It may be a coincidence that services like Netflix and the other video on demand providers are becoming more popular when a night out at the movies no longer considered a cheap evening out. Or maybe it’s because the theater chains aren’t even trying anymore.
Witness this shot taken at Oakridge Centre a few days back. You can see which movies are playing. Good. You also get the ratings. Er, handy if you have young kids and are wondering if Saw 8 is appropriate for a five year old, I suppose. But where are the times?
Look at all that white space on the sign, it is mesmerizing in its starkness, like gazing upon the fields of permafrost at the Arctic circle. At one time this white space was filled with the times they were showing the movies. Now they don’t bother because I guess they figure you’ll just look up the times on your ‘Aren’t you fancy?’ smartphone. Or maybe they figure you’ll actually schlep to the theater box office and check the times there and if they don’t line up for you, you’ll just shrug and walk away, happily thinking about how you were glad to get that little bit of extra exercise walking over to the box office for what turned out to be no reason!
Anyway, lazy theater owners. Bad Empire, bad. Not evil, which would actually sound much cooler, but still…bad.
The two most striking things about the federal election so far are:
1) The strange surge in popular support for the NDP, especially in Quebec (see this poll as one example; note: for your own personal safety/sanity do not read the user comments)
2) The uniformly awful ads, which seem to be almost exclusively negative and regardless of affiliation, insulting to the intelligence
And speaking of ads (segue ahoy!) here’s an example of what I can only consider to be someone unclear on the concept. In general, I dislike businesses putting political ads in their windows. I don’t want nor need to know your politics if I’m just buying a loaf of bread or a pack of gum or whatever — even if we agree politically. But along Kingsway I have noticed a number of stores and restaurants with political ads slapped up for all to see. My favorite is featured in the window of Wing Shing, which is a fun name to say out loud, if nothing else:
On the left is a poster for the local Conservative candidate. To the right is a photo of the local Liberal candidate. The two parties aren’t exactly clones of each other in terms of platform so this seems a bit odd. Maybe both candidates shop there. Money is money, after all. I’d say the shopkeeper was trying to be inclusive but there are seven candidates running and I’m not seeing any posters for the NDP, Green, Libertarian, Communist or Marxist-Leninist party candidates (talk about splitting your [in some cases ultra] left wing vote). Maybe the Conservative and Liberal candidates have nice hair and the shopkeeper votes based on the niceness of hair. That may explain Don Davies’ absence. While he has done a fine job as the MP for Vancouver-Kingsway, his hair does weird me out a little.
This one is a quick update because I didn’t run. Woo!
I didn’t run because yesterday I came down with some kind of 24 hour flu bug that left me alternating between feeling like a furnace and an ice cube. Good times.
Jeff did run — his first in the rain and first along the river trail out near his place in New Westminster. He reports the jacket was needed as it was rather chilly and running on the gravel path was harder on his knees than the mulch used at China Creek.
I shall be partaking in Part 5 (of 27) on Wednesday.
Today, with the weather forecast promising showers, we opted against Jeff’s planned trip to Dog Mountain, as it would take us up into the snow and snow with rain is one of the suckiest weather combos around. Instead, we headed over to the Coquitlam River Trail for a little under 3-hour hike. Unlike Baden-Powell, the river trail features little elevation gain and is relatively flat, so it was not as strenuous a workout, though I did pick up the pace a fair bit on our return.
With an overcast sky but mild temperatures, we set out sans jackets, with the plan to walk the trail to the point where one must ford the river. As it’s a bit deep this time of year and neither of us were carrying any portable watercraft, we would then reverse direction and head back the way we had come.
This was a nice, even relaxing hike. The trail at times moves far enough away from the river and any obvious signs of civilization to create the illusion that you are out there all on your own. We actually never encountered anyone going in, only on the way back. The most distinctive part of the hike–apart from several large and ripe patches of skunk cabbage growing in pond water–were the numerous points where parts of the river crosses the trail. One especially big one (check the photo gallery for more) probably discourages the casual types from proceeding farther, especially at this time of year when non-waterproof footwear means cold and soggy feet. I was happy to just make it across without falling in.
The red arrow on the sign is a bit confusing, as it points away from the trail but if you cast your eyes to the left there are no immediate private property signs that I could see, either, so I dunno. Mystery red arrow!
There are several fish traps near the start of the trail with big ol’ warning signs. This is part of a conservation effort, as the signs explained. I just like the incongruity of something as innocuous as ‘Fish Study in Progress’ being prefaced with DANGER.
We had some light snacks at the point where the river intersects the trail then stopped for lunch at Crystal Falls, where a mother/daughter biking duo and another group with a small dog were also taking pictures/resting. Jeff posed for a pic up close and personal with the waterfall and picked out his steps so carefully I could practically hear the calculations for each footstep in my mind.
As we got back to the truck the first few drops of rain began to fall, but the showers held off until we had packed everything up and headed out. All in all, a nice little excursion. The only downside was me apparently incubating a nasty flu bug the entire hike, which struck a couple of hours later. Weird how that sneaks up on you like some clever sneaky thing.
Conditions were once again very mild for the run/walk today, with a weaker breeze and occasional sun. T-shirts and shorts were fine for the 10ºC or so.
The run was unremarkable. I jogged a bit ahead a few times on the 60 second running segments (which ramp up to 90 seconds next week), as the pace felt almost too slow for my comfort zone. Weird, I know.
This completes Week 1 of 9 for the Couch to 5K program. Jeff is progressing well, already moving from the initial “Oh god my lungs are on fire!” phase to “This feels pretty good.” We’ll see how things go on Monday!
The second workout went well, with Jeff looking snazzy in his new running shoes and running faster through a combination of new shoes, music and endorphins. I also picked up the pace a bit on the running segments, falling more into my normal pace. No stupid injuries to report yet.
And today marked the first baseball practice taking place, as the clink of metal bat on ball was oft-heard while we jogged around the path. I have already begun watching the batters after the several close calls of the last two baseball seasons.
Weather-wise it was mostly overcast and a bit breezy but mild, otherwise. The fountain is working again and as usual has been stuffed so it isn’t draining properly. I may fix that if no one else does. Finally, I’m hoping the Parks Board puts some new mulch on the path as the past winter has been especially brutal on it, stripping it right down to the clay in some spots and exposing numerous tree roots (tripping hazards for joggers and walkers alike). We shall see.
While digging through my man purse for no apparent reason a few days ago, I found myself pulling out the digital camera I thought had been stolen. While it is possible that I managed to avoid seeing it in there even though I turned the pack inside out several times over multiple days, I’m slightly more inclined that bringing the pack to work as usual without the camera convinced someone with a guilty conscience to return it.
In either case, I am glad to have it back. Ironically, I had planned on having a replacement in time for my next hike so I could take some snazzy photos and then with my camera back in my possession I ended up taking no photos at all. But I could have!
In which I join my partner as he goes from the couch to…5K.
Today was the first of the planned 27 outings and all went well at my old familiar haunt of China Creek Park. There were no bees in the fountain, no dogs getting under my feet and tripping me, no meteors suddenly crashing down from the sky. It was, in fact, sunny and mild (around 10ºC), if a bit breezy. We both lost something during the run. At the very start Jeff’s iPhone spontaneously detached itself and went tumbling to the ground. Fortunately he has it inside a plastic case designed to withstand the impact of a nuclear bomb, so it came out unscathed. The aforementioned wind whisked the cap off my head, forcing me to retreat to pick it up. Luckily it didn’t turn into one of those tragicomic episodes where the cap keeps getting rolled along the ground by the wind until it eventually ends up in traffic and smooshed by a series of 18 wheelers passing over it.
No official times/distances to report yet. This week’s workouts consist of alternating 90 seconds of jogging with 60 seconds of walking for 20 minutes. Here’s hoping I manage to avoid yet another injury while getting back up to speed.
The best part of hiking the 2.5 hours we did on a segment of the Baden Powell trail today on the North Shore was probably the weather. It was the first time it’s been warm enough to go sans jackets. In fact, I could have worn shorts and been just as comfy.
The first half of the hike or so was fine, despite our primary destination being a place called Mosquito Creek. After 20 minutes or so I dubbed the path we were on The Snake as it was very undulating, winding left and right and also moving up and down regularly through gulleys, with relatively dense forest that afforded no real views (we did get to one near someone’s private residence that gave a decent view across to Vancouver). After crossing a large footbridge the trail shifted as it began to ascend along a narrow and rock-strewn path. In fact it was so narrow and rock-strewn that the constant looking down and carefully placement of my feet began to give me mild vertigo. As I have a sense of balance that would best be described as ‘not all there’ I felt fortunate not to plunge to my doom or at the very least stub a toe. We kept on for some time at a slow pace, picking our way among the roots and rocks. By the time we forded another stream by crossing a fallen log I was about ready to turn back. Fortunately I had to be home to feed the dog so I had a convenient excuse at the ready!
Here is the only picture taken on the hike — by Jeff, as I took none. The detail isn’t sufficient to really see the ‘Are we there yet?’ look on my face and looking at this, it occurs to me that a bright red shirt is probably the wrong color to be wearing as bears start coming out of hibernation.
All in all this was not a hike I’m eager to repeat, as too much of it felt more like climbing rather than hiking and I want to hike, darn it.
I keep my digital camera in my pack/man purse so it’s always handy if I want to grab a picture of something while I’m out and aboot. While at work, the man purse sits under my desk, tucked beside the plastic box that holds my phone headset and a few notebooks. Last night as per usual I went for my half hour break, doing so one floor up in the 9th floor lunchroom. It is the only time during the shift that the man purse is left unsupervised, apart from a few quick jaunts to the washroom.
Today before work I pull out assorted clutter from the pack so it will be nice and tidy. I notice that the zippered pocket containing the camera seems to be camera-less. I check again and it is indeed gone. I know it was in there as I distinctly recall putting it back in after uploading the hiking photos a few days ago. The camera, it seems, was gently removed from my possession by someone at my workplace — either a co-worker or one of the cleaning staff, likely while I was on my lunch break. They would have had no idea the camera was in there, they just saw the pack and rooted through it, unquestioned by anyone else nearby, apparently. I have no illusions of ever seeing that camera again. I am equally disappointed and angry with my fellow humans.
Since I discovered this theft about a half hour before work, I was not in the best of moods for my shift. As it turned out, I would witness someone later in the evening in a much worse mood.
Tale #2:
The bus ride home from work was interesting — though nothing was stolen this time. Instead of the usual route out of downtown there was a detour down Hastings Street, with police cars a-plenty and several large swaths of street/sidewalk behind police tape but no sign of why the tape was there. I am guessing a stabbing with the perp still on the loose (update: turns out I was correct, though the suspect was caught). Once we passed this puzzling possible crime scene we picked up additional passengers: a set of about a half dozen or so early 20-somethings with some kind of light (lite?) faux punk thing happening, and a pair of heavyset men (more fat than muscle from what I could see).
These groups sat or stood in the front half of the bus. I was in one of the seats in the back, sitting next to a co-worker who lives in the same neighborhood as I do. We are quietly conversing when a rather loud conversation begins in the front part of the bus. It seemed the two groups that got on were exchanging varying levels of vitriol. One of the heavyset guys kept taunting the ‘white boy’ with ‘Last stop! Last stop! Last stop!’ with the then carefully explained threat that that is where he would beat the crap out of him. White boy (who probably weighed about 200 pounds less) murmured things back that I could not hear. The girls in tow looked somewhat alarmed at the events unfolding.
After several minutes of increasingly loud taunts and threats, the bus pulled into the stop at 12th and Clark — a tantalizingly seven blocks from my stop. And there it sat. The driver got up, walked over to Large Threatening Guy and told him, ‘This is the last stop.’ He made it clear that some people would be walking if the tone of the conversation didn’t take a turn for the kinder and gentler.
This did not happen.
The bus rider returned to his seat. Large Threatening Guy went to DEFCON 1 and promised to murder Skinny White Boy at the last stop. At this point I really was content to walk those last seven blocks but the developing altercation was square in front of the rear exit. I am thin but not thin enough to squeeze out of a bus window. So I sat and watched where developments would go.
The friend of LTG got off the bus and gingerly tugged on his ill-tempered buddy, managing to coax him partly through the door. Large Threatening Guy suddenly snapped and shot back in and quickly delivered a punch to Skinny White Boy. The crowd on the bus ravished, like the audience at a gladiatorial fight. Those standing shifted position, some striking defensive poses, others girding for the coming battle.
Instead, the friend of LTG successfully pulled his friend off the bus and the rear doors closed, leaving them to taunt from the sidewalk as the rain pelted down on them. The faux punk group all tittered in the same way people who jaywalk and barely miss getting flattened by a semi do. The remaining seven blocks of the ride proved uneventful.
So to summarize my day:
I hate my job.
I hate camera thieves.
I hate public transit.
I hate people.
I think I hate the planet.
I still like a nice slice of toast with almond butter and a hot cup of chai tea which has almost made me forget the other things.
On a partly cloudy and mild (two digits!) day Jeff and I went out on the Two Canyon Loop, a hike in and around Lynn Creek and the Seymour River up in the North Shore mountains. This particular route provided some nice variety in the terrain, from comfortable straight stretches down alongside the Seymour Rive to steep ascents up stairs and rock to impressive views looking down into the Lynn Valley Canyon from several bridges, one of the suspension variety.
The Lynn Valley suspension bridge was host to a wedding party taking photos in the center of the span when we got there. The many people gathered on either side politely waited for them to finish, which didn’t take long, then proceeded to clog up the narrow span to the point where I got halfway across and gave up. That’s kind of like swimming halfway across a lake and deciding it’s too far, I know, but I hate crowds on narrow, bouncy spaces high above raging rivers. It’s just the way I am.
There was another bridge of the regular flat, non-swaying/bouncing variety earlier in the hike with a similar view. It was pretty much deserted.
A short way past the suspension bridge is a pool that is apparently a popular, if dangerous, diving spot. This sign was posted nearby:
I am not sure why someone carefully excised the letters from ‘caution’ so it would read ‘urged to use extreme ca on’. It doesn’t even sound naughty. I do like that it warns the area has claimed many lives, not just one or two. Many. I guess a lot of people don’t read or the sign is recent. Or both. The no alcohol/fires part may as well be addressed, ‘Dear local teenagers’. Yes, I’m stereotyping but come on, you can picture it. A warm summer night, a bunch of drunk giddy kids skinnydipping and taking photos with their iPhones and simultaneously tweeting and, uh, Facebooking, about it:
LOL Dave is totaly naked lol and the water is SOOOOOO cold!!!!
OMG Dave hit his head diving some1 shuld call that 911 number!!!!
I think I here a bear and — (tweet ends here)
The staircase in that picture goes up an impressive ways. There’s a photo taken about halfway up in the gallery, located here.
The start of the hike took us along the Seymour River and through some areas that were used for mining back in the 1800s. There’s even a spooky old tunnel that was carved into a hillside for a pipeline. It’s kind of odd because the miners/loggers also built a two lane road (now the pedestrian trail) right next to it. Did curved piping not get invented until the 20th century or something? Maybe they had time to kill. At any rate, the tunnel was dark and spooky, as all old tunnels ought to be. We also came across an intriguing wooden archway that I imagined might lead to the lair of the Sasquatch or the site of strange forest rituals. It turned out to just be a short trail to the river.
The total time of the hike was about three hours and we took two breaks, the first under the powerlines, using the (modern) pipeline as a makeshift bench. To my consternation, there were mosquitoes about already. Then again, the place was also swarming with tourists, something else I hadn’t expected in late March. We dined on yummy dried apricots and trail mix all the same. When the sun came out it actually became too warm for three layers and we doffed our jackets. Near the end of the hike the sun hid away and it cooled enough for us to put the jackets back on. All hail the layering system!
We nearly took a wrong turn toward the end of the hike that would have added about 45 minutes to the trip but Jeff’s direction intuition kicked in and we asked a group about which way to head and they pointed us the right way. All hail those who know which way to go! Next time we’ll use the GPS.
This was a nice all-around trek, a perfect way to spend a few hours on a weekend afternoon.
