Glenn Cochrane: Glenn tells everyone to “Have a nice day.”

Whatever happened to that cheery admonition “Have a nice day?” The time was that a child’s first words were “Have A Nice Day,” strangers would stick their heads in your car window and cry “Have a Nice Day” while you waited for the traffic light to change, and felons would beset you on the street and send you on your way with that friendly admonition after robbing you of all your money.

There was a time in our society when catchphrases of that nature were quite commonplace. During the Second World War, every lamp post in the land bore the notice that Kilroy Was Here and more recently we all have been urged to Vote as you like, but Vote and, while I don’t think this is something we have to be reminded of, it is still splendid advice. But times change and now it is time for me to move on to matters of another nature.

I would like to say a few words in defence of garbage or to be more explicit the taking out to the curb thereof. This has traditionally been a task performed by a male member of the household usually the father. I’m not saying this hoping to provoke a stampede of womenfolk asserting that they do in fact frequently can the crud to the earth. To me this is a matter of enlightened self-interest because as society has evolved taking out the garbage has become a guy thing in most households.

If our loved ones ever come to realize how relatively easy it is – except after party nights when there is a lot of clink clink involved – there is a danger that they might as well take over that task too and, chaps, you know where this will lead. In most households, garbage disposal has become one of the last activities commonly regarded as being a man’s job. If that is usurped, the floodgates to total emancipation will swing wide and flatten us males in the process.

Do not think I’m exaggerating. When my father was a young husband he was the one who traditionally swept the snow off the roof after a winter storm, but gradually Mother took over that duty, mainly because Dad seldom got around to it. When I was but a lad, Mother always tried to make sure the roof was clean of the white stuff and she was usually hard at it by the time Dad came up the front walk after a day at work. Sometimes this resulted in a few hundred pounds of the stuff landing right on Dad just as he was putting his key in the front door. This caused Mom to scamper down the ladder, broom in hand and pummel Dad briskly about the head and shoulders in a determined attempt to get rid of every flake. She loved that man, no doubt about it. Then they went together into the house whereupon he would go to the medicine chest to get bandages for the cuts on his face and Mom went into the kitchen softly murmuring a happy tune.

But now some social notes that I hope will be of interest to you. I get many inquiries as to the activities of Sturdy Gert McCurdy and I am pleased to report that she continues to enjoy robust good health. Sturdy was in town recently in the company of her friend Auntie Maim and the two of them had a wonderful time visiting old friends and dishing out a good walloping to several undesirables who had taken to hanging out on the main street ogling passersby. The bad guys took the hint and departed as soon as doctors declared them fit to travel.

Sturdy and her friend have also returned home so things have quietened down appreciably. Before leaving, Sturdy hinted to me that she will soon divulge news of an interesting nature so I will pass along the fact as soon as I can.

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