Pub Crawling through the ghetto

I guess I forgot all about the Education Celebration Pub Crawl that took place this past Monday!!! I organized the event as a way of having a gong-show oriented send-off for all the Ed students who are scattering to various schools around BC for their practicums (myself included, of course). So the plan was to meet up at a pub near the Gorge Vale Golf club, then to head back down the Gorge toward downtown. We dressed up in white t-shirts that were gradually decorated with Sharpie pens with various levels of stupid written all over. I also rolled up my jeans to show off my sweet Canada socks that K bought for me for my b-day. There were drink specials at every stop, and when you have a group of about 25 semi-hammed University students walking down the road on a bit of an adventure, you're always going to have a good time.

About 8 of us met at the bus depot at the Uni to travel together, and met up with another 8 or 10 at the pub. After spending about half an hour there, we moved on to Stop #2, also known as my former workplace, and had a shooter or two and a beer or two before heading on to Stop #3. Stop #3 was the sketchiest place on the tour and the main competition for my former workplace. We ran into a couple of regulars from Fats who bought me a beer, and I gave the waitress shit for bailing on her shift last weekend when I was working and stranded without a waitress. I think she also bought me a drink, which made the forgetting of the incident a little easier. Stop #4 was a little more strange... strange because there were already a couple of people inside, but the door was locked when we showed up. Since we weren't in the mood to stand around and Stop #5 was waiting patiently for us up the road (and there was as a Timmy Ho's right in front of us!), we kept on truckin' and left the people who actually got IN to Stop #4 behind.

After a quick doughnut (I don't even know who bought it for me!), we arrived at #5 (which I also worked at previously) and got some more drinks. It was definitely quiet there, so after learning that one of our fellow education students was playing in a Police Cover Band downtown, off we went. I think there may have been another bus involved to get there, and we arrived in time to see Sam play. I'm not going to lie... I'm not a huge Police fan, but he did a pretty good job and their singer was pretty much a bang-on imitation.

Sam finished his set, and we decided to make one more stop. We were planning on heading to a place called Lucky Bar for 90's night, but with a lineup out to the street, we changed plans and went to a 19 year old hoochie hangout called the Boom Boom Room. It reminded me of my younger days in Lethbridge, going to a basement club there called Nexus. It wasn't much different than back home, which was kinda fun but kinda weird at the same time. I don't go out much any more, so it was fun to relive those more stupid times :)

Then I met Darth Vader. Downtown. At the "ghetto slice" 99 cent pizza joint. He tried to talk to me, but I don't speak Vader-ese, so I just sat there with a dumb grin on my face, laughing and asking him how his night was. It was pretty sweet. And just before we were going to start walking home, we found a guy from class who had been driving around for an hour trying to find us, and he gave a car-load of us a ride home.

I hit my bed after some water and some multi-vitamins and an advil, and slept like the dead until the next morning. K decided to stay at her friend's place since she didn't really want to come out and be stupid with us, which was okay. Sean stayed over and had a nap on the futon so he didn't have to drive back out to Colwood. I was a little headachey the next day, but I'm here to tell the story. It was definitely a good time.

How do you define yourself...

Is it through your location? Your job? What you do in your spare time? Who you love? What you hate?

Do you ever leave a place and wonder who you're going to be when you get to the new location? I've been wondering that over the past few days and weeks. Who am I going to be without Victoria as my backdrop? Or without the University taking up the vast majority of my time? Without being able to tell people I live "on the island"?

I think that, to a certain extent, I define myself by my surroundings. It's also as if I define myself by the people around me. Who am I without K by my side? Or without Sean to spend time with at school? Or without Sarah to keep me in check in class? Or without all those people in my life who make me smile and make me sad and have made me who I am. I wonder...

I know that a great amount of this is related to the fact that I've made a home here in Vic. And the fact that I'm leaving it for another city that I don't really know is just a little bit overwhelming. I know I'm moving on to another stage in my life.... a career and something resembling adulthood, but it's still unnerving. I'm feeling as though I found a huge part of myself out here on the coast, and now that I'm leaving, I'm not totally sure that I can just transplant that to another geographical position. Maybe it's fear... or insecurity... or just the simple fact that I really love this city. But it's uncomfortable all the same. The pictures in my apartment have been packed into boxes. So have my books. Hell, so have my shoes. And many memories. I'm leaving in 6 days and I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. It might even be apprehension about teaching... I don't have the slightest clue if I'm ready for it. This is an important career, and I think a certain amount of bravery is needed for it. Do I have it? I guess I have no choice now...

I hope students aren't like dogs and being able to smell the fear on me... if they are, I think I'm going to be in big trouble.

Maybe it's just the clouds outside my window...

- T

The end of summer school is near (random tidbits of this and that)

I only have about 2 hours of class left before I'm officially done classes at school here in Victoria. I'm still in the education program, so I don't officially get certified as a teacher and graduate with my diploma until next April or May, but I only have a couple hours of class time left before I leave the school permanently.

This summer's been a bit crazy. Between finishing my undergrad classes in April, moving to Calgary for the month of May, doing 3 months of summer school, and preparing to move my life back to the mainland, it's been a little overwhelming. I've also had the pleasure of having numerous visitors over the past couple months, and K and I have even been able to escape for a day or two here and there... not to mention working every weekend at the pub. Needless to say, I haven't had a massive amount of free time. This is starting to sound like a pity party, so I'll move on.

I was thinking the other day about one of the interesting (or wholly boring and nerdish) experiences of my teen days. I used to spend a lot of time arguing religion at an online "bulletin board", as a way of working through my own personal faith. It was a strange time, as I was at the height of my argumentative stage with my parents and I did my best to get into fights with them about the most trivial of things. But as I spent more time on the BB arguing faith and working out the major problems I saw with modern traditions in the Christian church, I came across some ideas that always made me smile. One was the Biblical story of Jacob, who was renamed "Israel", which was supposed to mean "He who wrestled with angels" after he caught a messenger angel and refused to let him leave before Jacob was blessed... they wrestled all night and finally the angel blessed him and he was renamed Israel (Gen 32.9). For a while on the board, I referred to myself as a sort of child of Jacob, and I saw my religious conflict in these terms. Later on, I encountered a man who signed off every post with a passage from Proverbs... 25:2 to be exact. Although the wording changes from translation to translation, the gist of the passage is as follows: "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out an issue". I've always loved this passage, as it seems to be representative of my relatively constant questioning of faith and religion.

Enough about these random musings... I'll leave a quote from R.W. Emerson before I go, since he's just Mr. Quotable...

"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernal of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till"
- Emerson, Essay on "Self-Reliance"

In all his convoluted wisdom, he was a bit of a self-assured optimist. I guess we can all take the advice that, at the end of the day, it's simply up to us.

- T

The meeting of deities

My job brings in a host of strange characters. Some are simply lost souls looking to drown their sorrows in a pint of lager... others are looking for just a little conversation - a touch of human contact that they may or may not be able to obtain in their day to day lives... Others simply want a casual spot to slam some shooters and chug some beer and make complete fools out of themselves... still others are simply indulging in a fun social outing. This last group is usually the easiest to serve and most enjoyable to deal with.

However, there is a whole different place for some of the other characters that come in.

So, a guy walks into the pub. I'm somewhat bored, talking baseball with one of the regulars at the bar. The guy walking in the front door has no shoes, a pair of shorts that seems to be missing the pockets, and looks like he might want to use our washroom and take off. I greet him at the door, keeping in mind the standard "No shirt, no shoes, no service" as I laugh at the fact that such a saying could possibly be true.

"How are we doing tonight?" I politely ask. He smiles and walks over.

"I'm great!" he tells me, shaking my hand. "My name's Jimmy. I just moved into the O.I. down the block."

"Nice to meet you Jimmy. It looks like you lost your shoes!"

"I know! Crazy stuff! I went to the beach and had a swim. I left my credit card and car keys and my shoes all laying on a rock while I went in. When I got back, they had disappeared! I can't even get into my car right now!"

"That's not good! Someone must've walked by and lifted them while you were in the water." I suggest.

"But there was nobody around! I was watching the beach the whole time and I didn't see a single person. It must have been a spirit that came by... took them away!" he replies.

"Uhh... huh. Weird" is all I could squeak out.

"Yep. Must'a been a god. Well I'm a god too, so it makes sense!"

Blank stare with a confused grin, from yours truly.

"Yeah," he continues, pulling out a small medallion on a leather rope around his neck, "I'm a reincarnation of Rameses III, so I'm a god too!" he explains.

Again, this is followed with a blank stare.

Then, another dishevelled individual walks through the door, also looking like he wants to use the washroom which is for paying customers only.

"Hey, I know you!" Rameses III reincarnated says to new dishevelled guy. "What's up? Where are you living these days??" he asks his friend.

"All over man... here and there" is his reply. This is never a good thing to overhear when you work in a suspiciously dodgy area of town and your boss states that you must turn away any non-customers from trying to use the bathroom.

"Can I help you?" I interrupt.

"Nope, I'm good, man. Just using the washroom."

"Actually sir, the washroom is for customers only, so I have to ask you to go somewhere else."

"Oh. Well I'm having a beer when I get out" he replies.

I can be kinda thick sometimes, but this is obviously just BS. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't let you use the facilities."

Disappointed, he continues to talk to Rameses III. Rameses says to him, "Just come over and stay with me! I got some booze at the house and some tunes going on. Interested?"

"Yeah, man. That sounds great!" he replies happily as they head for the door.

"Hey bartender! This guy is a god too!" Ramses III yells as he's walking out the door.

"Congrats!" I reply. "You two have a great night."

They leave, sketchy guy and his deity friend Rameses III/Jimmy arm in arm, like a absurdly strange story of kinship reunited.

I guess it can be true... fact is stranger than fiction. Particularly on the Gorge.

- T

Texts of old

For one of my education classes, we were required to compare two texts, one that was published before 1950, and another contemporary text for our subject areas. I chose a Canadian History text from 1946. Although there were the obvious differences of content and perspective, I found some interesting differences in writing styles. One section in particular made me laugh out loud, which I felt like I had to share... the text is called The Romance of Canada and was utilized in Canadian History classes 5-6 decades ago...

"The United States was growing like a young giant, striding across the continent. If the lost coloies could thus become a great nation, why could not the remaining colonies unite and build another? If they did not seek strength in union, could they avoid, in the end, being drawn under the expanding Stars and Stripes?"

Young giant striding across the continent?? That's just too good for words.

Another aside... one thing that people use as evidence that Canadians want to be American: a massive portion of the Canadian population lives within 150kms of the U.S. border. However, as Will Ferguson (author of Why I Hate Canadians, How To Be A Canadian, and Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw) would say, it was the combined threat of frostbite and manifest destiny that forced Canadians to reside within a small distance of the border. For any of you interested in looking at a hilarious tale of modern Canadian history and identity formation, look at Ferguson's books. He also wrote Canadian History For Dummies. Good material people... good material!

- T

The soon to be long drawn out goodbye

I'm just staring out the window of my apartment, a butterfly perched quietly on the flowers of the strawberry plant that is sitting on the weathered wood of my deck railing, as John Mayer's "Covered in Rain" is playing softly in the background of this momentary step away from reality.

I'm leaving in less than four weeks.

I've been in Victoria for three years now and have made myself a home among arbutus trees and magnolias and the pink of cherry blossoms that wake in the early days of spring. I've become exceedingly attached to the smell of salt in the air as I await the arrival of the morning bus on my way up to the University. I think about my trips down to the water to take in the ocean view. Watching the waves crash over my car as K and I listen to the sound of each other's breathing as the wind storm of the year passes through town, tearing away the soft sand from the beach and leaving behind the victims of it's fury... kelp and driftwood and maybe a bottle flung from a far away island.

I guess I always get just a little sentimental when I have to say goodbye to a place I've grown to love. To be honest, I was sad when I left Alberta three years ago, knowing that the huge piece of sky that hung over my head as a child will always be important to me. I make jokes about being from Alberta, mainly in good fun. But I always wonder if the people that have never seen the prairies could ever experience the sunsets and thunder storms and northern lights that I've been lucky enough to see.

The thought of saying goodbye has been making me nostalgic for experiences gone by. I still recall some moments with friends that make me smile.... J and I, in our first year of university, had spent the night talking and wondering just how we would be able to change the world. As I left her place that night, I walked outside and saw a sky filled with an electric lights show that only nature could provide. I called her from the nearby payphone and she met me to see the lights as well. Another moment was a camping trip in Waterton with a group of high school friends, where we laid down in the middle of an open space at the foot of the Rockies and simply watched the satellites passing overhead. Or watching the hawks fly over us as my family took our regular trip up to Calgary to visit my grandparents, racing down the highway watching the flat, golden world pass by. Or walking the streets of south Lethbridge with K late at night, in the early stages of our relationship, just enjoying the smell of oak trees. Or driving out to Beaver Mines for a camping trip and sitting by the fire just letting the sun go down over the mountains that surrounded us. Or fishing with my dad at that same lake, catching the only trout of the day when I was a kid and remembering that things couldn't really get much better.

For me, it's always the quiet moments that are worth remembering.

I see friends and family that I haven't seen in a long time, and wish that I could just take all of them from the various places they are... Lethbridge, Calgary, Edmonton, Victoria, Macoun... and transplant them to wherever I am. Obviously it's unrealistic, but I still think that the reasons for missing a place has little to do with the place, but has more to do with the people that shared that place with you. As I get older, I wonder what kind of footprints I'm going to leave behind in the places I've been. Will the tide will come in and wash my footprints away? The beach has a short memory.

On a separate note, that is definitely worth mentioning: My friend Meaghan is getting married today to her long-time beau Jared. Although I don't think she reads this page (or even knows about it), I'm wishing her all the best and thinking about her. I wish I could be there to share in it.

"I remember you... do you remember me too?"
- Stereo Fuse

Does anyone else feel that sometimes there's a soundtrack playing for certain moments in your life? I know that it feels like there's one playing for me...

- T

Sometimes you start to lose hope in the media

Okay, I guess it may be more than sometimes. And quite possibly, there's little hope to be had. But the more I watch certain events in the mass media, the more cynical I get about the state of the press. This may even be a specific bias toward American media outlets (and maybe even one in particular), but it's truly frustrating to see how blatantly ridiculous the "serious" and "hard-hitting" political TV shows can be.

Now, I'm sure that I've posted this link before, but it's appalling how arrogant certain media personalities can be, and every time I think about this interview on Canada, featuring Tucker Carlson and Ann Coulter on CNN, I nearly blow my top. Take a look for yourself...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=bFQs9sVvujE

This second set of clips are a little more recent, and NEED TO BE VIEWED! John Stewart was invited on to Crossfire (CNN) to talk politics, and what ended up happening was the most ridiculous attempt at spin justification that I'm aware of (of events within the border anyway... we're ignoring the censorship and spin justification that takes place when speaking of international politics). Again, Tucker Carlson makes me want to flip out. Please watch the clips... It's important.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=b0vYQDFAiy0&mode=related&search=
http://youtube.com/watch?v=q3WJGrqvqPM

This is his response on The Daily Show the following Monday.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6cVpOADoLg&NR

I know these appearences took place nearly 2 years ago, but I don't know many people who have actually seen these clips. So enjoy, respond, start watching John Stewart, anything.

- T

Congratulations K!!

Well, I don't think he even follows my rants here, but I just want to send out a big congrats to one of my best buddies on the planet, Kelso... K had a baby out in Saskatchewan last night. We met first year back at the U of L and we were both in eachother's wedding parties in the past 2 years... It's the first of my friends to have a bouncing baby (and a girl, for that matter), so all the best to him. I'm patiently awaiting some of the first pictures which he tried (and failed!) to send through email. For anyone here that knows K, I'll send along greetings for you. Hell, even if you don't know him, send him some love! Until again...

- T

I'm still alive... and tired

I guess it's been almost 2 weeks since I've put up a post. Part of the reason for this is the fact that I didn't have too much pressing to share (not that I do now, but I was going through some blog withdrawal). The other reason is that school has been tremendously busy. But, the recent "semester" came to a close today and I can get away with being a bump on a log for a night without having the guilt of ignoring homework over my head. However, anyone that knows me understands that I'm pretty good at ignoring the guilt and procrastinating. I've got a disease... it's called procrastinosis. And it's highly contagious, so if you have stuff to do, maybe it's better that you ignore me.

School's been a little insane, and I've really been struggling with the fact that I am quite possibly the worst time-organizer on the planet. Or, at least on the block surrounding Oak Bay junction. I had to hand in 2 unit plans, a short 1000 word paper, and 7 journal entries, as well as give a short 10 minute "mini-lesson" for my English methods class, all in the past 3 days. Rather than working ahead and getting things done ahead of schedule, I sit on my rump and wait until the last possible second to start a project. I think the most frustrating part of this is the fact that I don't even realize I'm doing it... I just wake up the day before a project and realize that, hey! I've got to hand in a 25-30 page unit plan the next day and I don't have much of anything done for it! Something has to change sometime. Maybe I can get subsidized and be able to hire a personal organizer named Ted to follow me around and get me to do work in advance rather than at 4:45 a.m. (which is what time I went to bed on Monday night).

Okay, enough of the pity party. I'm going to post a few things that, lately, have really made my day. The first is from one of my best friends from out in Saskatchewan... he sent me an email the other day with a translation site that allows you to see your name in Russia. Check it out...

http://www.callme.nm.ru/

The second one was posted on R's site as well as J's site. It's a "youtube" link featuring a clip from the John Stewart Show. It shows Ted Stevens, a somewhat infamous buffoon and Senator from Alaska who is describing "internets", or "tubes". It's pretty wonderful...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iMDRVzMfEM&search=ted%20stevens%20internets

J posted another link that showed the wonderful powers of dropping Mentos mints into Diet Coke... also wonderful...

http://www.eepybird.com/dcm1.html

Enjoy, and I'll be back again soon...

- T

They call me Mr. No Hair

It's official.

I've taken it upon myself (with the help of my adoring wife) to embrace the reality of my thinning hair and sacrifice what used to be my relatively short mop to the gods of the somewhat mighty hair clippers.

I have talked about the old buzz cut for months now. I had no choice, really. It was inevitable. The entire maternal side of my family has been victimized by male pattern baldness. And as everyone has seen, there is a male propensity to try and cover it up by the slyest of methods available. These include the following:

1) The comb forward... when the hair starts retreating from the facial area, why not brush what's left to the front?

2) The comb-over... when you're past the comb-forward, the comb-over combines the brushing techniques of all directions. This is typically the choice of 1970's LA cops, librarians, and American politicians.

3) The toupee (also known as the "rug" or "carpet")... as the nicknames might imply, this technique is usually manifested in a poor performance. Like an ugly plywood floor, one would think that coverage is a good idea. Until you realize that off-white shag is never a good idea.

4) Hair In A Can (my personal favorite)... did you ever see the Ron Popeil infomercials that challenged balding men everywhere to purchase the revolutionary cure to thinning hair? The Hair in a Can involves a 14in x 14in piece of plywood with an oval-like hole the size of the customer's head cut out of the middle. The next step is to give the canister of Hair in a Can a good shake (remember, big smiles!). The third step involves placing the plywood over the head to protect the ears, and spray said hair product over the crown to cover up all areas of oncoming baldness. The final step is to remove the plywood skull-protector from the head, use a comb to lightly fluff remaining hair/new hair to create a "real" hair finish. Dries in a mere 4 hours.

Although these options are all highly intriguing and all have immense chick-magnet elements, I have decided to bypass them all and move straight to the buzz cut. With my wife by my side (clippers in hand), I closed my eyes and she slowly shaved the shag away and left me with about 3/8ths of an inch of stubble. I think I cried... just a little. But it's done, it's over, and I have to press on. I even took the garbage out so as to rid myself of any remaining reminders of what used to be.

Do I love it? Well, not yet. K thinks I look great, and she's been immensely supportive throughout the experience. And I appreciate it, since I know it's an honest response (she's terrible at lying unless it has to do with shoes purchases). So I guess I'll face the world (and my peers) tomorrow without any regrets (and maybe with a hat, so as to prevent any potential laughter and the possibility of a skullcap sunburn). Gotta move on and leave the proverbial hair behind.

- T

A plug for a friend of a friend, and one for a website...

Since no one was too interested in my tirade from the other day, here's a couple things to look at.

First, two of my friends know a Canadian Idol contestant from, I think, Season 3, that was born and raised in Drumheller, AB. Her name is Jenn Beaupre, and has a fantastic voice. I heard her first 2 songs about 5 years ago, and her voice has matured a tonne since then. If you're interested in listening to her music and getting some free info/downloads, you can find her stuff at www.myspace.com/jennbeaupremusic Take a listen.

Second, I'm taking another cue from L.G's blog. She mentioned a website where you can type in a song name or your favorite band, and the site will create an ongoing playlist that will stream into your computer. It's like a preferential personal radio station that plays both the song/band you mentioned, and plays similar stuff that you may be interested in. If you like the song, you can give it a thumbs up and the site will play more of that kind... if you don't, give it a thumbs down and it will steer clear of it. Try it. Love it. Embrace it. www.pandora.com

That's all for now...

- T

A world of similarities...

I've been thinking a good deal lately about the differences among people, and the relationship of our identities in contrast to the identities of others. Another thing that's been on my mind (that comes and goes from time to time) is the notion of our nationalist persona in the eyes of the rest of the world. This may be a long rant, so get some coffee and make sure you have a few minutes if you plan to read ahead.

I was having a conversation with an extremely pleasant gentleman the other night at work about the Canadian opinion of Americans. He was visiting from California and was planning on taking a job here in B.C. and moving his wife and children to this wonderful island. He's been a political science professor for a number of years, and although he seems to have dabbled in a variety of other career and academic areas, he's thoroughly interested in political science and history in relationship to people and their general ideas.

During the Canada Day celebrations on the Inner Harbour, he and his family walked by a group of teens that were being somewhat-typical crass kids. Although they did not seem to be considering the man and his family in any specific manner, they made a comment about doing something to Americans, most probably because there's never a shortage of US tourists moving through Victoria in the summer. His wife became worried about the mentality of Canadians concerning our southern neighbours, and they were worried that there could be some explicit action taken against them due to their geographical identity. He posed a question to me... is this type of aggression something to worry about? And could they ever expect any sort of incident if people were to learn of their citizenship background?

I reassured him that 99.99% of what he heard was the careless talk of kids, and that I'd never heard of anything of the sort taking place specifically because a person was American. I also told him that, if asked, a good number of Canadians, both old and young, would not hesitate to offer their negative opinions on Americans and American politics if asked, especially in this area of the country. There's no need to point out the obvious fact that Bush isn't generally seen as a popular guy these days (or for most days passed either). However, I was concerned that a careless, idiotic comment like the one coming from these punks could be manifested as a serious threat to visiting Americans.

We discussed briefly the nature of separating the politics from the people. I know for a fact that some people are going to say that in a democratic society, the politics ARE the people. But on a more realistic note, this isn't exactly the case. Let's remember that more people voted for Kerry than Bush numbers-wise, but due to the setup of the US electoral program, Bush won. Not once, but twice. Like it or not (understand it, or don't), it's a fact of life. We must also remember that the majority of voting-age citizens in the US also didn't cast ballots, so the idea that Bush IS the American identity made manifest is misleading. And let's get right to the point... stereotypes get us nowhere.

The fact of the matter is... Canadians (myself included for a long time) build their national identity in a sort of anti-mimetic fashion. Canadians are all the best of what America is, but more importantly, is made up of what America isn't. We have this generalized notion of who we are in the global environment, but we pride ourselves on the fact that what we are is exactly what Americans are not. We villify America and claim our virtue in comparison. Canadians are open-minded. Americans are close-minded imbeciles. Canada is multi-cultural. America is a melting-pot. Canadians are polite, humble, simple folk. Americans are crass, ignorant, and self-involved. The world loves Canadians. The world hates Americans.

First and foremost, let's get rid of these fairytales. These are very misleading and are altogether ridiculous stereotypes. Canadians see themselves as hyper-important in the global eye. The fact is that Canada, in the eyes of most people worldwide, is just another part of North America, and the accents and politics are indecipherable from Americans. For others, we don't even register as an independent nation. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I don't think so. We're a nation of just over 30 million people. Sure, geographically speaking we're the second biggest political landscape in the world, but our population is minute comparatively. Do people learn about Canada? Not really, unless they're teaching a Canadian curriculum at the school in which the students are educated. Canada's only been a recognizable nation for about 140 years. I understand that the first settlers came centuries before the BNA act, and that the First Nations have inhabited the landscape long before Europeans ever came, but as far as global politics in concerned, we're the new kids on the block. Are Canadians really that open-minded? I've been working service jobs for 9 years now and I could provide a lot of evidence to the contrary. Are Americans the close-minded folk we assume they are? I've met a couple that are. But I've met just as many Canadians that are. And I've met countless pleasant, good-natured Americans... moreso than the ones that may seem to give a bad name to the whole country. The problem is the fact that we focus on these characteristics.

A guy from school, K, mentioned that most people in any sort of tourist destination have seen an ignorant southern tourist berate the people waiting on them at a store/restaurant for any number of reasons. We immediately associate this bad behaviour with being American, the give-away being the fact that they have American Flag t-shirts on and speak with a southern drawl. The vast majority of us are quick to forget that when a local clown acts in the same absurd manner, we omit the nationality in question. We don't see a neighbour of ours and say "stupid Canadian" if he's acting like a buffoon. If he does something stupid and he has license plates on his car from Ontario, then we say "stupid easterners" or something similar, but we'd never resort to "stupid Canuck" or another such label. We're all guilty of it. And if you don't think you are, then I either give you cudos or suggest you tune into the channel of Get Real. The latter will be the more likely response.

Are we multi-cultural? Sure, but this has also been one of the complex factors of establishing an identity. We can't forget about the Quebec separation movement that still exists in pockets of the province. Hell, the Separation Party of Alberta even has supporters. What happened to this idea that Canada was a united nation of like-minded individuals? Like I was saying, there's a lot of evidence to point out this absurdity. We establish ourselves as Quebecois, or Albertan, or Torontonians. Every facet has it's labels. Many people in Alberta seriously think that BC is full of hippies and Ontario's full of crooks, and that the east coast is a bunch of fun-loving Celtic drunks who speak in an undecipherable dialect. Ask the people from the east coast what they think of Albertans and the Alberta-centric worldview comes seriously into question. Live in someone's house, meet someone outside of your socio-economic background, and you'll see that things aren't that much different on the other side of the fence.

I guess the point of this little tirade is simply to point out the truth behind the cliche that everyone has differences, both good and bad. The Canadian track record in international affairs is questionable at best, and we must remember that we have our fair share of overt problems, personally and nationally. We must also remember that distinguishing such traits for a group of people within a country or bordered landscape does little to talk about the individual people that we encounter every day. Let's keep our differences... hell, lets embrace them. But at the end of the day, recall the fact that the same red blood runs through our veins. If we can't do that, we're sunk no matter what we do. And get rid of the chip that resides so influentially on our shoulders... it can get so big that it blocks the peripheral view of the rest of the world that we forget to look around for.

- T

Psychology degrees and bartenders

The world of the service industry is a constant foray into sociological observation. I've been working service jobs for about nine years now, and I still meet people who surprise me, who intrigue me, disappoint me, and impress me. I guess it's the nature of man to fulfill every possible segment of what we consider to be society. Darwin did say that it is through variation that we grow, change, and evolve. The problem is that I sometimes wonder how far we've come...

Last night is what got me thinking about this whole curiosity...

Although the cliche is extremely old, working as a bartender for a certain amount of time should contribute toward practicum time either as a post-degree sociology program, or for a psychology degree. Last night, I had the pleasure of encountering a mother and daughter who were in the middle of some family issues that really shouldn't make it into a public place. The 40ish daughter was arguing with her mother (who was celebrating her 60th birthday, nonetheless), and upon checking on the two ladies who were both extremely emotional, I learned that, supposedly, the mother had spent a lifetime beating the daughter and was likely going to do so again that night. I also learned that the daughter was dealing with other issues related to the fact that she had just been released from jail and her children had been taken away from her in the process. Far too much information to bring to the guy slinging drinks behind the bar.

At the other end of the spectrum, I had a couple in from California that were enjoying a few late-night beverages. Fantastic couple... pleasant, decent tippers just out for a good time. The unfortunate thing was, they encountered the aforementioned daughter who had stumbled into them and began to unload every imaginable social disfunction she had encountered on this lovely vacationing couple. I had a cab coming for the daughter so as to prevent any encounters with this nice couple or any other patrons, but unfortunately, the cab couldn't come quickly enough. The mother had already left in a cab 15 minutes prior. This is the point where the people from the show Intervention should show up and take control of the situation. No luck with that though. Luckily, A (the wife from the couple) led the daughter to the front door and waited for the cab with her... she'd been a nurse for the past 15 years, and had a rare nurturing spirit and didn't mind the interruption. I didn't know how to deal with the woman beyond hustling her out the door, so I was relieved that A stepped in to help. After many apologies and words of thanks, I discounted a couple drinks from their bill so the experience wasn't a total bust, and got to chat with the two for the last 20 minutes before they retired for the night. I left work that night thinking that maybe the whole of humanity wasn't on a fast track to the shitter, which is the impression I sometimes receive after dealing with crack addicts, hustlers, and bitter drunks who threaten me with cue-balls (which just happened just 2 weeks ago).

People wonder if I'm going to miss the service industry... I don't really think I will, but I still don't think that I'll be able to stop working with people. No matter how much they may seem to disappoint you, there's always people to curb the pessimistic/cynical tendancies that come along with the job description.... there may even be more people who turn up the spirits than bring them down. It's just funny that we can always find negative things to focus on, when there's a world of good folk out there just trying to make the day livable, and maybe even enjoyable...

- T

Vacations and hot days and beach time, oh my!

I'd never had the chance to experience the loveliness that is going "up island". That's what the locals call the short trips to Qualicum Beach and Nanaimo and Campbell River and other such places of intrigue and adventure. However, this "up island" experience has officially been had. K and I headed up to Qualicum Beach last Friday for a single night of relaxation at a B&B, courtesy of the S, the best man at my wedding, and his lovely girlfriend D. We've had the gift certificate for almost a year and finally had a chance to use it, so we hopped in the Hyundai with our poor man's A/C (windows rolled down and feet hanging out the window) and made the 2 hour drive north to one of the most berautiful places in the world.

The town was beautiful, and although it took us far too long to get onto the right highway (due to our terrible, hand-drawn map without directions), we enjoyed the evening. We had dinner on the patio of a cute little pub on the water, enjoyed some drinks as the summer sun faded into the northwest sky, and walked along the beach to get some ice cream.

I guess there's no need to point out the fact that I like ice cream. The one in my left hand is, in reality, K's. At least, that's the story I'm sticking to.

After working the rest of the weekend, I also had the pleasure of heading to Thetis Lake as well. A couple friends from school saved a piece of beach for us, and after K got off early from work, we hit the road again with out hot hot hot hot car and did some sunbathing. I needed extra-dark sunglasses so the glare off my chest didn't blind me. And although my SPF 1,000,000 protected me from the suns evil death rays, I'm still a lovely shade of clear between my elboys and my knees. Everyone that's seen me knows that I can compete for nicest farmer tan in town.

I'll leave a couple more pictures on here, but I don't have too much exciting to say for today... it's been glorious here on the West Coast the past few days, so lets hope the weather continues...

Far too funny...

I really have to post these "excerpts" that I found through the staff homepage for the school I'll be interning at in September. There isn't too much information about where they come from, beyond the initial disclaimer. I couldn't help but share them. Enjoy, and I hope these put a smile on everyone's face. I can't even pick a favorite

- T

"These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the country. Here are last year's student winners.....

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighbourhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her. Like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look - the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up. "

Ever-evolving job description

I've been working in the service industry for the past, oh, 9 years. The one thing that I've noticed is that the longer I'm in the industry, the more my job descriptions tend to evolve. I think my bartending job at the pub has evolved to include the following:

Job description: Bartender in a blue-collar sports bar

Must be able to mix drinks, serve customers, and work on a cash till in a pleasant and efficient manner. As supervisor on duty, you must also take on the role as security guard, hostage negotiator, crowd control tough-guy, babysitter for inedbriate-disabled adults who pour drinks over themselves, throw tantrums and think that threatening you with a cue ball is a good idea. Must be able to separate a 250lb drunk and a 210 pound clinically insane man who thinks that they imaginary rifle in his hand is actually shooting a quiet group of men he believes are undercover mounties who are out to arrest him and put him in solitary confinement. You must also smile through all of this and pretend that dealing with aggressive hammered people is your favorite thing in the world. You love to tell grandmothers that they've had too much to drink and they should get the hell out of your bar.... forever. You must also tell the sons of NHL players that they are complete buffoons and they should never step foot past the front door. And smile. When you refuse to listen to their slobbering, slurring stories about how they're not as completely imbecilic as they are acting, smile. Welcome to your new job.

I guess there's no sense in really going on about the fact that I had an absolutely ridiculous night at work, and that in 2 months, when I'm pretty much officially done with the booze industry, that I'm not going to miss it all that much. Luckily for me, I'm pretty good at smiling.

- T

My life isn't really that interesting...

It's definitely been a couple weeks since the last posting. I was starting to have a fear that this blog would disappear into the world of the blogger graveyard... you know, those sites that drift off into the oblivion of the worldwide web. Never to be updated again.

I'm actually stealing the idea from some close friends that will likely take credit for it when they leave their next comment. But thanks, J, for helping me get up the gumption to keep on keeping on. It was more of a case that I simply haven't had any time in the past few weeks, but a touch of it was related to laziness and the thought that I didn't have anything interesting to post. Not that I do now, but I figure I'll give it a go.

First off... gotta repeat the joke from the rear cover of "Eats, shoots and leaves".

"A panda walks into a cafe. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and fires two shots in the air.
'Why?' asks the confused waiter, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.
'I'm a panda,' he says at the door. 'Look it up.'
The waiter turns to the relevent entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation.
'Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.'
So, punctuation reall does matter, even if it is only occasionally a matter of life and death."

My wife and my mom both thought the joke was lame. I guess it is lame. Still, I love it. It's much more funny for me, the self-professed bookworm who is probably going to go ahead and read the entire book in his spare time (which is simply a highly conversational manual on punctuation and the lack of punctuation in western society). Sounds fun to me! What!? This isn't appealing to everyone?? :)

Hmmm...

Following in the footsteps of L's post from a few days back... things that you may not know about me...
- I'm a sap. A big messy sap.
- I like being a geek. Some people don't see me as a geek... until they spend some time with me.
- I hate to exercise. Being active is fine, but doing exercise for the sake of doing exercise is about as exciting as a kick in the teeth. I may be skinny, but I should probably weigh about 250lbs.
- If I have to do something, I usually like to do it myself. I think this might be because I'm just a bit of a control freak. Or slightly OCD. Not too sure about that one.
- I always think that the Sudan is part of the middle east. I'm not sure why, but I always think of Saudi Arabia and other M.E. countries. Why? Not really sure.
- I love listening to music in other languages. And I don't listen to nearly enough of it.
- I always write off the Lottery as a bunch of hooey... even though I secretly hope I win every time I buy a ticket. I don't buy them often, but I really think that in the back of my mind, providence will shine down and cut me a cheque for, oh, I don't know... a couple million bucks.
- I'm a snob... I think that my values are somehow superior to the values that strangers hold, and that people who drink cheap beer aren't nearly as classy as me. Even though I've been known to down a Pilsner or a Lucky Lager from time to time.

Okay, enough for now... I'll try to get more clever in a couple days. But for now, adios...

- T

Sundays that feel like anything but...

It's official... no more time on the prairies for this guy. After what seemed like an extremely fast trip back to the motherland for work (and a good excuse to visit the family), I made a pit-stop in the Okanagan for my student-teacher orientation for the fall, and was back here last night, only to return to the lovely land of work until 4am. Je suis tres fatiguee.

After getting back home after the drive/ferry trip, it seemed like everything had changed. Of course, the place was pretty much exactly as I left it. The ocean was still in it's proper place surrounding the rock, the roads seemed as if they were holding tight to the ground underneath, and the elderly drivers moving at 10km/h below the posted speed limit were still immediately in front of me. Even home was the same (only more clean, since I hadn't been around to make a mess for almost a month). And all I wanted to do last night was to curl up and watch a crappy movie and go to bed, but unfortunately it seems as if I'm the busiest when I want a nap the most. I have to do some school-related stuff today, I work tonight, my cousin from Austria is coming into town tomorrow until Friday, I start classes on Thursday, and then work again next Saturday/Sunday. I think by next week, I might be ready for a vacation. Ironically enough, I thought that's kindof what the last month was supposed to be.

Until another day where I'm a touch more exciting...

Just another quarter-life somethingorother

My mid-twenties catch me in a world between full adulthood, and a feeling like I'm far passed my youth. Seeing teenagers around me makes me feel old, but after mentioning my wife to a homeowner who's house I was helping paint, she thought I didn't look old enough to be allowed to have a wife. My 4 grey hairs tell a different story, as does the hairline that is slowly retreating from my face.

I've also started to realize that I'm quickly becoming the guy who talks about the bands of the "good old days", when the Foo Fighters were simply a dream of Dave Grohl's, as he was still fairly new on the alternative rock scene as drummer for Nirvana. The new syth-fused emo-rock that can be found extensively around the music scene has replaced my angst-ridden bands like Live, Creed and Pearl Jam. Every time I hear an Everclear tune on the radio, I bob my head to the beat, and sing my heart out when Collective Soul finds it's way into my ears.

The ironic thing is that I harass all the people 10 years older than me who still embrace AC/DC and Poison as heroes of rock and metal, who think Axle Rose is better than any mere mortal.

I know I've talked about this previously, but it still travels through my thoughts. Am I going to be the guy who rants on about his youth to his kids or his kids' friends, thinking that the better days are gone and it's all downhill from here? When did kids in their mid-twenties become so disillusioned about the world that there's actually something referred to as a quarter-life crisis??? It can't be that bad.

-T

I'm sheltered

I'm a minority. Okay, maybe I'm not right now, or even 99% of the time. But on Friday, I was a bit of a minority.

I guess I should contextualize this a bit more. I come from a pretty homogeneous area of the world, culturally speaking: Southern Alberta. Living in Lethbridge my entire life, I was secluded in a number of senses. I guess you could say that Lethbridge isn't exactly a hotbed of cultural diversity. In other words, it's a more or less suburban, Christian, middle-class town with little else beyond the wide open prairies and a sea of Conservative voters for miles around. The Alberta separation party still exists. It's true.

So, on Thursday I was at a new jobsite meeting a franchisee I hadn't met before. "A", the new manager, greeted me and introduced me to his crew of 5 guys. All of them were from different cultural backgrounds, but all were good buddies who went to school together. A was born in Malaysia, two of the guys on his crew were of East Indian descent, one guy's parents were Iranian, another was born in China, and another was from the Phillipines (if I'm not mistaken, that is). The day before that, I was working with two guys on another crew, and one was from Indonesia and the other was from Iran. A girl I worked with yesterday was born and raised in Columbia. And I was a little astounded. I found it to be pretty interesting that in the period of about 2 weeks, I'd met more people from more diverse backgrounds than I had in 3 full years in Victoria, and pretty much the rest of my life in Lethbridge. And I loved it. It was one of the moments that I was somewhat proud of my education... I actually knew a touch about where each of the people were from (or where their parents were from).

And all the while, even though I know that there's no fundamental difference between any of us and we were all generally raised in the prairies, it was fascinating that Canada can carry on in a fashion that seems to be conducive to such an experiment. Alexis de Tocqueville, in his mid-19th century book Democracy in America, talked about the great democratic experiment of the United States. I think he would be completely fascinated as well if he were alive in 2006 to see where the great North American experiment had come to. This is not to say that there isn't a great deal of intolerance and problems among different cultural groups (or between white and non-white more generally), but it just made me realize that the world around me is a lot more diverse than I could ever imagine. The travel bug is awaiting another indulgence. Europe was the trip of a lifetime 4 years ago... but who says that we have to be satisfied with only one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences?

-T