Monday, July 14, 2003
Famous People Players meets the Matrix? It'll all make sense when you watch the video. It's too good not to share.
Thanks to Cacomixl for the link.
NOTE: I've fixed this link. Go have a look now.
Thanks to Cacomixl for the link.
NOTE: I've fixed this link. Go have a look now.
Sunday, July 13, 2003
We came home from the family picnic to discover we'd had a bit of bad luck. A windstorm had come up and caught the umbrella of our new deck furniture and pulled the table over, smashing the glass-top table it was inserted into and leaving little kernels of glass and pieces of the table frame all over the deck.
Although it was a bummer to come home to this, I guess I'd prefer my bad luck to manifest itself in small doses.
Although it was a bummer to come home to this, I guess I'd prefer my bad luck to manifest itself in small doses.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Family reunions are not only a chance to visit long lost leaves on the family tree; they are also a good benchmark of how far way you've branched. I spent the day at a gathering of relatives from my maternal side of the tree. To call it a reunion is a stretch (as the missus keeps reminding me) - it's held every year. The tradition started long before I was born. It was a gathering of my maternal grandfather's siblings, of which there were eleven. Back in the sixties, they would get together for a camping weekend, hold a cribbage tournament, drink too much, play a round of golf, have a campfire and give out goofy prizes and jokingly insult each other, having a generally good time. With the passage of time and most of the brothers and sisters, it has morphed into this annual gathering of the cousins.
The duties of hosting the event are passed around, too. It has become an Alberta thing, held somewhere in the southern half of my home province (thank goodness). Prior to the event, making your way there (never mind organizing it) seems very onerous and obligatory. Once I find myself at the event, I end up relaxing and just hanging out, letting my kids run free with the others there.
Every year I find myself at a total loss for names, although I vaguely recall asking the face in front of me for their name last time we saw each other, too. Faces that seem most familiar are ones that haven't changed much since my childhood, when we would go for a whole weekend, not the half day it now occupies. The bratty boy cousins and the decidedly cute girl cousins (and the homely ones, too) have all grown to their full size, had a few kids, put on some weight and begun to droop into middle age. Some of their life stories read like bad daytime soap operas: failed marriages, brushes with drug or alchohol abuse, children out of wedlock, bad luck with illness or careers, ... all these details are passed on quietly between family members, out of earshot of the affected party. These shortcomings or afflictions are somehow accepted when we get together, because we are family and family is about supporting and accepting who each of the members are. It's strange that we can do that with people we see once every few years, but somehow, we can and we do.
The duties of hosting the event are passed around, too. It has become an Alberta thing, held somewhere in the southern half of my home province (thank goodness). Prior to the event, making your way there (never mind organizing it) seems very onerous and obligatory. Once I find myself at the event, I end up relaxing and just hanging out, letting my kids run free with the others there.
Every year I find myself at a total loss for names, although I vaguely recall asking the face in front of me for their name last time we saw each other, too. Faces that seem most familiar are ones that haven't changed much since my childhood, when we would go for a whole weekend, not the half day it now occupies. The bratty boy cousins and the decidedly cute girl cousins (and the homely ones, too) have all grown to their full size, had a few kids, put on some weight and begun to droop into middle age. Some of their life stories read like bad daytime soap operas: failed marriages, brushes with drug or alchohol abuse, children out of wedlock, bad luck with illness or careers, ... all these details are passed on quietly between family members, out of earshot of the affected party. These shortcomings or afflictions are somehow accepted when we get together, because we are family and family is about supporting and accepting who each of the members are. It's strange that we can do that with people we see once every few years, but somehow, we can and we do.
Thursday, July 10, 2003
For some native Calgarians, loathing the Stampede is just what they do. It's easy to hate, as it is a ten-day-long drunken party that clogs our city with tourists, litters offices and buildings with fake western paraphernalia, causes otherwise sane people to dress in ill-fitting pseudo western wear and go begging for breakfast in mile-long free pancake lineups. And don't even get me started on all the crummy country music that seems to permiate every open space downtown. I've even been known to poopoo the whole, "pretend to be a cowboy" thing.
So what did I do today? I took most of the day off to take my family down to the Stampede grounds ... and I don't regret doing it. It was something that the kids looked forward to ever since I mentioned to them that we might go. There's a lot of things that do rub me the wrong way about attending the midway and exhibition:
I tell you, I wasn't looking forward to the day at all. Then I realized that my attitude could end up bringing the whole group of us down. I thought back to my own experiences, when my parents took me to Edmonton's local fair and all I remember was having a great time. I decided that Banana and McMonk would probably have the same experience and I had the choice of (mentally) fighting against being there, or resolve myself to the fact that yes, I was going to be there all day and yes, I was gong to part with more cash than I wanted to. Once I came to grip with those to unavoidable facts, my zen-like self took over and I was able to enjoy the afternoon and evening.
We went into rides like the House of Mirrors that I've been through dozens of times (or so it seemed) before; I bought just about any type of snack that the girls were interested in (cotton candy, hot dogs, corn dogs, fries and gravy, popcorn, mini donuts, fudge); we were educated in what slutty teenage girls wear these days (and believe me, there was thousands of rounded, little pot bellies hanging over low-rider jeans at the fairgrounds); them we did the goofy rides like the Mark I roller coaster and the Giant Swings; we waited in line (and chatted) for 30 minutes at a time; we took in the surprisingly-entertaining SuperDogs show; we saw some crowd surfing at the Coca-Cola stage; we stayed late, freezing in our shorts and light jackets, to watch the daily finale of fireworks as it lit up the sky and echoed through the fairgrounds; we took the train home with the thousands of others who stayed right until the end of the show.
We are all exhausted - the girls were asleep (not just in bed) within 10 minutes of being home. That included a stop in the bathroom to brush their teeth. I asked McMonk what kind of a day she had, and she responded that it was a "fun" day, she clarified by telling me it was a really, extra-fun day.
That's what I needed to hear. I'm sure that ten years from now, she'll only remember two things - that she spent a whole day at the Stampede when she was nine, and that it was an extra-fun day.
So what did I do today? I took most of the day off to take my family down to the Stampede grounds ... and I don't regret doing it. It was something that the kids looked forward to ever since I mentioned to them that we might go. There's a lot of things that do rub me the wrong way about attending the midway and exhibition:
- the horrendous cost of admission and the midway rides themselves
- the mass of people with little respect for your personal space
- the lowlifes that seem to ooze out of nowhere to hang out at the fair grounds
- the nutritionless, overpriced food they serve
- the half-hour waits for a 3 or 4 minute ride that is questionably entertaining
- the con artists and scammers in the crowds (we were approached three times by one guy, begging for money because he was supposedly deaf and mute)
- the constant pressure to spend, spend, consume, then spend some more
I tell you, I wasn't looking forward to the day at all. Then I realized that my attitude could end up bringing the whole group of us down. I thought back to my own experiences, when my parents took me to Edmonton's local fair and all I remember was having a great time. I decided that Banana and McMonk would probably have the same experience and I had the choice of (mentally) fighting against being there, or resolve myself to the fact that yes, I was going to be there all day and yes, I was gong to part with more cash than I wanted to. Once I came to grip with those to unavoidable facts, my zen-like self took over and I was able to enjoy the afternoon and evening.
We went into rides like the House of Mirrors that I've been through dozens of times (or so it seemed) before; I bought just about any type of snack that the girls were interested in (cotton candy, hot dogs, corn dogs, fries and gravy, popcorn, mini donuts, fudge); we were educated in what slutty teenage girls wear these days (and believe me, there was thousands of rounded, little pot bellies hanging over low-rider jeans at the fairgrounds); them we did the goofy rides like the Mark I roller coaster and the Giant Swings; we waited in line (and chatted) for 30 minutes at a time; we took in the surprisingly-entertaining SuperDogs show; we saw some crowd surfing at the Coca-Cola stage; we stayed late, freezing in our shorts and light jackets, to watch the daily finale of fireworks as it lit up the sky and echoed through the fairgrounds; we took the train home with the thousands of others who stayed right until the end of the show.
We are all exhausted - the girls were asleep (not just in bed) within 10 minutes of being home. That included a stop in the bathroom to brush their teeth. I asked McMonk what kind of a day she had, and she responded that it was a "fun" day, she clarified by telling me it was a really, extra-fun day.
That's what I needed to hear. I'm sure that ten years from now, she'll only remember two things - that she spent a whole day at the Stampede when she was nine, and that it was an extra-fun day.
Saturday, July 05, 2003
Here's what I'd do:
- start by sleeping for a whole day
- watch daytime TV and order pizza in for lunch (I feel so opulent when I do that) for two days
- take another two days and hang out at a big bookstore, browsing through all the books I'd been to cheap or embarrassed to buy
- tune up my bike
- go to an early matinee then sneak into another show after the one I paid for was over. I'd do that as many times in one day as I could.
- lure my training buddies out for some bike and pool time
- take a week and hang out at the hostels along Highway 93
- buzz over to the UK and look up some old friends
- buy a nice touring bike and zip around southern Ireland for two weeks in the summertime
- shave my head to see what it looked like
- put an underground sprinkler system in around my house
- update the template I use for this blog
- learn to play at least ten new songs reasonably well on the guitar, then go busking for a day or two
- go to a skydive camp in Arizona and spend a week jumping every day, concentrating on Relative Work
- head for a warm beach where I could work on my sandcastle-making skills
- go to Vegas and finally see that Blue Man show
- take a day and test drive vehicles
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
I thought we were nuts.
Last week, we were at a last-day-of-school gathering for Banana and McMonk. We were talking to one of the other parents that lived on our street and lamenting the fact that none of the kids spontaneously went out to play. We all remembered (correctly or not) from our youth that we went out to play after dinner, usually giving our parents no idea where we were going and with whom we were playing. We agreed that we tended to coddle our children, overprotecting them from the "scary" world the media had brought to our attention.
We also bemoaned the fact that we knew few of our neighbors because, well, we just didn't do things as a community any more. It was, "lessons here" and "practice there", constantly driving away from the community that we had all wanted to be in so much.
"Somebody really should organize a block party. Canada Day is coming up. Wouldn't it be great to, say, block off the alleyway and have everyone get together for a BBQ or something?" says the other parent.
Yeah, I thought to myself. We really should do that.
So, that evening (about a week ago), Jenn and I went home created a poster with the details of a Canada Day Block Party, to be hosted in my back yard. We said it was a bring-your-own-thing-to-BBQ, bring-your-own-chair, bring-a-dessert-or-salad affair. The party was to start at 4:30 pm and go until dark. We hand delivered the poster to 18 houses in the neighborhood and then went home, self-satisfied with the fact that we had done our part for community building. In the morning, Jenn and I asked each other, "What have we done?" We had invited the WHOLE neighborhood over - new families, single people, senior citizens, elementary- and teen-aged kids, ... a pretty diverse group. How were we going to entertain these people?
Well, we didn't have any replies yet. Maybe, everyone would be out of town and no one would come.
Wrong.
We got replies from 16 of the 18 families, and one reply from the neighbor of the farthest-away person we invited asking (very sheepishly) if she and her family could crash the party. We said yes.
We kept track of who and how many were coming, then two days prior, we began to prepare. Prepare and fret. Did we have enough pop for the kids AND for mix? Would there be enough room on the BBQs (we had two)? Would the kids get bored? Could we keep the party interesting for the widely age-diverse group? We bought napkins, paper plates, soft drinks and propane. We set up some background music on a portable stereo, hauled out all the fun kidstuff we had (hammock, swing chair, sidewalk chalk, scooters, soccer ball and other stuff), borrowed a BBQ and set out a few extra tables. A garbage can and recycle bin for cans were set out, then we were ready.
------------------
Now that it's all over, I can say that the party was a resounding success. Everyone brought lots of extra salads and desserts. The kids do what kids do when they are in a large group - they took care of themselves. The big ones looked after the little ones instinctively and everyone got along well enough. People found others of interest to talk to and everyone mingled nicely. The BBQ's were turned on an hour after the party started and everyone took turns cooking their own family's dinner. We got to meet many neighbors from up that street that had been there as long as we had, but had never made the effort (or had the effort made towards them) to meet. We got to see their kids play with our kids and be absolutely no trouble. We got to see some of the patriarchs of the neighborhood look on approvingly as we took on the role of community leaders.
It felt very nice. I'd encourage you, next summer holiday (maybe the August holiday?) to take the initiative and throw together a party.
And don't forget to invite me.
Last week, we were at a last-day-of-school gathering for Banana and McMonk. We were talking to one of the other parents that lived on our street and lamenting the fact that none of the kids spontaneously went out to play. We all remembered (correctly or not) from our youth that we went out to play after dinner, usually giving our parents no idea where we were going and with whom we were playing. We agreed that we tended to coddle our children, overprotecting them from the "scary" world the media had brought to our attention.
We also bemoaned the fact that we knew few of our neighbors because, well, we just didn't do things as a community any more. It was, "lessons here" and "practice there", constantly driving away from the community that we had all wanted to be in so much.
"Somebody really should organize a block party. Canada Day is coming up. Wouldn't it be great to, say, block off the alleyway and have everyone get together for a BBQ or something?" says the other parent.
Yeah, I thought to myself. We really should do that.
So, that evening (about a week ago), Jenn and I went home created a poster with the details of a Canada Day Block Party, to be hosted in my back yard. We said it was a bring-your-own-thing-to-BBQ, bring-your-own-chair, bring-a-dessert-or-salad affair. The party was to start at 4:30 pm and go until dark. We hand delivered the poster to 18 houses in the neighborhood and then went home, self-satisfied with the fact that we had done our part for community building. In the morning, Jenn and I asked each other, "What have we done?" We had invited the WHOLE neighborhood over - new families, single people, senior citizens, elementary- and teen-aged kids, ... a pretty diverse group. How were we going to entertain these people?
Well, we didn't have any replies yet. Maybe, everyone would be out of town and no one would come.
Wrong.
We got replies from 16 of the 18 families, and one reply from the neighbor of the farthest-away person we invited asking (very sheepishly) if she and her family could crash the party. We said yes.
We kept track of who and how many were coming, then two days prior, we began to prepare. Prepare and fret. Did we have enough pop for the kids AND for mix? Would there be enough room on the BBQs (we had two)? Would the kids get bored? Could we keep the party interesting for the widely age-diverse group? We bought napkins, paper plates, soft drinks and propane. We set up some background music on a portable stereo, hauled out all the fun kidstuff we had (hammock, swing chair, sidewalk chalk, scooters, soccer ball and other stuff), borrowed a BBQ and set out a few extra tables. A garbage can and recycle bin for cans were set out, then we were ready.
------------------
Now that it's all over, I can say that the party was a resounding success. Everyone brought lots of extra salads and desserts. The kids do what kids do when they are in a large group - they took care of themselves. The big ones looked after the little ones instinctively and everyone got along well enough. People found others of interest to talk to and everyone mingled nicely. The BBQ's were turned on an hour after the party started and everyone took turns cooking their own family's dinner. We got to meet many neighbors from up that street that had been there as long as we had, but had never made the effort (or had the effort made towards them) to meet. We got to see their kids play with our kids and be absolutely no trouble. We got to see some of the patriarchs of the neighborhood look on approvingly as we took on the role of community leaders.
It felt very nice. I'd encourage you, next summer holiday (maybe the August holiday?) to take the initiative and throw together a party.
And don't forget to invite me.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
Everyone has given some thought to the classic fantasy, "What would you do if you were given a million dollars?" I have a different twist on this.
Imagine that you have just been given a gift of one hundred days. During this time, you can do anything you want, with the emphasis being on DO. You have no relationship, family, work or day-to-day responsibilities to worry about. Everything has been taken care of for you. No laundry, no shopping, no food preparation, no job, no helping your significant other, ... nothing.
By the way, all the money you have for this one hundred days of freedom is $20,000 (Canadian). What would you do with your time?
Think carefully, then use the comments link (anonymously if you want) on this post to let me know.
Imagine that you have just been given a gift of one hundred days. During this time, you can do anything you want, with the emphasis being on DO. You have no relationship, family, work or day-to-day responsibilities to worry about. Everything has been taken care of for you. No laundry, no shopping, no food preparation, no job, no helping your significant other, ... nothing.
By the way, all the money you have for this one hundred days of freedom is $20,000 (Canadian). What would you do with your time?
Think carefully, then use the comments link (anonymously if you want) on this post to let me know.
Monday, June 30, 2003
Sunday, June 29, 2003
Hostelling is a total blast. The laid-back attitude softens your step as you walk down the gravel pathway towards the cabins, then permeates the soles of your feet and envelops your whole body. You just can't help but feel relaxed and sociable once you get there. We stayed at Rampart's Creek Hostel, located at the foot of a mountain and right alongside (you guessed it) Ramaprt's Creek. The only electricity is supplied by solar panels and a generator that runs *maybe* once a day. The 'fridge is propane run, as are the lights in the dorms and common room/kitchen. There is very little to do but wind down from whatever you were doing before you got there.
The creek is freezing cold (it's just a kilometre or so from the glacier-fed lake where it originates) but works nicely to cool you down when you come out of the wood-fired sauna. Banana and McMonk and I had a great time. There was even a hostel cat that allowed itself to be picked up and carried around by McMonk. Being from a dog lover's household, that poor kid is just starved for cat time.
The creek is freezing cold (it's just a kilometre or so from the glacier-fed lake where it originates) but works nicely to cool you down when you come out of the wood-fired sauna. Banana and McMonk and I had a great time. There was even a hostel cat that allowed itself to be picked up and carried around by McMonk. Being from a dog lover's household, that poor kid is just starved for cat time.
Friday, June 27, 2003
The kids and I are off to a hostel for the weekend. Cooking s'mores, a campfire, hiking and playing in the creek.
Whoo hoo!
Whoo hoo!
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Today is the last day of school for Banana and McMonk. Both of their teachers were very pleased, as were the missus and I. At the risk of sounding like a boastful parent, them kids are clever.
We celebrated by having dinner at McDonalds and taking in a lawnchair theatre at Bowness Park. Instead of a play, it was a cheesy children's singer and a half-baked magician. It was nice to sit and sing campfire songs with the kids (doing the actions, too) but I think they need some entertainment with a bit more fibre.
How about the Calgary Folk Fest?
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
Wow. Iomega recently came out with a 750 meg ZIP drive and cartridge. That's about the same as a writeable CD, at only 80 to 90 times the cost for the media (ZIP cartridge vs. blank CD).
Nice try, guys. You're just 13 years too late.
Nice try, guys. You're just 13 years too late.
Sunday, June 22, 2003
The first reading of the new J.K. Rowling book took place this evening. Fifteen pages read aloud, seven hundren and fifty-one to go.
Pass the throat lozenges.
Pass the throat lozenges.
Well, the weird dreams are back. Nightmares, you might even call them. This last one happens in the dark of night. My present neighbor, the Serial Talker, and my dad (who is, in the dream, living on the other side of me) are trying to stop some addition that I am building on my house. They are quoting some obscure law that prevents me from completing what I have already built. I am being ordered to tear down the addition, but I refuse to. I feel myself being overwhelmed by a sense of dread for not following their wishes.
Next, I am traveling in an old-fashioned (circa 1920's) subway car, with wooden seats, brass handrails and poles, and a general feel of good upkeep, as the car travels down a flooded subway tunnel. The driver's compartment is open and an aged Danny Glover is piloting the car. He seems manically happy and is singing some sort of Baptist-revival type song. I'm concerned that he is driving at an unsafe speed and is endangering us (there are suddenly more people aboard the train), but he totally ignores any attempt to communicate with him about this concern. I know he can hear me as I have physical contact with him and can get responses to other questions. I just can't get him to slow down or drive rationally.
Then the dog woke me up to be let out for a pee.
Next, I am traveling in an old-fashioned (circa 1920's) subway car, with wooden seats, brass handrails and poles, and a general feel of good upkeep, as the car travels down a flooded subway tunnel. The driver's compartment is open and an aged Danny Glover is piloting the car. He seems manically happy and is singing some sort of Baptist-revival type song. I'm concerned that he is driving at an unsafe speed and is endangering us (there are suddenly more people aboard the train), but he totally ignores any attempt to communicate with him about this concern. I know he can hear me as I have physical contact with him and can get responses to other questions. I just can't get him to slow down or drive rationally.
Then the dog woke me up to be let out for a pee.
Friday, June 20, 2003
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Track cycling, you say?
Monday nights at 6:30 pm and Saturday mornings at 9:30 am?
All outdoors, at a reasonable price, including track bike rental?
Convieniently timed as to not interrupt the family schedule?
What could be better?
New cycling shoes, you say?
Monday nights at 6:30 pm and Saturday mornings at 9:30 am?
All outdoors, at a reasonable price, including track bike rental?
Convieniently timed as to not interrupt the family schedule?
What could be better?
New cycling shoes, you say?
