Columbia Icefield
Floaties at Shushwap
Moves on the boat
Good times on the beach
A brewski at the 6km mark of the hike
Good summer timesSunday, July 30, 2006
Nice blog, no-blog
Ok ok, so I haven't updated in a while. I WAS BUSY, OK? And busy in this case means "On vacation." Here are no stories, and a few pics of good times...
Columbia Icefield
Floaties at Shushwap
Moves on the boat
Good times on the beach
A brewski at the 6km mark of the hike
Good summer times
Columbia IcefieldFloaties at ShushwapMoves on the boatGood times on the beachA brewski at the 6km mark of the hikeGood summer times
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Survived
Yes, I am alive and well, back from my survival course in the horrible swamps of eastern Manitoba. I could tell you all about it, chronilogical-like, but instead I will tell you in a different way. I will tell you all the things I realized, sitting on the bus on the way back from the course, that I should be more thankful for. In general order of importance:
1) A BUG-FREE ENVIRONMENT - Sure, there is the odd spider in the basement. I get a few mosquito bites if I hang out outside long enough in the summer, or go golfing at the crappy course by my place in Winnipeg. But that doesn't even begin to compare with the bugs I was putting up with last week. They were absolutely ridiculous. They even gave us some special spray to soak our clothes with (for which we had to sign a waiver due to health concerns), and I still got eaten alive. I had the gortex cover for my sleeping bag completely closed around me except for a breathing hole of about 3 inches across. Into that hole I put my insect headnet to block any intruders. They still made it into my sleeping bag, and bit my face enough that my lips were swollen and my right eye swelled completely shut after one night. Worst. But there were actually people in worse circumstances than me. If I hung out right next to the lake and away from the woods, there was a bit of a wind to keep the bugs away. Guys on the opposite shore were actually wearing their rain coats and rain pants all day because the bugs can't bite through them (it was 28 and sunny).
2) PEOPLE TO TALK TO - For the last 48 hours, I was all alone. The extent of my interaction was an instructor coming along, once each day for about 1 minute, to make sure my shelter was up, snares were out, that sort of thing. You can get pretty bored all alone like that, let me tell you. Kind of start to go crazy, even. Going through crappy situations, with someone else doing the same thing, and being able to talk about it...that is much preferred.
3) FOOD - That's right, I had 6 jujubes and 4 little packs of juice mix to last me 2 days. That obviously doesn't fill you up, but you sure do learn to enjoy every little morsel of food. For the first 7 days I had two meals per day, and that definitely got me started getting hungry. I would beg for the little tubes of peanut butter out of the ration packs (since it was about the only thing that wasn't all sugar), and some guys raided the garage where they stored the food and liberated a few meals. As for the final part when I was alone with my jujubes, I ate them in about 10 bites each, even though they were only about 2 inches long. The only fish I got was about 4 inches long, and supplied maybe a gram of protein. I was starting to get a bit light-headed whenever I stood up, and I was tripping over tree roots and rocks when walking around. On the way back we stopped at Chicken Chef, and the guy next to me ordered a large poutine and a pizza. Apparently he missed food, too.
4) AVAILABLE WATER - Overall, this wasn't really a big deal. We weren't given any water and there weren't any taps or anything, but we could go down to the lake to get it, and we had tabs and water pumps to filter it. However, on the day where we were doing navigation, it was 4 of us out in the middle of the crappy Manitoba swamp, and we ran out of water. We were just walking through this crap all day and it was at least 25 degrees or so, and almost 100% humidity. Lucky for that last point, because when it started to rain, we unfolded our waterproofed maps and made them all like funnels into a cup so we could have something to drink. We were getting pretty desparate there.
5) A PLACE TO SIT - All I had was a flat rock. Flat rocks aren't comfortable for sitting on. Or for laying on, for that matter. I definitely thought of this one while I was sitting on the soft cushy bus seat, it definitely struck the contrast.
But hey, I'm alive, and back to civilization. And I am sure I will soon be complaining that my food is too cold or that there is a fly in the house or that the water tastes bad or that my back hurts because this chair is so soft. How quickly I forget.
1) A BUG-FREE ENVIRONMENT - Sure, there is the odd spider in the basement. I get a few mosquito bites if I hang out outside long enough in the summer, or go golfing at the crappy course by my place in Winnipeg. But that doesn't even begin to compare with the bugs I was putting up with last week. They were absolutely ridiculous. They even gave us some special spray to soak our clothes with (for which we had to sign a waiver due to health concerns), and I still got eaten alive. I had the gortex cover for my sleeping bag completely closed around me except for a breathing hole of about 3 inches across. Into that hole I put my insect headnet to block any intruders. They still made it into my sleeping bag, and bit my face enough that my lips were swollen and my right eye swelled completely shut after one night. Worst. But there were actually people in worse circumstances than me. If I hung out right next to the lake and away from the woods, there was a bit of a wind to keep the bugs away. Guys on the opposite shore were actually wearing their rain coats and rain pants all day because the bugs can't bite through them (it was 28 and sunny).
2) PEOPLE TO TALK TO - For the last 48 hours, I was all alone. The extent of my interaction was an instructor coming along, once each day for about 1 minute, to make sure my shelter was up, snares were out, that sort of thing. You can get pretty bored all alone like that, let me tell you. Kind of start to go crazy, even. Going through crappy situations, with someone else doing the same thing, and being able to talk about it...that is much preferred.
3) FOOD - That's right, I had 6 jujubes and 4 little packs of juice mix to last me 2 days. That obviously doesn't fill you up, but you sure do learn to enjoy every little morsel of food. For the first 7 days I had two meals per day, and that definitely got me started getting hungry. I would beg for the little tubes of peanut butter out of the ration packs (since it was about the only thing that wasn't all sugar), and some guys raided the garage where they stored the food and liberated a few meals. As for the final part when I was alone with my jujubes, I ate them in about 10 bites each, even though they were only about 2 inches long. The only fish I got was about 4 inches long, and supplied maybe a gram of protein. I was starting to get a bit light-headed whenever I stood up, and I was tripping over tree roots and rocks when walking around. On the way back we stopped at Chicken Chef, and the guy next to me ordered a large poutine and a pizza. Apparently he missed food, too.
4) AVAILABLE WATER - Overall, this wasn't really a big deal. We weren't given any water and there weren't any taps or anything, but we could go down to the lake to get it, and we had tabs and water pumps to filter it. However, on the day where we were doing navigation, it was 4 of us out in the middle of the crappy Manitoba swamp, and we ran out of water. We were just walking through this crap all day and it was at least 25 degrees or so, and almost 100% humidity. Lucky for that last point, because when it started to rain, we unfolded our waterproofed maps and made them all like funnels into a cup so we could have something to drink. We were getting pretty desparate there.
5) A PLACE TO SIT - All I had was a flat rock. Flat rocks aren't comfortable for sitting on. Or for laying on, for that matter. I definitely thought of this one while I was sitting on the soft cushy bus seat, it definitely struck the contrast.
But hey, I'm alive, and back to civilization. And I am sure I will soon be complaining that my food is too cold or that there is a fly in the house or that the water tastes bad or that my back hurts because this chair is so soft. How quickly I forget.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Activity
I haven't been very active in updating this blog lately. Well, that is likely to continue since I will be out in the bush for the next 9 days. I will post something about my trip when I get back.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Bad medic
In other, way more hilarious news, I was getting my annual medical done today. That includes a 10-lead EKG, which puts 2 little sticky leads on my calves, 2 on my arms, and 6 on my chest. The medic was having trouble getting a good reading because my chest hair was pushing them away from my skin. And I quote:
"Geez man, I've had geriatrics with congenital heart failure, and I've never had this much difficulty getting a reading. I don't know if I should shave you or throw you a friggin' banana."
Bad blog
Yep, you're right. This blog fell off. Two weeks without a post. As an excuse, I had my final exams for my french course. That didn't mean that I had any less free time, but it is all I have as an excuse.
On that subject, someone in The Public Service of Canada made quite the mistake in assessing my level of french. There were two paper tests, one for comprehension and the other for grammar. Then there is an intervew by telephone with some overpaid civil servant in Ottawa. Usually it lasts between 30 and 45 minutes, in which they feel they can assess the candidate's level of french comprehension and production. Well, my interview lasted 40 minutes, but apparently that is not long enough. It was not long enough for her to determine that my vocabulary is extremely limited and that I have to take way too many breaks to think of the right word to use next. Because I got as high of a score as is possible. This means that I will never - EVER - have to take another french course, nor french test, for the rest of my career. 30 years from now, I could get sent to a francophone position in Quebec or Ottawa, and they would fully expect that I am fluent in the language. Even if I hadn't used it for any of those 30 years.
The first impression was, "Awesome, I got the highest mark, now I won't have to use up career time in the future taking more courses and tests."
The second impression was, "Holy crap, they really think I know how to speak french. There is something seriously wrong with that test. Suckers."
Finally, "Uh no. They are really going to EXPECT that I can speak french now."
I guess it is now up to me to keep speaking french. I know none of YOU are going to support that; in fact, I am sure I would be the subject of much verbal and physical abuse if I tried to speak it around you. But I will have to do it somehow.
"With great power, comes great responsibility." I guess I'm kind of like Spiderman like that. A really slow, french-speaking Spiderman who can't leap tall buildings in a single bound.
On that subject, someone in The Public Service of Canada made quite the mistake in assessing my level of french. There were two paper tests, one for comprehension and the other for grammar. Then there is an intervew by telephone with some overpaid civil servant in Ottawa. Usually it lasts between 30 and 45 minutes, in which they feel they can assess the candidate's level of french comprehension and production. Well, my interview lasted 40 minutes, but apparently that is not long enough. It was not long enough for her to determine that my vocabulary is extremely limited and that I have to take way too many breaks to think of the right word to use next. Because I got as high of a score as is possible. This means that I will never - EVER - have to take another french course, nor french test, for the rest of my career. 30 years from now, I could get sent to a francophone position in Quebec or Ottawa, and they would fully expect that I am fluent in the language. Even if I hadn't used it for any of those 30 years.
The first impression was, "Awesome, I got the highest mark, now I won't have to use up career time in the future taking more courses and tests."
The second impression was, "Holy crap, they really think I know how to speak french. There is something seriously wrong with that test. Suckers."
Finally, "Uh no. They are really going to EXPECT that I can speak french now."
I guess it is now up to me to keep speaking french. I know none of YOU are going to support that; in fact, I am sure I would be the subject of much verbal and physical abuse if I tried to speak it around you. But I will have to do it somehow.
"With great power, comes great responsibility." I guess I'm kind of like Spiderman like that. A really slow, french-speaking Spiderman who can't leap tall buildings in a single bound.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
On Sport
Check out this link, from the Oilers' game on Thursday. Sixteen thousand people singing O Canada together - I wonder when was the last time THAT happened. I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Ron McLean knew how I was feeling when he said, "That, like all the things we love, never gets old."
But then I reflected on it, for just a moment, from another point of view. Where these people really singing because they are proud Canadians? A number of them, probably. But I would say that most of them are singing because they are Oilers fans, and they think this shows how great of fans they are. Personally, I don't need the Stanley Cup playoffs to inspire me to show respect for my country and its anthem.
Fortunately, I didn't stop thinking about it after that. And I actually came to a conclusion, rather than my too-often fallback position of fence-sitting.
This is far from the worst example of patriotism and pride - it is, rather, one of the best examples of the power of the good in sport.
We had a rough relationship for a while there, sport and I. When I got to university, I almost totally stopped playing team sports. Instead, I had to study it. I had classes in sport physiology. Sport ethics. Sociology of sport. Psychology of sport. Sport Administration. Sport injury, sport rehabilitation, sport history, and a whole schedule of others. I got pretty pissed off with sports in general, and I would try to avoid studying them any more than I had to. I even somehow got away with writing about the potlach for my sport history class; I guess that falls under the "sport and leisure" category. Anyway, having finished my classes and done what I thought was the more honourable thing to do in the field (working with the injured in the general population, rather than spoiled athletes), I found through my horrible disappointment in that field that there may be something good to sports - namely, motivation. While not forgetting this, it was soon overshadowed by the NHL lockout, which, according to my somewhat jaded view at the time, pitted a bunch of whiny millionaires against a bunch of whiny millionaires.
Luckily for me, and for everyone as far as I'm concerned, sport keeps coming back. Though sometimes you can get some of the positive effects of sport without the organization (as I have previously written), I must admit that nothing can compare to sport. Any sport.
What else is there in the world that makes me, alone in my room, jump off my bed screaming, pumping my arms in the air? Because some guy I have never met, putting a little piece of rubber behind another guy, 1000 miles away from me, has caused that reaction. Wearing the same jersey in a sports bar makes you automatic friends. Wanting to maintain the fitness to play will motivate people to eat just about anything, and do a ridiculous amount of preparation hardly rivalled by any other professional.
Yes, Sport can sometimes motivate too much. And sometimes the fans look past the reason for the competition.
And yet, it is still athletes who have to power to unite millions (I have never met as many Oilers fans outside of Edmonton as I have in the past few weeks). Sport provides inspiration for a child. If two people meet, having never met before, and they find that they both love to golf, they might as well have been friends for years by the sudden connection they can make. Sport can make participant and fan alike cry. It can give smiles. It gives broken bones and scrapes and sprains, and the athletes love to talk of these battle scars. Two participants, or two fans, can be going at each other for hours and still have the highest respect for the other. Taking on challenges and defeats in sport prepares those who know them for challenges in all other aspects of life. And the feeling - the feeling of competition; the hard hits; the big throw; the sacrifice for the team; and maybe, if you have worked hard enough and everything falls into place, the victory - it is unbeatable.
We're ok again, sport and I.
But then I reflected on it, for just a moment, from another point of view. Where these people really singing because they are proud Canadians? A number of them, probably. But I would say that most of them are singing because they are Oilers fans, and they think this shows how great of fans they are. Personally, I don't need the Stanley Cup playoffs to inspire me to show respect for my country and its anthem.
Fortunately, I didn't stop thinking about it after that. And I actually came to a conclusion, rather than my too-often fallback position of fence-sitting.
This is far from the worst example of patriotism and pride - it is, rather, one of the best examples of the power of the good in sport.
We had a rough relationship for a while there, sport and I. When I got to university, I almost totally stopped playing team sports. Instead, I had to study it. I had classes in sport physiology. Sport ethics. Sociology of sport. Psychology of sport. Sport Administration. Sport injury, sport rehabilitation, sport history, and a whole schedule of others. I got pretty pissed off with sports in general, and I would try to avoid studying them any more than I had to. I even somehow got away with writing about the potlach for my sport history class; I guess that falls under the "sport and leisure" category. Anyway, having finished my classes and done what I thought was the more honourable thing to do in the field (working with the injured in the general population, rather than spoiled athletes), I found through my horrible disappointment in that field that there may be something good to sports - namely, motivation. While not forgetting this, it was soon overshadowed by the NHL lockout, which, according to my somewhat jaded view at the time, pitted a bunch of whiny millionaires against a bunch of whiny millionaires.
Luckily for me, and for everyone as far as I'm concerned, sport keeps coming back. Though sometimes you can get some of the positive effects of sport without the organization (as I have previously written), I must admit that nothing can compare to sport. Any sport.
What else is there in the world that makes me, alone in my room, jump off my bed screaming, pumping my arms in the air? Because some guy I have never met, putting a little piece of rubber behind another guy, 1000 miles away from me, has caused that reaction. Wearing the same jersey in a sports bar makes you automatic friends. Wanting to maintain the fitness to play will motivate people to eat just about anything, and do a ridiculous amount of preparation hardly rivalled by any other professional.
Yes, Sport can sometimes motivate too much. And sometimes the fans look past the reason for the competition.
And yet, it is still athletes who have to power to unite millions (I have never met as many Oilers fans outside of Edmonton as I have in the past few weeks). Sport provides inspiration for a child. If two people meet, having never met before, and they find that they both love to golf, they might as well have been friends for years by the sudden connection they can make. Sport can make participant and fan alike cry. It can give smiles. It gives broken bones and scrapes and sprains, and the athletes love to talk of these battle scars. Two participants, or two fans, can be going at each other for hours and still have the highest respect for the other. Taking on challenges and defeats in sport prepares those who know them for challenges in all other aspects of life. And the feeling - the feeling of competition; the hard hits; the big throw; the sacrifice for the team; and maybe, if you have worked hard enough and everything falls into place, the victory - it is unbeatable.
We're ok again, sport and I.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
I'm famous
The other day, I was shown this magazine:
Now, I am not normally one to read its lies and misleading stories, but apparently...someone wrote in about me. For background see this previous post, number 1. Yeah.
Now, I am not normally one to read its lies and misleading stories, but apparently...someone wrote in about me. For background see this previous post, number 1. Yeah.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
The best job in the world
I was walking through a park yesterday. It is one of those parks where people drive their pimped out corvettes and cruisers, as well as their '04 Sunbirds with huge spoilers, around in circles for no particular reason. And what I decided during this time was that something was missing. None of these cars were doing it for me. They all looked rather ridiculous. Big and bulky. The side mirrors looking like little underdeveloped stubs sticking out to the side. Everything pretty much rectangular. Everything so heavy. I guess that's why I don't care too much if I drive a "cute" truck with an old-man canopy, because they all generally look the same to me. I don't know why.
Then I went to a movie last night, and I realized why. Because cars ARE slow and bulky and cumbersome. Compared to fighter planes.
I went to see Fighter Pilot at IMAX. Check out a quick trailer here. It was awesome. All of those planes and helicopters look pretty cumbersome and ungainly on the ground too. With their peg-leg landing gear and strange looking control surfaces moving around, they can't do much better than a car. But put any one of those aircraft in flight, and...wow, that is how machines should move. The engines are roaring, but the moves look effortless. No longer confined to 3 dimensions. The bulkiest transport plane up there has more grace than the sleekest sports car on the road, and the slowest helicopter looks smoother than a luxury sedan. Then there were at least 7 different fighters planes, the most powerful things in the sky. I could watch those things move all day.
Until I can get in one. Three more months. I can't wait to get up there again.
Note: No, I won't be flying one of those
Then I went to a movie last night, and I realized why. Because cars ARE slow and bulky and cumbersome. Compared to fighter planes.
I went to see Fighter Pilot at IMAX. Check out a quick trailer here. It was awesome. All of those planes and helicopters look pretty cumbersome and ungainly on the ground too. With their peg-leg landing gear and strange looking control surfaces moving around, they can't do much better than a car. But put any one of those aircraft in flight, and...wow, that is how machines should move. The engines are roaring, but the moves look effortless. No longer confined to 3 dimensions. The bulkiest transport plane up there has more grace than the sleekest sports car on the road, and the slowest helicopter looks smoother than a luxury sedan. Then there were at least 7 different fighters planes, the most powerful things in the sky. I could watch those things move all day.
Until I can get in one. Three more months. I can't wait to get up there again.
Note: No, I won't be flying one of those
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Prairie Hot Spots
I had a free weekend. My buddy from here in Winnipeg and I decided we should go meet up with our friends that have moved away. So where would we meet? Why, in the number one party place on the Prairies - Regina, of course.
I unfortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) didn't get any pictures of our escapades. Therefore, I will have to describe them.
We took the guy's girlfriend's sweet grocery-getting Vibe at 150km/h down the Transcanada to arrive at the hotel by 8pm. The others arrived minutes later, and together we started off the festivities by dining on a few liquid barley sandwiches. Deciding to go to the "cool" Regina bar, the Pump, we set off on foot. A stop at MacDonald's was necessary, where everyone else added to their caloric intake by wolfing down a couple double cheeseburgers each. We made it to the bar to find, much to our surprise, a ridiculously long lineup. In Regina? Seriously, nobody even likes this place, why is the lineup so long? And there weren't even very many cowboy hats. How disappointing. So after waiting for an hour and moving up to a position very near the door, we decided we should go to another bar. The wait in line was highlighted by some drunk guy getting thrown out and yelling at the bouncer, "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FAT? HUH? YOU THINK YOU'RE FAT OR SOMETHING?" Ha. Yes, I'm sure that is what he thinks.
We get to the other bar. This is more like what I had in mind for Regina. There is a hot chicken finger-eating contest, a really bad local band playing AC/DC, and some dude walking around with a Viagra skidoo jacket on. After many drinks and some of the guys wanting to fight, we took a taxi to yet another bar. The taxi ride was highlighted by the passengers giving advice to each other on various ways to avoid fathering a child. "Rusty coat hanger!" "Sex her, and then WAM punch her in the stomach!" Gross. I'm sure the taxi driver was impressed. And after all that, he yelled at ME. For closing the window.
And after that, we went back to the oringinal bar. We found it very easy to get in. Just use the "out" door. Near the end of the night, the beer-tub girl was trying to get rid of her beer, so we got 15 bottles for $25. Not bad. Leaving the bar, the seven of us approached one pair of girls. One of the guys said, "Oh man, I'm so wasted, we've been doing coke all day, man!" The girls didn't like that. They started to run. One of the guys ran after them at a full sprint. Those girls ran pretty fast in heels.
It was at this time that we decided we needed Burger King. Tried to go through the drive-thru, without car. No luck. I guess the kid working had served these guys before, and almost lost his job. He suggested we try the MacD's. So that's what we did. Can you imagine 4 grown men jumping up and down on a magnetic sensor, trying to get it to activate so an order could be placed? Believe it or not, that doesn't create a magnetic field of any sort. Anyway, we got in formation like we were in a car, and followed the other cars forward. One guy had his hands on the imaginary steering wheel. Another kept on rolling down the imaginary window and yelling at another guy who was standing on the grass. "GET IN THE CAR, KYLE! GET BACK IN HERE RIGHT NOW." A guy from a car in front of us came back and told us that he was a cop, and that there were police cars already on the way. I guess it is illegal to stand in line. He advised us to leave. We didn't listen. It was about this time that the 14 year-old kid in the window started yelling at us and telling us to leave. We claimed we just wanted food. He said he couldn't give us any. We said we had money and they had food, and we just wanted to make an exchange. He said we needed a car. We said we were drunk. He asked if we had money. We said yes. He told us we should put our money together and buy a car. Smartass. So one guy starts yelling demeaning things at him, and we know we're not getting burgers. So we start to leave.
Just then, some kids who had been watching from nearby got off their bikes. And pulled out a firecracker.
One guy put it on his shoulder and aimed. The other guy lit it.
And the firecracker went flying. Directly through the drive-thru window and into the MacDonald's.
Now THAT is more like the Regina I imagined.
I unfortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) didn't get any pictures of our escapades. Therefore, I will have to describe them.
We took the guy's girlfriend's sweet grocery-getting Vibe at 150km/h down the Transcanada to arrive at the hotel by 8pm. The others arrived minutes later, and together we started off the festivities by dining on a few liquid barley sandwiches. Deciding to go to the "cool" Regina bar, the Pump, we set off on foot. A stop at MacDonald's was necessary, where everyone else added to their caloric intake by wolfing down a couple double cheeseburgers each. We made it to the bar to find, much to our surprise, a ridiculously long lineup. In Regina? Seriously, nobody even likes this place, why is the lineup so long? And there weren't even very many cowboy hats. How disappointing. So after waiting for an hour and moving up to a position very near the door, we decided we should go to another bar. The wait in line was highlighted by some drunk guy getting thrown out and yelling at the bouncer, "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FAT? HUH? YOU THINK YOU'RE FAT OR SOMETHING?" Ha. Yes, I'm sure that is what he thinks.
We get to the other bar. This is more like what I had in mind for Regina. There is a hot chicken finger-eating contest, a really bad local band playing AC/DC, and some dude walking around with a Viagra skidoo jacket on. After many drinks and some of the guys wanting to fight, we took a taxi to yet another bar. The taxi ride was highlighted by the passengers giving advice to each other on various ways to avoid fathering a child. "Rusty coat hanger!" "Sex her, and then WAM punch her in the stomach!" Gross. I'm sure the taxi driver was impressed. And after all that, he yelled at ME. For closing the window.
And after that, we went back to the oringinal bar. We found it very easy to get in. Just use the "out" door. Near the end of the night, the beer-tub girl was trying to get rid of her beer, so we got 15 bottles for $25. Not bad. Leaving the bar, the seven of us approached one pair of girls. One of the guys said, "Oh man, I'm so wasted, we've been doing coke all day, man!" The girls didn't like that. They started to run. One of the guys ran after them at a full sprint. Those girls ran pretty fast in heels.
It was at this time that we decided we needed Burger King. Tried to go through the drive-thru, without car. No luck. I guess the kid working had served these guys before, and almost lost his job. He suggested we try the MacD's. So that's what we did. Can you imagine 4 grown men jumping up and down on a magnetic sensor, trying to get it to activate so an order could be placed? Believe it or not, that doesn't create a magnetic field of any sort. Anyway, we got in formation like we were in a car, and followed the other cars forward. One guy had his hands on the imaginary steering wheel. Another kept on rolling down the imaginary window and yelling at another guy who was standing on the grass. "GET IN THE CAR, KYLE! GET BACK IN HERE RIGHT NOW." A guy from a car in front of us came back and told us that he was a cop, and that there were police cars already on the way. I guess it is illegal to stand in line. He advised us to leave. We didn't listen. It was about this time that the 14 year-old kid in the window started yelling at us and telling us to leave. We claimed we just wanted food. He said he couldn't give us any. We said we had money and they had food, and we just wanted to make an exchange. He said we needed a car. We said we were drunk. He asked if we had money. We said yes. He told us we should put our money together and buy a car. Smartass. So one guy starts yelling demeaning things at him, and we know we're not getting burgers. So we start to leave.
Just then, some kids who had been watching from nearby got off their bikes. And pulled out a firecracker.
One guy put it on his shoulder and aimed. The other guy lit it.
And the firecracker went flying. Directly through the drive-thru window and into the MacDonald's.
Now THAT is more like the Regina I imagined.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
America
I stole this link from Jay's blog, because it is absolutely ridiculously hilarious. It is Stephen Colbert's monologue at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. Enjoy.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Budget
Animateur: "Est-ce que Le Bloc soutiendra le budget du gouvernement conservatuer?"
Gilles Duceppe: "Oui..."
So there you have it. No summer election.
Gilles Duceppe: "Oui..."
So there you have it. No summer election.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Flags
Politics can make me sick.
Not lowering the flag for every soldier's death = good thing.
Give them respect when they are alive, and you won't have to feel that there is a lack when they die.
That is all.
Not lowering the flag for every soldier's death = good thing.
Give them respect when they are alive, and you won't have to feel that there is a lack when they die.
That is all.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Myles Mansell
Well, now that makes it hit home. The first soldier that I know personally has died in Afghanistan. We went through basic training together in 1998, and worked together many times since then. I haven't seen him or talked to him in quite a while.
I konw that you will not be forgotten, Myles.
Maybe instead of immediate complaints about political decisions, war-mongering, and charges of following US policy, Canadians could stop for just one minute to appreciate life and the environment in which we live. Compare it to the life lived by the citizens of Afghanistan. And say thank you to those people who refuse to stand idly and let that continue. Personally, I say Thank you.
Keep going, boys and girls.
Here is what his Myles' family posted on his unit's website:
I konw that you will not be forgotten, Myles.
Maybe instead of immediate complaints about political decisions, war-mongering, and charges of following US policy, Canadians could stop for just one minute to appreciate life and the environment in which we live. Compare it to the life lived by the citizens of Afghanistan. And say thank you to those people who refuse to stand idly and let that continue. Personally, I say Thank you.
Keep going, boys and girls.
Here is what his Myles' family posted on his unit's website:
Bombardier Myles Stanley John Mansell was killed around 8:00pm PST Friday (April 21, 2006) while serving in Kandahar, Afghanistan.
Myles was born in Victoria on August 5, 1980 to Nancy and Alan Mansell. He has two older brothers, Michael and Matthew. He lived his entire life in the Western Communities and graduated from Belmont School in 1998.
After graduating, Myles held a variety of jobs including working for his parents in the family business, Mansell's and Ken's Environmental Services, until shortly after his parents sold the business and retired in 2003. More recently, Myles was employed by Roma Builders.
Myles joined the reserves in May 1998 and completed training in Shilo, Manitoba and Gagetown, New Brunswick. Myles had a strong belief in the work of the Reserves and the Armed Forces and felt strongly about serving his Country. The family believes this is probably not such a coincidence as Myles middle names, Stanley and John, were given to him in honour of his two grandfathers, Stanley Mansell and John Yorko. Stanley saw active duty during the Second World War and John served in the Royal Canadian Navy and both were just as passionate as Myles in serving their Country. It was this strong conviction to serve his country that led Myles to volunteer for service in Afghanastan. His family supported him in his decision to do what he loved.
Myles met Lindsay Sullivan in April, 2003 and, this past Christmas, they became engaged. They had intended to be married when Myles completed his tour of duty later this year.
In 2003, Myles participated with the Reserves in battling the Kelowna fires. This ties into Myles kind, caring and generous personality - he was always ready to lend a hand and help out in any way he could, no matter what the circumstances.
Myles is survived by his fiance, Lindsay Sullivan; his parents, Nancy and Alan Mansell; his brothers Michael (Sonja) and Matthew (Sheila); his niece, Emma; his grandmother, Shirley Yorko, his Auntie Janice & Uncle Kazi Kataoka, and cousins Emily, Midori and Marina; Uncle Mike and Auntie Leah and Chris, Luke and Theresa; Auntie Kate and Jeremy; and Auntie Dolly.
-- Mansell and Sullivan Families
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
The 80s
There is a reason why the 80s are never coming back:
No, those ridiculously tight pants don't quite manage to make it all the way down to my shoes. If you were wondering.
No, those ridiculously tight pants don't quite manage to make it all the way down to my shoes. If you were wondering.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Afghanistan 2
Well, looks like there will be a debate after all. Tonight. I hope something positive comes from this. Keep up to date on Canada in Afghanistan here.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Afghanistan
Are we really still questioning why Canadians are in Afghanistan? Why is it that we must have a debate now, instead of several years ago when the troops were sent there? Maybe most Canadians don't oppose the deployment, but going over the "Readers' comments" in the Globe and Mail is enough to drive me up the wall.
I was happy to hear Liberal Leader Bill Graham state recently that his party does not want to have a debate on the issue at this point (overruling his Health Critic's claim that they do). As for the people who claim that Canadians need to know what the troops are doing there, and open debate (and a vote, no less) in Parliament is the only way to determine if they should stay - well, frankly, you are lazy. What Canadians are doing there has been stated clearly many times by politicians, top soldiers, and the media. You could probably find it in a hundred places just on the internet. Start with the Foreign Affairs website. So inform yourself, or shut up. Seriously. Sure, we can have open discussion on the issue. Perhaps Canadians will then realize that the mission has actually been approved by the UN, that Canadians aren't traditionally just "peacekeepers," and that anyone who wants to sit at the table with the big boys has to earn a seat there. But this mission has already been committed to, and we have no right to back out now. If you still think that Canada shouldn't be in Afghanistan, that's fine. At least be informed. Maybe there will be a vote before any mission extension.
This is an excerpt from commentary on The Canadian Institue of Strategic Studies website:
Read the article here. Another, newer article can be found here and is more good reading if you wish to be informed on what your country is doing in Afghanistan.
I was happy to hear Liberal Leader Bill Graham state recently that his party does not want to have a debate on the issue at this point (overruling his Health Critic's claim that they do). As for the people who claim that Canadians need to know what the troops are doing there, and open debate (and a vote, no less) in Parliament is the only way to determine if they should stay - well, frankly, you are lazy. What Canadians are doing there has been stated clearly many times by politicians, top soldiers, and the media. You could probably find it in a hundred places just on the internet. Start with the Foreign Affairs website. So inform yourself, or shut up. Seriously. Sure, we can have open discussion on the issue. Perhaps Canadians will then realize that the mission has actually been approved by the UN, that Canadians aren't traditionally just "peacekeepers," and that anyone who wants to sit at the table with the big boys has to earn a seat there. But this mission has already been committed to, and we have no right to back out now. If you still think that Canada shouldn't be in Afghanistan, that's fine. At least be informed. Maybe there will be a vote before any mission extension.
This is an excerpt from commentary on The Canadian Institue of Strategic Studies website:
The intent of the Kandahar mission is identical to previous peacekeeping operations: to give a battered country time to recover and administer to the needs of its people. The difference is that, this time, the recovery process is being opposed by groups who wish to re-impose a medieval political order (a goal not shared by the vast majority of Afghans) and who see no problem in employing extreme violence to establish it. If they must slaughter aid workers, diplomats, as well as thousands of their countrymen and co-religionists in the process, then so it must be.
If Canadians, including Mr Layton, believe that the end – a peaceful, stable Afghanistan - is truly worthwhile, then they have little choice but to support appropriate means to achieve it. And the means must include not only the “stabilization” tasks that Canadian troops have performed for the last four years, but also more proactive operations that will keep the insurgents off balance. Why? Because the aim cannot be achieved by having Canadians standing on street corners or patrolling the perimeters of their base while those who would kill and maim are left to roam the countryside or infiltrate the cities and set off car bombs. Put simply, peacekeeping and counter-insurgency operations (a.k.a. “limited war”) are complementary. One cannot succeed without doing both simultaneously. Afghanistan is too far gone for blue berets to ride to the rescue.
To be sure, peace restoration is not solely a military matter. The rehabilitation of a war-torn country will require diplomatic, economic, social, and technical assistance. Troops simply provide a secure environment in which the other partners can do their vital work. They buy time for the host government regain its footing and take care of its people. This noble goal takes place in a dangerous environment. Minimizing the danger will require good intelligence on what mischief the insurgents are planning, and the will to physically subdue them.
Still, Mr. Layton’s stance is attractive. It is tempting, even preferable, to believe that Canada has no enemies, and that it is not our destiny to offer offence to anyone. It is equally tempting to that believe that our values – which we constantly trumpet but have not defended in earnest for two generations – will simply prevail on their own. And it is easy to be beguiled by the credit our troops have brought to this country when deployed abroad as peacekeepers. How fortunate we have been to have the luxury of embarking, for the most part, on low-risk missions where our forces adhere to a latter-day version of the Hippocratic Oath, and do no harm.
How unsettling, then, is Afghanistan, where harm must be visited upon the enemies of the very progressiveness that Mr. Layton champions back home. How unusual that a self-proclaimed “peacekeeper” has taken sides, throwing its lot in with - wait a second - a democratically-elected government battling the forces of regression. And how haunting are the exhortations of President Hamid Karzai after last week’s suicide bombings in which Canadians and Afghans died together. Like a voice from the past imploring us not to succumb to the isolation of the 1930s, the Afghan leader beseeched the outside world not to abandon his country to the extremists who wish to usher in a new dark age.
Read the article here. Another, newer article can be found here and is more good reading if you wish to be informed on what your country is doing in Afghanistan.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Coffee
Hey, just because they're flying a multi-million dollar helicopter doesn't mean they don't want to Rrrrrrroll up the rim.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Seals
Seals are cute. Seals look cuddly. This year, Canadian fishermen will be authorized by the Canadian government to kill 325000 of them.
Well that sounds like a pretty big number. Must really be something, considering how much protest there is against it. Let us do a little comparison. How about fish - I mean, they are marine animals just like seals. Well, apparently 16kg of fish are caught in one year per person in the world. That's a lot of fish. 263 million kg per day according to my rough calculation, and more than ten times that weight in other marine life is sacrificed to catch these animals. But hey, I never see them swimming around here on the prairies. Besides, they have those freaky-looking eyeballs. How about something closer to home - how many chickens are killed? 23 million every day, just in the US. That's a lot. Well, chickens are just small and ugly anyway. Besides, they aren't mammals, like seals. How about a more common mammal - cows. Oh, 90 000 cows killed everyday?
If you are against the seal hunt, that is ok with me. But if you eat meat, you should take another look at what you're protesting. An animal, whose natural predators we have endangered, being killed in its natural environment. Is that worse than the chickens and cows living their lives in pens? Or fish being hauled in and dumped on the deck of a boat by the thousands? Is it because they are cute that you oppose the hunt? This doesn't make the hunt good, but maybe there is something more worthwhile to protest. And maybe you don't even have to protest, you just have to change yourself.
Well that sounds like a pretty big number. Must really be something, considering how much protest there is against it. Let us do a little comparison. How about fish - I mean, they are marine animals just like seals. Well, apparently 16kg of fish are caught in one year per person in the world. That's a lot of fish. 263 million kg per day according to my rough calculation, and more than ten times that weight in other marine life is sacrificed to catch these animals. But hey, I never see them swimming around here on the prairies. Besides, they have those freaky-looking eyeballs. How about something closer to home - how many chickens are killed? 23 million every day, just in the US. That's a lot. Well, chickens are just small and ugly anyway. Besides, they aren't mammals, like seals. How about a more common mammal - cows. Oh, 90 000 cows killed everyday?
If you are against the seal hunt, that is ok with me. But if you eat meat, you should take another look at what you're protesting. An animal, whose natural predators we have endangered, being killed in its natural environment. Is that worse than the chickens and cows living their lives in pens? Or fish being hauled in and dumped on the deck of a boat by the thousands? Is it because they are cute that you oppose the hunt? This doesn't make the hunt good, but maybe there is something more worthwhile to protest. And maybe you don't even have to protest, you just have to change yourself.
Masked man
Dwayne Roloson finally gets a new mask. Dwayne Roloson finally plays an outstanding game. Coincidence?
YOU BE THE JUDGE.
YOU BE THE JUDGE.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
