Not quite Seattle

In previous posts, we referenced a nerdgasm of sorts: Battlestar Galactica and Mass Effect together at last. A TV show we enjoy and a video game we're looking forward to. The only hitch... to participate we need to get to Auburn, Washington, just a half hour south of Seattle.

Road trip, anyone?

The special showing was on Monday, November 12... that involved taking a day off on Tuesday to drive home. We would have left on the Saturday, but we had tickets to another geek-fest, Video Games Live, which was brilliant and we couldn't miss it since we'd bought tickets more than six months prior.

So we (Natalie, Daorcey, Vanessa and Tony) left at 6am Sunday morning for a 14 hour drive through BC to hop the USA-Canada border in Abbotsford. It was a fun trip that involved visiting Tony's dad in near Salmon Arm and listening to too many hobo names courtesy of John Hodgman.

Snow, mountain roads and Tony's had enough of us already.

Coming up on the new mountain pass near Golden. It's pretty amazing.

Crossing the border was a little interesting. I've never driven across the border before, so I was a little nervous. When the American border agent asked me what we were planning to do, my response was that we were driving to Auburn from Calgary to watch a made-for-TV movie two weeks before it's release date... on tv. Not only did he look a little incredulously at us, he responded with "you know, that's a pretty lame excuse to be coming to the United States."

What do you say to that? I mean, it's not like his statement was incorrect.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," I responded. And then he let us through. I guess people wouldn't make up such a sad reason to cross the border.

The hotel was nice (as nice as can be when you're being cheap and making four people share two beds... I may have kneed Tony in the back) and we spent all of Monday shopping at a sad mall (the largest in the northwestern United States... meh) and waiting in line for the EVENT.

The mall had a seating area with giant bacon! Natalie was excited.

And this is where I rant: I won't complain about the trip... the road trip was nice, the company was good and no one was seriously injured. But as far as the "Battlestar Event" went, it was a non-event. Granted, they probably didn't intend for giant geeks like us to drive down from Calgary, but someone at Microsoft or SciFi or whoever was in charge could have tried a bit harder.

We started lining up (front of the line, baby!) to register our attendance at 3:30pm. At 5pm, we were registered and moved to another line where we would stay until 6:30pm. The theatre employees had no idea what was going on and even had an argument with the single (!) event coordinator (a contractor who wasn't keen to let me know who was paying the bills... fine, do your job) over where to put the lineup of 100+ people (most who made me feel rather young... didn't expect that, but I guess I'm not the only target market for BSG). Tony left us in the line while he went to go watch another movie for free... there was nothing else to do anyway.

When we were eventually let into the theatre, we sat watching the same 2-minute music and logo loop over and over again until the movie started. And the fanfare? Well, there was none. The event manager (not joined by two assistants who didn't seem to know what was going on either) told us to enjoy the movie and then let the movie role. It was rather underwhelming.

Now, I don't think I had unreasonable expectations. I mean, a fairly significant tv show and an equally significant video game (see the Globe and Mail review) are having a co-sponsored event. Maybe there'll be a special preview, maybe some swag, maybe a special message from the creators of either product... something... anything. But, no. Instead we are treated in a way that feels a lot like "watch your stupid geek movie, enjoy the uncomfortable companionship of other sad fan bois and grls, here's a series of ads you can see on TV... sucker".

And we even made special t-shirts.

Vanessa's t-shirt design

I'm still glad we did it. It was a fun, spontaneous trip that involved some cross-border shopping with good company and a bit of geekiness thrown in. And the drive (when it was light out) was pretty nice.

Here we are at a gorge/dam in east Washington... I'm sure it has a name... Natalie's not in any of our shots.

Here's the gorge in panoramic view. Click for large image.

I might still write a letter to someone at Microsoft recommending they try a little harder next time they host and event to promote a new game, music machine, etc. How Canadian, eh?

And I will make an effort to NEVER drive through Montanan mountain passes in the dark and snow again.

Back in Blogland

Hey, remember me? I'm the guy who use to write stories about random stuff like poo ponds and embarrassing client meetings.

I've been away for a while. Not like out-of-the-city away, more like too-tired-to-care away. Since September, it seems like we've gone out of our way to ignore the blog. It's as if just yesterday Natalie went to Sudbury. Well, a couple of things have happened to keep us away:

a) It's like I've never really worked before now. I've been at the new job for just over six months and I've been getting busier and busier. Don't tell my old boss, but I'm pretty sure I was a total slacker at the old job now that I know what I can do when a bunch of projects are hurled my way. It only promises to get busier in the near future with fewer coworkers and lot more work. Trust me, I'm less interested in popping on the computer in the evening to blog away when I've been writing all day at work.

b) I was thinking that maybe I've had a less interesting life in the past while, but that's not really true. A spontaneous weekend to Auburn WA, a heating system that is currently locked on to be permanently 27 degrees, new shoes that I promise to never wear outside... there are stories to tell... I just need to get to them...

c) Oh, did I mention our new addition to the family? Following Natalie's triumphant return from the east, we promptly ran to the local electronics story and purchased and Xbox 360. Bioshock, Gears of War, Halo 3, Orange Box... if we have free time, we've been spending it with ol' Boxy.

Which brings me to why I'm back in blogland: Mass Effect.

Dang you, Arone, for helping to make a game so cool that Natalie and I plan to devote much of our waking lives to it over the next few months! Boxy's going to get a workout with this one.

The problem with this new game is that we're both excited about it, but it's only a single player role playing game. With a plot line that promises to be oh-so-cool, we can't bare to be spoiled on it by watching the other person play. So, I've graciously let Natalie have the first crack at the 50+ hour game while I hide out trying my best to not be spoiled on the story. That means, I have to avert my eyes as I walk through the living room and generally keep hidden while Natalie's making her way through a brave new world.

The best way to keep my head down? Hide in the office with the computer (the "second bedroom" space we affectionately call The Kids' Room).

And that's how I've come to be on the blog reinvesting in my online presence (Facebook doesn't count... I can't be bothered enough to make it work). There are stories to tell, and for the next month, Boxy is Natalie's buddy and effectively dead to me. Maybe I'll let you in on why we went down to the states... maybe I'll tell you why I have the window open beside me right now even though there's a touch of snow on the ground...

Maybe I'll finally play Knights of the Old Republic II, even thought it's decidedly an awful sequel to another brilliant Bioware game.

I'm back. Fire up Radio 3 and let's surf the net as though I'm single and trolling for human contact.

Nerdgasm Update

So we're going.

Yeah, that's right, we spontaneously decided to drive to Seattle to catch the below-mentioned geekfest. As Battlestar Galactica and Mass Effect collide, we simply couldn't miss out. The tickets are booked, new tires are on the car and we're making plans for the ultimate geek roadtrip with Vanessa and Tony in the car with us.

Wow.

Photos (and maybe explanations for why we've been so silent on the blog) will follow next week.

Huzzah!

Nerdgasm alert

Kotaku puts it best:

Some smart brilliant Nobel Prize candidate PR expert came up with what may be the cause of the biggest geekgasm in the history of the world.

Using Battlestar Galactica to promote Mass Effect? Brilliant!

However, thanks to Daorcey's Christmas party in November I'll be forced to spend less time with those wonderful nerdy things. This party better have unicorns, a chocolate fountain, penguins, cupcakes, and many bacon-wrapped food items.

When giant mooses attack

Of all the giant roadside attractions my dad would stop at, it appears moose was a common demoninator.


Outside of Moose Jaw is Mac. His hooves are much less leprosy-y.

I think the next large moose we saw was in Kenora ON. After Mac, it wasn't very impressive. But it could have been the flat Saskatchewan landscape that made Mac so large.

However, it appears Kenora also specializes in creepy mooses (meeses?) This was one of three creepy moosi. I called him Heroin Moose.

And last, while not a moose, it was a Giant Pooh.

Situated in White River, ON is a statue commemorating its contribution to the Canadian Pooh mythology. Apparently Winnie was sold into bear bondage here. Oddly, the plaque holds a Disney copyright.

Brent Butt doesn't do bodywork

The last "exciting" stop on our drive home was the set of Corner Gas. About 30 minutes outside of Regina, Rouleau houses the gas station, Ruby's Cafe, and the police station.

However a deer decided that it could compete with a speeding car and ran into our left headlight. Needless to say the deer was dead. My parents when talking with the RCMP believed that maybe it was still alive. Trust me; it wasn't. So here's the damage. It's hard to judge by this photo but the driver's door made an awful creak when it was opened.

The deer lost a bit of hair.

We bravely carried on to the set. I'm not a watcher of the show but here are some photos that I hope capture the essence of the show. My sister told me that people often routinely stop to get gas because it looks like a gas station. Indeed many of the props like the gas pumps were from a Husky.

I don't think the grain elevator was stolen but most likely repurposed.

Oooh, inside. We could look behind the counter and there were some very odd comics.

1.5 reasons to visit Thunder Bay

Reason 1: The Terry Fox memorial.

On the way out of town to Sudbury, we drove past the Terry Fox memorial. As you can tell, it was pretty damn early but it made for a nice atmosphere. Driving from Thunder Bay to Sudbury, I couldn't imagine Fox running up and down those hills, with huge semi trucks whizzing by. If you're interested in learning more I suggest picking up Douglas Coupland's Terry. Fox's statue faces west, in case you wondering.

Reason 0.5: The Persian
Thunder Bay has its own unique pastry: the Persian. I remember reading a Fast Forward article where someone mentioned it and it made sense to try to find it. However, the store Persian Man (where one gets the legit Persian) was going to be closed while we were there. So I resorted to the Safeway version. I have to say my parents were pretty good about driving around town to basically sample a glorified donut.

It seems unfair to judge a pastry on its lesser form but it was tasty. I did not discover what flavour the icing was.


More trip updates will come. I'm organizing them by theme rather than day because no one wants me to detail 14-hour car trips.

Brandon, Manitoba

The trip to Brandon was uneventful. We did stop by Mac the Moose in Regina, the city whose name rhymes with fun, and took some snaps. But other than that, Saskatchewan lives up to its stereotype.

Tomorrow we will stop in Thunder Bay. On the way we'll stop to take a gander at the Terry Fox memorial.

I wish this was more exciting. Maybe I'll make up a story.

Note: To water Daorcey just make sure he has his hand in a bucket of water at all times. Don't listen to him if he complains about pruney hands or needing a second hand. Otherwise, he'll just shrivel up.

Onwards east! To Sudbury!

Saturday marks Day 1 of my journey with my family sans Daorcey to Sudbury. There may or may not be updates from the road depending on Internet tube availability.

And why are we going to Sudbury? While going to university, my dad took a couple of summer jobs as a nickel miner. He wants to check out how things have changed in 40-odd years.

Those of you in Calgary, make sure Daorcey is fed, watered, and has a clean supply of underwear.

The insubordinate igloo

Facts relevant to this story:

1. My company finally finished building their new expansion enough for my department to move to the second floor.
2. Instead of an open-concept plan like a newspaper's bullpen, we are now in a cube farm with 6-foot high walls.
3. There is a constant cool breeze from somewhere unknown that makes it very cold in my cube. Of my four cubemates, three of us are always wearing a jacket. A thermometer may indicate it is 19C but coupled with a 9 km/h breeze, it makes for very cold 8-hour days. There are some days where I am wearing a fleece jacket and a shell. I can feel a constant wind on my head and my notes wave in the gentle breeze.

The new cube layout made it difficult for anyone to find anyone else. In the old space, if you needed to find someone you looked around. Even a month later, everyone is still a little unsure where everyone else sits. To remedy this problem,people started labelling their cubes. We put up a sign that said "Welcome to the Igloo Quad" and then all our names. Cute, harmless, and utterly lacking in Comic Sans. In other words, typical cube humour.

This sign has been up for a month, drawing very little attention to itself. Other quads have put up post-it notes and the electrical engineers put up a sign titled "Lightning Lane" and call out to Nikola Tesla.

This week, my co-worker was called into an engineering director's office told to take down our sign. He didn't have a problem with it but he was told some on our floor found it "insubordinate" and "insulting". We're all a little dumbfounded.

And now, no one can find us because our sign is gone. We'll probably have a hard time finding something that is non-threatening.

I was thinking a unicorn but someone might find its horn too pointy.

Go away! Reading book.

One of the things I enjoy about my job is that I can get there by C-Train. There is no driving in traffic, no idling in traffic, and no needing to pay attention in traffic. Instead: train arrives, I sit down, and book comes out, and then 20 minutes later I'm at work, to my surprise. I've only missed my stop once and only noticed because I thought "That's funny, I don't remember a Wal-Mart at my stop."

However, my reading routine has become disrupted by a couple of co-workers. One fellow I only run into occasionally and don't mind talking to. The other, I'm not sure what to do about. It's not that he is a horrible conversationalist or uninteresting, it's that he reads also. There are very few people who read during lunch in our department, so his lunchtime habit definitely stands out.

So the next time we're waiting for the train, do I broach that subject? It's seems rude to ask someone to stop the conversation because I'd rather read, but it also seems rude to prevent someone from returning to an awesome book.

The Poo Pond

Since we haven't posted in a couple of weeks, here's a story for you. It is possible that you have heard this one before. Two years ago I wrote it down to enter it into a true story competition on the Vinyl Cafe. I guess it didn't win. Maybe poo ain't CBC friendly.

In the spring, rural central Alberta is covered with small bodies of water. Ditches and sloughs filled with winter runoff, frozen on top with chilled water of some unknowable depth beneath—a 12-year-old boy’s rubber boot heaven.

Much to my mother’s dismay, my friend Brad and I would spend days dressed in our toques, mittens, spring jackets and our trusty rubber boots jumping on the thin ice of these small ponds. With our boots up to our knees, we felt invincible, yet we always seemed to end up walking home soaked to our thighs and shocked that our beloved boots had become repositories for ditch water. Like the stern priest in Roch Carrier’s “The Hockey Sweater,” mom would always thrust her finger in my direction telling me to the outside stoop to drain my boots-cum-buckets and take off my waterlogged sweat socks.

Some of my city friends don’t realize that, in the country, each home has its own sewage field. Normally, it is an underground drainage area some distance from home. After a while it sometimes collapses or fills up and a new field must be made in some different spot, and this can be a significant expense. That may be one reason why, instead of an underground field, Brad’s family had their sewage drain above ground into a slough next to the horse pasture far from their house. It was a nasty bit of water filled with human waste from a small family, some horse waste and a large volume of winter runoff to dilute it all.

This particular spring of my grade six year, Brad, his younger brother and myself noticed that the ice of the sewage pond had melted all around the edges of the slough effectively creating a large iceberg. Of course, this was a rubber boot opportunity not to be missed.

Since the sheet of ice was about a metre from the shore in its closest spot, we used a long two-by-six board as a plank for the three of us to walk safely to the iceberg. Once on, we realized that the ice was much thicker than expected. It easily hold three jumping elementary children. So we jumped and kicked and played chicken to see who could go closest to the edge without turning back for fear of falling off and drowning in raw sewage.

What made this particular pond great was the realization that it was not simply runoff; it was not just a safe ditch by the side of the road. We knew the water was foul and we honestly did not know the depth of the slough. In the back of our minds, we knew that the water could be deep enough to cover our heads. But, you have to remember that we were 12-years-old and invincible in our rubber boots.

Until we jumped one to many times.

Suddenly, all we heard was moving crack, crack, crack, crack from all directions. The iceberg was breaking and we needed to get off or horrible, terrible things would happen. The three of us were frozen in the positions where we had last jumped. The cracking had stopped, but we’d been in this situation before. When cracking stops, ice begins to give away from under you.

In retrospect, I’m unsure why we decided to move the lightest off first. At our direction, Brad’s brother lightly sprinted off the ice, onto the plank and to the shore with no problem. As I was the largest, Brad was next. With his back to the plank he awkwardly spun in the air, jumping in the direction of the board. With the force of his boot hitting the board, the plank broke through the edge of the iceberg as Brad raced to the shore with only a light spray of the putrid water on his pants.

Now I was left alone. Stranded on an iceberg with a distinct yellow-brown hue dotted with pockets of frozen horse turd. My body was tense, ready to spring to the board and run for my life to safety.

But the wind picked up.

What had earlier been a light breeze was now a solid force pushing against me and the iceberg, moving us further from the shore and the plank. I knew then that I was in real trouble. I was floating on an ice bed above all manner of foul waste that could be infinitely deep and equally disgusting. I was going to die in a pond of poo.

Fortunately, Brad had a plan. He ran up the hill toward his house. Five minutes later, he emerged with his parents. His mother stood on the back deck in a jacket over a housecoat in her slippers, looking the way mothers do in situations where they are not as concerned as they are disgusted with their children. His father ran out, camera in hand, capturing the moment. Brad’s first plan had failed, as far as I was concerned.

But his second plan seemed more promising. He ran to the nearby shed to get a rope, and in true cowboy fashion, he made a lasso. After a couple of throws that only landed in the water before me, he finally chucked the lasso at my feet and directed me to put it around my waist.

Trusting, but not understanding him, I did and he proceeded to pull the rope.

As my pelvis jerked forward and my feet began to slip, I screamed at him to stop. His plan to pull myself and the iceberg to the shore was noble, but misguided. And so we ended up standing there, linked by a heavy, stinking rope, staring at each other, not knowing what to do. Then Brad had Plan C.

“You remember learning about polar bears in class?” Brad called to me.

I did. And while I only remembered that I thought the bears appeared less menacing than we were told, Brad reminded me that polar bears uniquely distribute their immense weight on the thinner sections of northern ice so that they don’t fall through when hunting for seals. He told me to do the same. If I were to get on the ice on all fours, I would somehow last longer on this particular thin ice. Possibly, I could last long enough for the wind to push me to the other side of the slough.

And so I did just that. I dropped to my knees and put my mittens on the ice before me.

And that’s when the ice gave way.

I immediately slammed my mouth shut, adamant that should I ever die, it would not be by drowning in raw sewage. My feet had fallen through first and I was pleasantly surprised to realize that they hit solid ground before my head could go under the water. Brad began to pull on the rope as I brought my arms down on the ice in front of me. I had made a donut of the iceberg and now had to break my way through to open water and the shore.

I remember that the only piece of salvageable clothing on me was the mesh Blue Jays cap that I had once bought for 99 cents. My jean jacket was effectively ruined, or at least Mom would never wash it with other clothing.

I also remember the exchange I had with my dad on the phone half an hour later.

“Dad? Can you come pick me up from Brad’s?”

“No. It’s only a five minute walk!”

“But I’m naked in Brad’s living room and I smell like poo.”

“Oh…I’ll be right there.”

Visiting a WWI German cemetery

We're reading Harry Potter. Here's a post we've pre-written to fill the space while we disappear into a children's book. Yeah... that's right. This also demonstrates that we have a few more posts left in us from our trip to France/Belgium... watch for them.
As insensitive as it sounds, Commonwealth cemeteries look the same. They're meant to. So when our tour guide mentioned there was a German graveyard in the area as other Canadian cemeteries, Daorcey and I basically pestered her to see it. I'm not joking. I think every day one of us asked.

I"m glad we stopped to see the cemetery. The "winners" of a war are meant to forget that millions of the "losers" died during war time too. In fact, many of those remain buried in the land on which they gave their lives.

Allied grave sites are almost common in western Europe and we saw a number of them during our tour. It was interesting to know that Allied countries are leased land in France (and in other countries, I assume) for free. Axis forces, in particular Germany, are required to pay for their leased land if they wish to maintain a cemetery abroad.

So we visited a German WWI cemetery while in Belgium.

The mass grave in that dominates the cemetery is a mass grave of 20,000-40,000 soldiers. There aren't headstones either since the ground is too unstable to support them. Instead flat stone markers line the fields. The oak tree and leaf are important symbols for the German people and so oak plays an important role throughout the cemetery. In fact, the entrance archway is completely paneled in oak with thousands of names of (unknown?) soldiers engraved. We were sure to a photo of the few Wagners (the Le Bray family name on the paternal side).

This was a humbling experience. I think too often we casually forget about the other young men and women who died during the World Wars and other conflicts. Maybe it would be be too morally challenging to remember that whole generations were destroyed not just for us, but for them. Either way, we were glad to visit a site that doesn't get too much traffic from Canadian student groups. I hope it had a similar impact on the kids who came with us.

Insert Harry Potter cliche here

It's two days before the last book comes out and I have to stop looking at the Internet.

With news of the photos of the book leaked online, followed by the fact crazy fans were transcribing the book from the photos (nevermind some of the photos required Photoshop to become legible), it was inevitable spoilers would fly about. (Notice I stopped short of inserting a Quidditch cliche there. Come up with your own.)

Daorcey came home with the news the New York Times already printed a review and the Toronto Star, in all its classiness, printed who died.

So it's very hard to stay away from spoilers especially when previous experiences have taught me that being spoiled beforehand does not pay off.

What? All the slayers-in-waiting get activated? Wuh? Tigh's a Cylon?

Here's hoping Friday slips by and Saturday arrives with a letter carrier holding the last book with my name on it.

Introducing my new sister (in law)

I've neglected to blog about a very important event in my life: my little brother's wedding.

On a rainy day in central Alberta, Arone and Kristi were married in the backyard of my childhood home. I had decidedly little to do despite being Best Man and Ring bearer (I also received a Frodo action figure for my role). Mostly, I just joined with the 18 others there in celebrating a marriage of two people very much in love. Highlights:

• A beautiful ceremony in the pouring rain
• A bonfire and marshmallows once the rain cleared after the reception
  
• Big hugs for my old brother and new sister
  
• The tasteful Lord of the Rings theme
  
• Sushi!
• Wii!

Photos:

The cake

Cutting the cake with a tiny sword

The kids playing Wii

The Parents and the Kids

Best game you can name...

On a whim, I joined a floor hockey team. The captain of the team, Cliff, heads up our document control department. No doubt that description of him conjures up an image, of well, a document control guy. But he's nice and puts up quite well with others' dismissal of document control as boring.

But Cliff is Wayne Gretzky on the ice. He scored three goals out of five. I didn't do as well but did not score on our net a la Steve Smith. Other members of our team include our company's VP of Operations, the goalie, and a product manager.

We won our first game but it's going to be a long season and we have to take it one game at a time. But if we give it a 110 % effort and stay consistent, we can be really successful.

Lack of shame? Check.

Famous for all the wrong reasons.

Once again, I'm back in the media. Unlike a simple quote "If I could wear metal shorts comfortably, I would." I'm interviewed (briefly) on CBC Radio 3's R3-30 top 30 podcast.

If you download this week's podcast (permalink to blog post with my picture), you will hear me chatting up my recommended song: Joel Plaskett's Fashionable People. You'll also hear me talking about how I might just eat Hello Kitty. And if you're lucky, you'll hear me yell LET FREEDOOOOMMM SPINNNNNN!

Would I have done the interview differently now that I know it's recorded forever more as a verifiable gong show? Probably not. I think gong show was what I was going for. I hope you enjoy it.

And the photo: that's from the Gauntlet archives--an easy find if you type my name online and look for a photo of me. Craig and Pedro thought it was funny and asked if they could use it in the blog post. So there you have it. Thanks to Anna Chan, Nicole Kobie and Adam Berti for putting that original photo together. Although, I'm not so sure that's the photo of me that I want roaming around online for the rest of my career. Just ask Stephen Harper what he thinks about that issue...

Oh, yeah, and when my slide whistle comes in the mail, I'll take a picture and put that online. For being the booby prize, I'm totally stoked for it. And all this time, I thought it didn't exist.

Stampede - Calgary's Halloween

Threadless.com t-shirt

Much has been said about the Calgary Stampede. Yeah, it's the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth. More importantly, it's Calgary's Halloween--a 10-day period where Calgarians and tourists celebrate the signifier over the signified. It's a period of cowboy hats and belt buckles, not about history and western lifestyles. And that doesn't really bother me... I just wanted you to know.

Natalie and I were out at the mall today and I found myself looking for a "western style" shirt that I could wear at work. I got something, so my coworkers can rest assured that I will be wearing more than one shirt with my two pairs of jeans over the next 10 day. Mmm, the sweet smell of Stampede.

It's interesting that the Calgary Stampede has created a strong culture of expectation. "Tradition" dictates that every building in the downtown area must have cartoon cowboys and bulls on its front windows. Everybody must wear their jean skirts and earthy shirts. No suits allowed. Belt buckles and bolo ties are encourages. And cowboy boots? Wearing yours means you have enough money to buy a $100-500 pair of boots that you wear for 10 days a year.

Stampede time is known for its pancake breakfasts and barbecues. You're either hosting one of attending many. Most of the time it's both. I can't dis them because their great marketing and communication opportunities and maybe I should be happy that they're all contained neatly over a two-week period. Politicians, of course, know this and so they flock to Calgary in early July to host their own event and be seen flipping flapjacks for the common man. You'll see more Liberals in Calgary during Stampede than any other time of the year. That's becoming the same for Conservatives, but I guess that's a function of having power and comfortably assuming your support base won't be going anywhere while you bend over backwards for Eastern constituencies that you previously didn't know existed...

But it ain't good enough to just flip a burger or two and shake hands with the unwashed masses--you have to look the part. And so in steps the fashion and PR consultants to help someone who has never "worn western" to look the part. Your Ontario-based Fisheries minister needs to appear as though she just walked off the ranch because, hey, that's part of what Stampede is all about. If you're going to the Halloween party, you'd better bring a costume or you're going to look like a dork.

But then again, you can also look like a dork if you don't have the right advise. Let's ask Stephen Harper for his thoughts:


You must have seen that photo before. I mean, it's associated with nearly every single article about the man since it was taken 2 years ago. OK, that's a hyperbole, but we honestly do see it more than we should. There's a PR lesson in here, but I'll leave that for discussion.

So Stampede comes around and the office uniform is imposed: jeans, etc. Not bad, I guess. Jeans are comfortable. But it's the etcetera that becomes a problem. Hence the shopping on the weekend for a western style shirt. But on Friday, I didn't have a western style shirt, so I compiled the best western outfit I could find:







Dork? Yes, I'll admit to that. But I'm proud to have brought Halloween and Stampede that much closer together.








UPDATE: Check out this article about Stampede tyranny in the office that appeared in Monday's Glove and Mail.

Dinner at the Burger Inn

"Hi there, what can I get for you?"

"Oh, uh, my wife will have the elk burger and I..."

I find making decisions about food difficult. The fact is, I'd like to try it all. Yes, given the opportunity, I'll have everything on the menu. Unfortunately, one rarely gets that opportunity and so I have to make a decision. It's stressful and it can become only more stressful with people standing behind you.

I've been known to walk into a Starbucks, get in line, take a look at the menu board and leave. Not because I didn't like what I saw, but because I felt like I was the only one in line who didn't know exactly what I wanted. All I knew was that I wanted a sweet tasting coffee. Not good enough. Time to retreat.

But, back to the Burger Inn on 4th street, I was fortunate that the vegetarian options are sparse, thus making dinner decisions easier. I like this. Still, I also like to know exactly what my options were. The wild salmon burger seemed pretty well explained but not exactly what I felt like having, so I needed a bit more info on the item identified with parentheses as "meatless".

"What's your Golden Harvest burger all about?"

"That's a veggie burger."

"Great. And you Superior Golden Harvest burger?"

"That's a veggie burger with bacon."

"I should have guessed that."

It's nice when decisions are made for you.

Pretty cunning: The Sequel

The reason Mary started making a Jayne hat (that's the name of the toque in the previous post, although if you don't know the origin of it, the name doesn't help) was that I wanted an awesome Christmas present for my sister. However, she made me one too and when I pulled my hat on, I knew I couldn't deny my sister the Jayne hat for six months.

So I just put it in a box, covered it with some shredded paper and got my mom to write the note with the same text as the note that Jayne's mom wrote.

And this is what ensued.

The hat in its straw-filled box. Mmm, shredded bills.

The hat has landed!

I think Mary made someone's day

My mom looks pretty cute in this hat. Notice the matching shirt.

Not afraid of anything.

Pretty cunning, don'tchya think?

Etiquette states you shouldn't brag about the birthday gifts you received, but sometimes they are just too awesome. Not to say the other gifts were less awesome, in fact I quite like them all.

But...

Mary made me a hat.

This hat can be described by the following quotes:

Pretty cunning, don'tchya think?

Man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything.

So meticulous was Mary, that she even did screenshots to determine the correct number of dangly string bits on the ear.

Here is the masterpiece:

Check out that hot pom-pom action.

Thanks Mary!

The CBC sausage

Did you know CBC has an official blog for its English operations? Well, now you do and you should check up Inside the CBC. The head "blogger" is Tod Maffin, known by some as the man who ran a very popular site during the CBC lockout.

Typical tidbits include bits on retiring anchors/reporters, odd things about the CBC building (behold the Toronto Hallway of Awkwarness), the fact that CBC employees undewent sensitivity training, and tours of CBC buildings.

And I like the reason CBC put up this blog.

I think they listened to the many employees who said communication could be more direct. And the public, I always felt, wanted the CBC to have more of a human tone. We’re not a big faceless corporation, we’re a creative group of cool people and maybe this will help showcase some of what they do and what you’re doing too.

Another reason to like them: LOLCBCats.

The not-so silent koala

One of the things that's keep from going insane is the CBC Radio 3 podcast hosted by Grant Lawrence. He can be annoying but he knows his indie Canadian music.

Lawrence also has great stories which he told to the Hour.

One involves a not-so silent koala. The other is an airplane toilet. The airplane one is almost as good as one of Daorcey's story.

Won't somebody think of the gamers?

Besides the typical reasons for having babies, I have come up with another in order to convince Daorcey that we should begin procreation.

We'll run out of the games we like.

I came across this article, where basically the author thinks this Wii trend is bad for hardcore gamers. Since gimmicky, cheap-to-make games like Cooking Mama and Wii Play for casual gamers are such hits and video game companies are after the money, we can only look forward to more of the same. A game like Grand Theft Auto or Halo cost millions to make and there are few (in comparison to the casual gamers) hardcore gamers. So games with intricate storylines and "out there" graphics will become fewer and farther between. A company can make a ton of gimmicky, mini-game based Wii games for the price of one high-budget game and not have to worry as much about making the money back. So much more shake your Wii around and much less Mass Effect.

This is bad as Daorcey and I like our GTA/Mass Effect/God of War games which are considered "hardcore."

However, demographics are in our favour. Most of the casual gamers are older people and as older people tend to do, they die. I hate to say it, but it's true. They are not all like Old Grandma Hard Core, mashing buttons on Okami and God of War 2. When I'm 70, I hope to be like her.

As well they've missed the window where they can imprint their video game habits on their offspring. But us hardcore gamers are just gearing up to spawn. And this is where it's crucial to continue the cycle of hardcore games: we must teach our children to like what we like. Otherwise we'll lose them to the easy seductive wave of a Wii. We'll watch in horror as they jump up and down like automotons trying to flip a sausage or grate a cell phone. We'll try in vain to introduce them to the bliss of shooting off an alien's head with a chainsaw gun or race the police with a wanted rating of five stars.

But it will be all for naught unless hardcore gamers, like me and Daorcey, start having babies and starting them on Baby's first FPS.

Agrarian Revolt!

Some things I had to share:

-Chances are you've seen LOLcats. Those cats captioned with Impact with a thick black stroke. I think I've found my favourite. It's like a nerd sandwich.


-I think I will never join Facebook. Even though my HSLM, my husband, and countless other friends are on it, I'm never, ever signing up. Related to that, CBC thinks they've found the next hot thing to engage Canada's politically apathetic youth: starting a group on Facebook. It's Canada's Wishlist and it's asking people for their fondest wishes and CBC will broadcast it on Canada Day. The top groups according to the Globe article? Abolish abortion, more religion, keep abortion, and lower tuition. Clearly the kooks and SU kids are on Facebook. Besides the sheer lunacy of this contest, I was caught by a quote in the article.

The service has made such inroads among Canadians that a young person who isn't on Facebook is, more likely than not, a deliberate holdout, besieged like a peasant refusing to convert to a newly declared state religion. To them, this must seem a final insult: Join Facebook, or Shelagh Rogers will never hear your wish!

That's me, a besiged peasant, holding out for an agrarian revolt.

-Miss Vicki's chips seem to have a new flavour: Vintage Cheddar and Red Onion. Every time I see a package, I think back to that time at the Gauntlet where we had free samples of Onion and Cheese Pringles. At first it was great since it was free chips and I had an empty stomach. But by around the second week, it was horrid. You would be hungry and cheap, thus you would rip open a new container. By the second chip you'd realize what a mistake it was. Ugh.

-Last, I've just finished a book that combines a) dragons and b) Napoleonic war. No wait, come back it's not that ludicrous. Okay, it might be but it's well written and a pretty awesome concept. I don't want to spoil the last quarter of the book, but let's just say it's unthinkable what Napoleon does with the dragons. I think this book will only be loved by me and Nicole. How sad.

Breaking radio silence

New home. New office. New rules. New stuff. New debt.

Wow, that's a lot of new and it's been keeping us busy. Evenings are now spent back and forth to Rona or Ikea, unpacking, staying later to work, etc, etc. I'm sure it'll all start to figure itself out and our free time will come back. But, in the mean time, there just seems to be a lot going on with not a lot of time to do the stuff we use to do all the time like play games, visit with friends, update blogs, watch DVDs, go shopping for stuff that's not condo related...

So, to make this little blog a bit more current, here's a brief visual update that's been some time coming.

We had a few interesting moving experiences. One of my favourites was moving a queen-size mattress four blocks with the Boleys and Tony:







At the Louvre with Nicole, we noticed an eyeless statue, so we removed our eyes as well.

Overcoming entropy

We are now living at our new place. There are still many boxes and no Swedish couch.

Observations so far:
- The location is much better. Incredibly close to Safeway, 17th Ave, McDonald's (you know, for breakfast), and Kyoto 17.
-We can hear the elevator from our bedroom which is annoying as you try to sleep.
- So much light. In our old condo, it felt like we were living in a basement suite because we never had any sun. Now it's sunny all the time. We rarely have to turn on lights.
-Peasant vision may be ours with a $17 antenna from Best Buy. Yet to see.

Mr. Park, you made this geek smile

It's only mildly embarrassing, but I must admit that I went with Natalie, Vanessa and May to the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo over the weekend. I was curious, ok? Just experimenting with pushing my participation in geek culture. And it was pretty much what I expected: comic books and sweat.

A distinctive smell.

There were also a number of people in various costumes: Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica, anime I don't know and a few people in random full animal costumes (the latter being a little creepy... and smelly). Nintendo was there and so were many known artists, authors and a few actors: Robert Picardo (Star Trek), Morena Baccarin (Firefly), Ray Park (Star Wars) and Lou Ferringo (The Hulk).

A variety of panels were held, but the most notable was the SciFi Panel with the first three of the above actors. It was an hour-long Q&A with not too many interesting questions and more than enough questions from people who are too far into the science fiction genre to allow for answers (eg: Mr. Park, can you elaborate on the 7 lightsabre styles and how you used these in your fighting style for Darth Maul?... yeah... no.)

But in the middle of things, one guy asks Ray Park to demo some of his signature moves. At first Park suggests that might not be a good idea in a room full of people, but then a space near the stage seems to open up a bit more to give him room. Then another Darth Maul comes out of the audience with his double-bladed lightsabre and Park seems to have no choice.

I didn't think it would happen, but then:



That made me smile like an idiot. Pretty neat stuff to see one of the cooler characters/actors from a franchise you enjoy do his thing live. Park even mentioned that it's fun now-a-days to pretend you're a Jedi, especially with the new toys out there.

Oh yeah, and for all those of you who care, he explained that Toad didn't die in the first X-Men movie. In fact, there were real plans to bring him back for a big fight with Nightcrawler, but those fell through due to budgetary reasons. Park even says that they mentioned they would be finding a role for Toad in the third movie, but he admits that with so many other characters from that universe, there isn't too much need to bring back a minor character who appeared to have died in the movie one.

Jobless... in a sense

I came into the office Monday morning to find this on my desk:


For the record, I've been fired before at this job. It has become a bit of a joke. The problem for my employer is that I like my job so much that I keep coming in. I may have even made the mistake of telling him I'd do this stuff for free... maybe that's why I haven't had a raise in a while.

But this is the first time I've been fired so officially. You know, with a letter and all.

So here I am with a letter of termination on my desk and a stack of client work that needs my attention. And what do I do? I get to work. I mean, stuff needs doing and I guess this is my chance to prove I'll do it for free.

Now before you panic and start calling me with job offers, I should explain the whole story.

My current employer has been bought out. It's been in the works for a number of months, but never official so I couldn't tell a lot of people. Now that things are official, it's time for me to clean out my desk here and make the move down the block to my new employer (ie: the buyer). I've got a bit of anxiety about the whole thing, but the change seems to be a good one: larger company, more opportunities for learning experiences and professional development, more colleagues from which to learn. It should be all good.

Now that I've been fired, I'm waiting for the formal offer letter from the new company. I've met the new boss and even worked with them on a few projects over the past while, so it shouldn't be too weird... I'd just like that offer letter now...

I'm currently in limbo--employment purgatory. How exciting!

A lot of changes going on in my life right now. Next time I see many of you, gentle readers, it may be at our new condo and I should have shiny and new business cards to deal around.

Nat at the Caen Peace Museum

I've gotten use to no grass, lots of cars and much concrete since I moved downtown. Walking the Canadian battlefields of France is incredibly peaceful. Both Vimy and Beaumont-Hamel are parks so there's plenty of grass and few cars. In fact, the French who live around the park enjoy walking the grounds, especially on Sundays.

When Nicole went to Vimy two years ago, she remarked how fresh the air was and I can say I felt the same way when I went back this year. But I forget that these battlefields were not peaceful 90 years ago.

So at the Caen Peace Museum I was especially impressed by the film on D-Day. The screen is split between the German and Allies. The film shows both sides preparing for the day. Of course, the Germans are oblivious and are going about normal drills. The footage of the Allies has men waiting in the landing boats. They all look up at the camera. Some smile or wave, some are sullen. But you know not all of them will make it.

The most affecting/interesting/memorable part of the film was the footage of the soldiers charging up the beach. The cameraman is standing among the soldiers, charging up the beach with them, into the hail of German bullets. The movie switches to an overhead view from an airplane. You watch these men run and just drop on the spot. Whether from a bullet or from strategy; they just fall. The movie then cuts abruptly to the beach as it is now. Sunny, calm, the beach empty of dead bodies.

When I visited, I tried to imagine those boys running up the beach but I couldn't. I guess that's why we have museums and memorials to help us remember.

I'm standing on the remains of a German machine gun bunker. The Germans forced the local French to build fortifications like these.

This was the first house liberated by Canadians on D-Day. If you watch footage from that day, you'll see the house as the soldiers march by. And people still live in it.

Statue at the Juno Beach Centre.

Wooden remains, now covered in moss.