Hobbit Days
One day we’ll be gianormous. Living life like elephants.
We see it everywhere. Bowed out shower curtain rods used to cheat the system... keeping our girth within bath tubs, even though we’re spilling out over the edges. Claimed space by simply pushing the curtain out.
It’s not just us. Everything is big. Trucks of today are called mid-sized, but that’s only done to make us feel okay about it all. Today’s mid-sized would have been yesterday’s tank.
And it takes time for things to catch up. Parking spaces, be it at malls, or businesses, or home, have not grown. Yet the cars within them are like those bodies in the shower. We need to yellow lines to bow out in shower curtain ways. But they don’t, and it’s a rare sight to see parked cars at malls that sit within the lines.
Within the cars, our cup holders also feel the strain. A large drink bought at the movie cinema will not sit within the cup holder of my car. The funny thing is that the large drinks bought some twenty years ago would also not fit within my cup holder. They’d be too small and would tip and spill all over. Yesterday’s large fast food cup is about the same as today’s small. And, in fact, there are places you’d go today where the small isn’t even an option. Regular goes to large and small has become extinct.
I live alone in a space that’s about equal square footage to a home for four during the 1950s. And yet I would hesitate to move into anything smaller.
Single beds are to be rolled out of. I sleep within Queen sized comfortably and would likely even wake on the edge of oblivion... inches from toppling to the floor... if I slept in a twin or double.
In the world of sports, also massiveness. Football players of today make William “the Refrigerator” Perry appear average. And we won’t have to wait much longer to see the first 300 pound hockey player carving the ice.
I remember being astonished back in the days of Willie Huber (defenceman from the 1980s). I wondered how someone so big was able to keep up at all. Huber was the biggest player of his day by far... and was 6'5", 225 lbs.
Today, there are several players bigger than Huber. Zdeno Chara is 6'9", 255 lbs, Derek Boogaard (6'7", 258 lbs), Hal Gill (6'7", 250 lbs), Andy Sutton (6'6", 245 lbs), and Alexei Semenov (6'6" 235 lbs) are just five of many.
There are attempts at control being made. Smart Cars exist. They’re little more than enclosed golf carts. And the Hummer is no longer in production for civil uses.
It makes me wonder what the future has in store. Not only will we be elephant sized... we may be living fossils. I actually read something recently that said it’s possible that people born today may live to be a thousand years old. In fact, just by googling “live to 1000" I see an article where they say it’s possible that people who are currently 60, may make 1000.
Will we be ten foot tall, six hundred pound, thousand year olders? Will today’s mansions be seen in museum settings with our great great great great great grandchildren holding our hands asking “how did you live in something so small?”
We’ll be there at future movies, a family reunion attended by several thousand people... with parking lots that are acres large as we sit in a room the size of a soccer field, eating bath tub sized containers of popcorn and personal supply hoses of soft drinks.
People of today will be short lived hobbits living in tiny villages. And the Hummer will come back...as a compact.
MONDAY...
— Day shift. First time in a while. I don’t do too bad with it. Slept ok the night before and leave at 1:30 for my physio. Lunch with Shannon and Annick is fun and, in the morning, I’m actually asked to go back to evening shift for the rest of the week due to a lack of space for the people. Good stuff for me.
TUESDAY...
— Evening shift again. AFIS work with Scott and his team. Pretty quiet night and I listen to some music for a while... not too bad.
— Check the MEC catalog for this Spring. They’ve got a folding bike! I always wanted a bike I could fold up and put in the closet and carry down over the stairs with ease. Much more of a city bike than what I have but it does look cool and seems like it would be easier. And folded in 15 seconds. Ohhhh, makes the $800 tempting. Although my knee says no bike for most or all of the summer anyway... and there’s nothing wrong with my current bike either. Ah to be rich.
WEDNESDAY...
— TV on the PVR is nice when I get home. Thai food with Scott is fun at work. Physio was normal in the afternoon and I slept in today... not getting out of bed until close to 11:00 for some reason. There you have it, my day in reverse.
THURSDAY...
— New license plate sticker before work. Pizza with the boys at work. Some TV after work. And Edena and family’s birthday gift in the mail when I get home. More Future Shop gift card... ready for the Play Station 3 to soon be purchased.
FRIDAY...
— My birthday. Fairly normal day though. Physio... work... Get a nice birthday card and cup cakes at work. A&W for supper... home a bit early.
— Lots of emails and facebook messages through the day.
SATURDAY...
— Logy all day today. Barely able to keep my eyes open. Tonight it’s a night with Phil, Sarah and Jamie. Phil’s hot tub followed by food and UFC PPV at my place. Good night.
— Read tonight that Eva Markvoort died this morning. In the Fall I watched a documentary about her fight against Cystic Fibrosis and, since then, I’ve occasionally checked her web journal. Quite a courageous story and she was very open in her writing.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #408
Facebook Fame
It used to be that you’d get famous in a limited number of ways. Growing up, I saw fame as being obtained through either a mention in the newspaper (I still have papers kept from the sports sections where I had a homer in a game or three hits), or by time on the radio (where you’d scurry to get a tape set up in the deck to record the memory), or, the biggest of the big, by getting on TV.
The problem now is that it’s too easy to get put in the public eye. The internet brings blogs, websites, and Youtube. Pictures, videos, article comments... you can weigh in or show yourself with ease. The question is, does this make you famous? Or does it just pander to our desires? I guess a third option is that it’s a really good way to share with a select few and you hope the information is hidden in the internet world of facts, figures and photos. Sort of a version of a tree in the woods. Yes the tree that is your website, blog, or facebook page is out there to be discovered. But out of the millions of trees, how likely is it that yours is going to cause much fuss among anyone other than those that look for it.
Back in the day, parents would take pictures of their children in compromising positions. What child doesn’t have a picture of themselves, sprawled out in a bubble bath, with suds hanging from atop the head? Pictures of spaghetti encrusted faces and hands dripping with birthday cake have also been taken for generations.
The difference was, back in the day, only a select few ever saw these pictures. Girlfriends would get the show on their first visit to mom. Grandparents would pay a buck to grandchildren for the privilege of seeing them at such a cute stage of life. Aunts would fawn and uncles would yawn.
Perhaps a few neighbours would be included among the few. But that was it.
Today, Facebook and Youtube are likely the two most intruding tools of a child’s privacy. From infancy up to about the age of twelve, a child has very little say in regards to how their image is portrayed on the internet. I often see the words, pictures, and videos of proud parents and feel that they should pay the child royalties.
And all dignity is brushed away. Today I saw a Youtube video while on Facebook. A video of a baby from five years ago... sitting in his booster seat with his hard plastic trough bib on (those bibs that catch 85% of fallen Cheerios before they become dog snacks). The entire minute and a half is of an unseen dad making beep and boop noises, causing the infant to laugh like an 80 year old man who smoked too much of his life.
I don’t know the kid. I don’t know the father. Yet I got to see this moment because it’s been passed around the internet for years. It’s one of those videos that has gone “viral”.
But I’m left wondering... in another fifteen years... will that child carry a form of resentment towards his parents for giving him cute celebrity status as an infant?
New borns are the worst hit. Every moment of their lives are thrown onto the web for all to see. Sprawled out on their backs asleep... that’s an internet moment. Dressed up like a pumpkin at Thanksgiving... you know that’s an internet moment. Nakedness in a washtub... why of course baby’s first bath deserves to be put on the net.
A child’s only hope for privacy is to be lost in the shuffle. If every parent does this, there will be so many millions of baby bath time pictures that finding any particular one would be like looking for the needle in the haystack. But I pity the young of today. When it comes to those embarrassing shots only a select few saw, even as recently as ten years ago... today’s infants and children will have to live with the fact that millions of strangers from all over the world can see them.
MONDAY...
— Work again. A little uncomfortable with the knee injury. The brace is sore after four or five hours and then, when taken off for a bit, sitting at a station is not great either. Still, things are alright. With the brace on I do a 15 minute walk at break.
— Pre work physio is fine but looks like sports will be a ways off. Most of this summer will be full of walks and not much else.
TUESDAY...
— Greek night at work. Not as good as normal for me. Got to stay away from the Donair wrap next time. Feta and Olives still make it worth while.
— Watch Blazing Saddles in the morning. Never sat and watched it all before. It’s ok... sort of dated now. Two or three very funny scenes.
WEDNESDAY...
— Go to physio in shorts and t-shirt. It’s 16 degrees today. Nice stuff.
— Keeping up with the walks at break. I’m walking slower than normal but it isn’t hurting the knee any.
— Republic of Doyle is getting better and better.
— Groceries and gas after work... and putting out the trash and such... it ends up being an hour and a half from the time I leave work to the time I’m ready to relax. Blah to that.
THURSDAY...
— Long day at work. Just not in the mood to be there. In fact, nobody seems to be. Two left sick... and one took some vacation time. In the end, there were only two of us in my section.
FRIDAY...
— Slow night again. Just too much certification for one week. Good times at supper with some pizza and good laughs with Roz, Janice, Annick, Anne-Marie, and Wade.
— More knee physio earlier in the day. It’s going alright... slow going but always a bit better.
SATURDAY...
— Lazy day with some TV and naps. Mostly hockey on the tube. I’ve tried watching snow board cross since the Olympics. The problem is the regular tour’s coverage is awful. Not in HD... called by some guy in a studio... and tape delayed enough that there are no interviews and no between race talks... plus guitar riff background to the race is very unnecessary.
It used to be that you’d get famous in a limited number of ways. Growing up, I saw fame as being obtained through either a mention in the newspaper (I still have papers kept from the sports sections where I had a homer in a game or three hits), or by time on the radio (where you’d scurry to get a tape set up in the deck to record the memory), or, the biggest of the big, by getting on TV.
The problem now is that it’s too easy to get put in the public eye. The internet brings blogs, websites, and Youtube. Pictures, videos, article comments... you can weigh in or show yourself with ease. The question is, does this make you famous? Or does it just pander to our desires? I guess a third option is that it’s a really good way to share with a select few and you hope the information is hidden in the internet world of facts, figures and photos. Sort of a version of a tree in the woods. Yes the tree that is your website, blog, or facebook page is out there to be discovered. But out of the millions of trees, how likely is it that yours is going to cause much fuss among anyone other than those that look for it.
Back in the day, parents would take pictures of their children in compromising positions. What child doesn’t have a picture of themselves, sprawled out in a bubble bath, with suds hanging from atop the head? Pictures of spaghetti encrusted faces and hands dripping with birthday cake have also been taken for generations.
The difference was, back in the day, only a select few ever saw these pictures. Girlfriends would get the show on their first visit to mom. Grandparents would pay a buck to grandchildren for the privilege of seeing them at such a cute stage of life. Aunts would fawn and uncles would yawn.
Perhaps a few neighbours would be included among the few. But that was it.
Today, Facebook and Youtube are likely the two most intruding tools of a child’s privacy. From infancy up to about the age of twelve, a child has very little say in regards to how their image is portrayed on the internet. I often see the words, pictures, and videos of proud parents and feel that they should pay the child royalties.
And all dignity is brushed away. Today I saw a Youtube video while on Facebook. A video of a baby from five years ago... sitting in his booster seat with his hard plastic trough bib on (those bibs that catch 85% of fallen Cheerios before they become dog snacks). The entire minute and a half is of an unseen dad making beep and boop noises, causing the infant to laugh like an 80 year old man who smoked too much of his life.
I don’t know the kid. I don’t know the father. Yet I got to see this moment because it’s been passed around the internet for years. It’s one of those videos that has gone “viral”.
But I’m left wondering... in another fifteen years... will that child carry a form of resentment towards his parents for giving him cute celebrity status as an infant?
New borns are the worst hit. Every moment of their lives are thrown onto the web for all to see. Sprawled out on their backs asleep... that’s an internet moment. Dressed up like a pumpkin at Thanksgiving... you know that’s an internet moment. Nakedness in a washtub... why of course baby’s first bath deserves to be put on the net.
A child’s only hope for privacy is to be lost in the shuffle. If every parent does this, there will be so many millions of baby bath time pictures that finding any particular one would be like looking for the needle in the haystack. But I pity the young of today. When it comes to those embarrassing shots only a select few saw, even as recently as ten years ago... today’s infants and children will have to live with the fact that millions of strangers from all over the world can see them.
MONDAY...
— Work again. A little uncomfortable with the knee injury. The brace is sore after four or five hours and then, when taken off for a bit, sitting at a station is not great either. Still, things are alright. With the brace on I do a 15 minute walk at break.
— Pre work physio is fine but looks like sports will be a ways off. Most of this summer will be full of walks and not much else.
TUESDAY...
— Greek night at work. Not as good as normal for me. Got to stay away from the Donair wrap next time. Feta and Olives still make it worth while.
— Watch Blazing Saddles in the morning. Never sat and watched it all before. It’s ok... sort of dated now. Two or three very funny scenes.
WEDNESDAY...
— Go to physio in shorts and t-shirt. It’s 16 degrees today. Nice stuff.
— Keeping up with the walks at break. I’m walking slower than normal but it isn’t hurting the knee any.
— Republic of Doyle is getting better and better.
— Groceries and gas after work... and putting out the trash and such... it ends up being an hour and a half from the time I leave work to the time I’m ready to relax. Blah to that.
THURSDAY...
— Long day at work. Just not in the mood to be there. In fact, nobody seems to be. Two left sick... and one took some vacation time. In the end, there were only two of us in my section.
FRIDAY...
— Slow night again. Just too much certification for one week. Good times at supper with some pizza and good laughs with Roz, Janice, Annick, Anne-Marie, and Wade.
— More knee physio earlier in the day. It’s going alright... slow going but always a bit better.
SATURDAY...
— Lazy day with some TV and naps. Mostly hockey on the tube. I’ve tried watching snow board cross since the Olympics. The problem is the regular tour’s coverage is awful. Not in HD... called by some guy in a studio... and tape delayed enough that there are no interviews and no between race talks... plus guitar riff background to the race is very unnecessary.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #407
Hockey Night
Some food to be avoided.
Tanked topped exercisers talking from beaches
Tell us through TV’s to drink water, eat vegetables
Avoid fast food.
We pull into the parking lot.
To the counter and place an order.
Minutes later a brown and orange bag with waxy cups.
We leave with our fast food.
Parked at the lake.
Where young couples may look for romance
Or drug deals could go down.
We munch our burgers and rings, and sip root beer.
Talk is of hockey.
Players back from the bigs or hot shots on the visiting team
Hoping to see a particular goalie.
The lake glistens in front of us, reflecting lights of homes and the yellow moon.
Food clued up.
Last wrappers crumpled and the smell of onions seeps into the car.
A check of the time, a wipe of the mouth, tickets checked.
We walk towards the lake.
Rounding the shore path.
Ducks sputter within the reeds
Discussing duck days before bedding down.
Cars ahead, coming from all around, guiding in by vested runway workers.
Through the doors and tickets torn.
Like thousands of those murmuring ducks
A hum of conversations echos the halls.
Great voices bellow above, “50 50", “Programs”
Make a right, in and out.
The maze of people maneuvered
Reaching stairs, worn smooth with use
Up we go. Up towards the rafters.
At the top, minor league coziness.
Nothing above us only cross beams
Yet still only twelve rows from ice level.
Groups of men hang in the concourse having a last chat... as the zamboni wanders the white.
We reach our section.
The same for years in the middle of the ice.
Two of three seats nuzzled against a post.
A giant Q painted there as a picture on the living room wall.
There we sit in wooden seats.
Those below us the same people as last game.
A mustached man dad sort of knows, his fur coated wife.
A squish faced man with hair cut by way of salad bowl.
And the players enter in home ice white.
Rock music accompanies them.
The visitors arrive seconds later.
Lead by the goaltender I hoped would play.
Vendors come and go.
Intermissions sometimes brings a stroll.
Other times we stay seated, chatting of what we’ve seen.
Sharing our coaching strategies, and who we think doesn’t quite have it tonight.
Final buzzer.
Hoards depart for the parking lot.
We hang there, standing in our row of three, allowing that third to squeeze by.
We watch for the three stars, seeing if the visitor star is good enough to come out and wave.
Back down the worn stairs.
Slipping into the stream to the doors.
Breaking free into the night air
We give our final recap of the game as we reach the path back to the lake.
And back to the shores.
Ducks are more silent now.
Boots scuff along the path
As we continue to critique tonight’s action.
Back to the lot and dad skips ahead.
My door unlocked and he entering his
Just as I reach the car.
A&W greets us in perfume form.
Home.
Mom greets us, asking how it was.
Neither of us share much.
“Good game, yes pretty good”.
This is hockey night with dad.
Every other night of live hockey is compared to these nights.
None, NHL, minor league or junior.
None match those nights.
MONDAY...
— Medical day. Beat up my knee playing ball yesterday and go to the doctor today. Looks like cartilage damage with a strained ACL to go with it. Off for the rest of the week as walking and driving isn’t too easy right now.
— Physio in the afternoon. Start early to get things fixed up as well as can be. Then it’s the rest of the day where I’ll likely be most of the week... on the sofa with the leg elevated.
TUESDAY...
— Laying around with ice and elevated leg... it is feeling better than yesterday but a walk is still not a very easy thing.
WEDNESDAY...
— Boredom setting in. Watch two movies today... Step Brothers is low end Will Ferrell and Observe and Report is weirdly bad Seth Rogen.
— Physio again. The boredom continues and the knee, although improving, still swollen.
THURSDAY...
— Cold and knee do battle to see which can make my day worse. That’s sickness cold... not opposite of warm.
FRIDAY...
— Knee is feeling somewhat better, especially after physio today. Walk, in the brace, with barely a limp now. Still feeling the cold though. Speaking of sickness... why is it that the hardest disease in the world to diagnose is now the flu? You never hear anyone in the news say “he has the flu”. Hockey players are out with “flu like symptoms.” And Cory Haim died this week... and had been also suffering “flu like symptoms prior to it. With all our advances in technology... somewhere along the way... we lost track of what a flu is.
SATURDAY...
— Watched the movie, Swing Vote... much better than I expected. I liked it. Watched Habs vs. Bruins on HD on the French feed. Really need to get CBC Montreal in HD.
Some food to be avoided.
Tanked topped exercisers talking from beaches
Tell us through TV’s to drink water, eat vegetables
Avoid fast food.
We pull into the parking lot.
To the counter and place an order.
Minutes later a brown and orange bag with waxy cups.
We leave with our fast food.
Parked at the lake.
Where young couples may look for romance
Or drug deals could go down.
We munch our burgers and rings, and sip root beer.
Talk is of hockey.
Players back from the bigs or hot shots on the visiting team
Hoping to see a particular goalie.
The lake glistens in front of us, reflecting lights of homes and the yellow moon.
Food clued up.
Last wrappers crumpled and the smell of onions seeps into the car.
A check of the time, a wipe of the mouth, tickets checked.
We walk towards the lake.
Rounding the shore path.
Ducks sputter within the reeds
Discussing duck days before bedding down.
Cars ahead, coming from all around, guiding in by vested runway workers.
Through the doors and tickets torn.
Like thousands of those murmuring ducks
A hum of conversations echos the halls.
Great voices bellow above, “50 50", “Programs”
Make a right, in and out.
The maze of people maneuvered
Reaching stairs, worn smooth with use
Up we go. Up towards the rafters.
At the top, minor league coziness.
Nothing above us only cross beams
Yet still only twelve rows from ice level.
Groups of men hang in the concourse having a last chat... as the zamboni wanders the white.
We reach our section.
The same for years in the middle of the ice.
Two of three seats nuzzled against a post.
A giant Q painted there as a picture on the living room wall.
There we sit in wooden seats.
Those below us the same people as last game.
A mustached man dad sort of knows, his fur coated wife.
A squish faced man with hair cut by way of salad bowl.
And the players enter in home ice white.
Rock music accompanies them.
The visitors arrive seconds later.
Lead by the goaltender I hoped would play.
Vendors come and go.
Intermissions sometimes brings a stroll.
Other times we stay seated, chatting of what we’ve seen.
Sharing our coaching strategies, and who we think doesn’t quite have it tonight.
Final buzzer.
Hoards depart for the parking lot.
We hang there, standing in our row of three, allowing that third to squeeze by.
We watch for the three stars, seeing if the visitor star is good enough to come out and wave.
Back down the worn stairs.
Slipping into the stream to the doors.
Breaking free into the night air
We give our final recap of the game as we reach the path back to the lake.
And back to the shores.
Ducks are more silent now.
Boots scuff along the path
As we continue to critique tonight’s action.
Back to the lot and dad skips ahead.
My door unlocked and he entering his
Just as I reach the car.
A&W greets us in perfume form.
Home.
Mom greets us, asking how it was.
Neither of us share much.
“Good game, yes pretty good”.
This is hockey night with dad.
Every other night of live hockey is compared to these nights.
None, NHL, minor league or junior.
None match those nights.
MONDAY...
— Medical day. Beat up my knee playing ball yesterday and go to the doctor today. Looks like cartilage damage with a strained ACL to go with it. Off for the rest of the week as walking and driving isn’t too easy right now.
— Physio in the afternoon. Start early to get things fixed up as well as can be. Then it’s the rest of the day where I’ll likely be most of the week... on the sofa with the leg elevated.
TUESDAY...
— Laying around with ice and elevated leg... it is feeling better than yesterday but a walk is still not a very easy thing.
WEDNESDAY...
— Boredom setting in. Watch two movies today... Step Brothers is low end Will Ferrell and Observe and Report is weirdly bad Seth Rogen.
— Physio again. The boredom continues and the knee, although improving, still swollen.
THURSDAY...
— Cold and knee do battle to see which can make my day worse. That’s sickness cold... not opposite of warm.
FRIDAY...
— Knee is feeling somewhat better, especially after physio today. Walk, in the brace, with barely a limp now. Still feeling the cold though. Speaking of sickness... why is it that the hardest disease in the world to diagnose is now the flu? You never hear anyone in the news say “he has the flu”. Hockey players are out with “flu like symptoms.” And Cory Haim died this week... and had been also suffering “flu like symptoms prior to it. With all our advances in technology... somewhere along the way... we lost track of what a flu is.
SATURDAY...
— Watched the movie, Swing Vote... much better than I expected. I liked it. Watched Habs vs. Bruins on HD on the French feed. Really need to get CBC Montreal in HD.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #406
Topic Overload
Topic overload. Maybe it’s a medical problem?
You’d think in a week where I watched one of the three best hockey games of my life, went to one of the best concerts of my life, had my first trip to an NHL luxury box, and hung out for three days off work with a good friend from home... well you’d think writing would be easy.
But I’ve made two attempts this week and ditched both after only a few paragraphs. Too cliched. Or too obvious. Or just not going anywhere.
For instance, the Olympic gold hockey game. What can you say that hasn’t already been said? Simply asking that question is a bit of a cliche in itself. There are a few things I can say about this game. One, it brought back the return of superstition for me.
All week, for Canadian hockey games, I had a lucky quarter in my pocket. Canada has too many commemorative quarters out there. I’ve often joked that I’ll start collecting those rare quarters with the caribou on the front. But a few weeks ago, I noticed a quarter in my change that struck me. An Olympic men’s hockey quarter with a red maple leaf in the background. At the time I was motioning to drop it in the money box at the office kitchen. It would go as partial payment for my Dr. Pepper. But I did a double take and decided to save this one and use one of the other quarters in my hand. I think an Olympic curling quarter was dropped in it’s stead.
So the quarter slid into my right pants pocket. I specify this because, for some reason, I keep most of my change in my left pocket. I didn’t want this one getting mixed in with the rest.
That night, Canada played it’s first hockey game and soundly defeated Norway. A victory that was expected but I also decided the quarter did well and I kept returning it to my right pocket on each game night after. Come to think of it, I don’t think it was in my pocket for the loss to the US in the round robin. Hmm.
Watching the gold medal game at home, I was without the quarter. All change sat in my kitchen, in little containers. That quarter, remained separate, on the counter next to them.
But before I got it, Canada took a lead against the US. I thought of the quarter but decided to leave well enough alone, and I sat quarterless. That is, until overtime. Once the US tied the game, I got up with disgust and drove the piece deeply into my pocket. Some twelve minutes later, Canada scores the winning goal and the quarter remains in a separate location from all my other change.
The other unique thing about the gold medal hockey game. It marks the first time I can remember when I actually buried my head into my hands. If Fox network was covering the game and I did this in the arena, I’d have gotten on TV as one of those desperate fans Fox sports loves to seek out. Fox goes after the prayer and the despaired. If you’re at a sporting event covered by Fox, either slap your hands together in prayer fashion, or bury your head in your hands... you’ll get on TV.
Well when America tied the hockey game with 24 seconds to play, I did literally bury my head in my hands. I looked like someone in the crash position on an airplane. That’s how good a hockey game it was.
What struck me at the NHL game this week, was how anyone could make it into a luxury box. We actually did have tickets for our box, if asked to produce a ticket, we could have easily.
But the thing is, we were never asked. All we were asked is were we employees or guests of the corporation that owned the box. A nose bleed seat ticket holder need only call themselves a guest and they’re pretty much in the clear. I guess the only possible cross up is if you pick a box that is already going to be full that night. Maybe if the host/hostess sees two extra people in the box, they’ll look for tickets. But I was expecting a much more stringent process for us. I looked at luxury boxes as having some sort of airport security style entrance. Little did I know, all you have to do is open the door and walk on in.
As far as the concert goes, there’s not much to say. Wilco puts on one incredible show, and don’t rip you off at the merchandise table either. The only downside is that the National Arts Centre has a strict 11:00 curfew and the band cut two or three songs off their set list in order to clue things up on time. Curfew sort of detracts from the Rock ‘n’ Roll vibe of a show, but Wilco for sure makes you not worry too much about such things. 26 songs is still well worth the money. And as the reviewer in the Ottawa Sun said, they played more in the encore than Mariah Carey did for her entire show (not that I’d know that first hand... Diva Dits).
So it was a pretty amazing three days last week. Sunday Olympic glory, Monday concert heaven, and Tuesday Luxury Box goodness. And I couldn’t write a thing about any of it.
MONDAY...
— Busy day. Pick up Craig at the airport at noon. Downtown for some lunch and to pick up hockey tickets... home for a bit... then back downtown again for supper and Wilco concert. Wilco are always good but they’re bordering on mind blowing these days. I go a little crazy getting one of their LPs, the opening band’s LP, and two Wilco t-shirts. The prices were good so I figured why not do it.
TUESDAY...
— Hockey day. We do some shopping and running around in the morning before heading to Kanata and getting our hotel room in the late afternoon. Walk to the hockey game (about a twenty minute walk) and eat supper there before hitting the Telus booth. Fun stuff. Free snacks, soft drinks, and beer. Some decent people in there (one from St. John’s... but not General Rick Hillier, who was previously expected). After the game we walk back to the hotel for the night.
WEDNESDAY...
— Check out around 10:30. Brunch at Cora’s and some more shopping. I should say... the shopping is 85% done at sports stores... no shoes for the boys. Supper at the Works and then drive Craig to the airport. Home for some TV and rest after a busy few days.
THURSDAY...
— Idiot in Texas writes of the Vancouver Olympics and says Canada was too patriotic and ignored other nations. The amount of Canadian flags all over bring a likening to the 1936 games that the Nazi’s hosted. Anyone who brings up Hitler or the Nazi’s as a comparison to modern things and events is... AN IDIOT. There’s no other way around it. It goes the same for the IDIOTS who are in America speaking of Obama as a modern day Hitler when it comes to health care reform. Whether you’re American or Canadian or lean to the left or the right... if you try to make any argument about anything and you bring up anything Nazi to prove your point... all you’ve done is prove IDIOCY. Here’s the article... http://www.star-telegram.com/2010/02/28/v-print/2003874/in-these-olympics-canadians-only.html
FRIDAY...
— Not much out of the ordinary today. Feeling spring like though.
SATURDAY...
— Out in the evening with Roz, Terry and Larry. Hit a pub, have a few drinks, a bite to eat and chat it up. A fun night.
Topic overload. Maybe it’s a medical problem?
You’d think in a week where I watched one of the three best hockey games of my life, went to one of the best concerts of my life, had my first trip to an NHL luxury box, and hung out for three days off work with a good friend from home... well you’d think writing would be easy.
But I’ve made two attempts this week and ditched both after only a few paragraphs. Too cliched. Or too obvious. Or just not going anywhere.
For instance, the Olympic gold hockey game. What can you say that hasn’t already been said? Simply asking that question is a bit of a cliche in itself. There are a few things I can say about this game. One, it brought back the return of superstition for me.
All week, for Canadian hockey games, I had a lucky quarter in my pocket. Canada has too many commemorative quarters out there. I’ve often joked that I’ll start collecting those rare quarters with the caribou on the front. But a few weeks ago, I noticed a quarter in my change that struck me. An Olympic men’s hockey quarter with a red maple leaf in the background. At the time I was motioning to drop it in the money box at the office kitchen. It would go as partial payment for my Dr. Pepper. But I did a double take and decided to save this one and use one of the other quarters in my hand. I think an Olympic curling quarter was dropped in it’s stead.
So the quarter slid into my right pants pocket. I specify this because, for some reason, I keep most of my change in my left pocket. I didn’t want this one getting mixed in with the rest.
That night, Canada played it’s first hockey game and soundly defeated Norway. A victory that was expected but I also decided the quarter did well and I kept returning it to my right pocket on each game night after. Come to think of it, I don’t think it was in my pocket for the loss to the US in the round robin. Hmm.
Watching the gold medal game at home, I was without the quarter. All change sat in my kitchen, in little containers. That quarter, remained separate, on the counter next to them.
But before I got it, Canada took a lead against the US. I thought of the quarter but decided to leave well enough alone, and I sat quarterless. That is, until overtime. Once the US tied the game, I got up with disgust and drove the piece deeply into my pocket. Some twelve minutes later, Canada scores the winning goal and the quarter remains in a separate location from all my other change.
The other unique thing about the gold medal hockey game. It marks the first time I can remember when I actually buried my head into my hands. If Fox network was covering the game and I did this in the arena, I’d have gotten on TV as one of those desperate fans Fox sports loves to seek out. Fox goes after the prayer and the despaired. If you’re at a sporting event covered by Fox, either slap your hands together in prayer fashion, or bury your head in your hands... you’ll get on TV.
Well when America tied the hockey game with 24 seconds to play, I did literally bury my head in my hands. I looked like someone in the crash position on an airplane. That’s how good a hockey game it was.
What struck me at the NHL game this week, was how anyone could make it into a luxury box. We actually did have tickets for our box, if asked to produce a ticket, we could have easily.
But the thing is, we were never asked. All we were asked is were we employees or guests of the corporation that owned the box. A nose bleed seat ticket holder need only call themselves a guest and they’re pretty much in the clear. I guess the only possible cross up is if you pick a box that is already going to be full that night. Maybe if the host/hostess sees two extra people in the box, they’ll look for tickets. But I was expecting a much more stringent process for us. I looked at luxury boxes as having some sort of airport security style entrance. Little did I know, all you have to do is open the door and walk on in.
As far as the concert goes, there’s not much to say. Wilco puts on one incredible show, and don’t rip you off at the merchandise table either. The only downside is that the National Arts Centre has a strict 11:00 curfew and the band cut two or three songs off their set list in order to clue things up on time. Curfew sort of detracts from the Rock ‘n’ Roll vibe of a show, but Wilco for sure makes you not worry too much about such things. 26 songs is still well worth the money. And as the reviewer in the Ottawa Sun said, they played more in the encore than Mariah Carey did for her entire show (not that I’d know that first hand... Diva Dits).
So it was a pretty amazing three days last week. Sunday Olympic glory, Monday concert heaven, and Tuesday Luxury Box goodness. And I couldn’t write a thing about any of it.
MONDAY...
— Busy day. Pick up Craig at the airport at noon. Downtown for some lunch and to pick up hockey tickets... home for a bit... then back downtown again for supper and Wilco concert. Wilco are always good but they’re bordering on mind blowing these days. I go a little crazy getting one of their LPs, the opening band’s LP, and two Wilco t-shirts. The prices were good so I figured why not do it.
TUESDAY...
— Hockey day. We do some shopping and running around in the morning before heading to Kanata and getting our hotel room in the late afternoon. Walk to the hockey game (about a twenty minute walk) and eat supper there before hitting the Telus booth. Fun stuff. Free snacks, soft drinks, and beer. Some decent people in there (one from St. John’s... but not General Rick Hillier, who was previously expected). After the game we walk back to the hotel for the night.
WEDNESDAY...
— Check out around 10:30. Brunch at Cora’s and some more shopping. I should say... the shopping is 85% done at sports stores... no shoes for the boys. Supper at the Works and then drive Craig to the airport. Home for some TV and rest after a busy few days.
THURSDAY...
— Idiot in Texas writes of the Vancouver Olympics and says Canada was too patriotic and ignored other nations. The amount of Canadian flags all over bring a likening to the 1936 games that the Nazi’s hosted. Anyone who brings up Hitler or the Nazi’s as a comparison to modern things and events is... AN IDIOT. There’s no other way around it. It goes the same for the IDIOTS who are in America speaking of Obama as a modern day Hitler when it comes to health care reform. Whether you’re American or Canadian or lean to the left or the right... if you try to make any argument about anything and you bring up anything Nazi to prove your point... all you’ve done is prove IDIOCY. Here’s the article... http://www.star-telegram.com/2010/02/28/v-print/2003874/in-these-olympics-canadians-only.html
FRIDAY...
— Not much out of the ordinary today. Feeling spring like though.
SATURDAY...
— Out in the evening with Roz, Terry and Larry. Hit a pub, have a few drinks, a bite to eat and chat it up. A fun night.
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