Local National Daycare Advocate

During a recent stop in Vancouver, and ironically, after an announcement concerning national daycare strategy PM Harper had a nose job courtesy of the son of Amy's friend. Soloman, age 2, provided Harper with the unequivical feedback that his caucas could not and a visercal rejection that Canadian parents everyhwere could only wish to. Soloman refused to provide any further comment to the national press, but was heard to be babbling something as he was whisked away by the PM's security staff for detainment.

A Moment in Time

Pictured above is one of the rarest of moments - when 2 special beings meet on a bridge. This meeting was one of the most momentous of the early 21st century - on the left is the reclusive orthnographist Ms. Nepple and on the right is raconteur Ms. Fip. After years of empassioned debate on several key words and phrases in the English language the two, at the relentless request of the international community, met at Lynn Headwaters Regional Park to hammer out an agreement on usage, spelling and intellectual property rights. In addition, they also pet a dog - later named Tundra by historians. The subsequent increase in the phrase 'be all thumbs' in regional circles of the intelligentsia and the word 'weal' are directly attributed to this occasion. Ms. Nepple went on to found the Order of Purple Mammals, a literary group loosely associated with books. Ms. Fip began a steady slipping, emotionally and professionally, and soon thereafter refused to pronouce any words begininng with 'ph'.

The Great Thaw

Last weekend we travelled to Victoria, BC's provincial capital and playground of the retired. We took lunch with my paternal grandfather and his partner in their Cadboro Bay flat. The menu was quite agreeable and it pleasantly soothed the gastric-intestinal issues stemming from the previous nights debauchery. The conversation was light and scattered with stories from grandfather's younger years. Previosuly unbeknownst to myself, the Cold War appears to have had significant impact on the family's fortunes. Grandfather was naturally endowed with a musical ear and was encouraged by his mother, a teacher of Scottish descent to formally pursue orhestraic music. He became quite accomplished on the classical violin and appeared to be on the brink of making it a professional career. During the war he practised as an instrument technician for the Canadian Air Force - hearing problems had prevented him from becoming a pilot. After the war he resumed his musical career and appears to have been offered a position as orchestra conductor for the Seattle Symphony. These plans were thwarted however when the US government refused to give him the required work visa to due to his brother's associations with Canadian socialist movements. He returned to the Air Force, family in tow, and was eventually stationed in bases overseas where (ironically?) he worked on the above aircraft, the SR71 Blackbird, America's first ultrasonic stealth reconnaissance plane.

Manifest Destiny Realized

World's longest undefended border be damned! They have sailed the USS Preble right up Burrard Inlet and seized the public dock in North Van! The enemy was so bold and cunning; landing at high noon and sounding her insufferable horn - I am sad to report that we gave up the beachead without much of a fight - tugs brought her into dock and even the RCMP held watch over her as her crew disembarked to plunder local shops and brothels. There was little resistance I could give other than a resigned middle fimger - we resolved to celebrate the end of the Dominion at the SoupMeister shop in the quay market.

Newest Clan Member

I am pleased to introduce the newst member of the family; Mr Smyth. He is a very small person, some have likened him to a small child, but this is not the case. Wise beyond his years, he is a man of few words, but enjoys the simple pleasures of life - warm milk, clean underclothes and large cotton pillows. Living a life of privelege that most of us could only dream of, Smyth employs a variety of helpers that care for him 24 hrs a day - cooking him special meals, entertaining him, dressing him and managing his global investments.

Looking Back Through Time

North Van originally began life as a humble turn of the century company town situated on the water where the present Seabus terminus is located. It became known as Moodyville, after the owner of the first North Shore saw mill, Sewell Moody. Logging and ship-building soon became the primary industries of the new boom town and the village was soon connected to Vancouver by a bridge and ferry service. These pictures are taken from South Lonsdale about 85 years apart. Note the mix of small business and residential buildings, lively streetlife and public transit.

New Digs!

After many weeks of packing, re-packing, driving, job-hunting, apartment-hunting and more driving we have finally ended our journey at Vancouver's North Shore. In strict geo-spatial terms we reside in the City of North Vancouver, located in the District of North Vancouver. What a strange and wonderful place my new mega-city is! Even the geograpy is sophisticated; there's West Van, North Van (west of West Van), the west side, the west end, and East Van (east of Van Van). I've already got 2 parking tickets (damn fire hydrants!) and been the victim...uh, instigator of road rage (damn turbo!). Here are a few pics of our new neighbourhood; the 2nd pic is looking south across the Burrard Inlet - one can see Canada Place and the Harbour Tower in the background. The 3rd pic is taken looking north from the end of the public pier at what used to be the home of Burrard Dry Dock Company, of BC's largest Canada's largest builders of merchant marine vessels during World War II. The 1st pic shows the MV Burrard Beaver, Vancouver Transit's 'seabus' that ferries foot passengers across the inlet 19 hours a day, 7 days a week. In addition to being a steadfast and invaluable link in the daily commute the Beaver was also successful in 2 marine rescues in 2ooo.

a Shadowy man from a shadowy planet

This is a very bad man. He lives in a dark tower on Mt. Pleasant (Doom) with his evil servants Cleo and Chinta. He put his wife under a terrible spell - now she plays football. He captured me for a week in the midst of my job search in Vancouver - now I play football. I will list various excerpts from conversations during this time to prove his nefariousness:

• 'I dont have cable'
• 'I dont cook'
• 'I dont use the dryer'
• 'you have to walk my dogs'
• 'you have to buy more mix'
• 'you cant call long distance'
• 'you have to walk to the movie'
• 'you cant touch my dog there'
• 'you smell'
• 'you have to watch strange Japanese cartoons'

I was fortunate enough to escape when he left one morning for work, but vow to return for the others! I wont let their memory die!

my newfie friend

My newfie friend is a red Toyota truck. What can I say, I havce an eclectic taste in friends. Actually, this is my friend G.'s most recent project; he has a passion for transforming old imports into rolling works of art. He has stripped down this truck and has intentions of adding a large turret to the back. From here he will terrorize small animals in the woods and drive over things. In the past he has turned an old Corolla into a moonshine distillery. From this ghastly machination he peddled 2nd rate screech across the nation in his attempt to celebrate Labrador's entrance into the Confederation. He also likes moonlight walks in the park, novels by Jane Austen and his favorite color is turquoise.

my friend Sally

i just thought i would post this pic here as it's easier for me to look at it on the web, rather than searching my jump drive for it...but while i'm at it, here's a list of some fun things we'll be doing once she joins me in My New City:

• going back to gamble at Hastings Park
• visiting the top of the Harbour Tower
• watching good films at the theatre that we wouldn't have seen in PG
• eating cheap sushi!
• running, walking, biking in the rain!
• going to hear live music and theatre
• buying fresh food
• having a new life!

hurry up and get down here!

lonely and dreaming of the west coast...

Sweet irony - I finally plan to leave for the big city 10 years late and then my car breaks down. Then a snowstorm hits. After a short detour to Kamloops to visit a Newfie friend (pics to follow) I have arrived in Vancouver. Currently I am making by bed at the corner of Main and Kingsway - the heart of Mount Pleasant. In it's early years this community had aspirations of being the 'well to do' neighbourhood of Vancouver; it had a great view of nearby False Creek and was suitably removed from the hustle of 19th century city life. Alas, it was soon to become the new home of local industrial businesses; several tanneries, a brewey and a railroad. Current business establishments consist of a 3rd rate strip club (called Uranus of all things), 24 hr take-out joints and a 2nd hand bookshop showcasing 'French Opera Posters 1864-1912. It is but a pleasant jaunt to many points of interest; GM Place, MEC and various transit options.

Update: Little Sister

For friends and family that are wondering what new adventures Little Sister has embarked upon you will be tickled to hear that she has escaped north. She is currently residing in Port Hardy and has begun her teaching career as a substitute teacher in and around that community. She is living in a cabin at a local fishing lodge and has recently gone 'clam digging' as the locals call it. Apparently, these mollusk-like 'clams' live in sand at various beaches on the island and are considered somewhat of a delicacy; being either eaten fresh from their shell or boiled in a pot and accompanied by a malt beverage. What curious wonders these are! I have encouraged her to send forth photos of these and similiar goings-on in the hopes of sharing them with our fascinated audience.

you can take the boy out of the north, but you can't take the north out of the boy....

With the upcoming move my thoughts have turned to how I will relate to my new Vancouver friends. How will I answer the inevitable questions about my hometown and life in Canada's north country? I have created a list of pre-determined answers to help me:

- its Prince George, not Pigs Gorge
- yes - we have running water, paved roads, electricity, indoor plumbing and MacDonlds - no, we have no Ikea
- yes, we have many trees and logging is our primary industry - no, I am not infected with the pine beetle
- yes, life goes on when it is -45 degrees and there is 2 feet of snow on the roads - we do have North America's first drive thru Starbucks
- it only took 1 day to drive to Vancouver and I have seen a roundabout before
- yes, I will let you try moose meat sausage if I can have some of your sushi

run away! run away!

Preparations are well under way for the much delayed and highly anticipated migration south. I have given notice at the place of paid employment and have begun the process of searching for a new establishment in Vancouver to sell my labour to. My close associate, Amy, has given me clear intstruction to seek and secure employment of the highest pay and regard - and nothing involving a pager or 'on call' weekends. In addition, I am in the midst of applying to various institutions of higher learning, with the hopes of sharing my vast knowledge of information with my fellow citizens. In the next few weeks I will be humbly couch-surfing at various abodes of friends and family in the Greater Vancouver region. FYI - my favorite meal is lasagna and I dont dig on poultry. See you soon!

The Wild Cat of Wiebe Road

Never has such a tempestous beast terrorized men of the greatest courage and honor. Also known as the 'Calico Cougar of Peden Hill', this tri-color terror preys on unsuspecting house guests and was responsible for the 'Tube Sock Massacre of 2005'. Silently stalking unwitting lower extremities and pouncing on dozing peasants. Inquisitive minds have queried questioningly; 'have the cat and dog met?'. The answer is yes; Willy was enthusiastically curious about the new feline and they approached each other with trepidation. At that certain moment, when the next move would dictate all future encounters, Willy pushed forward his long beak towards the wild cat. In a reactive move worthy of its own yoga name, the beast flipped back, wheeled and struck out at Willy - catching him on his nose with an unsheathed claw. All sorts of pandemonium erupted - animals hair of both filled the room and the hardwood floors became a virtual ice rink of sliding feet. Needless to say they never met again.

One small step for dem-kind....

the impending sale of my house brings to an end my brief sojourn into property ownership; I was not to be the feudal lord I had imagined - surveying my land from protected heights while troll-like surfs toiled in the mud below, giving their meagre earnings to me whilst I protected them from barbarian invaders. Instead my renter shrank my shirt in the shared laundry dryer and complained about the 'freezing cold' in the basement suite. A subsequent renter deftly abandoned the premises just prior to rent day - a blessing in disguise as I was able to procure his electric organ. Oh, how the warm notes echo throughout the empty halls! The apparent disapppointing effectiveness of the suite in returning any sort of significant monies towards my mortgage payments was quickly diminshed by the pure joy of maintaining and repairing the physical structures of the 45 year old house on a limited budget (ie. high-interest credit card). Under such trying circumstances I had the good fortune of receiving help from my father who, at various times in the past, had been known to nail things with a hammer in one hand and a smoke in the other (a trick I gleefully anticipated observing again). My father is a complicated man (and deserving of his own post I am sure) - one that although he doesn't want any type of guidance or assistance for any maintainence task won't 'do things for you' and 'wants you to be home when he's plastering your walls and not out boozing it up with women half your age'. At any rate, the sale of this house has now afforded me the opportunity to return to school at some point in the near future, hopefully in a climate more hospitable to a person of my sensitive disposition, but more on this later....

The Players: Little Sister

If one were playing the game 'Twenty Questions' the answer 'yes, bigger than a bread box' would be the most fitting response to questions about Little Sister. All other questions about her would be met with puzzeled looks and downcast eyes. How else could one illustrate the personal stylings of someone who has completed so many things both on people's 'cool stuff to do before I keel over' and 'uumm...no' to-do lists? A dangerously free spirit with a disconcerting laisez-faire disposition Little Sister makes Jack Kerouac (circa On the Road) look like a hermit. Examples of her wanderings include meeting the late Pope John Paul II (whom she swore whispered to her 'tell them kids they can use rubbers'), joy-riding in a stolen yellow cab ('hey can I take your cab for a spin? No? Ok - I'll be right back), and following Che Guevara's infamous motorcycle trip through South America. Little Sister is as comfortable engaging in discussions of Latin American politics, mass consumerism, and post-modern art as she is hitch-hiking, tree-planting and telling strangers to 'eff off'. Both the former and latter being done with more reckless abandon when (a) imbibing copious amounts of French beer and (b) socializing with siblings and younger cousins.

The Players: Willy

Willy the Whippet can best be described as a true gentleman's companion; upright and obliging - he is the quintessential gad-about-town. His days of napping on the couch and cushion-chewing are frequently punctuated by frenzies of jumping on reluctant guests, assaulting unsuspecting canines and shedding hair at an impossible rate. His nemesis, my father, has often commented that I collect enough 'Willy hair' in my dustpan to create a small pack of similiar whippets. Indeed, I have arranged a paper-mache 'faux Willy' using common chicken wire and lumps of coal (as his beady little eyes).

the longest of journeys begins with....

A recent occasion has been the cause of much intropsection and deliberation - the outcome being one of ironic resignation; the return of oneself to the behaviours and values of one's formative years; it appears, by many acounts, that the further one runs from oneself the more intense one confronts the true self.

To be more specific; I have chosen to return to myself and the written word - in prodigal son fashion, to the past that created me. It has been many a day in which thoughts have been put to paper and shared for no other reason to amuse myself and those around me - by and by so much time spent in mindless busy work for others and consuming THINGS with the consequent renumeration.

The posts to follow will cover various topics and circumstances of interest to me, and possibly a narrow group of others, in a manner that displays humour, imagination and some critical thinking. With this in mind I hope that friends and family are able to glean some insight into my life and inner workings that perhaps in the past has been shrouded by a rather restrained temperment and penchant for privacy.

carpe diem