Canada's having an election. It's silly season up here. By mid-morning, the election was officially happening; by 2, we'd had a call about putting up a yard sign, out here in the boonies.
But here's something that's cool. This tool is a window into Canadian political parties: the VoteCompass survey. The developer, based on published statements from the political parties, has prepared sentences. You register how strenuously you agree or disagree with those statements. At the end, you can see which party your views are closest to.
The graph at the end is very interesting. Lots of options in the "socially liberal, politically liberal" quadrant. One in the "socially conservative, politically conservative" quadrant. The other two are empty of parties.
And yes you can take it even if you're not Canadian.
Watching the political theatre unfold over the last few days has erased, once and for all, the illusion that Canadians are polite -- unless Canadian politicians don't count.
It's one thing to know that your job may well end after the vote on the first Tuesday in November, 2012. It's another thing entirely to have all the other people you have been working with stand up and vote that you're impossible to work with. Then you have to go to the Governor General and admit as much. It seems a little humiliating.
Not that I feel sorry for the former Prime Minister. If you treat Canadians' elected representatives with contempt, and then demonstrate only bitterness and irritation for getting called out on it, you don't really care about the Canadian people. Saying that you do, no matter how many times you say it, doesn't make it true.
Too bad the humiliation hasn't taught him humility. Perhaps the voters will.
Showing posts with label Canada Geeks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canada Geeks. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Attentive Electorate
Such doings in Canadian politics! Or maybe not.
The House finds the Harper Government in contempt of Parliament. This seems to be the official version of a head-shaking finger-wagging "tsk tsk," because it doesn't launch any other action. Rather like the non-governmental fallback, the sternly worded letter.
Or, I guess, a censure of a President in the U.S.
And then, the Harper Government proposed a budget that nobody likes. It sure seems like this government is no longer functioning with any pretense at effectiveness.
Still, an election is not absolutely positively certain. More meetings this week. Motions put forward. Votes. Amendments. Et cetera.
This household would probably qualify as "moderately interested" in Canadian federal politics. And here's the conversation during Peter Mansbridge's live interview last night with Finance Minster Jim Flaherty about the budget.
In this upcoming election (maybe! or just more finger-wagging!), half of this household will vote. Given the calibre of attention to the issues evident in the conversation above, what are the chances that the Canadian government will look radically different after the dust (maybe!) settles in some ten or so weeks?
Yep. We can, however, hope that they'll take care of the noodle issue.
The House finds the Harper Government in contempt of Parliament. This seems to be the official version of a head-shaking finger-wagging "tsk tsk," because it doesn't launch any other action. Rather like the non-governmental fallback, the sternly worded letter.
Or, I guess, a censure of a President in the U.S.
And then, the Harper Government proposed a budget that nobody likes. It sure seems like this government is no longer functioning with any pretense at effectiveness.
Still, an election is not absolutely positively certain. More meetings this week. Motions put forward. Votes. Amendments. Et cetera.
This household would probably qualify as "moderately interested" in Canadian federal politics. And here's the conversation during Peter Mansbridge's live interview last night with Finance Minster Jim Flaherty about the budget.
R: Does he [Flaherty] look funny to you?
M: Well, he's orange. See how orange? And now, how blue Peter Mansbridge looks? Wow, I hope they switch back and forth again. Look at that: Orange. Blue. Orange. Geez.
R: It's not just that. It's his hair.
M: He's wearing a ton of makeup.
R: But doesn't it look like he's wearing black-and-silver noodles on his head?
M: Yeah. Eww. Hey, did he say anything?
[crickets]
In this upcoming election (maybe! or just more finger-wagging!), half of this household will vote. Given the calibre of attention to the issues evident in the conversation above, what are the chances that the Canadian government will look radically different after the dust (maybe!) settles in some ten or so weeks?
Yep. We can, however, hope that they'll take care of the noodle issue.
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Boot? A Boat?
Everybody knows Canadians say "aboot" for the word "about." Well, at least all Americans who have seen Bob and Doug McKenzie know that.
But wait! From a fascinating blog that looks at all kinds of accents comes the assertion "Canadian Raising: Nobody Says Aboot."
I suspect it's dangerous to say that "nobody" says "aboot." However, it's obviously accurate to say that "not all Canadians" say it. And possibly more Canadians don't than do.
Similarly, not all Americans say "y'all" and "all y'all," even though they are extremely useful as gender-neutral ways to convey "you guys."
But hey, what a site! He has clips of Canadians speaking and everything! And introductory material explaining the International Phonetic Alphabet! And maps of accents!!! Go look, but beware: Hours of procrastination ahead!
But wait! From a fascinating blog that looks at all kinds of accents comes the assertion "Canadian Raising: Nobody Says Aboot."
I suspect it's dangerous to say that "nobody" says "aboot." However, it's obviously accurate to say that "not all Canadians" say it. And possibly more Canadians don't than do.
Similarly, not all Americans say "y'all" and "all y'all," even though they are extremely useful as gender-neutral ways to convey "you guys."
But hey, what a site! He has clips of Canadians speaking and everything! And introductory material explaining the International Phonetic Alphabet! And maps of accents!!! Go look, but beware: Hours of procrastination ahead!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Science: Scary or Cool?
Initial answer: Both, but learning science lets you focus on the cool while being appropriately cautious.
For example, Japan and the nuclear plant and all the questions about radiation are easy to classify as "scary." Part of the fear is the "not knowing"--first, not knowing whether you can trust information that comes from the people responsible for accident in the first place.
But the phrase "radiation exposure" itself sounds scary, scarier than it really is. Yes, in some situations, radiation exposure can be dangerous. Safe nuclear energy requires good reactor design, trained specialists, and safe work practices. But not all radiation exposure is lethal. All of us are exposed to radiation every day from the sun.
The fear is unwarranted, but it's also not news. Science literacy has never been strong among the American public, and I daresay "the average Canadian" is not necessarily better informed.
Learning science is definitely NOT scary. Learning anything new is a challenge, but that's not the same as scary. It's entirely possible for average, everyday people to learn about radiation. Yes, even you!! The International Atomic Energy Agency, for example, has very readable udpates and explanations about the situation in Japan.
When you start to pay attention to stories about science, you get to learn about really cool things, like this: A NASA spacecraft is now orbiting Mercury. Mercury has its Sputnik! MSNBC's article about it is here.
And then you can learn about connections between stories. For example, astronauts outside the earth's atmosphere have less protection from the sun's radiation. That's one reason why "unmanned," meaning "without personnel of any gender," spacecraft do so much of the exploration work in the solar system. Here's a page of articles with keywords "radiation" and "safety" from the nasa.gov site. You can see from these stories how NASA has always tried to take appropriate precautions to shield its astronauts.
Which is what we can all do: learn and then take appropriate precautions.
So, the original question needs to be reframed, because here's the answer. Life can be scary. Science can help us rachet down the fear and teach us really cool things.
And that's what we can hang onto during these times when all the stories seem to be about crises.
For example, Japan and the nuclear plant and all the questions about radiation are easy to classify as "scary." Part of the fear is the "not knowing"--first, not knowing whether you can trust information that comes from the people responsible for accident in the first place.
But the phrase "radiation exposure" itself sounds scary, scarier than it really is. Yes, in some situations, radiation exposure can be dangerous. Safe nuclear energy requires good reactor design, trained specialists, and safe work practices. But not all radiation exposure is lethal. All of us are exposed to radiation every day from the sun.
The fear is unwarranted, but it's also not news. Science literacy has never been strong among the American public, and I daresay "the average Canadian" is not necessarily better informed.
Learning science is definitely NOT scary. Learning anything new is a challenge, but that's not the same as scary. It's entirely possible for average, everyday people to learn about radiation. Yes, even you!! The International Atomic Energy Agency, for example, has very readable udpates and explanations about the situation in Japan.
When you start to pay attention to stories about science, you get to learn about really cool things, like this: A NASA spacecraft is now orbiting Mercury. Mercury has its Sputnik! MSNBC's article about it is here.
And then you can learn about connections between stories. For example, astronauts outside the earth's atmosphere have less protection from the sun's radiation. That's one reason why "unmanned," meaning "without personnel of any gender," spacecraft do so much of the exploration work in the solar system. Here's a page of articles with keywords "radiation" and "safety" from the nasa.gov site. You can see from these stories how NASA has always tried to take appropriate precautions to shield its astronauts.
Which is what we can all do: learn and then take appropriate precautions.
So, the original question needs to be reframed, because here's the answer. Life can be scary. Science can help us rachet down the fear and teach us really cool things.
And that's what we can hang onto during these times when all the stories seem to be about crises.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Adventures in Healthcare and Aging, Part Bazillion
"Well, I painted on the strips today."
Thus began a conversation the rest of which I will spare you, because it is about collecting samples for the Fecal Occult Blood Test. Trust me, you haven't lived until you've heard a Canada Geek describe the bridge he made with toilet paper to, uh, facilitate smear collection.
This conversation was a good thing. It happened because a new nurse practitioner clinic opened recently in Thunder Bay. Finally, my retirement-age husband, whose asthma and allergies make him a surprisingly delicate flower most of the year, has healthcare again. See? A good thing.
He had the same family practice doc for decades. This doc finally retired two or three years ago, after threatening to for several years. Apparently physicians in their 70s prefer retirement, what a crazy idea. In any case, the doc referred lots of his patients but "orphaned" more--thousands of patients. Including my husband.
About 18 months ago I got into a regular practice by virtue of knowing people. My husband was accepted by this new nurse practitioner clinic by virtue of my nagging ability and his own good sense. I'm relieved for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that we are now both monitoring our health, collecting information about our bodies when we are healthy, so that when they are not, we have a better chance of noticing.
And as I have said before, ad nauseam (which, LOOK! It's spelled correctly!!), healthcare systems are systems, and are thus inherently flawed. On both sides of the border, proactive care of one's health is important. Which, when one gets to a certain age, means doing the fecal occult blood test.
But only one is at that age. The other of us had our mammogram last year, and is not anxious to volunteer to do any painting, thanks just the same.
Thus began a conversation the rest of which I will spare you, because it is about collecting samples for the Fecal Occult Blood Test. Trust me, you haven't lived until you've heard a Canada Geek describe the bridge he made with toilet paper to, uh, facilitate smear collection.
This conversation was a good thing. It happened because a new nurse practitioner clinic opened recently in Thunder Bay. Finally, my retirement-age husband, whose asthma and allergies make him a surprisingly delicate flower most of the year, has healthcare again. See? A good thing.
He had the same family practice doc for decades. This doc finally retired two or three years ago, after threatening to for several years. Apparently physicians in their 70s prefer retirement, what a crazy idea. In any case, the doc referred lots of his patients but "orphaned" more--thousands of patients. Including my husband.
About 18 months ago I got into a regular practice by virtue of knowing people. My husband was accepted by this new nurse practitioner clinic by virtue of my nagging ability and his own good sense. I'm relieved for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that we are now both monitoring our health, collecting information about our bodies when we are healthy, so that when they are not, we have a better chance of noticing.
And as I have said before, ad nauseam (which, LOOK! It's spelled correctly!!), healthcare systems are systems, and are thus inherently flawed. On both sides of the border, proactive care of one's health is important. Which, when one gets to a certain age, means doing the fecal occult blood test.
But only one is at that age. The other of us had our mammogram last year, and is not anxious to volunteer to do any painting, thanks just the same.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
One Expression, One Pronunciation
Recently, I have been trying to collect other language observations but still have just one expression and one pronunciation. So here you go.
1. Expression: "keener," as in, "The keeners who finished their assignments early got a lollipop."
From context, a keener is enthusiastic. She is eager. She is on that project right away. A quick trip to the urban dictionary confirms my sense that a "keener" is a little like a brownnoser but not as nerdy.
I don't know an American equivalent. Do we scorn eagerness and achievement? Do we answer rhetorical questions? We do: indeed, we do.
2. Pronunciation: "juke," as in, the Grand Old one from York with ten thousand men who marched them up the hill (and then he marched them down again).
"Duke" has cropped up on TV fairly often recently, for some reason (perhaps Prince William's engagement? but he's a prince...hmm). Often it's pronounced as "dee-YUKE," run together quickly. But I've heard a fair amount of "juke." Since moving here, I have heard mercifully less "dook," which is what my "dee-YUKE" pronunciation was teased into, lo those many decades ago. Apparently the "y" sound conveys a certain refinement, a sense of "who do you think you are?" intolerable to my peers. And I caved to their pressure. I pronounced down.
Also, in this country I am apparently surrounded by "KYOO-pon" rather than "KOO-pon," which ditto with the teasing, although my husband says "KOO-pon."
And I, embracing my inner keener, have found myself returning to "KYOO-pon" and "dee-YUKE." And now, I'm off to march up and down hills!
1. Expression: "keener," as in, "The keeners who finished their assignments early got a lollipop."
From context, a keener is enthusiastic. She is eager. She is on that project right away. A quick trip to the urban dictionary confirms my sense that a "keener" is a little like a brownnoser but not as nerdy.
I don't know an American equivalent. Do we scorn eagerness and achievement? Do we answer rhetorical questions? We do: indeed, we do.
2. Pronunciation: "juke," as in, the Grand Old one from York with ten thousand men who marched them up the hill (and then he marched them down again).
"Duke" has cropped up on TV fairly often recently, for some reason (perhaps Prince William's engagement? but he's a prince...hmm). Often it's pronounced as "dee-YUKE," run together quickly. But I've heard a fair amount of "juke." Since moving here, I have heard mercifully less "dook," which is what my "dee-YUKE" pronunciation was teased into, lo those many decades ago. Apparently the "y" sound conveys a certain refinement, a sense of "who do you think you are?" intolerable to my peers. And I caved to their pressure. I pronounced down.
Also, in this country I am apparently surrounded by "KYOO-pon" rather than "KOO-pon," which ditto with the teasing, although my husband says "KOO-pon."
And I, embracing my inner keener, have found myself returning to "KYOO-pon" and "dee-YUKE." And now, I'm off to march up and down hills!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
A Clampett Moment (30+ Hours Without Power)
I hail from Oklahoma. Got my higher education in Arkansas. Clampett country, all of it, though I have to say that my own family isn't particularly Clampett-esque. Love the Clampetts. Nothing wrong with 'em. It's just that normally, I ain't one.
However, sometimes having the Clampett cultural reference to draw upon helps explain things. Such as the tires as landscaping aids (which did not in fact get to the dump, er, landfill this summer, darn it all). Even though these things aren't even in the U. S. of A. Even though they're in Canada.
Here's the deal. We have had 30+ power-free hours around here since Tuesday. I don't respond well to the lack of control. Also, with the wind and rain came leakage around the windows. That's water dripping in around the HOUSE windows. Water to the extent that we have to rig up plastic tubs under those beautiful bay windows I love the rest of the time.
Also, when we lose power, we lose the ability to flush toilets and take showers. I can do that when I camp. I can also live by candlelight and huddle near the wood stove. But living in a house should not be camping. Also, the control.
Here's what the wind has been up to. And this is later, when it was calm enough to go outside, y'all.
Here are the other results of those gale-force winds that caused our power outage. They are generally not as bad as they first appear. (This post is labeled "today" even though these are more properly "yesterday.")
This tree is barely kissing the front of the larger camp. No windows were damaged in the uprooting of this tree. No roof damage occurred. Whew.
Speaking of uprooting, let's take a virtual tour of the smaller camp, shall we?
Uh-huh. These would be the roots, as in, "what was left." Here's what happened.
Yikes! I get the willies looking at it and I know how safe this was. Here's the damage:
Yup. That's it. That's all. Just a bit of roof on the corner of the eave. It's not even leaking (from THAT spot, anyway) into the camp structure proper.
We have been watching this tree since May. I would swear I had taken a picture of the base, but perhaps I just shuddered and walked past instead. Anyway, the trunk was pretty well eaten away by bugs and birds.
We (both of us) had wondered how we (Roy) would fell this thing without first fretting us (me) to death. We could not figure out a direction to take it down that wouldn't endanger the camp, other trees, and/or the worker(s).
And now it's done been done fer us.
Whew and double whew.
In the ultimate Clampett moment, Roy said, "At least there's been enough water leaking in to flush the toilets with."
That's my Finn-Swede Clampett husband, folks. Just looking on the bright side.
However, sometimes having the Clampett cultural reference to draw upon helps explain things. Such as the tires as landscaping aids (which did not in fact get to the dump, er, landfill this summer, darn it all). Even though these things aren't even in the U. S. of A. Even though they're in Canada.
Here's the deal. We have had 30+ power-free hours around here since Tuesday. I don't respond well to the lack of control. Also, with the wind and rain came leakage around the windows. That's water dripping in around the HOUSE windows. Water to the extent that we have to rig up plastic tubs under those beautiful bay windows I love the rest of the time.
Also, when we lose power, we lose the ability to flush toilets and take showers. I can do that when I camp. I can also live by candlelight and huddle near the wood stove. But living in a house should not be camping. Also, the control.
Here's what the wind has been up to. And this is later, when it was calm enough to go outside, y'all.
Here are the other results of those gale-force winds that caused our power outage. They are generally not as bad as they first appear. (This post is labeled "today" even though these are more properly "yesterday.")
This tree is barely kissing the front of the larger camp. No windows were damaged in the uprooting of this tree. No roof damage occurred. Whew.
Speaking of uprooting, let's take a virtual tour of the smaller camp, shall we?
Uh-huh. These would be the roots, as in, "what was left." Here's what happened.
Yikes! I get the willies looking at it and I know how safe this was. Here's the damage:
Yup. That's it. That's all. Just a bit of roof on the corner of the eave. It's not even leaking (from THAT spot, anyway) into the camp structure proper.
We have been watching this tree since May. I would swear I had taken a picture of the base, but perhaps I just shuddered and walked past instead. Anyway, the trunk was pretty well eaten away by bugs and birds.
We (both of us) had wondered how we (Roy) would fell this thing without first fretting us (me) to death. We could not figure out a direction to take it down that wouldn't endanger the camp, other trees, and/or the worker(s).
And now it's done been done fer us.
Whew and double whew.
In the ultimate Clampett moment, Roy said, "At least there's been enough water leaking in to flush the toilets with."
That's my Finn-Swede Clampett husband, folks. Just looking on the bright side.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
47 Days of Gratitude, Week 1
Here are the status updates from Week 1. You'll notice (or maybe you won't) I use "Gratitude" in the tag but changed that to "Thanks" in Facebook to save characters. And then I didn't need all those characters after all, which is probably for the best.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 1: A quiet north-of-the-border Thanksgiving. I'm so grateful I had the chance to be with family recently!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 2: I'm grateful that I enjoy my regular life so much that I spend holidays, like today, doing many of the same things.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 3: I'm grateful that yesterday I happened to be in the right place (kitchen) at the right time (staring out the window at about noon) to see two bald eagles doing aerobatics over the bay.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 4: I'm VERY grateful for the inspiration of hearing good writing read VERY well last night at the reading sponsored by the Northwestern Ontario Writers Workshop. People around here do good work!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 5: I'm grateful that creative, dedicated people go into science and engineering to make possible new technology that will improve our lives--and pull off feats like the miner rescue in Chile. Now, how about making it safer to be a miner??
47 Days of Thanks, Day 6: I'm grateful that gray, cloudy days (like yesterday) can start with a colo(u)rful, striking sunrise! And I get another one this morning--bonus!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 7: I'm grateful for all the online resources that make it possible for me to participate in today's Book Club discussion without re-reading every single word of A Tale of Two Cities. (It was an issue of time, not interest, but I know my high school English teacher looks down on me in disapproval. Sigh.)
It's been an interesting journey so far. Of course I have developed "rules," or anyway "rule." I have picked one thing from that morning or the previous day that actually inspired the feeling of gratitude in me, instead of casting about for something I think should be grateful for or going for a "motherhood" topic.
I'm also finding that I stop occasionally during the day to notice feeling grateful for something, because I know I will have to pick something for my status update. Which, as my mother would say, is the benefit of the discipline of doing gratitude this way.
So...on we go.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 1: A quiet north-of-the-border Thanksgiving. I'm so grateful I had the chance to be with family recently!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 2: I'm grateful that I enjoy my regular life so much that I spend holidays, like today, doing many of the same things.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 3: I'm grateful that yesterday I happened to be in the right place (kitchen) at the right time (staring out the window at about noon) to see two bald eagles doing aerobatics over the bay.
47 Days of Thanks, Day 4: I'm VERY grateful for the inspiration of hearing good writing read VERY well last night at the reading sponsored by the Northwestern Ontario Writers Workshop. People around here do good work!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 5: I'm grateful that creative, dedicated people go into science and engineering to make possible new technology that will improve our lives--and pull off feats like the miner rescue in Chile. Now, how about making it safer to be a miner??
47 Days of Thanks, Day 6: I'm grateful that gray, cloudy days (like yesterday) can start with a colo(u)rful, striking sunrise! And I get another one this morning--bonus!
47 Days of Thanks, Day 7: I'm grateful for all the online resources that make it possible for me to participate in today's Book Club discussion without re-reading every single word of A Tale of Two Cities. (It was an issue of time, not interest, but I know my high school English teacher looks down on me in disapproval. Sigh.)
It's been an interesting journey so far. Of course I have developed "rules," or anyway "rule." I have picked one thing from that morning or the previous day that actually inspired the feeling of gratitude in me, instead of casting about for something I think should be grateful for or going for a "motherhood" topic.
I'm also finding that I stop occasionally during the day to notice feeling grateful for something, because I know I will have to pick something for my status update. Which, as my mother would say, is the benefit of the discipline of doing gratitude this way.
So...on we go.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Hosting with the Mosting
Things I have learned this summer about being a host: if you play your cards right, when the company leaves,
1. You still have half a batch of scones.
B. Also blueberry pie. That's two more times eating it!!!
iii. Have been to interesting places with your company, some of which you really mean to get to the rest of the year but often don't but now plan to, and some you have never been to before and may never seek out again. For example, I have seen a couple of really cool exhibits at The Thunder Bay Art Gallery (Norval Morrisseau! Frank Big Bear and his magic prismacolor pencils! and an exhibit devoted to ravens!!), and I have been to the casino (semi-comatose people staring at flashing lights!). I leave it to you to figure out which is which.
d. You lose your mind a little. Ergo, I'll be the one in the sugar coma (scones! blueberry pie!!) getting my toenails painted.
P.S. Yes, I know the items in the list above aren't parallel. It's for effect, a little writer-editor geek humo(u)r.
1. You still have half a batch of scones.
B. Also blueberry pie. That's two more times eating it!!!
iii. Have been to interesting places with your company, some of which you really mean to get to the rest of the year but often don't but now plan to, and some you have never been to before and may never seek out again. For example, I have seen a couple of really cool exhibits at The Thunder Bay Art Gallery (Norval Morrisseau! Frank Big Bear and his magic prismacolor pencils! and an exhibit devoted to ravens!!), and I have been to the casino (semi-comatose people staring at flashing lights!). I leave it to you to figure out which is which.
d. You lose your mind a little. Ergo, I'll be the one in the sugar coma (scones! blueberry pie!!) getting my toenails painted.
P.S. Yes, I know the items in the list above aren't parallel. It's for effect, a little writer-editor geek humo(u)r.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Intermission
A ku-hai for your contemplation
It rains, yet the house leaks not.
No bears lumber by.
I breathe: inhale, exhale, in-
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Three Days in August in Canada: The Opera
SATURDAY
Chorus: For the company arriveth, and we hath no air conditioning, and humidity it thriveth and temperature (oh the temperature, the temperature) it riseth (riseth!! RISETH!!).
Duo (The Princess and Prince): For this is not normal, not normal, it is too hot and muggy. Oh please you cannot touch me, oh please you must assist me, for the company is my family and they expecteth beds in comfort, not in sauna. We will survive this, we will endure, our love it too will thriveth, though the temperature it riseth (riseth!! RISETH!!).
Aria (The Prince): For I will find the fans (the oscllating fan, the bigger box fan) and make them ready for the company.
SUNDAY
Aria (The Princess): We had a chilly evening, two weeks ago, or three, I remember it! I do! I wore this lovely jacket, this sturdy hooded sweatshirt, for the evening it was chilly and what else was I to do?!!
Chorus: Tidy, tidy! You must tidy! You must put away the jacket, the sturdy hooded sweatshirt, for the evenings aren't chilly any longer. They are hot. The humidity is 80% and the temperature it riseth and you won't wear that sturdy hooded sweatshirt for a good month or two.
Recitative (The Princess): Thank God for the clouds to keep the temperature under 80 and the wind that brings the clouds, for it makes the upstairs habitable. Oh woe; I rue the day I bragged of this place to family and friends, for they expect perfection and that I cannot provide. (Perfection, perfection, ah, no.)
Aria (The Prince): The company arriveth, and we can make them welcome. The fans are ready and will drive away humidity so we all can sleep. Fret not, for it is lovely, and they will be good sports.
Chorus: For all around is lovely, and the company arriveth, and they will be good sports.
MONDAY
Chorus: A lovely morning, a cool and lovely morning, a morning the likes of which we have not seen since April, a cool and pleasant morning, the humidity it dropped and the temperature with it, too. Is that red line at 50? It is, it is at 50: and the humidity at 60, too.
Aria (The Princess): Oh bless the eleegant breeze, for well did I sleep, and the humidity it fell and the elegant breeze swept the sauna from my mind and my upstairs bedrooms, and I slept with joy and woke with thoughts of coolness and good humour again.
Recitative: (The Company): What a lovely morning, it's chilly here is it not, I didn't bring long pants, the news reports (news reports! NEWS REPORTS!!) said it's been the muggiest summer on record, and yet it feeleth chilly, so I will wear my jacket. And oh how I wish I had long pants. Yet all will be well.
Duo (The Prince and Princess): I swear just yesterday was different, the muggy, the heat, the humid lay insistent on all the land and our upstairs bedrooms too. You must have brought this respite, for the humid lay on all the land and we were crabby too. (Oh they do not believe us but we know whereof we speak and our love it also thriveth.)
Recitative: (The Company): Yea, I am glad I brought my jacket, and I wish I had brought long pants, for the flies, they doth bite. But lo, we will be good sports.
Recitative: (The Princess): And now I wear my jacket, my lovely hooded sweatshirt, for the cool lingers in the shade and the deep forest, and the breeze it brings the coolness across the land, and it is a lovely jacket, and I am glad I did not tidy (tidy!) for today I will wear it again.
Aria (The Prince, to The Company): Thank you! Thank you for bringing the respite, the respite, for it swept the humid from the land and vanquish-ed the temperature and now we are not crabby, and we will wear long pants, for the flies, they doth bite.
Chorus: And the company arriveth, they arriveth, and they bringeth the respite, and they don't believe our stories of the humidity and heat that lay across the land, but we don't care, for we can wear our jackets, and we have long pants, and our love, it also thriveth, and they will be good sports.
THE END
Chorus: For the company arriveth, and we hath no air conditioning, and humidity it thriveth and temperature (oh the temperature, the temperature) it riseth (riseth!! RISETH!!).
Duo (The Princess and Prince): For this is not normal, not normal, it is too hot and muggy. Oh please you cannot touch me, oh please you must assist me, for the company is my family and they expecteth beds in comfort, not in sauna. We will survive this, we will endure, our love it too will thriveth, though the temperature it riseth (riseth!! RISETH!!).
Aria (The Prince): For I will find the fans (the oscllating fan, the bigger box fan) and make them ready for the company.
SUNDAY
Aria (The Princess): We had a chilly evening, two weeks ago, or three, I remember it! I do! I wore this lovely jacket, this sturdy hooded sweatshirt, for the evening it was chilly and what else was I to do?!!
Chorus: Tidy, tidy! You must tidy! You must put away the jacket, the sturdy hooded sweatshirt, for the evenings aren't chilly any longer. They are hot. The humidity is 80% and the temperature it riseth and you won't wear that sturdy hooded sweatshirt for a good month or two.
Recitative (The Princess): Thank God for the clouds to keep the temperature under 80 and the wind that brings the clouds, for it makes the upstairs habitable. Oh woe; I rue the day I bragged of this place to family and friends, for they expect perfection and that I cannot provide. (Perfection, perfection, ah, no.)
Aria (The Prince): The company arriveth, and we can make them welcome. The fans are ready and will drive away humidity so we all can sleep. Fret not, for it is lovely, and they will be good sports.
Chorus: For all around is lovely, and the company arriveth, and they will be good sports.
MONDAY
Chorus: A lovely morning, a cool and lovely morning, a morning the likes of which we have not seen since April, a cool and pleasant morning, the humidity it dropped and the temperature with it, too. Is that red line at 50? It is, it is at 50: and the humidity at 60, too.
Aria (The Princess): Oh bless the eleegant breeze, for well did I sleep, and the humidity it fell and the elegant breeze swept the sauna from my mind and my upstairs bedrooms, and I slept with joy and woke with thoughts of coolness and good humour again.
Recitative: (The Company): What a lovely morning, it's chilly here is it not, I didn't bring long pants, the news reports (news reports! NEWS REPORTS!!) said it's been the muggiest summer on record, and yet it feeleth chilly, so I will wear my jacket. And oh how I wish I had long pants. Yet all will be well.
Duo (The Prince and Princess): I swear just yesterday was different, the muggy, the heat, the humid lay insistent on all the land and our upstairs bedrooms too. You must have brought this respite, for the humid lay on all the land and we were crabby too. (Oh they do not believe us but we know whereof we speak and our love it also thriveth.)
Recitative: (The Company): Yea, I am glad I brought my jacket, and I wish I had brought long pants, for the flies, they doth bite. But lo, we will be good sports.
Recitative: (The Princess): And now I wear my jacket, my lovely hooded sweatshirt, for the cool lingers in the shade and the deep forest, and the breeze it brings the coolness across the land, and it is a lovely jacket, and I am glad I did not tidy (tidy!) for today I will wear it again.
Aria (The Prince, to The Company): Thank you! Thank you for bringing the respite, the respite, for it swept the humid from the land and vanquish-ed the temperature and now we are not crabby, and we will wear long pants, for the flies, they doth bite.
Chorus: And the company arriveth, they arriveth, and they bringeth the respite, and they don't believe our stories of the humidity and heat that lay across the land, but we don't care, for we can wear our jackets, and we have long pants, and our love, it also thriveth, and they will be good sports.
THE END
Friday, July 30, 2010
Claustrophobia
In October, Delta-which-bought-United-Northwest-whatever will suspend its air service between Thunder Bay and Minneapolis.
The service has apparently been faltering for some time. It's inconvenient, scheduled apparently without regard to matching the schedules of incoming flights, so that connecting from Tucson requires either a multi-hour wait or a sprint. It doesn't fly in bad weather, which I suppose is understandable, but summer flights are always iffy and nerve-wracking. It's not dependable service.
And it's hugely, hugely expensive, relative to the cost of other legs of a flight: $400 easily. Recently, a day's drive to Minneapolis, a night at a motel, and a drive home--repeated--has won out over this crappy service.
And I wonder: aren't most of these complaints about the TB/Mpls route applicable to other routes? The primary difference is that Delta was the only option. And now it's going away.
All of which makes me extremely claustrophobic. I feel trapped here.
It makes no sense. I have chosen not to use the service, so really I shouldn't complain if the service goes away. PLUS not using the service has given me first-hand experience in getting out of this country. (I drove across! Both ways! Twice! In the past two weeks!!) AND it's not like the Thunder Bay airport is shutting down. I can always get to Toronto!
Not only that, but I'm here in this country by choice. I really really WANT to be here. And I have a difficult time leaving, even to go on vacation.
But then, that's why they call it a "phobia": the fear has no basis in logic. Mentally, I'm standing under a transparent bubble at the airport, pounding on it: "Let me ouuuuuuut! Let me ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!"
So much for what "they" say: that Canadians have stronger ties to their U.S. neighbours than to other Canadians. Try flying to Minneapolis from Thunder Bay.
Because I'm curious, I did some research. Minneapolis, you recall, is a city as close or closer to me than Winnipeg. Yet to get to Mpls from TB, I'd have to fly to Toronto (or Winnipeg AND Chicago). One of my favourite return routes would take me from Minneapolis through Houston (that's Texas, y'all) and THEN Toronto before bringing me back here.
Lest you think that "flying to Toronto" from here is equivalent, say, to flying to Phoenix from Tucson (a half-hour journey): The TB-Toronto flight is 1:42, 900km. As a drive, it's 18 hours or so (allowing for summertime construction). And all the connections were more than $500.
So, let's review: I'd be flying to a city easily twice as far away as Minneapolis to get, eventually, to Minneapolis. Possibly through scenic Houston, another 2000 km out of the way. Time elapsed: 3 hours Toronto/Houston, 3 more hours Houston/Minneapolis. Plus the 1:42. Add in connection times and an hour for time zone change: 12 hours.
Driving. That's the answer, as it is so often, when one doesn't have the luxury of staying here. Argh.
P.S. Because I know that Minneapolis is not often the final destination, I also checked into a flight to Tucson. There are no 1-stop routes. I can fly Toronto/Denver/Tucson, home Denver/Edmonton/Tucson. Other routes include stops in Phoenix or LA. Touring the U.S. through its airports: now there's a reason to visit my sister.
P.P.S. Yes, I should appreciate the miracle of flight. That it's possible at all. Et cetera. And I do. But I'm human, and we don't respond well when options are taken from us.
The service has apparently been faltering for some time. It's inconvenient, scheduled apparently without regard to matching the schedules of incoming flights, so that connecting from Tucson requires either a multi-hour wait or a sprint. It doesn't fly in bad weather, which I suppose is understandable, but summer flights are always iffy and nerve-wracking. It's not dependable service.
And it's hugely, hugely expensive, relative to the cost of other legs of a flight: $400 easily. Recently, a day's drive to Minneapolis, a night at a motel, and a drive home--repeated--has won out over this crappy service.
And I wonder: aren't most of these complaints about the TB/Mpls route applicable to other routes? The primary difference is that Delta was the only option. And now it's going away.
All of which makes me extremely claustrophobic. I feel trapped here.
It makes no sense. I have chosen not to use the service, so really I shouldn't complain if the service goes away. PLUS not using the service has given me first-hand experience in getting out of this country. (I drove across! Both ways! Twice! In the past two weeks!!) AND it's not like the Thunder Bay airport is shutting down. I can always get to Toronto!
Not only that, but I'm here in this country by choice. I really really WANT to be here. And I have a difficult time leaving, even to go on vacation.
But then, that's why they call it a "phobia": the fear has no basis in logic. Mentally, I'm standing under a transparent bubble at the airport, pounding on it: "Let me ouuuuuuut! Let me ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!"
So much for what "they" say: that Canadians have stronger ties to their U.S. neighbours than to other Canadians. Try flying to Minneapolis from Thunder Bay.
Because I'm curious, I did some research. Minneapolis, you recall, is a city as close or closer to me than Winnipeg. Yet to get to Mpls from TB, I'd have to fly to Toronto (or Winnipeg AND Chicago). One of my favourite return routes would take me from Minneapolis through Houston (that's Texas, y'all) and THEN Toronto before bringing me back here.
Lest you think that "flying to Toronto" from here is equivalent, say, to flying to Phoenix from Tucson (a half-hour journey): The TB-Toronto flight is 1:42, 900km. As a drive, it's 18 hours or so (allowing for summertime construction). And all the connections were more than $500.
So, let's review: I'd be flying to a city easily twice as far away as Minneapolis to get, eventually, to Minneapolis. Possibly through scenic Houston, another 2000 km out of the way. Time elapsed: 3 hours Toronto/Houston, 3 more hours Houston/Minneapolis. Plus the 1:42. Add in connection times and an hour for time zone change: 12 hours.
Driving. That's the answer, as it is so often, when one doesn't have the luxury of staying here. Argh.
P.S. Because I know that Minneapolis is not often the final destination, I also checked into a flight to Tucson. There are no 1-stop routes. I can fly Toronto/Denver/Tucson, home Denver/Edmonton/Tucson. Other routes include stops in Phoenix or LA. Touring the U.S. through its airports: now there's a reason to visit my sister.
P.P.S. Yes, I should appreciate the miracle of flight. That it's possible at all. Et cetera. And I do. But I'm human, and we don't respond well when options are taken from us.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
In Praise of Technology, Science, and Mathematics
I love nuance and shades of meaning. Really, I do. But sometimes, all that chiaroscuro gets to me. I like a world in which problems have solutions, not just "well, this might be the least bad option." I like it when I can figure out a scientific solution to a problem and dredge up the technology to implement it. I like it when I can find out information that helps me make decisions. I like when I can map out other factors in that decision. And if I can't do any of those things myself, I like being married to someone who can.
So today I am loving me some technology, science, and math. Here are the specific whys.
1. Problems can suggest their own solutions. The water in the lake is low, and that magnifies the effect of weather patterns (high-pressure systems, low-pressure systems) on the water level. High-pressure systems mean water is pushed down here and goes to another part of the lake. Low pressure here allows water levels to rise here. It's all really cool and beautiful to watch--until the fluctuation causes the water level to fall below the intake valve, which causes the pump to lose its prime, which in turn messes up the water system at the camp property, and that's important because someone is staying there and wants to flush toilets and take showers.
So, to isolate the water intake from the fluctuations in the lake level that are caused by atmospheric pressure, Roy upended a container of water over the intake. The container is long enough that it creates a little world of plentiful water over the intake. Now, regardless of the vicissitudes in water level around the intake, the intake is essentially "underwater." The same properties of water that allow you to suck it up through a straw (or juice in a turkey baster)--the same ones that make the intake vulnerable to atmospheric pressure in the first place--make this all possible. I'd draw a picture but this is all too much like work. It's a genius technological solution, trust me.
2. The scientific method lets you find out stuff. Take my car (please). It's a 1994 Camry. For the past three years (at least), I have struggled with whether to buy a new one or fix the "whatever is making that sound" on this one. So far, I have fixed it, but now it's leaking oil. This might be a deal-breaker. But part of the information we need to know is how much oil it's leaking. So there's a plastic tray under the car. When it's been there 24 hours, we'll go check it out. And then we'll know. And that will be useful information for #3.
3. Mathematics helps you make decisions. I don't just mean arithmetic, though knowing that $15,000 is greater than $1500 is also helpful. It's the analytical part, the decision-making part, the part that lets you know when exactly you're at the point of diminishing returns. Sure, $1500 is always less than $15,000, but is $1500 this month plus another $2000 next month plus another $3000 four months down the road, for a total of $6500 in a six-month period, a wise investment? Or is it time to put that $6500 toward a $15,000 car that won't require any serious outlay of fixing $$ until the day after the warranty expires?
Some of the factors in that decision are human and thus squishy. But some aren't. And the mathematics (okay, and the arithmetic) stops me from deciding to buy a new car just because it's spring (okay, almost summer) and I'm a sucker for clean and shiny in the spring. Mathematics lets me create a decision tree that weighs my financing options vs. my income (should there be any). And sure, I probably don't need those random semesters of calculus to figure out that income is good when you're thinking about buying something. But it's comforting to be able to look at the numbers.
The fact that not one of these solutions was my idea doesn't diminish my satisfaction in them, either. To be fair, the decision analysis is mostly my bailiwick, Roy being susceptible to the shiny himself. And that's okay, too, because science, technology, and mathematics are all about teamwork.
So go, mathletes, engineers, and techno-nerds--especially the ones working to fix BP's mess. We are grateful for you, the people who use the physical principles of this world and who explain them to us, even when we try your patience because we should have learned some of this in grammar school. Today is your day, and today we say "thank you!"
So today I am loving me some technology, science, and math. Here are the specific whys.
1. Problems can suggest their own solutions. The water in the lake is low, and that magnifies the effect of weather patterns (high-pressure systems, low-pressure systems) on the water level. High-pressure systems mean water is pushed down here and goes to another part of the lake. Low pressure here allows water levels to rise here. It's all really cool and beautiful to watch--until the fluctuation causes the water level to fall below the intake valve, which causes the pump to lose its prime, which in turn messes up the water system at the camp property, and that's important because someone is staying there and wants to flush toilets and take showers.
So, to isolate the water intake from the fluctuations in the lake level that are caused by atmospheric pressure, Roy upended a container of water over the intake. The container is long enough that it creates a little world of plentiful water over the intake. Now, regardless of the vicissitudes in water level around the intake, the intake is essentially "underwater." The same properties of water that allow you to suck it up through a straw (or juice in a turkey baster)--the same ones that make the intake vulnerable to atmospheric pressure in the first place--make this all possible. I'd draw a picture but this is all too much like work. It's a genius technological solution, trust me.
2. The scientific method lets you find out stuff. Take my car (please). It's a 1994 Camry. For the past three years (at least), I have struggled with whether to buy a new one or fix the "whatever is making that sound" on this one. So far, I have fixed it, but now it's leaking oil. This might be a deal-breaker. But part of the information we need to know is how much oil it's leaking. So there's a plastic tray under the car. When it's been there 24 hours, we'll go check it out. And then we'll know. And that will be useful information for #3.
3. Mathematics helps you make decisions. I don't just mean arithmetic, though knowing that $15,000 is greater than $1500 is also helpful. It's the analytical part, the decision-making part, the part that lets you know when exactly you're at the point of diminishing returns. Sure, $1500 is always less than $15,000, but is $1500 this month plus another $2000 next month plus another $3000 four months down the road, for a total of $6500 in a six-month period, a wise investment? Or is it time to put that $6500 toward a $15,000 car that won't require any serious outlay of fixing $$ until the day after the warranty expires?
Some of the factors in that decision are human and thus squishy. But some aren't. And the mathematics (okay, and the arithmetic) stops me from deciding to buy a new car just because it's spring (okay, almost summer) and I'm a sucker for clean and shiny in the spring. Mathematics lets me create a decision tree that weighs my financing options vs. my income (should there be any). And sure, I probably don't need those random semesters of calculus to figure out that income is good when you're thinking about buying something. But it's comforting to be able to look at the numbers.
The fact that not one of these solutions was my idea doesn't diminish my satisfaction in them, either. To be fair, the decision analysis is mostly my bailiwick, Roy being susceptible to the shiny himself. And that's okay, too, because science, technology, and mathematics are all about teamwork.
So go, mathletes, engineers, and techno-nerds--especially the ones working to fix BP's mess. We are grateful for you, the people who use the physical principles of this world and who explain them to us, even when we try your patience because we should have learned some of this in grammar school. Today is your day, and today we say "thank you!"
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
In the Words of Bartles & Jaymes
...Thank you for your support, Ontarians, through the Ontario Arts Council. And now I shall endeavour (it gets a "u" because it's a Canadian grant) to prove worthy of it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Happy Pi Day
Get it? Pi? As in, 3.14?
And today is 3-14. Or in some circles, it's written 3.14.
Except in those countries in which March 14 is 14-03, or 14/3. Which is some countries in North America. Sometimes. It's very confusing.
Okay, you know what? Just say a brief "thanks" for mathematics--and mathematicians, who helped create the technology you're using to read this--and eat some pie. If you want to calculate the circumference of your pie, well...that brings us back to pi, doesn't it? Full circle, you might say. (Get it? Circumference? Full circle?)
Aw, c'mon. It's math humo(u)r. Laugh.
A day with pi(e) and laughter: it's gotta be good.
And today is 3-14. Or in some circles, it's written 3.14.
Except in those countries in which March 14 is 14-03, or 14/3. Which is some countries in North America. Sometimes. It's very confusing.
Okay, you know what? Just say a brief "thanks" for mathematics--and mathematicians, who helped create the technology you're using to read this--and eat some pie. If you want to calculate the circumference of your pie, well...that brings us back to pi, doesn't it? Full circle, you might say. (Get it? Circumference? Full circle?)
Aw, c'mon. It's math humo(u)r. Laugh.
A day with pi(e) and laughter: it's gotta be good.
Friday, November 20, 2009
A Very Good Place to Start
In part because November seems to be Literary Award Month in Canada, book clubs or book groups have been on my mind lately. In the U.S., it seemed that they were known more as book "groups"--because "club" sounds too formal and exclusive, perhaps? Who knows. I've also heard them called "reading groups."
Here, they seem to be, unselfconsciously, book "clubs."
In any case, selecting books to read and discuss with a group of people is always a process fraught with conditions and clarifications and definitions. Someone wants to read "classics," meaning Middlemarch, not Euripides. Someone wants a theme for the year--war, for one depressing example.
Some insist on reading best-sellers or a celebrity's selections. Nothing wrong with that--but why do that in a group? They may be interesting or entertaining but you probably don't need a group discussion to gain a full understanding of the book.
To counteract the "there's not much to discuss about this book" syndrome, some clubs choose from award-winning books--for example, those that win National Book Awards or the UK's Man Booker prize. The idea is that these books are notable in some way beyond catching a celebrity's eye.
And in that vein, here are another couple of good resources for interesting books that are worth reading in a group: the sites for two major Canadian literary awards.
The Scotiabank Giller Prize is an award for fiction. The players are different every year, the jury is different every year, and the results are always interesting.
The Governor General's Literary Awards, presented by the Canada Council for the Arts, have lots of categories in both languages. Children's books can win either for illustration or for text, and this year the winner is the same in both categories--in English. Because yes, there are awards for writing in French, too.
Just call it "resource week" here at Half-Canadian: linking you to information you never thought to ask for!
Here, they seem to be, unselfconsciously, book "clubs."
In any case, selecting books to read and discuss with a group of people is always a process fraught with conditions and clarifications and definitions. Someone wants to read "classics," meaning Middlemarch, not Euripides. Someone wants a theme for the year--war, for one depressing example.
Some insist on reading best-sellers or a celebrity's selections. Nothing wrong with that--but why do that in a group? They may be interesting or entertaining but you probably don't need a group discussion to gain a full understanding of the book.
To counteract the "there's not much to discuss about this book" syndrome, some clubs choose from award-winning books--for example, those that win National Book Awards or the UK's Man Booker prize. The idea is that these books are notable in some way beyond catching a celebrity's eye.
And in that vein, here are another couple of good resources for interesting books that are worth reading in a group: the sites for two major Canadian literary awards.
The Scotiabank Giller Prize is an award for fiction. The players are different every year, the jury is different every year, and the results are always interesting.
The Governor General's Literary Awards, presented by the Canada Council for the Arts, have lots of categories in both languages. Children's books can win either for illustration or for text, and this year the winner is the same in both categories--in English. Because yes, there are awards for writing in French, too.
Just call it "resource week" here at Half-Canadian: linking you to information you never thought to ask for!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Traditions
My parents were married on Christmas Day in 1942. Each year, the present-opening extravagannnnnnza included a moment for opening anniversary cards and gifts--as I recall, given mostly by my father to my mother.
It was mostly a non-event for us kids, except for their 25th anniversary, when my sister organized a system whereby we "donated" portions of our allowance and pooled our nickels, dimes, and occasional quarter to buy a silver bread tray.
And of course, the more years my parents accumulated as married partners, the more important their anniversaries became. The more I understood relationships (or truthfully, the more I understood that I knew NOTHING about successful relationships), the more I admired theirs.
Two years ago, my husband and I stood on our beach and made a new marriage. I'm enjoying developing new traditions to celebrate that commitment--traditions that match our marriage.
The second anniversary is traditionally the cotton anniversary. In our marriage, the whole second year has been devoted to empty space. Not the kind overhead, where the stars and planets and birds live. The kind in attics and basements and closets, oh my. The kind that is now mostly dry, thanks to hours replacing roofs (though we're not quite done with the re-roofing).
On our special day in celebration of our year of empty space, we will go to the dump. It is not only an ordinary "take the garbage and recycling to the landfill" day but also a day when we will use one of our two annual "cleanout" days. We have the rolled roofing from the bathroom to get rid of. Also the aluminum eavestroughs. Plus an old cracked toilet.
It's exciting to contemplate. And I can't wait to see what the coming years bring.
It was mostly a non-event for us kids, except for their 25th anniversary, when my sister organized a system whereby we "donated" portions of our allowance and pooled our nickels, dimes, and occasional quarter to buy a silver bread tray.
And of course, the more years my parents accumulated as married partners, the more important their anniversaries became. The more I understood relationships (or truthfully, the more I understood that I knew NOTHING about successful relationships), the more I admired theirs.
Two years ago, my husband and I stood on our beach and made a new marriage. I'm enjoying developing new traditions to celebrate that commitment--traditions that match our marriage.
The second anniversary is traditionally the cotton anniversary. In our marriage, the whole second year has been devoted to empty space. Not the kind overhead, where the stars and planets and birds live. The kind in attics and basements and closets, oh my. The kind that is now mostly dry, thanks to hours replacing roofs (though we're not quite done with the re-roofing).
On our special day in celebration of our year of empty space, we will go to the dump. It is not only an ordinary "take the garbage and recycling to the landfill" day but also a day when we will use one of our two annual "cleanout" days. We have the rolled roofing from the bathroom to get rid of. Also the aluminum eavestroughs. Plus an old cracked toilet.
It's exciting to contemplate. And I can't wait to see what the coming years bring.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Sharing the Pain. Er, Joy. Amended.
Sundays are stressful for me--all that "getting to a prescribed place at a prescribed time" stuff, followed by a hefty helping of "being nice to other people." Afternoons, I often find a comfortable chair or couch, close my eyes, and meditate on the beauty of being alone.
Yesterday, however, Roy turned on the TV to discover an hour-long retrospective about Expo 67--"The hundredth anniversary of confederation," as the song says. History in lyrics, the forerunner of Schoolhouse Rock. Again, invented by Canadians and popularized by Americans.
But I digress. The point is this: what's stuck in my head?
See for yourself below. Do watch long enough to see the shot of the trumpet bell around 1:30.
The pied piper tour guide is Bobby Gimby, Canada's answer to Doc Severinsen.
The TV show also mentioned the movie about Ontario, introduced at Expo with split-screen technology. It won an Oscar, by the way. If the above isn't enough to keep you humming for hours, this should do it.
With hopes as high as the tallest tree, in my land of lakes and snow...Ontari-ari-ari-oooooooo.
Amended to add what I meant to say before I got sidetracked playing with YouTube. First of all, a quiz to see if you've been paying attention. What was the population of Canada in 1967? Answer: about 20 million. It's in the first video.
Second, my serious point (and of COURSE I have one, being "too serious") is that you can learn a lot about a country by their musical theatre.
In a life long ago and far away, I played in the pit orchestra of a production of "Oklahoma!" For a lot of reasons, participating in that show ranks as one of my all-time favo(u)rite experiences.
The music makes sense, for one thing. Yes, it's familiar--a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic. I've seen the movie a billion times. We had an LP of it when I was a kid. But beyond familiarity, the music makes sense. The harmonies make sense. If you have a bunch of measures of rest and lose count, it doesn't matter--you still know when to come in because it just sounds right.
So it was a pleasure to play. But beyond that, it's a show that can tell someone a lot about America and Americans. Not that "Oklahoma!" the show in any way resembles Oklahoma the state--but it's what Americans want to believe about themselves. Here's a quick list.
- In Kansas City, like other big cities, they've gone about as fur as they can go. We-uns prefer the simple life, where we don't get took by city slickers.
- The farmer and the cowman should be friends. We should all be friends because that way we get their women.
- It's OK to pretend to have a surrey you don't actually have if it gets you the girl, even temporarily. She's really in love with you even if she acts stupid. And shucks, that's true of boys acting stupid, too.
- The bad guys are not only dirty, they're bad because they live like hogs and thus want to be bad.
- If you're too stupid to live and thus don't understand your own life, fall asleep and you'll experience a frightening dream ballet, choreographed by Martha Graham (or someone like her), which will put all the pieces together for you.
- Not being able to say "no" is all fun and games till your father finds his shotgun. Then you have to marry whoever he says.
- Good guys may kill the bad guys, but only accidentally, when the bad guy falls on his own knife.
- We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand. Or maybe vice versa.
- And while nobody wants to break the law, it's just fine to bend it a little.
Oh, and by the way: there are good guys and bad guys. Even the peddler, who trades with anyone, has to decide become a good guy by the end of the show. At the end of a shotgun barrel, but still.
So my serious point was going to be this: Even though the above "Ca-na-da!" and "Place to Stand" clips aren't musical theatre, exactly, it's still interesting to see Canada's own stories about itself from 40 years ago. Here are some of the things I see.
- We're an optimistic people, with cheerful, obedient kids and clean cities.
- We're not ashamed to use "thee" in a song. And we speak a little French, too. But not enough to be intimidating. Heck, you probably know it, too--sing along!
- We're still building Ontario, even though Europeans have been living there as long as they have south of 49.
There's more, of course. But that's a start. Note: no good guys. No bad guys. The Soviet Union had a pavilion at Expo 67, as did Cuba. So did the U.S. See? We can all get along!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Destination: Winnipeg
We're just home from four days in Winnipeg: two days of walking bookended by two days of driving.
I enjoyed the whole experience. Winnipeg is a large city but not so large as to be daunting. As we would say in the south, Winnipeg is not "all eat up with" its own importance. It was like visiting a U.S. city that's larger than Des Moines (but with that prairie feel) but smaller than Minneapolis/St. Paul (but with that sense of nearness of trees).
It has a functional downtown, although the buildings have their fair share of empty storefronts. I also saw few amenities for people who live and work downtown. For example, I didn't see a regular grocery store in the heart of downtown, as you would find in other cities, though some markets had some fruit and packaged stuff.
Skywalks and tunnels make it possible to get around in inclement weather, though they're set up less for convenience (they meander) and more as dowtown revitalization projects. The shops ranged from your basic mall stores to collections of inexpensive imports and the ubiquitous (in Canada ) A Buck or Two dollar-amas. We didn't investigate the bus system, but the city would need a really good bus system to make life navigable without a car.
However, for geeks, it's a pretty fun place. It has a surprisingly large museum and planetarium (and two children's museums) and an Imax theatre. If you're into walking to see what's around, both sides of the Red River have interesting buildings. We happened into a tour of the St. Boniface cathedral, which burned and was rebuilt 40 years ago. Interesting story and interesting choices by the architect.
The Forks is an indoor/outdoor market/waterfront area (and a natural, government-protected area) that is the envy of (and possibly the model for) the new Thunder Bay waterfront development. Throughout Saturday, people (tourists, locals) actually showed up there to hang around. The photo above is from a special display of mining equipment (it was Manitoba Mining Week or some such) there.
Those with sincere interests in things like ballet, opera, concerts/shows, comedy, music festivals, cultural and ethnic displays, history, or food can find entertainment and stimulation.
But one of the strangest parts of the experience, for me, was driving somewhere that wasn't into the U.S. No border crossing and passports. No translating currency; no need for a dual-wallet system. Just a trip--not even to visit family. Just for relaxation. A getaway. A vacation. In the same country where I already live. Huh.
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