further and say they had a very satisfying sex prior to leaving his condo. This guy while driving, is lost in his thoughts as to how much he will be missing her in the days to come. While his girl friend beside him is glowing and could not resist herself looking at him while he is driving. Suddenly she moves to his side and plants a passionate kiss on him and momentarily (which to them must have lasted a lifetime) they both close their eyes. Too bad for them, just then a car cuts into their lane and our guy wakes up and slams on his brakes. But not before his car bumps into the one in the front. Luckily for them it was just a minor fender bender.

Now let us analyze this situation:

Unsafe act:

1. Closing one’s eyes while driving is definitely an unsafe act. Can I say that?
2. Kissing one’s girl friend while driving is an unsafe act – if you had watched Crash you may agree with me. Remember the cop pulling over the successful Hollywood director and his wife while driving.
3. How about having a girl (like the one in the picture) beside you while driving – will that itself qualify as an unsafe act?
4. She is not in her seat belt – one must be gay to have noticed that.

Preconditions of unsafe acts:

• How would the poor guy know that, having satisfying sex prior to driving would be a precondition to an unsafe act?
• That they are lost in their world and not in ours – would it be a precondition too?

Unsafe supervision:

• She (women are generally cautious and are the first to survive a disaster) should have supervised him and cautioned him to drive safe – but not this one, you may say.
• Or he should have supervised her to stay in place and allow him to drive – but that would be too much to ask.

Organizational influence:
Could not think of any. Remember, the Swiss cheese model says one or more of the four levels of failure and not all of them need be present to cause an accident. But still if you can think of any let me know.

Now to avert this accident we again refer to this model, which says we need to raise many barriers in the Swiss cheese.
Some of the barriers I can think of:

1. Calling a taxi to take his girlfriend to the airport, while he stays home safe and sips his favorite drink and watching his game on the TV.
2. Allowing her to drive, while he is content sitting in the passenger seat is another way to avoid an accident.
3. Asking his girlfriend to sit in the back seat, while he stays focused on driving.
4. Taking his grandma beside him (she has an appointment with the dentist on their way home) while his sweetheart safely sits in the back seat.
5. Finally the mother of all barriers, staying single.

Guess what the traffic police would have ticketed our guy for this accident: ‘Following too close’
That is too simple a diagnosis, isn’t it? But we know the reasons why.

Tell me frankly what came to your mind when you read the story title Jennifer Lopez names her twins?

Tch, tch, tch. You guys are bad. But I am not like you. I guessed it right and I wish her well.

Once in a while it helps to laugh. They told me to laugh. Be happy.

For me it is a prescription medicine. If I don’t take it, my readers will notice that there is something missing in my writing. Like salt is less or altogether absent in the soup.

It was one of those weeks, when bills to be paid are fast approaching and there are no payments due to me on the horizon. Being cheerful was a tall order. But suddenly we get this unexpected order from a customer. The margin was very low but at least it would help with the cash flow. So I went to pick up the check. I was told it would be ready with the secretary to pick up. The secretary was a lady in her mid fifties. Seeing me tired and worn out, she said to me, “Big check you got their man. Cheer up. But don’t go to the strip joint tonight. I will get to know, ‘cos I work there part-time!”

That surely made me laugh. But the news story Gandhi ‘is myth’, Churchill ‘made up’ didn’t make me laugh, but it started me thinking. How is it that a nation like Great Britain with a long history, (on whose empire once the Sun never set), allowed its citizens to neglect history and believe Churchill never existed and that his story was ‘made up’. A nation that believes Sherlock Holmes really lived on Baker Street may as well believe the following:

Captain Jack Sparrow really ruled the Caribbean seas and Johnny Depp would ‘rightly’ be identified as Captain Jack Sparrow and Sean Connery would pass off as King Richard, the Lion Heart in their history quiz. Or they will name Tom Cruise as the Japanese Samurai known to them. In the same breath their greatest hero Horatio Nelson will either go unnoticed or denied existence.

Given the fact that TV entertainment has such a hold on their daily lives, the only way to make UK citizens to discern fact from fiction is through game shows like ‘who wants to be a millionaire’. Even if the participant may not know the answer, at least his(her) buddy will get a chance to Google and verify the existence of such great leaders.

Who wants to read the history books when there is a chance to become a millionaire!

So I came home. Parked my car in the sub-basement and I was pleasantly surprised that there was this elevator waiting just for me. Well this is going to be one lucky day. In my building to save on energy or maintenance only one or at the most two elevators would be working. In off peak hours it takes a painfully long time for the elevator to come or go up to one’s floor. So it’s a delight to see one waiting.
I got into the elevator and checked myself in the mirror. If there is no mirror in the elevator cubicle, I feel cheated. I want my money back or the ride should be free. In the mirror I could see one or two grey strands of hair showing up. Am I getting too old too soon? Didn’t notice the elevator doors closing behind me and that it’s going up.

Up comes the basement floor, to my surprise there was this ‘sweet something’ that comes in and presses penthouse floor (24th floor in my building). Normally I am not so lucky. I have grandmas or service personnel with tool carts, delivery guys with big packages or some smelly old guys muttering to themselves as my co- passengers. Well, this time it was different. Just me and her. But that was just for a moment.

Up comes the ground floor, a motley crowd jostle and get in while leaving behind a few unlucky ones. Now I and she were pushed to two corners, she was out of sight and I pushed her out of my mind. Now that my floor was approaching, I maneuvered through the crowd, reached for the exit.

Wait, what happened! It’s not stopping at my floor but keeps going up. Oh, Shoot! In my ‘self reflection’ and a very brief ‘romantic flight of fancy’ I forgot to press my floor number. Couldn’t show my disappointment but cursed my stupidity, while standing near the exit. Just then a lady in the crowd motioned me to either make way or get out. I was in her way. I had to get out and get in at almost every floor when someone got out. By now the crowd thinned out. Finally it was just me and her again on the 24th floor. Did I notice her getting out with a smile on her face? I don’t want to tell you.

Anyway on my return trip first thing I did was to press for my floor. On the 19th floor I could see that it is stopping. What for? A young boy was waiting but wouldn’t board. He requests me to hold as his mom was coming in a ‘sec’. Well, now I had become the elevator attendant holding the doors open. A good thirty seconds pass and no one came and this lad disappeared (probably to fetch his mom). Couldn’t decide whether to stay or move. Just when I decided to close the door, I could hear steps fast approaching. The boy barges in and yells at her mom to follow soon. Here she came at last and I resumed my journey.
It stopped again on the 16th floor. A guy with his dog steps in. Then again on the 14th floor. Luckily this time it was a couple who were ready to come in. But there is only one problem: they were trying to move in a heavy package. I got out first to let them in lest I may be squeezed into one corner.

A few more stops on the return trip and finally my floor came. Breathing a sigh of relief I got out. It was a long journey but a memorable one. Can’t complain when it is free.

Remember this guy?

Whenever I see someone having a private talk on their bluetooth enabled cellphone and at the same time trying to strike a conversation with me, I find it to be mildly annoying at first. Not to the degree Robert De Nero exhibits in the movie Taxi Driver (1976). But frustrating to some extent. I don’t know for sure if the guy in my front is talking to me or the person at the other end on his cell. If he looks at me and says something, and I am about to reply, he shakes his head and points to his bluetooth device wrapped to his ear indicating that he is actually talking on his cell. Then when I politely withdraw out of courtesy (not attempting to overhear his conversation), and resume my work, suddenly he addresses me with a pertinent question. When I am about to answer, he motions me to stop, goes back to his buddy on his cell. If this happens a few times before our transaction is over, I find myself in the place of De Nero in the movie.

You can see why:

	You talkin’ to me?
You talkin’ to me?
	You talkin’ to me?
Well, I am the only one here !
	Then, who the hell are you talking to?
Oh, yeah?

Have you had similar experience?

I told him not to go. I mean, I adviced my long time Polish friend not to visit Montreal. Not this time of the year and definitely not in his beloved clunker the Audi 100, model year 87-88. But he wouldn’t have any of my advice. Not that I have anything against Montreal or the fact that, the guys there take it easy upon themselves when it comes to enjoying their holidays. They are in the old world tradition, while we Torontonians are in a futile race to keep up with our neighbors down south. While I was busy working even on the eve of New Year, my friend was having the time of his life up north or so I thought.

The new year started off well for my friend who took his two teen age sons for skiing in Montreal. Atleast that was his purported visit. Though I have a suspicion that he is again on the lookout for his soulmate(s). Did I tell you about his last visit to Cuba for the same purpose? Well, that can wait. Now just Montreal.

I was working as usual on a Saturday the 5th of Jan 2008, when I received the unexpected SOS ( should I say the much awaited call for assistance) from my friend. “Can you do me a favor?”, was his request and I can sense a mild panic in his voice. “Sure”, I replied and told to myself, “anything but money”. For I don’t have money, even if I have, I am loyal to my wife.

To be frank with you, I was a bit jealous of my friend. Here I am tied to my family, whereas there he is, single and can take his plate anywhere he wants in an all-you-can eat buffet.

“What can I do for you?” was my polite question. A sense of formality has come over me ever since I joined this new job. Incidentally part of my job is to provide tech support to my customers over phone. Matter of fact, at that very moment I received his call on my cell, I was assisting my customer on the other line.

“I need you to call a towing company in Toronto, right away, to tow my car back to Toronto and get back to me ASAP on this”, was his urgent order / request.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Wait a minute, did you say, I should call a towing company in Toronto, to tow your car, all the way back from Montreal to Toronto?”

“Yes, now go and make the call” was his emphatic answer.

Just to save him some trouble and lots of money I asked him a series of questions.

“What happened to your car?”. It wouldn’t start.

“Why can’t you fix your car there itself?”. He couldn’t fix it himself and he couldn’t find any mechanics locally.

I thought it was the weekend and may be he can have it fixed on Monday first thing in the morning. Surely he can find some able hands in Montreal to fix his old Audi.

“So why can’t you hire a towing company locally and push your car to any of the nearby auto repair shops? It will be fixed first thing on Monday” was my next logical suggestion.

“Listen to me you idiot. I am not your customer. Don’t walk me through the steps. Here everything is closed for the holidays and Montreal is open for business only by the 11th or 12th of January. So before it is too late, please call and retain some towing company for my service”

By now I can sense his urgency completely. I called a few local towing companies and explained the situation and was stunned to know even the lowest quote to make a round trip would be $ 1300 Canadian and that too the money has to be paid in full either in cash or certified cheque.

I know for sure that my friend doesn’t carry that kind of money on him and that his credit card would have maxed out by now.

So I told the company that my friend has the money at his home in Toronto and would pay as soon as his car ‘safely’ reaches Toronto. It took a lot of convincing and a bit of tact to engage a towing company that was willing to tow on my word and on the good faith that my friend would deliver.

Or they were sure that someone who is willing to pay more money to tow a car than what it is worth, is a good customer to have.

Last time I heard from my friend was that it was just a clog in the fuel line that caused all the problems and the car was running fine ever since.

Well, goodluck with that.

By the way will this qualify for an entry in the Book of Official Polish jokes? After all my friend is a certified Polish.