Monday, August 13, 2012
Views
The bathroom with the second best view I've ever been pleased to relieve myself in was on Isla Amantani in Lake Titicaca. It was one of those stone plaster affairs you only see in desert climates and the developing world- with an open air window overlooking first the flowering garden and then the limitless horizon of that enormous inland lake. Rob and I took a trip there, after stopping overnight in uninviting Puno- a place akin to Red Deer in overall appeal. I think we drank some boxed wine in the hostel and didn't even consider looking for anything else to do. I always remember that bathroom. Best view goes unequivocally to piss plunging into a dark void off the unfinished heli-pad on the shoulder of Lady Macdonald, watching headlights snake down the highway a thousand feet below, full of whisky, low on supplies, high in spirits.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
The Leisure Alberta Good Times Easy Riding Calgary Ledges Tour actually happened! So that's surprising. More, or less, surprising, depending on your perspective, and if you are my friend or my enemy, is that it was pretty fun. And unsurprisingly, at least one person lost a ton blood and may have ruined one excellent pair of trousers or tights or something. Brian L. (shorten. for anonym.) had so much fun he neglected his responsibilities the following day. I myself was showing some flu-like symptoms from out of nowhere the next morning.
There's another one in the works. Coming up near the end of August. So if you belong to the enormous group of people who missed the ride, and also one of the tiny group of people who might stumble upon this, lucky! If anyone wants to do it at a certain time, comment.
We gave out paper bags of leisure supplies last time.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
CYCLEPALOOOOOOOZA
Leisure Alberta has been offered a large bounty to host and organize a bike ride for Cycle-pa-looza in Calgary. Because I don't do anything that I can't do either in ten minutes right now or just re-schedule for next year, it's a go.
It's hard, in life, to know what you want. Sometimes it can be easy- I'll take a six lucky lagers and six Palm Bay coolers please. Or, I'll have the lawn chair with the reclining back. Or, no, I don't consider these pants too ragged for polite company.
Sometimes there's uncertainty. Like, I'm not sure if I have enough gas to get to Radium Hot Springs... ought I stop? Or, is this one of those fireworks you need to plant in the ground? Or, which is the most downhill bikeride possible in this city anyway?
Hard any decision must be made! The ride will start at 16th AVE and 10th St NW, and will finish and 5th AVE and 10th St NW. Beverages and snacks to follow.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
HISTORY PART TWO
This is going to be a mini-series of posts about all the notable times I've vomited and spewed and puked within the history of my life.
This is number three in a 7-part series.
This isn't going to be a thing where I talk about how much we drank or how we're super ballers with balls to the wall. This one isn't that remarkable except for the spiritual element.
After our last exam my friend Rob and I went to the beer store and stocked up for the few year end parties we were planning to go to. In Winnipeg you used to be able to get this beer called TWO RIVERS - 650 ml and I think it cost 1.75. We each bought four, totally emptying our bank accounts at a little shack called the "Charlie's" Beer Vendor. A few months later there was a big police showdown in the parking lot having to do with WW2 era machine guns being discharged late at night, and I think someone got stabbed, and the whole place got shut down.
On our way back to the residence we stopped at the river to watch the ice chunks flow under the bridge and popped a beer each. Then it was like 3 hours later and we had killed all the Two Rivers, totaling eight rivers each (just a couple of voyageurs, hangin out). Rob stood up to go with alarming poise, and inspired, I tripped over my bike with what I recall as a disgruntled sort of dignity, and riding home, we sang songs, and vowed eternal friendship.
I woke up early, with first of dawn grey type rays in my window. I'm sick. I should mention that I was sick before theTwo 8 Rivers, but now I'm sick on a higher plane. Hangover heartsick, stomach sick, headsick and existential sick. I knew I was going to throw up all over and I didn't want anyone to hear so I slipped on my shoes and headed out the doors. The res backed onto fields and a forest called the back forty- I headed for the woods. I had to pace the forest path, because at 6 am with no pants and no jacket I was freezing. I've puked in some truly aesthetically pleasing locales, but none will match that morning. It was misty and grey in a poplar forest and the sun was rising. I'd probably been outside for close to half an hour, which is bad because my other sickness was a coldish type fever.
Then I finally blew all my business in the grass on the path, of course I fell onto my knees, threw up some more, and was overwhelmed with sympathy for my situation. When I looked up there was this doe standing in the mist looking at me with ears perked maybe thirty feet away. I think our eyes may have locked. There's no gap so wide as between the sick and the healthy. The deer skipped carelessly away, lightfooted with a graceful sangfroid, and I skulked back to my dorm, heavy with the knowledge of good and evil.
In my room there was a note from my girlfriend at the time wishing me good health and a speedy recovery. I hadn't told her I was somewhat healthier than bedridden because I wanted to get beers with Rob that evening. And that's when I first understood the weight of sin.
This is number three in a 7-part series.
This isn't going to be a thing where I talk about how much we drank or how we're super ballers with balls to the wall. This one isn't that remarkable except for the spiritual element.
After our last exam my friend Rob and I went to the beer store and stocked up for the few year end parties we were planning to go to. In Winnipeg you used to be able to get this beer called TWO RIVERS - 650 ml and I think it cost 1.75. We each bought four, totally emptying our bank accounts at a little shack called the "Charlie's" Beer Vendor. A few months later there was a big police showdown in the parking lot having to do with WW2 era machine guns being discharged late at night, and I think someone got stabbed, and the whole place got shut down.
On our way back to the residence we stopped at the river to watch the ice chunks flow under the bridge and popped a beer each. Then it was like 3 hours later and we had killed all the Two Rivers, totaling eight rivers each (just a couple of voyageurs, hangin out). Rob stood up to go with alarming poise, and inspired, I tripped over my bike with what I recall as a disgruntled sort of dignity, and riding home, we sang songs, and vowed eternal friendship.
I woke up early, with first of dawn grey type rays in my window. I'm sick. I should mention that I was sick before the
Then I finally blew all my business in the grass on the path, of course I fell onto my knees, threw up some more, and was overwhelmed with sympathy for my situation. When I looked up there was this doe standing in the mist looking at me with ears perked maybe thirty feet away. I think our eyes may have locked. There's no gap so wide as between the sick and the healthy. The deer skipped carelessly away, lightfooted with a graceful sangfroid, and I skulked back to my dorm, heavy with the knowledge of good and evil.
In my room there was a note from my girlfriend at the time wishing me good health and a speedy recovery. I hadn't told her I was somewhat healthier than bedridden because I wanted to get beers with Rob that evening. And that's when I first understood the weight of sin.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
HISTORY PART ONE
I have tracked the source of self-doubt straight to its origins. Two incidents in Ms. Kruger's Grade2/3 split science class opened cracks in my gleaming wall of elementary school self-assurance that haven't closed since.
Incident One: Determining Whether the Jaw Swings down or the Head Swings Up
Background- when I was in early elementary I was at the peak of my game. I read at higher grade levels, spelled like a fucking spelling monster, and added/subtracted no prisoners taken. I was pretty confident about volunteering information in class. So when Ms Kruger asked us to put our hands under our jaws and on top of our heads while opening and shouting our mouths, I knew I had the answer.
Ms Kruger: "put your hands up for 'jaw swinging down'." Everyone puts their hands up. I peer down from high atop my ivory tower, not a thought for reconsideration in my head, confident in my status amongst all the mouth-breathers. We shared a field during lunch and recess, but in science class we didn't play in the same playground.
Ms Kruger: "put your hands up for head swinging upward". I raise my hand.
Incident Two: Whether a Balloon is Heavier Inflated or Un-inflated
As I said, peak of my game. I had a friend named Jon Zeeb who was pretty smart too. I always paired up with in science projects because otherwise he could possibly get a better mark than me. For whatever teaching strategy Ms Kruger was using, Jon Zeeb and I were standing in front of the class. This didn't make me uncomfortable, or self-conscious. I subscribed to Owl magazine (not Chickadee, which is for kids) and was also a junior zookeeper.
Ms Kruger: "Weigh each of these balloons in your hands and tell me which one is heavier." Both of us adopt pensive expressions- as 8 year olds I assume we just looked like we had to go to the bathroom. I make a show of bouncing the inflated balloon in my hand, and weighing the un-inflated one. And then back. I pronounce- being an initiate in the mysteries of science- that the uninflated balloon is clearly heavier. Jon Zeeb disagrees. Jon Zeeb is vindicated. I am shattered.
Likely I sulk for days. Jon Zeeb wins the science award for grade 3 students at the year end assembly. I turn to a life of fruitless self-doubt and reflection. Jon Zeeb becomes a police officer. With my back to science class, I start reading McGurk mystery books non stop.
Incident One: Determining Whether the Jaw Swings down or the Head Swings Up
Background- when I was in early elementary I was at the peak of my game. I read at higher grade levels, spelled like a fucking spelling monster, and added/subtracted no prisoners taken. I was pretty confident about volunteering information in class. So when Ms Kruger asked us to put our hands under our jaws and on top of our heads while opening and shouting our mouths, I knew I had the answer.
Ms Kruger: "put your hands up for 'jaw swinging down'." Everyone puts their hands up. I peer down from high atop my ivory tower, not a thought for reconsideration in my head, confident in my status amongst all the mouth-breathers. We shared a field during lunch and recess, but in science class we didn't play in the same playground.
Ms Kruger: "put your hands up for head swinging upward". I raise my hand.
Incident Two: Whether a Balloon is Heavier Inflated or Un-inflated
As I said, peak of my game. I had a friend named Jon Zeeb who was pretty smart too. I always paired up with in science projects because otherwise he could possibly get a better mark than me. For whatever teaching strategy Ms Kruger was using, Jon Zeeb and I were standing in front of the class. This didn't make me uncomfortable, or self-conscious. I subscribed to Owl magazine (not Chickadee, which is for kids) and was also a junior zookeeper.
Ms Kruger: "Weigh each of these balloons in your hands and tell me which one is heavier." Both of us adopt pensive expressions- as 8 year olds I assume we just looked like we had to go to the bathroom. I make a show of bouncing the inflated balloon in my hand, and weighing the un-inflated one. And then back. I pronounce- being an initiate in the mysteries of science- that the uninflated balloon is clearly heavier. Jon Zeeb disagrees. Jon Zeeb is vindicated. I am shattered.
Likely I sulk for days. Jon Zeeb wins the science award for grade 3 students at the year end assembly. I turn to a life of fruitless self-doubt and reflection. Jon Zeeb becomes a police officer. With my back to science class, I start reading McGurk mystery books non stop.
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