Last week, the view from my car wind-shield was wildly different from the norm. Living in the country, driving is usually a bucolic activity punctuated by road construction, the occasional lumpy big-wheeled piece of farm equipment, wiry cyclists trying to out-pedal traffic and red-tailed hawks floating on the updrafts over farmers’ fields. At the corner of Davis Drive and Woodbine Avenue in Newmarket, I cruised to a stop behind one of those behemoth trucks, all shiny and black, with huge mud flaps, giant wheels and nary a speck of dirt anywhere. Hanging from the baseball-sized trailer hitch were an impressive pair of … men’s nether parts…cojones….yup, a veiny sac of knock-off family jewels in day-glow plastic blue, a colour not found in nature. So what did that tell me? That the…

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