Do you remember those ads by the makers of the people's car: Volkswagon? Neither do I, but I do remember the catch or tag line: Drivers Wanted. I like their thinking; simple, and straight to the point. I bought a Ford. Money Saved.
I do share something with the volks at Volkswagon; I want something simple. I want leisurologists. I'm tired of my Tigger-like existence where 'I'm the only one'. I need some people to play with; hence Leisurologists Wanted.
It's easy to find weekend warriors. Everyone is a leisurologist on the weekends; except pastors, reverends, ministers and professional football players (and those who feed off them), but who wants to congregate around 'those types'. Sorry Greg Geldart. Sorry John Madden.
This past weekend I've been in the company of some weekend warriors. They have real jobs. One is an emergency room doctor (middle image) who skateboards. Kind of ironic, in a way, given that many medical specialists owe their livelihood to skateboard injuries. A skateboard has never actually hurt anyone, but pavement sure has. So has guy wires (aptly named if you watch this clip).
Another warrior who I played with this past weekend (bottom image) owns an Irish pub called Jamieson's. Jamieson's is located in Cole Harbour, a place famous for some young hockey player (I think it's Gordie Howe but I'm not sure). Jamieson's, if you happen to be in Dartmouth/Cole Harbour, is well worth a visit. The lamb in phyllo pastry is divine!
I was also in the company of father and son weekend warriors. The father is an oceanographer with a PhD from MIT (how cool is that?!). He is so close to being a leisurologist it's not funny, but he still has a pesky job. Too bad, because he's got all the right stuff to work in my industry. His son is a mechanical engineer and too talented to leave his career. He also has a mortgage which sort of makes leisurology a non-starter. Nevertheless, we did get out for a weekend windsurf together.
My world stops when Monday rolls around. Thank god for garbage day, it gives me focus, at least on Tuesday mornings. I feel like the Maytag repairman. We do the same amount of work, but he gets a cheque. The bastard.
I was hoping that the current recession would turn into a depression, but it seems that isn't going to happen. It would have given me a lot of playmates, though without jobs we probably would have just been huddling around burning barrels together, warming our hands and talking about the good old days of fool employment.