I started this blog about two and a half years ago and named it "Big City Ramblings as the topic was my journey from Edmonton to New York City.
Things have changed since then.
I'm moving again, yes, but this time to a locale not eight times the population, of Edmonton but instead to one that's approximately one-fiftieth of my home-base:
Port Alberni, British Columbia. "Big City Ramblings" no longer applies.
I've got tons to write about:
Losing control of my S2000 on a snow-covered Trans-Canada Highway about 70 km west of Revelstoke (it was my only religious experience of the trip: when the rear end of the car kicked out, my scream of "Jesus FUCK!!!" could be heard above the stereo and it was only the fact that Spoonman and I were fortunate to take a performance driving course from the Dowler family back in the day that I was able to get the vehicle pointed in a relatively westward direction without too much drama).
Discovering that living on a boat is far more involved than simply buying a boat and living on it. Needless to say I won't be living on a watercraft of any sort.
Being amazed that not all human beings are assholes. The people here are amazing: friendly, open and honest to a fault.*
And more. There's tons to do: besides the mundane activity of moving there's a myriad of business opportunities, but what I'm looking forward to the most are the plans that Spoonman, BROWNIAN and I have to boat from Vancouver Island to Costa Rica in the summer of 2009 (on a smallish 30-foot express cruiser). We're going to end up successful, dead or homosexual Navy wannabes.
* Apologies to my friends in Edmonton (and some in NYC): the asshole generalization doesn't apply to you. Also apologies to everyone who's read this: I haven't written in some time and it shows.
Almost 20 years ago (yikes!), Spoonman, Milhouse and myself started what was to be a rather short University career. We had all enrolled in the Engineering program, but despite being as socially inept as possible we just couldn't succeed in course material tailor-made for geeks such as ourselves. I lasted six months, whereas Spoonman and Milhouse made it a full eight*.
We should have seen it coming.
As was the norm back in the mid '80s, all Freshman Engineering students were required to take a Fortran course (yes, that link is about as exciting as you'd imagine it to be). Being shiftless, privileged youth, we quickly determined the best way to get through the course was to have one of us (read: Milhouse) do the assignment and the other two, less motivated fellows would then make some changes to it and submit it as our own. It goes on every day, and we thought we had devised the perfect crime.
Not three assignments into the course, we sauntered into the lecture theater only to see our three student IDs written on the board with a "see me!" written under it.
Busted. Yeah, we were destined for greatness.
But that's not what this article is about.
It's all about my absolute disgust with American television, and how very little creativity is demonstrated by the American networks (although what would you expect from a nation that voted a waterhead** into the White House not once but twice, and where 63% of it's populace identifies itself as religious, with a full 22% of Americans believing the bible is free of errors.).
Case in point: Mythbusters. I really, really want to like this show, but the last two that I watched tested automotive-related topics: first, how to escape from a vehicle sinking in water, and second, if photo radar can be beaten by driving at a very high rate of speed.
"Hmm." I thought to myself. "I could have sworn that both of these were covered a couple of years ago by what is arguably the best show on television: BBC's Top Gear". Sure enough, the Mythbusters tests were blatant rip-offs.
The difference between Mythbusters and Top Gear was only that Top Gear "winged it": for example, when they wanted to test the photo radar "myth", they jumped into a TVR and blew by the camera at 280-290 km/hr. The camera didn't fire, and the "myth" was proven. Mythbusters, on the other hand, were limited by liability and insurance to around 233 km/hr. That's only about 15 km/hr faster than I was driving my SUV (sorry, SAV) on my last road trip, and they had a Murcielago. With a five-point harness. On a race track. With a co-driver. And they failed to confirm the "myth".
Pathetic. It also doesn't hurt that Top Gear is beautifully filmed and they constantly bash the "Good Ol' U.S. of A." ***
* Milhouse now designs roads, overpasses and bridges for a living. It's enough to make me want to turn in my driver's license.
** I am not, in any way, affialiated with Strategery Tees. They do make a compelling product, though.
*** New York City is not the United States. It's an anomaly, and a good one at that. There are intelligent, progressive people in NYC. 90% of the USA cannot claim the same.
Every few months I get the overwhelming urge to jump in a vehicle and go somewhere -- this time it was to Seattle, where a few months ago Spoon & I discovered that bargains and outlet malls can be found like genital warts on Paris Hilton. Allegedly. Of course, these excursions can never go smoothly.
January 23, 2007
6:00 am: Alarm goes off, I sleep through it. So much for making Seattle in one day.
9:00 am: I finally stir. I make a couple of cups of coffee, which I treat like shooters.
9:45 am: On the road at last!
10:00 am: I forgot my handphone. Back to the condo. Fuck!
10:15 am: Back on the road, with the GPS cheerily reminding me to turn left to get to Seattle.
10:45 am: Winter road trips rule! No traffic, and global warming has ensured that it's above freezing and the roads are dry.
11:20 am: It's been four months since I've ingested coffee. I haven't pissed like this since the last time I dropped acid.
12:00 pm: I have a good idea why I don't travel well with others. Between songs like this:
and me screaming the lyrics in concert with K's Choice's "Not an Addict", Sly Fox's "Let's Go All The Way" and the eternal favorite "Jessie's Girl", I can see how this would become tiresome quickly.
12:37 pm: Edson has a Wal-Mart but no Starbucks. Edson sucks a fat cock.
1:54 pm: Hinton sucks a fat cock too. How can they advertise "All Services" on the "Welcome to Hinton" sign without it having a decent coffee shop? The local Wal-Mart is doing great business, though.
2:55 pm: My God, it's full of mountains.
(did anyone catch the "2001" reference?)
4:15 pm: If you need Internet access in Valemont, forget it. They protect it better than Emma Watson protects her balloon knot. (Is it legal to talk about her that way yet? If not, then I meant Emma Thompson). There's wireless hotspots everywhere, but none to be had by the weary traveller.
6:00 pm: Blue River is still discovering the television. I hold up my MacBook Pro and the populace bows to me like I'm displaying the golden idol from the first Indiana Jones movie. Needless to say, there's no Internet here either.
7:25 pm: Finally, somewhere semi-civilized. Clearwater at least has some open hotspots. The weather stinks so bad, though, that this is where the trip ends for me tonight.
(yes, the music is deliberate)
750 km in one day: a pussy number for someone who's driven Edmonton to Toronto straight.
January 24, 2007
9:37 am: What is it about road food that makes it impossible to shit? As soon as I get home I'm going to take a dump that will require that I call a plumber.
10:05 am: Back on the road -- late as usual, but I should actually get some shopping done today!
2:20 pm: The weather is better ...
... and I'm going faster.
Spoon & I did about this speed on the 401 in Toronto back in the day. The 1988 Mustang GT we were driving felt like it was about to take flight or careen into the guardrail. My SUV (sorry, SAV) felt perfectly stable. BMWs rock!
4:20 pm: At the border -- at last!
7:30 pm: Through the border -- at last! I first thought I was being held in secondary inspection to make Osama's uglier brother, who shared my customs plight (as well as our too-small waiting room), feel better. However, when four ... yes four customs officers started digging thought my vehicle, I began to wonder if Anthony decided it would be funny to call ahead and report me as a senior Cali Cartel member. When I was finally permitted to leave, the officer who handed me my keys gleefully informed me that they decided to detain me because "I don't look like I belong in that car". Go fuck yourself, you donut-scarfing, wife-beating, kid-touching menace! Of course I don't have the balls to say that to Mr. Picked-On-Every-Day-In-Grade-School's face, but hoo boy did I ever think it!
8:55 pm: I finally made it to Fry's Electronics. In a related issue, I've finally learned how to properly set my new GPS: when it was not set correctly, it took me through the nickel tour of residential Seattle, including a few neighborhoods where I was seven shades too pale to fit in. Fry's was worth the looks I received (that mirrored those that the customs officers were giving Osama's homely sibling) though; it's a veritable Mecca (hmm ... the third Muslim reference in this entry ... maybe those customs officers had me pegged correctly all along) for the electronics & gadget geek.
January 25, 2007
1:06 am: I'm finally uploading a (very) rough version of this entry. Links and more photos / video will come later.
1:04 pm: Done! I'm just chowing down and I'll be back on the road toot-sweet. Now just to make it through customs unscathed, and I'll consider this trip a success.
3:20 pm: Dealing with Canadian customs is an absolute pleasure compared with the shitdicks from the States. In and through in five minutes.
9:55 pm: As much as I wanted to travel straight through to Edmonton tonight, it's far too foggy and snowy here in Revelstoke to night drive. One more hotel night!
January 25, 2007
7:05 am: I'm finally on the road at a decent hour. I should be home in time to hit the bar tonight!
1:30 pm: Is it a requirement that to be a trucker one must have an extra chromosome? These two photos were taken within 20km of each other:
Sometime in the pm: Yes, I made it home alive. Now I just want to get out of Edmonton again ...
The new year is a time for planning, betterment and most importantly, reflection. Really, reflection isn't all that important, but for the sake of this blog entry it gets a promotion.
My List of Beefs, 2006 Edition
In no way should this be taken as a canonical list, it's only what's coming to mind on this 7th of January, 2007.
- Religion. Might as well start out big. Is there anyone in the civilized world that still needs a collection of fables, myths and bogymen to get them through the night? Hey kids, there's something new in town: SCIENCE. It may not have all of the answers, but at least Michio Kaku doesn't require that a hippie feed hundreds with a single fish (proof that Jesus was a Jew, by the way. What a cheap fuck) nor does Stephen Hawking dictate that if one blows oneself up he'll get to rail 72 virgins. It's all ridiculous. Faith? Fine. Keep it to yourself. Religion? The definition is "man's interpretation of god's will", aka bullshit.
- Alberta "non-residents". If you live in Alberta, you know these assholes well. They've shown up in droves to walk our streets paved with gold and have now turned what was a marginal city to begin with (Edmonton) into an unbridled shithole. With no roots (and let's be honest: very little social savoir faire: after all, those that can pack everything they own into their 1977 Caprice or 1980 F-150 and leave life behind on the spur of the moment probably didn't go to finishing school), they are treating Edmonton (and especially my neighborhood, Old Strathcona) like their personal toilet. They know who they are: they're driving a car purchased at an E-town dealer but it still has Saskatchewan plates (wouldn't want to contribute to the local economy when they can suckle at the Saskatchewan government's teat). They think Calvin pissing on Ford/Chevy/Dodge is high comedy. Their Sunday best consists of Bearwear and a "Make Mine Beer!" t-shirt. Fuck them all in the mouth. Speaking of The Bear, who the fuck still listens to terrestrial radio?
- The Musical Tastes of 20-Somethings. I know, I know, I'm going to come across as old and bitter, but so be it: I'm in my upper 30s after all. When did the "My mother doesn't understand me so I've got to cut myself" caterwauling of "A Simple Plan" or "My Chemical Romance" become good music? For that matter, I've heard nothing but raving about "The Decemberists" from the horn-rimmed glasses crowd, but all they are (from what I can tell from a listen to "The Crane Wife") is a modern interpretation of prog-rock. Pick up some King Crimson or Jethro Tull and enjoy some original music, not the rehashed, pretentious whinnying of Colin Meloy (quite possibly the worst vocalist I've heard since the "How's Your News" theme). It's utter dogshit and makes me wish for the resurgence of new wave.
- Hypocritical Blog Authors. I moved to Toronto for 2 1/2 years for a job and own "The Crane Wife". What of it? At least I'm not testifying on a street corner.
