El Nino

Before I begin my learned discourse about the phenomenon of El Nino and how it affects climate change, let me tell you about an actual Nino.

Nino was the owner of the local By-Rite Super “A” food store when I was growing up. I don’t remember a thing about him. You see, he had a distractingly voluptuous daughter whom nature had graced with an impressive bosom (note for the record that any girls who had actual bosoms were automatically included in the ‘impressive’ column of my puberty-laced brain).

My one foray into car thievery came to a crashing halt as an indirect result of Nino the local grocer whose daughter had big bosoms.

My brother, you see, worked for Nino, packing groceries, stocking shelves, and surreptitiously eying Nino’s daughter as she languidly arched her back, smearing baby oil all over her naked…DELIVERIES! He also made deliveries for Nino.

One day, in a fit of youthful inspiration (see puberty references above), I realized I could ‘borrow’ my fathers car and take it for a short drive, with no one being the wiser. Yes – teenagers are idiots aren’t they? I had not even imbibed intoxicants from the back of my father’s liquor cabinet to come to this conclusion. It was an original, sober idea.

So off I went.

As only the unlicensed can, I skillfully navigated my way around town.

Thirty seconds into my journey I was cruising merrily along when I noticed the vehicle coming towards me was the delivery van of local grocer Nino of the Distracting Chesty Daughter.

The driver of said van was my brother.

In a fit of hysterical panic, I floored the accelerator in a desperate race to get home before he did. Off I dashed at high speed, around a corner on two wheels, crashing my way up the driveway and screeching into our garage. Shut down car, grab keys, slam garage door, race inside, hurl myself upon couch, try to relax, bestill my beating heart.

Work on story begins. “No, it wasn’t me, it must have been, uh, someone else who drives a car just like Dad’s and who looks just like me, a gawky teenager with terror and zits upon his face and no I’m not breathing hard or lying or anything I’ve been here the whole time...”

Doorbell rings. Uh oh.

Open door, trying to look innocent. There stands our neighbour, Mr. Brindle.

Make that, Constable Brindle of Her Majesty’s Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

“I presume you were spotted by someone during your little drive because you came home in a bit of a hurry there, son. Maybe have your Dad check the underside of his car – you bottomed out pretty good there. Have a nice night.”

Shaking like a leaf, I thanked him profusely for not throwing me in jail. “Oh, get up,” he said. “And stop licking my boots.”

I went immediately to my room for a change of undergarments, then onto the couch where I decided to retire from my life of crime and work at furthering my career as The Pimple that Walked the Earth.

I’m lying of course. I hotwired my brothers motorcycle scant weeks later and had a marvelous time outrunning the cops, robbing banks and just generally carrying on as most teenagers do. But that’s another story.

And now we return to our regularly scheduled column topic – El Nino and how it affects Global Warming:

It has something to do with oceans.

Thank you.