What's Up, Kai?

Being Cold vs Having One

2011-12-26T22:28:00.005-07:00

*Cough, cough*
“Robitussin!” It’s like bless you for coughs...

Of course, bless you is like bless you for sneezing, which most people say to sneezing. With the World Junior Championship of Hockey starting today in Calgary and Edmonton, it's only fitting that people in the media are talking about how mild a winter we are having so far in the great white north. This week’s topic is:

Cold Season

More often than not, I find myself having the sniffles. I usually have excuse – it’s allergy season, or I’m just getting over a cold, or I’m just getting sick, or I am allergic to your horse/cat/dusty dog... of course, I’m stubborn so I won’t go to the doctor, but as I get older I feel like it might be a wise move – that is, seeking the council of professionals. On a different topic for a different day, it has likely been about fifteen years since my last visit to a scheduled doctor’s appointment (though I have been for filling prescriptions or emergency anaphylaxis treatment).

It’s not that I don’t go to the doctor because I don’t think they will help – obviously it’s their job to be helpFUL and for the most part they are competent, but it’s just the general inconvenience of driving down there and waiting in the waiting room and then waiting in the mini room and telling them what’s wrong (even when there may, in fact, be nothing blatantly wrong other than the fact that you just waited for an hour to get a little chicken scratch of a piece of paper requesting the pharmacy to give you a bottle of pills or a vile of serum that you requested by name. I do understand why the process is in place, but for a non-drug abuser like myself it is just a simple pain in the figurative rear end.

People often complain about the horrible conditions they have endured in Alberta hospital waiting rooms and as recently as this last weekend, my cousin, a BC paramedic with a nurse wife had the joy of visiting the Rockyview hospital after eating cashews in a chexmix. Yes, he is allergic. Of course, he was admitted nearly immediately – not because he is in the Canadian health care system, not because of his large and sometimes intimidating stature, but rather because of the severity of his ailment. My experiences have yielded similar VIP treatment as well. When it is an emergency, the triage nurses are pretty good at identifying them as such. Sorry to say, but if you are not in some sort of trauma, please don’t take up the seats in the emergency rooms. It is the people with non-fatal, non-emergency injuries or sicknesses who have generally bad experiences in the hospitals and skew the data for long wait times.

I complain about being sick, but it’s really my fault whenever I am. Not sleeping enough, not washing my hands thoroughly enough or often enough, not drinking enough water, or in a more obvious and general sense, working in a service industry, dealing with not only a close-knit coworker group, but with the general public as well – touching money, talking to close-talkers, or dealing with close-dealers. When I was in Japan in 2003, this was around the tail-end of the big SARS outbreak. At this time, many germ-conscious Japanese were sporting masks and even to this day (as I saw my mom’s photos of her recent trip) I was interested to see that many still do. Maybe they’re on to something.

Of course, there are varying degrees of what one might refer to as “being sick”. From a working standpoint, being physically unable to safety and effectively do one’s job is a reasonable excuse not to go in. But I’m the kind of guy who got the “attendance award” in junior high because I missed so few days in the school year. People who just “call in sick” make me question the goodness of the human race. Being sick for the sake of using up sick days is immoral and unjust to the people who are generally healthy. Many companies have ways to incentivise workers who do not use their sick days positively by adding vacation days, or negatively by docking pay for missed days. I remember hearing of kids in high school calling in for each other to skip class or even better calling in sick for themselves, but doing so first thing in the morning while their male voices were lower and more adult sounding. Crafty, but I never did that mainly because I was going to have to be at school anyway so I might as well go, but also because I would have been scared of the consequences I might face if my parents ever found out. And I don’t have a low voice.

What can you learn from this post? Well, don’t lie. Cover your mouth when you sneeze or cough. If you’re smarter than I am, you’ll visit a doctor more than once every ten years but if you aren’t really all that sick, do yourself and everyone else in the waiting room a favour and don’t go to the emergency.

Thanks for stopping in.

Here's a photo to warm you up.
Huntington Beach, California

Get the Clean On - Make the Mess Gone

2011-03-08T19:44:00.003-07:00

You shower, everyday, right? I hope so. Or at least every second day...the point is you have a personal hygiene schedule, I would expect, so why is it so difficult to maintain a certain level of hygiene for your house? The laissez-faire attitude of someone-else-will-do-it can only get you so far, but eventually there comes a time when you just learn to shape up and clean up. This week's topic is:

HOUSEWORK

There was a time when chores were chores and you had no idea why your mom and dad would make you do them. It was because they were mean parents, the WORST! and didn't remember what being a kid was like. They just make up chores cause they can. Vacuuming, picking up clothes, stacking shoes nicely, hanging up your coat. Some were easier than others and of course, being kids, you took shortcuts or lied and said you did something but really just swept the crumbs under the counter...

Well, now we're all grownups. We have our own places to live and we all have jobs. Guess what: chores still exist. Of course, we don't have kids to do the work for us but chores being chores are just that - chores. If chores were fun we would call it fun time. But then we would avoid fun time like the plague.

So if you don't want to do chores, why do we? Well, they have maid services. Paid people who come to clean your house. It doesn't cost all that much and they generally do a pretty good job. That's all fine, but I live in a 1200 sq ft townhouse. I don't want to say it all comes down to money, but when you don't have a lot, why would you pay someone to do something you can do just as well in about an hour.

Well, procrastination is the key to this puzzle. I hate cleaning the bathtub more than anything in the world and I'm often unmotivated to pick up the vacuum and walk it up and down the stairs. It is, however, somewhat gratifying running the vacuum over the carpet and hearing nothing but the clickity-clack of little rocks and dirt flying up through the vacuum hose and into the canister. It's gross to think about it but it's one small victory in the battle of home maintenance satisfaction.

I love to cook. I'm not all that good and my food usually comes out too spicy, too salty, too burnt or a mix of all three. For this, my kitchen MUST be clean. We're not talking countertops made out of Lysol, but a little bit of daily TLC wouldn't hurt the kitchen's ego. To make matters worse, we don't have a dishwasher. I know it's a pain but it just means dishes have to be done literally every day. There is no way to hide them away, close the door and walk away to clean dishes. It's a horrible job, but with no kids around, it has to be done...but grownup people. Movies often portray horrible messes in kitchens with dishes stacked to the ceiling and garbage bags flung all over, empty beer cans astray on the floor and a fat guy with a half eaten pizza lounging around in a mustard stained la-zee-boy recliner. Well, my house doesn't have enough dished to stack to the roof but if it did, it would be impressive (damn you, raise ceilings). Alright, so my point. I like the kitchen clean and these days it's because I like it clean, not because my parents tell me I should.

I have no problem with mess, either. But selective mess is the key. You see, the key itself is the difference between DISorganized and UNorganized. Disorganized, of course, if your average "oh my god, it's time for work and I don't know where my keys and wallet are" versus the unorganized "I, personally, know where everything is that I need but if YOU came to my place to try to find it, you would be as lost as a sheep with no herd (or something else that gets easily lost)". For those keeping track, I'm the unorganized type.

Sorry to jump back to kitchens, but this is a place where I will always be lost. Moving to a new kitchen is like falling asleep on a road trip and having no idea where the heck you are when you finally wake up. The plates are in the corner, in the side, up top, to the left, on the bottom on the right...it's insane. Don't even think about finding a specific kind of glass! Glasses organized by colour, size, weight, genre... Even cutlery drawers are confusing sometimes.
But it all comes down to chores. Maybe the kitchen owner was having a bad/great day that day and thought it would be a horrible/great inconvenience/prank if they put the spoons in one drawer and the forks in another. Maybe they just don't really care about how messy the food cupboards are, or maybe they were being lazy and they asked their kids to do it for them. Maybe all or none of this is true and maybe, just maybe (and most likely) they just really didn't want to care about anything because it's just another chore.

Thanks for stopping in.

Commenting on the Comments

2011-01-08T12:46:00.004-07:00

Sometimes I misspell a couple words, but I'm pretty good. Sometimes I mess up my punctuation, but not often. sometimes don't properly capitalize of my words, but that's because i'm SOMETIMES too lazy. When people are ranting on a public forum, this ALWAYS annoys me. This week's cultural topic is:

FORUMS

News sites and forum sites insert the "comments" section at the bottom of the page for the readers. It allows readers to elaborate on the story or voice their own opinion about the topic in question. It is supposed to ad value to the story and increase enjoyment of the reader. My enjoyment is drastically reduced when the aforementioned conditions are not met.

Counterproductive comments. A Vancouver Canucks fan coming onto the Calgary Flames or the Calgary Herald website leaving a comment saying "Calgary Flames Suck" is not productive. Sure the Flames are having a tough year, but we obviously didn't go to the website to see some uneducated fan of a different team voicing their unwarranted (though sometimes truthful) boisterous exclamations. You don't see me going onto the Maple Leafs website talking about how their 9-1 win over Atlanta probably won't happen again this year...

Unnecessary additions. Comedy pairing announcing a show in Toronto with comments like "Come to Ottawa" which is clearly not their intention in the first place. www.jakeandamir.com If they wanted to announce a show to Vancouver, or Sweden or Montreal or Missouri, they would announce it. Thank you Jake and Amir for acknowledging your Canadian fans. And dear Canadian Fans, if you live in Edmonton, you will just have to wait a while longer.

Poor spelling and grammar. Not only are naysayers ruining my reading experience by telling me things I don't want to read and don't care about, but they are commenting negatively without proper grammar! This is not a text message. This is not a casual conversation with your buddy after the game. This is the internet. Oh, and in case you didn't know, anyone with the internet CAN access your ill-advised, poorly worded, rantings - and they DO. "Kippersof is a amazing golie. He is to kewl for the calgery flamers." If this made sense and had factual data to back it, it might be acceptable but in it's current state, let me tell you: it does not.

"First!" That drives me insane. Enough said.

Listen, I get that people want to affirm what a news story is talking about, but keep it to yourself. Going onto the Globe and Mail or New York Times forums to post "that is really horrible" talking about a suicide bomber does not positively affect anyone's day. Everyone knows that terrorism is bad. So thanks for agreeing but affirmation does not necessitate redundancy, and no one in northern Manitoba needs to know that Joe-blow from Oklahoma City agrees with a generally understood fact of life: bad things are bad. (no disrespect if you are from any of these places)

The world has ups and downs and everyone understands that different events affect different people differently. This is what makes everyone individuals. Obviously, it's not reasonable to assume that people aren't going to disagree with what reporters report, or that everyone in a certain area is homogenous in thought or opinion. Forums allow for public discourse and people expressing themselves is what makes a forum a forum. But next time you disCOURSE, please make sure you aren't being disCOURTEOUS.

DKH

Next Gent

2010-12-01T20:06:00.008-07:00

Sometimes opportunities present themselves and you jump. But you jump maybe in a slightly wrong direction. You miss the landing, you crash, and everything goes horribly wrong. This week's cultural topic is:

The Reset Button

Starting over from the point of failure? Vanilla Sky touched on the idea, but that was in the form a "lucid dream". Sad to say, folks, but that just doesn't exist. People talk about going back to high school or university or getting married or buying a house "knowing what they know now". Yeah a time machine would be nice - you could talk to your past self and fix little issues that had come up in your past in their future. This causes problems with the space-time continuum and according to Doc Emmett Brown "having information about the future can have disastrous consequences. Even if you're intentions are good, it can backfire drastically!"

I won't compare it to sports, because obviously many athletes would love to not have taken that penalty or shot the puck/thrown or kicked the ball differently, not to mention that happens hundreds of times of day in tens of different sports on hundreds of different levels to millions of different players in every single country in hundreds of different languages in tens of different dialects and if a reset button existed it would simply be re-reset by the reseter's opposition in an eternal dual of resets and time may even cease to continue. It does exist in some recreational golf in the mulligan, but it also usually results in a penalty stroke. OK - RESET.

Do you think Columbus got it right on his first try? Of course not. In fact, he tried four times to make it to India via the Atlantic Ocean before the Americas were officially considered discovered. (Not to mention - why does USA get a Columbus Day and Canada doesn't? Our 1490s history looks pretty similar to me...) Columbus is kind of a hero, but don't you think he would have preferred to have found India like he had planned? RESET.

It's like when you're cruising down the highway and you see that red and blue flash coming up in your rear view mirror. Hearts start racing, palms become sweaty and studies suggest that an overwhelming majority will reflexively hit the brakes. Makes sense, but if you are the one they want it's probably too late and if you're not the target, you probably don't have much to worry about anyway. You are in control. RESET.

Photography is always a hit and miss. Sometimes the shots come and some days they don't. The nice thing about photography though, is that you CAN try again. No one is going to know if the shot was the first shot or the last shot from a shoot. And the truth of the matter is that it doesn't really matter. Often all it takes is one. Photoshop helps too.

As we all know, my positing has been sporadic at best. A good friend of mine, Dale Vaughn, has a growlingly successful website, www.nextgent.com a type of open forum for the next generation of gentlemen. I have the opportunity to do some work with it and possibly get some great exposure, but here's the thing. In real life, there is not reset button. We learn from our mistakes and try again. So that's what I'm doing right now - getting the fingers moving, the mind rolling, and the creative juices flowing. You can look for me there soon, but for now, let's focus on not needing that reset button to (re)begin with.

What's Fair about it?

2010-11-09T18:38:00.005-07:00

So I'm sitting here watching the Oilers get very badly beaten, waiting for the Flames game to come on after a long day of selling tires, buying cars and researching Alberta employment legislation on boring technicalities of sick day pay and I think to myself...holy crap it's been a long time since I posted on this less than often viewed blog of mine. That isn't very gracious of me and definitely isn't fair to anyone looking to read. On the subject of fairness, this post's cultural topic is:

FAIR TRADE

I was recently at Second Cup (yes, the generally accepted lower quality Canadian long lost step sister of the great Starbucks but went to it because it's close and I'm lazy) with no real purpose other than buying a pound of coffee. If you know me, you know that I have a pretty regimented routine in the morning and coffee is an integral part of that process. Just like any addict, I have very particular tastes that need to be satisfied and considering I haven't been to a Second Cup in what is likely 5 years, I had no idea what kind of coffee I was supposed to order. I asked the girls for something medium-dark with sort of a chocolatey finish and after much deliberation, they came to the conclusion that I would like CUZCO, a Medium roast Costa Rican bean which, when I got it home was EXACTLY what I wanted. Why they would call a bean from Costa Rica Cuzco, a town in the Peruvian Andes is beyond me but I got over it pretty quickly and now is besides the point.

The big thing, however, that caught my eye (not on the first half pound that I bought but rather on the second full pound!) is the Certified Organic Fair Trade factor. (Look for the label!!)

Now, I've never really been all that into hippie things like fair trade or organic and especially not veganism (which goes hand in hand with both but is not the subject of tonight's post) so I decided to read into it a little...like a good curious little boy. I mean, I knew the premise or the facts and why it exists and for those who don't know, allow me to explain.

Historically, Americans (Canadians included) have been the by far the number one consumers of international coffee and make up nearly a fifth of the entire worlds consumption. Since coffee harvesting is so labour intensive, small player farmers producing coffee for export are able to cover basic supply costs but are left to make up for cost of harvest, manufacturing and shipping and many are literally losing money by producing their crops. (There are other contributing factors, but let's not worry about them for now.) Fair Trade coffee, on the other hand, guarantees farmers minimum prices for their harvest and retail buyers will often purchase directly from the farmers in order to minimize costs and maximize farmer profits. Of course, there is a growers' co-op to oversee and protect the farmers as well.

So let me get this straight à la FAQ.

Q: So I get the same quality coffee for the same low price?
A: Not true. Fair trade coffee often ends up costing you, the end consumer, more money but allows the international coffee community to grow and improve their growing practices and remain sustainable and profitable so we Americans can continue to be addicted to coffee-based caffeine.

Q: People actually like paying more for things?
A: When it's for the good of humanity sometimes people don't mind.

Q: So if I pay marginally more money for dramatically better coffee that doesn't treat emerging Third World Countries like coffee producing sweat shops, how am I supposed to feel good about it? In the end I still have less money...
A: Feeling good is a matter of opinion. Just keep a positive attitude, maybe pick up a second job and you'll be buying fair trade for the rest of your life.

Q: Is fair trade coffee right for me?
A: Personally I don't like the taste of Folgers or Nabob anyway. Does that answer the question?

Q: If Starbucks thinks this is such a great thing to do, why don't they buy and sell exclusively fair trade, why do they still hate some farmers?
A: Baby steps, I guess. Besides, some people (even farmers) just aren't that likeable.

Q: Do I have to stop eating meat, stop washing and cutting my hair, and buy a VW van if I start buying fair trade coffee?
A: Of course not. All of those things are unhealthy and owning a VW can become costly and parts are difficult to find in times of repair.

Since having bought my Cuzco label Second Cup coffee, I have recommended Second Cup to many a person. The girls were helpful and I found a coffee that exactly met what I wanted going in. Will I go to that location again to purchase my coffee? Yes. Have I already? Yes. Do I like the coffee only because it's fair trade coffee? No.

So what's the moral of the story? It's not that horrible to drink fair trade coffee. Coffee chains look good. My wallet barely notices. Farmers are happy. My taste buds are happy. So is it "fair"? No. It's FAIR TRADE!!

Guerrilla Coffee Fare

Quotes

2010-09-04T16:12:00.001-06:00

James: Hey Kai, that was some good cheese.

Kai: Yeah, I got it at Superstore. Do you want some more?

James: No, I've got enough dick cheese...WHAT?! Did I just say that?

Kai: Yeah, you really did.

James: I don't know why that was the first thing that came into my head. Shit.

Kai In Quotations

2010-07-02T20:40:00.003-06:00

Some months ago, shortly after becoming one of they luckily recently re-hireds, I got sent a message on Facebook regarding some of my unemployment posts and the guest blog that I managed to snag on my good friend Dale Vaughn's Stop Surviving Website. I was requested an interview and I sat down one afternoon with a young journalist, Bryan Weismiller to give him my point of view on the bigger picture of being unemployed and finding work in an unspecified field. I promised him that if he did not manage to get the draft published after he had written the article that I would accredit him on my blog. Though readership is not particularly high on this site, it is as they say in the media, any publicity is better than no publicity! With that being said, enjoy.

Working to Live
By Bryan Weismiller

Recessions shouldn’t be depressing for young Canadians who’ve been impacted by the recent economic downturn. Young adults need to put their jobs in perspective to deal with being unemployed.

It could’ve been shoveling mud in South America that taught Kai Hochhausen to see the bigger picture. Working as a 25-year-old at an international recruiting agency, Hochhausen was laid off when the recession hit.

“It was a really big operation that just got slashed. I mean there’s nothing you can do about it,” says Hochhausen. “Looking at the numbers, I can totally understand.”

Hochhausen’s ability to disassociate himself from his work shows a high level of maturity. Travelling around the world has broaden his perspective and it helped him handle being unemployed. His travel resume includes stops in 32 countries across 4 continents.

“I’ve been so many places and dealt with so many people. I take that back and use it in real life,” explains Hochhausen.

In 2005, Hochhausen was travelling through Central America when Hurricane Stan tore through the region. He was in Antigua, Guatemala when violent weather conditions triggered a large mudslide. Many of the local homes were buried beneath a layer of mud and rocks.

Hochhausen, while studying Spanish, was part of a relief effort that worked to clean up the area. His main job was shoveling debris away from the local’s lean-to shelters. He recalls being shocked at how homes were constructed from five pieces of tin.

“You think- this is what people live in? Holy crap.”

The economic downturn affects everyone in different ways. However, its effects are particularly damaging to young people because of how they value their jobs. According to Isha Sharma, a Mount Royal University sociology professor, young people are more likely to take being fired personally.

“You are what you do these days,” says Sharma. “You base your identity on the kind of work that you do. Being fired really questions your identity. It maybe says that you’re not doing a good job.”

It’s clear that young people are particularly hurt by losing their jobs. It’s a dangerous reality, especially because young workers are amongst the affected by the economic downturn.

Statistics Canada recently reported significant employment losses for Canadian workers between the ages of 15 to 24. From October 8, 2008 to October 8, 2009, employment fell 10.5% for males and 6.9% amongst females.

There was also a 24.8% decrease in employment for workers making less than $10 an hour. Conversely, employment increased for workers who made more than $40 an hour.

If young Canadians continue to be affected by the recession then they need to learn how to cope with it. Life experiences develop the maturity that is needed to deal with unemployment.

“You eventually realize that your work is a part of you, but it’s not all about you,” says Isha Sharma. “You get a broader perspective and realize that there are other people who don’t have a job either. So you tend to blame yourself less and try to understand the larger implications of not having a job.”

Kai Hochhausen is currently 26-years-old and he now works in sales for a large auto-wrecker chain. He’s slightly older then Statistics Canada’s definition of a young worker. However, his perspective on employment makes him a good example for other young adults:

“I’m not only a sales manager. I’m an amateur photographer. I like to write. I like to play sports. I’m not my job. I work, so I can do what I love to do.”

-30-

The Basics

2010-05-14T17:32:00.003-06:00

There seems to be a great deal of negative connotations around spending money these days. Though the Canadian government has recently declared the worst of the recession over, it seems to be that people are still very cautiously spending their money. Companies are still undergoing layoffs and many unemployeds can still not find work. Kai’s cultural topic of the week is:

CONSUMERISM

I was once at a family reunion where everyone had to give a little speech about who they are, what they do, what they believe, and demonstrate a special skill. My skill turned out to be wearing a Calgary Flames Jersey, putting on a cowboy hat and shot-gunning a beer. Glacier fresh-tasting Kokanee, it’s the beer out here. My uncle, on the other hand, spoke of the downward sloping demand curve – the basis for understanding economics.

Consumerism is not a new concept but the fear of it is. Economic principles and cultural norms suggest that we can stimulate the economy by spending, but what happens when there is no money to spend on an individual level?

The recession took its toll on many countries, companies, families and individuals. Those who made it out unscathed should consider themselves lucky. I have been in my current job now for about 9 months and the company is doing well by most standards but there will obviously be obstacles as no business is truly recession-proof, as I became merely one of the many statistics to be unemployed in the last two years.

I’m beginning to sound very textbook and uninteresting, so let me just simplify it for myself and for everyone reading…

When you have very little money, it’s simple: you should not be spending. Buy what you need at that’s it. In fact (to over-OVER-simplify) this is what caused the entire recession in the first place (along with other complicated refinancing plans and poor decisions by financial institutions and international bodies).

There seems to be this general understanding and acceptance of people who live outside their financial means and it needs to stop.

From time to time I get criticized for driving and older vehicle because it’s not as pretty or as fast as something only a couple years old. Driving newer/financed vehicles often can have as many if not more costs than driving an older vehicle that once all the balance sheet is laid out. Increased insurance payments coupled versus do-it-yourself maintenance projects can often leave you on a similar playing field. Obviously you don’t plan for emergencies and this is why you need to have a safe-hold. It’s not that I can’t afford to drive a nicer vehicle, it’s just that by driving a reasonable older vehicle I allow for other luxuries in my life: photographic equipment, snowboarding, international vacations, motorcycle, eating out, etc…

Financial advisors suggest keeping on hand at all times a minimum of three months salary in liquidable savings in order to safeguard any sort of job loss or accidental costs that may occur. Sounds pretty reasonable to me…

The easiest way? There is no clear cut method but savings have to be in your spending budget. You can easily budget fun, travel, luxury items and other big tickets into your spending but the most important key is to pay yourself first. If you can’t save money, don’t buy anything else. Just slow the spending. Buy essentials. No, a $2500 purse on sale for $1500 is not an essential item…

When it comes down to it, you are going to be the only one affected by your good or poor spending habits, so if you can either live with the consequences of living in debt or stretching yourself so far that you can literally not afford to splurge or you can just think a little.

Spending money is not rocket science, it is simple economics.

YOUR HOMOS

2010-01-03T22:31:00.003-07:00

DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUTTA MA MOOOOOOUUUUTH?! - Chris Tucker to Jackie Chan, Rush Hour

This will be a short one - like a refresher course cause it's been a while. This week's cultural topic is:

HOMONYMS

What's with people these days not knowing how to spell the words they are trying to write? English teachers are rolling over in their graves trying to figure out why it is such a big issue with kids (in particular) knowing how to use simple homonyms.

I would like to highlight the three most simply corrected spelling errors in commonly used English language - and I'm NOT trying to be a dictionary here...I just can't take it anymore!

You're/Your/ur
You're = you are. Your=possessive. Therefore, YOUR so cool is not correct. You're NOT cool if you're thinking that you're and your are the same. You're can be possessive as in you are possessive and have possessions but your not possessive cause that doesn't make sense. You're=U R does not equal Your=ur. .

To/Too/Two - I see two people messaging to each other using the wrong to/too/two all too often.

Their/There/They're. They're=they are. There=a place. Their=like your=possessive. They're going to meet us there with their friends. THERE, see the difference?

Shorthand - somewhat acceptable in t9 phone texting and even then is stupid in my books - books whose dictionaries don't even include shorthand! Ur buddies might think you're def pretty tight cuz ur party last nite was the sickest. Talk 2 u L8r! DUH

No, I'm not angry - It's grammar and grammar is simple if you follow the rules. Remember: Ain't NOBODY touch a black man's radio!

PS I really like this photo - From Zoo Lights 2009, Calgary, AB

Guest Blogger

2009-09-08T00:31:00.003-06:00

If you check in more frequently here than I do, you'll remember my good friend, Dale Vaughn. As I mentioned, he's written a short how-to guide for those "just surviving" and I had the great honour of being selected as one of his first guest bloggers.

It's a little different from the way I usually blog post, so it was a lot of fun and you might even be able to learn something.

Check it out. Let me know what you think.

http://startlivingfortoday.com/Stop_Surviving,_Start_Living_by_Dale_Vaughn/Living_For_Today/Entries/2009/9/6_Opening_doors.html

Great book, great motivation and a great way to see things in a little different light.

Howdy Y'all

2009-08-20T13:49:00.002-06:00

Nothing makes me happier than to know I am making difference. Unfortunately, these days I am not doing that. Being an unemployed part of society is really draining. This week’s cultural topic is:

COUNTRY MUSIC

This is also a game: guess how many country music titles are blatantly incorporated.

It seems every summer I get a little bit more into country music. I’m worried that eventually it will take over my main repertoire of music, but for now it’ll stay number two. Why? One magical event happens every year that increases exposure. This event is the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth aka the Calgary Stampede. Cal-GRY. Calgary turns country. Cow-town. Despite growing up with most of my friends in the city, they, like me, have become pretty countrified too.

My interest in country music is relatively recent. I grew up with the likes of Van Halen, Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn blasting from the kitchen, and rock music constantly on the radio. My brother liked this kind of music but fell into a crowd that also liked rap (for some reason). Myself, I was always a rock kid – strayed off (for some reason) into ska and punk for a brief period, but came back to my senses and went back to the classics like the Stones, Zepplin and the later glam rock of Guns n Roses or Def Leppard.

The fundamentals of rock and country music are the same. Based on Blues patterns or 1-4-5 progressions, appreciation came easily once regular attendance at Cowboys nightclub’s 25c draft Thursdays in University made it impossible to avoid. We resisted at first, of course, but wearing cowboy hats (last count for me 8) to the bar and teaching hot girls to two step became fun. I ain’t as good as I once was, but the line dance set is still the highlight of my night, whether I’m stone sober or after ten rounds of Jose Quervo.

After I bought my first country album (not that I have all that many), I bought Led Zepplin III to counter act my potential fallacy. You see, though both of my parents are from Alberta, it was somehow looked down upon. My dad nearly kicked me out of the house when he heard Toby Keith coming from my computer....but after reasoning we agreed to disagree despite classic blues riffs existing in all country and rock.

I’m becoming worried because all I’ve been learning lately on the guitar are country songs and though they are catchy and easy to play, I’m not learning any new chords. It’s not tough, but someone’s gotta do it. Live country music is good too. They can put on a show just as well as any rocker – the only difference is that cowboy hats are allowed.

In other news, I recently had a photo of mine discovered on Flickr which was shortlisted, then approved for inclusion in an online guide of Calgary. It’s not great publicity and I will not anytime soon be making photography my main objective in life, but it’s pretty neat to be recognized for work, even if it is only for exposure. Everyone wants to be kind of a big deal – like playboys of the southwestern world.

Calgary Geese – Schmap Calgary Guide

What does taking photos have to do with country music and being unemployed? Not much. But no matter what, you can make a difference in the world no matter how small. So let’s get rowdy and give somebody a great big howdy. Trust me, the chicks dig it.

The Great Red and White

2009-06-30T14:01:00.006-06:00

With Canada Day just around the corner (July 1 - tomorrow) many people may be ramping up their plans for the big mid-week day off. This week’s cultural topic is:

HOUSE PARTY

Sure, you could make your way down to the festivities around town, fight the crowds, overpay for drinks and battle traffic after the fireworks…which, ironically, is likely what I will be doing. But consider this option: party in a controlled environment at someone’s house.

They’ll have a nice little BBQ - maybe do up some steaks or burgers or chicken or veggie burgers for you weirdos. If they have the ability, they might have a little fire - hopefully in a fire pit – and of course – drink just enough to be satisfied but not too much that you can’t make it up for work on Thursday (unless you’re like me and don’t have a job in which case days of the week don’t really matter). If you’re lucky, you might even find a party with a hot tub in case it rains or gets characteristically Calgary-cold at night…

Attention Asian people:
YOU ARE NOT GOOD DRINKERS. Asian people suffer from what is known as ASIAN RED FACE – aka Asian Flush, Asian Glow, Red Cheeks, Oriental Flush…or more scientifically – Alcohol Flush Reaction. It’s caused by an asian gene’s inability to quickly metabolize alcohol intake and a lack alcohol dehydrogenase, an enzyme which breaks down simple drinking alcohol (ethanol) into the eventual digestible product – acetic acid. Approximately half of people with Asian descent are considered to be sensitive to this drinking condition. The interim byproduct of the conversion of ethanol to acetic acid is acetaldehyde, and it is this byproduct which causes capillary constriction through face, eyes, neck, and virtually all other epidermal surfaces and gives Asians that bright hue we all like to make fun of them for, leading them to make us think they are in fact way drunker than they may actually be.

Attention White/non Asian People:
Just because you aren’t Asian doesn’t mean you can’t suffer effects of acetaldehyde. This is a possibly (unconfirmed studies) carcinogenic byproduct and is one of the leading causes of the dreaded HANGOVER…but at least you won’t turn bright red after a couple sips of your favorite bevie.

Luckily for me, this deficiency skipped most of my asian-half of the family, though one time I had a really stiff and super spicy Caesar and was also sun burnt, so it might have looked like I had it, but several follow up attempts have confirmed that I am mostly immune.

Whether you're RED faced (Asian) or WHITE faced (non-Asian), the combination of faces at your house party will be perfect in the spirit of our great country's confederate anniversary. So this Canada Day, remember kids:

Whatever you do, this Bud’s for you…unless you’re Asian.

Procrastination Meeting: Tomorrow

2009-06-12T14:45:00.005-06:00

Thought it would be fitting to throw up a post since I haven't officially written anything in more than approximately three weeks.This week's cultural topic is:

PROCRASTINATION

Over the last few months I have become a master of this act. Without hard deadlines, it becomes very easy to put things off. Excuses can constantly be made on why things aren’t done. The weather is nice. The weather is crappy. Traffic is congested. A good show is on TV. Youtube. Maybe you just don’t feel like it. (ps check out Sungha Jung on youtube)

Ever found yourself using one of those excuses in order to do something more fun and likely less productive? Maybe you play video games or watch a movie instead of cleaning the house – I have NEVER done that... Or maybe you sit outside and read a book instead of cooking dinner. But you still have to clean the house. You still have to eat dinner. You still have beat your newest game on Playstation 3. I still can’t pass Rockband on Expert – maybe because Green Grass and high tides is retardedly difficult even on difficult on bass, but we’ll talk about Rockband some other day.

Nay, we will talk about RockBand right now. Rockband is easily the sweetest video game ever made. Drums, guitar, bass, singing all in one magnificent plastic conconction? Absolutely brilliant. Anyone who has NOT played Rockband – STOP READING RIGHT NOW AND GO PLAY!

WAIT! DON’T LEAVE. COME BACK. Dang, just lost a reader two. Too late for them anyway. Their life is better now having played that awesome game. They’ll be back sooner or later. Anyway, anyone who HAS played and doesn’t like Rockband, I ask you this: what the hell? Classic rock songs in an interactive format with so many different difficulty levels (4) that even a geriatric could pass on a first attempt – what’s not to like?

I was talking with some people the other day about the merits of learning an instrument or new language, versus something like photography as a hobby. Argument was raised strongly support music (by musicians) and how it’s a skill you learn gradually and can often retain for the extent of your life with occasional practice and early dedication. The counter argument, of course, is that it DOES take a great deal of dedication, whereas photography relies heavily on the equipment at the photographer’s disposal. A beginner guitar or piano player will not be able to break out Stairway, but a first time photographer might be able to capture the world’s greatest scene (subjective, of course). I like to think I dabble a little in both: Travel inspired photography; Rockband inspired guitar.

Did you ever see the episode of Family Guy where “Stewie Kills Lois”? (Spoiler Alert!)Well, turns out at the end of the a two part episode, Stewie dies at the hands of his parents after taking over the world. Then we learn at the end it was a all a simulation Stewie was running and Bryan called him on it. Well that’s not really all that different from what has just happened here. Only this was probably way more entertaining. No real substance and time well wasted….but better to procrastinate than do something productive. Thanks for stopping in.

Trooper-less

2009-05-20T18:36:00.004-06:00

“There could be only one…” – Mark Stanley, upon seeing the Trooper downtown

Quotation could also have been “here for a good time, not a long time…”. This week’s culture topic is:

CARLESSNESS

No, I didn’t spell that wrong, nor did you read it wrong. I am without vehicle. I am, therefore, car-less. I mean, you could probably carelessly read the word wrong, but if you did, you would miss the point of what I am trying to get across. Well, there really isn’t a real point yet, but it’s the idea.

Beginnings:

My story with the Trooper dates back almost 3 years. The history before my ownership is somewhat hazy. All readings were in imperial units and for the first while I needed a cheat sheet for conversions. The alignment is slightly off and only while driving in the left lane of a highway was the steering wheel straight. It had oversized tires and the speedo read low. Before me, it was likely an off-roader because the owner who had it before I did had to do major repairs on the rear differential. My troubles with the vehicle were minimal. I bought it for only one thousand dollars.

Driving:

It probably needed new seals all around.. After an early overheat and thermostat replacement (which never actually fixed the problem), my car was somehow deemed highway worthy by most of my friends, my family and, finally, me. We took some pretty good drives out the mountains – shifting down into fourth gear when necessary – some easy drives up to Edmonton – which proves undoubtedly that they are at different elevations (study driven by fuel economy), and of course, had some pretty good times in the city. All I ever put into it was oil and a starter, oh and a non-rusty front bumper.

I believed in the vehicle. Sure it was unsafe by many people’s standards, but it got me around. By the end of its life, the end section of the exhaust was all but gone. I drove for the most part on PnP gas and the engine knew it. It was never the smoothest 2.6L engine but it was a failing clutch that eventually got the best of the machien. One time I backed into lamppost and needless to say, the lamppost won that battle. Big dent, cracked plastic. No biggie.

Math about it:

Let me let you know something. I will not be getting a brand new car anytime soon. Sure, it’s less attractive picking a girl up for a date in an old rust bucket, but I paid $1000 for three years of driving. Add in the repairs I had done and that’s $1500 and subtract the measly $250 I managed to sell it for the open market…1250 for 3 years of vehicle. Dang that’s good value. Plus, now it will be in a better place and will get that clutch and exhaust it’s been rumbling and screeching about for the last 6 months.

Personality:

You see, many people have made fun of my vehicles over the years…station wagons and SUVs (and I also owned a Honda Accord for one day, but then sold it back because it wouldn’t start when I went to pick it up). It has easily been the coolest (unfortunately) and best looking vehicle which I have ever owned (unfortunately). I would even say it looked kind of rugged (with rear tire on back) and had good tire to wheel well ratios. But your car kind of becomes a part of your personality, so I have learned over the years never to insult a person’s car, because that’s like insulting the person directly. After all, having an ugly car is sure a hell of a lot better than not having one at all.

I will finish this post off with a musical tribute to my late Isuzu Trooper. Feel free to play along if you know how…

The Trooper Song

G D Em7

A long, nine-teen years ago,

Am               C                Em                   D

I can still remember how that loud exhaust used to make me smile

     G      D    Em7

And I know if I had my chance,

      Am                 C                Em              C           D

That I could drive those people around and maybe they'd be happy for a while

    Em          Am                   Em          Am

But April road made me shiver, with every gear change I'd deliver

 C          G        Am          C                      D

Bad news for the AMA, that one last mile I couldn’t make

   G          D           Em           Am7            D

I can't remember if I cried when I realized I had a broken ride

 G         D          Em

Something touched me deep inside

     C       D7    G   C   G

The day the TROOPER died…

CHORUS

    G    C         G        D

So bye, bye big old practical ride

     G            C            G        D

No you’re not a chevy - that’s no reason to hide

          G        C                  G           D

And the good old toy was drinkin' coolant and oil

         Em                          A7   Em                          D7

Singin' this will be the day that it dies, this will be the day that I dies

 (instrumental)

G C G D

G C G D

G C G D

   C                D7             G   C   G

…this will be the day the trooper died.

Big Bacon Classic

2009-05-07T17:39:00.010-06:00

Holy crap Wendy’s Baconator sandwich is delicious. What the hell kind of anecdote is me eating a delicious and huge fastfood sandwich? Read and find out. This week’s cultural topic is:

ROOMMATES

As you may or may not know, I have been living at my friend James Bacon’s house for the last year. The catch? HE hasn’t been.

While finishing his degree in Edmonton, though not so much finishing as it is doing one entire one, the magical castle of Baconland had been left vacant for the greater part of the last 4 years (save for some months James did a work term in Calgary) and then, of course, until I began to call it once again my (borrowed) domain.

Pre-blog (and pre-me-even-knowing-what-blogs-were-and-perhaps-even-pre-the-existence-of-blogs) I lived here for a year in 2003/2004 during my studies at the University in Calgary. I moved in when my Dad and Step-mom moved to Holland (and moved back once they came back for second semester of fourth year). Rewind to just over 5 years ago: James was an aspiring med-student/doctor. Bacon-parents lived in Houston and visited fairly frequently. We managed to successfully be caught on every single party (two – because it only took two failed attempts for us to realise we wouldn’t get away with a third) to have parties at the Casa de Bacon. We didn’t have really great jobs but big things were on the horizon for both of us. We went out from time to time and had many friends at school, but somehow managed to NOT attract women. We both drove older vehicles that are now no longer with us in car form, and the house was littered with Bacon-mother’s creepy (yet somehow endearing) doll collection which scared us at night.

However, on one fateful day in March 2008, after what seemed to have been an attempted break-in to the Bacon Palace, Bacon-boy and Bacon parents decided to give me the honour of protecting their fruits…or loins…or whatever. I moved in second week of April.

My relationship with the Bacon house has had it’s ups and downs and (mainly due to mismanagement of things I simply didn’t know about) we had some troubles…pilot light on the furnace one day when it was -20C, hot tub heater crapped out because the filters were plugged, a pipe burst in the garage when it wasn’t turned off for winter…but that was pretty much it. The big TV and great stereo system were an excellent addition to my Playstation and it’s Rockband setup and the beautiful back yard made for great BBQing in what was an unnecessarily cool 2008 summer. But alas, it’s a huge house. Too big for one guy and lucky for me, that changed last week.

When James moved back, things went pretty smoothly. Moving truck was unloaded without any major hitches, garage was cleaned out and looks great now, and we have a great arrangement for food. I buy food and cook it deliciously, James buys beer. This is a temporary arrangement, but it works for far. James has had a few roommates over the years, Joel, those two guys in that dumpy place, Steve, Ashley, the crazy old lady in Cold Lake, but things sometimes seem to come around full circle. This time, the circle is James and Kai being roommates (of course, not the roommate by definition or dorm rooms or English roommate standards – housemates). I am unemployed salesman and James is fully qualified to soon be an engineer. Pretty sweet. But even 5 years later, many things seem eerily similar. Bacon-parents live in the Middle East. We still both don’t have jobs (though not for lack of effort - I HAD one and have prospects and James HAS one, but doesn’t start until summer). We still tend to repel women, even though we’ve had our successes and SHOULD have the system figured out by now. Neither of us have properly running vehicles (with the Trooper drivable but on the fritz and the Dakota completely dismantled but on the repair). And of course the (big Bacon) classic clincher? The dolls still creep the living shit out of me

Maybe the Baconator can come over and take care of everything.

PLAYOFFS?!

2009-04-21T13:29:00.006-06:00

Jim Mora: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qwq7BYOnDrM

If you have never seen this clip before, watch Jim Mora is one of the most epic press conference rants ever. I will not be going into too much depth to avoid too much contraversy on this topic. This week's Cultural Topic is:

PLAYOFFS
I am an avid sports fan. Sport of choice: NHL Hockey. I have watched an estimated 300 hours of hockey, both live and on TV so far this season. My team: The Calgary Flames. I did the same last year. I managed 6 live games (a personal best) in the 2008-09 regular season – Capitals, Stars, Canucks, Panthers, Blackhawks, Avalanche. Pretty good year. But, the highlight of my hockey watching career? My first playoff game: Game 3 v. Chicago Blackhawks.

The C of Red was fierce last night, my friends. Flames were down two-to-none after dropping two hard-fought battles in Chicago. Newspapers will report that the Flames played a spirited game and overcame adversity on their last chance for survival – only two NHL teams have ever come back from a 3-0 deficit in the playoffs, so dropping this one would almost surely dig them a deep grave.

I have never heard or seen a crowd like that at the Saddledome. Yeah, we can get some pretty good crowds out for some pretty exciting times, but nothing compares to the playoffs. I’m not going to ramble on too much. I’ll just let the pictures explain for themselves.
The Flames have made the playoffs now 5 seasons in a row and it has been exciting at the ‘Dome every year. Being able to see it for myself was pretty amazing. So even though he will never read this post, thanks for my uncle for allowing this to happen (despite all of his best efforts trying to convince my cousin otherwise).

The Oilers did not make the playoffs this year. In other playoff news, most analysts are predicting a Western Conference win, despite Boston being really good this year. Vancouver will likely beat St Louis in the next couple games (they are up 3-0) and that's fine. I am a fan of the Flames, but I'm also a fan of all hockey. If, however, the Canucks win the Stanley Cup this year, I will not follow hockey 2009-10. You heard it here first.

GO FLAMES GO!

(Video)

Going Corporate

2009-04-13T15:42:00.004-06:00

You may have noticed in the last week or so, a few changes have been made to the site. That’s right, I have mastered the art of HTML programming, made the columns wider and filled out the page to make a fuller looking, easier flowing website layout. I’ve added a site counter and a mini-cowboy clock and newest of all, we are monetized. This week’s cultural topic is:

“NEWS”

Listening to Rex Murphy’s Cross Country Checkup a few weeks back his discussion topic was on the subject of how people get their news. The discussion arose because a number of newspapers have or are in the process of converting their content fully online, which makes traditional newsprint more and more obsolete. What struck me was that blogging is among one of the most common mediums for where the general population is actually getting its news and information. In the end, the jury ruled that sitting down with a newspaper and coffee for a Saturday read is still everybody’s favorite way to take it in. If you ARE online (which you are, obviously) I’ve added some new links down the right side that you just might care about.

My good friend Dale Vaughn has recently written, designed, and released an inspirational audio book that dares you to live for today – with a foreword written by yours truly. [Insert shameless plug here] It’s actually a pretty neat concept. As you are likely aware, Dale and I worked together in London and traveled together in France, Spain and Portugal. Stop Surviving, Start Living delivers a great message to anyone who is interested overcoming barriers that are set out by normal everyday life.

Of course, not everyone can just get up and leave without consequence, can they? The official release of the book was last week and so far many people have learned ways that, in fact, they can – step by step. The website is currently in its earlier stages, but in short time will also feature guest bloggers, podcasts, interviews, and other more interactive tools.

Also newly added links are whereisjoel.com (blog by Joel Jackson) and papersean.com (also put together by Joel) that chronicle the life adventures of Joel’s little friend, Paper Sean. As always, you can check in with the old links too – I know Kate and Sarah are still posting almost daily and I’ve learned through the grapevine that Rizy Fawkes is back in the studio and should have some more great tunes in the next couple of weeks.

So there you have it, we’ve gone corporate. From Dale giving you the tools to get up and get out, to Joel and Paper Sean falling through cracks in the table, this blog has product placement written all over it (literally). Thanks as always for stopping in and if all goes to plan, we’ll be rich in no time.

Capturing the Internet

2009-04-05T19:54:00.007-06:00

The internet is a network of globally interconnected computers that allows for information transfer, communication and straight up fun. The most common use of the internet is done on a channel known as the World Wide Web, which allows for interconnectivity through hyperlinks and URLs. But for now, that's all we'll really have to know. This week's edition of things that don't make sense is:

PHOTO SHARING

This week I joined Flickr, the photostreaming website that allegedly all photographers belong to. I took the opportunity to browse my collection of photos from my travels, from my many ski trips and various other exploits around home and in town. I find that looking at other people's photo posts, I'm drawn to doing more artsy composition - macros, abstracts, etc. It's interesting to think differently and see everything in a little different light in order to capture something that most people wouldn't normally look to find. Check it out:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/36978357@N07/

If this blog post was posted 10 years ago (the fact that blogs were not a prevalent form of communication aside), photo sharing would be going down the store, printing off a roll of photos and driving them over to your friend's house. "Hey, can you order doubles of that picture? I want a copy...."

Of course, film cameras still exist, so I'm not going to discredit the fact that this can still conceivably be something you hear in your day to day musings of the game of life. Comparatively, though, we now have such advanced technology not even the biggest nerds could have imagined it in the 80s. To name a few, high definition scanners, photo quality printers, and of course, digital cameras.

Digital cameras, for obvious reasons have advanced dramatically since they became mainstream over the last 10 years and obviously there are only more improvements and tweaks to come. This is awesome for all photographers of all levels. Point and shoot cameras were first to be converted to digital technology but as they were before the revolution, SLR cameras have caught up and are more advanced than you could ever imagine. About 6 months ago, Nikon released their D90, near top of the line SLR to compete with Canon's first live-view Rebel XSi, that not only meets the Canon's specs, but also includes high definition VIDEO! The first SLR of it's class to even have video capabilities (previously unseen due to SLR's technology)

But it's not the fact that people can take photos beyond their normal skill level, it's the fact that if you take a crappy photo you can take it home and completely alter it using photo editing software. I like the fact you can change the white balance or intensify your reds - this just makes your great photo better. I think it's neat that RADICAL changes can be made to photos like making a normal size guy walking down the street 10000 times as big a the other people and standing taller than skyscraper buildings. That's art and art is nice, but don't call it photography anymore. That doesn't make sense.

Nintendo DSi was just recently released with revolutionary Nintendo technology that plans to compete with the likes of the iPhone, PSP and the evenchanging Blackberry series hybrid telecommunication and entertainment consoles. Complete with a 0.3 megapixel camera, photo-editing software, and stylus stylings with computer interchange abilities, the DSi is ALMOST exactly what every kid wants...except the internet. Hey Nintendo, you get that we like taking pictures, but you're missing out on the all important web-communication. Otherwise it doesn't makes sense. Please fix, then call or email me...if you can figure that technology out.

What do you do?

2009-03-26T12:29:00.003-06:00

“Ideally, I am looking for a sales-based position in Public Relations with a great product or service to back me up. I have work history in customer service, sales and recruitment. I have enjoyed all positions I have held and would be happy to do grow on the many skills I have developed.” This week's cultural topic is:

UNEMPLOYMENT

I've had some pretty good reasons to write over the last year, I'll admit, but I, like many, got tied up with work, with travel, with vacation. I've officially been out of the country 4 times in this time period and obviously have not stood up to my blogsite's own name. I would like to welcome any readers back to what I will call an INSPIRED post, but realistically it is nothing more than a normal post, just greatly delayed. As it’s been one year minus a month since I last wrote on this site, it has been one month since I have worked for paid money. Of course, with severance and banked vacation, I’m still sitting pretty pretty (qualified redundancy).

“What kind of work are you looking for?” used to be my catch phrase. I would rock that like it was going out of style, and ultimately, it was the be all, end all discriminator on job placements. It’s strange now to be on the other end of that question.

For nearly a year and a half, I worked for Manpower Services. I moved around from Onsite Recruitment to a hybrid role to Staffing Specialist – wherever they needed me, I was there. I’m not going to lie: I was fun. I had a great team, easy-going clients and when I went to work, I was constantly learning. I think that’s really all you can ask for in a job, isn’t it? You have to like what you do. Makes sense. I never missed a scheduled day of work. Never called in sick. On the two days I was late, I was not the only one. This is why I was so surprised when I was called into the boss’s office, given the rundown and handed the letter explaining everything.

“It has nothing to do with your performance and we would be happy to have you back. Thanks for your dedication to the company. We simply can’t sustain the number of staff we currently have at this time.”

I suppose I can take solace in the fact that I was not the only one let go on that day or in weeks leading up. By my approximate calculations, I was one of 8-10 let go in the course of the month of March. Go figure though, a staffing company not properly calculating their STAFF.

Anyway, since then it’s been countless online applications (though countable by looking in the correct desktop folder), phone calls, hours of browsing job sites (with obvious side-tracks), cold-calling (the bane of my existence), networking emails (my network is understandably not as a broad as I would have expected), and of course, an unending consumption of home-made coffee. These have all yielded several phone interviews, one job offer (which I turned down due to non-ideal relocation issues) and overall, one continually unemployed Kai.

Yeah, I applied for EI. Most people say “well, you’re entitled to it, take it.” I never really wanted to, but after I did my first report, I realise why so many people stay on it for so long. It’s so bloody easy. They don’t ask you where you’ve applied. They don’t ask you what you have done to find work. You don’t even have to leave your house to do it. Ease of access? Get out of town. National socialist parties like the NDP make me sick. But that’s a different story for a different day.

Looking back on this post, it kind of looks like I’m just whining and begs the question of why anyone would ever want to read it, but I’m indifferent. What are blogs for but to get ideas off one’s chest? Like I preempted with, not my best post, but a post nonetheless. For good measure I've added some photos.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to the opportunity to further expose you to my writing.

Blame the Europeans

2008-04-28T19:14:00.003-06:00

It’s been around since the beginning of time. It’s in the media. We all have one, but some peoples’ are different. Some people follow others and some don’t. Even stupid idiot emo-jerk kids (whose I don’t like) have one…who am I?
This week’s riddler is Kai – and this week’s cultural topic is:

STYLE

Critics and connoisseurs claim that Europeans basically set the stage for the world when it comes to fashion and fashion trends. The hottest designers are Italian and exhibit their masterpieces in Milan, the street with the highest concentration of shoe stores per stretch of road is in London, and among the expensive shopping districts in the world is in Paris. So they must know what they’re doing.

Style is obviously a personal choice. People dress the way they want to dress and chances are if you are in a certain demographic you are more likely to dress one way than another. There are styles you can find at the mall. And since malls are often looked down upon by many-a-shopper, there are styles that you can’t. There are styles you will find on a fashion runway, and there are styles you will find only on the street. Some people like to dress athletically and prefer comfort, and some dress up no matter the occasion. Everyone has to choose their own style If you’re at a loss, of course, you can always visit the GAP to find out what’s new and exciting in the fashionable world of “average”.

Common trends: Lawyers and accountants can most often be found in a suit and tie. Engineers and geologist love their khakis and black leather jackets. Construction workers find themselves in jeans and a t-shirt, maybe sporting a hard hat…but personal protective equipment aside – they will also wear work boots. But that’s at work. It’s outside of work which really shows who’s who… I actually don’t know anyone in the world who doesn’t like jeans and a t-shirt for a lazy day around the house.

The style I have most easily fallen into is one I like to call “farmer”. I never grew up on a farm (or even in the country), I’ve never driven a big truck or hearded cattle. I’ve never owned a really nice cowboy hat (though I do have six or seven). On account of genetic defects known as allergies, I’ve never even properly ridden a horse. But I dress like a farmer/lumberjack/redneck because so do lots of people. Plaid is pretty universally known as a blue-collar design. I don’t have any REAL facts on it, so I won’t pretend anything beyond what I’ve already written, but it’s amazing how many people wear, how many stores supply and how many people accept this style as a reasonable thing to wear around in the streets, in the bar, in your car, on the ski hill…

Personally, I am pretty willing to accept most styles on most people. HOWEVER, one style I just hate is that of the emo. Stupid tight pant. Stupid long bangs that cover only one eye. Stupid hair dyed black. Stupid not working out. Stupid studded belts. Stupid glasses. Stupid impractical converse running shoes. Stupid pretending not to care what others think which is obviously wrong otherwise they wouldn’t dress like total idiot retards… But don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with following others in the way you dress. Emo-style, however, came from California so we can’t blame this one on the Europeans.

But where’s the proof you ask? Well, I now have empirical evidence that proves that styles in Europe are ahead of those in North America. I, Kai Hochhausen, purchased, over one year ago, a pair of sunglasses from a magical clothing chain known only as H&M in London. That pair of sunglasses broke, as a result of wearing them on my shirt neck and on the assumption that they were cheaply made from the beginning, when I was in Spain in the summer. I was devastated. I desperately shopped in every H&M I could find for the rest of my European vacation. But alas, they were nowhere to be found. Two weeks ago, in Calgary, I found that exact pair…one year later, to the month. How does that prove anything?

It doesn’t. Let’s go shopping.

Oxy-Moron

2008-03-26T22:02:00.002-06:00

“Hey, what’s happening?”
“Good…dammit. I mean, not much.”

This week, my newest series Things That Don’t Make Sense continues. It’s been already a couple of weeks since I last posted and to be honest, get off my back about it. There’s obviously no pleasing everyone. Some people suggest I write more often, some asking for more detailed posts, some commenting that they are consistently too long. This week’s cultural topic is:

COUNTERACTIONS

I know I’ve talked about healthy eating before, but a couple of weeks ago I ordered a taxi. When the driver arrived at my house, the passenger seat was literally COVERED in bottles of water. Naturally, (to avoid taxi driver turrets – ask if you have no idea what this is) I said “Hey man, that’s a lot of water.” This taxi driver (obviously an immigrant) explained, after a long-winded story, that he was ‘saving his kidneys’. “What does that even mean?” I asked. Apparently you need to save your kidneys for when you’re old and if you drink cola, coffee, alcohol, etc, your kidneys will be weak for when you are older, which is why he only ever drank water. I believe that without practice, your kidneys will not be reactive once you DO actually need them. So even though I don’t have any scientific evidence to back this claim, but I don’t think that makes sense.

FACT: I originally had the title of this post being “Checks and Counter-Balances”, and there’s actually no real reason for me to divulge this piece of information. In fact, that fact is in and of itself something that doesn’t make sense.

I’m not going to lie and say I’m perfect – no matter how well I pretend. I do some of these counteracting things day in and day out and those who know me can vouch while you read on. But here is a short list of counteractions that make absolutely no sense and require virtually no further explanation:

- Going for a nice long run, then going for all-you-can-eat (sushi, tacos, fish & chips, etc…) to the point of not being able to walk straight.
- Smoking…but especially if lighting up while walking out of the gym.
- Ordering junk/fast food combo meal with large fries, an extra sandwich, and chicken nuggets…with a diet drink.
- Ramping up for a cleansing diet by eating fried chicken and potato chips.
- De-tox diets. Ever. Period.

Of course, I would like to elaborate on a few things, but I just don’t think it would really add to anything. For the record, “Jumbo Shrimp” is not a real oxymoron.

In an attempt to satisfy all potential readers, I tried not to stray too far on this one. BUT, if you think I missed something, PLEASE post a comment. That’s simple. If you can’t handle that I don’t manage to write every single week, you may want to consider some new hobbies. Moreover, if you find that the posts are too long, I guess you can just stop reading when you’ve had enough, but I just don’t think that would make much sense.

Don’t Carry a Cold in Your Pocket

2008-03-12T19:59:00.004-06:00

Over the last few posts, I will admit, I’ve been pretty angry sounding, maybe not so fun, and perhaps pretty annoying. It’s just – sometimes – things really frustrate me…for no reason. So anyway, for the next little bit I’ll just pure rant, if that’s alright with you folks. This week's cultural topic is PART ONE of a new series featuring Things That Don’t Make Sense:

HANDERCHIEFS

Normally when I’m trying to think of something to write about (and I’ll admit that sometimes I don’t write that well) I just try to write everything down in point form and then just fill in the blanks, kind of like mad-libs only less funny, less “reader directed” and more writer-controlled.

I don’t understand handkerchiefs. I mean, obviously I understand why they EXIST (historically, anyway) but I don’t understand why people still USE them. They invented Kleenex (facial tissue) with the exact goal of outlawing handkerchiefs, but for some reason they were only so successful.

FACT: Kleenex was trademarked in 1924 and by the 1930s the company was basically leading the single-use, paper-based facial tissue and has continued to maintain itself as an industry leader. Better than ever, Kleenex provided a non-reusable alternative to the handkerchief. But that’s not all there is to know about blowing your nose.

I know guys always look after they’ve blown their nose, and it’s not just me – ALL guys do it. I’ve always wondered if girls look. Guys know what boogers look like. You name it: phlegm boogers, allergy boogers, running nose, bloody nose, post bloody nose, straight up snot. But

Boogers aside, it’s not that fact that you carry around a snot covered cloth all day and use it over and over and will likely end up redistributing and recycling mucus back onto your nose or face that bothers me. What bothers me is the fact that you then take that same cloth and mix it in with all of your laundry. You know when do laundry and it smells so nice afterwards and then you caress it on your cheek and snuggle up to it like you would if you saw that little laundry teddy bear thing from the ads in real life? Well if you have a handkerchief, you can kiss that dream goodbye. Not even the greatest combination of fabric softeners in the world (liquid, gels, dryer balls, sheets, reusable dryer cloths…you name it) could make your clothes comfortable again. Stone washed jeans of comfortable, but they ain’t got nothin’ on snot. Washing your clothes in snot is like upgrading your thumbtack covered chair to one that is made out of thorns – it just doesn’t make sense.

When we were kids everyone used to just rub their nose on their sweater sleeve or something and if it was summer, maybe you could just use your hand and it would dry off because it was hot or because you were a kid you were probably about to go running through the sprinkler in the yard and you never really actually needed a shower or bath because you just did fun things that cleaned you off and you didn’t understand why pooping in the pool was bad – but it was just funny…as long as it wasn’t you who actually did it. But then you grow up. And when you grow up you more or less understand science. So when you aren’t actually clean, you will at least you should be.

I realise that it’s mostly older people using handkerchiefs, maybe middle aged at the youngest. I understand the convenience of constantly having a nose-wipe at your ready disposal, perhaps in your breast pocket, maybe simply in your trouser pocket. But I think the revolution has begun - actually, it began nearly one hundred years ago. I just don’t understand why or how you can. You want to be healthy? You want to be clean? Environmentalists can complain about unnecessary waste all they like…but even they use Kleenex. After all, why would you want to carry around your cold when you could just throw it away?

Unbelievable - or Not.

2008-03-05T22:22:00.004-07:00

“I feel for you, but that feeling is nausea.”
- Charlie, to Allan - from a show I used to hate but now find myself watching fairly often

So if you had asked me on the weekend what I was going to write about, I would have told you with an extremely high level of confidence that this week’s post would be about the Alberta election, or could have broadened the topic and discussed how stupid provincial politics can be and voter apathy and Alberta PC dominance for the last 37 years…but that would be boring. This week’s cultural topic is:

STRESS

As poised, calm, confident and well-spoken as Ed Stelmach normally is, you’d better believe he was biting his nails when the polls closed at 8:00pm on Monday.

Of course, if you know Alberta politics, you’ll understand that, of course, I’m being a little facetious. BUT, low and behold, once again, Alberta opted BLUE and the Progressive Conservative Party of Alberta won another overwhelming number of seats to secure another term as majority leaders, beating the next closest adversary by 26% of the Popular Vote, or a margin of 63 seats. 72-9-2-0-0. That was the final score. If you think any politician any how involved anywhere in Alberta was NOT even SLIGHTLY stressed out on election day, you might be right; I don’t know ever politician. But they probably were.

Now, I’m no psychologist (hell, I never even took a single psychology class in university), but I can read. Stress is medically understood as a discrepancy in perception of person-environment interaction. So whether there is actually a different level of outside pressure or not, it is personal perception that actually makes the difference between a person who is stressed out or a person who is not.

Too lazy to write an entire paragraph explaining.
So, RESULTS OF STRESS AND THEIR NICKNAMES:
Stress-case. Whack-job. Mental. Couk. Crazy. Hysterical. Irrational. [Insert other synonym for person who is stressed out].

Yeah, but I think most people are pretty familiar with what stress is. We all get stressed. (I’m worried (but not stressed) about how lame this filler paragraph is probably going to be.) I get stressed by really stupid useless things but don’t typically let normally stressful things get to me. I think it’s because I’m a procrastinator by nature. And you all know what stresses me out; I’ve talked about them over the last month and a half: traffic, stupid people, stupid people in traffic, etc. And now that I actually think about, traffic actually just pisses the hell out of me more than it does stress me out, and I guess since there are no real long term effects of stress from sitting in traffic, (unless maybe you are in traffic at a really inopportune time like having to get to a super important meeting that if you miss you will also lose your job and you really like your job so the last thing you want is to lose it over the fact that people don’t know how to drive or merge or be smart)…so I don’t really get stressed about traffic itself. What stresses me is the fact that I have no control over the fact that other people just-don’t-get it. But I shouldn’t worry about that, because it’s impossible to control everyone. Hell, even Stelmach’s Conservatives only control 52% of the voters.
Zen is the opposite of stress. I used to think I was pretty zen, but I was wrong and that just pissed me off, which for obvious reasons is why I am clearly NOT zen, though I’d like a zen fountain for my house.

Most people hate getting mail, most often because its bills, or notices, or due date this or due date that. Lately it’s been tax forms: T4 this, T5 that, notice of assessment this, or RRSPs that. You still have almost two months to file. It’s nice writing these blog posts kind of whenever I want instead of how I used to have a set day I would normally post…not that I was ever REALLY stressed when I missed it. If you owe tax, that sucks. If you’re about to get some back, that’s great. But don’t worry. After all, even though it came in the mail, the last thing we want is someone going all postal.

And the Winner IS...

2008-02-24T14:44:00.010-07:00

Oscars tonight! Unfortunately, the winner is no one. There are so many things to write about the last couple of weeks and I’ve been pretty slack – and unfortunately for me, I picked up that slack today and so did everyone else. With the weather being so nice lately, everyone feeling summer and can’t wait for it to finally arrive. There is no winner this week because of this week’s cultural topic:

HURRY UP AND WAIT

The other day, I threw on the shades, cranked the tunes and drove all the way home with the car window down. Yup, just an average week in subtropical Calgary, AB. WHAT?! Thanks to Chinooks, Calgary gets the intermittent taste of springtime all winter long. A good thing? You’d better believe it. But I’ll complain about it anyway.

Q: But wait, Kai, what the hell does nice weather have anything to do with waiting?

A: Why do you think people get fat in the winter? Why don’t you see as many people walking around outside when it’s really cold out? Why don’t people go to the mountains when the weather is forecast cloudy, miserable and unpleasant? Simple: They all stay inside.

To avoid going outside, people must stay INSIDE. Thus when they are inside, they are NOT OUTSIDE. What this means is that when it’s nice, people DO go outside. When people leave their houses (or their rented houses/apartments/igloos) the OUTSIDE is BUSIER. And busier is bad for business…unless you’re talking about a non-figurative business in which case more business generally means more bottom line profits. Okay, that was a stupid thing to write, but I hate having to wait in line.

The biggest problem for me is that no matter how far ahead you plan there will always be someone else further ahead than you. Even if you get to the ski hill nice and early, there’s no guarantee you will be the first on the lift. If you get to the store, there’s no guarantee you will have the best parking stall. And in real life, just because you’ve been at a company the longest, doesn’t mean you’ll have the highest (or highest paying) position…though they all help. HOWEVER, if you get to the ski hill late, you will NOT be the first on the hill. If you get to the store an hour before closing you will NOT have a full selection of inventory to choose from. And if you arrive early at work and work diligently at your job…you may still be overlooked. Operations Managers all over the world are constantly figuring out ways to “alleviate the bottleneck”. Hey, Operations Managers - Bottleneck this! Get rid of people who get in my way of doing things efficiently.

There are some things, obvioulsy, that you can control in the little realm we'll call "waiting around" and, equally, some you cannot. And of course, as I do for most things that trouble me, I blame THIS epidemic on stupid people.

CAN CONTROL:
You can control what time you wake up in the morning.
You can control when you drive like a stupid moron.
You can control if you are lazy and just take the stairs two flights instead.
You can control how much time you do doing unproductive activities.
You can control how you react to stupid people.

CANNOT CONTROL:
You cannot control that sometimes the gondola will break down.
You cannot control that sometimes there will be an accident on the way to work.
You cannot control when the elevator will break down.
You cannot control the weather.
You cannot control stupid people around you.

The concept of hurry up and wait was initially formally introduced to me in a customs line up to reenter England at London Gatwick airport approximately one year ago as I was flying back Carnavale in Venice with some friends. This was also the same weekend that a group of girls said “We don’t have an accent!” – but they were stupid…and in front of me in line – but that’s neither here nor there. Bottom line is: if the cold weather could just continue long enough for me to finish all my chores, shopping and make it so that people are unmotivated enough to NOT make me wait in line, I would be able to make more time to write my blog…which would be great. So HURRY and STOP BEING SO STUPID SOMETIMES! Or take your time – you’ll probably have to wait anyway.

The Power of non-Sense

2008-02-10T20:11:00.000-07:00

It has recently come to my attention that I actually have readers again. In the year I was away, I would have been lucky to claim I had 5 regular readers. Nowadays, it’s impossible to know how many I have; educated guesses suggest we’re up to around 8. which, turns out, is more than can be said about most TV shows these days. This week’s cultural topic is:

FANATICISM

When you think of fanactics, what is the first thing that pops into mind? I’ve thought up a few but in the interest of keeping this thing interactive, if you think of any others, leave your mark in the comments section.

Sports

With the conclusion of this weekend’s NFL Pro-Bowl, American football is officially over for the season. Of course, no one actually cares about the pro-bowl, but with the devastating conclusion to last week’s historical Superbowl, it leaves us with nothing to watch on Sundays. So why do people care so much about sports? Professional sports bring communities together. Of course, there are always a few who decided to piss us all off and cheer for the bad-guys, like as if you can live in Calgary, where you also grew up, and end up truly liking the unsuccessful Edmonton Oilers. 1980s dynasty-schmynasty. But that’s exactly my point. That last sentence (now two sentences ago) was an outburst of trash-talking, which periodically will erupt between to passionate sports fans. You’ll probably never hear people yelling at the top of their lungs about a golfer missing a putt, or a tennis player not returning a volley, but even the biathlon amateurs have fans out there somewhere. International sporting becomes the most passionate, because fans are now not only supporting their favorite team, are also united in supporting their country.

People get superstitious about sporting events, dress up in funny clothing, put their life savings into games they have no control over, etc. The thing people have to realise however is that sports entertainment is just that; it’s entertainment. So you may get together with your friends three days a week to watch your team hoping they win, and in a way the game schedule will also dictate your social schedule, but if everyone could finally realise that when your team loses it is not the end of the world; that would be great. Thanks. Remember: There’s no shame in second place…unless the Oilers are ahead of you.

Music

Obviously, like in any other aspect in life, people have preferences, and whether they were acquired or whether they are ingrained genetically, different types of music appeal to different types of people. For the most part, people stick to their bases and enjoy similar artists or genres and may have offshoots, but the fact of the matter is anyone who tells you they like every kind of music is lying. Tolerance is a different story. But as they have historically, social movements and social trends are associated with music, be it protest music, psychedelic hippy music, or the current emo-punk movement. No one is going to be able to participate, as much as they might want to, in every single movement associated with every single music genre. Traditionally a rock-boy, I didn’t used to be a fan of country music, but then turned 18 and ended up a few nights at the late, great Cowboys Nightclub for some drinking and the twang became something I couldn’t be without. Then again, once in a while a specific band that you really dislike for whatever reason, say because they are the epitome of emo-rock – which I hate, comes along and comes out with a song that is universally appealing, and rather than immediately changing the radio station you have a lapse of good judgment and momentarily let your guard down just long enough for the tolerable musical stylings to enter into your world and during downtimes at work you find yourself clicking to youtube to listen to the song on your command, ie. MCR – Teenagers. Blech.

Television

This Film Writers Guild strike is becoming huge pain in my ass. Nothing new to talk about and no new quotable material on TV, I’m running on empty. Of course, I have no control over this, and don’t honestly know a lot about it, but the bottom line is this: Without new television, fans who week by week anxiously await their favorite network television programming are slowing finding interests in other activities and in the meantime are becoming more and more disconnected from pop-culture. People have to keep up with other things, like politics, or sports, or reality TV, or worse of all, reruns. Certain talk shows, namely late night talk shows, have convinced their staff to cross the picket lines and are actually paying out of their own pockets, (pockets most likely being a network-subsidized pocket), just so that they can give their fans fresh material. And who’s to blame? Well if you’re counting, you can definitely put this one on the union. These days you rarely hear “Hey, did you watch that new [insert show name] last night?”. And I miss it. Networks have resorted to an emergence of pilot shows – shows which have never otherwise been aired because they are lame and honestly, if there are no sports on, I’d sooner read a book than veg on the couch. Of course, video games are also played on the TV and are actually becoming really neat and sophisticated. Along with that comes online gaming and the whole idea of playing with people around the world is pretty dang cool. But even on the nerdiest of all gaming sites, you won’t be able to hear anyone talking about last week’s episode new Heroes… Basically, if video killed the radio star, unions killed the video. Unions also killed freewill, and capitalism, but that’s a subject probably better left for a different day.

Overall, whether examining all types of fanatics, be they emo-goths or union workers, everybody just wants to feel like they are a part of something. That something could be it as huge as a social revolution or as minute as two people in a friendship. People want to know that there are other like-minded people around them, whether that’s a preference for a certain television show, a sports team, or just sharing a taste in music. It’s amazing to think about millions of people all watching the same sporting event like the FIFA World Cup, or how a legendary recording artist like Paul McCartney can get 300 000 people together for a free show in Rome with one day’s notice.

But that’s the power of fanaticism. Good marketing helps too.

Curing Stupid

2008-01-31T20:11:00.000-07:00

Fact is, I would like to write about something happy, and nice, and be all bubbly about it, but something has come over me and straight up, I'm just frustrated with the overall situation. Snapshot: I wish I actually liked getting out of bed when the forecast high is -50C in the wind, but truth be told, I don't. So sue me. This long-time-coming-post's cultural topic is:

WINTER

In southern Alberta, we are blessed with a weather phenomenon known as "Chinook". These pacific winds travel over the Rocky Mountains depositing heaps of luscious and skiable snow in the beautiful, majestic Rocky Mountains. This week, however, the Chinook had it out for us. As a Northerly weather system came down into our fair prairies, the Chinook failed to make its necessary appearance. With great power comes great responsibility and unfortunately for anyone having to endure it, which great cold comes great pain in the ass factor. This week's post will be broken down (as are most peoples' cars) into subsections that will be condensed rants and will just get a lot of my chest.

DISCLAIMER: MAY BE FAIRLY INSULTING TO SOME, WEAK HEARTED READERS MAY CHOOSE NOT TO READ THE FOLLOWING SECTION.

Starting your car

Everybody knows that when it's cold you're supposed to plug in your car...if you want it to start. Maybe it's a subconscious thing, but people who need to, never do and the ones you plan properly end up being the ones who don't get stranded when the temperatures drop. It's called common sense (topic for a different day) and it shouldn't be taken lightly. Background info: Canadian cars are designed with what they call a "block heater" which heats the antifreeze/coolant in your engine "block". When the antifreeze is heated to above outside temperatures, the starter is able to turn over the engine more easily and thus, "start" the car. In order to engage the block heater, an electrical unit, the car must be connected to an electrical source, namely an electrical outlet, usually in the wall of your house or garage. So, connect the wall outlet to your car using an extension cord or if it is easier, plug the car's electrical cord directly into the wall. This will facilitate the starting of your car and prevent you having to call in sick or late to your job and will also ensure the prolonged life of your car and it's engine. The Number One Biggest Tip for making sure your car starts when you need it to: don't be a dumb-ass moron.

Shoveling the walk

If you own/rent/lease/squat/live somewhere with a sidewalk, as a citizen of earth, shoveling your walk is something you will have to do. If YOU don’t want to do it you can pay some kid down the street, or your roommate/partner/spouse/child, or maybe a “snow angel” aka. neighbour can do it, but it’s an inevitable fact of living where it snows. Number one reason old people have heart-attacks in the winter? Shoveling snow. So why do old people try to do it? Maybe it has to do with trying to feel young, or feel active, or maybe they’re just good people and that’s what good people do…they shovel their sidewalk. Afterall, people have to WALK on the sidewalk, otherwise they might just be called side-cement, or side-road if only small non-motorized vehicles were allowed on it, or sidecrawl or siderun if you were allowed to go on it but you weren’t allowed to walk so you either had to stay motionless or be on all-fours or be running or probably at least jogging (might be pronounced yogging…soft J). If you want to buy a snowblower that’s fine too…just get it done before it turns to ice. Ice is dangerous for old ladies. But old ladies won’t walk outside when it’s blowing wind and the day’s high is -50C. So yeah, you should do it, but don’t do it if frostbite is imminent and you will otherwise not make it to work on time. Tip: create a happy medium between inconsiderate jerk and good Samaritan. Save the old ladies.

Idiot drivers

“Honey, it’s cold out today – make sure you drive like a bigger retard than you normally do!” Hey, idiot drivers: This section is for you! And if you learn anything in this paragraph take it with you for the rest of the year as well. DON’T DRIVE LIKE A TOTAL MORON AND YOU WON’T CRASH YOUR CAR! Makes sense, doesn’t it? I don’t understand why people turn stupid when snow falls on the ground. Drive a little slower if you have to, but nothing in the world pisses me off more than when my commute into work is 3 times as long as normal just because I’ve been in traffic because some chromosomal defective person decides not to merge properly and suddenly the 80km/h flow has to slow to STOPPED. I am really passionate about this topic and my dangerous road rage potential goes up a notch pretty much every rush hour I drive in. People often joke about testing bad parents before they are able to conceive children. Well, I’m not joking when I talk about testing people for bloody common sense before they are allowed out of the house. The worst part about driving is that it can reduce IQ scores of perfectly normal, smart people by (guestimation) more than 60 points, putting even the brightest of geniuses into the mentally handicapped zones…which, sorry to say, doesn’t mean they are allowed to park in handicapped, or even worse, take up two large stalls at the same time. But unfortunately for many, bad driving can’t be blamed solely on the weather; I blame stupid.

I’d like to excuse most of my written deficiencies on typos, but some are just because you have a stupid lapse. I spelled the word “extension” wrong a few paragraphs ago and the No. 2 suggestion was “extent ion”. When anyone would need to write about ion extents, I don’t know. Maybe the writers of MS Word can discuss it with scientists who are currently looking for a cure for stupid. I suspect they’ll eventually find one…when hell freezes over.

Word up

2007-12-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve been on a roll lately hearing from people I used to hear from all the time. I guess it helps being on or around a computer 8 hours a day at work and then having the option to have another 4 hours in the evening. I came to realise quite early on in the history of this blog that I don’t and probably won’t ever have a really big fan base, which I suppose is fine and I guess since I’ve been not - not in Canada I’ve been pretty lazy in the whole blog posting thing. I’ve mostly concentrated on getting caught up with people I haven’t yet seen and as each week goes by I’ve gradually knocked a few off. This week’s cultural topic is:

RANTING

I can’t actually find a real definition for ranting, and that’s fine too, because I think the biggest thing there is to understand about ranting is that ranting comes form the heart, and when you’re heart’s not it in, there’s nothing to rant about.

I've been inspired a couple of times in the last little while about something to write but when I actually sit down to write something I just can't think about what it was I was inspired by. Do I have some sort of dementia? I don't think so. But I just can’t put my finger on it. I find myself sometimes mixing up simple English words with French ones, even though my native language is English. And even right now as I’m writing this, I’m kind of wondering where it might actually take me. Ranting turns into rambling and rambling just may not make sense.

I have to admit it, lately I haven’t been very good with the blog but that goes without saying. Hockey’s been on, football has taken over my Sundays and any rants I do come in the form of email or Facebook. I really like personal rants, but at the same time, there’s something gratifying about knowing that no one will read what you have to say but anyone could if they wanted to.

I never used to understand people who worked in offices all day and complained about always being on the computer blah blah blah and because of that didn’t want to work on computers on their own time at home. This is bunk. Sure, you sit at a desk all day, maybe you get up to get a coffee or hang out at the water cooler and of course you’ll have your time at lunch, but there is a HUGE difference between home computer and work computer. Like what? How about the liberty to do whatever you want whenever you want at home. Yeah, that’s a stupid thing to say, but that’s the point. Rants don’t have to make sense.

Blogging gives people like me the chance to put our ideas public. I think I have a pretty good format and if I weren’t me and I knew me or didn’t know me, I might think I might stop and take some time to read it. While I was away, I treated my blog like some sort of channel to entertain myself, maybe my friends, and I wrote as though I was writing an actual article and I created strict yet fake deadlines for myself to meet.

The thing is, you look at semi-celebrities, like Andy Rooney who has made a living ranting about stupid things. A couple of weeks ago I watched his rant which comes at the end of CBS’s 60 Minutes where he went on for 2 minutes about people carrying bags. Now, having said that, he IS really good at talking about something that doesn’t matter. Somehow, in that segment, he was able to incorporate street interviews with people who take books to work with them and somehow managed to accuse them all of reading on the job and wasting company time and money. That’s incredible.

Of course, most stand up comics talk about things that don’t really matter, observations if you will. Jerry Seinfeld pretty much dominated the observation realm in the 1990s, but it’s a comical fad that seems to be spreading. Most recently comics have put a spin on producing t-shirts or women drivers or being a man who doesn’t like working out. And they can all be funny. Of course, humour is a topic that can be discussed some other day, but the thing that I really hate hearing about from comics is them complaining about their wives or their kids or household pains. I don’t like it mostly because I can’t relate to it so for that reason it’s not funny. Seinfeld has now actually morphed into this type of show now and that’s fine too, because everyone grows up eventually, even adults.

As I’m writing this I’m contemplating not publishing it at all, because there’s no real reason for anyone to actually read it…that’s how much continuity it has in it. But that’s the point of ranting about ranting. Ranting doesn’t actually need make sense and if it DID make sense then it wouldn’t be ranting, it would be a well-planned writing. But that’s a rant for a different day…

Could have talked about it

2007-11-08T18:35:00.000-07:00

Well, over the past few weeks, a few major things have happened that greatly influence the way I conduct my day to day life. First off, I got back to Canada, which put an end to my international wandering. Second, I searched for and shortly after got a job. Third, I reinstalled non-free television in the place where I live. This week's cultural topic is:

NORMALCY

Now, things are seemingly pretty normal in my life these days. But what is normal? I'm not really sure. Could be mobility; could be stationary. I could probably go on for a while about how great it is to be re-situated, get back to the things I grew up with, how glad I am to be back in Calgary with all of my friends and parents and how I love to drive my gas-guzzling sport utility vehicle with optional four wheel drive...just in case.

I could talk about routine and or earning money, or dressing nice for work every day, or how much I've already learned in just a short period of time, or how great my new workmates seem to be after hanging out with them for a week, or how my job is going to take me off-site soon and which I won't necessarily be hanging out with them all day in a few weeks, or how even though I thought I did really really poorly, I scored "Proficient" in most of the tests I took after I was hired even though normal people would have had to take them before they were even considered.

I could talk about my plans for the weekend or maybe how nice the weather has been, even though it really hasn't been that nice and even though I love snow, how I'm glad it's not dumping snow because it already gets dark early enough in the evening and we don't need anymore winter darkness, or how I hate the fact that we had to put the clocks back one week later this year which didn't give me an extra hour or sleep on the halloween-night-out night that I would have been, under normal circumstances/in any other year past, the most beneficial extra hour of sleep one could possibly ask for, but you can't change the past and you can't really blame anyone for that - except the Bush administration, who were the ones who changed it.

Or, I could just cut to the case and bring it all back around. This post has really only one point to make, and by point I mean rhetorical question to ask anyone who locks their laptops in one spot and never moves it feel stupid, which isn't to say that you can't have a normal/regular spot to put it on, like a desk or a table or something and if you don't, you might as well just get a desktop, but seriously:

What the hell good is a laptop if you never put it on your lap?

Idiots.

Missing Out

2007-10-22T11:52:00.000-06:00

“…His nails a' clicking on the floor…” – The Remy Song

I’ve finally decided, after just over two weeks being back, that it’s nice to be home. For the past couple of weeks I was hesitant to admit it, but it’s occurred to me that being a nomad, causes you to miss out on many simple pleasures and some very important events. This post’s cultural topic is:

LOSING A PET
I was often asked in my travels what I missed most about home. The answer was simple: my dogs. This is why, when I got back to London only to find out that my mom’s little dog, Remy, was very sick with adrenal and lung cancer, it was an easy choice to come home earlier than planned. I made it back with just days left in his life. I’ve been trying for the past week to think about how I can properly word this post and though this is my first actual attempt at actually writing something down, I’ve come to realise that it’s just not going to be possible.

Two weeks ago, Canadian Thanksgiving Day, we drove down to a previously unvisited veterinary clinic in the south of the city with our smallest little boy in the family (just over 10 years old and just less than 20 lbs). Everyone in the car was crying and for one of the first times ever, Remy was calm as the car slowed down and pulled into the parking lot. His breathing was laboured, as it had been in the preceding weeks, and though he hadn’t eaten anything all day, he happily got out of the car and peed on some pillars and a small tree. That morning he wouldn’t even eat fresh meat, but in his last minutes, despite his sickness, he did not hesitate to munch on a Milkbone, his favorite treat. Even until his last breath, he saw us with an everlasting and reciprocated love.

Studies show that dogs have a really good understanding of their surroundings and some suggest that dogs have an equivalent comprehension level of a 5-7 year old child. But being animals, dogs also rely heavily on instinct and because of this, seem to be able to foresee certain events. Because dogs cannot talk, however, it is impossible to know for sure what they think about, how they feel, or whether they are in pain due to illness.

For most people, losing a pet is as tragic as losing a human member of the family. I’ve now lost three pets, but I think Remy was the one that hit me the hardest and think it’s because I have the best memories with him.

We adopted Joey when he was already 9 years old and he had a hard life, but he was epileptic and just one year after we got him his disease got the best of him. He, too, was very loyal and craved attention. Golden retrievers are known for having great demeanors and Joey was no exception. The second was my step-mom’s Yorkshire terrier, Bijou, who at less than 4 lbs had the attitude of a big dog, but the non-threatening bite of a little one. She only liked a handful of people in the world (myself, luckily, being one of them) and I’ll always remember the way she would do a cartoon-like shuffle on the terrifying hardwood floors as she mustered the courage to scurry from room-to-room.

But Remy was my little guy. I knew him right from the start and was there from the first time he learned to shake-a-paw to the time he became the supreme ruler of his house. Remy’s personality was one that is unrivaled by any other dog I have met. He was like a little boy who just walked around on four feet, was covered in mountain-goat hair and liked to sniff dog’s butts when they came around to the house. I can’t do him justice in explaining how great of a little friend he could be when you were sick, tired or just lazing around. He was always there (except for when he was eating Kleenex from the garbage) and he though he was mostly obedient, he, just like a real boy, could be stubborn when he wanted to be. My mom always joked that she wouldn’t be surprised if he just one day just got up and started talking. And that’s because Remy wasn’t just a dog, he was real member of the family.

In the past two weeks it’s been a much different welcome party at my mom’s house. The people still say hello, but no little thing comes crashing to the door only to roll onto his back and make you pat his little pink belly. It’s strange to think that only a month ago we didn’t know anything was wrong and now two weeks after he’s been gone, so many things have changed. One thing, though, will never change: the love and great memories we will always have and hold because of the silly little dog-boy who has been one of the most important things in our lives for the past ten and half years.

Thanks to everyone who has supported us, especially my mom, over the past weeks. Thank you also for all the notes, cards, and emails. But more than all, thanks to everyone who has helped us give Remy a great doggy-life.

See you later, little-guy.

Who says you can’t go home?

2007-10-10T16:55:00.000-06:00

For the past 5 months, I’ve been woken up by the sweet sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd, and though it’s a really good song, it got a little repetitive. I’m lucky, though, that Sweet Home Alabama was the tireless longevity that it does, otherwise as the clock struck whatever time I set it to go off, I could find myself wanting to beat myself in the face with my tent poles. This week’s cultural topic is:

COMING HOME

When you take a long trip you come home for a only a few reasons. Maybe it’s been a year and your ticket is up. Maybe you’re broke and your credit cards are maxed out. Maybe you just didn’t bring enough warm clothing with you and because you’re too lazy you’d rather go home than buy new ones. Or maybe you’re just tired. But no matter the reason for returning home, one thing always stays the same. Relief.

I’ve taken a number of long trips (that number is 3), of course none as long as my latest of 5 months, but whenever I’ve gotten home it seems like I’ve grown up or experienced something so special. This time I was gone for nearly a year, which in the grand scheme of my life is a pretty significant chunk of time. The thing you have to realise coming home is that though you may have changed, things you were used to before you left probably aren’t that much different than they were. Most people have the same jobs, the same problems, the same girl/boyfriends, same cars, etc. But what you have to understand is that they probably won’t be as excited about your trip as you are. Sure, they’ll be happy you’re back, especially your good friends, but don’t be offended if they don’t want to hear every gritty detail of your last year.

I say this now, but it seems as though another chapter in my life is coming to an end. I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve met people in the past trips who have been on the road for years and years in search of something they probably won’t ever find. That’s because they don’t know what they’re even looking for. I had no idea what I was looking for either, and that’s what makes the “soul-searching” more interesting. It think I’ve decided where my heart is, and I guess what that means is that from here on in, I just have to make sure potential employers understand it the way I do.

In 2006, Bon Jovi ft. Sugarland released a single talking about running away from home, but ultimately finding what you were looking for right where you left it. It bothers me so much when I hear about people being ashamed of where they are from and it bugs me even more when foreigners disrespect a person based on where they’re from. I proudly call Canada my home and after being away I’ve been able to reinforce my appreciation for having grown up in such a nice country. Now, I’m not an idealist or an activist on the matter, but it would be great if we could all just get along and welcome each other home…wherever that may be.

Sorry for the delay

2007-10-04T03:20:00.001-06:00

"At least try" - Markus

Well, first off, I'd like to apologize for the delay in posting. Stating that I've been one the road the past couple of weeks would be a drastic understatement, sleeping in hostels, friends houses, cars, campsites, there are many stories to be told. I'm back in London, but now I'm headed home. A couple of posts ago, I talked about how much I hated pigeons, and just so you know, I successfully kicked one. This monumental event took place in Stuttgart, Germany last week. This week's cultural topic is:

PLAYING IT BY EAR

Now, obviously this could be a post about music and how great music is and improvisation and how much I and many others would love to be part of something great like a world famous rock and roll band and rise to the peak of stardom...but it's not. This is the kind of improvisation you use in life, more specifically, in traveling.

I've been gone from home for nearly a year now and with my return this afternoon, this Europe chapter in my life is coming to an end. Have I matured? Probably a little, which is for the best, since I just recently acquired "mid-twenties" status.

I don't know if i can really do this topic justice in this short amount of time I have before I have to run around London sorting out many last minute things before I havce to catch my flight, and I suppose maturity is a topic on it's own. I also wonder if I'll continue to post once I'm back, since I'm not so not in canada anymore. But I'll try.

The entire past year I have basically just been playing it by ear, rolling with the punches, going with the flow, whatever you want to call it. It's been an easy-going existence with many different types of payouts. The main ones being friendships, experiences, and obviously memories, which will hopefully be long lasting and will lead to further payouts. But it doesn't feel like it's been a year, and because I'm just been playing it by ear, I've never really had to plan ahead too far, never really bothered to stress out about anything, and certainly never worried about shit I couldn't control.

Traveling the way I did/do leaves so many opportunities to experience things in way you never would have otherwise. I think it's good that the countries of Europe have designed types of "experience Europe" programs like Eurail or Interrail, but I also find that it's unfortunate people use them. When you lay out months of travel and they are all prebooked, there is no room for interpretation. If you like a place, you can't stay. If you don't like a place, you can't really leave. It's nice to have an idea of what you're doing before you take a trip, but I find it very unstimulating to be on the road after only one night in a place. So in a way, I'm happy for the people for getting out and a getting a taste for what other countries are like, but at the same time, it's too bad they don't really ever get to really know what it's like to BE there.

Am I grateful I have been so fortunate to have had the opportunity to do something like take a year off? You better bet your boots I am. I am also grateful to have had the opportunity to do it in a way that most people I know would never even consider, and I am even more grateful for this. Remember, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish nearly anything. So at least try.

Always on the Run

2007-09-20T10:56:00.000-06:00

I'm sure everyone by now, of the few regular readers I have, are sick and tired of me complaining about the random, different, always changing keyboards they have in all different countries. Well, let me tell you, if you thought Germany was going to be any better, you have another thing coming. Ä, Ö, µ, and ß are just a few of the keys that we don't have, mostly because we don't have those letters in English, and though they get in the way of what is normal typing for me, they make sense in their respective languages. The one thing I HAVE noticed, though, is the common switching of Y and Z, and that only just proves that I've tried keyboards in many countries, this week's cultural topic is:

MEETING DEADLINES

With Canadian Universities gone back last week and Europeans about to go back over the next couple, deadlines seem to be popping up out of nowhere these days. I realise, yes, that I failed to meet my latest deadline of posting at least every Monday, so for those who check in regularly, my apologies. I've been making my way around the Czech Republic this past week, with an obvious stop in Prague and a second one in the home of Pilsner Urquell (the oldest Pilsner in the world), Plzen, where I stayed with a friend and didn't have internet...or even running water. It was fun.

There are two main types of deadlines, really: the kind that are for fun, which don't really matter and the kind that actually matter. The kind that matter, for example are ones where money is at stake, or pride, or something of substance. This might be like submitting a multi-billion dollar proposal to a client, or showing up for an exam, or making a flight on time, or whatever else that can actually affect the rest of your life of somebody else's in a huge way. Fun deadlines are like the ones that I make to make sure I write a little bit every week. In fact, this blog has had more action in the last month than my journal, which goes to show, I suppose, that I've been too busy making friends and surviving the travelers life.

This whole trip for me has been virutally unplanned up until now. I've been working my way along a general route, but when I find somewhere I really like, I stay for a while. A few months ago, I had all the time in the world, and the only real deadline I had to meet was a figurative one, which said that I couldn't run out of money. When the money's out, the deadline is therefore past. So aside from the bank balance, there has only really been one other deadline that I've been working towards. That is Oktoberfest. I've met so many folks in the past weeks and they all, like me, seem to be working towards the same goal. Survive, drink a lot, go home.

This time, though, I've managed to round up a friend from Calgary to come join the debauchery. So, my deadline is meet him. The hostel I check into tomorrow is the first that I've had booked ahead in the entirety of my trip, so I'm really looking forward to facing the real world once again.

That being said, beer is a diuretic. What this means is that it dehydrates your body, sending more water to your muscles, and as you drink more beer this is why you feel bloated. The problem, however, is that since your blatter is a muscle, it contracts the more a diuretic substance is intaken. Since beer is primarily water (average strength = 95% water, 5% alcohol), the average blatter has only a 600ml capacity (less when in frequent use) and at Oktoberfest the average size of a beer 1l, the deadline we will most often be faced with over the next couple of weeks? Not peeing our pants.

The Clay kind are better

2007-09-10T09:44:00.000-06:00

"It´s not that I want to kill her, I just wish she wasn´t alive...anymore." - Stewie Griffin

It´s funny for me to think that only one week ago I was in Croatia soaking up the sun, desperately getting as dark as the sun would let me before I headed north into the mountains, but in one week you can do a lot and cover a lot of ground. This past week I ticked north-western Slovenia off the list and now I´m on my second day in Salzburg. As you walk down the streets of Mozart´s hometown (until age 24), streets are littered with everything Mozart. But he´s not Salzburg´s only claim to fame. The Sound of Music, of course, where, in 1965 Julie Andrews taught us all a song to help us remember our doe-rei-mi´s, which brings us to the cultural topic of the week:

PIGEONS

I hate them. I really just don´t understand why anyone could have any reason to like them either. They´re dirty; they´re ugly; they don´ßt sound nice when they caw; they scavenge; and they are inefficient flyers. In some areas, pigeons are considered vermin. People are strongly encouraged not to feed them and they are often compared to the likes of rats...with wings. I would have liked to have a picture of one of them for this post, but I can´t be bothered to waste a photo on one of them.

I WILL say it IS good to be back in the mountains, since there aren´t quite as many pigeons around. They tend to hang out in bigger cities where there are more stupid tourists to feed them. I guess that´s kind of the thing. If someone feed a pigeon or two here or there it doesn´t really matter to them, because they aren´t actually directly affected by it unless they do it in their own home. I saw some people doing it today and it really pissed me off. I suppose, however, I used to feed seagulls and sparrows and other little birds (Trivia bit: Sparrows are not native to North America. They were brought over by the explorers as pets and since they had no natural preditors, were able to flourish...I imagine it´s the same with whatever kind of devil bird pigeons come from), but they are at least big birds and raptor-like, respectively.

In London, they say that you are never at any time more than 10m away from a rat. I never actually saw any while I was there, but a habit I DID pick up was attempting to kick pigeons as I walked by. Now, this may sound mean, but it´s absolutely necessary, kind of like having to eat a horseburger in eastern Europe...you just do what you gotta do. For the animal activists out there, though, I have never successfully hit one. I´d feel bad if I seriously injured it or whatever, so I like to give them a bit of a chance to not get hit. It´s not that I was them dead, I just don´t want them to be around me. Ever.

Remember that scene from Mary Poppins when they go to the bank and there´s that pigeon lady and it´s all emotional and the kids sing a song? Well, Julie Andrews was in Mary Poppins, just as she was in the Sound of Music (different character, of course)and she was one hell of singer in both, so much so that she even brought the hills life here in Austria. Having said that, though, I would sing praise to anyone who does the opposite to all the pigeons.

Setting Sails

2007-09-03T02:55:00.000-06:00

Q: Why are pirates pirates?
A: Because they ARRRRRR.

For the past week or so, I've been in Croatia. This is the second time I've been on the internet since I arrived, and it's the first time I've found the apostrophe key on the keyboard. It's not that I'm not smart, it's just that every country has their own different keyboard that better suits the way their own writing goes and uncommon letters are placed in the less reachable areas. I told you that story to tell you this one, which is the cultural topic of the week:

PIRATES

Being on the coast and seeing millions of dollars worth of boats, yachts and massive ships makes you want one. I don't know how to sail, I don't know anything about boats, I don't normally live on the ocean, I get seasick easily, and I don't know what the conversion is from nautical miles to normal ground speed. So why a prairie boy like me would want to be a pirate is questionable. But when it comes down to it, I think it's really everyone's dream to sail the world in their own private yacht.

In the open ocean, if you find an abandoned boat, it's yours...sort of like squatters rights, only with boats instead of houses. International I've been hanging out with 5 other people for about the last week and I think a six person crew would be a pretty good size crew to start out our pirating with. One day we all rented a boat (funny that it was coincidentally the only day it had rained in Croatia since sometime in May) and I suggested, as a proper pirate captain would, that we just roll (or rather float) over to a yacht and just claim it as our own. Apparently, however, there are legal implications involved, so we opted to not become international criminals and left most other boats alone.

It's strange to think about movies about pirates and how the good guys are actually the bad guys and the bad guys are the ones you cheer for. In France (and perhaps other countries as well) there was an entire comic book series around Jack Sparrow, the great pirate captain of the Black Pearl. People talking about violence on television and how it affects children behaviour is one thing...but teaching them that being a pirate is cool?

When it comes down to it, pirates are criminals. I have a moral dilemma every time that I deliberately do something like having taken a pint glass from a pub (which are not particularly good investments, since they always break in about 3 weeks and the risk of being caught are fairly good. I suppose I download music from the internet which is not totally ethical, but that's different. The problem is I really want a boat, but to have any sort of boat worth having, it costs too much, so that's why being a pirate would be a logical first step. But for every action there is an equal and opposite RE-action - which means that for every boat I would steal, someone would lose one. I've had my camera stolen before and it's probably the worst feeling ever, so I can't even imagine what it would be like to have something worth about 200 000 times the value stolen, no matter how much I would want one or even needed one.

Moral of the story is, even if I DID steal...no - Pirate - a boat, it would become pretty much useless, since I'm headed inland from here anyway. Plus, I don't have a crew anymore. Plus, I don't have a little boat to tow behind. Plus, I don't have a gun to hold up boats with. All valid reasons why I shouldn't be a pirate. But I have to say, I really with the Croatians would just get with the program and switch the Z and Y keys to where they should be. Maybe I'll steal them some proper English keyboards.

Seeing things a little darker

2007-08-25T10:44:00.000-06:00

"Ah, there they are..."
- Mike Moussa, as I put on my Oakley Spikes on a sunny afternoon on the Thames

I realise now that a beach update was probably wasn't overly fulfilling last weekend, especially because I wasn't even on the beach, nor did I have plans to go to the beach directly from there, (though I DID make it to Sorrento whose beaches were more like jetis and I found one this afternoon in Bari) but I can turn this one around. When you want to go sun on the beach, what do you need? Probably a towel, a hat, a swimming suit, an umbrella if it's really hot out...and of course, this week's cultural topic of the week:

BIG SUNGLASSES

Today is my last day in Italy, which is fitting, since no one cares more about their looks than the Italians. You can probably outfit ourself in a brand new Armani or Versace outfit and you might compete with everyone looking their coolest in their Dolce & Gabbana bandanas and swimtrunks, but then one thing they'll always have you beat on in the glasses. After all, la bella figura needs to be accessorised...

I often get flack for having 'bigger than normal' sunglasses and I'd like to think I know sunglasses pretty well. I have probably over 20 pairs (all but one are really cheap) and as such am fairly critical of people who wear sunglasses that either don't fit their faces, are too little or too big or just don't suit what they're being worn with... I go through stints of purchasing sunglasses and believe you me, it can be an expensive, yet stylish habit.

I like big sunglasses because, when push comes to shove and we're all telling the truth, I have big head and a fairly wide face. If I didn't have big sunglasses I would look like one of those idiots who wears sunglasses that SHOULD fit his face but don't, and that's one of my big fears. Big sunglasses have purpose too, not only do they block the sun, but they block MORE of the sun. Coverage is important in not burning your retinas and becoming temporarily or permanently blind.

I have one pair of blue sunglasses that are pretty small, not too small, but when I've worn them I've been accused of being 'matrix'. I used to have a pair of glasses that one of my bosses told me made me look like Rock Hudson (whether that's a good thing or not, I don't know...). I've been accused of 'Elvis-ing' before also, while I had big ones on and I was trying to grow out my sideburns. I once had a red tinted pair for snowboarding when it was too warm for goggles that turned out to be womens' biking glasses. But I didn't really care. Any women who wore those would have had to have pretty bad taste.

The thing I love most about sunglasses is that the just turn down the world one notch. It can be bright as hell and you just pop on whatever tint sunglasses you think might fit. Yellow makes the world brighter, blue slows it down. Brown or black turn it down a little and redish/purple let you know when you or your friends are burning 30 minutes before it's too late. I don't personally like polarised glasses, but they're all the rage if you're fishing or walking along a hot ashfalt road. Mirrored sunglasses are cool to an extent, but if you really need to check out how you look more often than you can just by walking by a car and taking a quick glance, you should just get a real mirror, put it in your pocket and take it out every five minutes...just like the Italians do.

On the fly

2007-08-19T10:03:00.000-06:00

It didn't take much, but I realised the other day that I've had quite the exciting past week. Granted, I suppose I've had a pretty exciting past few months, but that's not the issue here. In just under two weeks, I've been in 6 countries, including (of course) the two smallest sovereign nations in the world, Monaco and The Vatican City and including the country of Andorra, which many people have not even ever heard of. Pretty cool, I reckon. But overall, this tour of homelessness that I've been running around on seems to have one central theme, which is this week's travel topic:

BEACH TIME

Note: Unfortunately, due to technical difficulties, this post will not include photos, though being on the beach is definitely enhanced by having a nice view, so that I could actually show you, the audience, how nice the beaches just actually are. But here's a recap of the big beach stays that I've had over the duration of my time in Europe to this point.

La Rochelle, France
This is a historical port town, boasting three main beaches, but mostly surrounded by large rocks and constructed walls. The main point of the town is the two towers that lead to the main port, where not so expensive boats are housed. This is not to say, of course, that I wouldn't want any of these boats, because I would, and we contemplated pirating many-a-vessel while we were eating canned tuna and bread near the main area of the port. The beaches in La Rochelle are small, artificial and fairly difficult to get to by foot, but since we were walking everywhere at the time in an attempt to be cool and economical, we found no problem in it.

Biarritz, France
Say Biarritz and most french people will say something along the lines of 'Oh, vous faites du surf?' and we say, 'Yeah, maybe a little'. People come from all over France and the world (including European Surf Championships which are held there every year in late summer) to hang out on the long, rugged beaches. The sand is soft, the beaches picturesque and often given the extra bonus of a few massive rocks to give you something to look at while basking in the sun. The only unfortunate part about the beach is that it doesn't actually run all the way down from the south beaches to the main casino beach in the centre of town. The other unfortunate part (which also plagues the rest of Atlantic Europe)...COLD WATER.

Random Beaches between Biarritz and San Sebastian. Nice.

San Sebastian, Spain
Probably the most picturesque city on the nothern coast of Spain (that we saw), with three huge and constantly packed beaches. Hot Spanish women, and a big hill that you can climb up to and see the whole town, with a big statue of the virgin mary that seems to float in the night as they light it up.

Bilbao, Spain.
Contrary to popular belief, there are no beaches here. Sorry, folks. They DO have a Gugenheim Museum which we didn't see though.

Finisterre, Spain
Most people don't go here, so, as you might expect, the beaches are not busy. Nearly private beaches with beautiful weather and good friends. Good times.

Porto, Portugal
There are not actually beaches IN TOWN, but take a bus for 20 minutes and you've got 6km of sweetness. We did nearly a week soaking up the sun here in Madalena Sur, but if you don't make it out of town, make sure to try some Port, right from the source.

Lisbon, Portugal
Once again, though it would seem so on the map and contrary to popular belief, there are no beaches here. Nice city, but not as appealing to me as everyone would make you believe. As you go further south, the Atlantic, though cold, gets just a little more tolerable...enough so that you can probably swim for 3-4 minutes before it was just too damn cold.

Lagos, Portugal
Beautiful. Excellent. Can't say enough good things about this town. The campground is a skip away from the town, the town is confusing, and all you hear are English and Australians. But, that's the price you pay to go out and party all night, booze cruise on Saturdays and recover the next day on a beach surrounded by really really really cool grottos.

Tangier, Morocco
Weird. This was my first ever time in an Arab country and the differences compared to Spain and Portugal were vast. Coming from Spain it is uncommon to not see topless women making sure they get evenly dispursed tan across everywhere and doing everything in their power not to have nasty tan lines. In Morocco, however, you would be hardpressed to even SEE a woman on the beach, let alone in anything revealing. Soft sand though.

Tarifa, Spain
The windsurfing and kitesurfing capital of Spain. Tons of people stay here for weeks, I was there just for a day, but you better believe I liked it. With over 10km of beach just 100m from the centre of town, pretty cool place to make a stop in for.

Barcelona, Spain
I didn't, as you would call it 'hit' the beach in Barcelona, since my main goal was to not have my camera or wallet stolen, but I DID walk along it and unfortunately for the people of Barcelona, it was a stinky one. But it looked nice and the sun was hot. The water was a little rough, but most people looked as though they were having a pretty good time splashing around.

Cote D'Azur, France
I don't want to sound too cliche and say something stupid like 'Nice is nice', but I can understand why someone would. Though the beach is made completely of rocks, pebbles, I suppose, it's where most people head right away and it's where you'd better bet that I did the same. Tons of families, tons of couples and just as many singles. I made it to do some beach time in all of Monaco, Nice, Cannes and the lesser stopped in town of Antibes, all of which were sand, save for Nice. But we're not really sure if the sand was brought in, or if it's actually supposed to be like that naturally. And there's no way to know...

Rome, Italy
Yes, there are beaches here, but no, I did not go, nor will I. Crazy bus system here in this city.

Headed from here to check out some more beaches in beautiful Croatia, so we'll see if they can stand up to their reputation. Fingers crossed. But, even if they're not, one thing's for sure. They will all be warmer than the Atlantic.

Framing It Up

2007-08-11T12:56:00.000-06:00

"You can take pictures of landscapes to show your mom everywhere you´ve been..."

Have you ever used a computer that was not your own and even though you are a pretty good typer normally the keyboard just makes you look stupid? Like maybe the backspace key is only half the size it should be, maybe the keys don´t rebound as much as normal or maybe half the keys stick, because it´s just an overall crappy keyboard...well, that´s what´s happening right now so maybe excuse any typos that might come up. Well, aside from the fact that every European country´s keyboard is slightly different (or in France´s case - VERY different) from the English/American (yes, Canadians fit in this category), this week´s topic is:

PHOTOGRAPHY

So over the past week I´ve been hopping around a great deal, and the distance I covered in Portugal over about two weeks was covered in one long over night bus from Sevilla, Spain to Barcelona and two just two days later into the mountain state/nation/principality - country of Andorra. If you´ve never heard of Andorra, don´t worry too much. It´s a country of about 450 sq km and is only home to 76 000 people. If you want more information you´d best ask wikipedia or something because this post is about taking pictures, not about small principalities that are renouned for skiing, hiking and shopping and sub-European prices because of many tax and duty exemptions they are allowed because of their small status in the EU.
Andorra

So anyway, in a big tourist city, like Barcelona (for a recent example), you see tourist snapping pictures of this and that (that is, if they didn´t get it robbed walking around), some with really nice cameras, some with little ones, some with big ones, some with disposable (which is something I just don´t get seeing as how for the price of a disposable camera and developing and then having to buy another one next week, you could have just bought yourself a loosable digital one...and that´s not disrespecting film either, because with film cameras you can still take much better pictures than you could with some crappy little disposable thing), and then the thing is that you know some are taking really nice ones and some are just taking photos of things they think you should take photos of.
I often get made fun of for "going Japanese" and taking pictures of everything I see (which is also funny because for those of you who had no idea, I´m half...I know, it probably comes as a surprise). But anyway, even in the midst of flashing the flash (inadvertant use of the word flash twice in one sentence) of my own camera (which was graciously given to me before my big trip), I realised that photographs, though many people take pictures of the same things at the same with the same thing in mind, will never be duplicated (sort of like no two snowflakes being the same). But snow was the last thing on my mind as I walked through the streets of Barcelona.

Morocco

So many people with their little cameras (and sometimes I´m guilty of this as well) try to get all artsy with their photos and take shots of close-up flowers or bugs or whatever and blur the background and are really proud of it. Unfortunately, until this trip, most of my travel pictures were all of landscapes, which were nice (not that I´m an expert photographer, but I consider blowing up many photos I take), but once I realised that just like any good party, it´s who you´re with when you´re on the road as much as it is where you were (though a good venue is always good as well), so I´ve tried to get that "human aspect" in it these days too. (That´s one thing that make action shots so fun.) A professional photographer reaffirmed those thoughts for me a couple days ago, just after he almost had his 10000€ worth of equipment stolen while he was eating lunch at a cafe in Barcelona. But, he said, the most important part is a healthy balance.
Spanish Mediterranean Beach

Anyway, seeing everyone snap at this and that always makes me wonder what their pictures end up looking like on the big screen and it´s always a pleasure to have the opportunity to see how other people have seen the world. It´s funny how you can stand right next to someone while they take a picture and though you can capture the scene, it will envoke different memories in everyone when they flip back through downd the road. Do you ever read a book, or rather a page from a book and when you get to the end realise that you were not paying attention at all, and then have to reread the entire page? Well, people take pictures so that when they go on through their lives and forget something, they won´t have to redo the entire trip over again just to see something for a second, third, etc, time...because that could become expensive.
Central Northern Spain

Anyway, this photographer guy wanted to make it clear that, in fact, `Photography is art, too.´ So there you go. By the way, everyone always talks about how beautiful the city is and so on, so going into Barcelona I was kind of skeptical, pessimistic, almost. And let me tell you. It really IS beautiful. Unfortunately for those who have not been there, my pictures did not accurately capture its entire beauty.

Shake it like a Polaroid Picture

2007-08-06T05:42:00.000-06:00

"Where are you from?"
"How long you been here?"
"Where are you coming from?"
"How long are you staying for?"
"How long are you traveling for all together?"
"Oh, by the way, my name is Kai."

So this morning as I woke up in Morocco at 530am to make the ferry crossing, only to miss the bus that would have taken me out of the quaint Spanish coastal town of Tarifa, I realised that I have now been on the road for more than 12 weeks. Impressive, no? So as I was sitting on the beach contemplating actually making out to finding the internet cafe, my mind was overacting, while at the same time drawing a blank. Then it came to me. Traveling alone helps you meet many people, but you find yourself telling the same story day in, day out. So, this week´s topic is:

HIGHLIGHTS

It seems strange to do a highlights issue having only done just over half of the trip and having so much more to see, but since I've already cleared out a bunch of space on my memory card on my camera, added photos to Facebook, and already made three cds of photos, I guess it´s fitting to do so on my "non day-to-day" website. So where to start?

France. The highlights of this month began the first time we set up the tent. Wild camping is...well, wild. After testing out our legs in a short three day trek in the Val de Loire. The goal of the entire Europe trip for Dale and me was to do something
that most people just don´t do, while at the same time hitting all the spots normal people would as well. The first time we got the tent up was a really amazing feeling.

"Normal people have normal stories." - Luth Roose

France 2. Actually making friends for the first time. Sure, the company of one person can be rewarding and enjoyable, but at the same time, can leave you without new topics to discuss. The first time the Swedish bunch came out and said "hey, we´re going to the bar, you wanna come?" we couldn´t help but cry out with glee..."yeah, I do." BBQing is also sweet, but that topic´s been covered.

"When Chuck Norris jumps into a pool he does not get wet. The pool gets Chuck Norris." - Markus, though he did not make it up, made us laugh for minutes

Spain. Obviously, the Camino is uncontended when it comes to the official highlight of the trip. In fact, that´s hands down probably the coolest thing I´ve done thus far. I think about the camino all the time and am forever grateful that I had the time and opportunity to do it.I walked up a mountain the other day in Morocco and the views were unbelievable, but there´s just something about walking for 30some days in a row that blows day hikes out of the water. Obviously the people we´d met and the things we saw won´t soon be forgotten and the running of the bulls was also pretty cool to be a part of. Tons of parties along the way, including an unforgettable performance by Los Ronaldos, a Spanish high energy blues rock group in Leon and learning random german words with no way to actually use them in a sentence, ie. Ha-schneidemachine.

"Chicks don´t HAVE to be hot to love them...but it helps." - Dale Vaughn

Portugal. I was in Portugal for nearly two weeks all together, mostly spent on the beach just outside Porto. Though booze cruises and pub crawls in Lagos, port tasting and riverfront dinners in Porto and being offered fake hash right in front of cops in the streets of Lisbon are all cool, the best part for me going into to Portugal was the fact that crossing over the Spanish border, there was a sign that said "Portugal". Walking from France into Spain there wasn´t so much as a Bienvenido. All that happened was that the signs changed language and having not practised in about 5 and 2 years, Dale and I, respectively were confused beyond all belief.

"What, do you think you're tough or something?" - everyone who saw our packs

Morocco. Walking up a mountain by myself. But also going on public transit, which actually applies to almost every country I have been to. I always scope out the crowd as we get onto the bus, or the train and usually you can spot at least one of two backpacks which don´t cry "local". A fun game to play is the "who´s not a local" game as you walk down the street. It´s more fun with two people. But when a bus ride is more than about an hour, you can usually assume that at least most people around you are not making a daily commute (save for maybe the bus driver), which means they are probably on vacation, or WERE on vacation, at the least. But the biggest difference between their vacation any my vacation has one overlying factor, which is that when I looked around on the ferry this morning, almost everyone was wearing clearn clothes...something that only takes place in my dreams. Today, actually, I´m doing pretty well, sporting "clean" (washed) socks, brand new underwear, and a shirt that I´ve probably only worn for two-half days. My shorts? Are relatively clean, though relative is, well, (compared to the last three weeks on the camino I went without washing them) relative. But who´s counting?

"Girls like guys who look like they USED to have muscles, right?" - Consensus between Dale and Kai

But highlights aren´t always main events. Some highlights can come from meeting other people from your own country, say from Ontario, who really have it out for Alberta and you get to duke it out politcal ideological difference that that neither of you can really control at this point in time. It´s times like your last night in a country when you find yourself arguing the importance of teamplay in North American sports, defending baseball and American and/or Canadian football, against the overbearing international presence of futból, and even though you love playing both of those sports, couldn´t care less about what other people think of them.

So with all of that being said, and much more to be found out, I guess I´ll have to let this one go for a while. Thanks to eveyrone who still reads this thing. Though I do it for myself as a way to keep my mind active, it really means a lot to me that people actually care about what I have to say.

Flying Solo...again.

2007-07-29T12:46:00.000-06:00

But, not even. You meet people, you hang out with people, and you do it all again tomorrow. This week's topic is:

Traveling Alone

Imagine complete liberty to do whatever you want, whenever you want, and nothing but the number in your bank account holding you back. Welcome to my current state. On July 25, 2007, my travel partner since London had to cut his trip short(er than mine) and left me high but not quite so dry.

It's easy being on your own. Today I woke up when my tent trapped in so much heat I couldn't bare to be in it anymore (just like the same way I woke up yesterday and the day before), I then wandered over to the people I've been hanging out with at the campground said hello and then went exploring. PS. if you ever get the chance to come to Lagos, Portugal, DO IT. It's bloody hot, but it's a pretty nice little place.

But I told you that to tell you this. Lisbon is not all it's cracked up to be. So, if you think that Lisbon is worth staying in for an extended period of time, I will disagree. But other than that...I really have nothing more to say. I'm entitled to an opinion and when you travel by yourself, you don't have to worry about much more.

(Sorry to cut this so short, but I have very very little time remaining on stupid pay by the time internet situation I am in.)

EDIT.

So here's the story, I suppose. I was going to leave that post just how it was, but to tell the truth, traveling alone is excellent. It's been one day since I wrote that other stuff and though it's nice to have freedom, I realised today on the bus while I had no one to talk to, no one to bicker with and no one to be in agreement or disagreement with about anything, traveling alone can also be lonely. I've met new people today and I'll probably add them to my facebook, as I have the ones from last night and the ones from tomorrow, but real friends only come along once in a blue moon, so even though you may love being on your own and at liberty to do whatever you want, really, everyone's just looking for a friend or two.

So cheers to everyone who I've shared drinks with, thanks to everyone I've talked to on the train or bus, and a special heartfelt muchas gracias de espana to all of the people who I have ever really been able to call my friends.

pps. Being back in Spain and able to communicate easily with the locals is sweet.

What do you just say to me?

2007-07-19T06:59:00.000-06:00

"Do you speak...?"

So this will be a straight up rant. I only have about ten minutes left on this internet and heading to the beach today makes the next internet stop questionable. This week's cultural topic is:

LANGUAGE

Many people study them, everyone speaks at least one (I guess except for maybe deaf people and I guess even deaf people can sign, which is kind of like speaking, but in the technical sense, not really). But I always find it unbelievable when people speak many.

I speak english and french and I'm fairly priviledged in that respect, being virtually fluent in both languages and I can get by in Spanish, which is nice. At one point last week I was bored not knowing what's going on, so I picked up a Spanish newspaper and understood a great deal of it. Unfortunately, local news from rural Spain doesn't really concern me too too much...and global news would have been more of an asset. But nonetheless, understanding and being understood are very very important.

Half the fun of being a tourist is getting around, and though this will sound pretty ignorant, but being in a different country with a language different from any that you speak is a real bitch. In Europe, though, people are brought up to learn at least two, if not more and usually if they speak more than two, they speak at least three really really well. Luckily for me, the most commonly taught second language is english. The third most commonly taught third language is french. So I'm well set up.

But there can even be differences in within the english language, the most apparent ones are between british english and american english, where the use of the "our" v. "or" suffix and "ise" v. "ize". Also, did you know the word "properly" isn't a properly used word in American? Yeah, I just learned that too. It wouldn't be correct.

But what the hell is correct, anyway? As long as we can be understood, who cares about anything?

Running with the WHAT?

2007-07-14T03:07:00.000-06:00

The camino is over. This post is on time for my self-imposed deadline, which means after this post, I´m caught back up. After 22 hours on the train in 2 days, 13 hours in Pamplona, and back in Santiago in time for coffee, beer, and last night´s firework show, this week´s cultural topic is:

SAN FERMIN

AKA Running with the Bulls. Sounds dangerous, and with good reason. Because it can be. The day we arrived in Pamplona, July 12th, was the most brutal day of the entire festival this year: 7 gorings and some record number of injuries. But, this 40-something year old tradition springs from Spain´s bull culture and need to be macho...or something. On average, there are from 10-15 bull gorings every year and up to as many has 30-35 hospitalisations. All things considered, it´s really not all that bad. In the past 11 years, only one person has actually died from injuries sustained in running.

Spanish bull culture dates back to I don´t know when, the urge to stampede for 825m with 2 tonne bulls is I don´t know why, and the things you see about the actual running are much worse than it would seem, and the way the spanish police actually work every morning is unbelievable. If you do it smart, you won´t get hurt. The problem is, it´s not a calculatable risk. If a bull wants to turn on you, it will and there´s really nothing you can do about it, especially if you´re cornered. Thousands of people run everyday and most of them don´t get gored or hurt (in fact, most people who get hurt get hurt because someone in front of them falls, or they get tripped up, or they bang their head on a railing, or they jump over the fence and can´t catch themselves and end up with a bleeding face), they just run into the stadium and jump the barrier.

The biggest and best part about the eight day Sanfermin festival is the all night party, the parades, the concerts, and the people of all ages all dressed in white with red bandana and sache. Just a big party atmosphere and, of course since drinking in the streets is legal in Europe, the party goes all night long and in every possible street.

The actual stampede only lasts about 3 minutes, and starts at exactly 8am (which is strange because usually Spaniards are taking naps) with the firing of a rocket and the release of the bulls. It´s a easy deadline for all the people still out partying from the night before. In the pack, there are 6 fighting toros, which are chased by a group of non-dangerous hearding cattle to create a Stampede effect. The toros run because they want to be part of the group, but they´re also bread to kill, which is why they can be dangerous.

Animal rights activists are trying to put an end to the tradition, since they claim it´s mistreatment of the toros and blah blah blah. If you ask me, though, if you have enough time to think about animal rights, you have too much time to think. Tradition is tradition, right? After everyone and all the bulls are hearded into the main stadium, where the race ends, a baby toro with corked horns is released and people taunt it and play around and everyone has a little fun. Later in the evening (which is probably what the hippies don´t like), the 6 bulls are put to the true killing test when they go up against matadors in faceoff: the bull fight. Unfortunately for the bulls, the matadors always win.

People start the race from all different points in the course. Dale started from about 100m in. I also ran, but I started about 150m from the end, which means I didn´t actaully see the bulls until I was safely behind stadium guard rail. But, as soon as we figured out Dale wasn´t gored, hurt, stepped on, injured, or whatever, we were back on a train. Long day for a good story. Yeah, I´m hardcore too.

Finito

2007-07-11T08:39:00.000-06:00

That´s Spanish for finished. Yup, the walking is over.

After one month and three days, we walked nearly the entire width of Spain, amounting to somewhere between 850-900km. It sounds like a lot, and well, that´s because it is. We took a total of 3 rest days, one in San Sebastian, one in Burgos, and one in Leon. It´s a pretty big deal.

We wandered into cathedral square last night around 8pm after a day of about 45km of walking in the Spanish heat, through fields that smell like manure, up and down dirt and concrete roads, and around herds of cattle driven by short little old ladies with no teeth. This week´s cultural topic is:

BEING A TOURIST

It sounds funny being in a foreign country where you don´t really speak alot of the language, you don´t really know where you´re going and you don´t really have a clue about anything except that you have to somehow find a place to sleep, find food to eat and figure out what you have to see while you´re in the town. But that´s where the fun is. Basically, that´s the definition of tourism. Seeing things, doing things and getting out of your own country.

But the Camino is different. People start from all sorts of different places, coming from as close in as 110km away or as far as France, Belgium, Norway, Switzerland or even Poland...on FOOT. Some people walk 15, some walk 20, some walk 35km everyday and some take days off. Everyone takes the camino at their own pace. Some people come out for a walking vacation and some people come to find themselves and clear out their minds before going back to regular routine and normal commitments. Some do it with friends from before, some make friends on the camino, and some could make friends but don´t. Everyone has their own Camino. Everyone is there for a different reason and everyone has a different story. The only real thing everyone has in common is that everyone just follows the yellow arrows and will eventually get there. That´s the beauty of being a pilgrim on the Camino.

I came to the Camino as a tourist, looking for a unique, inexpensive way to spend time in Spain and in Europe, but I ended up with way more. On the Camino, you aren´t just a tourist, you are a pilgrim.

I´ll be the first to admit it sounds a bit silly, calling yourself a pilgrim, just because you walk for 800km, but it´s a strange feeling and the sense of accomplishment is a greater feeling than the pain that you have to endure day in and day out, with the blisters, the muscle cramps, or just the everyday soreness that comes from walking all day. I also endured a detox period of no beer for 10 days, which, considering how delicious and refreshing an ice cold beer can be on a hot summer afternoon, made it pretty pretty difficult. But it´s over now. And it feels good.

The closer in we came to Santiago, the more prearranged church and youth groups came, and competition for beds was fierce and we came to somewhat resent the newbie pilgrims. They seemed like bloody tourists who were out walking for the week. But afterall, when we got into Santiago, we didn´t care anymore. In the grand scheme of things, it´s kind of nice that they could have the opportunity to join in something as big as the Camino.

For most people, it´s the end, but for me, sadly, it´s the halfway point, but when you walk for 33 days, you get to thinking. I can´t say I´ve actually figured anything out for sure, but thinking all day sure can be nice. In the last five weeks I´ve seen the best of myself and I´ve seen the worst, and it has been one of the coolest experiences I could have possibly had as part of my great big Europe trip.

I don´t really know how to end this thought, because I´m still kind of trying to grasp the concept that tomorrow I´m not going to have to get up at 6am and start walking. It´s a bit sad, yet at the same time relieving. I am no longer a pilgrim; I´m a tourist.

Edit: this now has a title.

2007-07-07T13:26:00.000-06:00

I guess this post won´t be getting a title.

Alright, so here´s the scoop. I really have nothing interesting to write about...again. So I´m not going to waste your time or mine. But I WILL let you know a few things that are going on and I may in the meantime answer some questions you just might have. This week´s cultural topic is

NAPTIME

Kids take naps. Adults should not. But, in Spain, around 13:00 everything shuts down and people just go to sleep. It was originally something farmers did to stay out of the heat, but now, everyone does it. It´s as if Spanish people do as little work is as humanly possible but still somehow manage to live comfortably, of course, when you live in a town of 50 people, comfortable is not the same as if you lived in a real city. When the highlight of your town is the one bar that is open until noon and after 6, maybe you should consider moving.

In walking the Camino, I have taken on some Spanish characteristics. My hair is brown, I have dark eyes and I have a tan, but no, I am not at all Spainish. Yes, I am currently in Spain walking the Camino Santiago, but I don´t live anywhere. The reason I haven´t had the chance to write a post in more than a week and a half and was late on the last one by probably 4 days as well is because people in Spain apparently do not believe in internet. In fact, I have seen more fully functional computers in this country that are not connected to any kind of internet whatsoever than I even used to see before the internet existed at all in North America.

Spanish people from other regions say "this is the least developed part of spain". I sure hope so, because they still heard cattle with a big stick and loud yells.

People on the Camino like to be done walking before 3pm. This is fine, only when we walk 35km in the 35C heat, it would be nice to have a bed when we show up at the hostel 10 hours after starting. Lightweight newbies, that´s what we call them. But that´s also not the point. The point is, the only reason they want to get in so early is so that they can take a nap.

What if I´m Spanish and I´m thirsty at 3pm? Sorry, you have to wait for another hour or two. Hopefully you don´t die of thirst...which you wouldn´t if you just opened your stores all day long - not to mention worked more than 5.5 hours a day.

Maybe it´s a little unfair to say considering I haven´t worked in now over two months, but if I took a nap every time I got tired I´d still be in France, not 850km away. All this writing is making me tired, but that´s because it´s night time, and that´s where sleep belongs; at night, not in the middle of the day.

The Curve Ball

2007-06-28T09:20:00.000-06:00

So I realise it´s been a while since the last entry. Straight up, there has been a change of plan. Instead of following the northern coastal route, as originally planned, we took 6 days to make our way down south to the interior, main route. There were a number of factors that lead us to the conclusion, including costs, cheating/dishonesty, difficulty/lack of flexibility, and time constraints, but all in all, it´s been a pretty good decision.

By the way, if you have ever tried or needed to do any sort of non-technical writing, ie. what I do every week, you will know that sometime there is just a certain sense of writers block and sometime the throughts just don´t flow as easily as you would like. For me, today is one of those, but as I usually do, I´ll try to do my best to be entertaining. This week´s cultural topic, though broad, is:

Sometimes you do stupid things and Stupid things happen to you

Okay, I´ll admit it´s a stretch, but I couldn´t think of only adjective to describe what has happened over the past little stretch. It´s so broad a topic that i don´t really know how to start properly, so here goes.

In Spain, it is illegal to walk on the freeway. As in most countries it´s unsafe, maybe even dangerous and everybody knows that. What we didn´t know is that you can actually get a ticket for it. So write that down, kids, you should not, especially on a Sunday morning, walk on the freeway: it will cost you €63. Esta una souvenir de España, they said, as if to make it sound like they were doing us a favour. It is, in fact, SO dangerous, that they would not even let us into their van, but rather let us keep walking on the road until the next exit, where ironically, we would have gotten off anyway. I´ve never had a police escort before, though, so I guess we had to give that one a try.

Walking into the night. We have heard many people talk about wanting to do it since we got to this new camino. They want to see the stars, or they want to enjoy the silence, or they want to stay out of the heat, or whatever. This is a stupid idea, especially if you are walking on the shoulder of a two lane highway south of Orduña that doesn´t actually have a highway and you have already walked nearly 40km that day and by the time you actually get to your town that has a campsite, there is no campsite and you end up just camping virtually in someone´s backyard, so you get up so early that the sun isn´t even up, but you want to make sure you don´t get caught and you haven´t showered in two days because the night before that you also camped illegally (though we call it wild/free to make it sound less unethical) and when you get up all you can think about is going back to bed, though even in the real world this is often a thought that many people have each and everyday. The point is, though the stars are unbelievable, the view is not worth the huge pain in the ass.

Walking more than 50km in a day. This is silly. First off, if you walk 50km, that´s going to take you even an hour in a car, so that´s impressive, but it´s also stupid. We´ve done it now a couple of times and you just end up basically losing the next day anyway, so the average works itself out. But that´s the point of average. Average temperatures in the prairies in Spain, where we are right now are between 30-35C. To avoid some of the heat, pilgrims are awake by 6am, and if you walk in the afternoon you will get overheated. If you are overheated AND dehydrated and you walk 35km, the last 17 of which is a straight stretch with no shade, no water and no landmarks to let you know how far you are along the trail, you walk by yourself and are not motivated to get to the end, you will get heat stroke. The next day you will feel like crap, only walk 7km and pretty much waste the entire effort you made just to get to the stupid hostel that had the pool that ended up being too cold to be refreshingly cool. Hypothetically, of course. Heat stroke is bad and no one wants it.

Walking blind. Now, obviously we have eyes that work and we can see, but we don´t even have a guide to the 800km walking trail we´re on. Guide books vary in detail, in accuracy, in overall effectiveness and have varying degrees of helpfulness. We are following a little slip of paper that shows the distance between the town we´re in and the town coming up, leading all the way up to Santiago. That´s pretty stupid I guess, but the name of the game is follow the arrows. Even without a book you will eventually make it to where you really have to go.

But, of course, as I like to do in most posts, I´ll turn this one around for you. If you don´t do stupid things, you won´t learn anything. Stupid things happen because you don´t plan. But that´s the beauty of the camino. Everybody takes it at their own pace, whether to go on one day or to take a rest. Today we´re taking a rest in Leon, a charming little city with a huge cathedral and huger party last night, but that´s fine. That´s our camino, as they say. Point is, stupid things are what make trips interesting and if you have no stories, what´s the point of ever even leaving your house?

Hasta Manana, Suckers!

2007-06-16T03:36:00.000-06:00

¨If you don´t practice, I won´t know - but God will.¨
- Mr Uzick

Alright, get this. We are currently in the commercial centre of the Basque country, a large city over almost 400 000 people, Bilbao, and there are no McDonalds. Lame? Yeah, I´d say. Listen, when you walk 160km in a week you really only expect two things when you get into a city: a place to sleep and a McDonalds. This place only has one of those things...greatly disappointing. This week´s cultural topic is:

CHEATING

Okay, so everyone has taken an exam at some point in their life and peaked over to the person in front of them, or beside them and made sure their answer is the right one. Everyone has compared answers on assignments before they hand them in. And, maybe even some academics have forgotten to source some part of their doctoral thesis....but that´s the kind of cheating that doesn´t really hurt anybody.

Along el camino de la costa, the northern trail that we´ve been following there have been a couple of groups that have all done the exact same days and have all ended up in the same places on the same nights. What this means is that when there are not enough spots for all of the people who are starting and finishing at the same point, some people end up getting screwed...and not the good kind.

If you care at all, you´re probably asking yourself, well wait, Kai, if everyone is walking, how can people be cheating? If you get up too late or walk too slowly, don´t you deserve to be left out when you get in to your town really late? The answer is normally simple: Yes.

But for the sake of a longer post, let me explain.

Doing a pilgrimage, like I mentioned last week is supposed to a spiritual experience, where (whether you´re religious or not) you are able to better yourself in some way by doing it. Personally, I´m in it for the fitness, photography and for the sake and the experience of a challenge. So, if it´s going to be really really easy, what´s even the point. Now, like I mentioned before, christians, mainly catholics, flock to the burial of St James to be enlightened, and as far as I´m concerned, if there´s no challenge for them, they don´t really deserve the enlightenment. Maybe they´ll get it, maybe they won´t. All I know is that just like any other time in life, cheaters might win in the short term, but when they cheat, no one wins.

For nearly the past week we have been walking and mostly all day been hanging out with a couple of older Germans (aged 51 and 62) who have followed us up and down hills, through muddy paths, through gagged rose-thorned bush fields and who have held their ground very very well. And even though I school them in climbing hills, they are very strong walkers.

So count that, two Germans, Dale and me. That´s 4. The other two groups who were competing for our spots: the ones we call the 6-pack (actually a group of 7 from Zaragoza) and the Choir (who were initially three groups of 2, 4 from Barcelona, 2 from Madrid and came together to a loud combo who talk into the night and wake up way too early) All told, that´s (count it) 17 people vying for what is often 10 or 11 cheap or free sleeping spots. Luckily for us, the 6-pack doesn´t really mind staying in a normal algergue (hostel) that will usually cost them around 10euros for the night. The choir, on the other hand, will not, especially if they were there first (!).

So now, how are they cheating if they beat us to the albergue? There are usually three ways to get to the finish point. The main route, which is the one they recommend, because it´s the actual path and therefore the most direct, but can often be very challenging. The cyclists route, which is often flatter, less rough and because of that, slightly less scenic. Then, there´s the road. The 6pack ALWAYS walk on the road, because they also have a car to carry all of their clothes and such. But the nice part about them is they don´t always take our places. The choir, however, USED to walk the proper path, but once they figured out that Dale and I are faster and stronger, they started to walk the roads. This, to me, is cheating and its ridiculous. Not only do they lose out on the true spiritual experience, but they also miss the entire point of walking the northern route of the way of St James.

So all I can do is keep walking with my head high and dignity intact and to get away from the road-walking cheaters, we´re headed south the normal Camino Frances. Hasta luego, jerks. Cheaters never win and I´ll have better pictures. Hopefully they have a McDonalds in the next place.

Free Transport...the legal kind

2007-06-09T10:29:00.000-06:00

"Sommos piligrimos"

So as much as I would like to think that I always just play the cards as they lie and improvize my entire life, truth be told, I´m probably a pretty organised (though some people maybe call my type of organisation "unorganisation") person. Every night when I get home (though my definition of home at the moment is slightly unclear)I get out my things and put them exactly in the place so that I´ll know where they are when I get up in the morning and have to get ready. On June 6, Dale and I set out on what will easily be the longest backpacking hiking trip I will have ever taken. This week´s cultural topic (which is a topic that will probably be elaborated on in further posts) is:

WALKING

So this is going to be hard to explain hypothetically, but I´ll do my best. The walk we are taking is what is known as the Way of St James/Jean/Jacques/Camino Santiago/Camino del Norte... and is essentially a pilgrimage to the alleged burial ground of St James (elder), cousin of Jesus Christ, in Santiago de Compostela.

The walk itself is expected to take anywhere from 35-40some days (plus rest days and ours will be broken up by the Sanfermin festival in Pamplona aka Running of the Bulls). People come from all over Europe and the world to walk the Camino in hopes of being enlightened by or finding miracles of something from the Saint. Faithful catholics and other christians alike flock to the cathedral to find the closest known existing connection to Jesus.

Now, I´m not going to lie and say I´m a big believer, but I´ll tell you that a fourty day hike is one hell of a walk. I´m in it for the fitness.

So, only two days in so far (three if you count our rest day which is today) we started our walk just out of the way in Biarritz, France, and after walking, on a totally improvised 18km route until for hours in the french heat, came to the border town of Hendaye to set up camp. For those who don´t know, also, the French (like most non-english countries in Europe) like to close things down around about 16h30, so that they don´t get too tired for the evening.

Next day, walked into Spain and carried on even further to posh coastal port town of San Sebastian. Too many details to go into, but the guide book we have sucks balls and has no maps. We got lost, yes. But as smart people do, you find your way back to the trail and then hike for about 20 more kilometers until around 23:30, because all towns leading up until that point don´t have anywhere to sleep. Silly, really. ¡Pero Bienvenudo en España! Hope the rest of the trip maintains this level of fun.

Anyway, rest days are sweet, so if you remember nothing else from this post than that, you should be fine. Oh, and also, if you stay organised, however that might be, you won´t have to sleep on the beach and then have the SWAT team kick you off.

Salut, les amis!

2007-06-06T05:07:00.001-06:00

"I have 61 wieners between my legs"

Good news, avid readers! There will be a post this week afterall. I found an english keyboard, and you know what that means -- being able to type properly! So usually every once in a while I sit down and write down ideas for what I might want to put in my blog or just rant to my self in a kind of a girly way kind of like a journal or whatever, but for the past week and a bit, something has gotten in the way. But in fact, this is the kind of distraction that you really makes traveling worth while. This week's cultural experience is:

Making Friends

Last time I wrote, I wrote about how crappy the weather was. What this means is that when the weather is crap, people are in bad moods, no one just hangs out around the campsite and pretty much everyone just keeps to themselves and does their own thing. Then, something magical happened, and I suppose it wasn't really magical in the sense of magic tricks or something, it was more just a figure of speach I used to describe the fact that having the weather do a complete 180 was pretty much sweet. So probably by now you can assume that yes, the magic was a change in weather. The only real way to meet people is when you pass them in the toilet area everyday and maybe say hi and then maybe go into town and drink at a bar, but that's expensive and as budget travelers, that's not really how to roll.

But then, nice weather puts all those grim people back into good moods and they all come out of their shells. The timing of our rain stoppage also conveniently coincided with the weekend, where more people come and when my good friend came down for a visit, and so graciously bought us a BBQ. Alright, anecdotes aside, this is the how to do.

Buy ping pong paddles. This is an easy opener for anyone, because no matter how little or much experience someone has at ping pong, they probably love it. And then they get better. That's what happens with practice. Then, they teach their friends and then everyone is better off knowing kind of how to play ping pong. Then Swedish people challenge you to a playoff, but are too drunk too early in the day, so they end up never showing up.

BBQs attract people. You if you have a hot smoking grill, people will join you. That's pretty much it. Obviously, you also have to let them know that they're welcome. So remember how once upon a time I wrote a lame post about BBQs? Well, if you wanted to know what the best kind is for making a cheap little one, then charcoal is the way to go. Artificial fire-assister starter tablets are also good too. (though I still prefer the ease of a good propane grill) A little grill can be pruchased for (let's say hypothetically) 16€ and will bring hours of joy and tons of cooked items. Also, buy a little one, because that way you can pretty much take it anywhere. Steaks are nice, but hot dogs will do...anywhere from 60-110 should feed 5-10 hungry people. BBQs at your neighbours' place are good, but you can also do it on your own campsite. You can also do it on the beach, though not legally.

Buy beer. Maybe a huge case. This is probably one of the best conversation starters there are. 'Hey, I'm Kai. Would you like to come drink beer with us and be friends?' Because even if they don't actually want a beer, they'll at least come over and be friends...unless they're boring. But you don't need boring friends anyway. This works even better if you already have a BBQ going. Beer and hot dogs...mmmm.

Also, being bilingual is also good, but it's not always necessary. Yesterday, we had a nearly fully french day, that was nice. French people are nice. One nice thing is just smiling at people, because when you smile, then they realize that you brush your teeth everyday and people like other clean people. But one really nice thing to do is to make friends with someone who has a car, like we did yesterday. Driving is always a luxury when you're on a walking holiday!

So that's how you do it, folks. To make friends, all you have to do (mostly) is talk to people. Any other suggestions I'd be more than happy to hear, because a single guy on the run could always use more friends!

The Other Side

2007-06-06T05:02:00.000-06:00

So if you ever wanted to know what my travel buddy Dale is thinking, check the link on the side. His blog thingy is sponsored by the university he went to, entitled:

Dale, World traveler

May not have a post this week. I'm Lame.

2007-06-05T07:07:00.000-06:00

But I DO HAVE tons of ideas!

Better than a burn

2007-05-29T06:30:00.000-06:00

'Everybody feels better in a tan'

Bonjour, or that's what they'd have you believe anyway. Today is rainy...it's supposed to be sunny in beach towns, no? Otherwise no one would live there. Currently in the french surf town of Biarritz, livin' it up in the cloudy, windy, though surprisingly pleasant beach town mentality. Less than a week ago, we came from a different coastal town, though it is port town, so beaches were not quite as nice. La Rochelle boasted what we would call an excellent base tan, if not a burn, and now I'm just waiting for the last of my back to fall off (as well as the sun to start shining in Biarritz before I can get back to my favorite look. This week's cultural topic is:

TANNING

Tans, like most anything else, come in varying degrees. In education, you can get a high school diploma, a bachelor's degree, master's degree or PhD. In tanning, it's kind of the same, only with tans, the degree is the degree of attractiveness that is held in a certain kind of tan.

The Farmer's tan. This is probably the most common type of tan, since most people don't get the chance to actually take off their t-shirt in the sun, and unfortunately, many that do probably shouldn't. But admittedly, farmer's tan is probably better than no tan at all. The tan ends mid-upper arm and looks alright until you wear a shirt that has short sleeves. Then, you're the laughing stalk of the town.

Beater tan. The more politically correct name for this tan would be atheletic vest tan. If you aren't going to have a proper full tan you might as well have this one. Full arm coverage, as well as shoulder and neck and upper chest, you can wear virtually any shirt and fool even the best of us into thinking you're fully covered. It's the white stomach and back that doesn't look too appealing. But definitely one step up from the farmer type.

Shorts tan. For girls, this may also be the equivalent to a bikini tan, covering just about as much as decently possible without actually going in the buff. Nice coverage everywhere on the body except for parts below the belt, and may actually be blinding when the shorts come off, but you live with it because you feel good and look even better.

And then there's the tan's arch nemesis: The burn. The burn always happens so suddenly and it always happens to the people who think they're invincible (like me), but obviously aren't. But the burn is just a real bitch. The worst part about it is the itchy feeling that comes about 4 days later. Day 1: You burn, it hurst. Day 2: it's tender, but it's not red anymore. Day 3: the burn starts to change colour to a more tanned looking brown, and thoughts like 'maybe I'll be alright afterall' come to mind. Then Day 4: it happens. And it hurts. The next few days are alright, but you just don't want to walk around without a top on because it's going to look pretty crappy...all peeling-like.

Of course, just like university degrees, you can get both REAL and FAKE tans. Real ones, obviously, can look a little funny, probably don't have completely even colour, maybe a little white triangle under your chin or something like that, maybe on your chest it'll be a little whiter, just because the sun always comes from the top...not the bottom, but the clearest way to distinguish a real tan from a fake one is once you get your knickers off. WHITE. Unless, you don't have naturally light coloured skin, in which case it will be whatever colour that is naturally...the point is it'll be a lighter shade than the rest of your body.

Just for good measure, here are the best parts about being tanned. You feel better. Your skin feels smoother. Muscles? What are muscles - you have a tan! Reaching out for something and noticing that you have tanned hands is probably the best part about being tanned, but that's probably an entire post in itself. The best part of the tan, though? Knowing that you've spent your time and money wisely.

You ever been on vacation and someone in your group says something like 'looks like the bad weather followed us here'? And you just want to hit them, because what are the chances that out of the 6 billion people in the world the bad weather just decided to follow YOU? Well, maybe it would be easier if the bad weather just never showed up in the first place; that way we could all just be happier in our tans.

LE BigMac

2007-05-21T06:28:00.000-06:00

'I don't know, I never went to Burger King.'

If you've never been to France, you should at least try out their bloody computer keyboards - frustrating? Yeah, maybe a little. On a lighter note: McDonalds. I normally try to go in a new country without becoming a victim of corporate America as long as I possibly can, but this trip, it took only about a week and a half. If you have ever tried to stay under 20€ a day in spending in a place that travel books recommend budgeting at least 40-50, you'll know that all you can really afford is bread, cheese, and maybe some sandwich meat, if you've been a good boy... This week's FRENCH cultural topic is:

LA GASTRONOMIE

Now, I realise that I've actually talked about food a number of times, but let's get serious. English food is not really THAT good. Now obviously everyone loves fish and chips every once in a while (unless you're allergic to fish, I suppose) but if there's one thing the French love to be good at, it's French Cuisine. Strangely enough, they even named it in their own language! Everyone who has seen the great Pulp Fiction already knows it, but the biggest difference in fast food is this: Big Mac is the same, Fillet of Fish is McFish, quater pounder = Royal Cheese, and in Paris you can get beer on tap. As far as McDo goes, that's really all there is to it.

Crepes. Crepes, in case you've never had the pleasure, are really thin pancake kind of things that are served with sweet things in the middle - like butter, honey, fruit, or the most popular of all, nutella (chocolate hazelnut spread - which, due to technical difficulties, i cannot eat). But if sweet is not what you're looking for, look no further! You'll love les galettes. Galettes are based on the same idea, but instead of sugary filling, you'll find delicious meats, cheeses, maybe some eggs, maybe some vegetables...perfect for dinner or a heavy afternoon, morning or late night snack!

Croque Monsieur. Picture this: ham baked in between two slices or bread with cheese melted on top. This is the typical kind of food one might find in a Brasserie/bar. AKA bar food. Serve that up with some fries and you're laughing. Add a fried egg, you've got yourself a Croque Madame. C'est facile, ein?!

Le Café. Ever gone into that crappy little coffee shop around the corner from your place and just said 'dang, I really wish I could just get a really nice double espresso that didn't taste like feet'? We'll I'll be the first to tell you that in France, that's never a problem. In France they laugh at the idea of 'filter coffee' and when you order a coffee, it's fresh and it's good.

Le Menu. This is not a foreign concept, but it's what we might call a set-meal. Anywhere from 2 to 7 courses from prices of 8 to 50€, France offers the combination you're looking for. Yeah, we splurged the one day and went for a 15er. But picture this: aperitif, oysters (huites) for the appetizer, marinated mussles (moules) for the entry, mutton chops and potatoes (mouton), goat cheese digestif, and top that puppy off with a mousse au chocolat. Delicious? Yes. Also the first time I've had oysters since I was 8.

Of course, you could always play it cheap (like we do most days) and stick to the baguette and camembert, but don't forget the WINE!

Zero Hour Work-week

2007-05-15T07:10:00.000-06:00

Ever wondered what it would be like to not have a job, rent payments, responsibility or a care in the world? Have you ever gone on vacation and when it's over you wished you had had more time to hang around and do nothing? Welcome to the first edition of international cultural topic of the week!

CANAMERICA does EUROPE: The Loire Valley

So basically, this is how it is: no home, no job, no plans. With the duo of Kai Hochhausen (Calgary, Canada) and Dale Vaughn (Dallas, Texas), we're rocking Europe budget-style! What's the difference between us and hobos? Bank accounts! (I have two, actually, and I am also able to pay credit card bills!) Well, this is the preview edition for the new couple of months.

Right now, I'm paying by the minute for internet. A strange phenomena and royal pain in the ass, not the the royalty that lived in the castles hereabouts. The castles are nice, camping is cheap and the only really expensive thing around is the fact that you have to pay out of your ass just to walk in past the gates! So, I've seen castles, oh, yes I have. But the truth is, working on a homeless person's budget is very very hard. So difficult, in fact, that all I really eat is pork sausage, camembert, and baguette. Un cafe est aussi necessaire de temps en temps...

The Loire Valley is known for it's countless (though countable) castles, with some dating back to medieval time. I'm on a pay computer, so I won't go into too much time, but starting in Tours, we made it to Villandry, Rigny-Ussé, Langeais and are now in the nice "metropolis" (approx 30 000 people) of Chinon, which boasts the oldest and (to me) most impressive. Google them, I dare you.

Snapshot: Wine is cheap, and generally good, but if I could offer you one piece of advice, don't drink it if it's oxidised. Kind of tastes like vinegar. But we'll get into wine in a later french edition! Other topics on the forefront: French cuisine and how to eat it for cheap! Hiking 900km across Spain. The Running of the bulls. Surfing. Beach Frisbeer. AND MORE!

I've talked about it before, but I'll let you know all of the secrets of how to eat, drinking, camp, and play all within a budget of around 25 Euros a day! So, stay tuned for more exciting adventures of team Canamerica!

PS/NB: Sorry about the lack of pictures/Je m'excuse de ne past avoir plus de photos in this post/dans ce post. A la prochaine!

This one goes to eleven

2007-05-07T17:05:00.000-06:00

Hopefully someone picked up on that (not-so) obscure movie reference. This is one of those posts that needs no introduction. It needs no research. No instructions are necessary. And everyone knows about it and might be able to relate. It’s one of those things that can be the driving force behind anything you do and the way you react to different genres can show other people how you are as a person. And no, we’re not just still just talking about karaoke. This week’s English and international topic is:

MUSIC

The words England and Rock music are almost synonymous. London is HUGE for developing and innovating music, and some of the most epic musicians come from England - especially from rock in the 60s, 70s, 80s but with digital recording technology moving as quickly as it is, London is becoming now also a major source for drum & bass, hip-hop and electronica. This is one of those posts that you have so much to say but just can’t get it out. Basically, I’m not in a music group at the moment and will likely not be at the level in the near future to put it all on the line for it, but if I were going to and I had connections, London would be the place to do it.

My friend is an excellent example of the continuingly successful progression of alternative rock music here in London. (Shameless plug) Rizy Fawkes has just recently recorded a wicked demo album. They’re an international group looking for a way out of the English mountain sports industry. Maybe a little hippie in real life, but they have a solid rock foundation and they do eat meat. Check out their myspace; you won’t be disappointed. Also, tell your friends.
www.myspace.com/rizyfawkes.
I also have a couple of cousins who have bands in Canada, but they never responded to my emails in time for me to get their myspace addresses up on this post. As far as I’m concerned, they just lost out BIG on free publicity – there must be at least TEN (or 11) people who read this damn thing – but as they say, no publicity is bad publicity.

Someone asked me the other week if I would rather be blind or deaf. I chose blind. Plain and simple, I suppose, I’d rather be neither, but without music, I would be virtually useless. Every morning I play music to put me in whatever mood I want to be in for that day, and depending on whether I actually do pick the correct song will dictate whether I made the right choice. But whether it's a sight, sound, smell or taste that goes along with it, I doubt I would be able to go without music.

The way songs make you think about things. Last week, I finally joined the world of mp3 technology and bought a little portable player. Upon thorough (10 minutes of window shopping) I opted for the ZEN, by CREATIVE. Pretty neat little toy. I loaded the software onto the computer, restarted and then loaded on random songs that the program chose for me. Do you ever make a play list of everything on your computer and then just turn it on? I do. It’s pretty amazing the number of songs that come on that make you think about something that you never would have remembered otherwise.

Maybe something important happened while you were listening to that song, or maybe it was just something that makes you smile. Sometimes a song that other people think is stupid just touches you in just the perfect way. As I walked home this evening, “Sex & Candy” came on and I thought back to a trip to Lethbridge, AB I went on in Grade 9. Random. But that’s what it can do to you and I’m sure this will happen more as I get older, thankfully. Like when someone says “I’m blue”, what do you think? Probably something along the lines of dabudi dabudai. I’m a wrong?

I hate when people immediately pass judgment on people who don’t like a certain genre of music. I used to be that way, but I’ve changed, man. Different strokes for different folks, right? Yes. One thing I have come to realise talking to different people is actually WHY people like different kind of music. One kind of music I just really cannot listen to is screamo. I just don’t like the deafening screams. To me, the screaming completely ruins what would otherwise be a really good heavy rock song. What I don’t get is why they would invest so much time in something that doesn’t appeal to the masses. Especially because most of them are really talented musicians. Some people are the same with country music; they don’t like the twang. Disco is too patterned. Drum and bass is too mellow, etc. Fact is, that’s why different genres of music exist and if you don’t like it, don’t listen. But don’t criticize. It’s as simple as that.

This week is my last in England, which means that unfortunately, I’ve had to leave some pretty major English cultural topics behind, and unfortunately (probably for the same reasons), I kind of wish I had left out a few of the ones I actually DID opt for (like the one about BBQs, which kind of sucked), but starting next week I’m going to turn it up a notch (musical reference) to EUROPEAN CULTURAL TOPICS, as I’ll be on the road for anywhere from 3 to 5 months, so keep tuning in (another musical reference) and I’ll make sure that none of the topics get too distorted (a third one), but if they do, maybe you could just give me some feedback (one more for good measure). It’s been fun writing about England every week, but change is good. I’ll try to keep it up through my trip, though internet access may become kind of sparse. If it does, though, keep on rockin’ and give me a (16-bar) break.

Sing us a song (Piano Man only)

2007-05-01T17:06:00.000-06:00

“I sing better when I’m drunk!”
– famous last words

Do you ever wake up in the morning really hung-over, still wearing the clothes from last night, but smellier, not really knowing how you got home, and though you’re already running late for work, you still think it’s a really good idea to take a long shower, and as you’re getting out of the shower realise just how uncoordinated you actually, and as you get dressed you just hate your life so much and cuss and swear at yourself for drinking and spending so much last night and then you DO make it to work, but barely, and you’re sweaty because you had to run (blast you extra long shower) and then you reach into your back pocket because it’s more comfortable to stand like that than it is to have your arms crossed in front of you, and then you find a 20 note and everything you were angry about instantly goes away? Well that happened to me this morning.

Last week I went to Paris with my mom and it was pretty much the most whirlwind trip ever. Really cool. I was contemplating doing this week about Family, or a weekend getaway: Paris, but weekend getaway is not super fun for anyone to read except me and I kind of get to sounding like a tour book and the one about family I’ll save for a time when I want to get everyone all sentimental-like. This week’s cultural topic is:

Karaoke

In case you have never been out of the house and have no idea what this is, it’s basically the chance for someone who is often not a very good singer to sing in front of real people. Karaoke was invented in the 1970s in Japan (duh). In Japanese (not that I speak it) Karaoke is literally broken down to the words kara = empty/void + oke = orchestra. So, music void of lyrics. It is then the singer’s job to play lead vocalist and fill in the “void”.

I know my grandmother goes to a group every week to do it, and the time that we all went to see her, she was actually really good. I, on the other hand, am not good. In fact, I’d say most people who try to sing well are horrible and those who try to sing horribly are horrible as well. Karaoke let’s me put my shower singing practice into good use. My most common song of choice is Twist and Shout by the Beatles, even though I’m not the hugest Beatles fan. I just really love belting out that “Ah…ah…ah…” followed by what was voted VH1’s best scream in rock n roll music. I don’t know if I’d say it’s number 1 calibre, but it’s definitely a gooder. I think it should be given to The Who, but what do I know? This week we’re going to “Rockstar Karaoke Night” at Zoo bar in Leicester Square. Haven’t decided what I’ll sing yet.

Have you ever read the book or seen the movie “High Fidelity” (written by Nick Hornby, movie staring John Cusack et al.) where they always list “TOP 5” whatever? Well lately, we’ve been doing that a lot with music. Different genres, different styles, different eras, different levels of influence, best UK bands, best American bands, etc. It’s fun. You should try it. It’s actually really hard to figure things out like that, because sometimes I really won’t like a certain artist, but cannot deny the fact that he/they had a huge influence on music. I’m expanding my horizons, maybe. But I still think Screamo sucks.
Traditionally, karaoke was done in a bar, or clubhouse, or house party, or wherever people gathered, but now, you can do it just about anywhere, from arcades, to bedrooms, to home video game consoles. Scary, yet promising.

Many people think that they get to be better singers when they’re drunk. This is incorrect. What’s actually happening is that alcohol reduces sensory capabilities which affect proper hearing. I’m not saying that if you know you’re bad, you shouldn’t sing, but it’s important that you know something: (I understand that it feels good when you get up, hold the mic, people clap and then your friends high five you, but) just because you won’t remember it tomorrow, doesn’t make singing out of tune okay. So if nothing else, remember that.

I’m pretty sure most people, even non-musicians, have fanaticized about being a rockstar for one reason or another. After all, rock stars don’t really need to accidentally find money in their back pockets, they’re practically made of it.

The Living Broke

2007-04-24T16:17:00.000-06:00

“Does everybody know what time it is?”

That’s right, it’s nearing the end of the month. Payday is coming up! But you know what that means – it’s “budget crunch-time”. You can see it in the streets and you can feel it in the air. The pubs are less busy, the people are more stressed out, and every average person thinks just a little more about everything they buy. This week’s cultural topic of the week is:

MONEY

The mayor of London just recently proposed a raise in the minimum pay grade for the people of his city. Talk is now ongoing about ways to raise the current minimum wage to what they refer to as a “livable minimum wage”. The minimum wage in England is based on marginal age brackets, whereby, the worker’s age will dictate how much they are entitled to based on the national minimum wage standards. Workers aged 16 and 17 can make as little as £3/h and minimum wage for anyone over 18 is £5.05/hr. Average wage for Youth (under 25) in London and surrounding area is somewhere in around £5.60/hr, Luckily for me, I make more than that. The astounding part of this statistic roll-out is that by the mayor’s estimations, working fulltime hours, the average person in London will need a wage of somewhere between £6.70-7.15/hr to maintain an acceptable standard of living.

(Many studies suggest that room-shares are not an acceptable standard of accommodation, which puts most student and foreigner housing out on the street (though not literally).)

London is currently ranked number five on the top 50 most expensive cities in the world, based on housing, food, clothing, household goods, transportation, and entertainment, relative to wages. Moscow ranked number one, followed by Seoul, Tokyo and Hong Kong placed higher, respectively. After London are Osaka, Geneva, Copenhagen, Zurich, Oslo, New York. So take THAT you stats lovers.

The way I see it, there are three major types of people who are (employed and) broke and for obvious reasons, the reasons you are broke can be different.
1. The self-nominated broke. This is the kind of broke that most people wouldn’t really mind being, if they had to be some kind of broke. These people decided at one point everyday that if they are to hit their savings goals, they must stick to a budget in order to do so. Generally, pretty forward looking people and don’t mind going out for a drink every once in a while, as long as they haven’t already spent too much that day. Probably have aspirations to own something grand in the future and by being responsible spenders, they are able to do this. Straight up, this is probably the best kind of broke to be. Chick-Ching!
2. The Budgetarily Broke”. Budget broke people are the people who make just enough to survive healthily. They eat well, but often cook at home because eating out costs a little too much. These people are on a strict budget and though you may actually still have money in the bank, they are not willing to exceed it. If they spend too much that day, they’ll be into the red. Credit cards debts are avoidable, but it’s not going to be easy. Frugal – that’s a nice word for it.
3. The Broke Broke. Budget? What’s that. This is bad. Broke broke people spend more money than they should and by the time they figure out they’re dwindling in the cashflow region, it’s too late. This is why overdraft was invented. These people are the reasons banks make money every quarter, and this is why credit card companies love getting people into debt. Problem is, these non-planning broke broke people won’t ever even get approved for even ONE credit card, even though they’ll need a WHOLE BUNCH just to make it out alive…

Over the years, I’ve had a handful of credit cards, and admittedly, most of them were just so that I could get a free coffee mug, or baseball cap I never wore, or Calgary Flames toque, or a Calgary Stampede bandana, or a University of Calgary t-shirt size XL that I would never be able to fit into, or whatever. Point is, I’ve had a few, but I’ve actually only kept one – and even the one I’ve kept I’ve never used beyond the money I actually already had in the bank. That’s pretty good, I reckon.

For me, budgeting in the past has been relatively easy. Steady income makes for steady allowances, and little spending on consumer goods makes for more spending on beer goods. In England, just like in most developed countries, depending on the employer, workers may be paid weekly, bi-weekly, or even monthly. I am unfortunate enough to be in the latest group. But it’s kind of good. Monthly, they lay out the cash and, daily, you work with it. Simple, right? WRONG. Rents are paid weekly here in sunny London and since you often don’t get paid for the first month of a new job, you may be stranded with no choice by to pay out English prices with tons of your Canadian savings. Hypothetical? Not so much…

Anyway, people always talk about living life to the fullest, and how money can’t buy happiness, and how poor people lead more fulfilling lives, blah blah blah. Hate to say it, but though I am generally an optimist, I’ll have to go with the as eternal pessimist on this one: money definitely make living life a whole lot easier.

Damn, if only I could win the lottery…

Don't call me a hippie

2007-04-17T14:23:00.000-06:00

“If it feels good, do it” - Sloan

Have you ever heard that song “I’m a hippie” by some band I forget the name of and could easily look up but won’t because I can’t be bothered that basically goes through all of the things that all of these neo-hippies stand for and goes on to show that even “hippies” do non-hippie things? Well I have and if you can bother to find that song, go for it. This week’s cultural topic is:

Environmentalism

I don’t know if this thought crossed anyone’s mind just now when you read that little preamble, but you may be asking yourselves how environmentalism can be a cultural topic. Shouldn’t it be a scientific topic? Yes. Yes, it should. Businesses these days are constantly pounding on the idea that energy efficiency is good and that fossil fuels are limited resources and billions of dollars are being invested in to R&D for sustainable development, and governments are implementing bills and signing international accords that regulate the amount of this and that that has to be used or saved, or reused, etc, and that’s fine. They’re probably just looking out for themselves and future generations. But admit it. The “environmental stance” is mostly for PR. And good PR makes for good business.

As far as people go, I don’t have a fundamental problem with being eco friendly, but depending on what crowd you’re in, it seems these days, especially in England, that being environmentally friendly is either righteous or chique. I don’t know why, but whenever I pick up one of London’s free newspapers, I always end up flipping straight away to the “Green London” section, even though they’re usually always talking bogus hippie crap and how things like seal hunting, or the fox chase are immoral and endangering the eco-balance of the world and blah blah blah. I’ve definitely become more environmentally minded over the past couple of years, but I still believe that there’s nothing quite as good as sitting at home with all of the lights on because electricity is cheap and then driving down the road in my 4x4 SUV, pulling up to a gas station and pumping it full of hydrocarbon fossil fuels because image is everything and 4x4s are sweet. That’s what I’ve learned to love growing up in an oil-rich free market economy…but it’s not senseless waste.

I remember when being environmental was simply sticking to the “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.” Basically, these neo hippies all think they’re doing the world a favour by not having washed their hair in a month, shaven in a year, and they never use hot water or electricity in their homes, and think they’re better people for it. Newsflash: that’s mostly drugs. So cut it out. The cool crowds are the types who join in because everyone else does, kind of a lemming effect. And it’s fine because they don’t hold a strong moral stance on the issue and don’t really get in the way. Personally, while living in England, not having a lot of money has pretty much solidified “reduce” and “reuse” and the only real thing that keeps me recycling and preventing me from throwing my empties into the regular garbage bin is the fact that I’ll get hell for it from my “green” flatmate. So I guess I’m probably one of the cool guys.

Culture subtopic: Recycling. In North America, people recycle mostly because they’ll actually end up getting some of their beer money back. In fact, recycling might even be one of the reasons to host a party in the first place. Hosting a party always leaves you with tons of left over drinks; drinks you would never even dream of buying yourself, either because they’re too girly (even though you like the taste), too expensive and you’re poor (though for some reason you think it’s a great idea to have your friends over), and some that maybe you just don’t like because of certain (non)memories of good parties-gone wrong when you were younger and got sick off certain drinks (mine’s Molson Canadian). So after the clean up is done at least you can sit back and enjoy a beer from your fridge on someone else’s dime. And the next day you take all the empties to the bottle depot, pocket the $10.35, and call it a day. In England, though, they’re basically missing out on the free money part, so when it comes down to hosting a party, the potential for leftover drinks is really all you’ve got to look forward too, though you might actually have a good time and if you do then maybe your friends will thank you because after all, you’re a pretty good host and you don’t mind having them over again sometime in the future because they’re pretty good company too.

Subtopic number two: Organic food. Genetically Modified Organisms (GMOs) are apparently the devil. Or this is what hippies want you to think. But guess what. In many studies the subjects couldn’t distinguish between organic and non-organic foods. Health benefits from eating only organic foods are yet to be conclusive. And though Hippies seem to love to protest anything about consumerism, they fail to realise that they’re organic food actually costs more and that no matter what they do, GMOs will one day save their lives. I just don’t get it.

What I’m trying to say is: when I choose to recycle, it shouldn’t be because it’s cool, or because I’m getting money for it, or because I think that energy efficient tools built from my old beer cans and clothing made from old plastic coke bottles are really neat and innovative, it should be because it’s just the right thing to do. Or so that’s what THEY’ve been telling us. But what do they know? I say do what feels right to YOU.

PS. Psychedelic music is crap.

Turns out I'm a tourist...STILL

2007-04-11T14:55:00.000-06:00

Today, on my normal commute to work, I walked down a road I had never been before. To be honest, there wasn’t much of anything I didn’t expect and in reality it didn’t really make me a bigger person, nor did it raise any particularly stimulating debates in my mind. I often try to take unfamiliar routes to familiar destinations, since most of what we can learn is from the unusual. For example: have you ever written the conclusion to a piece before you write the intro and the body? Well, maybe it’s because I’m a cheap-skate, but this week’s half-anniversary cultural topic is:

FREE CULTURE

“Culture” is a pretty broad topic. London has a population of anywhere between 12 and 14 million people (depending on how the metropolitan limits are set) and houses countless historical and not-so historical sites, tourist hang-outs, sport venues, live theatre, musical acts, future/past musicians and of course, museums. But what does London have that YOU might like?

In London, “culture” is everywhere. To most, English Culture might just be a bunch of people walking by each other pretending not to notice each other until one of them has to step to one side in order to avoid a collision. Living in London is kind of like being in a big maze playing a big game of chicken. But if you think about it, walking down the street can be both a game AND a cultural experience. Culture, though, is not just going somewhere or doing something; it’s taking away from the experience. Curiousity. Knowledge. Growth.

I am not afraid to admit that I am a huge procrastinator. I cooked this evening for the first time in a week – just because I couldn’t be bothered otherwise. Through university, you get used to pulling all-nighters to finish papers because hitting deadlines makes for good grades. Most people I know who have lived in London for many years have never even been to the Tower of London or Westminster Abbey, because they’ll “get around to it”. When there’s no real deadline, what’s forcing you to actually do anything? I’m guilty of the same thing.

Before last week, I had only been to the National Gallery, which hosts everything from early renaissance to post-impressionist paintings. Even so, I didn’t make it there until 2.5 months into my stay. This is the kind of museum I like. Simple, concise, direct, no real surprises. Last week, after an eternity of procrastinating (despite walking by it everyday on my commute to work), I went into the British Museum. It was mostly made up of ancient artifacts dating back to before 1300 BC. It makes you wonder what it would say if it could talk – or if it would even remember that far back, for that matter. Growing up in Canada, we don’t really get anything that old. So that kind of thing is always cool to see. And then there was the Tate Modern. The main exhibit at the moment is a series of giant slides that go from all 5 levels of the museum and descend all the way to the bottom level. To me, it seems like more of an amusement park than it does art. Bottom line: Modern art. I don’t get it. But people must like something about modern art because that museum was packed. I’d like to get to the other big museums and having been to only a few, I feel kind of stupid. You see, in London, museums provide a wealth of knowledge…at the attractive cost of nothing.

Over the past few months, I’ve been only to a few small theatre shows. Reason being, they are just too pricey. The shows I’ve been to I have really enjoyed, especially the big production of Mary Poppins – especially because of its familiar story (thanks again to Mike and Kate!) Depending what you go to and how far ahead you plan, theatre can even be fairly inexpensive. But by going to theatre, or live music, or even opening up to new types of music, you can easily become more cultured. Listening to someone else’s opinion is always free – especially at Hyde Park’s speaker’s corner…

At the end of any given day, the streets and the public “bins” (garbage cans) are littered with free newspapers. This is London’s private sector’s way of encouraging propaganda. It’s also a good way to see what kind of news is making the headlines and stay in tune with the main happenings of the city. The three big free papers are METRO, London Lite, and (my favorite) the London Paper. The problem with the free papers is that all they do is scrape the surface of the matter and though they talk about big issues, never actually offer a solution or reasoning. A couple of the papers are extremely leftists and all they can talk about is how corrupt big business has become, or how global warming is going to kill us all, or how last week some celebrity wore red underpants. And sport. But it’s definitely better than leaving everyone in the dark about current affairs. It probably is an overall positive for society. After all, if the readers don’t agree with what they’re reading, they can throw it away without guilt.

In the past months, I’ve learned how to make a budget and stick to it. I have learned to cook different types of meals and eat healthy. I’ve learned how to out-drink a ton of my friends and still make it home in one piece. I have learned more about America living in London than I ever did actually visiting like how to differentiate American accents. (Sometimes I can even tell what southern state some damn tourist comes from without even reading their State College sweatshirt.) I’ve learned more about European culture: rivalries, opinions of nationals, history, etc, than I ever could have in a textbook. I may not keep all of the friends I’ve made over the last half year, but they can rest assured they’ve definitely enhanced my London cultural experience – and I didn’t have to pay a thing for it.

This post comes to you 6 months in the making; today being, of course, my half-anniversary here in foggy London town. Countless questions and unanswered mysteries are coming to mind daily. I always find it ironic to be walking down the street and to hear London calling by the Clash, ironic only because even if London wasn’t actually calling, people would continue to come. The ongoing joke is that the Pols and the Aussies will eventually take over (more sooner than later) and there will be no actual English people left. But things still bother me. Even after a great deal of search and research, I still can’t figure out, besides being a once powerful (super-powerful) nation, why Great Britain is so dang rich; why the pound continues to be so strong; and why it is, despite the overwhelming conception that English people are rude and their weather comparable, that people continue to flock here. Now, normally I would say something sly like and “I guess we’ll never know.” But in this case, I think it’s that cultural question that makes it so fun…

Grills, Smokers and Choices

2007-04-02T17:04:00.000-06:00

“The big one tastes just like the little one.”

Today was a beautiful sunny day in London. Slightly breezy, but when the sun comes out, you don’t even think to complain. In London it looks like spring all through the winter, but when the tulips are planted in central London, now that it’s “summer time”, everyone knows what time of year it is: spring. And what’s better than a plain old patio? It’s our cultural topic of the week, of course!

BBQ

In the world, there are four main types of patios. Patios have:
A) a table and chairs
B) a barbeque
C) a table and chairs and a barbeque (both a & b)
D) none of the above.

There are other variations too, like being affixed to a garden, but the key ingredients are listed in the above multiple choice list. To be a properly equipped patio the correct answer is C). A) and B) are acceptable substitutes, but there is no excuse for D).

Now that we’re clear on that, first, I’d like to rub in the fact that it’s still snowing in Canada. I realize that it’s probably not THAT cold, but it’s still colder than here and that’s what’s worth talking “aboot”. As it still stands the international conception of Canada is that it’s just a vast, mountainous country covered in snow and cold – sometimes, like this week, they’re right.

Today after work, my friend and I met up with my flatmates on our patio. We brought frankfurters, a loaf of bread (in lieu of buns), ketchup, mustard, mayo, and black pudding (which is surprisingly good…try some.) and had a good ol’ fashioned cook-off. It was, like I mentioned before, slightly breezy (which eventually drove us inside because of being too cold) but overall, it was pleasant. The barbeque was only about 30cm wide and 40cm long, but did the job and made the apartment smell nice. My shirt still smells like cooking meat. Delicious.

Second, I saw something tonight that I’ve never seen before: a disposable barbeque. Like a disposable camera, the one-time-use barbeque serves as an excellent alternative to having no barbeque at all. The proper barbeque is on the way, jut like the table and chair set they ordered. It should be here sometime between the hours of 9am and 9pm between the days of now and sometime in the future.

Third, in purchasing a barbeque, one huge decision must be made: Propane or Charcoal. (or electric, but that’s lame) As most people know, Hank Hill sells propane and propane accessories and prefers propane-grilled steaks. Propane offers a consistent, reliable heat source and are relatively easy to start, run and turn off. Equally, charcoal, especially in combination with hickory or other smokers, offer a nicer, richer flavour. Heat control is less accurate and because there is not an unlimited supply of coals, the heat eventually runs out. So realistically, the choice is between ease and flavour.

Fourth, my flatmate is Australian. This evening it was confirmed that Australians do, in fact, “throw another shrimp on the barbi”, but not really. They would actually throw another “Prawn…on the barbi”.

Last but not least, next time you cook up a steak you are going to have to choose whether to fry it up quickly and make do or to flame broil it on the searing hot grill. So, above all remember this: barbeques are sweet. End of story. Oh, and also, drinking beer on the patio is also fun. So do that too.

Springing Forward

2007-03-26T17:24:00.000-06:00

So one thing many people depend on is a good haircut. I was once voted most consistent hair in the office. If there’s one thing that I HAVE to do everyday it’s do my hair. If you have ever seen me with hair undone, it was probably because I was sick or something or you just saw me before I got a chance to do so. I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty vain. I’m judgmental. When I see someone dressed like a slob, I feel like they’re doing society an injustice. So, as a respect to society I feel like I should dress to the status quo, say please and thank you, and especially do my hair. Today, I had a bad haircut, which brings us to the cultural topic of the week:

DAYLIGHT SAVINGS

Last week I went to Greenwich, where latitude 0 and 360 meet. I, like everyone, stood on the meridian and had my photo taken and thought I was the coolest person alive as I straddled what may or may not actually be the real meridian…the place where time zero actually exist – give or take zero seconds with a margin of error of zero. But even here, in Greenwich Standard time, they have to change the clocks twice a year…

Daylight savings gives the luxury of an extra hour of daylight in the summer so that everyone can take advantage of longer days. The English, because of their undying need to be different, call daylight savings “Summer Time” (not to be confused, with the classic by Ella Fitzgerald), which actually makes sense, but since it’s not a universally recognized name, we won’t get into it. Daylight Savings was originally created so that farmers and other labourers could have longer workdays in the summer months, when the heaviest workload takes place. Since days are longer on both ends, both evening and night, having the sun rise an hour later easily adds on an extra hour to the afternoon. Come mid-July, the days start to become shorter again until the dead of winter.

This year, because of some weird circumstance, North America set their clocks ahead three weeks before Europe, giving the smallest time difference possible. From home, I was only 6 hours ahead (normally 7) and normalcy wasn’t restored until this last weekend. Because of opposing seasons, Eastern Australians are now 11 hours from home, whereas 3 days ago they were a mere 9, but at least they switched over on the same day.

Personally, I think they should one year switch to daylight savings time and just stay there, leaving the sunlight where it belongs – in the afternoon. But that would mean kids would have to go to school in the dark. And I guess when it comes down to it, everyone’s a little bit afraid of the dark.

My flat mates didn’t actually find out about daylight savings time until today (Monday) when they looked at their updated mobile phones at what they believed to be 730, which, of course, was actually one full hour later. Having to work on the weekend, they make it very clear that “yes, this IS the weekend we set the clocks ahead” and because of this, I’ve been in tune with the changes for many years past. Problem with daylight savings switch is that it is mostly done by word of mouth. I realise now that had I not had to work on the weekend, I, like my flat mates would have been completely oblivious to the change. It must be one of the worst publicized events in world.

When I went in for the haircut today I followed normal procedure. I went to the same hairdresser that I usually go to get my £6 haircut. Afterwards, I also walked around in Camden and then made my way home. The hairdresser I had today was from South Africa and thought London was “shit” so I asked him why he didn’t just move. He said he was planning on moving to Bristol and asked if I had ever been there. I said no. Then he cut my bangs shorter than they have ever been, and basically butchered the entire operation.

An average human head has 100 000 hair follicles. Average hair loss is approximately 100 hair per day. Average hair growth is 15 millimeters per month which by my calculations is an average hair growth of 0.0000289mm per hour. What this means is that having a bad haircut on the day after daylight savings means that that’s one hour of hair growth I won’t get back until fall.

CHEERS!

2007-03-19T14:21:00.000-06:00

“Always remember that I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me” – Sir Winston Churchill

This topic is one that needs no introduction. To be honest, I have wanted to write about this subject since the first weekend I landed in this country, but never really had what I thought was the right ammunition to be able to properly equip the forces that are needed to go up against this huge topic. But with St Patrick’s Day, the international celebration Irish culture, this past weekend, I thought it fitting to finally bring out the big guns. (I don’t know if you heard, but I did over a thousand). If you know anything about English-Irish relations, you’ll know that they have their differences; but if there’s one thing that can bring them together – a thing that the Irish are known for and something the English are pretty good at it too – it would be this week’s cultural topic of the week:

DRINKING

In one of my first weekends in London, my cousin and I ventured over to a little jazz bar in Primrose hill. Seated next to us was an old man nearly passed out from having drank too much on a Sunday afternoon. Next to him was another group of elderly people going hard with a couple of already empty bottles of white wine laughing and cheering as the musicians played. It was at this moment that I realized why, in my travels, I had always been slaughtered when I went up against brits playing drinking games. Kids drink beer with their parents as young as 8 or 10 and already appreciate a good bitter by the time they reach 12.

In North America, most kids are exposed to drinking in high school and college, and really don’t understand the concept of moderation. Governments claim it’s an epidemic and that kids should be stopped. I think there’s probably some truth to that, but I also think the best way to stop someone from liking something is to make them overindulge. This, after all, is why I no longer (happily) drink Molson Canadian. Binge drinking is why people don’t like certain drinks. Binge drinking also allows people to (sometimes too often) experiment with their limits. But that’s the bad side of drinking.

Medical studies prove that drinking can help fight heart disease. Psychological studies prove that drinking can relax your nerves. Students and non-students alike can vouch that drinking can be the centre of a social event. Drinking helps people express they way they really feel. I often drink a beer while I’m writing; it’s not that drinking makes me a better writer, but I suppose it may make me a more creative one. Ironically, the one post I actually talk about it, I don’t have a beer on my desk. One thing I’m bad for, and if you have ever been drunk around a computer I know you can relate, is trying to write an email to a girl you like (and I know this happens to some of us more than others). And you will also know, there’s that threshold where you go from all-out confession to complete incomprehensible nonsense, wehren othoing you try ot write mkeas ayn ensse at all…and then what could have been a sweet note just makes you look like a ottal omorn.

In Canada, (excl. Quebec), you can pretty much only buy liquor at liquor stores and in many provinces all stores are government run, highly taxed, and highly regulated. There are different drinking laws from province to province, including age variances, which means that depending on where you are determines whether you can drink at age 18 or 19 and if you are unlucky enough to live in the USA, you can’t legally touch it until three years after you can legally vote, make porn, and fight in the army.

In England there are many options for the acquisition and consumption of liquor. First, off license shops, aka convenience stores, can sell liquor until 11pm and are easily the greatest source for canned beer and bottled spirits. Within a five minute walk of my apartment, there are no fewer than ten off license shops to choose from with varying prices from shop to shop. Grocery supermarkets also sell liquor and often give even better prices than the “offies”. The standard off license price for a tall can of beer (500ml) is around 1GBP.

Second, and probably the most popular choice for liquor consumption are pubs. Pubs are usually set up with seating for most everyone, usually offer a reasonably priced, full range of drinks, and will usually offer traditional English pub food, free of cover charge. Pub patrons usually flock in after work and are gone after last call, also at 11pm. Busier pubs may have extended liquor licenses which allow them to stay open later, until 12 or 1am. Standard price for pint of beer 2.50-3.20GBP.

Third, bars are more or less contemporary pubs. The furniture may be more modern, food may not be so English traditional, and the drinks may be slightly higher end. Drinks will cost more, things will look more expensive and the general setting will look slightly more sterile. Most men’s rooms will also have an attendant…which always pisses me off. On Friday, Saturday, and special events, they may also have dance floors. Varying closing times. Standard pint: 3-4GBP.

Last, but not least, clubs are hands down the most expensive way to drink. Invariably, there is a cover charge. Clubs, like they are anywhere, are focused around the DJ or music genre, varying from salsa or swing to trance, house or drum & bass. The music will be the central attraction and it is usually hard to visit. London is renowned as one of the frontrunners in international club culture. Standard drink price: 330ml bottle of beer: 4-5GBP, single cocktail: 5-7GBP.

There are, obviously variations:
- Gastro pubs, similar to pubs, offer a similar setting, but will generally be pricier, will serve a greater selection and will focus on higher end foods.
- Student pubs will offer even cheaper beer and drinks and are ideal for students or budget travelers.
- Superclubs charge mega-pounds to get in, a crapload for coat check, and highly inflated drink prices. Super clubs are mainly designed for those not looking to drink and are more focused on doing drugs and dancing to otherwise undanceable music.

We always learned in economics that alcohol is an inelastic good. What this means is that no matter the price, the general population will continue to consume it, and as the English culture has shown, this is probably true. The English have always had a pretty solid reputation, but for a drinking culture seem to be pretty easy going about the whole subject. The American icon Homer Simpson probably said it best: “To alcohol…the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.”

Before moving, I always shared the title of “drunk cousin” with my cousin, Janis, who also lives here. I earned my title by demonstrating “the shotgun” as my notable skill during a presentation at a family reunion; I’m not sure how long she’s held hers. Anyway, I told you that story to tell you this one: since as long as I can remember, my grandmother has always given me little gifts of money with a nice little note saying “go buy some candy” or “go buy a pop” or something. When I came London she sent us some money, again, but this time the note read: “To Kai and Janis, Go have a drink at a pub!” So though it’s a strange topic to do so with, I’d like to dedicate this post to Grammy.

Cheers.

Misty Mountain Hop

2007-03-13T20:43:00.000-06:00

I’m sure I’ve touched on this one before, but I constantly get asked why it was that I would move to England. At first, I really didn’t know why either. I am a proud Canadian and an avid snowboarder so when it really comes down to it, moving halfway around the world to a country with virtually no mountains and absolutely no snow makes absolutely no sense. For the first few months my answer to the question would always be: “Meh, why not?” Well, for starters, the cost of living in England is among the world’s highest, the food really isn’t all that great, and the English people generally aren’t overly friendly. At first I, too, was confused. At my first job, I was barely even making enough money to cover food costs, let alone put any into travel and savings. But now, after a couple months of proper income, I now truly why I came to London: The weekend getaway.

The weekend getaway is a new concept and though this is technically the second weekend getaway I have taken, I proudly present this blog’s first ever official Weekend Getaway topic:

The French Alps

Working in the mountain sports industry, it has been hard up until now seeing people all buying equipment for one of my greatest passions, but this past weekend, I got my first real life taste of ski culture in Europe. I am, of course, generalizing and therefore assuming that ski culture in Austria, Italy and Switzerland (the other Alps countries) is similar to that in France. In some resorts in Switzerland, it is actually technically possible to go into another country and them come back into Switzerland all in the same run. Cool, eh?
Though there is sometimes snow and there do exist ski resorts in the western Scottish mountains, most English people are forced into Europe if they want to hit the slopes. Alpine skiing (downhill – not to be confused with Nordic skiing, ie. cross-country) can be done in many countries in Europe, and though the largest mountains and highest peaks are in the Alps, many vacationers head to Sweden, Bulgaria, Slovakia and even Northern Spain in search of snow. From London it is possible to drive yourself to virtually anywhere in Europe, but for the most part weekend or even week-long package deals are the easiest and cheapest ways to go.
In one of the best recent snow years in the Rockies and, ironically, one of the worst ever years in Alps, I was still determined to use my snowboard (yep, the old K2) that I foolishly brought to England. And, as always, determination paid off. My flat mate (roommate – for those in North America) and I booked a neat little package getaway through skiweekends.com which began on a Thursday afternoon at 5pm at London Victoria Coach station, would make a couple stops further along the way and carry-on through the night to arrive at our quaint little mountain village, Brides-les-Bains, in the lower Méribel valley. We would have three full days on the slopes of including legendary ski hills of Méribel, Courchevel, and Val Thorens, which make the greater Les 3 Vallées, the world’s largest ski resort. The package included 2 nights in a hotel, two overnights/door-to-door transportation on a licensed coach and 5 full meals (including desert!)…the only thing it was really missing was the lift pass and unlimited booze!

Being back at work on Monday is always like getting hit with reality. Sleeping on a coach and going without a shower makes it even harder, but even with major traffic delays on the M25 headed back into London, knowing that you just had three full spectacular days in the mountains really softens the blow.

Of the countless (more like 250) pictures of the French mountain valleys I photographed over the weekend, I can’t actually decide which ones I like the best from my first trip to the Alps. I was, of course, working with equipment I was not overly familiar with, since, as stated in an emergency entry, I lost my own little camera. The weather was pretty much unbelievable allowing for clear skies, great light and, just our luck, a dusting of snow each night. Basically, we couldn’t have asked for much better conditions. I even came out of the whole deal with a killer goggle tan – all thanks to the weekend getaway!

So now whenever anyone asks me why I came to London, my has changed and often goes a little something like this: “What did you do last weekend? Oh, I went snowboarding in France.” That’s why.

Bowling out of turn - Emergency Post

2007-03-07T17:22:00.000-07:00

So this comes at an odd time, following an odd occation, because of an unusual event and will come online as an unadulterated piece without edits. This post will include no photos and will not be about a cultural event (unless you enjoy doing what I have experienced tonight). This is a straight up rant. In fact, I'll tell you the message of this whole story even before you read it:

Don't get all bogged down in all the bullshit.

This morning when I woke up, I was in one of those moods you just sometimes get in. Overall, I am a very positive person and the kind of "moods I get in" are good ones. I get into the kind of mood where nothing will hurt me; where nothing with bring me down and where no matter what, that day, I will have a good day. Today, I worked all day, as per usual in a positive attitude and because of going to work early one day on the weekend, was able to get off early. I work in a high people-traffic aka touristy area of London, Covent Garden and as I met two friends of mine for dinner and bowling, there was some Avon event taking up the bulk of the main piazza in the market. There were bright flashing lights, there was music and there was a lineup for people to get free avon makeovers. I did NOT participate. But I DID take a picture. I was wearing my black gap jacket, a new cowboy-style shirt I bought this week at H&M and jeans.

I then walked through another touristy area, Leicester (pronounced Lester) Square, stopped in a McDonalds, waited in line, ate a large size Big Mac Meal at a table that was kind of dirty, left, walked kitty corner across the street to the Trocadero, where my two friends and I went up an escalator and went to the bowling alleys. As I was putting on my (still warm/very recently worn) bowling shoes, this is when I realized what was wrong. Somewhere between taking the picture at Covent Garden and replacing the camera in my jacket's breast pocket and the Trocadero, I lost my camera.

Yes, I swore. I swore a great number of times. In fact, I even swore at myself as I ran back to McDonalds, thinking that where the camera must have been. I have come to a conclusion: either there are no honest people left in the world, or I simply didn't leave it there. Sad part is, I'll never actually know which one it is.

Now when I'm traveling, to me, my camera often might even take precedent over my passport. It may be the Japanese in me, but I just LOVE taking pictures of things I see. Stupid things, cool things, strange things, normal things, whatever. Thing is, you can replace a passport; you cannot replace pictures. Pictures are memories; passports are simply tools used to achieve them. (though I understand losing your passport is a HUGE pain in the ass)

Losing your camera is also, let me a assure you, also a HUGE pain in the ass. This is also, might I add, the second time I have either lost my camera or had it stolen in the last two and a half years. As I realised what had just happened, I was pissed; I can't lie about that. But the most important thought that came to mind was that I had, in reality only lost 2 pictures that I had taken. So really, it could have been worse. And just in case it was unclear, losing your camera REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY sucks.

But here's the lesson for all you people who always get bogged down in all the bullshit. Don't worry about things you can't control; it will only bring you down.

Now, I'm suggesting that everyone should go into central London and lose their cameras and that because I only lost two pictures everything is all good. Afterall, through all of my trips in the past year and a half, that camera has been (the replacement to) my best friend. Tomorrow, I am going snowboarding in the French Alps for the weekend (where I've never been before) and I REALLY wanted my camera to be there with me. But I'll live.

When push comes to shove, all I'm saying is that most people would get really depressed about something like losing the second most important (non-living) object in their life (my camera), but no word of a lie, what I said once I stopped pretty much five minutes of straight swearing was: "Well, that sucks, but fuck it. Let's go Bowling." After all, if you can't shrug off the bad, that's all you'll ever end up seeing and you'll never actually experience all the great things life has to offer.

So for fear of sounding like some stupid religion-based uplifting mass email, wake up tomorrow in a good mood and stay that way - even if you lose your camera - and don't get bogged down in all the shit that WILL (not might) happen. After it's done there are two things you can do: get negged or stay postive. If you stay positive life will just be better for everyone.

Thanks for your time.

ps. it actually feels alot better to get that down rather than having it all cramped up, so a sincere thanks for reading.
pps. in case you were wondering, I won both games.

Right is Right after all

2007-03-05T16:49:00.000-07:00

I hate to brag about this, but I’ve been having a problem as of late. (I’m not bragging about having one, but rather that one exists – and I’m not actually bragging about something that has created this problem for me.) As most people know, the Brits drive on the left (wrong) side of the road. According to a UK driving website, there are 68 countries in the world that also drive on the left. (However, this list is inaccurate, since the list includes Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and the Channel Islands, which, according the UN recognized nations, are not independent countries, but are actually part of the greater United Kingdom of Great Britain.) But, for all intents and purposes, approximately one quarter of the world’s countries drive on the left, and all, with the exception of Japan, are British Colonies. In the game of colonization, landed country-folk instituted their own country’s driving laws. In the Americas, for example, the Spanish and Portuguese settled South America, France took Quebec and Louisiana, and the Dutch settled New York (formerly New Amsterdam). Thus, two right-driving continents were born. So, though the British had a major presence in the area, they simply came out on the wrong side (pun intended) of the debate. As settlers moved east to west throughout North America, they took with them the tradition of driving on the right. This is why growing up with a driving slogan like “right is right” always felt, well, right (correct). Moral of this brief history lesson is the basis for my problem and is also this week’s cultural topic:

TRAFFIC

Though, I suppose, more accurately, my problem is: looking the wrong way while crossing the street.
This problem stems, of course from two things:
a) It seems that every country I go to alternates which side they drive on.
b) I’m apparently retarded.

The London public transport system is based on a zoning system beginning with Zone 1 (central) through zone 6 (moving outward). I have previously talked about the London Underground for which this zoning system especially applies. Luckily, I live in Zone 1 and commute to work on foot (though some days I also use an elevator), so road traffic doesn’t usually get in my way.

In Canada and the US, kids can’t wait to turn 16. Why? Because the vast majority of kids are legal to drive in their province or state at this age. Rich kids get cars from their parents for their 16th birthdays even though they won’t be (il)legally able to drink (and drive) for another 2/3/5 years. Nobody I know has just recently turned 16, so it’s not a very topical subject, but yesterday it rained in sunny England. In a car, the difference between cold day and rainy day is simply the flick of a wiper switch to on. Sometimes drivers act stupid in the rain, but for the most part, nothing really changes. Without the luxury of a car, though, you begin to see rain for what it really is…not snow.

In London (can’t speak for all the UK), public transport is second to none. What this means is that most people don’t actually NEED to have a car, and to make matters worse, many full grown people don’t (and don’t really need to) have a drivers permit. People who own cars aren’t often in the mood to drive too often because traffic is often horrible; and those who drive often are often in horrible moods because of horrible traffic. To alleviate traffic in central London, they have set up what they call a “congestion charge” (driving tax) for all cars going in and out of the “congestion zone” in peak times. Charges can be paid in person, on the telephone, or on the internet. This tax, in addition to generating revenue, attempts to both cut down on traffic and pollution as well as encourages people to take advantage of the public transportation. If the incentives prove effective, fewer people will pollute, everyone will be healthier, and global warming and accelerated climate change will finally be over. Then what will the hippie eco-nuts have to complain about?

Really, it all just comes down to not having enough space. I guess really everything is smaller in England: apartments, cars, food portioning…even people. I’m not sure how native Londoners rate on the world wide size scale, but I bet it’s not too high. Moreover, because so few own cars, they’ll never know how to fix them. The other day I was tired and made a joke about needing “a boost – because my alternator wasn’t charging my battery properly” and no one understood. Now, I realize it’s not a good joke, but I should have at least gotten some snickers (though I prefer Mars)…The point is, they didn’t know what an alternator was.

Gasoline, or “Petrol” as they call it, is ridiculously expensive. To demonstrate, take the price of a liter of gasoline in Canada, add 20cents and then turn that number into Pounds. GBP = 2.30CAD. At the pump, English taxes are as high as 78% on gasoline. At first, I thought “hey, gas is cheap here” but then realized I was retarded and that even though they still count in miles, they have enough sense to count gasoline in liters, not gallons (a UK gallon is more than a US gallon!)… Ironically, milk is measured in imperial pints.

Roads? Don’t make sense. In 1666, the city of London caught on fire and burned to the ground. Around this same time, many cities in Europe were conceptualizing what is now known as the grid system, whereby streets and avenues are arranged in parallel sequences in order to make city development and planning easier and more adaptable. After what is aptly named the Great Fire of London, city planners decided against a grid system and instead, opted for the previously established, often one-way roads to be reinstated in their original fashion. What this means now is that any walking/biking/driving commuter/tourist/bum can get lost/found/re-lost at any time of the day and not have the slightest idea of which direction they might be moving. In fact, whoever (re)designed London should be brought back to life, forced to fix his stupid error, and then shot.

The fact is London has many beautiful things to see. Just make sure you can find your way; don’t get stuck in the traffic; and remember, don’t look the wrong way when you cross the street!

FYI: The reason Japan drives on the left is because after being left in shambles after WWII, the Japanese modeled their development as an accelerated English industrialization. Both being island nations with import-based economies, Japan has adopted and further perfected many technologies in which the English had previously been leaders as they were during the industrial revolution. Luckily for the Japanese, they did not also adopt British cuisine… not that they’re bragging.

Another Country Unmasked

2007-02-26T16:00:00.000-07:00

“My other car is a boat; my other road is a canal.”

People often complain that London is just too dang busy. These same people claim that it’s an attractive place to visit for a while, but I couldn’t live there. I’m not going to lie and say they’re wrong. In London, there are going to be people around you all the time. But really, when it comes down to it, if you don’t like crowds, a) don’t live in a big city, b) don’t leave your house or apartment, and c) if you DO live in the city and you DO leave home, don’t go out when there are city-wide parties going on. In the past couple of weeks here in London there have not been any interracial parties happening…so I shipped out to Italy in search of one. In the Christian religion, lent is the period between Ash Wednesday and Easter. In Venice, in the days leading up to Ash Wednesday, we found that party. This week’s culture topic of the week is:

CARNIVAL

Of course, the Italians spell it “Carnivale”, but that’s because they speak a language other than English. That language is Italian. And just to clarify my stance on this: if you have never been to a country that didn’t speak your language, go now (and try to learn a couple words.)

Carnival is a ten day festival designed as one last chance to excess and binge on supposed sinful things before the fasting and abstinence that happen during lent. In Italy, the biggest party happens in Venice, where the first carnival was recorded in the late 13th century. Masks are worn as a sign of revolt against past laws that prohibited anything that “masked” the soul, but have been traditionally worn year round in courtship and other festivities. I don’t know a lot about this tradition, but what I do know is that when one shows their masked face, it is a sign that one they are interested in the other.
Carnivale = Party = Fine with me!

Venezia (Venice, in English) is, of course, located in the north-eastern corner of Italy, on the Adriatic Sea and is best known for its streets made entirely out of water (ie. Canals). Venice is an island located approximately 4km off the mainland (though connected by a bridge), and is the former capital of the region of Veneto and home to some of the great renaissance musicians, artists and innovators (Vivaldi, Mozart, Da Vinci), home to many amazing museums and sights, setting for many great stories (Merchant of Venice, Casa Nova), and the origins for much naval technology. Apparently there have been two major cultural slams on Venice, the first being when the Austrians invaded, and the second (just after they finally got the ball rolling again) when Napoleon invaded. Anyone else see an invasion trend going on?

Things to do: walk around, take pictures, take a boat and/or gondola (traditional Venetian boat that is literally a certifiable art and trade that almost always runs in the family and is not easy to achieve at all) ride, eat pizza/pasta/Chinese food/supermarket food/all in one day, and of course drink espresso based drinks and wine. In fact, if you only ingest two things in Italy make sure they are espresso and wine. Not only will they counterbalance each other, they will also be delicious…unless you drink the coffee from a can and/or the wine from a box. Fact: chains like Starbucks are designed after the Italian cafés; in Italy, Starbucks is nowhere to be found. Eerie, almost.

Nightlife is the highlight of the city during Carnival, and no matter where you go there are people around. Each and every little piazza has its own little demonstration and/or dance party, live band, drink stand, DJ, exciting performer, or maybe just drunk people standing around drinking and having fun. Carnival ends in a massive gathering at Piazza San Marco (St Mark’s Square – sounds cooler in Italian, eh?) and fireworks display over the harbour with music and awe. The jazz band was cool too.

Masks are more of a fad for tourists in Venice than a true ongoing tradition and you can get a mask starting at 5 Euros a pop. I got mine at the same place that built the masks for the movie “Eyes Wide Shut”, an art-house style movie starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman (their last together). It’s creepy. Most people’s are not. In fact, most are based on characters, like happy, sad, evil, two-face, the dame, and the hero. The list goes on, and of course they all have real names, but I don’t know them.

Great ski days hinge on three major things: good snow, sunny skies and the people you’re there with. Long weekend getaways to north-eastern Italy are apparently quite similar. Blue skies make for nice pictures, no snow means the world is not going to end, and good people make for more fun. Oh, and masks. And espresso.

As a tribute to the Oscars that took place last night, (which I couldn’t have cared less about) I’d like to first thank the academy. I’d also like to thank RyanAir for supplying Europe with discount airfares and for allowing me to buy a return flight for less than 5 GBP plus taxes. I’d like to thank the internet for providing an endless source of information and for giving me the necessary access to pre-book hostels online. I’d like to thank my work for giving me the time off and paying me a steady wage (though it could be higher) so that I could budget a trip. I’d like to thank the wine and coffee growers who provided me with (most often) nice tasting and (most often) reasonably priced beverages and the people I shared them with. Most of all, though, I’d like to thank the country of Italy for being the 20th country on my list:

Gratie, la Vita è Bella!

A little healthy competition

2007-02-18T17:53:00.000-07:00

Even before you start reading, I’ll be the first to admit: this week’s post is going to be a major stretch. I’m headed to the airport in about 1.5 hours to go see the sights and sounds of Italy and catch the tail end of Venice’s renowned Carnival. But (and though you’ll notice I’ll allude to many previous posts and much interesting pop and past culture) I made myself a promise that I would not miss a week, and even being in a different country does sound tempting, it has not become an acceptable excuse…so there will be no relevant pictures and I’ll just cut straight to the chase. This week’s ECTW (English Cultural Topic of the Week) is:

TEA

One thing I am still having trouble grasping is the English fascination with tea.
Asian countries drink green tea. Indian people drink spice chai. In Morocco they serve up a mad mint. In Italy, tea is drank with lemon. En France, ils aiment leurs cafés et ne s’inquietent pas avec les differents types de tées. In North America, they haven’t quite decided what kind of tea is the best, so you actually just get the choice whenever you order it. English people drink black tea (which, talking about world tea preferences, actually originally comes from India), but with milk or cream and sugar.

Now, I realize that I HAVE spoken on food in previous posts, but for English people, tea, though it is a consumer good and is ingested, is not a food. I’ve dubbed it a cultural topic because it is just that. England has a tea culture. Though not an official stat, I would estimate that nearly 40% of people wake up to a hot cup of tea, rather than coffee. In fact, it totally discredits Folgers advertising and how it being in your cup is the best part of waking up.

Now, personally, I drink my coffee black (unless it’s crap coffee and then I’ll put in some milk, but not too much, and I DO love a latte now and again) so I still can’t get over tainting a perfectly reasonably tasting black tea with milk. The main reason to add milk to coffee is to top it up, or dull down the strong, often bitter (yet ever so refreshing) taste of delicious, life-giving coffee. But many have accused me of being somewhat of a caffeine addict. I think they’re wrong. Point is, tea, not matter how black they claim it is or looks, does not have as strong a flavour as coffee. Coffee is still dominated by the all mighty Starbucks and is closely followed by Café Nero and Costa Coffee. These “coffee chains” also sell tea. Sellouts.

Having said that, upon arrival, I never understood why preparing tea would be an afternoon long event (and of course, when I finally figured it out, it was one of those “oh, I’m such a moron” kind of reactions.) The words tea and dinner are used interchangeably. What this means is that “having a Cumberland pie for tea” is nothing like “dunking your doughnut in your coffee”.

As mentioned in an earlier post, England is facing an obesity crisis and the daily free newspapers still have yet to give it a rest. England remains the third fattest nation in Europe, and the government is pushing toward healthier eating. There are currently two major health campaigns going on in England. The first being a health regime based on eating at least 5 servings of fruit or vegetable each day, the second being a push for herbal tea. This herbal (pronounced here with a hard ‘H’) craze is being lead by blueberry and passion-fruit teas, because in addition to being delicious, they also contain helpful cancer-fighting anti-oxidants.

Once upon a time a friend of mine told me that if you leave an anti-oxidant-rich tea bag in your tea for longer than about an hour to an hour and a half, the cancer fighting power can actually be eliminated and after a few hours can actually be counterproductive to the original cause. I thought this was bunk, but turns out it’s true after all. So watch out, coffee: there’s a new kid in town.

Want more facts about tea? In North America everyone takes coffee breaks at work; in England, they take tea breaks. One of the non-winter-countries’ passions is cricket; Cricket games last for days; though they take daily breaks to sleep and eat, part way through each day of play; players get a rest so they can drink tea (and probably talk about how great tea is). The Boston tea party took place in 1773 in Boston harbour and was a sabotage of a British tea delivery to those living in New England, who at the time drank far more tea than they did coffee. Much of England’s supply of tea is grown domestically in Cornwall. An English company, Tetley was the first company to commercially produce tea bags. Lipton Brisk Lemon Iced Tea, in my opinion is delicious. To American people, iced tea is just hot tea made cold. In Canada, we like it with sugar and lemon in a packaged drink can or bottle.

In England, rain or shine and regardless of whether the weather is hot or cold, there’s one thing you can bet your boots on: they’ll have their tea hot, black and with milk, cream and/or sugar.

New Year: Take Deux!

2007-02-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

So here’s a cute little story for you: I went bowling last Saturday night in an area in NW London Paddington called Queensway. The bowling alley is in a place called Queen’s Ice Bowl located just around the corner from the Tube Station. I walked there from Covent Garden an including a quick stop at Subway (the restaurant). According to Google Maps, it’s about 3.5 miles; it took just over an hour. After meeting up with my friends, we bowled two games, where I did not bowl to my normal standard, scoring 111 in both games. (To put it into perspective, normally under 130 I consider a complete failure; the weekend before last (no, I’m not that avid a blower) I bowled 149 – slightly more typical.) Moral of this story is: in the early stages of my walk, I passed through an annual, international (though nationally focused) celebration and is the cultural topic of the week:

CHINESE NEW YEAR

In London, they’re calling it Shanghai week. I don’t have any pictures of it, because I’m an idiot and the only day I didn’t take my camera with me, I walked right though the heart of the celebrations. China town (the area north of Soho – the name of an area some may recognize from one of The Who’s greatest songs) is littered with lanterns and you can find tons of Chinese people taking after the Japanese and snapping pictures every where they you look.

I had, once upon a time the great pleasure of being in (now) actual China – Hong Kong – at the time of these celebrations. (I say “now” because I was there while Hong Kong was still then still under the lease to the British, which ended in 1997. I always thought it was kind of cool how the Chinese, unlike non-chinese people, got to have two new years every year – Chinese New Year and, of course, “REAL”/Calendar New Year.

Chinese New Year is based on a combination of the lunar cycle and solar movements. Celebrations take place beginning with the first new moon of the New Year and continue for 15 days, ending the lantern festival, celebrates family and thanksgiving, gives Chinese people the chance to start over fresh, and (though unclear) has celebratory roots dating further back than the Qin Dynasty earlier than 221 BC.

Everyone displays little oranges.
Firecrackers are set off.
Kids get little red packets with money. Sometimes candy.
In real China, traditional red dress is worn in the streets.
Everyone eats a big feast with family, fish, dumplings, etc.

For most of my friends and me, this is also our year: the Year of the Boar, which has only ever come one other year (1995) since we were born (1983). On a twelve year cycle, these signs of Chinese astrology signify something important, but I'm really not sure...(what does this look like, wikipedia?). However, in addition to being a big year for the Chinese kids born in the same year as me, this is a big year for China, as preparations for the 2008 Olympics are now underway as well.

As most of you know, I am not Chinese, but last week I made a dish I have not previously attempted. This dish, though not hard to make, was possibly one of the hardest culinary feats I have ever attempted (which I ironic considering my brother is both an excellent AND a trained chef). I made fried rice, which may have been an unconscious salute to my fellow slant-eyed brothers in their time of celebrations, but just in case that wasn’t really clear:

“Kung Hei Fat Choi!”

Internationally Relating

2007-02-05T14:55:00.000-07:00

Globalization, depending on who you are, how you see it, and what you have to gain from it, has mixed connotations. Some see economic/political/technological interdependence as a positive step, whereas there are constantly anti-globalization rallies taking place in an attempt to halt the huge players in the international markets. Globalization, for what my opinion is worth, makes the world a better place. Coca-Cola is the most internationally recognized corporate symbol and ranks in the top three of all symbols; Starbucks is the fastest growing international corporation (expects to open in excess of another 12000 stores worldwide) and McDonalds is leading the pack in fast-food (having served over 99 Billion people). The ability to do international business just makes everything we do just a little easier and with governing bodies like the World Trade Organisation, the EU or NAFTA, parameters are set for all member countires and trade regulations are imposed. America, a global leader in entertainment and pop culture brings us to this week’s (Global) cultural topic of the week:

THE SUPERBOWL

Whether you care about the National Football League (NFL), you’ll undoubtedly have heard of it. In what is known as the world’s biggest sporting event, the two division champions (NFC and AFC) face off in the world’s second most viewed annual sporting event (number one is Europe’s FA Cup – other football.)

The first ever "supersunday" was 1967 when the then two American football league champions played each other. The Dallas Cowboys have the most appearances in the Superbowl with 8, and are in a 3-way tie for victories with 5 (tied with the Steelers and 49ers). This year's/Superbowl XLI match up: the Indianapolis Colts v. the Chicago Bears.

But wait, the Superbowl is played in the USA and never anywhere else. How does that make it an international event? Well, I watched it in England.

In a gathering of hundreds of mostly Americans, I headed down to (ironically) the Canadian bar, the Maple Leaf. If you’ve not heard the score already, you should probably stop reading pretty much right now. The Colts won. Watching the game was tough for me because I have this thing where I just don’t care about either of these teams. I guess I was rooting for the Colts, just because one time I was them and I didn’t get schooled playing Madden on Xbox, but other than that, no allegiances.

The Superbowl is such a big deal that prices start in the millions of dollars, while some huge companies dish out just to get their big break on the big screen. The most expensive ad ever aired during the Superbowl was one for Budweiser a few years ago, and since then, companies frequently premiere their own Superbowl ads during the big game. For many, the ads and the half time show are just as important as the game itself. We had an American satellite feed, so we apparently got the good ones – but none really stuck.

Most English people don’t like the NFL since they think that it’s just a shit-mix between “real football” and rugby. These are the same type of people who don’t like globalization. Americans love American football and with leagues now in Europe, maybe the English should just get with the bloody program – it could be worth millions.

Aussie, Aussie...Day?

2007-01-29T14:44:00.000-07:00

In the UK, banks are closed on Sundays and depending on the bank and/or branch, Saturdays as well. These, however, are not known as bank holidays. Bank, aka statutory holidays are days were normal business does not practice, and where more workers will be compensated based standard wages - New Years, Christmas, Good Friday, Easter - to name a few… In the United Kingdom, there are currently eight.

Recently, there has been a call by the many union leaders for an increase in the number of British bank holidays, since they currently receive far fewer than the European average of 10.8 and furthermore even fewer than Spain and Portugal, who lead the European pack with 14. According to the Trade Union Congress, British people are losing out and are therefore calling for a minimum increase of three days per year.

Each year, on January 26, Australians commemorate the landing of the First Fleet in Sydney Cove in the year 1788. This week’s English Cultural topic is:

Australia Day

Located in the Pacific Ocean, Australia is a constitutional monarchy composed of 6 states and is member of the British Commonwealth, approximately the same size as the continental United States. Australia is home to just over 20 million people, an estimated 40 million kangaroos, 101 million sheep, 27 million cattle, and over 10 thousand beaches. It is the world’s largest beef exporter, has the world’s longest fence and the only nation in the world where you can find marsupials in their own natural habitat. But if all these facts are true, why would you Australians ever want to leave? But on the contrary! It would almost seem that these descendants of 17th and 18th century British criminals just have that knack for travel and are bread into curiosity.

Though Australia day is not a British bank holiday, it would seem that only the English, or rather, the Aussies in England, actually make a big deal about it. After talking to real Australians (but obvious ex-pats) about what they had done for Australia day in past years (living at home), the most overwhelming response was “nothing.”

So, each year, Australians in London flock in hoards to the number of Aussie bars scattered throughout the city. The best parties, allegedly, are at the Walkabout, a popular chain where Australian people can hang out with other Australian people and can talk about Australian things and dance to Australian music like ACDC, Men at Work, or worst comes to worse, INXS. For us, the walkabout in Angel was pretty lame – apparently it was much better on Shaftsbury Avenue or Hammersmith. At the moment, so I hear, the biggest song in Australian bars is one called Rainbow Stylin by a group called Royksopp. We also heard it at our Walkabout.

Strangely enough, because of the time difference, by the time the London-Aussies actually get around to celebrating, a true Australia day will actually be over. I celebrated with my flatmates and Shayan, who was in London for the weekend, direct from Canada. In the spirit of the day (and only the second time since being in London) I wore my cowboy hat, like a good western Canadian would. The queuing for the bar was the highlight of the night and as WE finally got in, everyone ELSE left – but clearing a room HAS always been my forte. I think most Australians in England had a pretty good night.

Since the real Australians don’t really make a big deal of it, maybe the British should adopt this Australian holiday as their own. Alright, that’s silly. But maybe we can just get the Brits some more days off…

It sure is getting cold out.

2007-01-22T16:19:00.000-07:00

“That’s a cool coat, you should buy it.”

I DID have many more interesting topics to discuss this week…but luckily, there was an overwhelming response (3 legitimate comments!) to last week’s memoirs, so I can save those topics for future posts! Yes, I have a new job but for fear of boring you with all of the gory details I’ll just skip to this week’s English Cultural Topic of the week:

WINTER

You’d think that by Christmas one might get some sort of winter feeling time, but now nearly one month later, I must still be in “Wow”/tourist mode, because this winter still just doesn’t feel right. Why? Well, there’s no snow and it’s not cold, of course. There have only been two, maybe three times that I have absolutely NEEDED a winter coat and even then, realistically, it was above Zero Celsius.

As addressed in earlier chapters (posts), Europe – and England specifically – is having an atypical, unseasonably warm late fall and winter. Average highs are as much as 5C warmer than normal. Temperatures are expected to remain around above average for the remainder of the winter months and predictions put precipitation anywhere from average to above average. What this means to me is temperature will be crisp, not cold (but will seem much worse) because we’ll be wet all the time…

So far I haven’t experienced typical “English winter”, which allegedly calls for unceasing, non-stop rain seven days a week. And as for sun? Don’t count on it. So, either I’ve brought good luck to the English weather, or the kooks obsessed with climate change and global warming are finally right.

Up to now it’s been bizarre not seeing snow, but I’m getting used to it – just in time for this week’s forecast, which is finally calling for (yep, you guessed it) SNOW! Temperatures are also dropping, and even with my double-glazed windows, evenings seem cold in my apartment. I haven’t seen snowfall since LAST winter – though there was snow on the ground at Christmas. Needless to say, I’m kind of excited.

As most people know, England’s landscape (in addition to weather) is pretty “blah”. Since the only mountains in the UK are found in Scotland and the only snow that falls never accumulates, Britons are forced out of their own country in search of snow covered peaks and winter fun. Many take the easy route and make it the Swiss/Austrian/French/Italian Alps, while some splurge and venture across the Atlantic to find the bigger (and apparently – though I don’t yet know first hand – better) North American Rockies.

Enter my new job. I am now officially a “Technical Sales Advisor” in outdoor apparel store. Staffed by a virtual United Nations, in a steady-paying combination of my sales experience and a love of the outdoors, I can finally make a fortune…for a highly reputable, relatively small, family-owned and operated company. So far, so good. Cool workmates, better work hours, friendly clientele and a regular income. Am I happier here? Definitely. (Plus, I got a bank account!)

Londoners, and visitors alike, flock in everyday and drop thousands of pounds on clothing, skis/snowboards, climbing and camping equipment, and other various goods; some into serious mountaineering, others just looking for beginner equipment for their first time on the slopes. I work in the clothing department (I sell tuques!) so my job is to suit the people up for their trips, which is not to say, however, that I’m well dressed. Ironically, I’m selling jackets worth more than my car and I’m teaching people about features I’ve never personally seen in action. But it’s fun. Sometimes we have friendly competitions to see who can sell the most hideous coat/combination. But certain people are more easily impulsed than others: often a “that’s a cool coat” is all it takes and some people can be in the store for hours deciding on a pair of skipants. Some people are there to look good on the hill and others are fully educated on every single possible feature and know exactly what they want before they even walk into the store. The best part about the job is seeing people happy when they leave, sometimes in the warmest coat they will ever own.

If only they knew what proper winter was like…