A Great Weekend

Last weekend was a great one, and this one's not bad either, because it's 50% longer than the typical weekend.  But back to last weekend . . .

In my last post, you heard me talk about the poker game at the Rose and Thistle and how I'd found it frustrating at times.

The Rose and Thistle, where they believe in double awnings.

Last Saturday, I went back, determined to play looser.  Basically that meant hanging around in nominal hands (ie, having maybe a low pair), while others are raising like crazy.  Turns out I won the game and $280.  That is the single greatest victory of my life!  OK, not really, but at the time it did feel pretty damn good.

Actually, strictly speaking, I didn't win the game either.  Another player (Jeff, my nemesis) and I were in the top two.  The guy running the game gave us the option to simply split the pot.  While I would have liked to have played heads up, I took the option, because that evening I had to hurry off to the Ferryland, Newfoundland.

Our new friends, Michael and Donna, had invited us to attend a live music event in Ferryland and then spend the night in their cabin.

Michael's an interesting guy.  Like me, he grew up in the southern US (White House, Texas) and married a Canadian girl.  He's also very liberal, so we've had a lot interesting discussions about Southern culture and whatnot.  Another wrinkle, though, is that he's also British.  His parents are from the UK, and their work took them all over the world.

That night in Ferryland was nice.  There was a lot of nice music, the place was packed, and people were dancing and drinking like there's no tomorrow.  We left at midnight, and there were still two more acts to come.

We spent the night in Michael and Donna's quaint cabin with the wood-fired stove and got up the next morning and went for a walk.  Below you'll see a slideshow of the gorgeous countryside.

Speaking of good times, Nicole and I sent off the documents on the lawsuit after the house fire.  As most of you guessed, the settlement amount for indeed for less than two million, even less than one million.  The settlement was in the $10-20,000 range.  Certainly, that's a not a trivial amount of money.  But compared to the fact that the company destroyed my home, it doesn't quite seem like adequate compensation.  But then that's why lawyers are so demonized in the US, to make it almost impossible for regular people to gain adequate compensation when injured by the wealthy and powerful.  Mission accomplished!  (Note:  the wealthy and powerful always use lawyers.)

And in other good news, I got word at work that I'm going to be promoted.  

Catching Up

The demand for a new blog entry has become overwhelming, so here I am, scribbling just to please you, dear reader.

Basically, for the past two months, it's been a bit of a grind--a lot of get up, go to work, chill out a bit, rinse, repeat.  That's OK, but it's a quick way to burn through two months.

One of the ways I've been chilling out is playing poker at a local pub.  I think of myself as a decent player.  I played regularly in Texas and continue to on-line, not gambling in either case, just for fun.  Here, though, I find the style of play . . . different.  A lot of wild bets are being laid.  The last time I played I came as close as I ever have to an outburst in a game ("outburst," ahem, in a bad way).  It's been a few weeks since then.  I might try again today.  I have made some friends and acquaintances through the game, and that was the main point.

I did miss the wedding of my good friend Matt to Veronica, a fact I'm not happy about.

Photographer

Nicole and I were looking forward to it a great deal, an opportunity to visit friends and family in New Orleans and beat the snow for a while.  But when the time came, money was simply too tight.  Ah well.

Speaking of snow, my slideshow of St. John's Winter Wonderland should be working here.  (And mine of the Battlestar Galactica exhibit is here.)   There's a lot less snow in St. John's now.

Yesterday evening, on my way out of work, I noticed this scene from my office building.  The snow in the sun had largely melted, while the remaining snow matched the evening shadow of our building.  One of our office administrators got a big chuckle out of my interest in this, but being from the South, I'd just assumed that snow melted uniformly as it warmed up.  That's how it does melt when there is snow in the South.  But having spent several winters in Canada, I can tell you that snow in shady spots can linger for months.  (I find it interesting.)

I'll also tell you that we have a third cat, Mouse.

Mouse, on the left, relaxing with Ella.

Generally, I'd never intended to have a third cat.  But basically, this little street urchin ingratiated herself with Nicole (an easy task) while I was in Texas for a semester.  That and none of my Toronto friends would adopt her, especially John and Ann.  She's a sweet cat, though, and I'm glad she's no longer on the street; she's the luckiest stray cat in Ontario.  She's a grey tabby like Oleanna, but they're very different cats.  Oleanna was long and sleak; Mouse is short and stubby, a furry little bowling ball.  Oleanna was very affectionate; Mouse is still a bit skiddish with that.

That link for Oleanna is to a blog entry about the anniversary of my house fire.  Apropos of that, I can tell you that just last week we reached a settlement against the company whose product started the fire.  I'll blog more about that later.  For now, I welcome your guesses about the size of the settlement:
Free Website Poll

The soundtrack for this blog entry was my friend Alex's nice, mellow music available here.

My Trip Out West

A couple of months ago, I was thinking about the people we know living out west.  Lisa and Elana had just moved to Vancouver.  My friend Tony had been in Seattle for a few years, as had Phil and Morgan.  I thought it'd be nice to have a vacation out there and visit both cities and all those friends.  Then, a few days later, my boss told me about the American Meteorological Society conference in Seattle and that we ought to go, and that was that.

One thing for sure, I didn't want to fly directly to Seattle because I didn't want to expose myself to the TSA's abusive practices.  My plan was to fly to Vancouver on Friday, hang out with Lisa and Elana over the weekend, and then take the train down to Seattle.  Unfortunately on Thursday afternoon I got a call that Lisa's mother was about to pass away, and that they had to hurry back to Toronto.

I was able to reschedule my flight to Sunday morning--early Sunday morning.

The view from my first flight on the trip.

But that also meant I would do all the traveling--from St. John's to Vancouver then down to Seattle--in one day, 22 hours of straight travel.  Several things made the trip easier, though.  I made the trip across the continent in only two flights.  I had exit-row or bulkhead seats for all of my flights.  And on the plane, I was able to watch most of the NFC championship game.  It was a long day, but it could have been worse.

In Seattle, I only had one chance to get together with Phil.  Unfortunately on that day, he injured his eye pruning some grape vines.  (What a wino!)  So we weren't able to get together.

I wasn't able to get together with Morgan either; she was sick that week.  When I told her where I was staying, she said my hotel was right in her neighborhood.  I thought it might have been a few blocks to a few miles from her place.  No, when I stepped out of the hotel and looked to my right, hers was the first building I saw.  I walked by it several times a day, yet strangely we didn't get together.  Ah well.

I was able to get together with Tony, though.

Tony, after I said, "Smile."

On Tuesday, he took me to a bar with 100+ beers on tap.  Then Thursday night, we went to the Science Fiction Museum, where they had a Battlestar Galactica exhibit.  You can see my slide show of the exhibit here.

The Sci Fi Museum's exhibit of the Tree of Life from Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain, a film I highly recommend.

After the museum, we did some old-school bar hopping in a cool Seattle neighborhood whose name escapes me due to the old-school bar hopping.  We had a great visit.

In Seattle, a single of Bailey's in a regular tumbler.

(Let me now point out how impressed I was by the generosity of the Seattle bartenders.  Having grown accustomed to Canadian pours, I ordered a double whiskey; I got a full tumbler of booze.  Canucks, I love ya, but this is one area the Americans have over you.)

The view from the train.

As I've documented, the next morning did not go well, yet that had little to do with the night before.  Fortunately, Elana was able to pick me up at the train station.  Sadly, Lisa's mother did pass away that week, and she'd stayed in Toronto to attend to family business.  Elana and I had a great visit, though, and it did involve alcohol.  It also involved an early flight the next morning as well.

BLOG FLASHBACK:  Previously on UITGWN, I described how the circumstances precipitating my marrying Nicole had involved a trip to Vancouver and Seattle.  While in Vancouver, Nicole and I had brunched in Havana, a cool restaurant.  So when Elana and I were bar-hopping in her cool neighborhood, I was shocked to see and recognize the place, which I'd all but forgotten.  "I've eaten there," I said, which surprised her because she'd just learned about the place.  At the end of the evening, I dragged her there for dessert, which means she watched me eat creme brulee' as we each had one last white Russian.

Havana.

After the border incident on my trip with Nicole, I had returned to Seattle without her and went to a neighborhood bar to drink my sorrows away.  The next morning, I woke up late, still a little drunk, and had to speed through the Seattle rain to return my rental car and make my flight.  Last week as I walked to the Sci Fi Museum, I walked past the place, the 5 Point Bar.

5 Point, a friendly bar worth photographing but not worth crossing the street for.

It was odd to have this trip out west echoing that momentous trip from several years ago.  END FLASHBACK


So on this trip, I saw 40% of the friends I'd planned on.  That's less than I'd hoped, but I enjoyed all my time with them.  I noticed, too, how booze figured prominently in this blog entry.  That's telling me something . . . my friends like to drink too much.


Now I will leave you with a slideshow of the winter wonderland that's befallen St. John's.  Click here.

A Tale of Two Days in My City

Wednesday was only the second sunny day we've had in 2011.  Fortunately, Nicole and I had the good sense to take time to appreciate it on my lunch break.  We went to the top of Signal Hill and enjoyed the view.

It was good that we enjoyed that beautiful Wednesday, because this was Thursday.

Over a foot of snow fell on Thursday.

 The cold wasn't so bad, but getting around was a scary proposition.  St. John's is full of steep hills that don't make for great driving conditions when covered in snow.  In fact, on Thursday, a snow plow plowed into two cars parked on my street (which is very steep). 

When I moved here, my transportation plan for the winter was to live in downtown and have practically everything we need within walking distance (check!) and take the bus to work (no check).  For several months now, the bus drivers have been on strike.  And while I'm sympathetic to the union, I can't help but feel like they've overplayed their hand.  The strike's going on this long has trained people to get along without them and perhaps demonstrated that they're not that valuable.  Drivers, cut a deal and get back to work!

But back to the snow--I had the good fortune of putting my Firebird in storage before all of it hit.  But the guy storing it lives just out of town at an elevation even higher than Signal Hill, so there was some snow at his place.  When I got out, here's what I saw.

My size-12 boot print among the moose prints.

Moose prints.  First, I was impressed with the sight of them, how smooth and round their edges were and how nearly symmetrical they were.  Then once the mechanic confirmed it, I was impressed that I had correctly identified them in the first place.  

The snow's still lingering for now, though fortunately, it's not falling like it was on Thursday.  And really the cold's not bad either.  Now that things have settled down, I'm enjoying it.

 

St. John's Slide Show

"A Time" on George Street

After I mentioned the possibility of a slide show of St. John's, I was barraged by requests--nay!  demands--from followers of my blog for just such a slide show.  So relax, people.  Just click HERE to see it.  You might want to slow down the player's speed to read my captions.

It's hardly an exhaustive presentation.  Largely, I just took a few photos, as Nicole and I walked to our gym in the center of the city.  But I think it does offer a glimpse into the city's charms.

(Look at this!  An election just occurred, and I'm not saying anything political.)

It's back, baby!

With this new chapter in my life, I'm reviving this blog, "Up in the Great White North."  Perhaps that's because, having moved to St. John's, Newfoundland, I feel like I'm much more "up in" the great white North.  To me, St. John's is a more exotic location than Toronto as well, one that prompts reflection.

Downtown St. John's

 Generally, I feel great about where I am right now.  St. John's is the oldest English-speaking city in North America, a charming port city overlooking the Atlantic.  It's got a lot to offer in terms night life, theater, and music, and once Nicole arrives here, I look forward to it exploring it with her.  It's also got a small geographical footprint making it very walkable and bike-able, and the people here are friendly.  I'll have more to say about it throughout the course of this blog.  Nicole and I would welcome any visitors here.

Water Street in downtown.

I also like my new job.  The work is challenging, but such aspirations only hone my skills.  And I get along great with my co-workers.  It's a great environment.

The trip here was interesting, too.  It took me through Quebec and the Atlantic provinces, on to an 8-hour overnight ferry ride.  I was warned that north of Quebec City no one speaks English.  Naturally, it was well north of the city that my car gave me trouble.   And when the CAA truck pulled up, the first thing the driver said was, "I don't speak English.  Do you speak French?"  I had to shake my head.  But he helped me get the car started to my great relief, and I happily gave him a $10 tip.  (Contrary to a lot rumors, I found the Quebecois pretty friendly.)  Once I landed on Newfoundland, I immediately saw a moose.  (In Newfoundland, moose out number people and are involved in a lot of serious car accidents.)  Fortunately, it was beside the road and not looming over it.

And now, I must reflect on my car which got me here.  Arriving here in St. John's, the Firebird has completed a 3,300 mile trip from New Orleans.  The car's 42 years old.  It's got an engine that's quite historic and rare, only manufactured for two years.  That is, it was only manufactured for two years because back in the day the engine was a mechanical disaster, "the Temple of Doom" my mechanic called it.  But Eddie, that same mechanic, re-built the engine and clearly did a hell of a job.  And despite the rat-a-tat-tat of its overhead cam, it runs like a top.  I'd like to call Eddie and tell him how far his work has taken me, but sadly his excellent shop didn't survive Katrina.  Also, this 42 year old muscle car gets 20 miles per gallon on the highway!  There are far too many modern cars that can't match that.  So here's to Eddie and Francis who took such good care of my sweet ride!

Al Gore's Speech Yesterday

In case you haven't heard, Al Gore gave an inspiring speech in which he challenged the nation to eliminate its reliance on fossil fuels in ten years, laying out the environmental, economic, and security benefits of doing so. It makes a lot of sense, and you can watch it here:



The main thing that prompted my posting this speech is he asked me to. I'm not being euphomistic here. I've been one of the more active members on the We campaign, and as such, I was invited to participate in a conference call with other people involved. I didn't talk to him, but it was fun.

Oui, We

Some of you may have seen this ad on the web:


You know I think addressing climate change is a critical concern, so recently I checked it out. I want to encourage you to do the same.

There are two aspects to the non-partisan We Campaign (or WeCanSolveIt.org).

If you click on the "Join We" link, you will be given the opportunity to, essentially, sign an on-line petition demonstrating your support for We's goals and be put on their mailing list. I did this, though I'm generally skeptical of on-line petitions. That's not what's got me excited enough to post about this campaign.

To the right of the "Join We" link is a "Community" link. That's the remarkable aspect of this site. It allows users to join an on-line community and, through the site, provides them with robust networking tools. Through the site, one can form and join groups, host and attend events, create blogs, and make connections, among many other features. It's definitely worth looking at.

Integral Theory

Recently, I read this interview of Ken Wilber and found it fascinating. If you have a philosophical inclination, I highly recommend considering it.

Wilber is the founder of integral theory, which is his attempt to make sense of our disparate bodies of knowledge. With integral theory, he offers a model about how many fields, from physics to biology to psychology and spirituality, relate and have meaning for our lives. This appeals to me. So I read a primer on his theory The Integral Vision. Now I'm reading Sex, Ecology, Spirituality: the Spirit of Evolution, which is an exhaustive examination of this subject. Maybe you'd like this, too.

What's Going On?

Yesterday, after I posted about BSG, I looked over my recent postings and thouht it was kind of pathetic. All of my recent posts have largely been about the media, with embedded clips. There hasn't been a lot of writing about what's going on with me. THAT ALL CHANGES TODAY!

So what's been going on? Not much.

OK, that's not good writing. Honestly, I find myself really bored, which might explain why I consume so much media and post about it. Since I arrived in Canada, I'd looked forward to exploring Toronto. But the weather really inhibitied that. Sunday I found out this winter we were 8 inches (i.e., not much at all) from breaking the record for all-time snow fall. With that kind of weather, you really don't even feel like leaving the house, so I did so as little as possible. Last week, it rained continuously for two days--high's in the low 40's, continuous rain; I'd just as soon take the 8 inches of snow. This week looks like the first to offer some decent weather--still cold, but at least sunny.

Something else has restricted my exploration of the city--the cost of getting around. I do live in the city, but in a neighborhood a bit more family oriented than I'd like. I'd compare it to the Carrollton area near S. Claiborne. Public transit is good and readily available, but it's pretty darn expensive--$2.75, $2.25 if you buy tokens in advance. Compare that to $2 in New York (which is a vastly better system), and $1.25 in New Orleans and that cost starts to add up. All of the city is set up so there's practically no where you can park without paying about $4 for it. The parking meters here are expensive, run until 9 pm, and are rigorously enforced. Having to shell out $4-5 every time you go somewhere gets old. This week, I've got to get a bike.

I have found some gems, though. Actually, Nicole found them. The Cameron House is a great neighborhood bar (another neighborhood) not falling into one of the two types of bars commonly found in Toronto, a pub or some swank, mod club. It's got a creative flare and interesting history. Essentially, it feels like a bar in New Orleans. Sunday night I was there at the bar, waiting for the band, Kevin Quain and the Mad Bastards, to start. I overheard the bartender talking to someone who'd just arrived. The guy said how much he liked the bar, and the bartender said, "Yeah, it's got this kind of New Orleans feel to it." I said, "I'm from New Orleans, and I think you're right, which is why I like it." Then, as always happens, the guy had a lot of questions about what's going on in New Orleans.

The band that night is a good instance of local music. I first heard them when Nicole and I took Megan's neighbor, Matt Ennis, there. The show was really great. Good music, great song writing, and a vibe I would compare to Tom Waits, though not at all derivative. Here's a video, though it doesn't do the grouop justice:



Otherwise, I'm busier than one might think about someone who doesn't have a job. Replacing practically everything you had takes time, and I hate to shop. And then there's a seemingly unending pile of bureaucratic hurdles to jump over. The latest, of course, were my taxes, which were extremely complicated, especially for someone who doesn't have a job. A bit of advice to those who own a double. If you ever imagine selling it two years in advance, you should set up residency in the other side of the double. When you report the sale of the property, any income made on that property won't be considered income from a business.

This isn't funny

Today it has snowed all day. Two days ago I awoke to find the city had been dusted with fresh snow. When I was in New Orleans, Nicole told me the city was hit with a major snow storm. This shit is getting old!

For the past few weeks, it's gradually been warming, snow has been melting. But this shit sucks. I'm not kidding. Make it stop.

The Inner Ring of Moving

Yesterday was our first day with our new place, and we've both been looking forward to getting there. As I've said, we're ready to establish ourselves in the big city, and we're tired of staying in the home of Nicole's parents. We're ready for our own place. Still, it will take a week or so, before we're ready to take occupancy. Furniture has to be delivered and whatnot. Yesterday, we were just trying to drop off a few of our posessions.

But there was a serious winter storm yesterday. The library was closed. Other places were closed. When I got back from the coffeehouse, I said we shouldn't go, but Nicole said we would be OK if we took surface streets. Not being from here and not having heard a weather report, I deferred to her.

Once on the road, I tuned in the CBC to find news reports about the storm. Over 200 traffic accidents in the city that day. We saw several flashing ambulances out and about. This was no day to be on the road.

An hour and a half later, we arrived only to find the prior tenant had not moved out. He was in the process of moving out. Forunately, Nicole stayed in the van, and I talked to the landlord and the tenant. I told the landlord that the tenant would need to pay for the day's rent, which he did. They offered to let us drop off our stuff, but fortunately, I had the good sense to decline. Undoubtedly, his hired movers would have loaded our stuff into their truck and taken off with it.

I say it's good that Nicole stayed in the van, because once I returned and explained the situation, she was really upset. Very upset. I think our moving into our own nice place represents the first tangible step in moving past the difficulties of the last year. She was looking forward to moving; she's done most of the work to get us ready. At the very least, she was upset that the landlord hadn't called to tell us the situation.

I found myself in the strange position of consoling her after spending the latter part of the drive irritated that we'd come out in the first place. Upon further consideration, I began to understand why our landlord hadn't called and other things that were said at the apartment. I mean, the landlord should have called us, but I beieve I understand why she didn't. Two hours later, we returned to Oakville, four hours I'll never get back. I told Nicole in the future we'll laugh about this, but she wasn't laughing. Neither was I.

In his Divine Comedy, Dante portrayed the inner ring of hell as a freezing place. I'm here to tell you he was correct.

Required reading

Here's a good article from Salon.com on how to drive in a more energy-effecient manner: How to get better gas mileage

It's a good summary with links to more specific information.

I know where this comes from!

For the longest time, I'd subconciously considered such images of snow a bit of hyperbole. Usually when I've seen snow, it looks like a small piece of cotton or a tuft of Eartha's belly hair. I'd assumed images like the one above were produced under laboratory conditions. Yesterday, that assumption was dispelled.

I was sitting in the library by a window. It was a sunny day, but outside there were small flakes drifting in the air. Sometimes the light would catch them just right, and the reflection made them glitter. And they were so small they didn't fall straight to the ground, as the tuft-like snow does. I guess if it wasn't freezing outside, it'd just constitute a fine mist. So as I made my way home, I found this snow hovering around me. In an instant, one drifted right by face, and I could see its fine, tiny crystal structure. Then it drifted away.

I know everyone from the North reading this will not be impressed. But noticing a beautiful, natural phenomenon for the first time is nice.

Bah fuckin' Humbug!

Well, my main Christmas tradition, the watching of "Bad Santa," has been thwarted. I thought my DVD of it had made the trip up to Canada, but last night when I looked for it, I couldn't find it. What's really frustrating is a few days ago I was in the public library, saw their DVD copy of "Bad Santa" on the shelf, thought about checking it out just in case, but didn't because I didn't want something else to keep track of. Then, on the 23rd, "Bad Santa" was on TV. But I didn't tape it or anything. I believed I already had a copy. The universe was trying to tell me I didn't, but I didn't listen.

Why do I like "Bad Santa?" Simply because the main character strips away any illusions about this holiday, and lays bare the real significance of this holiday's primary character. (Sorry, Jesus.) Harry Shearer's latest episode of "Le Show" was pretty funny and cynical. It did some of "Bad Santa"'s heavy lifting for me this year. You can download it here.

Here's my favorite line from "Bad Santa." When a kid tells bad Santa his Christmas wish, he retorts, "Well wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first." I guess this is my way of saying I'm not feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Sorry. But for me, the thought that our society has a season in which a common refrain is "Peace on Earth, and good will towards men" does not sit well with me. I mean I find it disgusting. "Peace on Earth?" That's a punchline, really. I mean, there's no way to deliver that with a straight face. What's really irritating is the "good will towards men" part. I think that's because juxtaposed with peace on Earth, good will towards men seems so simple, such a relatively small request, and it's just as scarce as peace on Earth. So it's perversely appropriate that the culminating event in our society's season of "peace on Earth" is an orgy of consumerism. Want peace on Earth? Well, wish in one hand, shit in the other, and tell me which one fills up first.

Last night, Nicole made Christmas dinner. As we sat down to it, I played "O Holy Night" as performed by Trombone Shorty. As those sharp brass notes fell in my ears, I couldn't help it and started tearing up. As 2007 concludes, it's impossible to feel good about it. It's a year in which difficult situations have suffered serious setbacks, not just for me but my city as well, not just for my city but my country, not just for my country but the planet.

This holiday season I hope you are able to spend time with those you love and that such love gives us the courage to make this world a better place.

A Sighting

When I've seen meteors, they look like what they're called, shooting stars, a white pin point of light streaking across the sky. Recently though, I saw something else.

For the first month I was here, Nicole and I were staying in an apartment in a residential area a couple of miles outside of downtown. At night, it was really dark outside; there were no streetlights or porchlights nearby. The darkness offered a nice view of the stars, and I'd stare up at them when out there, typically when going from the car to the apartment.

One night, I was looking up at the stars when a meteor streaked into view. But it was no pin point. It was thick, about as thick as my fist. I could see the orange flame as it burned and the trail of smoke it left in the sky. It seemed to move slower than other meteors I've seen, and it seemed no higher than three stories in the air. Within a couple of seconds, it was out of view.

It seemed like a meteor completing its descent to Earth. I listened for a crash but didn't hear one. Maybe someone ended up with a piece of space rock, maybe it burned up. But it was fascinating to see.