Cat's Cradle

It's your choice

2004-04-07T12:57:00.000-07:00

It is with some irony that I write this last edition of Cat's Cradle, a column that has never before been about cats. This is Cat's Cradle and you are in my world now.

Pet owners tend to become oddly attached to their aimals; they dress them up, they take them out, they learn their preferences. Or so they think.

Next time you stand in the pet food aisle contemplating chicken or tuna, take a moment to consider how odd it is that you, the pet owner, seem to have the notion that you know your cat's preferences because they generally reflect your own. The vegetarian lover selects organic food, the McDonald's lover picks out beef in gravy and those who are old fashioned choose dry kibble. Now this is very generic, but you get my meaning.

When you pick out pet food you are actually buying it for two entities; you and your cat. One wonders if the cat can even tell the difference, if he actually prefers one brand to the next. Of course, you could always believe the advertising that allows you inside a cat's thoughts processess, "kibbles and bits, kibbles and bits and bits." But then you learned a long time ago not to believe everything you see on TV, didn't you?

If there is one thing university teaches us, it is to question. Summer has come again and not soon enough for some. Go out into the world and spread the skeptism of an academic, September comes all too soon. Every story has an end and every editorial comes to a close, but your story is not yet finished. Good luck on your future endeavours!!

Printed in Omega Issue 27 April 7, 2004

More Fad Diets

2004-03-31T10:58:00.000-08:00

South Beach, The Zone, Volumetrics, Ornish... they could be the names of exotic resorts, but no. With Atkins leading the crowd, North America is on the diet craze. This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

Headlines that scream 'the Age of Skinny--Top 10 diets of 2004' appear to be the latest fad summaries. But this 'dietary smorgasboard' was found not in the glossy pages of a trend setting magazines; rather it was a three page feature and cover stor in the Vancouver Sun Newspaper (27/3/04). It's little wonder that people are becoming so caught up in appearances and suffering from eating disorders and self esteem complexes. Not only is pop culture portraying implausibly perfect characters, our newpapers are now reporting Premier Gordon Campbell's sensational success with the Atkins diet (he lost 25 lbs in the last year!). What is the world coming to? I mean if Campbell can do it...

Everyone and their dog has jumped on the Atkins craze and restaurants, even down to McDonalds, are catering to it. Cut out some carbs and eat whatever you want, you can only lose. But let's be honest, without the bun McDonald's hamburgers are just...better left unidentifed.

We've heard it all: the kids are getting fatter, the adults are obese and its not global warming that's causing the oceans to rise, it's the combined weight of North AMericans that is causing the continent to sink. If this round of dieting doesn't appeal, wait a few weeks and another will appear. Because if there is one thing that is certain, we are fighting a losing battle.

Printed in Omega Issue 26 March 31, 2004

On the road again...

2004-03-24T14:13:00.000-08:00

It's that time again! Spring is in the air, people are eager to see the end of winter and Sunday drivers are out in full force. This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

You know the ones I mean: cars that stop abruptly in the middle of the road to gawk at newborn calves as they take their first steps, visitors who pull out lawn chairs on the side of a rural road to listen to the birds sing and, in particular, vehicles that crawl along at 40 km per hour to enjoy the veiw of trees. City drivers really have no idea about the realities of rustic roads. There is little maintenance and lots of potholes, particularly in the spring, lines are faded and signs are vague. There are hills, corners and wildlife on country roads, none of which are significant road hazards but are too often treated with extreme wariness by the infrequent traveler.

It's nice that some people take the time to escape the city by viewing it from their car windows. Unfortunately those picturesque roads that seem to so enchant such sightseers are actually functional infrastructure to those of us who live in rural communites. There is nothing more frustrating than being trapped at a snails pace behind an aging sedan filled with enthusiastic nature-watchers when you actually have a destination and purpose to being on the road. Following slow-moving logging trucks is bad enough, but at least they are predictable and sometimes have the courtesy to let you pass. Elderly tourists randomly stop for squirrels, speed up on the straight stretches and creep inch by painful inch over cattle guards. A sunny afternoon should be spent with the sun on your face, not over your left shoulder.

So, some final advice: when its a nice day for a drive...don't.

Printed in Omega Issue 25 March 24, 2004

Kiss me, I'm Irish

2004-03-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

Do you walk under ladders? Pet black cats? Could you use a little more luck? This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

Rainbows, leprechauns, shamrocks and gold...today is St. Patrick's Day. A day for believing that the impossible can happen and magic is real. A day to celebrate all things Irish. Through famine, conquest, and religious persecution these people survived against all odds. Surely we could use luck like that. Unfortunately, leprechauns seem to be in short supply, but in this wonderous age of technology, there is an alternative.

Beer, dyed emerald green and consumed by the barrelful, will allow you to enter the proper state of mind to spy the elusive leprechaun as he frolics over the table tops. But this is a purely naive, North American solution. Ireland takes its beer seriously and would never (never!) desecrate it with such frivolities as green dye. True Irish drink Guinness in tall frosted pints with condensation beading over the distinctive harp logo. With rebel music pulsing through a shadowy pub, surrounded by friends and foaming ale at your elbow, the luck of the Irish is contagious. You don't have to be Irish to kick up your heels on St. Patty's day; the luck o'the Irish is a possiblity that we all like to believe, just for one day, could be ours.

So wear your shamrocks proudly and never stop believing in the gold at the end of the rainbow; with a little green beer or Guinness, you too could get lucky.

Printed in Omega Issue 24 March 17, 2004

Colours of the World

2004-03-10T19:08:00.000-08:00

Puce, ecru, magenta and fuchsia, vermillion, cochineal, cerulean and azure, the shades of colour are infinite and unpronounceable. This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

How many times have you been asked: auburn or chestnut? mauve or lilac? Distinguishing between specific shades can be as baffling as Ben and Jennifer's relationship. We are very receptive to colour, it affects our moods and emotions and some people are very concerned with effect of specific shades on their appearance.

The media has become obssessed with selling "New and Improved!" And this means the names as well as the products they represent, have to sound different and original. Cosmetics in particular have morphed into another dimension with labels. Perfume is a fairly insubstantial product and its names; Poison, Angel and Exclamation, are therefore reflective of an image, not a product (unless you beleive in advertising). Nail polish and lipstick, which are specific colours but have inevitably become repetitve between brands, are now using labels like; Flirtatious, Tease and Desire. The fashion industry has not resorted to this abstract style of labels it still wishes to reflect colour in its names and so has looked elsewhere for inspiration to describe the colour of clothing. Pumpkin sweaters, eggplant pantsuits, tomato blouses; tangerine, lemon-lime, walnit, apricot, banana, pomegranate... clothes racks read like the produce section in a supermarket. From where will the next inspriation come? Rather than abstract concepts or food, perhaps the next line of colour will be named after famous people, celebrities... Kelly-green anyone?

Printed in Omega Issue 23 March 10, 2004

Car -- schmar, it's a beautiful day to walk

2004-03-03T11:08:00.000-08:00

They com across e-mails daily, they're plastered on walls campus-wide and they can be found by the dozen in the Buy and Sell: 1985 red sports car! Great condition! Low mileage! Good Student Car! This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

Used car ads can be found in abundance on every available surface in a student's line of sight, after all, they are the most affordable. But allow me to translate. These small aging vehicles have been on the road for longer than some students have been alive. They have lower mileage than the trucks that drive weekly commutes between Vancouver and Calgary and their 'good condition' consists of paint chips repaired with nail polish, winter tires that good for summer driving only and an ignition that you have to tap twice before the key turns. Obviously this means it is a good student car; it has the quirks we find endearing, personality if you will, and it will reliably get you from your dorms to the nearest parking lot.

Student cars are ones that perform well on a test drive and will delight you for the first two weeks of ownership. Then it starts. First the battery... but this is your car and it's a small car, batteries are relatively cheap (of course leaving the lights on two days in a row probably didn't help matters much). Then with a scrap of gears and grinding steel, the brakes fail. Following those repairs, the headlights begin to dim, the seatbelt light buzzes incessantly and your brad new battery doesn't charge. But you are now dependant on this rattling heap that you were once so proud of, how will you survive without it?

Next the clutch needs replacing, the radiator cracks, your insurance is almost expired and suddenly walking looks a lot more appealing.

Printed in Omega Issue 22 March 3, 2004

There is no Laughter in Paradise

2004-02-25T19:04:00.000-08:00

What is happiness? Philosophers across campus are no doubt squirming in their seats with the correct idealistic diatribe common to this oft asked question. But let’s leave that query aside for the moment and imagine that everyone was happy, whatever the definition. Imagine just for a moment that everyone, everywhere, had found true happiness. Paradise, Utopia, Cloud nine, Seventh heaven, imagine you were there. It’d be pretty great; you’d have everything you ever wanted, ever wished for. Now consider the logicalities.

Tears come in many forms, for many reasons, not only for sadness. We cry for joy, for sorrow, for irony. We laugh for many of the same reasons. Happiness and bliss, all the time, they leave no room for other emotions. There is no sadness in paradise. And no laughter. Can you imagine a world with no laughter?

We, as I have often remarked, live in a consumer society. It is based on wants and needs and ownership. We work to obtain things, to own property, to better our status and ourselves. It is a society based on discontent, things held just out of reach. But they are things that we believe we need in order to achieve this elusive quality called happiness. Whether it is a shiny, red Porsche or being a Californian blonde; once that car is yours and your hair glows like never before, there is always another goal, a coveted promotion or two-story mansion that you yearn for. The definition of happiness becomes irrelevant; it is not happiness itself that people want. The pursuit of happiness, something just beyond our reach, is what truly contents a person. So the next time you’re asked if you are happy, be careful what you wish for. This is Cat’s Cradle...

Printed in Omega Issue 21 February 25, 2004

Be Mine

2004-02-20T12:46:00.000-08:00

Stores have been heralding he arrival of Valentine's Day since New Years. Cinnamon hearts, candy, chocolates and flowers... we as a society are just overflowing with love at this time. This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

It appears that there is a large controversy surrounding the holiday, and for that reason I was attempting to avoid it in fear of the tone becoming too mushy or bitter or yet another tirade against commercialization. And still the topic continued to recur and bitterness appeared in the attitude of both couples and singles alike.

There are those people who actually enjoy Valentine's Day, who feel it is a break from the stress of midterms and life in general and a reminder to appreciate the relationship she/he is in. But it also seems that everyone has had at least one Valentine's disaster spent alone in a bathrobe, waching sickeningly syrupy TV specials and reflecting on past loves and a history strewn with faded roses and discount candy.

Who is the sadist that dreams up these holidays to torment the general population? On the one day of the year when one is supposed to be in love there is, in reality, only a small percentage of the population who actually beleives that they're happily impaled by Cupid's arrow. In fact, more of these couples are choosing to ignore the inflated prices and over-emphasized sweetness of the holiday in favour of a date that is significant to them personally and uniquely, a date that doesn't echo of the past.

Every month has a holiday: April has Easter, May has Mother's Day, June has Father's Day, July has Canada Day...well, you get the idea. Most of these holidays celebrate love: love of family, love of country etc. What is left to celebrate in February but love itself?

Printed in Omega Isse 20 February 11, 2004

Romance vs. Reality

2004-02-04T19:01:00.000-08:00

Males disdain them, females consider them a guilty pleasure and Harlequin has built an empire on their success. Women’s fiction is quite possibly the best selling genre in the publishing world today. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

There is a difference between women’s fiction and romance novels. Women’s fiction has a plot: mystery or suspense or science fiction with a subplot relationship. Romance novels on the other hand, like those mass-produced by Harlequin, rarely have surprise endings and twisting story lines. Southern belles sashaying by the sea, rogue pirates and brawny warriors, audacious gamblers and pleasure seekers brought to heel by a defiant maid. It seems trite and mindless, and you would be right. Romance is an escapist genre, one that doesn’t have to be read in depth or contemplated at length. One doesn’t read romance for learning enhancement; it’s read for entertainment. It is the same kind of glossy, unreality that can be found in the picture perfect layouts of Maxim and FHM.

Someone once told me that, for males, a strip club was the one place they could go and not think about women because a woman’s role in a strip club is purely superficial. Women at strip clubs are not there to be approached and befriended, they are there for entertainment value. Just as supple, bronzed women wrapped around poles is slightly removed from reality; sinewy biceps and rippling pectorals sometimes seem equally hard to come by. And faced with the reality of a tall, dark-haired stranger with a commanding gaze and demanding voice, women today are more likely to rise to the challenge and show him his place, rather than faint willingly into his burly arms. So when the real world is just too much to take, open the embossed cover of “Ecstasy’s Fancy” and lose yourself in the passion of a flaxen-haired heroine because you have something she never will....

Printed in Omega Issue 19 February 4, 2004

But in the End...

2004-01-28T18:58:00.000-08:00

The written word is often more powerful than we give it credit for. Particularly in a post-secondary institution we should be aware of that power. History entails looking at documents of the past to understand that time period. Literature is an examination of great writers of the past and what they have lent to the future. Contemporary literature studies Margaret Atwood and she isn’t even dead yet. Philosophy studies the ideas of late thinkers. Generations to come will study what we leave behind for centuries to come; even such common things as newspapers are archived for future use. Shouldn’t we take care with what is put into print?

Rules are meant to be broken. Particularly as young adults, and some not so young, we reach a point where rules stop applying to us. Once we get beyond this point (hopefully) and realize the rules are there for a reason (supposedly in our best interest), it is hoped that they will be abided by. Rules of literature may be purposely broken, often quite effectively. One must know the disregarded rule and be aware of its effects and consequences. Careless disregard of such rules results in sloppily written text, consequently the message of the material may be lost or confused.

Individual words have impact with their meaning, context and placement in a sentence. At times it is not what is said that has the most impact, but what is left unsaid. But, as a word, can be used minimally at the beginning of a sentence. More likely it is a qualifier in the middle. But the consequences of finding it at the end of a sentence are the most damaging. For example: right now, you may be telling yourself, “I really enjoy reading this column but...”

Printed in Omega Issue 18 January 28, 2004

Fear of the Unknown

2004-01-14T18:53:00.000-08:00

Are you afraid of the dark? Of things that go bump in the night? Of watching eyes and sharp teeth bared in a menacing snarl? Can you imagine a lithe black hand that grips your ankle before it pulls you under and tell me that you aren’t terrified? This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

We, as adults, still have myriad throwbacks from childhood. How many people can’t sleep without some part of a sheet or blanket touching them, no matter how hot or uncomfortable? The boogieman is alive and thriving. Is there one movie that absolutely terrified you when you first saw it and you now refuse to watch it ever again? The Black Crystal? Labyrinth? The Shining? Jaws? Anything by Hitchcock? I dare you to watch it again; I’ll bet it’s not as scary as you thought. After all, scary movies now are often pretty predictable even with all the new special effects. Old movies, lacking such technology, can hardly be more daunting. The main reason Hitchcock was so effective in his time is not because of the focus of the fear or the subject, but the tension created. Fear comes from the unknown. Once an enemy or danger is known, it ceases to be feared and becomes a thing to be confronted and bested. Signs was hailed as a great movie, one that kept you on the edge of your seat. And it did. Rustling in cornfields, half-seen movement out of the corner of the eye. Once the subject is revealed as a skinny alien, sceptism takes over. Adrenalin, endorphins...humans are able to cope with what’s in front of them. But being hunted by the unseen, the unknown, that is true fear. What is it that you can’t see?

Printed in Omega Issue 16 January 14, 2004

Signs

2004-01-07T18:51:00.000-08:00

The holidays are a great time to travel: leisurely trips to see the world or obligatory visits to relatives and family. Many students are recently returned from such trips. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

We have a consumer society and marketing has quickly changed the consolatory “size isn’t important” into the affirmative, “Size does matter!” This is the age of promotion: upsize, supersize and upsell. One would assume this to extend to cities and communities, and they would be right. Everyone is vying for greater visibility in the public eye. On your return to Kamloops did you happen to notice the signs welcoming you to the city? No? But did you notice Merritt's interlacing pillars, Kelowna’s Ogopogo or Golden’s carved arch? Most likely. These signs are large and colourful and right on the main highways. Kamloop’s signs are the same green and blue plaques that direct you to exits in 2km or cities in 456km. Reading is a compulsion for those that know how to read well, you can’t help yourself from reading billboards and licence plates or bumper stickers. But drivers soon become immune to these blue and green road signs simply because they are useless until searching for a particular exit and because they are so numerous, if one is missed another will be along presently.

Kamloops is a large sprawling city so it may be argued that the signs are missing because the borders of the city are questionable. After all, there are signs inside the city itself: at the entrance to the Northshore going over the Overlander bridge and entering the city centre from Valleyview. But the signs aren’t missing, they are posted on the outskirts of the city and they are small and seemingly insignificant. Is this the message we wish to send: a city that is contending for University status and greater significance as a tourist and tournament centre?

Printed in Omega Issue 15 January 7, 2004

Christmas time in the Small City!

2003-12-03T18:28:00.000-08:00

With stress levels running at moderate to high during exams, Christmas is creeping up on the unwary. This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now. For all the varied people on your gift list, it's time to hit the shops and start thinking about the holidays. In Kamloops that means Aberdeen Mall. Once you've scanned the first floor, scoured the second and retraced your steps a third time for good measure, it's time to look elsewhere. Sahali, Thompson Park, Columbia Square, these are limited options. Some people begin to travel in their desperation to find that unique, heart-felt, carefully thought-out gift that people in the age of big box stores are looing for. After all, who wants to give a friend a trinket that is mass-produced and lined up three deep on the shelves at Wal-Mart.

So, they go to Vernon, Kelowna or Vancouver in the hopes that a larger city will offer better shopping prospects and they find... the same stores that line the halls of Aberdeen Mall, only on a larger scale. Granted you will find a greater variety of smaller, privately owned specialty shops, but that requires searching the often elusive side streets of an unfamiliar city for a store that you are not entirely sure exists. It also poses the difficulty of finding your way back to an area that is vaguely recognizable.

Shopping in a world of name brand stores and chains with an outlet in every town does present some problems. You could always attach a gift tag featuring the adventure of a lifetime that secured a gift from a far away city (even though the same item can be found in your own). And then, of course, there is always the Internet.

Good luck on your exams, kids! Happy Holidays!

Printed in Omega Issue 14 Decenber 3, 2003

Children in the Snow

2003-11-26T18:19:00.000-08:00

There is something about snow that just brings out the child in us all. Last week the first large snowfall of the year blanketed Kamloops and it still decorates our campus.

Most students are aware of the daycare on campus, I’m sure. It is a common sight to see a string of rosy cheeked children romping in front of the CAC. With the coming of snow those same children are wedged into one-piece snowsuits of pink and blue with mittens secured in the sleeves and towing shiny florescent crazy carpets. Besides burrowing through and sliding over it, these children delight in rolling snow into balls for building. For those who missed it, there was a dog-like snowman erected beside A&E and another, complete with tree branch arms, buttons and a smiling face atop one of the hills in the common area between buildings.

Three hours later both had been tackled, the large compact spheres shattered. Neither the erecting nor the tumbling of these snowmen was done by the daycare children.

This is not to mention the heated battles waged over the walls created by the snowplough or the good-natured assault of long-suffering students between classes. No, these events were carried out by children of a certain age, conscientious scholars aware of the real word and responsibilities (most of the time), young adults living in their youth... That’s right, numerous members of our very own student body reduced themselves to playing in the snow like children. And it wasn’t even silly. That’s the great thing about snow, you’re never too old to enjoy it. Break out the one-piece snowsuits; it’s wintertime!

Printed in Omega Issue 13 November 26, 2003

Popcorn for the World

2003-11-19T18:12:00.000-08:00

As a snack or a meal, for socializing or for sustenance; microwave popcorn has become a compulsory food source. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

The unmistakable aroma of imitation butter and genetically engineered corn popping to life in the radioactive confines of a microwave are sure to make your mouth water. Conversely that same distinctive odour in a room not accompanied by cheerful popping, will make you wrinkle your nose. Microwave popcorn is only appreciated if you are the one eating it. Which means that those people, who use communal machines to pop their handy snack, must be prepared to share, or endure snide comments of disgust. Of course not everyone eats popcorn (carbs), butter (fat) or microwaveable items (radioactive) and so one must endure their snide comments regardless (it’s probably envy of your nutritious, savoury cuisine).

Jiffy Pop and other types of campfire popcorn are undoubtedly the most amusing; generally because it’s always a production: arguing over technique and direction and the finished product is usually a bomb (sometimes literally). Campfire popcorn can provide hours of entertainment and a great story for reminiscing. Of course everyone also has his own in-house experience with traditional popping machines. Lids that were misplaced, a button repeatedly pushed because nothing was happening, et voila! Bursts of fluffy corn bounce their way all over the kitchen to the dismay of the homeowner and the hilarity of the participants!

Popcorn is a staple in so many traditions: caramel corn for Halloween, popcorn strands for Christmas... It is part of the ritual of movie theatres, (indeed film viewing at any time) camping, dieting (dry and saltless, but no fat or calories) and can be coloured and flavoured for any occasion you could dream up. How boring a place would this world be without popped corn?

Printed in Omega Issue 12 November 19, 2003

What is the water coming to?

2003-11-12T18:09:00.000-08:00

Water is a hot commodity these days and promises to become only more coveted as time passes. It started with water coolers replacing drinking fountains. Now we are turning to bottled water instead of water from the faucet, but not merely bottled water; this product is designer. Bottled water is a competitive industry with Brand names, complex technology and superior advertising. Have you ever really looked at your bottled water? It has a list of complicated ingredients just like all packaged food today: demineralised water and ozone. Fancy stuff. Modern technology claims it has found the way to add an extra oxygen molecule to water to give athletes an added boost. No one ever paused to ask that if H2O became H2O2, maybe it’s not water anymore. Isn’t that false advertising?

Some labels also have nutrition information in the form of charts that we are all familiar with, so many grams of cholesterol per serving etc. Water charts claim: no fat, no sugar, no artificial colours... no kidding! Well, this product certainly is a miracle in a bottle isn’t it? I mean how many items on the shelf can match that? Incomparable marketing, that’s what that is. In addition are the romantic depictions on the labels of flowing waterfalls, steamy rainforests and idyllic lakes. Ancient sources that have been a supply of fresh water since time immemorable have now been tapped and brought to the grocer nearest you. Waiting since the dawn of time for Pepsi (producer of Aquafina), Coke (Dasani) or Nestle (Aberfoyle) to scoop this precious refreshment into a decal clad plastic bottle... and clearly stamp it with an expiry date.

Water may in fact be a valuable natural resource and more so into the future, but let’s make sure the marketers don’t get ahead of themselves. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

Printed in Omega Issue 10 November 12, 2003

If the Shoe fits

2003-11-05T17:54:00.000-08:00

Eight shelves of shoes and a box of them in the back of the closet for emergencies may seem excessive, but for some it is a requirement. Those people seem to justify this necessity with all kinds of lame excuses: "Shoes are a form of self-expression", "I need them to match all my outfits, don't I?" and my favorite, "shoes seperate us from the lower mammals".

Scientists may now rest assured. We have the undeniable evidence that humans are in fact the most superior life form on earth; they wear shoes. So do horses though, but horseshoes aren't really a form of self expression now are they? Indeed, as Forrest Gump observed, much can be told about a person from their shoes, "where they're going, where they've been..." You get the idea. Shoes also say a lot about a person's personality, profession and style. Style thoug is a changeable concept. Fashion, trends, fads... it's so hard to keep up. Some individuals do keep up and you must commend them for their efforts because... well, because they care and it's important for them.

Self-esteem is closely tied to appearances. This is why there are daily reports on the damage the media is doing by using picture perfect, computer enhanced models. The real world is not picture perfect and computer enhanced no matter how hard we wish. Granted not everyone wishes for perfection, (particularly our highly educated student body who obviously knows better) but there is still an awareness of the standards.

Shoes are an accessory by which humans are elevated above other mammals. "Accessories make the outfit," fashion co-ordinators warn, do not be frivolous in your choices. These are important decisions that every man, woman and child must make for themself. More than just your own ego is involved. Do you know how many pairs of shoes I own? Neither do I and isn't that lovely?

Printed in Omega Issue 10 November 5, 2003

Where's your Individuality?

2003-10-29T22:22:00.000-08:00

Holidays (and occasions masquerading as holidays) are becoming increasingly commercialized. If you have any doubt you have only to look at the upcoming Halloween. Granted, it is not a holiday but most like to pretend it is and everyone uses it as an excuse to break the monotony of an ordinary workweek. Candy, convenient bite size bars in festive packaging, goes on sale in September. Now, is that really necessary? For marketers maybe.

Does it take an entire month to stockpile enough treats to feed the hordes of children who flock to your door? Obviously not. More often you find yourself making several trips to the grocer to replace the chocolate you thought you would buy early in order to be ready and organized...and ended up eating yourself. Maybe there's something to be said for giving out raisins.

In addition, the decorations that crowd storefronts are becoming trite. Surly such shopworn favorites as plastic spiders and cotton batting that sticks to everything and is practically impossible to get rid of, have been done to death. Where is the originality people are emphasizing over and over again? Let's boycott brand names and factory goods because they are all the same and subsequently arrive at a party all dressed as Dracula. Oh that's right; because it is a tradition!

Certainly there is something to be said for traditions. Special rituals performed within a certain group, to evoke fond memories of times past when the same traditions held sway. It is quite another thing completely to allow traditions to be dictated by bargain store ideas of holiday fun. Break out of the mold and make Halloween your event. Trick or Treat doesn't always equal black and orange crepe paper, ghosts and gouls. Remember what Halloween actually means to you, why it's a special occasion and excersize your creativity.

Printed in Omega Issue 9 October 29, 2003

The Multi-Facets of a Female

2003-10-22T16:15:00.000-07:00

As those of you who have met me will know, I am female. For those of you who don’t know me, now you know. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

I am considered female in the more traditional sense; one of those particularly fussily feminine types. I even cook. My question is: how is it that in this enlightened age (post-feminist), society still has a ‘traditional sense’ of feminity? Not that it isn’t acceptable to act outside of this idea; it is. No one judges a woman who plays soccer or who has short hair. Some are even impressed by a woman who knows more about cars than most men. But we still label them as something other than female; a tomboy, a guys girl, and then there is that which is the epitome of feminity - the blonde. I recently had occasion to be asked most exasperatedly by numerous people, “When did you go blonde?” Now, I noticeably am not blonde (being a brunette) and as we all know these people were inquiring into my state of mind (or lack there of) and not my hair colour. Maybe blondes really do have more fun and the rest of us who are unable to understand the blonde mentality have made it a derogatory term out of pure jealousy. Heard any good blonde jokes lately? Were any of them about blonde men? No? Clearly this label (stereotypical big breasted, peroxide blonde with no brains) is not about hair colour, it is about a female ‘type’: the femme fatale, the ingenue, the girl next door. Women in our society are being typecast into acceptable roles. Ladies! It’s time for the revolution to continue! To start there are these three women: a blonde, a brunette and a redhead...

Printed in Omega Issue 8 October 22, 2003

A Time of Indulgence

2003-10-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

Well, with Thanksgiving just past and Halloween in sight, how many have had too much turkey and are dreaming of candy? This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas and New Years... the fall and winter holidays are all about indulgence. They are events meant to break up the monotony of winter and our daily lives, excuses for which we spoil ourselves and take a break from work and school (it’s really too bad Halloween isn’t an observed holiday. Don’t you need another day off? Thanksgiving was just so long ago and you need a long weekend at least to celebrate properly.)

Thanksgiving is from the time of the pilgrims (you know this story), a time of simplicity and hardship and hard work. Thanksgiving today is about gorging and pampering and having fun; also family, but the important part is the turkey, right? Who has time to think about preparing for winter when there’s a holiday to exploit?

Last weekend was also the full moon. Now, who knows a friend of a friend who used to work in a mental hospital on the night of the full moon? Were they also there on Thanksgiving? You know that’s just got to be a bad combination: full moons, crazy people and too much turkey. Really though, the full moon does affect many people making them do strange things and not get enough sleep. Add in nightmares of turkeys and pilgrims and you have yourself a winning formula.

There is just something about food that comforts people. We celebrate with feasting, distract ourselves by eating, socialize over it and soothe our fears with it. For every instance there is food to help us through. What’s your excuse?

Printed in Omega Issue 7 October 15, 2003

The Life Lessons of Reality TV

2003-10-08T14:20:00.000-07:00

What travels as fast as the wind, but has no feet, can harm a man (or woman) but has no hands?

Come on now, we all know the answer to this one. How about the story about a woman who empties a bag of feathers and the next day attempts to collect them all again? Remember that moral? The woman couldn't find all the feathers again. Like a rumour, they have spread all through the town and some carry even farther, never to be recovered.

That's right, the answer to both riddles is rumour. It does everyoe good to be reminded once in a while of how the flippant comments we often toss in casual conversation, no matter what our age, can be hurtful and how fast and how far such comments can travel. There is nowhere a phrase spreads faster than in an area where people are in constant contact with one another; work places, social circles and classes. Schools and campuses, conveniently, are a blend of all three. Therefore, I cleverly deduce that the rumour mill is humming at UCC.

The best example I know of casual remarks tossed quickly out of context and thrown into a tremendous drama is on Reality TV. In today's modern programs of rapid dating and instant fame a criticisim that would be instantly forgotten in the real world, erupts into hatred of outrageous proportions. Especially when competition is thrown into the mix. Ever seen Survivor? A once cohesive group falls into shambles with a few convenient rumours fanning the flames. Not that our quaint campus is the setting of Survivor circumstances, but as I astutely observed earlier it is a hotbed of gossip...and competition. Not everyone can get an A or B. So scrabble over the scraps, compare notes and mumble under your breath if you must, but remember to mind your manners and watch what you say. After all, lets not get carried away.

This is civilization you know.

Printed in Omega Issue 6 October 8, 2003

Call it an Addiction...

2003-10-01T15:37:00.000-07:00

Fragrant steam wafts from the warm, glossy surface. Rich flavour surges through your body at that first gratifying taste... Coffee. It does make the world go ‘round; certainly it sustains students and countless other people throughout the day. Some people depend on the first jolt to get them functioning in the morning, others enjoy the comfort of a warm cup before retiring for the night, still more use it as a social event. Dessert, meal replacement, food supplement ... there are numerous ways society enjoys its coffee.

By now everyone has discovered the new Tim Horton's venue on Campus, despite it’s clever disguise. Donuts baked fresh, muffins, tarts and scones on demand. But the real claim to fame - so much so they are even now marketing specialty machines and a secret brand - is of course the coffee. Never mind the fact that we all know caffeine is addicting, there’s something special about Tim’s coffee.

But not everyone enjoys the strong flavours of coffee. Our society is addicted to caffeine in all it’s multiple forms; chocolate and carbonated beverages being a favoured variety. There are those people who can’t make it through a day without a can of Coke (or Pepsi). Still not identifying? Do you habitually carry lip-gloss? Chew on your writing utensils? Habits, routine... an addiction. The public is warned of the dangers of addiction. Smoking and drugs are a prime example, but the fact is everyone has addictions. Whether they’re healthy or not is for you to decide. Society certainly encourages them; “Buy Pepsi!”, “New improved coffee!”, “Grab a Snickers!”

Marketing schemes are playing on your weaknesses. This is Cat’s Cradle. Admit your addiction.

Printed in Omega Issue 5 October 1, 2003

A Lesson in Sharing

2003-09-24T13:49:00.000-07:00

Having settled into the routine of school, making new friends and finding classrooms on the first try, many people are now beginning to discover the joys of roomates. For some this is their first experience sharing space with someone other than their family -- and let me tell you, it's a lot of fun (no, really). Others are veterans, having survived past roomates, and are laying down the rules to guarentee their own peace of mind.

Roomates mean built in friends, permanent company and somebody you can always talk to. Plus, you're never alone so there's always someone to scare away the boogieman (provided your afraid of the dark).

On the hand, strange men with hair down to their waist and a foreign accent greet you at your own door. Dishes pile up on the counters in the kitchen and no one seems to know who actually used them. The empty milk carton has been put back in the fridge (again!) and the juice container (still!) has a centimetre of fermenting liquid in the bottom. Someone else always has the good spot on the couch and the person in control of the remote changes the channel every 15 minutes. Odd scents from varied diets waft out of the kitchen, the combined flavours making an unpalatable mix in the air. You come home one night to find that all your clothes have been rifled through and your favorite pair of shoes is missing because your roomate "just had absolutely nothing to wear!"

Sharing space seems to mean sharing clothes, food, friends and discovering all the tiny annoying things one person can have. Things that aren't annoying or even noticeable to you are another person's pet peeve and that person will end up as your roomate everytime. Tolerance seems to be the lesson of the day.

This is Cat's Cradle and you're in my world now.

Printed in Omega Issue 4 September 24, 2003

The Art of Flirtation

2003-09-17T22:50:00.000-07:00

Newsflash for all those bar-going singles on the prowl: pick-up lines are no longer suave; flirting is an art.

This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

Secret glances and shy smiles will make you the centre of attention if done correctly. If not your overdone posturing and coy looks could be completely misconstrued. Don’t take me wrong, this not a lesson in flirting, this is a warning. Pick-up lines are cheesy and over-rated. The sweet, the raunchy, the ones that “work”; there are pages of pick-up lines on the internet and everyone has their own growing list of frequently heard phrases. On the other hand, they are cliche for a reason. Many pick-up lines, no matter how well known, are still clever. So while you can’t drop a one liner hoping for a giddy response and a declaration of lust, feel free to use it as a conversation starter, beginning with your own personal favourites.

Similarly, other tried and true techniques of flirting are becoming to well known for their own good. Eyelash batting can lead to concerned inquiries about “something in your eye”, a playful giggle can cause sideways glances and a quick shuffle to the opposite side of the room, a charming smile could likewise have your target making a rapid retreat. Make sure that your practised techniques are practised before use and don’t look that way. Just a tip: Flirting needs to be preformed with genuine delight from both players and a grain of salt, don’t take yourself too seriously. Fake, obvious or desperate don’t work and aren’t fun. This is a game that is meant to be enjoyed.

So, my favourite pick-up line?

“Do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk by again?”

Printed in Omega Issue 3 September 17, 2003

Upsell or Overdone?

2003-09-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

On your final trek between school supply stores to find the best deals on paper or pick up one more box of pens ‘just in case’ take a moment and listen to the clerk.

When she asks if you need erasers or white out, slap palm to forehead and gasp, “Of course! That’s exactly what I’m missing!” Then examine the erasers at the checkout counter. Upon meticulously searching through the box, you decide that none are really right for you and therefore plead with the clerk to find: The Perfect One. Sure it’s holding up the ever accumulating line, but hey, it was her idea in the first place, right?

Everyone from grocery stores to office supplies to clothing outlets is striving to up-sell. Just think, it all began with McDonald’s innocent query, “do you want fries with that?” Most people simply ignore service people; tapping their feet and shaking their heads impatiently at the clerks’ quiet questions.

The only time you notice a clerk is if you are one (and then it’s to assess their performance, “Aha! I know that code without looking it up!” And smugly pass through the line) or if you know the clerk as a friend. You can then engage her in a lively conversation about the last beer hazed weekend the two of you shared. Meanwhile the rest of the waiting customers can listen avidly (like they care) as your friend details exactly what she wore, who was there, how much she drank, as well as all the juicy gossip.

So the next time a salesperson asks if you need a belt or purple socks ... exclaim, “Obviously! That’s exactly what this outfit needs! Why didn’t I think of that before?”

Printed in Omega Issue 2 September 10, 2003

The Great Thing About Spring

2003-04-02T20:58:00.000-08:00

As winter gives its dying gasp and slips away by its fingertips, spring is sauntering forth and students on campus are embracing it with open arms. The sun is shining, the grass is greening and the sky is blue. What is it about spring that so cheers people? The warm, embracing rays of sun? It’s yellow, life-giving light? Baby animals taking their first steps in the world? Or is it Easter, a chocolate holiday of the best kind? But no, it is none of these things. Spring means finals and students are looking forward, not to exams, but to summer. Long days languishing on the beach, ogling scantily clad members of the opposite sex and BBQ’s in the backyard. But before we get to summer, there are still exams to conquer. Let’s remind ourselves of what we’ve learned this semester.

Procrastination is a terrible habit but there are 12 steps for those who admit they have a problem. Your time is valuable but don’t look so far into the future that you can’t enjoy the now. Cleaning day only happens once a year; today is not the time or the place. People have a brain that is either creative or mathematical but can also be both; try to use at least one side. Stock up on chocolate, chips and beer, our society as a whole is dependant on them, or at least the first. Above all remember, “this too shall pass” and so shall you. Now its spring: warm energizing sunshine, life-giving yellow light, and baby animals ... well, you get the idea.

Good luck on your exams kids! Enjoy the summer!

Printed in Omega Issue 26 April 2, 2003

A Chocolate Society

2003-03-26T20:27:00.000-08:00

White, dark, milk! Peanuts, almonds, raisins and Rice Krispies! Caramel, mint, ice cream and Turkish Delight! Is there anything this sinfully sweet treat doesn’t go with? Arguably a food group of its own, there is not a person around who hasn’t experienced the smooth taste of chocolate.

Hot chocolate in the winter, mocha in the morning, hearts when you’re in love. There is always a time and an occasion for chocolate. It even makes diet shakes and energy bars palatable. At least once a month there is a holiday worthy of celebrating with chocolate: Santa’s on Christmas, bells at New Year’s, Hearts for St. Valentine, Shamrocks for St. Patrick, Easter and Halloween which are virtual chocolate holidays in their own right, even leaves to celebrate the coming of autumn.

Our culture is riddled with holidays and chocolate is taking over. It is even consuming our spare time with music and slogans. Take a break with Kit Kat, the media urges. “Grab a Snickers!” “Oh Hungry? Oh Henry!” We see chocolate as anything from a quick, easy snack just to tide you over, a treat to reward or a gift that can say everything from, “I love you” to “Thanks for looking after my goldfish”. Is there anywhere we are not confronted with vending machines or colourful displays of vibrantly wrapped and labeled bars? It seems that this is indeed a society of chocolate addicts and that we are being actively addicted. Can you break the cycle? Are you strong enough to renounce the habit and say ‘NO!’? Not in this day and age, chocolate is ingrained in our rituals and has become part of our daily routines.

So whether its commercials or coffee breaks, a romantic evening, celebratory dinner or meal replacement, chocolate takes the cake. Tell me, what’s your flavour?

Printed in Omega Issue 25 March 26, 2003

Of Love and Lotteries and Psychics

2003-03-19T20:11:00.000-08:00

“Love is like the Lottery, you can’t win if you’re not playing.” But exactly how good are the odds, anyway?

Some people have given up on the Lottery, they played for years and didn’t win a thing, then perhaps a freak accident, a ticket that should have been cancelled, but wasn’t , turned out to be a big winner. Others persevere insisting that it’s their turn next, that their time is coming. “Idiot tax” my high school math teacher called it and how true is that? Week after week, year after year we dutifully tuck away tickets that will change our futures ... ‘change our futures’ ... yet another cryptic phrase. How often have you read in your horoscope: “today you will get a promotion/meet someone/find a stray cat (you get the idea) that will change your future” but even if you did meet that person how could it ever be proved that they changed your future, the future is unknowable, except, I suppose by those gifted enough to see it. I say this with some cynicism; you’ve heard it before, why don’t we ever see headlines: “Psychic wins lottery” and how many of them do you think are divorced?

So while we may be disillusioned with psychics and Lotteries, how many people still believe in love? Because in spite of all the scientific technology and studies that show to the contrary, people still fervently believe in soul mates, romantic love and love at first sight. I thought Romanticism ended in the 1870’s; who knew chivalry was still alive?

So pay your idiot tax, read your horoscope, ignore the psychics and if you look hard enough at each person you pass on the street, you may just find the love of your life. Hey, you never know, it could work. Can you imagine...[singsong 649 jingle].

Printed in Omega Issue 24 March, 2003

Procrastinators Anon

2003-03-19T20:06:00.000-08:00

This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now. A world of idyllic moments, artistic interpretation and late assignments. As University students none of us are immune to that great compelling force: procrastination. Ahhh … to while away the weekends sleeping late, staying out all night, catching up with friends and then on Monday night to frantically pound out an assignment due Tuesday; only to find that the printer has jammed and the disk won’t save. Most often the things one procrastinates with aren’t all that fun anyhow, it’s just the lesser of two evils: cleaning your room instead of Geography homework or vacuuming the car in lieu of an English essay. It’s all a matter of priorities.

UCC offers numerous courses to help the frazzled student tame these bad habits; Essay Writing Assistance, Writing Workshops or Time Management … but who can find the time? What we really need is a Twelve Step Program. Something with a pledge, weekly meetings and a support system, a place where you are able to stand up and proudly say, “Hi my name is Bob and I did all my assignments last semester a week before they were due.” People will clap congratulations, celebrate the achievement of good work ethic and you in turn will help others like you to change their ways. The buddy system could be invoked and the next time the phone rings as you contemplate a sunny morning, it will be a friendly voice, caring only for your well being and encouraging you to finish one more essay. But should you fall off the wagon and stay up until 2am with that history paper, there will be a room full of warm understanding people ready to pull you back from the dark abyss of late nights and computer crisis.

Welcome to Procrastinators Anonymous. The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Printed in Omega Issue 23 March 12, 2003

Father Time

2003-03-05T13:57:00.000-08:00

Our lives are made merely of moments, weeks and months that become years. There is an old saying: "Every hour wounds, the last one kills." How many of those hours do you suppose you spend in line, waiting....waiting....

Grocery stores, banks, malls, restaurants, theatres; is there anywhere we are not held up? Even in your own home television programs are constantly interrupted, always right at the essential, edge of your seat moment, so then you wait through commercial after commercial. After the first five, you no longer remember what the show was about anyway and that breathless moment is gone. Is it any wonder kids now have microscopic attention spans?

The world today is on speed. Everything must be faster, bigger and more efficient. As consumer services become shorter and sweeter, the inevitable waiting becomes interminable. Consequently it seems to slow us down. And this is intolerable! Waiting? In this day and age you say? Inexcusable!

It's really not worth it. Calm yourself down, breathe deeply and the next time you are at a red light twitching with the wasting time, roll down the window and breathe in the approach of spring. Time only wastes if you let it. Treasure each moment no matter where you are and it won't be a waste of time: it will be a precious moment.

Father Time ticks on relentlessly and whether you tell him to stop or not there is no holding back the clock. You have two options in dealing with this reality; kicking and screaming and being dragged unwilling or skippig gaily along unmindful of the grey shadow pacing alongside. The first will gain you nothing and though for a while (with the aid of cosmetics and technology) you may seem to win, the day will come and will wake up...old. Go without a fuss and enjoy the trip and aging will be just another adventure.

There is another saying (actually I saw it as a bumper sticker): "Time is the best teacher...but it kills all its students." This too is true so don't wait too long to learn your lessons.

Posted in Omega Issue 22 March 5, 2003

St. Comet Day

2003-02-26T13:35:00.000-08:00

What is the idea of regular cleaning days? Some people set aside a specific day for cleaning and others wait until they’re “in the mood” to tackle it all in one fell swoop. But is one ever really “in the mood”? Do you miss cleaning if you put it off long enough? When you open the cupboard and gaze upon lemon-scented polish, disinfectant and toilet cleaner do you sigh reminiscently, run you fingertip along Mr. Cleans’ chiselled biceps and say, “it’s been too long”?

Of course if it has been way too long the neighbours will begin to complain. There was an ‘Oddity’ in the Kamloops Daily News (12/21/02) in which a mans’ house was levelled. He had left almost 450 guinea pigs to run loose in the home. The floors were covered with sheets of plastic and periodically the owner hauled them into the backyard to dispose of the waste. Tell me that’s not disgusting. But I digress.

Some people actually are compulsive cleaners. It relaxes them, gives them a sense of order. You’ve seen ‘Friends’, right? Monica could be the lady next door. But is cleaning really a good use of your time? Don’t you have better things to do, like your semi-annual dentist appointment? So the solution?

Let’s set aside a compulsory “Cleaning Day”. The celebration of “St. Comet”, a universal day set aside when people can exchange mops and give the gift of Febreze. A day when dust will rise, dispelled from you home only to settle upon the neighbours, but he, obviously, will be cleaning as well and thus on that one day a resounding shout will echo around the world, “My house is clean!”

Happy St. Comet Day from Cat’s Cradle.

Posted in Omega Issue 21 February 26, 2003

Enter "The Country"

2003-02-12T13:31:00.000-08:00

The country. It has become the idyllic getaway that dreams are made of. Away from the hustle and bustle, lights and noise of big (or small) city life. I live in “the country”. Thirty-six acres of pristine forest straight up the side of a mountain. Let me tell you a story.

The days begin to shorten, daylight savings comes and goes. The first snowfall of the year sifts layer after layer of blanketing snow on the quiet landscape. Leaving campus in the pitch black, just after a 3pm class, you think how pretty it is, pure white snow falling softly, silently in the night (that is really afternoon).

The sander hasn’t been up the road yet and the snowplough was by hours ago. You follow a long line of cars out of the city and crawl up the slippery, winding road. It takes an extra half-hour to get home.

The snow is not so pretty anymore, deep banks of it looming ominous in the dark. It has stopped snowing as you finally arrive home, taking three attempts to get up the driveway. You step cautiously out of the car and land in a painful heap. It rained before it began to snow and once the sun went down, everything froze. Cats whine in feigned sympathy around your ankles as you climb carefully to your feet. The frigid silence of a cold dark house envelops you but the dogs soon set up a demanding ruckus for food. You can see your breath as you move through the house dropping your bags and flipping on lights as you go.

The fire is no more than a memory, not even a wisp of smoke and there’s no more wood inside. You bundle into layers of socks, thermal boots, a padded jacket, mitts and toque (discovering that one of the dogs has eaten the tassel again) and waddle outside to wade through knee high drifts, carting armload after armload of soggy firewood indoors. A roar in the silence startles you enough that you drop you current load of wood on your insulated toes. Off balance, your feet fly out from under you and, for the second time that night, land in a painful heap. The neighbour starts his tractor and the rumble of well oiled machinery responds. Rubbing your tender posterior, you begin to collect the dropped fuel, grumbling. You have the longest driveway on the street and are the only one without a tractor. Some people have all the luck.

Bundled in three blankets you sit shivering before the struggling fire that is your only source of heat and wait for warmth. Glancing outside you realize it started to snow again.

The good news is that the Ground hog didn’t see his shadow and spring is almost here.

Printed in Omega Issue 20 February 12, 2003

Which Brain are you using?

2003-02-05T13:26:00.000-08:00

I am a Leo and an arts student at UCC. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

My goal at this fine educational facility is to obtain a BA, English major. I have always admired students who aspire to be math majors. Admired them... but I will never understand their desire. Obviously this is because they think with the wrong side of their brain. I, of course, think with the right side. Literally. Not that being mathematically minded is wrong, but as I said before, it’s hard for me.

I think with the right side of my brain, or so scholarly people who study such things tell me. The right side is the creative side, intuitive, musical...that kind of thing. There are no numbers on the right side. Numbers are for left lobe thinkers... mathematical, analytical and rational. Then there are those who are good at everything, like accountants who paint in their free time. These gifted individuals use their entire brain, switching smoothly from one lobe to the other and back, like a car changing lanes. People who are ambidextrous have the ability to use either hand with equal ease. Michelangelo was ambidextrous, when one hand tired of painting; he switched to the other.

Fleming, Einstein and Franklin (who signed the Declaration of Independence with his left hand) were all ambidextrous. Queen Victoria was left-handed and became ambidextrous.

Both of these skills, thinking with both sides of the brain and ambidexterity, can be learned. With a great deal of practice you too could learn to handwrite with your left hand (or right as the case may be). It then follows that one could also learn to consciously use the side of the brain used more rarely now. There could be hope for me and math yet.

So what was Ben Affleck thinking when he proposed to J. Lo? And which side of her brain was communications director, Francoise Ducros, using when she referred to George W. Bush as a ‘Moron’.... Well, that’s a no-brainer.

Printed in Omega Issue 19 February, 5 2003

String Games, Horseplay and a Bookworm...

2003-01-29T23:54:00.000-08:00

More and more computers are becoming the focus of our lives. We use them in recreation, communication, employment and schools. So much so that the question becomes: what don’t we do with computers?

I mean really, games, email, essays; they do it all and more. Who doesn’t have at least one burnt CD in their collection? Think of it, when was the last time you built a blanket fort? Arguably you may have outgrown such childish pastimes but the point is, when was the last time you even thought of it? Too often we are content to follow, remember once in a while to be the initiator. Start a game of touch football to see who stays standing the longest. Curl up with a book and immerse yourself in another time.

Have you ever watched a group of kids while they’re waiting in a line? They begin to amuse themselves. You remember... clapping hands, snapping fingers and a rollicking song, “Miss Molly had a steamboat... ” String games as well come into play. One of the easiest is Cat’s Cradle. But if you don’t know it, it can be frustrating.

Cat’s Cradle is generally played with a partner and the objective is to wind a string around a friends fingers and then remove it without becoming entangled. Through a series of figures the string is passed between you and your friend, eventually returning to the original figure. This game takes patience, cooperation and problem solving, useful skills really. So get yourself away from the computer and tie one on, you might enjoy it. This is Cat’s Cradle and you’re in my world now.

Printed in Omega Issue 18, January 29, 2003