Recently a respected member of our work team shuffled off this mortal coil. He was 109 years old but still showed up every day, except in winter layoff.
He was short of stature, halfway up the shinbone of a tall man, but he had the scrappy demeanor of a Scots border fighter of 1000 years ago. His name was Casey, he was a dog. Cheerful in all weathers, feisty as a Glaswegian drunk on payday.
Friday, February 26, 2016
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
70s rockstar haircut
It was haircut time as we approached the end of 2015. I usually get one every 2 or 3 months. I can tell when I need one by how long the hairs on the back of my neck are. If the werewolf hair back there is joining my head to my shoulders by hairs of greater than 2 inches in length, its time to go see the girls at Mastercuts at the mall. I went for a bit shorter on top and more length at the back so its a bit Ziggy/Faces kind of style but not spiky or anything that would turn heads.
The year Twenty Ought-Fifteen has been one I will remember. I had a pretty major health issue that I seem to be beating and had to really pay attention to for a few months. Feeling pretty good now, and science confirms that I should have a few years in me yet. People over a certain age tend to talk about their health issues to the extent that it makes me roll my eyes. I didnt wish to share with every single freakin friend or relative in the world that I had some health problems, and if you ask me how I am, I will say "fine" unless I have something contagious you should know about, and then at a certain point, ideally far into the future I will say "not so good. dying soon." but in the meantime, lets go with "fine."
Nevertheless, feeling fit and feisty at the end of 2015 means more than it used to, so I will say "fuckin rights, I really am fine" and feel stoked about that.
Happy New Year, folks.
The year Twenty Ought-Fifteen has been one I will remember. I had a pretty major health issue that I seem to be beating and had to really pay attention to for a few months. Feeling pretty good now, and science confirms that I should have a few years in me yet. People over a certain age tend to talk about their health issues to the extent that it makes me roll my eyes. I didnt wish to share with every single freakin friend or relative in the world that I had some health problems, and if you ask me how I am, I will say "fine" unless I have something contagious you should know about, and then at a certain point, ideally far into the future I will say "not so good. dying soon." but in the meantime, lets go with "fine."
Nevertheless, feeling fit and feisty at the end of 2015 means more than it used to, so I will say "fuckin rights, I really am fine" and feel stoked about that.
Happy New Year, folks.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
We have earned our Curmudgeon badges
A buddy of mine from way back is even more of a curmudgeon than I am. My beefs are largely about cellphone addicted arseholes who don't respect others' rights to not hearing them blabber away on their phones. Also the blank-eyed calves who wander around, even crossing busy streets, looking at their stupid fucking phones instead of paying attention to the actual world which is present around them, including people driving cars and big trucks that might turn them into a grease spot if they dont look around. Part of me (the dark Darwinian part) wants a few of them to get punted by a Peterbilt out of the gene pool.
My bud likes hunting and fishing, hates kale-smoothie asshats and votes considerably to the right of me. I have other compadres , all over 45 and most over 50, who wish we could return to simpler times.
I miss working on 60's cars where everything was out in plain sight, a dozen beer for 5 bucks, more wildlife and fewer people, iron frying pans and woodstoves you cook on, less rules and tickets, more do-it-yourself and make-it-last. I miss being younger and less cynical too, but I will take the scraps of wisdom life has afforded me and hope they are worth the time it took to get them.
There are good things about this time in history: I love not having a TV and loading good shows I want to watch without commercial blather. The fuckin intanet: avoid the stupid and the tabloidy, and enjoy reading 3 newpapers a day without having to plug a quarter in the box. I like that we are moving toward saner laws regarding smoking a little weed. Yeah, sure, maybe its a medicine in some cases; I recall smoking a few bowls with my cousin who was on heavy chemo for leukemia 40 years ago, it made him feel better. Then we split a pail of Neapolitan ice cream. But I think we should just sell pot (carefully and securely) and tax it like booze.
A lot of us curmudgeons are comfortable with small gas engines, such as those on lawnmowers and older boat motors, able to fix things without panic with found materials in some cases, can make a fire with few matches, know the difference between catshit and coyote shit, how to get rid of a bear without a gun, always carry jumper cables, useful little life skills .
I will be outside cooking dinner on an engine block and mending my fishing gear, if anyone is looking for me.
My bud likes hunting and fishing, hates kale-smoothie asshats and votes considerably to the right of me. I have other compadres , all over 45 and most over 50, who wish we could return to simpler times.
I miss working on 60's cars where everything was out in plain sight, a dozen beer for 5 bucks, more wildlife and fewer people, iron frying pans and woodstoves you cook on, less rules and tickets, more do-it-yourself and make-it-last. I miss being younger and less cynical too, but I will take the scraps of wisdom life has afforded me and hope they are worth the time it took to get them.
There are good things about this time in history: I love not having a TV and loading good shows I want to watch without commercial blather. The fuckin intanet: avoid the stupid and the tabloidy, and enjoy reading 3 newpapers a day without having to plug a quarter in the box. I like that we are moving toward saner laws regarding smoking a little weed. Yeah, sure, maybe its a medicine in some cases; I recall smoking a few bowls with my cousin who was on heavy chemo for leukemia 40 years ago, it made him feel better. Then we split a pail of Neapolitan ice cream. But I think we should just sell pot (carefully and securely) and tax it like booze.
A lot of us curmudgeons are comfortable with small gas engines, such as those on lawnmowers and older boat motors, able to fix things without panic with found materials in some cases, can make a fire with few matches, know the difference between catshit and coyote shit, how to get rid of a bear without a gun, always carry jumper cables, useful little life skills .
I will be outside cooking dinner on an engine block and mending my fishing gear, if anyone is looking for me.
Monday, June 23, 2014
a rumor in music world
I had thought Alice Cooper had quit touring, but I hear a rumor that he and his band are going to make a loop with Canadian 70's-80's rockers Trooper, and they are all bringing their dogs.
Its going to be the Cooper/Trooper Looper,
and the hot item on the merch tables is
the Cooper/Trooper Looper Super Duper Pooper-Scooper.
Thats what I hear, anyway.
Its going to be the Cooper/Trooper Looper,
and the hot item on the merch tables is
the Cooper/Trooper Looper Super Duper Pooper-Scooper.
Thats what I hear, anyway.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Countries of Origin
In Canada, everybody came from somewhere else, or their forebears did. Even the few FBIs (full blooded Indian. First Nations.) who are not mixed with other places' genes, their ancestors came by land bridge way back when.
Where this is going is, my previous manager at work was half German, half Scots. I liked the Scots side, didnt much like the German side. In him, they were distinct, not to sound like a big 'races' guy or anything.
His grandfathers had actually fought on opposite sides of the same battle in WW2. Both survived, obviously but thats pretty damn interesting. Emigrated to Canada after the war was over, settled in the same part of Nova Scotia, had kids, and dang if those kids dont meet up and boink.
I am typing this in the garage (its a perfect day: 22, little breeze, I can smoke out here) on his old laptop I bought from him when he moved to Ontario.
My gal is Polish/Scots. Her dad was in Poland when all Hitler's festivities started, and got out before they were done.
One of my buds is what I call a classic western Canadian mix. He is half Ukrainian from Saskatchewan, Cree from Manitoba, mixed in BC with some Scots.
Where this is going is, my previous manager at work was half German, half Scots. I liked the Scots side, didnt much like the German side. In him, they were distinct, not to sound like a big 'races' guy or anything.
His grandfathers had actually fought on opposite sides of the same battle in WW2. Both survived, obviously but thats pretty damn interesting. Emigrated to Canada after the war was over, settled in the same part of Nova Scotia, had kids, and dang if those kids dont meet up and boink.
I am typing this in the garage (its a perfect day: 22, little breeze, I can smoke out here) on his old laptop I bought from him when he moved to Ontario.
My gal is Polish/Scots. Her dad was in Poland when all Hitler's festivities started, and got out before they were done.
One of my buds is what I call a classic western Canadian mix. He is half Ukrainian from Saskatchewan, Cree from Manitoba, mixed in BC with some Scots.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Dan the Rat Man
I have had some good buds over the years, both of the smokable and human varieties. I knew a man named Dan, he moved to our neighborhood when I was in Grade 8. His mom was raising him, his 2 younger twin sisters, his older sister (who had a great rack) and sometimes his older bro Rick was around, but he was kinda 'underground' cuz he had been a rabble rouser at some riots in the 60s. Dan's mom let us smoke cigarettes in her house, she had one of those great old smoke-makers that was like 20 inches long: you had this huge long paper and put it in the groove, then formed the tobacco in, moistened the glue edge, rolled it up, and it had built in guillotine that cut it into 4 smokes. Also, their house backed onto an empty field that led to the creek party spots along the Red River.
Dan was a smart guy who didnt thrive on school. He had a copy of Leonard Cohen's "the Energy of Slaves" which he liked to quote from, but he skipped out a lot and didnt make it past Grade 10.
I used to cartoon a lot, and Dan's face was a bit pointy , so I drew a cartoon of him as a rat, in a plaid shirt, holding a joint. His last name is Milne, so the talk balloon said: 'the next person that calls me Milney gets a fast one to the head'. Hence, Dan the Rat Man, AKA Rat Milney.
He had some great records, and he dwelt in the basement, and his mom was cool with guys hanging out. More security if her crazy ex came around. Me and Dan once walked from Sevenoaks (jefferson) and Scotia to Brooklands through a 'snowmobiles on the streets' blizzard to get a quarter of hash, and back, in time to bake up and watch an all night horror movie fest on Fargo TV. You have to be from Winterpeg to get that.
Decades pass, Dan gets into the wrong drugs. Havent seen or heard of him for a while, but I wish him well.
He was a great lacrosse player, fast small guy who could stickhandle and dodge the hits, used to play for the north end team, and John Ferguson came to some games when he ran the Jets. Me and some guys are in the bleachers rooting for Dan, chanting "Fergie, Fergie" with booze in paper bags.
Peace out, my friend.
Dan was a smart guy who didnt thrive on school. He had a copy of Leonard Cohen's "the Energy of Slaves" which he liked to quote from, but he skipped out a lot and didnt make it past Grade 10.
I used to cartoon a lot, and Dan's face was a bit pointy , so I drew a cartoon of him as a rat, in a plaid shirt, holding a joint. His last name is Milne, so the talk balloon said: 'the next person that calls me Milney gets a fast one to the head'. Hence, Dan the Rat Man, AKA Rat Milney.
He had some great records, and he dwelt in the basement, and his mom was cool with guys hanging out. More security if her crazy ex came around. Me and Dan once walked from Sevenoaks (jefferson) and Scotia to Brooklands through a 'snowmobiles on the streets' blizzard to get a quarter of hash, and back, in time to bake up and watch an all night horror movie fest on Fargo TV. You have to be from Winterpeg to get that.
Decades pass, Dan gets into the wrong drugs. Havent seen or heard of him for a while, but I wish him well.
He was a great lacrosse player, fast small guy who could stickhandle and dodge the hits, used to play for the north end team, and John Ferguson came to some games when he ran the Jets. Me and some guys are in the bleachers rooting for Dan, chanting "Fergie, Fergie" with booze in paper bags.
Peace out, my friend.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Edmonton on the bus, and a cultural ramble
Having come from a tougher, poorer city, Winnipeg, I find the decent politeness of people in Edmonton getting off the bus saying "thank you!" to the bus driver to be a bit of a mind-blower. I wonder who started it. Or is it like people getting off a wagon train FROM Winnipeg saying "thank you" because their trip is finally over.
Edmonton isnt a weak town by any means, but it is a place favored by immigrants, so there is much more of a presence by recent arrivals. Winnipeggers are mostly people who are born there and die there, and much of the color comes from the Metis people who built the culture there. Native-ish people named by the Scot or Frenchman who knocked up their grandma in 1800, Mackay or Desjarlais, Sinclair or Lambert. Lots of Slavs and Polish or Russian Jews in my part of town too, the Nort End (which sadly, is much wasted by crack and meth now. Booze treated it more kindly). Those Slavs and Jews who used to work on the railway or run barbershops or delis made sure their kids owned their businesses or became dentists or whatever, and the Nort End is a shadow of what it was when I was a kid in the 60s-70s.
I live and work on the south side in Edmonton, on the northern edge of Brown Town. LOTS of people from India, Pakistan, and the middle east came here in the 80s, and they are still coming. And sponsoring their grannies to come and mind the kids while they are out working. Take the #6 bus from Southgate, you'll get it. I work with and enjoy folks from those parts, we get the good ones: politeness standards much higher, work ethic solid, they take care of the grannies n kids.
Vancouver, I think, has areas which are dominated by other cultures, Richmond is Chinese, Surrey is Indian, but here, everybody is more trying to be part of the whole. Lots of other countries of origin I havent mentioned, you can get really good Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese food, Somalia has contributed beautiful women and drug goofs who shoot each other, you do hear Polish and Russian spoken on the LRT, but everybody thanks the bus driver. Which is nice.
Edmonton isnt a weak town by any means, but it is a place favored by immigrants, so there is much more of a presence by recent arrivals. Winnipeggers are mostly people who are born there and die there, and much of the color comes from the Metis people who built the culture there. Native-ish people named by the Scot or Frenchman who knocked up their grandma in 1800, Mackay or Desjarlais, Sinclair or Lambert. Lots of Slavs and Polish or Russian Jews in my part of town too, the Nort End (which sadly, is much wasted by crack and meth now. Booze treated it more kindly). Those Slavs and Jews who used to work on the railway or run barbershops or delis made sure their kids owned their businesses or became dentists or whatever, and the Nort End is a shadow of what it was when I was a kid in the 60s-70s.
I live and work on the south side in Edmonton, on the northern edge of Brown Town. LOTS of people from India, Pakistan, and the middle east came here in the 80s, and they are still coming. And sponsoring their grannies to come and mind the kids while they are out working. Take the #6 bus from Southgate, you'll get it. I work with and enjoy folks from those parts, we get the good ones: politeness standards much higher, work ethic solid, they take care of the grannies n kids.
Vancouver, I think, has areas which are dominated by other cultures, Richmond is Chinese, Surrey is Indian, but here, everybody is more trying to be part of the whole. Lots of other countries of origin I havent mentioned, you can get really good Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese food, Somalia has contributed beautiful women and drug goofs who shoot each other, you do hear Polish and Russian spoken on the LRT, but everybody thanks the bus driver. Which is nice.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
The Parental Time
My folks are both passed, on to the next realm or merely in the ground I dont know. My dad's birthday was Ides of March, March 15, and my ma's was April 1, April Fools Day.
Hence, this time of year I go through some stuff. Its not mourning, or regret, or looking back, its just a time of awareness, some gratefulness, and a lot of reflectiveness. I think about being a kid who had parents, and of being a parent, and of taking care of others.
For instance, I have been sorting through stuff to go to Goodwill because we are moving soon, and I have lived here for 10 years, about a third of that with my son Ed living here too. Found an Alberta flag that used to be the curtain on his bedroom window, took it to work to give to some young guys who are moving into a pad together. Felt a bit dad-ly doing that.
Shared some dad stories with a woman working the till at a liquor store, she was telling me about taking courses on hunting with her son, and going out on hunts with him. I used to jam with my son, not shoot critters with him, but we fished together a number of times. Ed was a really good guitar player before he got into the daily pot smokin, unfortunately that sapped his motivation to practice and get better and is currently limiting him. However, he did get in on some good jams with some talented players, some of whom used to make their living with their axes (or sticks). Dad thoughts.
My mum was a woman (obviously) and its sometimes hard for a guy to imagine how women feel, but taking in some fruit for the young guys at work is something I feel like doing these days. Man cannot live on noodles and McD's alone. She was a deep thinker and feeler, and she was a bit spooky. I think she hovers a bit closer to me this time of year. We both loved spring. I always liked 'making rivers' with the meltwater, and I find myself doing that now, and think of me ol Ma. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sammitches eaten with socks drying on the heat register.
Thanks for taking care of me, Mum n Dad. Hope all is well with you, wherever you might be.
Hence, this time of year I go through some stuff. Its not mourning, or regret, or looking back, its just a time of awareness, some gratefulness, and a lot of reflectiveness. I think about being a kid who had parents, and of being a parent, and of taking care of others.
For instance, I have been sorting through stuff to go to Goodwill because we are moving soon, and I have lived here for 10 years, about a third of that with my son Ed living here too. Found an Alberta flag that used to be the curtain on his bedroom window, took it to work to give to some young guys who are moving into a pad together. Felt a bit dad-ly doing that.
Shared some dad stories with a woman working the till at a liquor store, she was telling me about taking courses on hunting with her son, and going out on hunts with him. I used to jam with my son, not shoot critters with him, but we fished together a number of times. Ed was a really good guitar player before he got into the daily pot smokin, unfortunately that sapped his motivation to practice and get better and is currently limiting him. However, he did get in on some good jams with some talented players, some of whom used to make their living with their axes (or sticks). Dad thoughts.
My mum was a woman (obviously) and its sometimes hard for a guy to imagine how women feel, but taking in some fruit for the young guys at work is something I feel like doing these days. Man cannot live on noodles and McD's alone. She was a deep thinker and feeler, and she was a bit spooky. I think she hovers a bit closer to me this time of year. We both loved spring. I always liked 'making rivers' with the meltwater, and I find myself doing that now, and think of me ol Ma. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sammitches eaten with socks drying on the heat register.
Thanks for taking care of me, Mum n Dad. Hope all is well with you, wherever you might be.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
My insightful buddy at Brown Guys Liquors
Windchill -30 C. Canada won gold in Olympic hockey this morning, but its just another Sunday. My usual routine on Sunday, my only day off for 7 months of the year, is to make a big elaborate chow, currently jambalaya with chicken, hot sausage and shrimp and as many kinds of peppers as I have, plus celery and onion. Poker tourney at 4, the Sunday 2 Grand on Jokerstars. Those remain constant.
Today I went for the beer run up to Whyte Ave by 112 St. , and my buddy Mridul was working; we often chat about stuff. He is a very bright guy, working on his master's in something erudite, like computer modelling for engineering solutions. He works a few 12 hour shifts slangin booze to keep the food in the fridge.
We didnt talk about hockey at all, for some reason he said something about being a Buddhist and washing in the Ganges River, maybe he is tired of being cold. I countered with my own experience which approached Zen, living in the Manitoba bush in winter in an under-insulated cabin. The daily tasks of feeding wood to the stove, and especially hand-augering a hole in the ice to scoop out water for washing. The ice can get to 3 feet thick in winter, and it takes a good half hour to auger through it. My first time, I tried to go too fast, and got sweaty and almost got pneumonia: sweat in -30 can chill you to the core, and the germs jump in. Eventually I learned to time the turns on the auger handle with my breaths, count of 2 in, count of 2 out, pause. It was instructive, even transformative. I also learned to stop the noise in my head that most people have, the muttered worries and plans.
I think the essence of our conversation was that it would be nice to shut that head noise down, so we can think or not think, at will. Turn off the Twitter of the brain. I bet some great people did that, Einstein, Gandhi, Tesla. That's how they were able to invent, they didnt have all that background chatter, so they were working on a clean page.
I aspire to that, but so far, its just been within my grasp a few times in my life.
Today I went for the beer run up to Whyte Ave by 112 St. , and my buddy Mridul was working; we often chat about stuff. He is a very bright guy, working on his master's in something erudite, like computer modelling for engineering solutions. He works a few 12 hour shifts slangin booze to keep the food in the fridge.
We didnt talk about hockey at all, for some reason he said something about being a Buddhist and washing in the Ganges River, maybe he is tired of being cold. I countered with my own experience which approached Zen, living in the Manitoba bush in winter in an under-insulated cabin. The daily tasks of feeding wood to the stove, and especially hand-augering a hole in the ice to scoop out water for washing. The ice can get to 3 feet thick in winter, and it takes a good half hour to auger through it. My first time, I tried to go too fast, and got sweaty and almost got pneumonia: sweat in -30 can chill you to the core, and the germs jump in. Eventually I learned to time the turns on the auger handle with my breaths, count of 2 in, count of 2 out, pause. It was instructive, even transformative. I also learned to stop the noise in my head that most people have, the muttered worries and plans.
I think the essence of our conversation was that it would be nice to shut that head noise down, so we can think or not think, at will. Turn off the Twitter of the brain. I bet some great people did that, Einstein, Gandhi, Tesla. That's how they were able to invent, they didnt have all that background chatter, so they were working on a clean page.
I aspire to that, but so far, its just been within my grasp a few times in my life.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Late February, and reflections
Beautiful robin's egg blue sky with little white brush strokes of clouds. I went out in the back yard of this rather run-down but comfy place I have lived for almost 10 years, remembered when my dog was 7 and my son was 11 and we were all living in this 'cabin in the city'.
I remember when Ed and his buddy Nick were out making a fire in the pit, and it was drizzling a bit. I looked out the kitchen window, thought to myself, 'these boys have a pioneer spirit, makin a fire in the rain.' One was holding a piece of plywood over the pit, while the other lit the kindling. 15 minutes later, I heard a WOOMP, exactly like gas burning up fast, and looked out to see them standing there with sooty faces, and a fire burning. Not so pioneer, but humorous.
I remember when Walter my fine dog was trotting around out in the back yard, keeping the perimeter secure, he had an insulated dog house (built by Ed and me) and an old couch to lie upon. Had some good sessions out on that couch, me and my buds, and Ed and his. Cam , the guitar player from my band in Wpg, he had his son out for a B-ball tourney, he came over and we took the VCR n TV out in the yard and watched Surviving Picasso, one of those great Alberta evenings when it is light until 11:30.
Moving to a new place soon, not far away, but it isnt dog-friendly, and it doesnt have a big fenced yard with backyard couch and coffee table. Nicer, newer, cleaner. I am still an old cowboy/trapper/artist/punk rocker. I want a lot more space than I can afford, a wood stove, a faithful dog, maybe a cat for mice, a vegetable garden, a little distance. Harder to afford that all the time, but I keep hoping.
I remember when Ed and his buddy Nick were out making a fire in the pit, and it was drizzling a bit. I looked out the kitchen window, thought to myself, 'these boys have a pioneer spirit, makin a fire in the rain.' One was holding a piece of plywood over the pit, while the other lit the kindling. 15 minutes later, I heard a WOOMP, exactly like gas burning up fast, and looked out to see them standing there with sooty faces, and a fire burning. Not so pioneer, but humorous.
I remember when Walter my fine dog was trotting around out in the back yard, keeping the perimeter secure, he had an insulated dog house (built by Ed and me) and an old couch to lie upon. Had some good sessions out on that couch, me and my buds, and Ed and his. Cam , the guitar player from my band in Wpg, he had his son out for a B-ball tourney, he came over and we took the VCR n TV out in the yard and watched Surviving Picasso, one of those great Alberta evenings when it is light until 11:30.
Moving to a new place soon, not far away, but it isnt dog-friendly, and it doesnt have a big fenced yard with backyard couch and coffee table. Nicer, newer, cleaner. I am still an old cowboy/trapper/artist/punk rocker. I want a lot more space than I can afford, a wood stove, a faithful dog, maybe a cat for mice, a vegetable garden, a little distance. Harder to afford that all the time, but I keep hoping.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
addictions and farewells
First, to my friends who are trying to kick tobacco (or whatever) this new year: Good luck, good heart, feel loved and respected. It's the same as any shit your body got used to, you have to get rid of it, then get used to not having it, then convince your brain it aint comin back. Count in 12 hour chunks to 96 hours, then count in days to 30 days, then count in weeks till you forget to count. But dont think you can have 'just one', because you cant. Back in the bottom of the fuckin hole if you do. Bad minkey.
Happy and grateful to say I have 4 months and 22 days off tabac.
Farewell and adieu to you fair Garneau ladies, farewell and adieu, ladies of Garneau.. For the landlord has willed that my house be demolished... by April the 10th I must be well away..
I have lived in this fine but eroding house (11246 75 Ave.) for longer than any place I have ever lived except me folks' house at 69 Norham, West St Paul, MB. From which domicile I departed (and sometimes returned, me mum still dwelt there) in the fall of '77. I got here in August 2004, when me fine young feller of a son was 11, and me fine young feller of a German Shepherd was 7. Ed is growed up, Walter is passed on, we are older and different.
I hope that I and my lady shall find swell dwelling in the shire of Pleasantview. I like it down there. I often walk down 106 st to 51 ave, its 15 mins walk to work from there. Close to Big Grocery Stores for her, and 3 liquor stores for me. And Chinese and Empanadas for takeout and delivery.
Wish us all well, butt kickers, movers, lovers of places and people.
RIP Robert Shaw. and Lou Reed.
Happy and grateful to say I have 4 months and 22 days off tabac.
Farewell and adieu to you fair Garneau ladies, farewell and adieu, ladies of Garneau.. For the landlord has willed that my house be demolished... by April the 10th I must be well away..
I have lived in this fine but eroding house (11246 75 Ave.) for longer than any place I have ever lived except me folks' house at 69 Norham, West St Paul, MB. From which domicile I departed (and sometimes returned, me mum still dwelt there) in the fall of '77. I got here in August 2004, when me fine young feller of a son was 11, and me fine young feller of a German Shepherd was 7. Ed is growed up, Walter is passed on, we are older and different.
I hope that I and my lady shall find swell dwelling in the shire of Pleasantview. I like it down there. I often walk down 106 st to 51 ave, its 15 mins walk to work from there. Close to Big Grocery Stores for her, and 3 liquor stores for me. And Chinese and Empanadas for takeout and delivery.
Wish us all well, butt kickers, movers, lovers of places and people.
RIP Robert Shaw. and Lou Reed.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
further to: smart people, stupid wages
What started this off is a convo with a buddy at the till of a liquor store, he is a brilliant man, working on his Master's thesis. He is working for 10 dollars per hour. Many of his co-workers for 9.50, all with at least 3 years of Uni education. Because it is convenient.
The owner is not a bad man, he is paying them the least he can get away with. These guys could go work flogging shit on the phone, big co's. , like Shaw , Telus, etc. But they stick where they are at because it is convenient. These are single guys, with no kids. But what about the single mamas with kids, who work for 9.50. Really? Are we so impoverished in spirit that we cannot give someone the equivalent of what we used to, 35 years ago, as a living wage, so kids and moms can eat ?
Thank you , conservative revolution for increasing our poor , and jailing those who react to that.
12 bucks. 15 bucks. Might cut into the profit margin a bit, but you wont have to hire and train every month.
The owner is not a bad man, he is paying them the least he can get away with. These guys could go work flogging shit on the phone, big co's. , like Shaw , Telus, etc. But they stick where they are at because it is convenient. These are single guys, with no kids. But what about the single mamas with kids, who work for 9.50. Really? Are we so impoverished in spirit that we cannot give someone the equivalent of what we used to, 35 years ago, as a living wage, so kids and moms can eat ?
Thank you , conservative revolution for increasing our poor , and jailing those who react to that.
12 bucks. 15 bucks. Might cut into the profit margin a bit, but you wont have to hire and train every month.
smart people, stupid wages
Back in 1977, I was 18 years old. I worked for 3 dollars per hour. That could buy me a 6 pack of beer, a pack of smokes, a McDonalds cheeseburger, and a phone call. For one hours work.
Now, with a B.A., 38 years work experience in a variety of fields, including hiring, training, firing, budgeting, cash management, customer retention, etc. etc, I work for 17.25 plus bonus.
That buys me either a 6 pack and a McD, or a pack of smokes and a McD. Not all the above.
At 18, I could rent a house for 300 bucks including utilities= one week's work. If you pay rent, you know what it is now. If you dont pay rent, keep doing whatever you do in exchange.
One would think that after earning a degree (B.A., geog and poli sci, admittedly not like engineering) and spending almost 4 decades in the work force , one would be earning more in real wages than one did when living out of cardboard boxes in a rental and beer came before groceries or rent.
The Reagan/Thatcher revolution happened, a calculated assault on working people that created a huge gulf. Yes, its nice for those who got into the well-paid streams, electronic toys are cheaper, air fare to slave regimes are cheaper, but it has left the vast bunch (used to be called masses, but nobody liked that) making less year to year.
The one-dollar raise on a 17 dollar rate doesnt mean much when your expenses (groceries, rent, utilities) go up 10-15%.
If you are making good money now, I am happy for you. If you want the same conditions that enabled your folks to buy a house to be around for your kids, think about it.
Its not lower taxes for the rich, its higher wages for the workin cats.
Good workers will earn more, but lets raise the bottom.
Now, with a B.A., 38 years work experience in a variety of fields, including hiring, training, firing, budgeting, cash management, customer retention, etc. etc, I work for 17.25 plus bonus.
That buys me either a 6 pack and a McD, or a pack of smokes and a McD. Not all the above.
At 18, I could rent a house for 300 bucks including utilities= one week's work. If you pay rent, you know what it is now. If you dont pay rent, keep doing whatever you do in exchange.
One would think that after earning a degree (B.A., geog and poli sci, admittedly not like engineering) and spending almost 4 decades in the work force , one would be earning more in real wages than one did when living out of cardboard boxes in a rental and beer came before groceries or rent.
The Reagan/Thatcher revolution happened, a calculated assault on working people that created a huge gulf. Yes, its nice for those who got into the well-paid streams, electronic toys are cheaper, air fare to slave regimes are cheaper, but it has left the vast bunch (used to be called masses, but nobody liked that) making less year to year.
The one-dollar raise on a 17 dollar rate doesnt mean much when your expenses (groceries, rent, utilities) go up 10-15%.
If you are making good money now, I am happy for you. If you want the same conditions that enabled your folks to buy a house to be around for your kids, think about it.
Its not lower taxes for the rich, its higher wages for the workin cats.
Good workers will earn more, but lets raise the bottom.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
two sides of the same intersection
Lovely day, soft evenin, I have some bevvies at home, then I go up to the Ave. to restock about 11pm. I walk the first few familiar blocks then I am waiting for the 'walk' signal, taking my time cuz lots of Albertans think red means go. I am crossing from the south, a party is crossing from the north: 4 guys with mean ass looks on their face and new Walmart fashions, one chick in a dress, but also sporting a "I have a nasty bug up my ass" look. They are all muttering and casting evil looks about, halfway across the Ave., the chick starts going 'fagGet, fagGet, fagGet' like from a bad Tobe Hooper movie, and the guys are all flexing their cocked arms and darting their eyes around like rats in an empty granary. Not to profile, but they sounded like New Brunswickers, and maybe the priests there are a little too free with the Sunday school class. I have noticed some hate comin out of that province. Lots of nice people too, I am sure, but maybe those arent the ones that come to the Big City out West.
Allright, I tinks to meself. I didnt change expression or look at them, doin my New Yorker thing. I go to Brown Guys Liquor, get a few beers and a shortie of Jameson's, exchanged some pleasant words with the regular Saturday guy, then reverse course to go home. On the return trip, I was following some guy with bags of bottles who looked kinda gay-ish, and sure enough he was met halfway up the first block by 2 Asian guys who definitely seemed gay-ish, and they hugged him, in a friendly way. Then told him he was 'expected at the Hive cuz hundreds of thirsty worker bees were waiting', and they all laughed and went on.
Now, who would any sane person want to be friends with? The first group, or the second?
Hate or hugs?
Hugs for me, thanks.
Allright, I tinks to meself. I didnt change expression or look at them, doin my New Yorker thing. I go to Brown Guys Liquor, get a few beers and a shortie of Jameson's, exchanged some pleasant words with the regular Saturday guy, then reverse course to go home. On the return trip, I was following some guy with bags of bottles who looked kinda gay-ish, and sure enough he was met halfway up the first block by 2 Asian guys who definitely seemed gay-ish, and they hugged him, in a friendly way. Then told him he was 'expected at the Hive cuz hundreds of thirsty worker bees were waiting', and they all laughed and went on.
Now, who would any sane person want to be friends with? The first group, or the second?
Hate or hugs?
Hugs for me, thanks.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
poopin in a backhouse
Had a great 24 hour stay in the country. Such a burgeoning time in this 2 season land. Winter and summer.
Went out to the far pasture with my buddy, ex-sis-in-law technically, but the mom of my niece n nephew and longest female friend. We planted willows along the fenceline, gabbed about a million things, including the multiverse.
My awesome niece is back from the east coast, she is a solid steady human being. Workin 7 days, finished her Bach at NSAC, the two of them were just in NYC and New England 2 weeks ago. Now back in Alberta, diggin the sudden explosive spring.
Yes, I pooped in a backhouse this morning, door open, many species of birds creating an audioscape, reading about the Santa Claus parade in a magazine. My buddy Chief the dog was laying on the path in front, wagging, as if to say : 'Poopin eh? I get that'. He stayed in the city with us for a few weeks but he is happy to be back on 70 acres, he is born n raised for coyote control.
Enjoyed about 4 hours of not hearing any human noise this morning. 3 kinds of blackbirds in the marsh, 80 kinds of tree dwellers, saw a downy and a pileated woodpecker ( I love those, they are like jet fighters with cool paint, the way they fly through the trees), sometimes orioles n cardinals show up in June. Goldfinches, mountain bluebirds, all good.
Went out to the far pasture with my buddy, ex-sis-in-law technically, but the mom of my niece n nephew and longest female friend. We planted willows along the fenceline, gabbed about a million things, including the multiverse.
My awesome niece is back from the east coast, she is a solid steady human being. Workin 7 days, finished her Bach at NSAC, the two of them were just in NYC and New England 2 weeks ago. Now back in Alberta, diggin the sudden explosive spring.
Yes, I pooped in a backhouse this morning, door open, many species of birds creating an audioscape, reading about the Santa Claus parade in a magazine. My buddy Chief the dog was laying on the path in front, wagging, as if to say : 'Poopin eh? I get that'. He stayed in the city with us for a few weeks but he is happy to be back on 70 acres, he is born n raised for coyote control.
Enjoyed about 4 hours of not hearing any human noise this morning. 3 kinds of blackbirds in the marsh, 80 kinds of tree dwellers, saw a downy and a pileated woodpecker ( I love those, they are like jet fighters with cool paint, the way they fly through the trees), sometimes orioles n cardinals show up in June. Goldfinches, mountain bluebirds, all good.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Culture thoughts on a lucky sunny day
I like Edmonotone for a number of reasons. One is that it is multicultural in a more friendly way; most Canadian cities are quite multi-culti but Edmo is more friendly about it than , say, Vangroover, where you have huge Asian and E. Indian communities, but they are somewhat unto themselves, and many whities dont really dig it. Not to paint with too broad a brush, but I think Alberta is a better assimilator. We have a Jewish mayor in Edmo and a Muslim mayor in Calgary, so much for the redneck stereotype, at least in the big cities.
I have a well-assimilated E. Indian boss, and a totally assimilated Filipino sales manager. My coworkers are also diverse, including an Icelandic Metis whose dad is from my old home province of Manitoba. More native Indians than subcontinent back there, and Metis is practically the norm in nortend Winterpeg. Plus the slavs, scots, jews, etc. etc. but all crossbreeding over the past 150 yrs. My g-f knows a gal who is Jewish/Cree (You vant some halvah wit yr bannock?)
I love having light rail transit, because it takes me where I need to go more directly and no stopping for lights. Also, it seems a bit more civilized and euro. I indulge in a adult beverage at times standing on the LRT platform, the tallcan Bacardi n coke looks a lot like an energy drink.
Today was a lucky day in a few ways. I had a very successful week at work (we sell stuff) as did most of my co-workers, and we rocked the previous record for sales per week. Let out a bit early with pay, so we dont get the national boss in too much of a lather, wanting us to do that every week. We are blue-collar minded guys (also a feature of Edmo culture): if we go hard for the team or just plain get lucky, we dont want the foreman to expect that every damn day. Then I just missed the bus, but it stopped for a long train, so I walked up and knocked on the door, and didnt have to wait 15 mins for the next one. Also , a few months ago I upgraded computers, and left a favorite old game in the drive of the old one. I had asked the guy at the store to put it aside for me and I would pick it up, and 3 months later, it was still there. Age of Empires 1a , Rise of Rome, from like 1999. I love slaying those villagers.
This big village I live in, I dont slay. With equanimity I work, walk and ride, and maybe enjoy a beverage or several. Cheers!
I have a well-assimilated E. Indian boss, and a totally assimilated Filipino sales manager. My coworkers are also diverse, including an Icelandic Metis whose dad is from my old home province of Manitoba. More native Indians than subcontinent back there, and Metis is practically the norm in nortend Winterpeg. Plus the slavs, scots, jews, etc. etc. but all crossbreeding over the past 150 yrs. My g-f knows a gal who is Jewish/Cree (You vant some halvah wit yr bannock?)
I love having light rail transit, because it takes me where I need to go more directly and no stopping for lights. Also, it seems a bit more civilized and euro. I indulge in a adult beverage at times standing on the LRT platform, the tallcan Bacardi n coke looks a lot like an energy drink.
Today was a lucky day in a few ways. I had a very successful week at work (we sell stuff) as did most of my co-workers, and we rocked the previous record for sales per week. Let out a bit early with pay, so we dont get the national boss in too much of a lather, wanting us to do that every week. We are blue-collar minded guys (also a feature of Edmo culture): if we go hard for the team or just plain get lucky, we dont want the foreman to expect that every damn day. Then I just missed the bus, but it stopped for a long train, so I walked up and knocked on the door, and didnt have to wait 15 mins for the next one. Also , a few months ago I upgraded computers, and left a favorite old game in the drive of the old one. I had asked the guy at the store to put it aside for me and I would pick it up, and 3 months later, it was still there. Age of Empires 1a , Rise of Rome, from like 1999. I love slaying those villagers.
This big village I live in, I dont slay. With equanimity I work, walk and ride, and maybe enjoy a beverage or several. Cheers!
Friday, November 16, 2012
Mission for Smokes/Ron Wood hair
Gather round ye children, and a story I will tell, about Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, by one who knew him well..
No, this is a story about a quest for smokes, nigh on midnight, when shit is closing.
We live on 75 Ave, there's a Mohawk/Husky station down on 70 Ave thats supposed to be open till midnight. I set off at 11:20, beer in hand, figgered that was plenty of time, its a 10 minute walk. Bastids closed early, so up to 82nd Ave and the Esso I go. Closed also, fookers.
I go kitty-corner to the Liquor depot, figger if I have to walk up to 87 n 112, might as well have provisions, i.e. a shorty of rum. Till dude, highly gay and a friendly sort, recommends the Sailor Jim (or somethin) but I was mainly focused on his wicked Ronnie Wood small faces 'do'. I have been all over the Now Look album by Ronnie lately (Ian McLagan on the kbords y'ken), and saluted him on his look. Now, I am off to 87 n 112 for the pack of smokes. Took the backstreets so I could have a wee nip on the Sailor Jim.
First 'airborne via ice' of the winter at 84 n 110. Sheer ice, polished by lots of retards running 'all season' tires (all seasons in Cali-fucking-fornia) spinning away. I step forth, whoop, 3 feet up, land on my right hip. Fortunately I had the Sailor Jim in my left jacket pocket. Wham! (not so much the thank you ma'am) but regained my footing and made er to the Mac's for the DuMauriers.
Thence hamewards, with a wee nip of the Sailor for pain relief (I'll be feelin it tomorrow).
I love this neighborhood, despite erratic closing times of Tabac vendors.
Keeps me in shape.
No, this is a story about a quest for smokes, nigh on midnight, when shit is closing.
We live on 75 Ave, there's a Mohawk/Husky station down on 70 Ave thats supposed to be open till midnight. I set off at 11:20, beer in hand, figgered that was plenty of time, its a 10 minute walk. Bastids closed early, so up to 82nd Ave and the Esso I go. Closed also, fookers.
I go kitty-corner to the Liquor depot, figger if I have to walk up to 87 n 112, might as well have provisions, i.e. a shorty of rum. Till dude, highly gay and a friendly sort, recommends the Sailor Jim (or somethin) but I was mainly focused on his wicked Ronnie Wood small faces 'do'. I have been all over the Now Look album by Ronnie lately (Ian McLagan on the kbords y'ken), and saluted him on his look. Now, I am off to 87 n 112 for the pack of smokes. Took the backstreets so I could have a wee nip on the Sailor Jim.
First 'airborne via ice' of the winter at 84 n 110. Sheer ice, polished by lots of retards running 'all season' tires (all seasons in Cali-fucking-fornia) spinning away. I step forth, whoop, 3 feet up, land on my right hip. Fortunately I had the Sailor Jim in my left jacket pocket. Wham! (not so much the thank you ma'am) but regained my footing and made er to the Mac's for the DuMauriers.
Thence hamewards, with a wee nip of the Sailor for pain relief (I'll be feelin it tomorrow).
I love this neighborhood, despite erratic closing times of Tabac vendors.
Keeps me in shape.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Hamish and the Light Beer
I guess I started to write this, then decided I was too lickered to type properly.
Not there yet, so here goes with the tale.
My workplace is about a 2 mile walk from a shopping centre called Southgate (south side of Edmonton). I have got in the habit of walking there after work finishes at 9 pm, especially now that the weather is a bit cooler. Keeps me in shape, helps me decompress after work.
I stop by the Superstore liquor store on the way, buy one beer for 1.50, cross over to the north side of the street so the traffic is at my back, and sip a beer for the latter 1 1/2 miles of the trip. Room temp., but not disgustingly warm. The singles are from broken cases. Sometimes I get lucky and there's a Heineken, but usually Coors Light, Molson or Bud.
At Southgate there's another liquor store and the bus and LRT station. Its staffed mostly by gay guys, one cute chick, and a redheaded Scots lookin dude I think of as Hamish. His name card says Alexander, but he looks like a Hamish. He is commendably non-phobic with his co-workers, and quietly flirting with the cute chick. Anyway, he seems like a skater who got a job, not all tattooed or anything, thats more the gay guys, but he also looks like a handy guy with a battle axe at Bannockburn, if ye get me, lad.
This week they had a sale on Brewhouse Light, usually 20 bucks for a 15 pack, but now reduced to 10.99, plus tax. I bought a box on Wednesday, needed to restock Fri night for the long wknd. I brought it up to Hamish's till, he slapped his hand down on it and gave me a level look. "Dude. This is Light. " as if I had let down the team. I replied "Yeah but its just the Light thats on sale , isnt it?" Apparently regular strength was on for the same fine price so I went and got a 15 pack of regular Brewhouse.
Nice guy, I think he's a good shit, and if I ever needed a good battle axe man, I would put him on the short list.
Not there yet, so here goes with the tale.
My workplace is about a 2 mile walk from a shopping centre called Southgate (south side of Edmonton). I have got in the habit of walking there after work finishes at 9 pm, especially now that the weather is a bit cooler. Keeps me in shape, helps me decompress after work.
I stop by the Superstore liquor store on the way, buy one beer for 1.50, cross over to the north side of the street so the traffic is at my back, and sip a beer for the latter 1 1/2 miles of the trip. Room temp., but not disgustingly warm. The singles are from broken cases. Sometimes I get lucky and there's a Heineken, but usually Coors Light, Molson or Bud.
At Southgate there's another liquor store and the bus and LRT station. Its staffed mostly by gay guys, one cute chick, and a redheaded Scots lookin dude I think of as Hamish. His name card says Alexander, but he looks like a Hamish. He is commendably non-phobic with his co-workers, and quietly flirting with the cute chick. Anyway, he seems like a skater who got a job, not all tattooed or anything, thats more the gay guys, but he also looks like a handy guy with a battle axe at Bannockburn, if ye get me, lad.
This week they had a sale on Brewhouse Light, usually 20 bucks for a 15 pack, but now reduced to 10.99, plus tax. I bought a box on Wednesday, needed to restock Fri night for the long wknd. I brought it up to Hamish's till, he slapped his hand down on it and gave me a level look. "Dude. This is Light. " as if I had let down the team. I replied "Yeah but its just the Light thats on sale , isnt it?" Apparently regular strength was on for the same fine price so I went and got a 15 pack of regular Brewhouse.
Nice guy, I think he's a good shit, and if I ever needed a good battle axe man, I would put him on the short list.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
posting, bad teeth, the whole shebang
hey cats n kittens,
Got a nasty old cracked n rotten tooth yanked today, the dentist did a good freeze job, I followed up with numerous amber rum n lemon sippers, against fucko advice. Seems all good til the freezing comes out, but I think its still a 8-9.
Poker not going well, dog is old but happy, me g-f wishes she could get something remotely congruent with her capabilities and experience. NOT stupid ass corporate retail for 40 cents above minimum wage.
I try to focus on the positive, with some help from fermentation.
I now have a tooth missing on the lower right, and lower left, so I can drool ambidextrously.
Fuckin premolars, they never trained those guys right..
good night, and good wrestling..
Got a nasty old cracked n rotten tooth yanked today, the dentist did a good freeze job, I followed up with numerous amber rum n lemon sippers, against fucko advice. Seems all good til the freezing comes out, but I think its still a 8-9.
Poker not going well, dog is old but happy, me g-f wishes she could get something remotely congruent with her capabilities and experience. NOT stupid ass corporate retail for 40 cents above minimum wage.
I try to focus on the positive, with some help from fermentation.
I now have a tooth missing on the lower right, and lower left, so I can drool ambidextrously.
Fuckin premolars, they never trained those guys right..
good night, and good wrestling..
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
stuck in the middle
writing to me ol mate Sam, currently teaching English in mainland China. We go back to 1989, and were roomies for 3 yrs. 'gimme the fuckin keys, muthafucka!' the Usual Suspects..
Gordonski
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DohRa9lsx0Q&feature=endscreen&NR=1
hey man,
Been watching republic of doyle on the cbc.ca website, i doubt you can get it there, but its a good hoot, esp. if you have known some Newfs.
Workin 41 hrs/wk., makin about 700 plus bonus so 600 after Harpo tax, na sa bad. Its work, it pays for me beer and the fenced yard for Walter. Barb is back at the job hunt, she is slimmer all the time, in fact lighter than she has been since her 20s. She is good, smart as hell, and both scots n slav, so we communicate.
Got 4 diff kinds of beans comin up, 2 kinds of basil, and two pots of Early bird tomaters. The back yard is in good shape, got fucko's vinyl couch out of there, left the good couch for Walt n me. Major dirt-pot garden in train. Tables for growin things by the garage.
I took a mental health day from work today, am on beer # 19 and not even wobbly. Had one of my evil headches comin on, took action with beer (painkillers I just barf up) and oddly, 3 litres of beer works better.
My old bud Dave (known since age 5) is comin in for a short visit this weekend. He gave up the sauce cuz his liver crapped out. Our other friend Dave might have averted some pain that way, but he's a stubborn bastid.
Anyway, just wanted to shoot a flare, let you know me, ol Walt and my good woman Barb are all well.
all goodness, my friend.
Gordonski
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DohRa9lsx0Q&feature=endscreen&NR=1
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