Hudsons, a bar full of Canadian kitsch

We just enjoyed a pint or two at Hudsons, former home of Husky House and Gerry's. First, let's have a moment of silence for that location. Some of us have fond memories of that place, others... well I don't want to dwell on it.

Now, there's a brand new wooden bar at the corner of 5 St and 12 Ave--you can still smell the saw dust in the air. Hudsons is an Edmonton institution. Or at least, that's the only city I've ever seen a Hudsons. It's a generic bar/club that has kitsch on the walls. It tries to replicate the feeling of pubs in the UK. Pubs that have seen a few decades and as a result have collected a load of crap to display.

However, those bars in the UK have history on their side. One of our favourite pubs that we discovered in London was a bar that Christopher Wren built for his employees. It was just after the fire in 1666 and the workers were rebuilding St. James but thanks to the fire there was nowhere to drink. Wren, the smart man that he was, built a bar to keep his employees happy. Flash forward to today where patrons can drink at the very same bar a stonemason wetted his whistle after a hard day's work.

So back to Hudsons. Obviously, no history so it'll have to rely on other features to sell it. I have to say, if you want to watch an important sporting event, my choice will be Hudsons. There are many screens there. I think half the lighting was from the glow of the LCD screens. Also, the burger menu features a choice of bison or beef. Awesome. Sorry, vegetarians, there isn't much on the menu for you.

The last interesting feature is the crap on the walls. Most bars in Calgary go for the faux Irish feel. So you'll see farm equipment, milk jugs, and other Irish-y things on the wall. I'm sure it's "similar" to the real pubs in Ireland. In Hudsons, you've got Canadian stuff on the walls. Mostly pictures, like Terry Fox, guys working on the rigs, hockey, moose, etc. But some lobster traps and snowshoes too. So I get they're going for a Canada aesthetic but the bar feels like it was a generic bar that could have gone Irish or Canadian had it been filled with different stuff.

The beer selection is alright. They do have two house beers that are brewed by Big Rock. We had the Beaver Tail Ale that was basically a watered down version of Big Rock's Traditional Ale.

We didn't try the food but thanks to some $20 coupons, I'm sure that will be in our future. But I don't think this will be our new watering spot. It just feels generic, even with its interesting Canadian knick knacks.

Getting to know the neighbour

We've lived in our condo for nearly three years. And, despite being in a building of 41 suites, we rarely hear our neighbours. I attribute this to both the concrete construction and that we share our half of the floor with only one neighbour (they're across the hallway). We don't hear conversations, TV, or parties. And no one has ever told us to turn down the Rock Band or that Natalie needs to stop swearing at her Halo squad mates. Yup, it's been pretty nice and quiet.

Until the other night.

Let me set the scene for you: It's 3 am on a Tuesday morning. We're sleeping with dreams of sugar plums, Assassin's Creed, and whatnot. And then, suddenly: laughing.

And not just far away laughing, but laughing like it's right there in the next room. The laughter of people sharing a somewhat tense moment leavened by alcohol and fatigue. Laughter that may not be genuine, but does the trick nonetheless. And then it stops.

"I just don't think you appreciate me..."

"Sure I do, baby. I..."

And I'm riveted.

I mean, I've NEVER heard my neighbours before, yet somehow I'm hearing conversations. Sure, I'm not hearing full conversations, but I can clearly make out key words and phrases and that's fascinating. Drama that I didn't know could be shared with me is about to occur!

After a while the conversation starts to disappear. All I can get now is a sense of tone. An argument seems to be happening. She seems upset. He seems frustrated with her somehow. And, after a few more minutes of this, I'm actually rethinking the excitement of my new discovery of being able to hear this particular neighbour. The fascination wains as the conversation disappears and I start to drift back to sleep.

And that's when things started to get coital.

I'm back to being wide awake. Not because I'm interested in the "dialogue", but because this girl is really loud. She's totally rocking the airwaves and he's doing his best to keep up.

Fortunately, after five to ten minutes, the two-person party concluded. But, of course, I'm wide awake again.

You try drifting back to sleep after two people aggressively get it on right next door. It's not easy. And sleep was made even more difficult as the conversation started back up again.

"...the look on his face when..."

"Hehe! you know I always loved..."

The laughter is back. It sounds more fluid. Drunker maybe? Endorphins likely.

And then the sex again.

We're pushing into 4 am as she moves into her second crescendo of the evening. I'm starting to realize that I've been up for one hour because of these two, and I'm beginning to get a little bitter about the situation. Not so much because I'm being kept awake, but more because I'm being kept awake by someone else's sex which is decidedly less interesting than a dramatic conversation.

They finish for a second time.

This time around, the conversation seems less congenial. He seems agitated about something and she's giving off a similar vibe.

"I bet you couldn't..."

"Whatever. I'm really busy.... back at the office..."

"Oh, come on... it's not that late..."

OK. Now I'm confused. It's getting to be, like, 4:30 am. What kind of guy is talking about the office at 4:30 am? What kind of girl thinks that 4:30 am isn't that late? When did I get so old and crotchety? How come I haven't heard these people before? Why am I not asleep?

"Look," he says very clearly, "the guys need me at the office. I should go."

"...but just a bit longer... come on..."

And then they did it, loudly and angrily, one last time. And this time around, no one seemed really happy about it. And while I'm really tired by now, the drama had been upped and I was hooked.

Now it's 4:45 am and the escapades of the neighbouring suite have come to a close. But the climax of the evening is just around the corner.

"Look, I really have to go... the office..."

"No... please... stay... if you don't..."

"What?"

He had asked the question. I had been straining to hear the original statement myself. What had she proposed? Was his question rhetorical or had he not heard her either? Maybe we were both having a hard time hearing her.

"So that's it then?" he asked. "We're breaking up?"

WHAT?! How could they be breaking up? They'd just spent the last two hours destroying my sleep pattern and now they were breaking up? To tell you the truth, I felt a little used.

"Fine. I have to go anyway... the office..."

"No don't... I didn't mean..."

"No, I have to go."

A door closes. Another door slams. And now I can hear the familiar soft rumble of the elevator being called to a higher floor. And he's gone.

"I'm SORRY. I'm sorry..."

And that's it. All I can hear now are her sobs. She repeats her apology to the wall, her pillow, and me. And then she cries. At first loudly and then softer as she falls asleep.

But I'm still wide awake. Shocked at the drama. Emotionally drained by the experience.

It was 5 am. I haven't heard her since and I hope I never connect a face to the voice.

My new obssession

A couple of weeks ago, we were up in Edmonton visiting Daorcey's grandparents. Because they contributed 1/8 of their genes to Daorcey, we ended up talking about food. Specifically, Cream of Wheat.

I guess that, growing up, Daorcey ate Cream of Wheat quite a bit for breakfast (Daorcey's Note: Not ALL the time... jeeze). I had never eaten it.

We get back to Calgary and we buy a box of Cream of Wheat. What do I discover? Holy crap, this stuff is good! Why didn't anyone tell me? We I have finished the box and am now on to my second. It's really good when you cook it with milk and add some honey. And look! It's a good source of iron. I love iron.

Even though I finished dinner, I'm still thinking of cooking up a bowl for dessert. At least it's mildly healthy, right?

Still carless, still happy

Well guys, it's been one revolution around the Sun without a car, and life is still good.

Last year, we sold the Echo to Arone and Kristi. We were sad to see her drive away to the cold city of Edmonton, but she had to go.

Prior to sending Echo away, we did a trial-run of not using her but still having her close. What we found was that, when we did want to use a car (fewer than five times, I think), the Echo was never very healthy. I guess, to keep a car at its best, you have to drive it more than once every three months. The sediment in the gasoline and oil settles and then gets churned up when you turn it over. So, it made more sense to get rid of it altogether than just keep it handy "just in case".

So in the past year since Echo left, not much has changed. I did have to give up floor hockey, but not because people got tired of picking me up or the cost of renting the co-op car. The team actually disbanded... and I don't think it was the car's fault.

We do use a carshare from time to time, and I used it quite a bit for going to floor hockey. Now that I don't use it for hockey, I find I don't miss worrying about getting the carshare car back before my reservation ends.

We certainly don't visit Edmonton any less. In fact, we may have been visiting even more lately. We rent a car to go up for the weekend and that only costs about $20-$30 per day (insurance is covered by our Visa).

We do find that we put off some errands so we can rent a car for a day and then run around town getting those errands done. So, those days aren't too restful, but we survive.

Probably the biggest sign of how comfortable I am with our car-less lifestyle was during my business trip to Lincolnshire, a suburb outside of Chicago. When my department boss phoned me to inform me that I was going (I had to write a manual) she said I had to rent a car. I asked if there was public transit, she paused and said no.

And she didn't lie. To be fair, Lincolnshire is a suburb and I saw mainly the business park... but there were no sidewalks--not a pedestrian/public transit-friendly town.

So I buck up and rent a car. My second day there I had already tired of driving around to get to dinner or lunch.

I guess I'm a bit spoiled with regards to where I work in Calgary. There's the delightfully named Short Pants Plaza next to my work and it has a Subway, a shawarma place, a Jamaican place, and a Filipino place that specializes in digestive troubles. So if I don't bring a lunch, I just pop over next door. No such luck on my business trip. I had to get in the car and become irrationally frustrated that I had to drive to pick up lunch. I had to drive 10 minutes to some bagel place and the entire time I'm fuming.

I didn't have a problem with driving but I enjoy not driving. I like looking out the window during my 20-minute LRT ride. I like reading the Globe and Mail online or observing my fellow passengers.

I'm glad we were able to take the plunge and get rid of our car.