a personal moment in the here and now

Cryogenically unfrozen...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 19:27:00 +0000

What year is this again?

Oh right, it's almost 2010 already. I can't believe how long I've been offline... I'm not just referring to this blog either, I mean in general. I've been hermitized for so long now, I'm unsure if I have any friends left. There is so much to write about and I'm excited to start this thing up again. Is anyone out there still? I know some of you used to receive pings each time I posted, but I'd be surprised if that actually still happened. Well, let's call this the 2010 beta test, shall we? I know, I know, it's not 2010 yet. But who cares? The way my life has been going these days, not to mention the onset of holiday madness, I'll be lucky to have more than one post this month anyway.

So there it is. Let me know if this reaches you.

Goodbyes

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Mon, 07 May 2007 18:31:00 +0000

This morning was very strange for me.

My dad left for Calgary at 10am, which is his usual biweekly stint; however, this time is different because I won’t see him again for about a year. Dad is going to work in Saudi Arabia and I haven’t even really talked to him about it. He’s not even sure of his departure date but it will be sometime in the next two weeks. I guess that’s just how the industry is—I should be used to it by now, as he’s been working internationally for over five years now and it’s the same every time, but I’m not.

I also said goodbye to a good friend who’s moving to Vancouver this afternoon. I did it in a really shitty way too, which didn’t manage to give me the closure that I wanted, or the well-wishing that she deserved. I don’t see her very often but now that she’s going, I feel that I should have made more of an effort to see her when I could. My life seems to be that way lately—full of change and not enough time to soak in the moments. I’ll miss your style, Olly, K-town doesn’t know what it had.

Finally, I’m saying goodbye to everyone else. Tami and I are leaving for our annual vacation today. I know I should be more excited but this morning has been more focused on other things. I imagine it’ll kick in hard like a narcotic as the plane takes off: that strange feeling as your mind begins to move faster than your body and the tingling beginning in the pit of the stomach and slowly traveling up your spine. You’re flying and no one can touch you now… even if you want them to.

Sliding standards

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Wed, 25 Apr 2007 17:11:00 +0000

As Horizon was the last place I worked, this news article terrifies me.

Oilsands Deaths

In my mind, actual safety standards on these large projects have taken a back seat to professing an image of safety and incidents such as this are the result. I saw an exorbinant amount of safety infractions at CNRL's Horizon site, but it became clear almost imediately that any outcry was ineffectual and fell on deaf ears.

I am saddened by this story. I only hope that it doesn't turn into a message of hate directed at the standards of temporary foreign labour when the real issue is that of CNRL ignoring their responsibilities: contractors should demonstrate an actual commitment to safety prior to their receiving of a contract. CNRL, along with many recent oilsands developers, opt to award contracts based on the lowest bidder. However, it is simple logic that a low bid exists because it has neglected certain aspects of the required standards. Unfortunately, as the most expensive aspect of a contract is labour, and focus on performing a task safely directly affects production, the results are wage and benefit cuts and the increased presence of safety programs which are mere facades and/or mimic pre-existing programs that may or not be suitable for the very unique tasks required in the oilsands environment. Incidents such as this will continue to occur if some very real changes are not realized in Canadian labour standards and those standards can not take a back seat to greed any longer. Our lives are much too valuable.

Thank you for listening... hopefully the major players in Canadian oil production start to also.

Finding the time...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 20:02:00 +0000

I got another disturbing email from my father today (did I rant once about this before... I can't remember). It's one of those mass forwards about immigration and the destruction of the American Dream. I doubt I'm alone in thinking that this is total bullshit and I'm posting it here for everyone to read along with the response I sent to my dad in the hope that he forwards that off to all of his office friends who send out this tripe on a daily basis. Here's the original email:

WHEN YOU FIND THE TIME....and it had better be NOW.... read this, and then re-read it. It probably is the most important "read" to come along in your lifetime...It could mean your life as you now know it. Please read it....understand it.....AND CIRCULATE IT. It won't be found in any media outlet...it's up to you....

We know Dick Lamm as the former Governor of Colorado. In that context his thoughts are particularly poignant. Last week there was an immigration Overpopulation conference in Washington, DC, filled to capacity by many of America's finest minds and leaders.

A brilliant college professor by the name of Victor Hansen Davis talked about his latest book, Mexifornia," explaining how immigration - both legal and illegal was destroying the entire state of California. He said it would march across the country until it destroyed all vestiges of the American Dream.

Moments later, former Colorado Governor Richard D. Lamm stood up and gave a stunning speech on how to destroy America. The audience sat spellbound as he described eight methods for the destruction of the United States. He said, "If you believe that America is too smug, too self-satisfied, too rich, then let's destroy America. It is not that hard to do. No nation in history has survived the ravages of time. Arnold Toynbee observed that all great civilizations rise and fall and that an autopsy of history would show that all great nations commit suicide.'" Here is how they do it," Lamm said:

"First, to destroy America, turn America into a bilingual or multi-lingual and bicultural country. History shows that no nation can survive the tension, conflict, and antagonism of two or more competing languages and cultures. It is a blessing for an individual to be bilingual; however, it is a curse for a society to be bilingual. The historical scholar, Seymour Lipset, put it this way: "The histories of bilingual and bi-cultural societies that do not assimilate are histories of turmoil, tension, and tragedy" Canada, Belgium, Malaysia, and Lebanon all face crises of national existence in which minorities press for autonomy, if not independence. Pakistan and Cyprus have divided. Nigeria suppressed an ethnic rebellion. France faces difficulties with Basques, Bretons, and Corsicans.

Lamm went on. Second, to destroy America, "Invent 'multiculturalism’ and encourage immigrants to maintain their culture. I would make it an article of belief that all cultures are equal. That there are no cultural differences. I would make it an article of faith that the Black and Hispanic dropout rates are due solely to prejudice and discrimination by the majority. Every other explanation is out of bounds.

Third, "We could make the United States a 'Hispanic Quebec' without much effort. The key is to celebrate diversity rather than unity. As Benjamin Schwarz said in the Atlantic Monthly recently: "The apparent success of our own multiethnic and multicultural experiment might have been achieved not by tolerance but by hegemony. Without the dominance that once dictated ethnocentricity and what it meant to be an American, we are left with only tolerance and pluralism to hold us together. Lamm said, "I would encourage all immigrants to keep their own language and culture. I would replace the melting pot metaphor with the salad bowl metaphor. It is important to ensure that we have various cultural subgroups living in America enforcing their differences rather than as Americans, emphasizing their similarities."

"Fourth, I would make our fastest growing demographic group the least educated. I would add a second underclass, unassimilated, undereducated, and antagonistic to our population. I would have this second underclass have a 50% dropout rate from high school."

"My fifth point for destroying America would be to get big foundations and business to give these efforts lots of money. I would invest in ethnic identity, and I would establish the cult of Victimology. I would get all minorities to think that their lack of success was the fault of the majority. I would start a grievance industry blaming all minority failure on the majority population."

"My sixth plan for America's downfall would include dual citizenship, and promote divided loyalties. I would celebrate diversity over unity. I would stress differences rather than similarities. Diverse people worldwide are mostly engaged in hating each other - that is, when they are not killing each other. A diverse, peaceful, or stable society is against most historical precedent. People undervalue the unity it takes to keep a nation together. Look at The ancient Greeks. The Greeks believed that they belonged to the same race; they possessed a common language and literature; and they worshipped the same gods. All Greece took part in the Olympic Games. A common enemy, Persia, threatened their liberty. Yet all these bonds were not strong enough to overcome two factors: local patriotism and geographical conditions that nurtured political divisions. Greece fell. "E. Pluribus Unum." From many, one. In that historical reality, if we put the emphasis on the 'pluribus'. Instead of the 'Unum,' we will balkanize America as surely as Kosovo."

"Next to last, I would place all those subjects off limits; make it taboo to talk about anything against the cult of 'diversity.' I would find a word similar to 'heretic' in the 16th century - that stopped discussion and paralyzed thinking. Words like 'racist' or 'xenophobe' halt discussion and debate.

Having made America a bilingual/bicultural country, having established multi-culturism, having the large foundations fund the doctrine of 'Victimology,' I would next make it impossible to enforce our immigration laws. I would develop a mantra: That because immigration has been good for America, it must always be good. I would make every individual immigrant symmetric and ignore the cumulative impact of millions of them."

In the last minute of his speech, Governor Lamm wiped his brow. Profound silence followed. Finally he said, "Lastly, I would censor Victor Hanson Davis's book Mexifornia. His book is dangerous. It exposes the plan to destroy America. If you feel America deserves to be destroyed, don't read that book."

There was no applause. A chilling fear quietly rose like an ominous cloud above every Attendee at the conference. Every American in that room knew that everything Lamm enumerated was proceeding methodically, quietly, darkly, yet pervasively across the United States today.

Discussion is being suppressed. Over 100 languages are ripping the foundation of our educational system and national cohesiveness. Even barbaric cultures that practice female genital mutilation are growing as we celebrate diversity. American jobs are vanishing into the Third World as corporations create a Third World in America - take note of California and other states - to date, ten million illegal aliens and growing fast. It is reminiscent of George Orwell's book 1984. In that story, three slogans are engraved in the Ministry of Truth building: "War is peace," "Freedom is slavery," and "Ignorance is strength."

Governor Lamm walked back to his seat. It dawned on everyone at the conference that our nation and the future of this great democracy is deeply in trouble and worsening fast. If we don't get this immigration monster stopped within three years, it will rage like a California wildfire and destroy everything in its path, especially The American Dream.

If you care for and love our country as I do, take the time to pass this on just as I did to you. Trust me NOTHING is going to happen if you don't.

And here's the email I sent out to my dad:

Oh boy. Where to begin?

I guess I’ll start with how this argument is problematic in that it paints a picture of diversity as a conscious plot to destroy America and/or the American Dream. First of all, the idea that millions of people in neighbouring countries are all intentionally swarming the border with the intent of taking over is completely preposterous. These days, the only borders I see being crossed with malicious intent are those being crossed by Bush and his warmongering buddies in the search of investment properties to expand the American empire. If anything, the notion of an "American Dream" is responsible for the idea that the grass is greener in America and that anyone can just come over and find economic success regardless of the opinion of the indiginous population... isn't that the underlying message of the cowboy/indian legacy? America: a land rich for the taking. Let's not forget that international lending groups such as the IMF or the World Bank determine global "progress" on a sink or swim model derived from US structures, creating an international panic/desire to Americanize. So can anyone blame the less fortunate populations/social groups of the world for desiring that which has been purported to be desirable on a global scale? That's the American Dream.

The language thing. Canada is multilingual, and although we have had our problems, we seem to be doing just fine. Our crime rate is lower than the US, and so is our unemployment rate. Tensions between differing language groups are unavoidable if they refuse to acknowledge one another. The only problem I have with the recognition of two official languages is that it simply recreates a heirarchy: in Canada, the large presence of slavic, asian, and local indegenous languages (just to name a few) are placed beneath French or English but at least we are making efforts to recognize these as important cultural markers. The fact of the matter is that without language, culture dies. It seems to me that the email's argument is contradictory on this point: it speaks about the prevention of America's cultural destruction, by rejecting the cultural values of others. Seems pretty elitist to me.

The acceptance of others is not dependent on an us/them dynamic. Just because one chooses to accept the values of another, it does not mean that she/he must surrender his/her own values. Harmonious relationships succeed because of the intermingling of ideas. The more lines/definitions/borders we draw, the more problems we will create. Which brings me to the idea of nationalism. What is a nation? It's an imaginary line on a map. Just because a bunch of bureaucrats got together 200 years ago and divied up the spoils of conquered land, doesn't make those boundaries anything but lines on a map. A line is a division separating one thing from another. In the case of nations, borders create a dynamic of conflict and an excuse to ensconce the industry of war. Another problem is that, historically, nations have always attempted to assimilate the many individual groups within their whole rather than allowing them to flourish. The result, of course, is the rise of internal conflict. Maybe that’s part of the process though, because conflict (internal or external) seems to be profitable for the US.

The author also talks about the creation of more and more classes within America as being a problem. Yes! But wouldn't it be more productive to spend more time trying to envision societies that are classless rather than trying so hard to entrench the current (and problematic) structure?

I wish I had more time to rip this thing up, because in my opinion it is hurtful and destructive in its message and there are so many other elements within this that are begging to be proven wrong. However, that’s the second time that my bell has been rung by Jehovah’s Witnesses this morning and I guess I need to go debate the inconsistencies within organized religion instead.

I don't even know why Dad sends me this crap; he's not American, and he's even got a dual citizenship, which is totally evil according to this thing. I really wanted to address that bit about the "Cult of Victimology" and the misnomer that all minorities feel victimized by every member of the majority populace, but I really did have the Watchtower flunkies on my doorstep ringing away madly. I actually spent almost an hour with the two ladies arguing about how their religion subjects them by positioning them as inferior to the male elders, how the notion that Jehovah punishes doesn't go with my vision of an understanding saviour, and my concern with the irrationalality of only allowing 140,000 MEN into heaven while currently boasting a flock of well over 6,000,000. Unfortunately, my efforts to bring them into the light were unsuccesful and they were not to be conformed. Maybe next time though... I'll keep trying.

Feel free to use the comment page here to apply your own critiques on the email. I'll welcome discussion on this one with open arms.

Pollenation...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Thu, 12 Apr 2007 17:27:00 +0000

The standard patterns of my life have been interrupted for the past four weeks or so with the coming of spring. I enjoy the arrival of this season because, in all of it's glory, spring tends to kick everything in the ass and shout "Get out of bed and do something!" For me, this is the moment when the lethargy of winter comes to an end... the end of snowboarding season, and the beginnings of cycling. Accompanying the weather shift is the floral signification--tulips, azalias, everything is budding these days and not only does it kickstart the neverending cycle of yardwork that comes with home ownership (and marriage to Tami) but it also hits me in a whole other aspect of life in general... allergies.

I have been living on a daily dosage of Reactine, Chlor-Triplon, nasal sprays, and Kleenex for about a month now. Drugs store chains must just love this time of year. The funny thing is that the allergy season always seems to take me by surprise, maybe I just don't want to admit that my life can be so significantly altered by nature, but I usually suffer through without the aid of drugs until it becomes totally unbearable or embarrassing (whichever comes first). I think this particular time of year is the worst for me because along with the pollenation of various plantlife, the melting of snow allows various dusts and molds to rise freely into the air and freely attack the nasal systems of random passers-by. Also, because it's still early in the season, my budding young horticulturally-inclined wife will only put some plants outside during the day and brings them into the house overnight to protect them from the night chills, and as a result, the plants tend to contaminate my breathing environment somewhat.

The Lilac Chinese Lantern tree that is currently taking over our kitchen

This past week has also been interesting for me because Tami's parents just finalised the sale of their house, and have been staying here periodically while their business goes through. Now, I have nothing against their staying here at all, in fact, I enjoyed the opportunity to return the favour (as I had spent many a night in their house without objection when Tami and I were still dating). Our relationship isn't the stereotypical in-law/outlaw relationship that is so often portrayed by sitcoms as acidic or malevolent: I get along extremely well with Bernie and Fran and enjoy the time we spend together immensely. Unfortunately, the arrival of Tami's parents comes with some baggage other than their luggage... I'm talking about Sam and Chip.

Sam and Fran chillin' on our couch the night we returned from Peru

Samson (Sam for short) and Chip are Bernie and Fran's dogs. Sam is the Shar Pei that they have had for about nine years and Chip is the Border Collie that they recently acquired with the purchase of their new property in Cherryville. In case you don't see where this is leading yet, I'm horribly allergic to dogs--most animals, in fact, set my nasal passages running for the hills when in close proximity. Obviously, for short visits and whatnot, I deal pretty well with this problem; I'm not going to stop visiting people because they have pets or anything. The usual plan of attack is to just dose up heavilly before contact and things are fine. However, when the dogs were here last week, the prolonged exposure was really becoming difficult for me to handle, as allergic reactions are one of two athsmatic triggers for me. By the fifth day, I was inwardly excited to see my in-laws off, despite my enjoyment of their company. Which brings me to today.

After leaving on Tuesday morning, they're coming back tonight for the weekend again and I find myself a little on the anxious side. Again, this is paradoxical, as I can't say enough how much I enjoy their visits... but I think I'm going to need a backup plan to deal with the dogs. Looks like I'll be spending some time in the garage this weekend... maybe visiting my parents a bunch. Either way, it should be eventful. I'll keep you posted.

Tami and Chip rolling around on the living room floor last weekend

Morning madness

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sat, 31 Mar 2007 14:45:00 +0000

It's official: Tami is crazy.
I just rolled over and found out I was alone, which is not an uncommon occurrence considering I like to sleep in on Saturdays while she prefers to putter around the house. However, after blinking once or twice, the fact that it was 7am registered. Intrigued, I went searching for my missing wife.
As it turns out, her yardwork obsession had kicked in. I knew she planned on spending the day out there, but I had no idea the depths of her insanity delved into the pre-dawn stages. I found my lovely wife in the front yard happily plucking weeds, radio blasting, in the rain. And when she noticed me, her good morning words were: "Honey, could you turn the compost? It's too heavy for me." Lovingly, I meandered over to the radio and turned it down before saying, "You're nuts."
So now only one question remains: who's crazier--her for asking or me for doing it?

An unexpected benefit

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 04 Mar 2007 20:21:00 +0000

One of the best gifts that we received last Christmas was a stocking stuffer from my mom. Tami had been on this kick about wanting to try a cleanse (apparently she felt that it was in both of our best interests) and at some point mom must have overheard that because in Tami's stocking, she got a cookbook and start-up kit for the Wild Rose cleanse. Basically, there's a questionnaire about your overall health and based on those results, it recommends the level of cleanse that you should endure to increase your level of health. This particular cleanse centres around the Candida fungus which is present in most people and focuses on the reduction of dietary elements which fuel and contribute to yeast production. Or at least, that's how I understand it. So we did the first part of the cleanse together--a 12 day program to kick start the latter, and more intensive, aspects.

Surprisingly, the whole thing wasn't as difficult as I had expected and, although I opted not to continue with the longer, secondary levels of the cleanse, I felt better for having gone through the initial stage of the process. However, the most enjoyable part of the cleanse wasn't the health benefit, or the weight loss (which isn't a normal result for everyone), or even the satisfaction of being able to say that we had actually gotten off of our asses and taken proactive measures to increase our health. The best part of the whole thing was the food... and here's where my writing starts to sound like a Jenny Craig advert.

Overall, the food was amazing and simple to make. Now, I'm not someone who actively searches for simple meals to create, in fact, I'm just the opposite and will go to lengths to spend a great deal of time cooking in the kitchen because I find it unusually relaxing in a way that no other element of my daily routine can match. But the recipes we found in this book were very, very easy to put together and not time-consuming in the least. The only thing we found was that we had to alter our usual grocery list because we were buying supplies that we wouldn't normally stock up on; however, we were also afforded an opportunity to dig deep into the recesses of our cabinetry and utilise those long forgotten (and probably highly deteriorated) spices we wouldn't otherwise get to, which was fun in it's own way. Anyhow, I should get on to the real intent of this post.

We were so impressed with this book that we wanted to share this discovery with everyone who was interested, and in that spirit I decided to start posting some of our favourite recipes here for our friends to try themselves--that way no one is forced to go out and actually buy the book or the rest of the kit to benefit from what it has to offer. Tami and I are still using the recipes in the book even though our cleanse ended almost two months ago. I know that it sounds cheesy, but I guess I always felt that cooking should be an adventure so with that in mind, I hope some of you can enjoy these as much as we have. Now, let's just hope I stick to it and actually get some of these up here. Without any more ado, here's the first. Enjoy.

Tomato Rice Salad (Tabouli):

Ingredients:

1 cup brown rice, cooked and cooled
1 cup tomato, diced
1/3 cup sunflower seeds
2 tbsp green onions, chopped
2 tbsp olive oil
2-3 tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp fresh mint, chopped (or 2/3 tsp dried mint)
1/2 tsp salt
pinch of pepper

Directions:

Combine all ingredients in a medium mixing bowl and mix gently.
Adjust seasoning to taste.
Salad is ready to serve but we like to refrigerate it for a bit first.
*Keep in mind when planning that brown rice takes quite a bit longer to make than basmati or standard long-grains... we tend to make this using the previous night's leftover brown rice.

Yield: 4

Aging gracefully

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 16:16:00 +0000

I have just been afforded another indicator of my progression toward the inevitable...

my first white nose hair.

Can't sleep.

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Fri, 05 Jan 2007 12:45:00 +0000

I've been lying awake and going over the details of my dream for about an hour now. There are still some muddy parts (just like life... aren't there always?) but this is probably the clearest and longest dream that I've had in years. In case you don't already know--and I don't know why you would--I don't dream. Sure, I get flits of imagery now and again and probably when I'm out there's something going on in there that one could call "dreaming," but the fact remains that I don't remember it when I wake up. It's weird. 99% of the time I just shut and open my eyes and it's hours later. This post is in danger of going off on a number of tangents right now--very dreamlike--and I'd like to get this down so I can go back to sleep. On to the dream.

I'm in a room with someone else--identity unknown, one of the aforementioned murky details--and I'm pretty sure it's in White Rock. We're just chillin' on some very nice leather chairs, which are arranged in a widely spaced semi-circle of four facing each other and the tiny television off to the side at once. There is an open balcony behind us and the fresh air is comforting; the sun is out in full force but the rays are non-intrusive and the house is warm and cool all at once. There is an open-concept kitchen/dining area in front of me and it's tough to tell where the rooms end and where they begin...

Billy Corgan walks in from the stairwell on the right, between the kitchen and television, and tells us he's looking for so-and-so. I know immediately that the person he seeks is the owner of the house but am unable to help him. Somewhat starstruck--odd--I am speechless and focus on the moment. Billy senses this and begins to talk about lots of things: an art show he has just seen, the b.s. on the tube, a website he designed. Interested, we go to the office (past the stairwell) and he shows us the site he's talking about. I am familiar with it, having wasted a huge amount of time messing about with it in my dream past.

The site is non-functional. Not that it doesn't work, but it serves no real purpose other than to waste away hours. In fact, the site works perfectly. Sort of like a Sims game, you are a green dude (likely non-human) in a house--which, in hindsight, I think was the same house we were in--and you wander around messing with items in the house just to see cause-and-effect relationships occur. If you take the duck from the side of the tub and toss it in the water, for example, a glass falls off the counter in the kitchen. Meaningless. Anyhow, Billy sits down at the desk, positions green dude in a chair in front of the tv, and types in a word (unknown). The green dude speaks it, and sets off a chain reaction throughout the house. I'm guessing that this is some form of cheat that illustrates all the possibilities within the game. Looking pleased with himself, Billy smiles, gets up, and we all go back into the other room.

Billy tells us that he's got to go and then, after a moment of inner reflection, offers us four tickets to his next show in town. I'm about to say thanks and try to remain cool about it--because this sort of thing happens to me all the time, y'know--and the dude beside me goes apeshit, falling all over himself, saying how he's the biggest fan (which he is not), and basically acting like a tool. Billy just smiles again, and gives him two tickets. He tells me that he doesn't have any more on hand, but he'll get me in. He walks into the kitchen, opens up a drawer, and begins to write all over the cover of a newspaper (the Vancouver Province). It reminds me of one of those notes we wrote as kids like, "the bearer of this card is entitled to one free dinner (when I have the money), happy birthday mom" or "if you hold this card, you are dumb" or something silly like that. Anyhow, Billy scrawls something on the cover of the paper which will let the stage manager know that we're allowed in, and is about to hand it to me when, again, unknown dude goes apeshit and starts going off on how cool that was and how this is the coolest day ever, autographs, blah, blah, blah... and then grabs the paper as if it was his ticket in!

Billy just smiled at me, said he had to go, and that was it.

It wasn't very long but, like I said before, it was the clearest dream I've had in ages, and when I woke, my mind was wildly active. I couldn't stop thinking about silly shit like who I would have taken with that ticket (two were obviously for unknown dude) or how my sister saw the Pumpkins way back at Lollapalooza in '94. I'm not sure why it was Billy Corgan in the dream; I like SP but I'm not a huge fan or anything. I really only know one track off his most recent solo disc. Anyhow, I'm tired again and need to be up in an hour or so. Thanks for reading with me tonight.

Billy Corgan

home again, home again, jiggety-jig

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Fri, 22 Dec 2006 17:19:00 +0000

After an arduous six month term in hell, I have finally returned home. I know it sounds cliche, but there really isn't much of a better feeling than coming home for the holiday season. Let the festivities begin. Actually, I've been home since Monday night, but there has been a lot to do around here, as always. It's funny how that goes; I know I've been busy but I'll be damned what I've been busy doing. Yesterday was a big one, finally unpacking and sorting through all of the gear that I brought back from work took hours, and you don't even want to know how long I spent going through the six months of mail that had been piling up on my desk. The other night Tami and I rearranged the office and it finally has a good sense of feng shui about it now (there's irony if ever: the pressure is off to get writing done in here, and I begin to feel comfortable).

Tomorrow is cooking day for the holidays. Kim is having the family over to her place so we're doing cabbage rolls for that, and for my parent's dinner we're doing "The LOG." No, not the Ren and Stimpy classic, it's a dessert that seems to have gained a place of holiday reverence by our family. Really, it's just a bunch of chocolate cookie wafers, stuck together and slathered with whipped cream, but it truly is a big deal. I had the following conversation with both my sister and my mother this week:

*ring!* (telephone)
Me: "Yello."
Toni: "So, I hear you're doing the log this year."
Me: "Yep."
Toni: "Do you have everything you need?"
Me: "Uhh... I think so."
Did she really just ask me that? Am I missing something here? It's just cookies and cream right?
Toni: "You have the cookies?"
Me: "Yeah."
Seriously, wtf?
Toni: "And the cream?"
Me: "Uh-huh."
Toni: "How many boxes of cookies did you get?"
Me: "I dunno', six?"
Toni: "Six!!!"
As if millions of people's lives depended on my purchasing the exact number of cookie wafers for the LOG.
"That's way too many; you should only need two boxes."
Me: "I just wanted to be prepared, I guess, Tone."
Toni: "Well, how much whipped cream did you get?"
Good Gravy, will it ever end?
Me: "None yet. I figured i could do that later."
Toni: "Well, you know you need to have extra just in case..."
Me: "This is just about cookies and cream right?"
Toni: "...And you have to make it the night before..."
Me: "I mean, really, is there something special I'm missing out on here?"
Toni: "...You remember what happened when Dad tried to make it that time..."
Me: "Oh God."
Toni: "Okay, there's my other line, I have to go."
*Click*
Me: "Later."

I do love eating with the family though, even if it does turn out to be a huge ordeal every single time. Something is always upgraded to emergency status about ten minutes before the table is set:
"OH MY GOD!!! The turnips are overflowing! What are we going to do?!?!?!" Or some such thing. And then it'll be written in stone for the next ten years: "Did you turn down the turnips? You remember what happened three years ago when they boiled over..." Ha! It's funny because it's true. Tami and I usually get good and loaded before we get there so we generally don't get caught up in the frenzy.

Speaking of holiday food, I have one last anecdote. My other sister, Tanya, is a fantastic cook; she spends about a zillion dollars and hours in the kitchen, and the end result is always amazing. Every year, there's one thing that she loves to make... the cranberry sauce. She goes all out on it man, I'm talking about real berries, orange rinds, brandy, the works. It tastes great, but the one thing you can always count on is that she and her husband, Ian, will get into it over the cranberry sauce. You see, Ian prefers the canned stuff. The rounder, and more gelatinous, the better. Don't get me wrong though, out of all of us, Ian appreciates Tanya's cooking the most--nobody "oohs" and "ahhs" about Tanya's cooking like Ian. But the sauce is one thing he refuses to get behind. A couple of years ago, Ian was setting the table and all of a sudden it's on:

Ian: "Hey, where's the Cranberry sauce?"
Tanya: "Right there, in front of you."
Ian: "Not that stuff, the good stuff. The canned stuff."
Tanya: (seething) "What do you need that for?! I MADE the sauce this year!"
Ian: "You know I like the other kind, hon."
Tanya: "Well, you can just deal without it for one year."

And she turned back to the kitchen. Without missing a beat, Ian got his coat, keys, and went out the door. He returned ten minutes later with a can of sauce, which he opened and placed unceremoniously on a dish beside Tanya's; the molded shape of the can jiggled to the sounds of our laughter.

And that pretty much sums up how I expect my holiday to go. It's a good thing I quit my job so that once this whole deal is over, I'll get some time to kick back and relax--Playstation style.

Have a great one everybody, hope it's full of joy.

green blog

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Mon, 11 Dec 2006 06:12:00 +0000

I am starting a new blog because I wanted a green one. Who knows how often I'll post there; it is for doodling only. This will remain my primary source of internet rambling. The new one is here:

my green blog

Check it out, if you dare.

Offensive defences

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 10 Dec 2006 17:27:00 +0000

Friday night I finally got to watch a movie that I've been wanting to see for almost a year now. In a nutshell, Munich is about Israel's reaction to the murders of its 1972 Olympic team. If you're looking for a reason to watch this movie, don't waste your time debating; you'll probably need all of that energy after seeing the film. I am glad to have watched this.

I have always been reluctant to speak out on the Israel-Palestine conflict for a number of reasons, but my own ignorance has been the main reason. That being said, I am quick to speak out against war in general and truly believe that while conflict can not always be avoided, open war is not a viable method of problem-solving. How can the murders and deaths of others be an acceptable answer to any problem? These beliefs, of couse, open up a huge can of worms, and before long I begin to realise my own hypocrisy.

When is it right to kill? It seems to me that the administrators of recent times would have us believe that when the safety of a group of people is at risk becomes endangered, then it becomes a responsibility to protect them: an argument of defence. Allied participation in the Second World War was motivated by the protection of life and prevention of genocide; hindsight in this case has never altered my opinion that this was a just cause. Justification through the argument of defence has certainly been the modus operandi of the Bush Jr. administration, claiming that this war was a reaction to 9/11, the threat of WMDs in the Middle East, and Hussein's genocidal tactics in Iraq. I am amazed at how this argument has been spun, instilling fear in the North American people and at the same time relating the behaviours of the new enemy to those of one from the past (although genocide has occured on many occasions around the globe since Hitler's attempt, the use of a term such as "genocide" brings about an echo of justification because WWII was the last "just war").

But when does defence become offence? To aid in the illustration of this I will use an analogy from my own experience. If I catch someone breaking into my garage, I am entitled to protect myself to any degree I deem necessary. If the perpetrator attacks me then I am justified in defending myself and would be safe from prosecution if the other person's life were to be lost in this defence. However, if I am "defending" my own territory and chase the other person out of my yard and beat the crap out of him in his yard then have I gone to extreme measures? Am I guilty of unreasonable force? You bet I am. I have turned this incident into an offensive action. So if it is wrong at an individual level, why is this behaviour justified at the level of the State?

This post has gone off in directions that I hadn't originally inetnded, but I expected that. It is difficult to be precise in this argument, which is exactly the point I was trying to make. In my opinion, there is no conflict that illustrates the complexities of war more than the Israeli-Palestine conflict. While it is comforting to fall back on solid definitions of right and wrong, reality is rarely so simple. Ideologically, I am still baffled by the paradox of taking a life with the intention of protecting another.

I'm pretty sure I always will be.

Soundtrack: "Meat is Murder," the Smiths

Parhelion

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Tue, 05 Dec 2006 02:43:00 +0000

Last Friday, I saw my first sundog. Having been up in the north for almost six months now, having spent winters here in the past, and even growing up in snowy Edmonton, I find it amazing that I didn't have any idea that these things even existed until now. I blame the pot.

Basically, it's a halo around the sun. Light is refracted in ice crystals in the atmosphere and an icebow (aka: parhelion; aka: sundog) is created. The one I saw was a single bow to the right of the sun, but they are often double bows or full halos and can also have large centres at the main axis points, which look like multiple suns in the sky. Cool. The way I understand it, these are similar to the halos that appear around the moon sometimes.

What I haven't seen yet this year are the northern lights. This probably has to do with the fact that I'm working day shift now instead of nights, and I've passed the go-out-and-get-drunk-in-the-snow years of my life and have moved into the curl-up-with-a-good-book-and-get-a-decent-night's-rest phase. Hopefully, I see some on my way home because it'd be a shame to miss them while I'm out here. I have seen some amazing light shows in the sky while working up north.

Probably the coolest light-oriented sight that I have ever witnessed is ocean phosphorescence (little oceanic micro-organisms that glow when disturbed--such as when stirred by the wake of large ships at deep sea). When I was sixteen, I was obsessed by my recent discovery of marijuana and spent more time curling inward than actively searching for naturally-occurring phenomena. So imagine my surprise when I found myself fully sober at 3am, staring out to sea, and seeing all kinds of light and colours swirling and dancing about in the water. I must have watched those things for half an hour, at least.

One thing is for sure; nature is pretty wild. It's things like this that make me want to become an eco-nut. Maybe I will... or am and don't know it yet... or maybe I do...

Soundtrack:
"The Sea," Morcheeba

Stranded (at the drive-in...)

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Mon, 27 Nov 2006 18:04:00 +0000

After a much-needed visit home, I was set to return to work up in Fort McMurray last night but, unfortunately, Old Man Winter had other plans. I patiently waited for over an hour in line to check in for my flight out, got through the same line at security, and finally entered the "holding pen" with the intent to board right away, only to find out that I wouldn't be making my connection in Calgary and had one of two options: I could either wait in Calgary for the next flight (7am) or go home and fly out this morning. It didn't take much debate in my mind to determine that I'd rather spend the evening with Tami than sleeping on a bench in an Albertan airport.

So now I'm back in the "pen," waiting for my flight again. This one is also late, but at least it's going through to McMurray so, unless they decide to cancel the flight altogether, I should end up at my destination by the end of the day. Now all I need to worry about is whether or not my truck will start after sitting in -30 C for a week without being plugged in, but I'll save my rant about the inadequacy of the Fort McMurray infrastructure for another time.

Soundtrack:
"Waiting in Vain," Bob Marley & The Wailers

Nanny

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Fri, 24 Nov 2006 00:35:00 +0000

Florence Boulter:
January 3, 1914 - November 15, 2006

Last Sunday (the 12th) I got a phone call at about 11pm from my sister Tanya, telling me that my grandmother, my mom's mom, wasn't going to make it through the night. Nanny's health had been in steady decline for years and this summer she was moved into a full-time care facility in her home town of Sherwood Park, Alberta.
Although I didn't get to see her very often, I would always stop in for a visit with Nan on my way through Edmonton to work in Fort McMurray or on my way home, which usually amounted to about six or seven visits a year. Often I'd be passing through at strange hours of the night, but without fail, she'd be sitting in her chair when I came through the door, watching her "programs" on the television or reading the Bible. We'd have a cup of tea, I'd share my french fries, and then I'd be off again, rejuvenated and ready to endure the next stage of my run. So when I got the call that she was on her deathbed, I didn't hesitate: I got a bag together, hopped in my truck, and drove down to Edmonton for one last visit.
I got in around 4:30am and Nan was, as usual, awake. She was having a hard time talking and hasn't been able to hear me for over a year now, and that made conversation difficult. However, we spent the next four hours together and she did manage to communicate to me her displeasure with my facial hair: "You look like your father" she said disapprovingly, yet she wouldn't stop touching my moustache. To be honest, I think Nan always liked my Dad's moustache, but wouldn't ever admit it just so she'd have something to bug him about.
I left Nan around 8 or 9 in the morning to go get some rest at my Auntie Sharon's house. Unfortunately, I spent more time visiting than resting, but it worked out well, as my sister Toni flew into town unexpectedly and needed to be picked up in Edmonton anyway. I drove Toni to the home and we both got to see Nanny for a short visit. Nanny couldn't talk at all at that point, so we spent most of the time holding her hand and trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Although Toni would stay in town for another day, I needed to return to work in McMurray and this turned out to be my last visit with Nanny.
I got the phone call on my birthday that Nanny was gone. She had passed in the afternoon, and my cousin Lori was there when it happened. After a long hard fight, Nanny was dead at almost 93 years of age.
The funeral service was on Monday; Tami and I flew in with the rest of my family for an overnight attendance. It was there that I cried for the first time. Prior to that moment, I believed that I had said my farewell and had come to a sense of peace of Nan's passing. However, I realise now that there is no end to mourning; I won't always be sad, and I won't ever be done remembering the little details, and these are good things. The memories were what made me cry and I'm glad that Nanny and I got to share those last few moments together. I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Soundtrack:
"This Little Light of Mine," John Stebbe

Jetset...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 19 Nov 2006 18:40:00 +0000

Tami and I are off to Edmonton in less than an hour. We'll be back tomorrow night and it'll be nice to to finally have some steady time at home. I'll fill everyone in then.

Current Soundtrack:
"The Joker and the Thief," Wolfmother

At arms length...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Fri, 17 Nov 2006 23:40:00 +0000

The Calgary airport holds no appeal for me as I sit waiting for the waiter to realize that he hasn't approached me yet. As I face a grueling 3 hour wait, the idea of home seems an eternity from my grasp.
Sullen or surly, either way, my demeanour is becoming darker and darker the longer I wait. Fucking public smokers. The fact that there hasn't been anything tangible in my belly since 7am probably isn't doing me any favours.
God, I need to get home.

Roar...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 12 Nov 2006 18:09:00 +0000

Today is a big day in the world of CFL.

It's the division finals in which Toronto and Montreal challenge one another for the eastern title, and Saskatchewan is doomed to defeat by our glorious BC LIONS in the west!

So sweet... I've been waiting for this for weeks.

Now even though I'm obviously a dedicated BC fan, I would have no problem with Saskatchewan going to the Grey Cup. They deserve it after years of hard work and strategy, they've been developing their team and skills and it shows. However, it should be made clear that I will be cheering for the Lions today and can't wait to see the Riders slammed into the turf over and over again--a green, bloody, pulpy mess of inferiority.

Current soundtrack:
"Cantaloupe Island," Herbie Hancock

Soundtrack

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 04:29:00 +0000

I've decided to place an mp3 player in my sidebar and have tentatively titled it "in my head." Who knows how often I'll update it; hopefully I'll throw something new in each time I update the blog. The basic idea is that whatever song I'm currently fond of, have recently discovered, or can't seem to exorcise from my brain, will end up here for your listening pleasure. Also, it may be one of the stepping stones to an idea I have for a future podcast, but I'll need to get some better software first--iLife comes with Garage band, I think, and if I'm going that route it may just be time to purchase that new iMac I've been dreaming of for so long now...

Anyhow, back to reality. The player I've chosen doesn't show the track name or anything, but I like that--it'll keep you checking for the new. One aspect that I have discovered is that the player is too large for the margin so it ends up intruding on the text. I'm looking for another player that's more compact (visually) so bear with the messiness until I can figure something out. If anyone knows of a free and easy player for websites/blogs that sounds like it'll fit my needs, let me know and I'll check it out. Also, Blogger seems to take longer to update anything to do with the template and/or index than it does for regular posts so there may be a linear time lag I'll need to deal with. But for now, it's there and that's all that counts.

So there it is, I'm done for the night. I just found out that my garage was broken into this afternoon (3 times now!!!), so I need to talk with Tami and get the poop-scoop. Maybe see about buying a dog. Or a gun. Anthrax would probably do the trick...

Take care and thanx for listening.

Another monumental moment...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 05 Nov 2006 04:19:00 +0000

I just finished my first Sudoku puzzle ever. I know that right now many of you are saying, "So what?" so I should qualify the importance of this occasion.

I am a puzzler--I know how that sounds, but it's true. I love puzzles in all of their forms: jigsaw, crossword, jumbles, numeric, etc. However, in all of my puzzling years, I have NEVER been able to get through a Sudoku puzzle in its entirety: the whole scene usually ends with me having a fit, crumpling said puzzle, and tossing it in the can before stomping around in a sour mood for hours upon hours. But now, that has all changed and I have acheived a new level of peace in my life.

Seriously, that was really starting to get on my nerves.

If you don't know what Sudoku is, or want a handy electronic version of it, check it out here:

Sudoku

A boot's tale

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Tue, 17 Oct 2006 20:53:00 +0000

When strange and inexplicable things happen, I often walk away comforted by the thought that perhaps they happened for reasons that are important, and yet remain beyond my scope of understanding. The story of my boot is one of these.

This afternoon, Rajko and I were working on a job together at work. A bunch of trailers were moved to a new location and we were required to disconnect and reconnnect their power once they were placed in their new locations. However, this operation required that we remove a junction box from the side of one of the wash cars (aka: the poo trailer). Portable wash car construction is interesting as their function necessitates an area to store the poop and pee and other construction worker nastiness that gets flushed down the drain. In this case, there was an external box beside the trailer which was connected to the drainage system by a large, black pipe... and our box was located right beside this pipe. So we set to work disconnecting, and feeding, and doing all sorts of other electrical stuff which by no means should have disturbed that large black pipe containing all of the fecal matter. But it did...

Somehow, the guy who attached that pipe neglected to fasten it at all and it was just sort of resting in place at the connection point. Neither of us are really sure how it happened, but when that pipe came loose and sprayed out everywhere, we were definitely wading in some of the foulest, chunkiest, nastiest mess I have ever seen. I definitely had poo water and chunks on my pants, on my boots, and it was all I could do to hold back from spewing my guts then and there.

Suffice it to say that we both got the rest of the day off with pay in order to clean ourselves up, do laundry, and try to get over the mental trauma that comes with being covered in other peoples' shit. Luckily, both of us had recently waterproofed our boots and the sewage didn't get a chance to seep through, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. So, after a quick trip to the on-site doctor to inquire about vaccinations, we both went back to our rooms and set to the new task of getting cleaned up.

I began by putting my one soiled boot out on the back porch of our dorm to air out a bit before I cleaned it completely. Then I put in a load of laundry, had a shower and came back to get down to the dirty work. Unfortunately, when I went out on the back porch, the boot was nowhere to be found! Huh? Did someone actually steal a shit-covered, solitary boot? Nah. There must have been some sort of mistake. I finally located one of the dudes who cleans the dorms (affectionately titled, a bull cook) and we both asked around to see if anyone had perhaps tossed it out or done something else with it. No dice. I went to the Head Camp Attendant who then contacted all of the staff via radio and tried to locate the runaway boot. Still no dice. By this point I was about to give up when I realised that my dorm is one of the few where there is a large, blue disposable bin that the cleaners and bull cooks toss their bags of garbage into. So... in I went.

Luckily there were only about 20 or 30 bags in the bin, because I don't think I could have handled any more than that. The smell was horrific--but still not as bad as when that pipe burst. Again, no dice. As I emptied the last bag, I finally resigned myself to the fact that my boot was gone and I was going to have to make a trip into town and buy a new pair of boots--which is no simple run to town as I am approximately 85 kms in the bush. Clambering out of the bin, I noticed a coyote standing in the distance, watching me. The bin has a large lid that can only be operated by a hand crank and as I stood there cranking away, I thought to myself how odd it was that this was one of the few animal sightings here in camp: CNRL is adamant about keeping wildlife off of the premises and has many programmes in place to prevent their presence. Only once I had returned to my room, cleaned up, had a coffee, and begun writing this entry did the solution to my missing boot story come to me.

The frigging coyote took it.

A trip through the Rockies....

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sat, 14 Oct 2006 16:37:00 +0000

From the early stages of our relationship, Tami and I have had a fondness for road tripping. Perhaps it goes hand-in-hand with the nature of my work; being out of town as much as I am requires some negotiation at times. But I also believe that our mutual fondness stems from an earlier disposition: in our youth, both of our families spent a great deal of time camping throughout BC and Alberta, experiences that we hope to mercilessly subject our children to in the future. So last month, for our second wedding anniversary, Tami and I decided to take a jaunt around the Rocky Mountains as neither of us could remember traveling down highway 93 between Jasper and Banff--a scenic and incredible journey that people from all over the world come to Canada in order to undertake.

Day 1:

Late Thursday evening, Tami and I met in Edmonton; she flew in from Kelowna and I drove in from Fort McMurray. My cousin, Cristi, picked her up at the airport and we stayed the night at their house... hopefully we didn't keep them awake all night (*wink). Unfortunately, we didn't get much time to visit family when we were in Edmonton because we were anxious to get driving and Tami had to return to work the following Wednesday. So, after a couple of quick visits with my two remaining grandmothers, we were off to Jasper by noon. We stayed at the Athabasca Hotel, a town heritage landmark and favourite of ours. Years ago, when we were first dating, we met here and spent a week hiking around the Park and shagging like bunnies. It is one of my fondest memories. Of course, we did much the same thing this time, but without the hiking.

Day 2:

Jasper is a beautiful town with a much more relaxed attitude than its sibling, Banff. We spent Saturday morning window shopping and just chilling out before beginning down highway 93 (aka: the Icefield Parkway) toward Banff and Calgary. The drive from Jasper to Calgary is supposed to take about four hours if one were to go straight through and not visit any of the sights along the way. After inquiring at the information centre and consulting the free map they provided, we decided to make five stops along the way: Athabasca Falls, Sunwapta Falls, The Athabasca Glacier, Peyto Lake, and Lake Louise.

Tami and the town's ever-popular mascot, Jasper the Bear

Our first two stops were at The Athabasca and Sunwapta Falls. These were incredible and quite possibly my favourite part of the trip. It is simply amazing to see how much water flows from the mountain run-off, and the force that is behind such a huge volume of water. Incredibly, we were not there at the peak of run-off season... I coudn't even imagine what that would be like. If you look closely at the photo I have posted currently at the top left of this blog, you'll see me sitting on a ledge above the Athabasca falls--that was an awesome but terrifying experience, to say the least.

Athabasca Falls: breathtaking, no?

After lunch we headed to the Athabasca Glacier. This chunk of moving ice is the last remaining portion of what used to cover most of the valley. Unfortunately, due to our increasingly warming temperatures, the glacier has been receding rather than expanding, for over 125 years. There are mile markers to illustrate the glacier's edge over the last century--it has receded over a 1.5 kms in this time. After the fact, I realised that this is the third Glacier that Tami and I have visited in our travels: we once spent a weekend camping and hiking around Glacier National Park in Roger's Pass, and I proposed to Tami at the bottom of Kootenay Glacier in Nelson, BC.

To get an idea of the size, check out the group of people at the bottom right of the photo...

By this time it was getting late and we were still quite a way from Calgary. We made a quick stop at Peyto Lake, a hidden away and beautiful lake way up behind the glacier. The lake is a popular stop along the highway due to it's bright blue-coloured water (a result of refraction and the excess of mountain silt). From there we went on to Lake Louise, where we wandered around in twilight and marvelled at the sights, both natural and manmade. When we left it was well beyond dark and we were happy to be on our way to Calgary after a long and exhausting day of travel. Arriving at about midnight (after a minor unintentional detour through, around, and above the city of Calgary) we spent the night at my cousin David's house and were fast asleep after a quick beer and hello.

My lovely wife posing at the Chateau

Day 3:

As per Tami's usual standard, we were up and out of the house early, on our way for a day at the Calgary Tower and Zoo. The tower is located in central Calgary and one of the few childhood memories that I can manage to pull out of the cobwebs. Although spectacular, there isn't much to it: it's a tower, you pay money to ride up the elevator, you stand and look at the mountains, you ride back down. The whole thing takes about 25 minutes. That being said, there is a new glass floor that has been built onto the side of the observation deck and the feeling of stepping out into mid-air is well worth the sixteen bucks.

Look up...

...Look down

From there we hit the zoo and took the whole day to just walk around and see the animals from all over the world. Tami had never been to a zoo before and I'm glad her first time was here. Zoos get a bad rap for the obvious imprisonment and humane issues, but Calgary has one of the best records in North America for their treatment of animals so I didn't feel too bad about it. The only problem was that the zoo was jam-packed (something to be expected on a long weekend, I suppose) and over the course of the day, Tami got a little fed up with my "look at the humans in their natural habitat" jokes. This all started when the line-up for slushies was longer than the line to see the tigers, and later in the week, when news of Steve Irwin's death had hit, she told me how weird it was that I had been impersonating him at the zoo that day. The funny part is, I don't remember doing a Steve bit...

"the cow says, moo."

"the lion says, roar."

After the zoo, we had a visit with Tami's friend Shallon and her husband at their 23rd floor apartment in downtown Cowtown. What a view! They made us a fabulous Indian dinner and we sat drinking and eating all night long. Once again, we got back to Dave's late, and they were already in bed by the time we arrived.

Day 4:

When we woke up, Dave, Katherine, and my new second-cousin, Alliyah, were already up having breakfast. It was Alliyah's 6 month birthday and the first time we got to meet her, as she and Katherine had just arrived from the East Coast the day before. We had a lazy brunch with them and Tami wouldn't stop holding the baby the whole morning. Unfortunatly, I don't seem to have any photos of our time spent with the family, so you'll just have to take my word on how cute she is.

We were on the road by 1pm and heading home. The day was mostly spent driving and we only made two stops along the way. The first was at Emerald Lake, a spot I remember from my childhood trips with the family. The lake is very peaceful and has that same blue-green colour quality that Peyto lake is famous for.

Emerald Lake

Hey, a picture of me!

Our next stop was in Golden. Tami was there with work a while back and wanted to take me up the gondola to have a coffee at the top. Unfortunately, the coffee shop was closed, so we basically got to the top, checked out the view, and came back down, but it was fun nonetheless. From the gondola we saw a number of bears and people cycling down the trails. Tami bought a hat and I got some more patches for the backpack, and we were finally on the last leg of our trip home.

Tami in the sky with diamonds

The only incident of any importance left to tell was that of "the chair." When we were in Edmonton, Cristi had just had a garage sale of all her grandparents' stuff and she told us to take whatever we wanted. Well, Tami spotted a big old wooden beach chair amongst the piles and decided that it would look great on the patio. The whole way home, the chair sat in the back of my truck and it became sort of a joke between us: "is the chair still there?" Never too solidly secured, it would remain overnight in the truck bed and would always be the easiest way of spotting our vehicle in a parking lot. Anyhow, the last time we saw the chair was in Revelstoke when we stopped for dinner. As we were leaving town, the chair was in its usual locale, safe and sound. However, when we arrived home, the chair was gone--the only shred of evidence remaining: a frayed bungee cord broken and hanging limply from its tie-down point. We have a theory as to what happened to the chair, but it comes in two versions. In the clean version, I had to take a piss really bad and somewhere around Mara Lake I spotted a rest stop, just a little too late. As I pulled off the highway, one of the tires hit the curb and we took a jolt, tossing the chair into the darkness, and never to be seen again. There is a dirtier version, but you'll have to ask us about in person: this is a family show, y'know?

So that's it for now. Thanks for hanging on, hopefully it was worth the wait.

Tami Wan Kenobi catching some 'z's on the way home

Funny haha, not funny poopoo...

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Tue, 03 Oct 2006 02:12:00 +0000

Okay, so I realized that I've been blathering on and on about boring stuff lately and decided that this blog needed some more funny and less poopoo. Yes, I know that this site now runs the danger of becoming a glorified mini-version of You Tube, but I'll take that chance. Enjoy it while it lasts.
HA!... Fully operational by Saturday... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Shitty Job

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Sun, 24 Sep 2006 20:38:00 +0000

On these walls
I read what is writ,
The "Fuck this place"s
and the pictures of tits.

In these stalls,
Amongst the smell of shit,
The paycheque summations,
I wonder: Is this why I do it?

The union calls,
In my mind, hope flits.
The next job will be better...
In my heart, I just know it.

Lost at centre

noreply@blogger.com (The todd) — Mon, 18 Sep 2006 00:42:00 +0000

I step out of the door and am confronted by more doors. Innumerable in my mind, they stretch both directions, left and right, down the corridor on either side. And yet, I am aware that these doors are not for me. Although significant, the doors along the path are not as important as the choice I am now faced with. The only doors that matter right now are the two at either end of the stretch--these two are dialectically opposed, but each direction appears identical, both final doorways marked with an exit sign.

How do I get out of this maze? The answer reveals itself in almost cryptic fashion: although both signs are on the same side of the hall, when I look in one direction, the exit sign hangs to the right of the door, on the other, the left. I know that behind one exit lie the masses, the majority, and the status quo all supported by lies, merit, and bureaucracy, and desire. Behind the other, a forest of darkness that will initially be filled with loneliness, solitude, and isolation, but ultimately I will discover a clearing at the end of the path filled with love and joy.

I am lost at centre and choose to turn left.