Slamming a revolving door. Sneezing with your eyes open. Travelling backwards or forwards through time. Tickling yourself. Counting by single integers to infinity. Frankensteining: brining the dead back to life. Licking your elbow. Teaching a dog to speak English. Teaching a cat anything. Uncracking an egg. Calculating all the digits of pi. Discovering a prime number greater than 2. Making Gloria happy.
The common element in that brief list is, of course, impossibility. All those things, at least in our current state of evolution and/or human psychology, are impossible. I know, I know, many of you will want to quibble about the how smart your cat is and how much he/she/it has learned. The more you argue, the more you prove the point.
Now some of those things are simple mathematical tricks. We all know pi is an infinitely repeating number and 2 is the only even prime. And while we may be able to tickle ourselves pink, we can't physically tickle ourselves.
But can anybody seriously argue that soundproof windows — themselves an impossibility — and air conditioning are going to make Ms. Dommer happy?
For those many of you suffering Compromised Short-Term Memory Retention Syndrome, let me refresh, to the extent possible, your memory and apologize for not having addressed this grave matter last week but, what the heck, it was a long weekend and I believed it was more in keeping with the spirit of things to make a feeble attempt to entertain the many visitors milling about town.
Ms. Dommer has a condo at Marketplace, a family, a home in Vancouver, a distaste for excessive icing on cakes, a serious dislike of live music and a belief the RMOW — and possibly the world, but I'm speculating here — owe her peace and quiet on her terms. She is unhappy the RMOW had the temerity to build WOP north in what used to be her peaceful, treed backyard, the forest formerly known as Lot 1/9. She is unhappy the playground was built next to it. And more to the point, she isn't particularly pleased they aren't quiet as a library. Well, not Whistler's library, which now operates under a No-Rules policy but, you know, libraries of olden days when tight-bunned librarians would shush people so often they permanently pursed their thin, disapproving lips.
Apparently the performances by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra and the drunken, operatic encores performed by hooligans at the playground were the straws that finally stirred the camel's drink... or something like that. Ms. Dommer has listed her condo for sale and is considering trying to organize other property owners in the area to take group action against the RMOW. The response thus far has apparently been not unlike my own on those rare instances when someone wearing a tin foil hat approaches me on the street asking whether I've seen the people from Mars wandering around lost.
In the meantime, taking the bull by the ring through its nose, Ms. Dommer has requested compensation for herself. She closed her request by writing, "Make me happy."
I can't imagine compensation is going to do the trick. Ditto soundproof windows and air conditioning. Frankly, I don't believe rolling the clock back to 1999 would either and I don't think any of us want to go through Y2K again just to see if it would.
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