Mr. William Fidgety Martin

Mr. Martin wants to learn new words in Chinese on the way back from dropping Karen off at the airport. We’re cruising on the highway and he’s asking questions, “How do you say ‘steering wheel’?” I told him the word in Chinese. He repeats and periodically he makes a full sentence with one or two new words. When we pretty much get through the parts right in front of him, he says, “Hey ya…. What do you think about putting that IKEA shelf against the wall in the living room?”

A blueprint of our living room slowly appears in my head. I’m mentally pencilling in the shelf to see what it’d look like. What color should it be? Beige? Nah~ That doesn’t go with the rest of the room. White’s better. The walls are white, and it’s kind of an extension of the walls anyway.

“I think it’ll look good.”
“What will look good? Hey, do you remember what I was gonna burn a copy for Karen?”
“The shelf!”
“Oh yeah……….. (excitedly) Okay, now teach me body parts. How do you say ‘shoulders’?”
“…….”

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Mr. Martin wants to make his famous nachos for dinner tonight. I sit happily in front of my computer, waiting. He punches in his finances on his computer for a while. Then he stands up and walks toward the kitchen.

“Bzzz….bzzzz….” a helicopter flies out of the TV room and crashes into the bathroom.
“(laughing).. Oooo…. I almost had it turning the corner.” He picks up the helicopter and walks back to the TV room. Bzzzz…bzzzz….. The chopper takes off again.

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“Minus 25 degrees Celsius… brrr…. imagine walking outside in that.”
“Huh?” his voice drifts in from the kitchen.
“Iain says in his e-mail that he walks to school in minus 25 weather.”
“Oh, I know. I saw that too.”
Wait! You saw it on MY e-mail or Iain e-mailed you too?
“How did you see it?”
“Iain text-messaged to say ‘xin nien kuai le’ (Happy New Year in Chinese).”

WHAT? And he didn’t text-message ME? Thanks a lot, Jackson!
Wait a minute. It doesn’t make any sense. Iain text-messaged to wish us happy new year AND tell you that he walks to school in minus 25 degree weather? Plus, there’s no way Jackson would send a message in Chinese. He doesn’t speak any.

Meanwhile, Mr. Martin puts the nachos in the oven, finishes doing his finance, cleans the dishes, puts together the folding table for laundry, and sits back down in front of his computer.

“Are we talking about Iain in Nova Scotia?”
“Nova Scotia? Isn’t he from Newfoundland?”
“That’s not the point. You said Iain text-messaged, but Iain doesn’t know Chinese.”
“He used ping-ying (Romanization of Chinese).”
“Iain doesn’t know ping-ying.”
“(a bit annoyed) Yeah, he does. Iain & Francoise’ Iain. They spent a number of years in Taiwan, remember?”
“I’m talking about Iain Jackson.”
“Yeah! Iain… (pause)…. Oh~ Ferguson…. Iain Ferguson is Iain & Francoise’ Iain.”

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He comes into the workroom, picks up his cell phone, starts text-messaging, and heads back toward the kitchen.

“I wanna read a part of Iain’s e-mail to you. What are you doing?”
“Making nachos.” He says in a "Where have you been?" kind of way as he appears from behind the wall with his fingers shifting quickly on the keypad of his cell phone.
“No, you’re text-messaging.”
“AND making nachos.” He says as he walks across the room, reaches into the IKEA bag and pulls out a plastic organizer. “Where do you want this?”
“Either in the bathroom or in the kitchen. So can I read this to you now? It’s really funny!”
“Yeah!” as he walks into the bathroom.
“But you’re ….” He comes out of the bathroom, thumb still tapping on his cell phone keypad, and disappears behind the walls. “….busy.”
“No, I’m not busy. Just waiting for nachos to be done.” He says as he picks up his power tool and starts putting screws in the new shoe bench. "By the way, whenever YOU're done, we can have dinner." Oh, so we're waiting on me, aren't we?!
“Can you stop moving for a sec and come read this?” I finally have to ask him.
“But this is how I’ve always been. It’s driven a lot of people crazy.” Apparently the latter thought cracks him up.

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And I got cardboard-boxed for calling him Mr. William Fidgety Martin. According to Mr. Martin, it’s a gang term ‘n all (10 bucks says he’s making it up).