There are only three places where I go nearly every day. These three consist of my room, my work, and the gym. Since these are the places I frequent, I thought I should do a quick head count to see what I could come up with in regards to demographics. And this is what I found:
My place - just me
My work - 9 males, 2 females
Cardio room - 20 males, 4 females
Weight room - 26 males, 2 females
So altogether, we have a male:female ratio of exactly 8:1. And, I would like to add, the total number of females that meet the two criteria of a) being under 40 years old; and b) likely weighing less than me (at 80kg) equalled exactly one. That brings the ratio to 56:1.
Sure, there might be interesting or even pressing current events going on in the outside world right now. But I couldn't help but write this post about myself. Because with odds like that, I should have a long long future of posting here, with no female to interfere with my time.
Note: Yes I DO have a girlfriend, and yes it is all going great. Just observations, that's all. And everyone is always wondering why I have a long-distance girlfriend...
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Fans in the east
Well, I figure Winnipeg is east, anyway. And that is where I gathered with several other Eskimo fans and one person cheering for Montreal just to spite us, to watch the 93rd Grey Cup game in Vancouver.
After a low-scoring start, this turned into one of the best CFL games I have ever seen. There was much yelling and pizza-eating and beer-drinking and hugging and anguish and joy among us fans. In the end, our Eskies came through 38-35 in OT. I knew you had it in you.
After a low-scoring start, this turned into one of the best CFL games I have ever seen. There was much yelling and pizza-eating and beer-drinking and hugging and anguish and joy among us fans. In the end, our Eskies came through 38-35 in OT. I knew you had it in you.
Monday, November 21, 2005
A penny of motivation buys a pound of pain
Sometimes all it takes is the smallest bit of motivation to cause me to regret motivation for several days. On Saturday, I had this motivation, and it was in the form of an exercise program. I have never really had an exercise program before. I have had ones that I have designed myself, and seeing as I studied that kind of crap in university you might think I would be able to create a good program. But the thing about that is, designing one's own program is the best excuse for changing/shortening it mid-workout. "Oh yeah, I know I said I have 2 more exercises, but I don't feel like it. And since I am the designer, what I decide will be what happens." But the program I just started was designed for a friend's brother. And it is crazy.
So on Saturday I went for Day 4 of the program. After the usual slack warm-up on the bike and ineffectual stretching, I got into shoulder exercises. There is very little rest time, and I am already tired after the first 3 exercises.
After that, it was straight on to legs. Now I have just finished 3 sets of squats. Lowering myself down so slowly and taking no rest at the top makes for a very empty-looking bar compared to my usual poorly performed reps, yet I am sweating hard and getting worn out. My legs are trembling slightly. And after that, I have 3 more sets of squats with my feet set wide apart. At the end of each set I can feel my own muscles pulling on me, and my sight becomes ever-so-slightly blurred as I crash the bar back down off of a bent-over back onto its supports.
I feel like I am going to be sick.
On to lunges on the Smith machine, one leg at a time. Now I don't just want to leave the gym, I want to lay down right there and die. As I make a trip to the water fountain after a set, my knee buckles and almost lets me fall. If I had made this same crazy program myself, I would definitely conclude it was foolish at this point and call it off. But I have that little piece of paper telling me I have to do more.
So I load up the leg press with what little weight I can do at this point. After every set, I writhe for a few moments in the agony of the acid overwhelming my legs and the fact that I am destroying my own muscles. My eyes cringe shut and my teeth clench. I think that there are others in the gym, those who are going half-speed, who think I look ridiculous. But I barely even notice anyone around me, preoccupied by shaking legs and Rise Against screaming in my ear.
After a painful finish, I take on the hamstring curl machine. The backs of my legs had been left somewhat unscathed; now, they are taking an equal beating. I finish that and find myself hoping that there is someone on the squat rack so I can't do my next exercise. Despite all odds, it is still free so I move on to deadlifts to further destroy my hamstrings. I put almost no weight on the bar, but find that I can barely stabilize my back. Time to move on before I do some long-term damage.
Now I get to target those same stabilizers. I walk as upright as my legs will allow to the stretching room, pulling out the abs ball to start on crunches. When I can't do any more, I slide off the ball onto my ass, hitting lightly against the wall. I close my eyes for a second. My legs still burn. When I reopen my eyes, I look at my legs and they aren't where I thought they were. My left leg is bent with my knee up close to my head while my right leg is sprawled out and to the side. I can feel them so accutely, but I can't even really tell where they are? I wonder for a moment if that is what it would be like to have them amputated. And I think that's probably not the first thing I should ask someone with no legs.
Now reverse crunches. V-sits. I am certainly not feeling very good. Why am I still doing this? Because that little piece of paper says "V sits. 2 sets. Failure."? Because if I leave it just means I will have to do homework earlier? Why am I really here? What the..? How do I start contemplating life and death laying sprawled out on a gym mat? I think I can get up...yeah, I'm up. Hobbling tentatively toward the locker room. Walking home through the snow drifts is not going to be fun. Thank goodness for little mercies...Tomorrow is a day off.
So on Saturday I went for Day 4 of the program. After the usual slack warm-up on the bike and ineffectual stretching, I got into shoulder exercises. There is very little rest time, and I am already tired after the first 3 exercises.
After that, it was straight on to legs. Now I have just finished 3 sets of squats. Lowering myself down so slowly and taking no rest at the top makes for a very empty-looking bar compared to my usual poorly performed reps, yet I am sweating hard and getting worn out. My legs are trembling slightly. And after that, I have 3 more sets of squats with my feet set wide apart. At the end of each set I can feel my own muscles pulling on me, and my sight becomes ever-so-slightly blurred as I crash the bar back down off of a bent-over back onto its supports.
I feel like I am going to be sick.
On to lunges on the Smith machine, one leg at a time. Now I don't just want to leave the gym, I want to lay down right there and die. As I make a trip to the water fountain after a set, my knee buckles and almost lets me fall. If I had made this same crazy program myself, I would definitely conclude it was foolish at this point and call it off. But I have that little piece of paper telling me I have to do more.
So I load up the leg press with what little weight I can do at this point. After every set, I writhe for a few moments in the agony of the acid overwhelming my legs and the fact that I am destroying my own muscles. My eyes cringe shut and my teeth clench. I think that there are others in the gym, those who are going half-speed, who think I look ridiculous. But I barely even notice anyone around me, preoccupied by shaking legs and Rise Against screaming in my ear.
After a painful finish, I take on the hamstring curl machine. The backs of my legs had been left somewhat unscathed; now, they are taking an equal beating. I finish that and find myself hoping that there is someone on the squat rack so I can't do my next exercise. Despite all odds, it is still free so I move on to deadlifts to further destroy my hamstrings. I put almost no weight on the bar, but find that I can barely stabilize my back. Time to move on before I do some long-term damage.
Now I get to target those same stabilizers. I walk as upright as my legs will allow to the stretching room, pulling out the abs ball to start on crunches. When I can't do any more, I slide off the ball onto my ass, hitting lightly against the wall. I close my eyes for a second. My legs still burn. When I reopen my eyes, I look at my legs and they aren't where I thought they were. My left leg is bent with my knee up close to my head while my right leg is sprawled out and to the side. I can feel them so accutely, but I can't even really tell where they are? I wonder for a moment if that is what it would be like to have them amputated. And I think that's probably not the first thing I should ask someone with no legs.
Now reverse crunches. V-sits. I am certainly not feeling very good. Why am I still doing this? Because that little piece of paper says "V sits. 2 sets. Failure."? Because if I leave it just means I will have to do homework earlier? Why am I really here? What the..? How do I start contemplating life and death laying sprawled out on a gym mat? I think I can get up...yeah, I'm up. Hobbling tentatively toward the locker room. Walking home through the snow drifts is not going to be fun. Thank goodness for little mercies...Tomorrow is a day off.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
The Public...Works?
Check out this article. It is on the subject of the federal Department of Public Works, which has essentially just issued a moratorium on the hiring of white, able-bodied males. Discrimination with the goal of eliminating discrimination? Doesn't sound like a solution to me. Hopefully they don't do the same with my department, we wouldn't have anyone left.
Thank you Justin for the link.
Thank you Justin for the link.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Team Update
An important update on the Superfriends of JC Brown:
Starting players "T-Money" Taylor and "Strakattack" Strachan will not be facing criminal prosecution for their role in the events on the eve of the dodgeball tournament.
Just to remind you, the two players were apprehended by hotel security in the hotel pool after-hours, having crawled down the waterslide (since no water was running down it) and having sunk several empty beer cans to the bottom of the pool. They espcaped from security after a brief encounter, and fled into the area surrounding the hotel (at approximately 3am). They then called Yours Truly for assistance, including bringing them shoes and a shirt. They returned to the hotel room, but we were awakened an hour later by four members of the city police department. The young and slightly inebriated men were finally persuaded to wake up after some physical prodding by the officers, and taken away in 'cuffs. The police listened to their story and decided that charges were not necessary. The security guard insisted, so the case was passed to the Crown for review. News came today that the Crown has thrown out the case.
All friends of the Superfriends, rejoice!
Starting players "T-Money" Taylor and "Strakattack" Strachan will not be facing criminal prosecution for their role in the events on the eve of the dodgeball tournament.
Just to remind you, the two players were apprehended by hotel security in the hotel pool after-hours, having crawled down the waterslide (since no water was running down it) and having sunk several empty beer cans to the bottom of the pool. They espcaped from security after a brief encounter, and fled into the area surrounding the hotel (at approximately 3am). They then called Yours Truly for assistance, including bringing them shoes and a shirt. They returned to the hotel room, but we were awakened an hour later by four members of the city police department. The young and slightly inebriated men were finally persuaded to wake up after some physical prodding by the officers, and taken away in 'cuffs. The police listened to their story and decided that charges were not necessary. The security guard insisted, so the case was passed to the Crown for review. News came today that the Crown has thrown out the case.
All friends of the Superfriends, rejoice!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
America is funny
This was found at www.satirewire.com. It may contradict any support for the US that I may or may not have been perceived as showing in the previous post. And it is awesome. And hopefully I am allowed to show it to you.
AMERICANS ANNOYED BY "ALL THIS
INTERNATIONAL SHIT" ON INTERNET
Web's Increasingly Worldly Flavor Threatens Americans' Worldview
PULLMAN, WASH. (SatireWire.com) — The profusion of international news available on the Internet has made it increasingly difficult for the average American to ignore the rest of the world, a trend researchers say threatens Americans' long, proud history of disregarding anything not about them.
"With all the foreign newspapers and multi-cultural sites, the Internet is making it almost impossible for the average American to remain uninformed and apathetic," said Samantha Lessborn of Washington State University, which conducted the survey. "Americans can still do it. But it now takes effort, whereas before it was as easy as turning off Tom Brokaw whenever he said 'In South Korea today...'"
According to survey participant Danny Grisham, a 22-year-old from Cheyenne, Wyoming, it's not just the plethora of international news on the Web that is irritating. "Look, I can get around the news. I just turn off Reuters headlines in MyYahoo," he said. "But even some of the search sites like Yahoo and Alta Vista are available in different languages. Like everybody in the world doesn't speak English. Yeah, right."
"I can see where it's important if we're, like, beating some country in the Olympics or bombing them or, ideally, both," Grisham added. "But if some Colombian drug lord sinks a ferry full of Israeli soldiers in North Latvoania or Serbo-Malaysia, or wherever, and Americans aren't involved, what has that got to do with me?"
Other respondents said they were appalled, not just by the availability of non-U.S. news, but by the way important U.S. news is reported by some of these foreign sites. "Yesterday, for instance, the St. Louis Rams beat the Atlanta Falcons, OK, and I go to the London Times site and it's not even there," said Chip Pernadge of Kansas City, Mo. "Jesus, no wonder those guys lost the war and had to give Hong Kong back to Canada."
Sensing a market opportunity, Net Nanny, makers of Net Nanny filtering software, announced this week it will introduce NetNarrow, an English-only product that automatically filters out content that appears to be international. Specifically, the software looks for world datelines and keywords indicative of irrelevant foreign stories, including "Shiite," "post-Apartheid," and "Bob Geldof."
Survey-taker Craig Barker of Brooklyn, New York, said he will be among the first to get NetNarrow. "On the Web, there are so many ways to get news from so many different places, I could really get some fresh insights into what's going on in other countries if I wanted to," he said.. "But I don't want to."
"You'd think these Internet people would know that," Barker added. "I mean, that's why the Internet is called America Online, right? It's supposed to be about America."
Editor's Note: It seems that after reading this entirely fictional story, some investors/customers of Net Nanny believed the company actually was going to produce NetNarrow software. As a result, Net Nanny asked SatireWire to please assure people that this is not the case. No, really.
Copyright © 2000-2001, SatireWire.Sunday, November 13, 2005
Southern Neighbours
This is a very interesting article in today's National Post, entitled, "Sometimes, making peace means making war," by well-known Canadian author J.L. Granatstein. This is the first in a five-part series that will explore myths that Canadians have about The United States, and focuses on the general Candian-held belief that Americans are big bullies who use violent force and never achieve anything, while we go out and use hugs and kisses and blue berets to solve the rest of the world's problems. While I certainly don't claim to support American foreign policy, this article certainly helps to put a more historical perspective on relative success and failure in peacekeeping vs. peacemaking. Perhaps our world achievements aren't all we try to make them out to be.
On a side note, due to the minority government, a major foreign policy review which could have addressed these issues (and which would have led to a review of how our military is used as a foreign policy tool) turned into a small paper hardly worthy of mention.
On a side note, due to the minority government, a major foreign policy review which could have addressed these issues (and which would have led to a review of how our military is used as a foreign policy tool) turned into a small paper hardly worthy of mention.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Remembrance
For those who would trade time with their family for distant lands. Who would knowingly give up comfort for agony. They would trade their happiness for fear. Give up the years of their youth to conditions no man should have to bear. And to those who would rather die than have us live in a wold without family, friends, happiness and freedom. You are not forgotten.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Some light reading
Is it necessary, if one claims or wants to be a member of a religion, to accept all the doctrine of that religion?
Holy crap. I have no idea, really. I was raised as a Roman Catholic, but clearly there are parts of the Catechism that I don't agree with and which seem counter to the morals I have ingrained in me, whether by birth or upbringing. But then, as I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, I am confused. Mr. Lewis, author of The Chronicles of Narnia and many other books, was a very respected author and professor and was an atheist until he went about trying to disprove Christianity and instead because Christian himself. He says that one must totally accept the religion in all its aspects in order to be true, not only to the religion, but to oneself and to God.
The problem is as follows: He says that man's sense of morality can only come from God, and it is in fact in this way that the existence of a superior being is proven. Every civilization has had similar morals throughout history (though widely varying rules accompanying them). Morals that don't agree with these standards are said to be "perverted." For example, a man who enjoys kicking a dog has a perverted sense of pleasure. It also says a man's love of another man is perverted. Basically, the doctrine of a religion is to support and possibly even enforce these mores. So if I disagree with them, does that make me perverted? But isn't it God who gave me my sense of morality? Did I just screw it up? Or does it just mean that I am lazy? There are only 4 Cardinal Virtues - those of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Does adhering to those seem so difficult? Why this "doctrine" around them? Clearly "Do to others as you would have done to you" is nothing new. But then, ss drunkeness really a roadblock on a path in pursuit of perfection, as the doctrine would claim? Does indulging an appetite, whether for drink or for sexuality, really lead away from God?
I recently read a book on Buddhism. That author also said that in order to achieve the aims of the religion it is necessary to fully embody everything it says. While it is possible to go halfway, you will not get anything out of it. Is this why so many young people are disenchanted with Christianity and organized religion in general these days? Is it because we do not have the motivation or desire to follow it to its ends? Or do we prefer science and what can be proven? Or perhaps we can only see taking a stand against religion as taking a stand, while defending religion is old-fashioned or close-minded or just plain wrong.
So what if I don't want to follow a specific religion? They all claim great things, such as eternal life or nirvana, etc, and their purpose seems to be to show the meaning of life to their followers. But maybe I don't believe it. Or maybe it's just that I don't feel like abiding by all these pesky rules that are required. Maybe I could live "just to be happy," and that would be enough. But probably not. Einstein once called that outlook, "The pigsty mentality," and I am inclined to agree. Should I only experience love so I feel good about it? Should I only serve others so that I can further my own interests? What about beauty and truth and everything else I have a chance to experience - is that just to make me happy? If I determine my standards, the point where I will make a stand, on a piecemeal basis, is that going to make my world better or worse? Or do I even care?
Though books and preachers and bibles and rabbis and monks will tell you what you must do, it all means nothing. Each one of us must decide for ourselves what to believe and how to embody these beliefs, and I don't think these choice can be proven right or wrong. Yet despite never being proven wrong, "what do I believe" still seems to be the most difficult question I can ever put an answer to.
Holy crap. I have no idea, really. I was raised as a Roman Catholic, but clearly there are parts of the Catechism that I don't agree with and which seem counter to the morals I have ingrained in me, whether by birth or upbringing. But then, as I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, I am confused. Mr. Lewis, author of The Chronicles of Narnia and many other books, was a very respected author and professor and was an atheist until he went about trying to disprove Christianity and instead because Christian himself. He says that one must totally accept the religion in all its aspects in order to be true, not only to the religion, but to oneself and to God.
The problem is as follows: He says that man's sense of morality can only come from God, and it is in fact in this way that the existence of a superior being is proven. Every civilization has had similar morals throughout history (though widely varying rules accompanying them). Morals that don't agree with these standards are said to be "perverted." For example, a man who enjoys kicking a dog has a perverted sense of pleasure. It also says a man's love of another man is perverted. Basically, the doctrine of a religion is to support and possibly even enforce these mores. So if I disagree with them, does that make me perverted? But isn't it God who gave me my sense of morality? Did I just screw it up? Or does it just mean that I am lazy? There are only 4 Cardinal Virtues - those of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Does adhering to those seem so difficult? Why this "doctrine" around them? Clearly "Do to others as you would have done to you" is nothing new. But then, ss drunkeness really a roadblock on a path in pursuit of perfection, as the doctrine would claim? Does indulging an appetite, whether for drink or for sexuality, really lead away from God?
I recently read a book on Buddhism. That author also said that in order to achieve the aims of the religion it is necessary to fully embody everything it says. While it is possible to go halfway, you will not get anything out of it. Is this why so many young people are disenchanted with Christianity and organized religion in general these days? Is it because we do not have the motivation or desire to follow it to its ends? Or do we prefer science and what can be proven? Or perhaps we can only see taking a stand against religion as taking a stand, while defending religion is old-fashioned or close-minded or just plain wrong.
So what if I don't want to follow a specific religion? They all claim great things, such as eternal life or nirvana, etc, and their purpose seems to be to show the meaning of life to their followers. But maybe I don't believe it. Or maybe it's just that I don't feel like abiding by all these pesky rules that are required. Maybe I could live "just to be happy," and that would be enough. But probably not. Einstein once called that outlook, "The pigsty mentality," and I am inclined to agree. Should I only experience love so I feel good about it? Should I only serve others so that I can further my own interests? What about beauty and truth and everything else I have a chance to experience - is that just to make me happy? If I determine my standards, the point where I will make a stand, on a piecemeal basis, is that going to make my world better or worse? Or do I even care?
Though books and preachers and bibles and rabbis and monks will tell you what you must do, it all means nothing. Each one of us must decide for ourselves what to believe and how to embody these beliefs, and I don't think these choice can be proven right or wrong. Yet despite never being proven wrong, "what do I believe" still seems to be the most difficult question I can ever put an answer to.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
My sensitivity training
SPOILER ALERT
I'm talking about a movie here, so though I doubt I will ruin it for you...you've been warned.
I watched Jarhead last night. The major question that arises for me out of that is, not about war or foreign politics, but, "Why are people in the theatre laughing at parts of the movie that really aren't funny?" I had this same feeling after watching Farenheit 9/11. Clearly there are parts designed to be funny. And I agree it could be considered funny that a bunch of Marines have to build a 5m tall pyramid of sandbags in the rain, and as soon as they finish they have to take it down. Or maybe you may even think it is funny when a young recruit gets his head smashed into a chalkboard. But it a guy snapping from stress and threatening to kill his buddy really funny? Or a guy vomiting because he is surrounded by death - that makes you laugh?
Maybe it is just because these situations just seem so far-fetched, so unbelievable to us living in Canada because we only see that sort of crap on TV. Maybe I am just bitter because I am too comfortable. I am quite sure that people get immune to seeing that stuff, but I didn't think it would bring on laughter. There were a few kids, maybe 10 or 12 years old, leaving the movie theatre in front of me. One was saying to the others that this movie should have been considered a comedy because it was so damn funny. Really? A movie about a war is funny? A bunch of 18-25 year-old Americans sucking on sand and oil for six months while their enemies are fried by bombs and their wives sleep with their neighbours should be a comedy? I'm no psychologist, but are we supposed to laugh at the plight of other people, especially when clearly it is a true story?
I don't know. Maybe I'm just too sensitive.
I'm talking about a movie here, so though I doubt I will ruin it for you...you've been warned.
I watched Jarhead last night. The major question that arises for me out of that is, not about war or foreign politics, but, "Why are people in the theatre laughing at parts of the movie that really aren't funny?" I had this same feeling after watching Farenheit 9/11. Clearly there are parts designed to be funny. And I agree it could be considered funny that a bunch of Marines have to build a 5m tall pyramid of sandbags in the rain, and as soon as they finish they have to take it down. Or maybe you may even think it is funny when a young recruit gets his head smashed into a chalkboard. But it a guy snapping from stress and threatening to kill his buddy really funny? Or a guy vomiting because he is surrounded by death - that makes you laugh?
Maybe it is just because these situations just seem so far-fetched, so unbelievable to us living in Canada because we only see that sort of crap on TV. Maybe I am just bitter because I am too comfortable. I am quite sure that people get immune to seeing that stuff, but I didn't think it would bring on laughter. There were a few kids, maybe 10 or 12 years old, leaving the movie theatre in front of me. One was saying to the others that this movie should have been considered a comedy because it was so damn funny. Really? A movie about a war is funny? A bunch of 18-25 year-old Americans sucking on sand and oil for six months while their enemies are fried by bombs and their wives sleep with their neighbours should be a comedy? I'm no psychologist, but are we supposed to laugh at the plight of other people, especially when clearly it is a true story?
I don't know. Maybe I'm just too sensitive.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Pumpkins and Superfriends
Hallowe'en - when else can you dress up in ridiculous clothes, put on face paint, get ridiculously drunk with friends, and beg strangers for candy?
Oh wait...I do that every weekend. In any case, this past weekend was the big Hallowe'en party. The several hundred dollars of entertainment included lights and a fog machine, a keg, bobbing for apples, karaoke and a pinata.
As might be expected, things were broken, pumpkins were smashed, and I sang Take on Me. Here are some photos:
The hosts - and stars - of the show, The Superfriends of JC Brown.
Even (read: especially) the Superfriends need some spiritual guidance.
Gene Simmons would be proud.
Preparing for the pinata swing...after being fed beer with a high-speed delivery device.
The hockey stick swinging heard 'round the world...that pinata didn't see it coming. Ok, I didn't actually hit the pinata, I hit the clothesline made of metal cable and snapped it in two. Oops. End of party.
Oh wait...I do that every weekend. In any case, this past weekend was the big Hallowe'en party. The several hundred dollars of entertainment included lights and a fog machine, a keg, bobbing for apples, karaoke and a pinata.
As might be expected, things were broken, pumpkins were smashed, and I sang Take on Me. Here are some photos:
The hosts - and stars - of the show, The Superfriends of JC Brown.
Even (read: especially) the Superfriends need some spiritual guidance.
Gene Simmons would be proud.
Preparing for the pinata swing...after being fed beer with a high-speed delivery device.
The hockey stick swinging heard 'round the world...that pinata didn't see it coming. Ok, I didn't actually hit the pinata, I hit the clothesline made of metal cable and snapped it in two. Oops. End of party.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Hug a tree today
I thought of a number of different things to write about today. The first thing that came to mind was that I went about 20 hours without drinking anything other than beer, and then went for a run today. But that would just make me look like an idiot, so let’s not talk about that. The next was that I made two delicious new meals today, but I’m pretty sure nobody reads this blog for recipes. Or maybe the fact that I talked to my great-uncle last week and he imparted all sorts of good life advice. But that is too important for my tired brain. So instead, I will tell a story about someone else.
I was working with this guy just over two years ago. He was probably a few years over 30, skinny guy just under 6 feet tall, in great shape. He may not have looked like a guy you would be worried about if you had a fight or run from him, but when he opened his mouth you knew he meant business. One day he came into work and told us what had happened at his house the night before.
We will call him Al for the sake of the story. So apparently Al had parked his truck, a not-so-impressive old Dodge, in his driveway and gone into the house as he does everyday after work. By about 11pm or so he was gone to bed. Shortly after, he heard some noise outside. Certainly not being the type to wait around a corner with a frying pan in case someone came in the door, he went outside to check it out. There, having just broken into his truck, was a soon-to-be very sorry young man. The kid saw Al coming out the door and tried to make a run for it, evidently having determined he was not going to drive away in the truck before Al got to him. Little did he know that this older man was certainly not letting him get away. Al caught the kid and tackled him. The kid wet himself. He was begging that Al not call the police or his parents. So Al, being the sympathetic type that he is, decided he wouldn’t call anybody right away. Instead he gave the kid a choice. Either the kid would stay in Al’s front yard all night, or he would call the cops. So the kid said fine…he would stay in the yard. Al drags the kid back to his house, pulls some equipment out of the basement, and somehow CHAINS THE KID TO HIS TREE. I mean, serves him right, the kid actually chose that. But he actually chained him up, put on a lock, and went in his house to bed. He woke up in the morning, went out to the tree to the very very sorry kid, unlocked him and let him go.
I can’t say I’m a big vigilante justice guy myself. But I would be willing to bet good money that this particular individual will not be trying to steal any more vehicles.
I was working with this guy just over two years ago. He was probably a few years over 30, skinny guy just under 6 feet tall, in great shape. He may not have looked like a guy you would be worried about if you had a fight or run from him, but when he opened his mouth you knew he meant business. One day he came into work and told us what had happened at his house the night before.
We will call him Al for the sake of the story. So apparently Al had parked his truck, a not-so-impressive old Dodge, in his driveway and gone into the house as he does everyday after work. By about 11pm or so he was gone to bed. Shortly after, he heard some noise outside. Certainly not being the type to wait around a corner with a frying pan in case someone came in the door, he went outside to check it out. There, having just broken into his truck, was a soon-to-be very sorry young man. The kid saw Al coming out the door and tried to make a run for it, evidently having determined he was not going to drive away in the truck before Al got to him. Little did he know that this older man was certainly not letting him get away. Al caught the kid and tackled him. The kid wet himself. He was begging that Al not call the police or his parents. So Al, being the sympathetic type that he is, decided he wouldn’t call anybody right away. Instead he gave the kid a choice. Either the kid would stay in Al’s front yard all night, or he would call the cops. So the kid said fine…he would stay in the yard. Al drags the kid back to his house, pulls some equipment out of the basement, and somehow CHAINS THE KID TO HIS TREE. I mean, serves him right, the kid actually chose that. But he actually chained him up, put on a lock, and went in his house to bed. He woke up in the morning, went out to the tree to the very very sorry kid, unlocked him and let him go.
I can’t say I’m a big vigilante justice guy myself. But I would be willing to bet good money that this particular individual will not be trying to steal any more vehicles.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Better to come
Ok, I STILL don't have the pictures from the obstacle course. And I don't know what's wrong with my profile picture. But on the bright side, I am supposed to be getting internet within a week. On the down side...maybe not. The building I live in is so old, they're sending a tech to check it out and see if I can even get a phone. If I can, my swarms of loyal readers will be able to read much more about my exciting life. I know, I know...you're on the edge of your seats...
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Thanks
In honour of our most recent holiday weekend, I would like to give out some thanks. This year, I have more things to be thankful for than I can name or even know. However, I would especially like to thank all of my friends this year.
This was the first Thanksgiving that I can remember being away from my family. In their place I had six co-workers and friends I have made here since January. We went on a “family” shopping trip on Saturday and gathered all of the things we would need for a good meal the next day. On Sunday, after I woke up off the couch in the house where all of them live (and I basically live on the weekends), we had a quick breakfast and prepared the huge dinner. Everyone put in some sort of assistance, except for one guy. We didn’t really expect him to anyway; instead he worked on his forté – entertainment. He set up an obstacle course. Anyway, the rest of us drank a few beers or glasses of wine while we actually managed to prepare an incredible meal. Before we began eating three other visitors joined us, and we all went around the room and each person told every one for what they were thankful.
After dinner we moved on to the obstacle course. I managed to pull lucky number 1, so I was first up. The timed course involved drinking a beer, spinning ten times around a pole with your forehead touching the pole, and then carrying an egg in a spoon for the remaining obstacles. These included throwing a BBQ brush to knock down a can, doing slalom through tiki torches, and crawling under a series of chairs among other things. If ever the egg fell, you had to go back to the beginning of the obstacle. If it broke, you were out. Good times were had by all, and I came nowhere near to winning due to my decision to not shotgun the beer.
So that was my thanks for my new friends. But I also include my old friends in my thanks here, because there is not much that can beat hanging out with an old friend. Since moving away from you all I have seen that sometimes the more important things are the most easily taken for granted. I have also realized that friends are not something you have to lose just because you don’t see them often or talk everyday – in fact it is the real friends who know that this isn’t necessary. So know that you are always welcome to see me here, and please save me a seat when I come by to visit. I’ll bring the drinks.
(Pictures to follow)
This was the first Thanksgiving that I can remember being away from my family. In their place I had six co-workers and friends I have made here since January. We went on a “family” shopping trip on Saturday and gathered all of the things we would need for a good meal the next day. On Sunday, after I woke up off the couch in the house where all of them live (and I basically live on the weekends), we had a quick breakfast and prepared the huge dinner. Everyone put in some sort of assistance, except for one guy. We didn’t really expect him to anyway; instead he worked on his forté – entertainment. He set up an obstacle course. Anyway, the rest of us drank a few beers or glasses of wine while we actually managed to prepare an incredible meal. Before we began eating three other visitors joined us, and we all went around the room and each person told every one for what they were thankful.
After dinner we moved on to the obstacle course. I managed to pull lucky number 1, so I was first up. The timed course involved drinking a beer, spinning ten times around a pole with your forehead touching the pole, and then carrying an egg in a spoon for the remaining obstacles. These included throwing a BBQ brush to knock down a can, doing slalom through tiki torches, and crawling under a series of chairs among other things. If ever the egg fell, you had to go back to the beginning of the obstacle. If it broke, you were out. Good times were had by all, and I came nowhere near to winning due to my decision to not shotgun the beer.
So that was my thanks for my new friends. But I also include my old friends in my thanks here, because there is not much that can beat hanging out with an old friend. Since moving away from you all I have seen that sometimes the more important things are the most easily taken for granted. I have also realized that friends are not something you have to lose just because you don’t see them often or talk everyday – in fact it is the real friends who know that this isn’t necessary. So know that you are always welcome to see me here, and please save me a seat when I come by to visit. I’ll bring the drinks.
(Pictures to follow)
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Who can sing? And who knew the words?
For anyone who didn’t know, I am taking a French language course fulltime. A few weeks ago, I thought it would be a good idea to learn the national anthem in French, so I asked one of the instructors if he had something on it. He gave me a written copy; here are the lyrics for those of you who don’t know them:
O Canada! Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!
Car ton bra sait porter l’épée,
Il sait porter la croix.
Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brilliants exploits.
Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits!
Ok cool. Now, I am sure you all know that these words go to the same music as the English version, as oftentimes both languages are used in the anthem. But are the words the same? Is there even one single line that is the same? Not even close. The only part that is the same is the first two words. So here is an English translation of the French words:
O Canada! Land of our ancestors,
Your forehead is surrounded by glorious flowerets!
Because your arm knows how to carry the sword,
It knows how to carry the cross.
Your history is an epic
Of more brilliant exploits.
And your valour, soaked in faith,
Will protect our homes and our rights.
Will protect our homes and our rights.
Whoa. No standing on guard there. No love or glowing hearts, either. But keeping in mind that it actually rhymes in French, of course, it sounds pretty good. And they haven’t worried about changing it for such reasons as its “sexist” content like the English version. In fact the French version is still in original form from 1880. And hey…if it has worked for 125 years, it can work for me.
O Canada! Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!
Car ton bra sait porter l’épée,
Il sait porter la croix.
Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brilliants exploits.
Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits!
Ok cool. Now, I am sure you all know that these words go to the same music as the English version, as oftentimes both languages are used in the anthem. But are the words the same? Is there even one single line that is the same? Not even close. The only part that is the same is the first two words. So here is an English translation of the French words:
O Canada! Land of our ancestors,
Your forehead is surrounded by glorious flowerets!
Because your arm knows how to carry the sword,
It knows how to carry the cross.
Your history is an epic
Of more brilliant exploits.
And your valour, soaked in faith,
Will protect our homes and our rights.
Will protect our homes and our rights.
Whoa. No standing on guard there. No love or glowing hearts, either. But keeping in mind that it actually rhymes in French, of course, it sounds pretty good. And they haven’t worried about changing it for such reasons as its “sexist” content like the English version. In fact the French version is still in original form from 1880. And hey…if it has worked for 125 years, it can work for me.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Two fingers up from The Corporation
Last night, I watched The Corporation. This is a documentary film about what it calls, “The dominant institution of our time.” Comparing it to the dominant institutions of past times such as the Church and Communism, it argues that the Corporation, too, will fall from its position of power.
Well made and logically presented, if a bit long for a documentary, the film features interviews with CEOs, reporters, business and labour experts, and even Michael Moore when he’s not busy harassing Stupid White Men. However, it doesn’t stoop to Moore’s level of harassing people or trying to make them look ridiculous with slow motion shots of prominent members of society getting their makeup done before a live broadcast. That being said, the VP of Pfizer manages to make the company look pretty bad all on his own.
Starting with the legal arguments after the American Civil War that led to the Supreme Court recognizing the Corporation as a living person, we are then led through a series of arguments on how the corporation is, by its very nature (and is in fact required by law to be), driven solely by profit. The Corporation is presented as a separate (and maybe even inherently evil, though not malevolent) entity from the real people that fill its ranks. You can see real footage of the wife of Shell’s CEO handing out coffee to protesters in front of her house, and the massive and violent government response to the people’s unrest in Bolivia over the privatization of rainwater. There is a long section on a study of a particular pharmaceutical hormone administered to dairy cows. I, for one, was happy to learn that this drug was not legal in Canada. Personalities from Nobel-prize winning economist Milton Friedman to Kathy Lee Gifford make appearances. One of the best speakers is the CEO of the world’s largest carpet producing company, who confesses to some rather startling realizations in what he referred to as an “epiphany.” Michael Moore himself is even calm and makes more convincing arguments when he is sitting in front of the camera than when he is presenting his own one-sided productions.
I would rate The Corporation as one of the best investigative documentaries I have seen. The film is thought provoking, and leaves the viewer with a sense that he or she can actually do something to prevent the Armageddon that this crazy world is headed for. So if you can take a little over 2 hours of your time to learn a little bit more about the world around you, I would recommend checking out The Corporation. It has certainly made me think twice.
No advertising fee was paid by The Corporation or any of its subsidiaries for this review.
Well made and logically presented, if a bit long for a documentary, the film features interviews with CEOs, reporters, business and labour experts, and even Michael Moore when he’s not busy harassing Stupid White Men. However, it doesn’t stoop to Moore’s level of harassing people or trying to make them look ridiculous with slow motion shots of prominent members of society getting their makeup done before a live broadcast. That being said, the VP of Pfizer manages to make the company look pretty bad all on his own.
Starting with the legal arguments after the American Civil War that led to the Supreme Court recognizing the Corporation as a living person, we are then led through a series of arguments on how the corporation is, by its very nature (and is in fact required by law to be), driven solely by profit. The Corporation is presented as a separate (and maybe even inherently evil, though not malevolent) entity from the real people that fill its ranks. You can see real footage of the wife of Shell’s CEO handing out coffee to protesters in front of her house, and the massive and violent government response to the people’s unrest in Bolivia over the privatization of rainwater. There is a long section on a study of a particular pharmaceutical hormone administered to dairy cows. I, for one, was happy to learn that this drug was not legal in Canada. Personalities from Nobel-prize winning economist Milton Friedman to Kathy Lee Gifford make appearances. One of the best speakers is the CEO of the world’s largest carpet producing company, who confesses to some rather startling realizations in what he referred to as an “epiphany.” Michael Moore himself is even calm and makes more convincing arguments when he is sitting in front of the camera than when he is presenting his own one-sided productions.
I would rate The Corporation as one of the best investigative documentaries I have seen. The film is thought provoking, and leaves the viewer with a sense that he or she can actually do something to prevent the Armageddon that this crazy world is headed for. So if you can take a little over 2 hours of your time to learn a little bit more about the world around you, I would recommend checking out The Corporation. It has certainly made me think twice.
No advertising fee was paid by The Corporation or any of its subsidiaries for this review.
Friday, September 23, 2005
The Injured List
An update to our friend Paul, who was injured in the dodgeball tournament:
They took some x-rays of his hand and finger. The doc said it was ok and was just "extensive soft tissue damage." She would get a second opinion, but told him to keep moving it to maintain mobility and function. That was monday. On THURSDAY they called him up and told him it was indeed broken. "You haven't been moving it, have you?" Oh no, of course not. Except you TOLD him to. So he went in to get a cast. When he got there, they decided he needed another examination. All the swelling had gone down and the pain had started to subside, but...not anymore, after this doctor got to it. Now the swelling and pain are back, and they think it is dislocated, the third diagnosis of the same injury. So he has a half-cast. And everyone's faith in doctors...going downhill.
They took some x-rays of his hand and finger. The doc said it was ok and was just "extensive soft tissue damage." She would get a second opinion, but told him to keep moving it to maintain mobility and function. That was monday. On THURSDAY they called him up and told him it was indeed broken. "You haven't been moving it, have you?" Oh no, of course not. Except you TOLD him to. So he went in to get a cast. When he got there, they decided he needed another examination. All the swelling had gone down and the pain had started to subside, but...not anymore, after this doctor got to it. Now the swelling and pain are back, and they think it is dislocated, the third diagnosis of the same injury. So he has a half-cast. And everyone's faith in doctors...going downhill.
Monday, September 19, 2005
A Ball Dodged
My adrenaline is flowing. My heart is pounding in my chest. My mouth is achingly dry from breathing so hard. My legs are shaking with anticipation of the whistle blow. And I’m wearing yellow panties over my spandex pants. This can mean only one thing – DodgeBall Blast 2005!
DodgeBall Blast 2005 is the first annual Dodgeball tournament held in Brandon, MB on Sept 16-18. Sixty-nine teams from Manitoba and Saskatchewan played, including my team of 7 players and one coach from Winnipeg, “The Superfriends of JC Brown.” This name was coined from a couple of garage-sale paintings that depict a Black Jesus, in the house of 5 of the members. Now, the reason I should have gotten a veto is that we got a black Jesus, complete with thorns, silk-screened on the front of our shirts. Perhaps if we were a church group, or if members of the team even cared about Jesus, it would be ok. Anyway, the rest of our uniform managed to be bright enough that nobody even made a remark about the shirts. And people thought JC Brown was a good friend of ours who couldn’t make it to the tournament. So, enough about that.
Back to the story. The eight of us packed up and took the 2-hour drive to Brandon after work on Friday and checked in to the hotel that was directly connected to the Centre where the matches would be taking place. Unfortunately, not all of the team would be able to spend the weekend there. After several drinks, most of the team went to bed that evening. Two players, however, decided it would be a better idea to go swimming in the hotel pool, which had closed 3 hours earlier at 11pm. I got a phone call from these same guys just after 4 telling me they had been apprehended by hotel security but had escaped, and were now outside several blocks away. One of them had no shoes and was wearing only a garbage bag for a shirt after the security guard had pulled his shirt off as he tried to escape. So I got up and walked a few blocks away to bring them clothes and shoes. They went back into the hotel soon after I returned. Just before 6am, though, there came a loud knocking at the door. I woke up and opened to door to see 4 Brandon Police Officers staring me down. I even happened to know one. That didn’t help a lot, though, as the 2 guys were hauled off in ‘cuffs. Luckily they were released about an hour later and stayed in a hotel across the street for the remainder of the weekend. (Looks like they probably won’t be charged.)
Despite the situation that night, we still showed up to play our first-ever real game of dodgeball on Saturday morning. We quickly dispatched with “El Big Cajones” in two straight games in a matter of minutes. Coming back later in the day, we may have been a little over-confident as “One Nuts” quickly won the first game of our best-of-three series. We recovered and managed to take the second game, but they poured on the pressure and took the last game, putting us out of contention for the “A Pool” and knocking us down to “B.” We were a beaten and rejected team that night, but hoped for redemption later in the night in the first game of the elimination round. It was somewhat disappointing, then, to learn several hours later that our opponents called in to forfeit, likely because they got in the popular hotel bar and didn’t want to leave. So we would wait until Sunday for our next game. We also learned at this time that we had won the best uniform prize, for a smooth $250. “8 Chix and 2 Dix” took the prize for best team name.
Not having learned from the previous night’s escapades, the team again found itself in drinking establishments Saturday night, and some drama ensued, but nobody ended up in handcuffs so I guess it could be considered a success.
Sunday morning, we showed up to play. This time is was important, since we were playing a good team this morning. “The Snake Eaters” from Shilo, MB, were highly interested in taking down their colleagues from Winnipeg. We were on our game, though, and took them out of the game and the tournament in two close games. This set up our quarter-final against “The Pylons.” We may have been fooled by the fact that this team had girls, because we got our butts handed to us in the first game of the series. We came back to win game 2 without much problem. Into game three, and after several minutes of close play it came down to a one-on-one showdown with Rob “Big E” Evers making the hit for the Superfriends. We then took out "The Oddballs," propelling us into the “B Pool” Championship.
With the fans in the bleachers, three TV cameras set up, two play-by-play announcers mic’d up, and theme songs playing, the “White Trash Elite” and… some other team, took the floor for the “C Pool” Championship for a chance to win back the $160 entry fee. As you may guess based on the fact that I don’t even remember the other team’s name, “White Trash Elite” took it in quick fashion. This was just a warm-up for the “B Pool” Championship, featuring the “Double Decker Marlins” and the “Superfriends of JC Brown” in what may have been the most exciting match of the tournament. Two teams of grown men, both playing for their pride, honour, the title of Champion…. and the $1000 prize. The format was changed to a best-of-five series for the finals. We walked out of the tunnel to “Danger Zone” and wooed the crowd with our flashy uniforms and dashing good looks before hitting the court. We were caught early by The Marlins’ solid strategy and good skill in catching, which knocked our players out and brought theirs back into the game. They took game 1, which also featured Yours Truly taking a bit of a tumble trying to avoid a ball, sending me up in the air before landing me flat on my back, slippery banana-style. It was clearly impressive, because the crowd went “Ohhhhhh!” and the announcer did the same before commenting on it. In game 2 we kept the throws down low, out of catching range, and worked on breaking down their systematic strategy. We managed to win the game, tying up the series. We again got sloppy in game 3 and the Marlins made us pay, winning with several players remaining for their team. It was now “do or die” for the Superfriends, and we kicked it up a notch winning a long and close battle in game 4 to force a final game for the Title.
This game was a long one. I went off early after being hit in the foot on a good double-toss by two of the Marlins, but after a catch by Cosmo Longo of the Superfriends (yes, that’s his real name), I was back on the court. We battled hard, and the number of players on the court was whittled away slowly but surely. It came down to two-on-two before my teammate was taken out in an attempt to make a catch. I ran forward and took out the assailant, bringing it down to a one-on-one for the victory. Our coach called a time-out to slow it down for thirty seconds. I needed a quick break. Unfortunately we had no waterboy, because the combination of high adrenaline, sweating and heavy breathing had left me a very hurting unit indeed. It was legal to make a substitution during time-out, but I told the coach I was good to go, so it was back to the court to wait for the final whistle of the game.
And…. the whistle blows. I have 3 balls on my side, and he has three. I place one at the back so I could retreat if necessary, and carried the other two forward as he, too, approaches the centerline. I put one down near the halfway mark in case I will need it. He goes for the kill but starts to lose his grip and holds up. I make my throw. It is hard and low, but not directly on target. He moves too quickly and avoids it. Now I am naked, no ball for deflections. He is armed, right at the centerline, and I am only a few meters back, wanting to move farther away but not wanting to move too far from the ball I have placed there. I cannot lean over to pick it up, as that will leave me exposed to his throw. All this goes through my head, but it is only a second before he makes his strike. It is just above knee-level, and moving…. left. I dodge right and the errant throw smashes into the barrier at the rear of the court. I am off-balance from the dodge, but I make my move before he has time to move back and get another ball. I snatch up my ball and take two quick steps toward the line as he backpedals. Not slowing, I let fly. Panic hits the instant it leaves my hand. Too high. It is going for his chest. His hands move up to make the catch, but it is not directly at him. It is slightly off to his left side. His body rapidly rotates to take up the inertia of the ball… and it is in his arms… but it is too much!! He is completely turned around and falling as I see that he cannot handle the throw. I see his arms cradling around the ball that has already left them. The ball strikes the ground several meters behind him and we are Victorious!! The team runs to the court. The thing I remember most clearly is holding up my arm with my finger showing “number 1” while lifted up in a big bearhug, and thinking THIS is why people play sports.
The “A” Championship featured “Ranal Ape” and our nemesis “One Nuts.” After losing the first two, One Nuts came back for the 3-2 victory and the A Pool Championship with its $1000 prize. In a little twist, the organizers decided to feature a game with the “A” and “B” Champions facing off against one another for a “Golden Dodgeball.” Our chance for retribution…. but it would not come. They again took us down 2-1 in the best-of-three series. In game 3, one of their guys caught two balls within one second of each other. Impressive.
So, having won the most prize money and setting the bar in terms of uniforms for subsequent years, we headed home. With sore elbows, knees, shoulders and one likely broken bone…. wearing capes and tights, blue hair and face paint…Clearly, this is what Champions look like.
Friday, September 16, 2005
For good reason
There is a reason that society is not pure democracy. Some individuals or groups are given a form of "veto power." One such example is when people wanted gas taxes taken off because the price went up. Well, that would be great, except then their would be no money to fix the roads and you would have no incentive to get rid of your '74 Pinto.
Another reason there should be veto power is that people in their mob-mentality-induced decision-making processes are bound to agree to anything. A person, in this case myself (natutrally), should have the power to veto a group decision. "This case" happens to be the uniforms for my dodgeball tournament this coming weekend. And I will post pictures when I return - you will see what I mean. Anyway, dodgeball tournament with 92 teams this weekend in Brandon. Cool.
Another reason there should be veto power is that people in their mob-mentality-induced decision-making processes are bound to agree to anything. A person, in this case myself (natutrally), should have the power to veto a group decision. "This case" happens to be the uniforms for my dodgeball tournament this coming weekend. And I will post pictures when I return - you will see what I mean. Anyway, dodgeball tournament with 92 teams this weekend in Brandon. Cool.
Friday, September 09, 2005
One Side of the Conversation
A dramatic re-enactment of my half of two conversations yesterday:
I. Registries
"Hi, I’m from Alberta and I need to get a Manitoba Driver License.”
“Sure I will keep the airbrakes. If it doesn’t cost extra, I guess.”
“I have to renew every year? Yeah, I heard that. In Alberta it’s like every 5 years or something. Guess that makes it more expensive here.”
“I have to register my vehicle every year too, right? For $99? Whoa. This is adding up.”
“Nope, I’m not going to smile for my photo.”
(“Man, I have to renew this every year? It just looks like a piece of laminated cardboard! Totally a rip-off.”)
II. Insurance
“Hello, I need to get Manitoba insurance please.”
“Ok, I can get them to fax that stuff.”
“’96 GMC Sonoma. Regular cab, 2-wheel drive.”
“And I’m a 24-year…oh, you don’t need to know that? You don’t care if I’m a male?”
“No, I live right across the street. Don’t drive to work.”
“Oh, I have to get my vehicle saftied too, hey? Some more money down the drain.”
“I was over at the Registries, looks like this could be costly. How much for the insurance?”
“What? For 6 months?”
“For a YEAR?”
“…”
Right. So with all the extra charges I have to pay, including a safety inspection and registering my vehicle and renewing my license each year, I can get insurance with the same coverage and a LOWER deductible ($200) for approximately…55.5% of what I paid in Alberta. With the same deductible, it will be 50% of the cost.
Strange. It’s government insurance. I guess communism DOES work sometimes.
Well, works for car insurance anyway.
Then again, I worked at a rehab clinic for people who had been in collisions. I probably should have known all along that insurance is a scam. One of those scams that you definitely should buy into.
I. Registries
"Hi, I’m from Alberta and I need to get a Manitoba Driver License.”
“Sure I will keep the airbrakes. If it doesn’t cost extra, I guess.”
“I have to renew every year? Yeah, I heard that. In Alberta it’s like every 5 years or something. Guess that makes it more expensive here.”
“I have to register my vehicle every year too, right? For $99? Whoa. This is adding up.”
“Nope, I’m not going to smile for my photo.”
(“Man, I have to renew this every year? It just looks like a piece of laminated cardboard! Totally a rip-off.”)
II. Insurance
“Hello, I need to get Manitoba insurance please.”
“Ok, I can get them to fax that stuff.”
“’96 GMC Sonoma. Regular cab, 2-wheel drive.”
“And I’m a 24-year…oh, you don’t need to know that? You don’t care if I’m a male?”
“No, I live right across the street. Don’t drive to work.”
“Oh, I have to get my vehicle saftied too, hey? Some more money down the drain.”
“I was over at the Registries, looks like this could be costly. How much for the insurance?”
“What? For 6 months?”
“For a YEAR?”
“…”
Right. So with all the extra charges I have to pay, including a safety inspection and registering my vehicle and renewing my license each year, I can get insurance with the same coverage and a LOWER deductible ($200) for approximately…55.5% of what I paid in Alberta. With the same deductible, it will be 50% of the cost.
Strange. It’s government insurance. I guess communism DOES work sometimes.
Well, works for car insurance anyway.
Then again, I worked at a rehab clinic for people who had been in collisions. I probably should have known all along that insurance is a scam. One of those scams that you definitely should buy into.
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