The ad wizards at Sears probably think this is clever, but it’s really just kind of dumb.
Although I suppose some people might actually box each other to get to some of those sweet door crasher deals.
No, Sears, no.
Also, wearing boxing gloves would make it difficult to pick up items you wished to purchase in-store or to enter your credit card information if ordering online. I suppose a particularly dextrous person might be able to use their toes or nose (for the online part, less so for in-store).
Also also: Strike two for “boxing week.” Don’t make me put on my boxing gloves.
This morning I was greeted with this from the deck:
Boxing Day, Snow Day–who can tell the difference?
Still more snow. And as forecast, it warmed up just enough to change to rain so sidewalks are now slushy messes and roads have rivers running curbside, topped with layers of slushy snow that might fool you into thinking they’re solid until a vehicle drives through and sprays you from head to foot with a delightful slurry of ice, water and mud.
The forecast over the next four days calls for rain or a chance of rain, so presumably at least the new stuff will wash away, leaving the crusty old stuff still lingering until New Year’s Eve, where 3-7 cm of new snow is forecast. Snow on New Year’s Eve–what could possibly go wrong?
On top of this, I now have that feeling in my sinuses and chest like I’m coming down with a cold. Just as my sore back is finally on the mend. Typical.
I make no promises that I won’t spend the rest of 2016 complaining about the weather and my possible cold. Good night!
As foretold my the ancient prophecies and my post yesterday, it was a white Christmas as the crusty, icy snow from two weeks ago is still lingering around in plentiful amounts. Fortunately, it was also clear so I took the opportunity to go for a walk and keep my back from seizing up. Win-win as long as I didn’t fall. Which I nearly did, multiple times.
As I headed out one of my primary objectives was to find the least slippery route. The majority of sidewalks are clear, as are the streets so this was pretty simple until I got to Hume Park. Once there I got my first look at the Great Tree Destruction of Early Winter 2016. This tree fell near the kids playing area, intent on squashing a tot or two. It had already been cut up by park workers or passing lumberjacks.
One less tree to pester people in Hume Park
The next timber that had timbered was across the trail at the bottom of the stairs leading into Lower Hume Park. This is the same spot where two trees came down during the windstorm of August 2015. It is a very popular spot for trees to fall over, apparently. No one had touched this one yet but I was able to climb over it without issue. (UPDATE: This tree was finally cut up and removed in April 2017.)
Another one bites the dust. Well, snow.
The stairs, which I did not take a picture of because it likely would have resulted in many broken bones, were covered in compacted snow that had developed an icy sheen. The compacted snow was also lumpy. This had the following effect when placing feet on the steps:
impossible for feet to rest solidly, causing them to slide
sliding on an already slippery surface causes more sliding
with little room to accommodate aforementioned sliding it becomes very easy to slide off the current step, land on the one below and then continue the process until the bottom of the staircase is reached, where one would arrive in a pile of broken bones and contusions
I went down the stairs by gripping the handrail with both of my gloved hands and clutching as if my life depended on it, which it did, probably. Even so, I still had my feet give way a few times, nearly causing me to go down express-style. At this point, I knew I would not be coming back up, no matter which way my route went from here.
The third fallen tree was leaning over the sidewalk on North Road, just before the turn-off onto the Brunette River trail. I didn’t take a picture of it because the sidewalk here was not in good shape. It also didn’t look that dramatic as it wasn’t blocking my path.
A short way down the river trail I came across fallen trees #4 and #5. These had been cut and cleared but the debris area indicated they had come down on the trail, intent on taking out hungry squirrels or people out walking in the snow because it’s pretty. While I did take a picture, I prefer this image instead, showing the amazing power of sewers to melt snow. There is a sewer line that parallels the river and every manhole (peoplehole?) cover was a snow-free zone. This batch of eight was big enough to have a picnic on, albeit a stinky picnic.
Sewers: fighting snow since ancient Rome
Fallen tree #6 was at Burnaby Lake. I ventured as far as the Cariboo Dam, where I normally start my runs. The first shot shows the uprooted tree from just behind. It fell away from the picnic area, so only wandering polar bears would have been at risk. The sun is already low in the sky because we have about 40 minutes of sunlight per day right now. Good ol’ winter.
Burnaby Lake, now with one less tree
This shot gives a better view of the trail, which is now a slick, icy insurance claim waiting to happen. I knew it would be like this but it was still kind of depressing. It’s going to take a lot of sun or a lot of rain to clear this out before running can resume. And we are expecting more snow, possibly in as soon as a few hours. I will need to develop an unnatural love for treadmills, for unnatural is all it would be. Or take up knitting, which is currently not affected by snow.
Good conditions for running if you are a snow leopard or abominable snowman
And so it was here that I ended my snowy trek, turning back and heading up to ride the SkyTrain home. It was nice to get out and despite being 2ºC I managed to keep up enough of a pace to not feel cold. But I’d rather be running because when I’m running I’m not within eating distance of Bugles, Ferraro Rocher or other evil concoctions I have foolishly kept in the household.
Technically this is a rare white Christmas, not because I am, in fact, white (which is not rare but persistent), but because there is still snow on the ground. It’s been around eight years since snow hung around for so long. It feels like this snow has been around for eight years.
I went for a twenty-minute walk around the neighborhood this evening and as one might expect on Christmas Eve, it was very quiet, aided in part by rather dense fog. I had people in a car pull over and ask me how to get to the Patullo Bridge. Normally you can find it by just driving toward it–it’s kind of hard to miss. But in the fog, it’s actually really easy to miss. If you’re not familiar with the area you’d have no real sense of where you are. You might be driving into a town that sacrifices tourists to appease a corn god or even into Surrey.
Tomorrow is forecast to be cold and clear, which is fine by me. Boxing Day (the start of Boxing Week, Boxing Month and eventually Boxing Year) is slated to feature more snow. This is not fine by me. I’d like to start running outdoors again before it’s officially spring.
Oh, and I somehow hurt my lower back about a week and a half ago (lifting an old Seanix PC, I think) and it’s been slowly recovering, except last night when it suddenly got much worse. I’ve been more mobile today and have medicated in anticipation of the bed failing to comfort as it should.
So I only really want three things for Christmas:
No more snow this winter (seems unlikely)
My back to feel better (there’s a decent chance it will at least be improving again)
Donald Trump to be kidnapped by Bigfoot, never to be seen again (unlikely but I remain hopeful)
Overall, not the worst Christmas Eve ever but given how generally dismal this year has been, I am content the fog outside isn’t actually on fire.
I moved to Vancouver in August 1986 to take a job at Expo 86. I was 21 years old and paid $4 an hour to work in a souvenir store. This was actually 35 cents above minimum wage. I felt like I was living the high life. I quit a week later after being moved to a shift that ended at midnight (I was young and temperamental) but after thinking about heading back to the island I ultimately decided to stay.
Thirty years later and I’m still here (I’m in New Westminster as I write this, so technically outside of Vancouver proper but still in the ephemeral area known as the Lower Mainland). A few things have changed. Prices, for example. Observe!
1986: one zone transit fare is $1.15
2016: one zone transit fare is $2.75
1986: one-zone monthly pass is $46
2016: one-zone monthly pass is $91
The rent for my first bachelor apartment in downtown Vancouver was $330 per month. This seems like make-believe now, the kind of thing you tell kids and they laugh and say, “LOL, you and your crazy stories, Gramps!”
Today I walked along Robson Street for the first time in quite awhile. Some things haven’t changed–the London Drugs that was there in 1986 is still there now. Earls is still above it. The dueling Starbucks at Robson and Thurlow have been reduced to a single store–but not to worry, several others have sprung up along the strip to compensate.
The original Vancouver Public Library at Robson and Burrard has changed hands a few times, starting as a Virgin Megastore then changing to an HMV before music as physical media finally and truly died. It is now a giant Victoria’s Secret store. Where once people sought knowledge and enlightenment they now seek lacy lingerie.
An old building on Thurlow that once housed a McDonald’s has been replaced by an edifice featuring Versace. This pretty much sums up downtown now. Tony, expensive. Dull.
And crowded, as there are only three shopping days left before Christmas.
I headed over to Nelson Street to see if the old Beverly apartment building, one of the first places I lived in (circa 1987-88) was still standing–and it is! I am actually a little surprised because with real estate downtown being mega-super-insanely expensive, I would have thought this dumpy little walk-up–that my drunk landlord tried to burn to the ground one night–would be long gone.
It even looks better now than it did back then. In 1988 it was painted a much darker brown and looked like a big square poo. This is definitely a step up. Rent is probably $1500 a month now.
By this time I was starting to get cold because it’s winter and winter is like that, so I headed to the warm climes of Pacific Centre mall. My brief, incomplete tour of downtown surprisingly didn’t leave me feeling nostalgic, probably due to a combination of the crowds, cold and so many shops and other places having been replaced. The streets are there, the layout is the same but it feels like a lot of what made the area what it was in 1988 is gone now. Maybe I’ll feel different if I go back in the summer. I’ll put that on my 2017 to-do list, assuming Trump doesn’t nuke the world first.
This article highlights a number of interesting and useful tools–I approve!
One of these is HubSpot’s Blog Topic Generator. I love generators because the results can sometimes work as intended, providing inspiration when you struggle to write anything, but more often they provide unintended amusement because they will happily interpret things literally or combine items in silly ways that are not meant to be silly
This leads to the results I got. As requested, I entered three nouns:
cat
future
writing
I was not advised to write about cats in the future…or was I? Here are my week’s worth of suggested topics:
10 Quick Tips About Cat
What Will Writing Be Like in 100 Years?
10 Things Your Competitors Can Teach You About Future
14 Common Misconceptions About Cat
10 Signs You Should Invest in Writing
First, I must admit I love the idea of this monolithic entity known as Cat. Cat is good. Cat is all. You will respect Cat. I am less convinced that I could come up with ten quick tips about Cat or 10 signs I should invest in writing. But I’m going to try, right now!
10 Quick Tips About Cat
Cat is furry
Cat has four legs
Cat has tail
Cat likes cat food
Cat will chase laser pointer light
Cat will sleep on your keyboard
Cat does not like Dog
Cat loves Mouse
Cat is smarter than you
Cat will come back the very next day
What Will Writing Be Like in 100 Years?
We’ll have fully switched over from fountain pens and foolscap to holo-typing machines that imprint the letters into a space slightly in front of and above our faces. Writing will be a holistic experience, one you share just by running up to someone and saying, “Watch this!” while you spew out words into the air between you and them. Then they will leave because you’re a bit of a freak. Writing will still be a very lonely thing.
10 Things Your Competitors Can Teach You About Future
The future is always just ahead
There’s no future in the past
Prices will be higher
That dude who is taller than you? In the future he’ll still be taller than you
Wait, who are my competitors, exactly?
If you don’t correctly anticipate future trends, you’ll never stop wearing those acid wash jeans
The future is so bright you will need to wear shades
Invest in sunglass manufacturing
What goes up must come down, so invest in elevator technology
Still not sure who my competitors are but they should watch out because I have read many books that predict the future using advanced math or something
14 Common Misconceptions About Cat
Cat is really Dog in disguise
Cat will never miss when jumping onto Couch
Cat likes cheese; it is Mouse that likes cheese, though Cat likes Mouse the way Mouse likes Cheese
Cat uses tail to communicate complex thoughts
Cat is alien species silently watching and judging us
Cat is spelled Kat in some countries; this is only done in cartoons for humorous effect, not in real life
Kit Kat contains real Cat (see above)
There are no cats with nine tails
Cat on a hot tin roof does not mean Cat likes being on a hot tin roof–do not put Cat on hot tin roof
Cat only speaks when it has something important to say (note: this may actually be true, Science has yet to prove one way or the other)
Cat likes taking many baths
Cat will never sleep on your keyboard
Cat will never come back the very next day
Cat enjoys long lists about misconceptions
10 Signs You Should Invest in Writing
You see a big sign that says “You Should Invest in Writing”
Your crazy but rich uncle says, “I’ll give you $100,000 if you write some stupid novel about anything.”
You have a vision of the future and it’s filled with blank pages–and only you have a working pen!
It’s better than investing in 8-track tape technology
Time magazine will one day make “Words” the Person of the Year, making writing hot and in demand
It’s like the lottery, someone’s going to strike it rich, so why not you? (Not applicable if you’re a hopeless hack.)
A typewriter can be used for writing, self-defense and as a door stop; to not invest in something so practical would be foolish
For #7 you may also want to invest in a time machine in order to acquire a typewriter
Darth Vader shows up at your place and says, “Invest in writing or I’ll force choke you where you stand.” It’s probably just another one of your kooky dreams but better to not take any chances
Because you saw it in a list
There, all done! Wait, that was supposed to be stretched over a week. I’ve done it all horribly wrong? Now what will I write about tomorrow?
Not to worry–there are plenty more great prompts just waiting to be used!
On December 18, 2016, the number of people/bots/aliens that visited my site were: 0
I even posted a pretty winter picture that day. You could even use it as a nice wallpaper if you cropped it badly. Maybe just use it as is and add scrolling columns of “Damn snow” on both sides of it. The point is I had new content and no one came to look at it, not even by accident.
But that’s okay because the minor amusement value in pseudo-complaining about it more than makes up for the fact that over 7 billion people exist on this planet and on December 18th not one of them came by to have a look-see at this blog. And if one or more of them comes by today, they’ll see this post and maybe feel bad, which will provide further minor amusement value.
Blondie’s album The Hunter, released in 1982 and at the time thought to be their final album (the next, No Exit, wasn’t released until 1999), is regarded by many to be a stinker, an ungainly mix of styles and songs that don’t really hold together (Rolling Stone charitably describes it as “an offbeat stylistic jumble” more to be pondered than enjoyed). The band became so interested in making thought-provoking songs that it sounds like they aren’t having that much fun. Presumably the listener doesn’t have much fun hearing the results, either.
And yet I have been listening to the album a lot lately and I find it strangely irresistible. In some ways it’s a retread of Autoamerican, replicating a lot of the songs (Orchid Club = Europa, Island of Lost Souls = The Tide is High, The Beast = Rapture) and the experiments here don’t come off as well as they did on Autoamerican. “Dragonfly” is about a spaceship race (!), “For Your Eyes Only” is a rejected James Bond theme, “Orchid Club” sounds like the theme for a cheesy jungle adventure film from the 1940s. Mixed in with these are lighter pop songs like “Danceway” and the sweetly nostalgic “English Boys.” There is no coherence and many of the songs don’t quite gel, lacking passion or vitality in some cases and in a few instances literally sounding as if a song was recorded in the wrong key. My favorite example is the Autoamerican B-side “Suzy and Jeffrey” which sounds like it was accidentally recorded at two-thirds the intended speed, though “For Your Eyes Only” also has a peculiarly sluggish rhythm to it. This is Blondie being dilettantes, more interested in experimenting than crafting the kind of catchy songs that propelled them to fame in the late 70s.
And I like it! Listen to the first thirty seconds of the opening track “Orchid Club” with its tribal drums and monkey screeches. This is not a group interested in duplicating “Heart of Glass.” The album unsurprisingly flopped and the band split up.
But still, I can’t deny that “Danceway” is catchier than it deserves to be and “War Child” could be a great song with only a few tweaks, mostly related to the generally muddy production (a problem the entire album suffers from). “Orchid Club” is great because of its cheese.
Even the album cover is ridiculous, directly playing up the whole hunter angle, with Harry decked out in a giant pile of hair mimicking a lion’s mane and the other band members bedecked with tribal paint on their faces (and looking thoroughly nonplussed about it). It’s silly and yet it’s all part of what makes The Hunter work for me.
I can’t really recommend the album, but if you want to hear what happens when a group gains commercial success then largely turns it back on it to do their own thing, The Hunter is an intriguing listen.
Two days ago I took a stroll along the Brunette River trail, one of my usual jogging routes. It was sunny out but given the (evil-sounding) polar vortex, it was also quite chilly–below freezing, in fact, something that doesn’t happen too often in these parts, especially during the day. It is this continued polar vortex that has allowed the snow to hang around much longer than normal.
Specifically, this snow:
While it is very pretty, trying to run on uneven, compacted snow is less than ideal. In fact, it is probably a good way to fall and go splat, and having done that once this past summer, I’m not eager to do it again in the winter, with the bonus of snow, ice and freezing temperatures tossed in.
Today, two days later, it clouded over and snowed again, piling more snow on top of the existing snow. Tomorrow is forecast to be above freezing, meaning additional snow will actually be rain and bring about the slushpocalypse. The good news is if we get enough rain and it stays above freezing the whole mess will be gone in a few days or so and I can finally run outdoors again, as nature intended.
I won’t promise this will be my last post about the weather, but there’s a 50% chance it’s the last one I’ll make for the rest of the year (13 days).
I read 36 books last year, all of them digital. Those books, if actual physical volumes, could fill an entire shelf of a bookcase but instead they were all contained in a single small tablet (or ereader, as my mood and choice of device varied).
I love the convenience of ebooks. I love being able to highlight words to look them up, to effortlessly pick up from where I left off reading without worrying about a bookmark getting lost, to be able to read in the dark so I don’t disturb others, to flip quickly between different books, to see images and illustrations sharply rendered and in color, something few paperbacks afford these days.
I like being able to read trash on public transit without the pesky social stigma since no one can see the lurid book covers. Actually, I don’t mind people seeing my terrible taste in literature. If I did I wouldn’t carefully track and review everything I read on this blog. But others are bound to appreciate being able to discretely read about unicorn sex or whatnot.
And yet for all these conveniences and perks I can appreciate why some people still prefer actual paper books. There is a solidness, a tangibility to having something you physically heft. It makes the experience of reading seem more substantial. Book covers pop with embossed lettering and illustrations in a way you don’t get from a flat LCD image. The grain of the paper, even the smell of the pages, it speaks to the magic of losing yourself in another world for a little while. I experienced some of this when I was in a bookstore during my mall exercise regime the other day, looking over shelves of books, each a different size or thickness, none of them reduced to bits of digital ephemera.
And then I sighed at how those same shelves are crowded with endless series across every genre. Every story must be spread over ten volumes now, it seems, with single volumes largely left to the “literature” section. If I hear someone go on about world-building one more time I may scream. In fact, I did scream a little just now.
Other things you can’t do with an ebook that you can with a physical book:
beat off rabid animals
use as a paperweight
use as a doorstop (Steven Erickson recommended)
use to build a small fort
use to hide valuable jewels by carving out a secret space inside
use to show off how clever/literate you are in public
flip pages back and forth rapidly with your thumb in order to bug your friends
suddenly snap shut for dramatic effect
have it autographed by Famous Author then sell it on Pawn Stars
When I was a kid and snow was magical instead of maddening, I had pet fish. I had tow tanks for a number of years, a smaller one with gold fish, and a larger one with tropical fish. The tropical tank had the usual assortment of mollies, neon tetras and algae eaters, whose antics I found endlessly fascinating (said antics consisted primarily of sticking to the glass via their sucker mouths or inexplicably chasing other fish). I also had some snails and occasionally an underwater frog mixed in.
Watching the fish was never as engrossing as a good video game (for example) because I was a kid with a kid-sized attention span, but it still was engrossing to just sit back and watch them silently moving through the tank. I wanted tanks as big as I could afford because I wanted the fish to feel less like they were trapped and more like they were just in a really tiny ocean.
As an adult I’ve never had fish but occasionally think of starting a tank again.
When I was exercising at the mall yesterday (see previous post) I went to a pet store that sells not just pet supplies but actual pets. There were rabbits (pee monsters), budgies (screech monsters) and an assortment of other furry critters. There were also tanks of fish, so for the first time in many years I actually stood and watched fish the same way I had as a kid, just with a bunch of other people pushing and shoving around me.
I saw a tank kit that came with some supplies. It looked about 20 gallons in size, though I neglected to check. “I wonder how much a tank costs now versus way back in olden times when I had one?” I said to myself, quietly so all the people around me wouldn’t think I was crazy. I looked at the price: $229. I wondered if maybe a decimal was in the wrong spot or something but no, the price was $229. That seemed like a lot of money for five panes of glass glued together with a few plastic plants thrown in.
Next I looked at the fish. The range seemed to be roughly $3 or so for neon tetras to around $10 for larger/fancier fish. This meant that stocking a good-sized tank would cost probably a hundred dollars or more. I remembered buying fish for about a buck each. Sure, that was back in 1976 and gas was also 29 cents a liter but I still felt some sticker shock. This is what happens when you stay out a market for 40 years.
Even so, I’m still tempted. There are times when watching fish glide though the water while the plants gently sway around them and the bubbles rise steadily behind would be a soothing, even pseudo-therapeutic experience. Until I had to clean the tank, anyway.
EDIT: Looking at this live fish page on the PetSmart website is making me want to set up a tank right this moment. There were a few things that I found intrinsically fascinating as a kid and fish were right in the middle of that list. In fact, here’s the list as best as I can remember it (there may be omissions and the list is not in any order):
dinosaurs
roller coasters
fish
sharks (yes, sharks are fish but they totally deserved their own entry)
reptiles (modern-day dinosaurs in my mind)
miniatures and models (model cars, trains, etc.)
video games (it was early days and everything, even Pong, seemed terribly cool and futuristic)
amusements parks (both going to them and just the general concept, especially themed parks like Disneyland)
monorails (after riding them in Seattle and Disneyland)
fire trucks. I still find them cool. I still can’t explain why.
