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.

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.

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.

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...

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)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Random funniness

I had to laugh at the oil companies, whose signs at gas stations do not fit enough digits to display how high the price is. Stupid oil companies.

I also have to laugh at Tim "Who says I'm on the side of the oil companies?" Jacek, who said that the price of gasoline at the pump is a direct reflection of future predictions of the cost of production, because on the highway in the middle of nowhere I got it for $0.99/L when it was $1.10/L in the city. Of course, it's $1.19 now. But $1.09 outside the city.

I laughed at my buddy Paul, who went to Florida a few weeks ago. He pretended at one point to be a Florida Panther. He even got a whole box of business cards printed up, with his name and a Panther logo and whatnot. So he could get into some big bars and parties, where everyone thought he was a high roller. But then, thinking he was a high roller, he had to buy them $20 drinks all night before retiring to a) the girl's house; or b) his $20/night hostel. Crazy man.

Next time, I will try to post the funniness that is a "Social," which is a Manitoba tradition of having a party in a hall or an arena or something before a wedding, to try to raise money for the wedding. It costs money to get in and there are draw prizes for such things as "ExH Agricultural Products" baseball caps and a turkey temperature probe. Very hick. I have some pictures...soon. HEY, at least it's more interesting than DST. Bye for now.

A Fourth Dimension

Seriously...why do so many people know nothing about Daylight Saving Time? And, more importantly, why do they THINK that they DO know?

Well, I guess most people really don't care. But I have heard too many people be wrong lately, so if you read this post, at least YOU won't annoy me with your ignorance any longer.

Daylight Saving Time was absolutely NOT made for farmers. I don't know how many times I have heard this blatant lie. "Yeah, it's for the farmers so they have another hour of sunlight to work the fields." B.S. As if a farmer cares when he gets his sunlight. Daylight Saving Time doesn't add an hour of sunlight, it just makes more sunlight in the evening instead of the morning. A farmer just gets up with the sun. Or maybe he gets up later and uses lights on the combine, since it's the 21st century. But anyway, farmers (in very general terms) would be OPPOSED to DST. Read :

Another complaint is sometimes put forth by people who wake at dawn, or whose schedules are otherwise tied to sunrise, such as farmers. Farmers often dislike the clocks changing mid year. Canadian poultry producer Marty Notenbomer notes, "The chickens do not adapt to the changed clock until several weeks have gone by so the first week of April and the last week of October are very frustrating for us." - source

Ok? So stop trying to make fun of me when I tell you that Saskatchewan didn't adapt DST because of its agriculturally-based economy. Even today, despite the fact that the urban municipalities there voted to change to DST, all rural areas voted against it so they continue with one time throughout the year. There is always disagreement about which time zone they would adapt, Mountain or Central, since the time zone line would run nearly straight down the middle of the province.

DST was developed not too long after time zones were created. Time zones were actually made by the railroads (Canadian Sanford Fleming). It started when it was realized that people's schedules were such that, in the summer they would be awakening after the sun was up, and staying up after it had gone down. By a simple move of the clock, it could be made such that there was an extra hour of sun in the evening, so people could enjoy the summer and use less electricity. It wasn't adopted with any sort of a standard (sometimes even across counties in the UK, nevermind over countries) for a long time. In WWI, its energy-savings potential was realzied and many countries throughout the world adopted it, starting with Germany and Austria. Shortly thereafter, many European countries follwed, along with some notables such as Manitoba and Nova Scotia. During WWII, the US actually institued DST (called "War Time") for more than 3 straight years.

So now you know. It is to save energy. Not for farmers. That's all.

Une demonstration aerienne

Well, now I have a semi-reliable connection. I just go to my friends' house. Since I sleep here pretty much every weekend, I can get one post per week up. That's good, right? Right?


Anyway, last weekend I went to the air show. It was AWESOME. So here are some fine pics of the show. This is some crazy 60 year-old dude who flies in nothing but loops and rolls and Cuban 8's and hammerheads and various other aerobatic moves in his souped-up biplane.

Next is the good ol' GAU-8/U Avenger cannon...oops, I mean an A-10 Thunderbolt II. But the gun is the avenger. It's big. Like, really big. True, I've seen bigger...but never on a plane.





And finally, the often-imitaded, never duplicated CF Snowbirds. These guys are amazing. It looks like they are all tied together, even when they are going through climbs, descents and turns. Ridiculous.




That's it for now. I hope you have an awesome weekend.

Life in Heck

That's right, folks, I now really live in Heck. That's because I have no internet access where I live.

It's horrible. Shaw Cable doesn't even service the building, so to get internet myself (I had been stealing someone's wireless) I would have to get a phone AND an internet connection. That would be over $60/mo all told. I feel socially isolated.

Luckily, I have found a new way. I just have to drive about 20 min to get to Bar Italia, an upstanding public bar in the Little Italy of Winnipeg. Then I just need to buy something (namely, pints of beer) and I get free wireless internet. So basically, it's like I get internet for free, and being able to get beer is just a bonus. At least that's how I need to look at it if I wish to avoid seeing myself as an alcoholic. So hopefully that's the way it actually is.

In other news, completely unrelated news, there was excessive drinking this past weekend on Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday. Lucky for me I managed to bow out to be the designated driver on on Sunday, and got to drive a drop-top Mustang on the highway in the sunshine. But really, should 4 guys be able to finish 4 x 40 oz bottles and 2 x flats of beer in one little night? I would argue 'no.' And then do it again the next day? That's just ridiculous. On Friday it was hanging out outside by the fire, while on Saturday night it was a social and some camping in Carman, MB. There was one male and one female in each of three tents, and nothing went anywhere. MAY have been related to various people passing out. Luckily, at that point, we were out of tents so I went inside my buddy's house to sleep (we were camping in the back 40 behind the house). And then they all woke up at 9 and drank all day, including a case in the car on the way home. Also during gokarting and bumper boats. Until 9pm. Damn.

I realize this post is full of rambling and nonsense and poor sentence structure. Next time, I will write the post before I get the beer. Have a great day.

Yeah...I'm pretty much the best I know.

Last week...I flew a helicopter.

I'm not gonna lie. It was awesome.

We started out in Winnipeg and were planning to fly to Portage la Prairie. Luckily we were off the ground and on our way before we had our first problem, a TOT failure (yeah, I don't know either, it has something to do with a temperature indication in the turbine), and second problem, a generator failure. So my first chance at actually flying the thing myself was when the pilot was flipping breakers, and on the radio to the air traffic controller telling him we might drop off their radar because we could have to make an emergency landing. Sweet. Nothing like learning under pressure. Like when you're trying to learn to drive a standard by starting out going up a hill, with 5 drunk guys in the back of the truck. Except your life is in danger, rather than just your dignity and respect.

Note the gauge in the middle there reading zero. It's supposed to be reading 600 or something like that. Oops.

Well, we made it to Portage and swapped it up for another, working, helo. Now the fun begins as he demonstrates for me how to hover, and tells me how to do it. Believe it or not, easier said than done. I think at one point during my hover, which was supposed to be stationary at about 5 ft, I was actually moving at about 20 knots and 30 ft. Oops. I was starting to get the hang of it, though. Then, he flew us into a "confined space landing," which involved putting us down in a patch of grass barely bigger than the helicopter, completely surrounded by trees that were at least 40 ft high. Supposedly I will be able to do that someday. I guess I had better work on the hovering first.

Then I got dropped off at the Shell station on the highway where I was picked up by my buddy and I headed off for a weekend of driving and camping. Yeah, it sure did feel like I was a rock star to be dropped off by helicopter.

Why EVERYONE isn't trying to be a pilot, I don't know.

Maybe EVERYONE is a Crazy

I've come into contact with some strange people lately. Some good examples:

1. Today, in the Giant Tiger, a guy came up to me in the aisle and said, "Since you're here, there are steak tenderloin (holds up so I can see his steak tenderloin) for only $3.97."

"Oh yeah? That's a pretty good price."

"They're loads of them. They're in the freezer just over there."

"Oh, great, thanks!"

Now, this is fine. Except they have been that price for months. And they don't look very good. And I don't have a barbeque anyway. But really, who goes up to strangers in a grocery store and tries to get them deals? Strange.

2. When I was leaving Superstore, I saw a lady who was there with a young girl and a man who was presumably her husband. They were leaving with a fairly full cart. But then they stopped at the bin where you can drop stuff off for the food bank, and she discretely grabbed some things out of it.

Aren't you supposed to go to the food bank for that? I think when you take food you didn't pay for out of a store, they call that stealing. Mind you, I did that (sort of) a couple weeks ago. I got some food at Harvey's and they accidentally put fries in my bag. I thought it was strange when they asked me if I wanted ketchup for my chicken, but I said yes anyway. Then I realized I had fries. I figured they wouldn't take them back, so I just gave them to the homeless people outside. Same idea, I suppose. But read on, the next one is better.

3. I was in the back seat of a car driving on the highway yesterday, and we stopped at a gas station to fill up. I took a few extra seconds to get out because I was stuck behind stupid reverse doors that can only open from the outside. When I got out, I saw the guy who had been driving our car, a Tempo employee, and another customer in a seriously heated conversation. I wasn't too sure at this point what was going on, but the big Tempo guy was about to walk away, then turned around and told the other customer that, "If you say one more thing, I'm going to punch you in the face." Hmm. That's not good customer service. I guess he had thrown the other customer up against the gas pump when the driver of my car ran over there and told him to stop it and pulled him off the guy. Turns out Tempo had put gas in his diesel engine and he got a wee bit upset. Understandable. Tempo employees throwing people up against gas pumps...not so much.

4. While in my truck and about to leave the Earl's parking lot in Edmonton, I was approached by a sad-looking and disheveled girl of about 18 years old or so. She knocked on my window so I rolled it down, and this was her story (which she told me all in about 6 seconds):

"Hi, my mom and me and my little sister are here, my mom had to be here for a court case today and we're from Calgary and my little sister is not feeling very well, see that's my mom standing across the street over there, and she was here for a court case today and she forgot her bank card and now we have no gas so could you maybe give us like $40 for gas or something so we can get home?"

(Holy crap) "Uh..what? You're here for a court case and ran out of gas?"

"Yeah our van is parked over on that street there and my mom forgot her bank card, and we can't get back to Calgary and we were just here for a day for a court case, and my little sister is in the van. That's my mom over there."

(Hmmm) "Ok, you're out of gas and want to get back to Calgary."

"Yeah and I'm wondering if you could give me like $40 or something so we could get back home with my sister because we're just here for the day and my mom forgot her bank card."

(Strange, but I would like to help) "Ok, where exactly is your van? I will meet you there and call AMA and they can bring us some gas."

"...Uh...uh...I was just wondering if you could give me $40 for gas because my mom forgot her bank card and we were just here for the day and my little sister..."

(Uh-huh) "Ok, I get it, but if you meet me over at your van there I will call AMA and they will bring some gas. Ok? Go get your mom and meet me there."

".....ok, it's just over there I will meet you there."

So she starts running over to her mom, across the street. I drive past her and her mom, and they aren't going anywhere. I go to exactly where she said her white van was, just around the corner. There's no white van. Big surprise. I wait 5 minutes, carry on home.

Friggin strange people.

Apology to the ones that brought me here

How did they know? Seriously, with all sorts of things that have happened to me in the last 3 years, I could go back to my parents and they would be well within their rights to say, "I told you so."

On taking care of other people's stuff: "Once you get your own car, you will understand." I sure will. I take good care of my car. It gets washed weekly, waxed and cleaned often, and properly maintained. When I was driving their cars, I could go for months - in the winter, no less - without a car wash. Hence, it is now in Hamilton rusting to pieces with the grill falling off. Sorry.

On cleaning up: "I can't stand getting home from work to a messy house. You will see, once you start going to work." This one was bang-on. When I got home to my house and there were dishes piled in the sink and crap all over the tables and floor, the blood pressure went through the roof. Just ask Kyle. I turned into the most annoying nag, because it drove me inSANE. I went back to my parents and told them. Sorry, mom and dad.

On making money: "No matter how much you make, you will never seem to have more." 100% accurate. I will make $30k more dollars this year than I did two years ago. But I don't FEEL like I have more money. It doesn't seem like I can spend any more than before, and it certainly isn't piling up. It just seems like I have more things I have to pay for now.

On friends: "Some will come and go, but never forget the good ones that will be there for you." Yep, this is true. I have had high school friends and university friends and work friends and girlfriends, and sometimes I pay more attention to one of these groups than another. But I know which ones are good friends. They're probably the same ones who will be commenting later at how my blog sucks and I need to quit my damn whining and stop being so lame. Ahh, good friends.

There are many other examples. What does it all mean? Am I getting old? Am I getting wise? Or was I just a really stupid kid? Who knows?

Ernest (Smokey) Smith, VC

On an October night in 1944, a young man from New Westminster, BC, ran into some enemy on the bridgehead his Seaforth Highlanders had just established across the Savio River in Italy. He was supported by neither tanks nor guns. This is what he did:

Under heavy fire from the approaching enemy tanks, Private Smith, showing great initiative and inspiring leadership, led his P.I.A.T. Group of two men across an open field to a position from which the P.I.A.T. could best be employed. Leaving one man on the weapon, Private Smith crossed the road with a companion and obtained another P.I.A.T. Almost immediately an enemy tank came down the road firing its machine-guns along the line of the ditches. Private Smith's comrade was wounded. At a range of thirty feet and having to expose himself to the full view of the enemy, Private Smith fired the P.I.A.T. and hit the tank, putting it out of action. Ten German infantry immediately jumped off the back of the tank and charged him with Schmeissers and grenades. Without hesitation Private Smith moved out on the road and with his Tommy gun at point-blank range, killed four Germans and drove the remainder back. Almost immediately another tank opened fire and more enemy infantry closed in on Smith's position. Obtaining some abandoned Tommy gun magazines from a ditch, he steadfastly held his position, protecting his comrade and fighting the enemy with his Tommy gun until they finally gave up and withdrew in disorder.

-From the Victoria Cross Citation for Ernest (Smokey) Smith, VC, who was Canada's last living Victoria Cross recipient. He died Wednesday.

Because I'm hot

No, seriously, because I'm hot. Like, overheating.

That's why I don't have time to post. Because yesterday the humidex was 41. The day before it was 38. It only gets down to about 27 at night. So I can't stay in my room (with its lack of air conditioning, or air movement for that matter), due to serious health risks posed to myself.

As soon as it's not deathly hot I will get posting again. In the meantime, I'll be by the pool/at the driving range/at the movies/out for dinner. MAN, my job is so hard.