Springtime in Saskatoyuktuk

It's somewhere in the realm of 3:00 AM time-wise. I'm writing now as a bit of a mind purge. I've not been able to just simply drift off to sleep because the howling 90 km/hour blizzard wind that is slamming at my outer wall of my bedroom. It's not at the state of being destructive: if you are inside, just an eerily noisy nuisance. We are in the midst of a clipper that is raging throughout the western interior of Canada. We've been through our first full day of the vernal equinox, and conditions are nowhere near appearing close to being spring-like throughout the time since I last posted here.

Did I share this photo to show you the interesting
 geographic info on the sign?. . .No. . .
Did I share this photo to show you the alphabet soup
 that is the Inuvialuktan language? . . .No. . .
I shared this photo out of envy, to show you that even
they have less f****in' snow there than we do! 

A few days ago, I noted that Saskatoon was even colder than the far northern hamlet outpost of Tuktoyaktuk near Inuvik in NWT, close to the Arctic Ocean. I commented on Facebook that we should rename this town Saskatoyuktuk, or something else that sounds more linguistically concordant to an Inuit dialect, given the extended length and snowfall of this miserable winter. I thought it would at least roll off the tongue more rhythmically to match all the other "-uck, -uck" words I've been muttering repeatedly every time I've tuned into the weather report for this region each morning for the last few weeks. After these last hours of the wind packing the snow, we would indeed have the ideal banks around here now to cut out sturdy enough blocks to actually build a few igloos. Given the affordable housing shortage around here, that might not be such a bad thing.

One of the first day of spring 2013 photos, taken here locally.

The most salient question I suppose the locals around this city/part of the province have been asking themselves is: "Why do I live here again?" The only positive answers I can scrape up for now is, at least it's not North Korea, or Iran. I can dress for the cold and snow and be protected. I don't know how to dress for an earthquake, or volcano (Pacific Rim), or for a car bomb (the Middle East) or for a sudden spray of bullets (like what's possible now in Syria, or any American school/movie theatre). These realities don't diminish the fact that this winter has been overly long and depressing for me though, even with the effort to use some of the days that were more ideal for skiing. By this coming Sunday, there will have been a full five months of snow coverage, and still no sign in the forecast for potential good thawing weather, until the maybe the second week of April, which still could potentially throw another couple storms our way.

A pileup scene somewhere between Edmonton and Calgary

I'm definitely not an Inuit, nor do I have the constitution of one. I have this innate urge in me to experience greenery, flowers, or even just simple grass close to this time of the year. The heightened flooding alert is going to delay even that from coming normally. It's becoming even more imperative that I visit Gardenscape this weekend at Prairieland Park. After this brutal season, I would bet my bottom dollar, despite the great delay for planting and sowing stuff, that there will not just a few, but throngs of people there, with near-orgasmic expressions on their faces, paying a ridiculous admission price, to just get a simple long awaited opportunity to smell the heavenly aroma of actual dirt and compost again, and to catch a glimpse of these things long estranged from our memory called "tulips", and "daffodils". The horrid road and highway conditions will not deter them. This picture above of a scene from Alberta won't be a sobering enough reminder for them to take it easy, or to just stay home.

That's how desperate people around here are for spring to come. . . here in Saskatoyuktuk.

Ides of March, Training and Detox, and the Futility of Seeking Serenity

The harsh reality about how unfit I've been rendered by this winter came to me Tuesday. Armed with my new heart monitor, I burned around the track for a five kilometer distance as a trial session for getting to know what my actual peak heart rate is when I run. I shamefully admit that after two and half years of running, I still didn't know what this was yet. I confess that I pushed it a little harder than I should have; my average rate was recorded at a terrible 169 bpm: way too high, and my pace wasn't even anywhere close to my personal best for my high pace five click running. What was even more distressing was when I exited the steam room afterward. I realized that another thing about this winter compared to the others since I lived here is that I haven't found time to make better use of the sauna, or sweat properly. When I walked out of there I was not just looking red, but almost purple as I shocked myself passing a mirror, a worse looking sort of sickly hue than when I come out of a heavily chlorine-saturated swimming pool. 

The common thing about the lungs and the skin are that each have direct contact with both the air in our environment and the body's blood supply simultaneously. It stands to reason that if my lungs are still crappy and full of toxic junk, it's quite likely that it will reflect on my skin that has been exposed to it as well, especially when it's put through even a mild degree of environmental stress, like the steam room. The dryness, plus not being able to expose the skin and open the pores and sweat freely for this especially long winter season probably doesn't do much good for any body. Neither does constantly being indoors, inhaling recirculated air, with the dust and fungal/mould spores, and whatever other viruses, germs and household product chemical residues are in it. I'm sure that the shockingly ghastly and unnatural colour of my skin after that session was a sign that I'm due for some hard core form of spring detoxification.





Some Homemade Sealer Salads for the week
 Energy/Nutrients Value per jar: Calories - 231.3
Total Fat 17.4 g, Cholesterol 0 g, Sodium 272 mg
Potassium 411.3 mg, Total Carbs 18.6 g
Dietary Fiber 7.0 g, Sugars 5.3 g
Protein 5.0 g, Daily Recommended percentage of
Vitamin A 93.2%, Vitamin C 102.3 %
Calcium 13.0 %, Iron 22.0%

I've been already taking measures for such a detox, and commiting to it for least for a couple of weeks. I've started to automate things enough in the kitchen to do the following:

• eat more raw greens/chlorophyll
• eliminate sugar and white flour/starch
• use more leaner simple proteins (fish, chicken, nuts, eggs, and beans)
• limit salt
• increase antioxidants and vitamin C (lemons, grapefruits, onions, ginger, turmeric, garlic, berries, mushrooms)
• increase dosages of vitamin D
• consume more fibre
• gobble up those multivitamins
• limit milk intake (except for cottage cheese, buttermilk/kefir, and yogurt)
• water, water, water, water . . . at least four litres per day
• stop drinking alcohol (Boooo!)

I'll try to steam/sauna everyday throughout, then I should get a massage after the first week of this, and another after the second.

Despite all the good intentions, there was nothing but a road to hell before me, no matter which I turned. I'm talking about yesterday. The ides of March weren't just bad for Caesar. I completed my circuit at the track, only to have my sports watch display crap out on me, rendering it useless: my new monitor, which I was so proud of for getting at a great discount a few days before, also rendered useless. I was beginning to fume with frustration. Walking out of the track building (into more bloody blowing snow) didn't improve my mood any either; but I tell myself to think progressively, baby steps, etc., and I drove to the Future Shop to assess the price of a replacement (not buying anything, nothing in stock, thus wasting my time). I could (should) have opted to use the exit from the parking lot that took me directly home, but I reflected a bit, upon looking at more of this goddamned snow coming, and thought to myself that it might be better instead to go the other way out to Dutch Growers greenhouses. Why this decision? Probably because the core of me was (is) so desperate to see something floral and verdant after this long, dreary, wretched season. I tell myself: "Remember, be progressive man, seek out the better, SERENITY NOW!" As I was driving away from the shopping centre, waiting for my chance to try to cautiously turn onto the road in drifting snow conditions, BAM! An idiot in a truck* rear-ends me.

My day of trying to work progressively for training better and trying to mentally endure ten more new centimeters of this oncoming white hell only resulted in a damaged watch, a wrecked car, and few other unwelcome scenes and issues waiting for me when I arrived home. I should have just stayed in bed. I chose to say "Screw it!" to the detox for rest of the day, and drank wine and feasted on bread and sugary sweet baklava at a function later that evening.

Yesterday for me was only proof that the road to hell is paved with the best intentions. Perhaps I should be observant of the fact that today, according to Mental Floss, is World Sleep Day. A day to stay home, draw the curtains, shut down and go into some kind of coma, and stop the rest of the world from biting at my ass.

*- A stupid big-ass Dodge half-ton. I hate these friggin' trucks, and the most of the typical dimwitted and foolish personity types and demeanor of the young men around this neighbourhood who drive them.




Getting Unstuck, and Bond-ology

I was muddling through Thursday wondering what I was going to do through the weekend. The last dump of snow was so de-motivating. Initially, I was just in no mood to take on any extra home projects, but then I looked in my fridge. I've been trying to eat healthier again, buying more fruits and veggies, but with the neglect because of the long days at work, I discovered that it was looking more and more like a regular bachelor's refrigerator. It was coming close to the point when brown stuff was turning green, and when the green stuff starts turning brown. In another couple of days, I'm sure I'd be able to roll up the lettuce and smoke it. Without intending to do so, I managed to create my most efficient mise en place ever. I created a lot of recipes, some classy ones, for very cheap. It was my first measure for getting unstuck. The fates conspired to push me along through the process further yet in an interesting way.

With the return of warmer weather, I had to take advantage of trying to put some effort into getting more physically active. Motivation to move though has still been lacking. My performance in both running and skiing has been erratic and more taxing on me than usual. My lung capacity is still greatly diminished, and it's putting more strain on my breathing and circulation than I find comfortably acceptable. I decided that I needed to get the compatible heart rate monitor that transmits the reading to my GPS sports watch for biofeedback. It seems like I have to outsource my willpower in the form of gadgets and apps. I went to three different stores before I finally found it. At the place I found it at, the price tag listed it at $79.99 before taxes, I paid with plastic. When I collected the receipt, I saw that I was charged only $21.99 after tax. Either there was a flyer discount I wasn't aware of, or some scanning error that perhaps rang in the wholesale price instead; whatever the case I didn't argue about it. CoincidentalIy, I have to note that I checked my lotto tickets earlier and won twenty two dollars. It was a fluke that it covered almost the exact cost of the monitor. This bit of serendipitous luck was as if karma was dictating and making it such that I had to have this unit. All in all, my heart monitor really only cost me three bucks, the price of the lotto ticket. As it has been though, nothing else was mentally making it anymore inspiring to run harder, and while I was skiing this weekend, imagery of machine gun toting henchmen pursuing me didn't make me move any faster, which leads me to the next subject.

The final thing that has been giving me a bit more inspiration to move more is the 50th anniversary set of the 007 movies on loan to me, and watching my more favoured of the action-packed series all weekend. Thus comes the list part of my entry:

Top 10 Favourite Bond Films

1. Skyfall
2. Casino Royale
3. Goldfinger
4. For Your Eyes Only
5. Dr. No
6. Quantum of Solace
7. Goldeneye
8. Die Another Day
9. The Living Daylights
10. View to a Kill

My Choices for the Five Worst Bond Films

1. Never Say Never Again*
2. Live and Let Die
3. Moonraker
4. Licensed to Kill
5. On Her Majesty's Secret Service

My Five Favourite Bond Villians

1. Le Chifre (Mads Mikkelson)
2. Silva (Javier Bardem)
3. Jaws (Richard Kiel)
4. Max Zorin (Christopher Walken)
5. Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Donald Pleasence)

My 15 Favourite Bond Girls

1. Melina Havelock, For your Eyes Only (Carole Bouquet)
2. Jill Masterson, Goldfinger (Shirley Eaton)
3. Major Asimova/XXX, The Spy Who Loved Me, (Barbara Bach)
4. Honey Rider, Dr. No (Ursula Anders)
5. Severine, Skyfall (Berenice Marlohe)
6. The Cigar Girl/Assassin, The World is Not Enough (Maria Grazia Cucinotta)
7. Christmas Jones, The World Is Not Enough (Denise Richards)
8. Pussy Galore, Goldfinger (Honor Blackman)
9. Xenia Onatopp, Goldeneye (Famke Janssen)
10. Domino, Thunderball (Claudine Auger)
11. Solange, Casino Royale (Carterina Murino)
12. Elektra King, The World Is Not Enough (Sophie Marceau)
13. Miranda Frost, Die Another Day (Rosamund Pike)
14. Plenty O'Toole, Diamonds Are Forever (Lara Wood0
15. Naomi, The Spy Who Love Me (Caroline Munro)

My 10 Favourite Action Scenes

1. The showdown at Skyfall Manor (Skyfall)
2. The little yellow car chase (For Your Eyes Only)
3. The Tank in Moscow Scene (Goldeneye)
4. The Parkour Chase in the Madagascar Construction Site (Casino Royale)
5. The Miami Airplane Fuel Truck Ride (Casino Royale)
6. The ski jump parachute scene (The Spy Who Loved Me)
7. The Ski/Motorcycle Chase (For Your Eyes Only)
8. The Thailand Canal Boat Chase (The Man with the Golden Gun)
9. The Fencing Club Dual (Die Another Day)
10. The Port au Prince Boat Chase (Quantum of Solace)

Ten Stupid/Sucky Things of the Bond Films

1. For Your Eyes Only - A glaring technical mistake about the oxygen/helium respirator mixture. If their tanks were full of  helium, they would have been speaking like Munchkins.
2. Diamonds Are Forever - Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint. Enough said.
3. Never Say Never Again - Not being able to classify Kim Basinger as a Bond girl, because this movie can't be ever thought of as a Bond film
4. Man With the Golden Gun - The midget Nick Nack, and funhouse props juxtaposed to a state of the art solar energy converter, WTF??!!
5. Moonraker - Mr. Drax, like come on. . . if you are going to be a bat shit crazy megalomaniacal villain, at least try to have a personality that varies a bit from that of a brown sock.
6. The Living Daylights/License to Kill - Locking Timothy Dalton's place as the "spazzy" Bond.
7. Thunderball - The underwater battlefield scene was rather slow for an action scene, the bubbles do a lot to obscure the shots. The "airlift" ending was pretty cheesy too.
8. Sean Connery - Hey, I like the guy; but is it just me, or do other people find it as freaky and distracting upon noting how the far ends of his eyebrows almost appear to be trying wrap themselves around to the back of his head? I guess tweezing wasn't a popular option back in the sixties.
9. Octopussy - I think you've lost more than a bit of screenwriting talent when you are trying to introduce a rotary saw yo-yo thing as a legitimate possibility for an assassin's weapon. 
10. Live and Let Die - I hated this instance and effort on the part of the franchise to mess around with Blaxploitation, no matter how cool they thought it was to do at the time.

*- Never will this be ever considered a proper Bond film.

Future Thinking and Running Again

I'm so glad that February is finally over, but it didn't end without strain. I spent the last two nights of it, each one until around 3:00 AM, immersed in paperwork; preparing stuff for deadlines due on March 1st. It's like gambling under duress. The resulting headaches from all the analysis and reorganizing of things have been so brutal, and didn't fully disappear until today. My head has been made too numb with fatigue. Dealing with stuff for investments inevitably leads me to think of questions and speculations about the future. Not really financial or economic ones per se, but ones leaning more toward possible social, environmental, and geo-political changes, and ramifications*. It is from this where some of my current angst and unrest probably comes from: in not being able to foresee much in the years and decades ahead beyond something bleak and dystopian, on several levels ranging from the local to the global. No matter what avenue of investment I take, it would be seemingly pointless in the long run if it ultimately will be lost some way, or doesn't garner me any means of future happiness, or any protection from socio-economic and environmental factors and failures that are beyond my control. Thus, being engaged with such decisions becomes draining, and mentally taxing for me.

I finally began running outside this morning: for my first outdoor run of the year 2013. It was only two kilometers, but enough to reintroduce my leg muscles to such rigour now that there is enough ice free street surface to stride out across, and just long enough to re-acclimate my lungs properly, and to trigger them and my sinuses to rid themselves of a winter's worth of respiratory stagnancy. The skiing has been helpful, but it's not an accurate physical substitute, or facsimile, compared to running. With a reminder from my friend, it has struck me that my half-marathon that I signed up for is less than three months away. I'm trying to be mindful to temper my regenerating sciatic nerve slowly and properly.

*- Things like disturbing facts regarding: Education - Almost 70% of this globe's population believes in the ridiculous meme of creationism instead of the scientific evidence supporting evolution; Resource Management - It has been estimated that the energy equivalent of 4-6 barrels of oil is used to draw out just one barrel of it out of the Earth (If I said that I was paying 4-6 dollars to work for every one dollar I earned, I would be called crazy); Social Justice - This past exposure of the ignorance, corruption, and racist agendas on both sides of the fence of the "Idle No More" movement is probably a small glimpse of the unrest that's coming ahead in this nation; Agriculture - Farming is done by only (an aging) 2% of the growing global population, on increasingly depleted land, and yet the amount of industrial scale food production/processing waste is alarmingly increasing; Population - There are seven billion people living on a planet with, given our current rate of wasteful/inefficient resource usage, a carrying capacity of less than four billion, while at the same time, some religious institutions are still maintaining political influence/lobbying in many nations for preaching against and outright forbidding of family planning/birth control. These are only a few of the things that bother me about mankind. With such ignorance, impending limits and shortages, and uncontrolled growth, we are due for a worldwide collapse of civilization very soon. I can only hope that some definitely major paradigm shift is happening ahead to intercede.

Mother Tongue, Other Tongues

It has not been a very restful weekend. Friday was my only day off, and I used most of it to catch up in doing a lot of neglected little chores and DIY household tasks, which included an emergency plumbing fix. I still don't feel anywhere near being at the better/best state of my physical health yet. My stamina isn't lasting; getting exhausted too easily, and I'm still not getting any refreshing sleep. For this past week, after depressing and angering myself thoroughly with watching too much negative TV news, and other documentaries about some weighty issues, and whenever other frivolous game playing and diversions became too frustrating and boring, I've felt like I've come close to snapping.

Lately, because sickness and uncooperative weather has rendered me so physically inactive, I've been desperate to learn some new skills and tricks to at least keep my brain ticking and exercised by processing some kind of positive novelty. When self-improvement isn't coming quickly enough on the physical level, there are still realms in the mind to work on.

So then, my chosen method of healthful mental stimulation for the week was language acquisition*. I've been testing and drilling myself with an app on my iPhone called Duolingo. It is great for introductory learning of a new language. I've been concentrating on a couple of languages: German and Portuguese. Why German? Because I already know some basic vocabulary of it, and I'd like to progress beyond a beginner's comprehension level (and I know some Germans). Why Portuguese? Because it's just entirely new to me; plus it has enough noticeable cognates in it similar to French and Spanish (which I already know on intermediate levels) to help me grasp it, and feel around it, and intuitively test with it for creating phrases and sentences. Duolingo is great for Western European languages, but I'd like to see something equally compatible for learning non-Latin alphabet languages as easily, like Cyrillic alphabet languages (Russian, Ukrainian), and Kanji (Mandarin, Japanese).

Curiosity and novelty are not the only motivators. Logically, by learning a bit of these extra two languages, a door is a opened a crack to speak with about another additional 300 million people on this globe. For instance, with learning Portuguese, plus coupled with my Spanish, just about 93% of the continent of South America is then a bit more accessible linguistically to me. English, French, and Portuguese are the main colonial protocol languages used for much of Africa**. Learning more German would allow me to be more capable of living in a few of those 20 other countries that are compatible with my idea of progressive, civilized societies if, for some wild reason, I should ever somehow become uprooted, and have to move away from Canada.

I notice, and have to admit, that through my mistakes I'm seeing just how anchored my brain is in the English language, and how much more inflexible it seems to be at learning new ones as I age. Like perhaps for most Anglophones, it is a challenge for me to automatically assign grammatical gender on things. Also, I neither readily think of using accent marks, nor can I instantly twist my mind around figuring out which of all the extra verbal conjugations of these other languages to use correctly. Two articles, one definite and one indefinite (a/n, the) are sufficient for me, versus the five articles in French, six in both Spanish and Portuguese. There are yet comparatively more and complex article forms in the case of German, which are really staggering my mind as I study them.

Online translators have a purpose and place. I have used them to learn more words and grammar, but they are not perfect. Although it's increasingly convenient for me and other Anglophones, that the rest of the world is becoming so much more accommodating and interested/willing to learn and practice English, I also think that it's a bit of a loss as well in terms of finding equal ground in communicating with people. I generally think it's a mark of arrogance, and an attitude of superiority, to expect other people to learn and speak my language when I'm touring, or living as a guest, in their country.

I don't have great expectations about how proficient or fluent I'll be with these two, but gaining a little confidence in having at least some more literacy in getting around in nations with these languages is a bit more comforting. I only wish I had more of the means and opportunity to do so.

*- For me, the true reflection of "intelligence" is the ability to: think systematically and strategically; maintain, retain, and relate a lot of detail from memory; do creative improvisation, and organize. All of these abilities are enhanced and exercised when learning another language.

**- I'm not saying that I'm making a future big plan to ever go back to Latin America, or I'll be stricken with some urge to head to a continent as volatile as Africa is, but never say never.

Entering the Longest Month: Examining Wellness

I'm both disturbed and perturbed greatly about just how much these past few long weeks of idleness and illness have seemed to weaken me. I went running yesterday, the first time since the new year began. Through doing that, I discovered that I'm not 100% recovered from this stupid respiratory bug. My lungs and legs were totally trashed; even the steam bath afterward felt like it was killing me, and I'm still smarting from it all today. It's a shame too, because the nicer weather today would have made for a great day of skiing. As it is though, my current condition dictates that I need to use more time yet to sit still, rest, and heal. I may trek out to visit a bookstore, or the library, or stop for a tall pint somewhere later. But for now, being planted on my chesterfield, with my laptop and the remote control, a pile of books/other reading, some language learning apps, is about as exciting as this lazy Sunday morning is becoming so far. Ella has burrowed herself under my comforter and is snoozing beside me as I write. It's like she already knows that we're not going to be destined for a lot of activity today.

The 2013 Health and Wellness Expo is at Prairieland Park this afternoon. It's close and easily accessible; I could explore that. However, I don't feel like it's worth paying the high admission price for the short amount of time that I would be spending there though because, ironically, I don't feel well/energetic enough to hang around there all day. Noting this paradox pretty much sums up how depressed and under the weather I feel.

"We all believe silly things. What matters is how silly and how many." - Guy P. Harrison, author of the book, 50 Popular Beliefs That People Think Are True.

I also reminded myself that, just like any other trade show, it was more of a nucleus for marketing than for the vendors having real interest for actual "wellness", which made me all the more willing to avoid it. There are some honest, innovative, and practical prevention health oriented vendors and promoters set up there; but I think they are few amongst a whole lot of charlatans there as well trying to pitch their equivalent of snake oil, and other stuff that fits into the realm of pseudo-science and medical quackery. I was in no mood today to be further jaded; overtaxing my already highly skeptical attitude, or wasting any time being on alert status red for exercising caveat emptor in determining which of them were legit.

If I had the time and liberty to throw myself back into the role of a researcher, one thing that might be interesting to do with the people who come to such an event is to present a survey question for everyone to answer. The question would be: "What is your idea/definition of "wellness?" I'm sure the responses would be really varied, but also interesting. Wellness, for me, is a really vague term that I can't assign any one meaning to. All I know is that I seem to have a hell of a hard time trying to find it during the month of February: another reason that some of the answers might shock me seeing that this event is held at this time of the year, during the month that should be designated as National Depression Awareness month here in Canada.

I'd still love to hear answers to that topic question, I welcome listening/reading any that people have to offer.

My Two Cents about Currency

I'm cold-stricken again. I feel totally feeble and deflated of energy. Normally, I'd be trying to combat it with an aggressive treatment of Neo-Citron, but the problem is that its side effects* may be an interference for my procedure with my upcoming ophthalmic appointment. It's bad enough that I'm risking bursting blood vessels in my eyes now with all these violent fits of sneezing, which has happened to me in the past. For now, I'm just restricting myself to using patience, common sense, and the old-fashioned way to rid myself of this bug: rest, wholesome doses of vitamin C, and hot, steamy fluids (soup and tea). There was only enough vigor in me to run out briefly to fetch some of these basic remedies and necessities, and to walk the dog.


My last couple of pennies. I'll probably see if there is any
luck in them and use them for rubbing my scratch lotto tickets.

Today was also my first day of having to get used to making hard currency purchases rounded to the nearest nickel at the shops. I'm actually glad that the federal government and the Royal Canadian Mint saw fit to use the sensible measure to eliminate the circulation of the penny, but I confess that I will miss having them around. I don't have a simple explanation as to why. This has forced me to generally think about the psychology involved in exchanging hard currency.

I'm a consummate debit/credit card user now with most of my transactions. I walk home from work at night a lot, sometimes through and around a dodgy stretch of the neighbourhood. Perhaps mistakenly, I believe that having little or no cash on my person makes me feel like I'd be less of a victim, or I'd have a less severe violation if, God forbid, I ever was held up and robbed. The only reward someone might get if they ever did try to do it is maybe a free coffee from my Starbucks card: the only transaction card in my wallet that isn't PIN protected.

When I'm put in a spot of handling actual legal tender bills and coinage, it makes the acts of earning and spending, buying and selling a lot more visceral and less abstract**, like some real energy is being exchanged. Whenever I gift myself with buying something special, I weirdly feel even more appreciative of it, and even more thrilled and entertained when I spend actual cash for the sake of including something positive and enjoyable in my life. Being more estranged from that actual presence of physical currency now is undoubtedly changing my perception and attitude of it. Whenever actual cash is exchanged, I sometimes get a twinge of a feeling that there's some freedom to haggle a bit, and perhaps a little bit of a thrill of a delinquent hustle is involved somewhere. I believe more people than just myself have this same attitude. That may sound crazy, but OK, let's really test your own thoughts about a given scenario. What would be more of a thrill for you to do if you walked into a place to buy a big ticket item, let's say a car, that you were able to outright afford and pay for in full? Which of these options would you say would be more wildly fun and interesting to do?

Option A: (electronic transfer of funds from your bank)

1. Go to a dealership, respectably dressed, and refreshingly clean, as if to beg them to treat you with respect and dignity
2. Checking out your preferred model, with a polite, yet ho-hum discussion with a salesman about options,
3. You go back to his office, sitting there afterward flipping through page after page of gobble-de-gook of a sales agreement, getting perhaps further suckered into paying for more options before signing it.
4. You're feeling overwhelmed and confused by all the details in the paperwork you are processing, a.k.a. dazzled/blinded with bullshit
5. Ending the day there with an electronic transfer from your bank account and a handshake to close the deal.
6. If you do get the car, with so many clauses and stipulations in the paperwork and payment authorization, the control, power, and leverage in the negotiations seems to be in their hands, not yours.
7. If you don't end up buying anything, the whole event ends up feeling like a frustrating waste of your time.

Option B: (a whack load of cold, hard cash)

1. Go to a dealership, dressed like a total slob, disheveled, and unshaven, and see just much of a schmuck-loser the salesman is going to treat you like in the beginning. Take notice if and how much he is making it look like you are the incarnation of the biggest waste of time that he has ever had.
2. Check out your preferred model you saw advertised, and respectfully ask questions about the options you want. Be polite, and give him no cause to treat you with any further disrespect, but at the same time notice if he is actually listening to you. If he just disregards what you say, or just rolls his eyes in your presence, it's game on baby! Move to the next phase of the experiment.
3. When finished with this initial bit of the spiel, you then back go to his office with him, and as he starts, automatically, trying to check your credit rating, or assumes to start preparing a file for you for financing, then say: "I think I'll just pay cash for this." Then pull out a greasy looking brown paper bag from under your jacket, and start dumping out of it bundles of hundred dollar bills on his desk. Notice especially the radical and immediate shift into behaviour that reflects and denotes acceptance, approval and respect, despite the fact that you look like you slept in a dumpster. It's time to teach this fickle, shallow bastard a lesson. 
4. Count out an amount that's at least three grand less than the amount advertised (or what he's trying to press you for). Put that money back in the bag, close it and keep it on top of his desk. At this time, after a few moments of bewildered staring, he'll no doubt excuse himself, telling you to wait there while he "talks to his manager".
5. After he leaves the office, in secret, remove a sizable bundle from that bag, put the money bag back under your jacket. Pull out from your jacket another identical looking greasy looking brown paper bag filled with the same size and mass of old newspaper. Put that bundle of cash on top of it and close the bag, placing it on the same spot on his desk.
6. The salesman then returns, either to agree with or decline your offer. In either case, you tell him that you've reconsidered: you open the [newspaper] bag (in such a way that only you can see in it) and remove the wad of money and put it in your pocket, close it up, and then make it plain and clear to him that you'll now pay original offer minus whatever the amount was you just removed from the bag. Hell, make it even more interesting and tell him that you want him to throw in another extra couple of mid-scale additional options as well. If he starts blubbering in declining protest, that's when you get crazy on his ass and interrupt him, and boldly (and honestly) assert: "I don't care if you are willing to accept that as a deal or not! I'm planning to leave here without a bag! Whatever is left in that bag is all you are going to get . . .Work on it!"
7. He may stall a bit to call your bluff, or [pretend to] confab with his manager, but if he agrees, be gracious, well-mannered, and thankful (just switch and put the money bag back surreptitiously if that happens***). You sign your ownership papers, and you drive away in your new car as you watch him waving at you; grinning like a cat with a cream flavoured arsehole.
8. If he declines, you just throw up your hands and say: "Well, like I said, I'm leaving here without a bag, and whatever is left in that bag is yours." You then take (the newspaper filled) bag and place in on the showroom floor, dowse the bag with a vile of lighter fluid, set it on fire, and then say "There you go!", and start walking away; laughing and yelling "DANCE, MONKEY!", as you watch him trying to vigorously and desperately stamp out the flames in front of all his peers and co-workers, trying to rescue this fortune.****

So then, honestly, which car buying experience would you find more thrilling and interesting? I don't think you could even be human, or have a pulse, if you chose Option A. My point is that the critical element for making Option B so much more entertaining, and even conducive to getting a better price yourself with more options, is having actual hard currency at play, and the freedom to use a little creativity that electronic transfers and excessively worded sales contracts don't allow. You either got satisfied with a better car for cheaper, or had the pleasure of watching a greedy shithead walk on fire with Option B; so I bet you'd feel like a winner either way. A large amount of actual physical cash never loses its shock value either. Option B is the experiment that the eccentric and devious side of myself would love to make happen if I were rich enough, and knew I could manage to get away with such a stunt with impunity. Security cameras, and more stringent accounting regulations (to curb money laundering) around large cash transactions will probably keep Option B from ever becoming anything implementable, but it was fun as a thought experiment to pass a low-energy kind of day.

I wonder just how much wilder the scene could have been if I actually used Neo-Citron . . .


*- Increased fluid pressure in the eyeball, and blurred vision.
**- The lack of handling actual currency notes and coins, I think, is a big part of why many people are so oblivious about their spending habits, and becoming more prone to getting into serious debt.
***- I bring to your attention that this is strictly mind games, and putting up defense strategy against people who are already trying to dry-hole ream you the minute you walk through their door. . . I am not endorsing theft.
****- Not all car salesmen are pricks, I'd only save and use these tactics for one who evidently is. You aren't even being deceitful. You stated clearly that you are leaving without a bag (you either either leave without a bag of money, or you leave behind a bag of burning newspaper). It could be a useful technicality that could get you off the hook if you ever went to court after this ordeal.