you gotta know when to hold'em

When did vending machines become slot machines? I was walking down the hall today and I noticed the strangest sign on the vending machine. "Buy an ice cold coke and you can win money from this machine!"

I have no idea how it works, and don't want to know. I don't have many vices. I can have a cigarette and feel no need for another. I usually only drink socially.

However, with gambling it's a completely different story, it's an addiction.

A lot of people in my family gamble. They enjoy it, and they gamble responsibly. My parents, my grandmother, my sister, my brother, the vancouver uncles, etc. Not me. The last time I was in a casino was just over five years ago. I took my parents up to the casino for their birthday. This trip stands out as I was 30, hadn't shaved, it was Saturday morning, and I was with my parents, and I got carded going into the casino.

Once inside I followed my casino rule; I take out a set amount of cash that I'm prepared to lose, for example $60, and then give my wallet to someone else with the instructions not to give it back to me until we've left, no matter what I may say later.

Since they've put bank machines right into casinos, I have to do this step, otherwise I would clean out my account. I'm the kind of guy who when he's losing, just keeps playings because sooner or later I'm going to win. Which I'm not, but don't try telling me that when I'm in the casino.

I don't even play lotteries anymore. Mind you, I did buy a ticket for the "Millionaire for Life" draw. I broke down, but at least I only bought one ticket. At school, we've been talking about what we would do with the money.

I've ranted and raved about the construction going on that will take us from the little to the big law school on the prairie, but it's provided an interesting option for the winnings. As a means of getting through law school without exams, I've suggested that I'd be prepared to donate some of my winnings to cover the cost of construction in return for a B mark and no exams for my entire run in law school.

UPDATED March 1/07: There will be no automatic Bs in my future as I won nothing on the "millionaire for life".

after the sunset

On the Globe and Mail web site, there is a story discussing how two provisions of the Anti-Terrorism Act will sunset tomorrow as MPs did not vote to continue them.

I find it interesting that the Liberal Party who introduced these provisions while in Government was having a whipped vote against them. I don't know if they are simply trying to differentiate themselves from the Conservatives or they have truly changed their minds.

I understand that they introduced a five-year sunset clause to allow for this exact change, but really the clause was simply to allay the fear of interest groups and not really a principled stand.

One of the reasons I find it interesting is that the Hon. Anne McLellan, the Liberal Minister of Justice and later Minister of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness who introduced the Bill spoke at the little law school on the prairie today. I'd like to give her some credit. I remember her as being quite partisan, but as the vote was taking place in Ottawa, she stood before us here and told us that her party was wrong not to be supporting the provisions.

She also took both the Liberals and Conservatives to task for the rather pathetic show that occurred in the House of Commons last week.

I was impressed with Ms. McLellan today. I have crossed paths with her in two different professional capacities over the past couple of years, when she was Minister of Health, and also when she was Minister of Public Safety, and today as a law professor and guest speaker. Today was the most balanced, interesting presentation I've seen her make. Also, life after politics seems to be treating her well, she looked incredibly well rested, healthy and quite fierce.

i met a cunning linguist

I was at a party Saturday night at a friend's house and met a nice gentlemen. He's smart, witty, has a Masters degree in linguistics and speaks 12 languages. If ever there was a person who could be described as a cunning linguist, I'm sure it's him.

I've always been frustrated by my inability to speak another language. I learned french at school, but didn't start until Grade 6, at which point I was about 12. I think that's just too late. Also we took french for two to three hours per week. At the time, they were just beginning to offer the immersion programs offered at school today.

Two to three hours a week over six school years is not enough to teach a language. When I was asking the CL about his language skills, I discovered that he grew up speaking five languages, three at home, none of which were the official languages of the two countries he lived in while growing up. Hence, five languages.

He said, that once you have learned more than two languages, learning another is inevitable, while if you have only grown up speaking one language, learning another is almost impossible.

I have gone through countless numbers of failed attempts to retain and/or improve my french language skills, but with little success. Short of total immersion, I don't think I will be able to.

In addition to learning more than one language as a young child, I think it takes a certain kind of person to master languages. Up north, I tutored English as a Second Language to an Armenian woman. She learned two languages growing up, Armenian and Russian. Within a year, her English was incredible, through no help of mine. She just took to the language naturally and has set her sights on learning French. What amazed me was how quickly she could think in a different language. That's something my brain can't do. I'm constantly putting thoughts together in English then translating them into French all in my head before saying anything. For some people, they simply can think in another language.

and the oscar goes to...

I've never been a big Oscar fan. I don't do the big Oscar parties or get into Oscar pools on who will win. It's impossible not to be aware of them, but I just don't get wrapped up in them. Part of it may be that over the past few years I haven't had great access to first run movies. At best, I'll watch the pre-show just to see what people are wearing.

I do remember when Oscar made the switch away from winners and losers. Presenters were told not to say "and the winner is", because it made the other nominees seem like losers. They did lose. However, in an effort to making everyone feel good, presenters must say "and the Oscar goes to to".

I haven't seen a lot of this year's movies, but as noted earlier, I did see the Queen, and Helen Mirren's performance was spectacular and I hope she wins the Oscar. Also, I haven't seen the whole movie, but the following clip from Dreamgirls shows why I think Jennifer Hudson should win for this scene alone. I was a fan of hers when she was on American Idol, but in this scene, she tears up the screen. I liked her rendition of the song, but when you see her perform it in the context of the movie, it's even more impressive. The acting and emotion that she puts into the song is just incredible.

an ode to the blog part two

Well I guess I was so enjoying basking in the success of 99 posts to the blog, I actually forgot to blog on Saturday (note as I haven't gone to bed yet, I feel like I should be saying today, but I digress).

The Little Sister asked what have I learned about myself in doing the blog. I've learned that I can cook, that I can dance, that I can skate, I can curl, and that with a little bit of money, I can help improve someone's life.

I've also learned I'm a poet, though I didn't know it. I've learned that the cartoons I saw as a youth had some interesting subtext and helpful content. I've also learned that I have the musical taste of a 12-year-old girl.

When I'm faced with serious problem I can look to a former PM for advice. If I need fashion advice, I can look to the Pope or ask myself, what would Russell do?

I've learned I don't like air travel, and I am resistant to change.

I'm sure there are many other lessons hidden away in the blog, and I can't go through them all, but I look forward to learning more, as the blogging adventure continues.

an ode to the blog

99 entries of stuff on the blog
99 entries of stuff
you take one down, send it around
98 entries of stuff on the blog

In recognizing slightly different milestones, I'm pleased to announce that this is the 99th post to the blog. When I first started this blog, it was partly on a dare. The little sister, aka Little Miss Know-it-All, practically dared me to start a blog.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with it, but thought I would give it a try. I had no idea that in less than three months I would be up to 99 posts, and blogging daily. It's been an interesting journey. Some days I find I blog for myself, other days it's written for my readers. But each day, it doesn't take much to find something to write about.

A big part of the blog has been sharing some guilty pleasures and in a way, the blog itself has become a bit of a guilty pleasure. I get to take a little time each day to indulge and share some of the crazy thoughts going around my head.

I just want to say thanks to all of you who have visited the blog, left comments, or just mentioned to me that you check it out. Like I said, some days it's just for me, but other days it's fun knowing people are reading.

enough is enough

I've had it with Britney Spears and the relentless coverage of her crash and burn. I mean who goes to rehab for a day; well a day here, a day there, maybe a day next week. And why does every blog and newspaper cover every twist and turn. And come to think of it, why can't Britney cover herself? Maybe she has started too, we haven't seen her (rhymes with my capital city) in a while.

I am declaring this blog a Britney-free zone. I couldn't believe that Britney shaving her hair off made the front page of the Globe and Mail. Seriously, is there not more important things going on in the world. The ice caps are melting and people must be surely dying somewhere.

I can understand the fascination with Britney's nose dive, it's like a car crash, you know you're not supposed to look, but you can't help it. Britney is "trailer-trash" that made go, and now people are relishing in her fall. But enough is enough, I'm sure the constant media coverage is fueling the nose dive.

I was never a big britney fan. In the late 90s, when it came to pop music, you were in one of two camps, Britney or Christina, N'sync or Backstreet. I was firmly in the Christina camp, and have stayed there, even through the dirrrty years.

Now Christina is all grown up, wears panties, and has herself a husband who is not a former dancer, and has no aspirations of being a white rapper. He has been described as "a good jewish boy". Good on ya Christina. Her latest album goes back to her greatest strength, her voice, and she works it out old school. The following number just screams Better Midler and I love it.



So remember, this will be a safe, britney-free zone for you to escape from the daily hair-shaving, rehab rollercoaster life of britney, and it's excessive coverage in every media.

the heat is on

No, the weather is not changing here in Saskatchewan. In fact we have a winter storm warning calling for up to 20 cm of snow in the next 24 hours. The weather bulletins have already started, and the media have already begun their little orgy of weather coverage.

But I digress, the heat is on at the little law school on the prairie. With reading week quickly becoming a distant memory, we have realized that there is only six weeks of classes left. In two months time, I will have finished my entire first year of law school. It's hard to believe that it has passed so quickly.

Over the next eight weeks, it is time to buckle down and get through the readings and begin our exam prep. we've got five three-hour finals. One worth 100%, 3 worth 80% and one worth 60%. To that end a group of us is starting weekly review sessions from now to exams.

The good thing is that in just over eight weeks I will be heading off to Calgary and Edmonton for visits, and then back up to the NWT for the summer, back with friends up there.

at the car wash

This isn't a touchless car wash, it's all cleaned by tongue. These pictures were taken by my sister who lives in Calgary. This past weekend her and my Uncle, who was in town for work, went on a road trip to Bannf. I think these photos were taken on the Lake Minnewanka loop.

Big horn sheep appear to like salt and have decided that vehicles visiting the park are now their personal salt licks. Yes, your $30,000 vehicle is simply just a block of salt, and these sheep are more than happy to give your car a free tongue wash. The ability of nature and animals to adapt is really quite remarkable. At what point did they figure out that cars were a convenient source of salt? Also, the fact that they aren't freaked out by the people or cars is really quite something.

Now that they have learned this valuable trick, it's time to pass it along to the next generation. Pictured below, a mother introducing a young sheep to the big grey salt lick.

i need a remedy

I'm not a fan of the medical profession, but when you go more than a year and a half with an undiagnosed illness, that's understandable. It was during this time that I got over the reverance that's bred into us for the medical profession and started to assert myself with doctors.

The first time, I was dealing with an intern who did not believe me when I said that a recoccuring problem I had been having was coming back. Having ended up in the emergency room the time before, I was not prepared to take no for an answer. I refused to leave without a prescription. Now I can understand a doctor being hesitant if I was demanding a prescription for pain killers, but I wanted an antibiotic. Anyways, what he prescribed wasn't enough, didn't work and I simply demanded to see a new doctor a few days later. I told the clinic I wouldn't go back to see the intern. Months, and three doctors later, the problem was finally diagnosed and resolved. Without me pushing, it would probably still be a problem today.

Today, after six visits to the campus clinic, I took on the doctors again. I told the doctor I simply wanted a different form of treatment as I felt the current course was not working. Thankfully he agreed without it resorting to demands of seeing someone else or not leaving the office without a prescription. I should have done this weeks ago.

I'm beginning to realize that we simply need to take charge of our own health care. If we're not getting the treatment we need, we have to stand up for ourselves. No one else will do it for us.

one small step for man...

Today I took my first step onto an ice rink in years. I've been on a curling rink, but not a skating rink. And I haven't been on skates in years.

Inspired by recent games of hockey and thoughts on skating I decided I wanted to at least give skating a try. All I remember about skating is my ankles giving out and falling. Today, I went to an outdoor rink (pictured above) overlooking the river in downtown toon . They offer free use of skates, so it was going to be a cheap experiment.

With the law school BFs by my side, I hit the ice. I'm afraid I may have caused some damage to their hands with the death grip I had going on them. But with their help, I worked my way around and my shuffle was corrected into a push and glide. I was skating! I suddenly felt patriotic.

After a few breaks on some conveniently located benches, and at the prompting of the BFs, I tried skating unaided and made it to the bench. Building on this success, I made it around the rink twice unaided without falling.

Having the sense to quit while I was ahead, I worked my way off the ice and out of my skates. I didn't want to risk spoiling the day's success with a fall.

It went well enough that I want to give it another try. I may never reach the point of being able to play hockey but I hope to be able to at least enjoy skating around the rink.

free drugs

Now that I have your attention, I would like to encourage you to sign a petition calling on the Government of Canada to change Canada’s law on exporting lower-cost medicines to developing countries so that it stands a greater chance of working.

In 2004 the Parliament of Canada unanimously passed legislation that was supposed to facilitate the compulsory licensing of patented medicines so that lower-cost, generic versions could be manufactured and exported to developing countries in need of more affordable drugs to address public health problems, including HIV/AIDS. However, no drugs have yet been exported, in part because of the cumbersome process the legislation puts in place.

Member organizations of the Global Treatment Access Group (GTAG), including the Canadian HIV/AIDS Legal Network, have been advocating on this issue for some time. The federal government has recently completed a period of public consultation about the legislation. All the submissions that were received by the government, including from GTAG and many of its member groups, are now on-line.

I understand that the relevant House of Commons committee will hold 3 days of formal hearings into the legislation in March, where this petition will likely be referenced.

kung hei fat choi

Congratulations and be prosperous, it's Chinese New Year! 2007 is year of the Pig. I was born in the year of the pig. According to chinese astrology, to bear children in the year of the pig is considered very fortunate, for they will be happy and honest.

Here's a description of people born in the year of the pig. You can decide whether or not I fit the profile, but there's some definite matches:

According to customary superstition, the Pig type is usually an honest, straightforward and patient person. They are a modest, shy character who prefers to work quietly behind the scenes. When others despair, they are often there to offer support. This type of person is reserved with those they do not know too well, but as time passes and they gain confidence, those around them may discover a lively and warm-hearted person behind that mask of aloofness. Despite those born in the year of pig having a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, they have few close friends who understand them and share their inner thoughts and feelings. It is easy to put trust in pig type; they won't let you down and will never even attempt to do so. Such people simply want to do everything right according to social norms.

Also according to customary superstition, that these people are not vengeful creatures. If someone tries to take advantage of them, the pig type tend to withdraw to reflect on the problem and protect themselves. All they need in such situations is a little time to find a constructive way to respond. The people of the pig type are conservative creatures of habit. They dislike being made to travel too far from familiar surroundings, unless it is a trip to the countryside. They love nature and are never happier than when they are out somewhere, far from the city.

There is a tolerant and peaceful side to the character of Pig types. Such people are never afraid to allow others their freedom of expression; they do not want to cause arguments and if there is any way to avoid arguing, they will probably take this option. They are not weak, however, and if the situation forces them to fight these people will rise to the occasion, whether it is to defend themselves or those close to them. People of the Boar type are the most admired by others.

that's a load of crock

In a 1970s flashback, dinner has been been cooking away all day today in a crock pot.

Yes, I'm now a slow cooker.

I had forgotten about crock pots until a couple of weeks ago. After our last curling game, we had a great dinner from a crock pot and I thought what a great tool. Throw everything in, and let it cook all day.

I thought it would be an easy way to make some meals. The big problem is, I've never been married,and that's usually the only way you end up with one. It's the quintessential wedding present. I mentioned this to the Saskatoon Uncles (editor's note: name updated at their request) and they had a crock pot they haven't used in years and said I could use it.

Anyways, today's test is a beef and sweet potato stew with onions and bacons. A meal today and then leftovers for the week. Hopefully I can do this once or twice a week.

But don't let the idea of easy slow cooking fool you. I'm discovering that it's not as easy as I thought. It takes time, planning and preparation. You have to get all the ingredients together, chop them up and do all the prep. Then the easy part kicks in. It's sit back and wait.

It's a great concept in theory, and pretty soon I should know how it works in practice.

we live in an age of idols

I arrived back in 'toon town today to a woman holding a "Canadian Idol" sign in the arrivals area of the airport. As much as I was tempted, I chose not to walk up to the woman and say "I'm the Canadian Idol".

Works out Canadian Idol is doing their auditions in 'toon town this weekend. I also caught an episode of American Idol this week and began to realize there are idols all around us.

The current "idol" phenomenon began in the United Kingdom. It was called "Pop Idol". With the popularity of the show in America it appears they gave up the name and have switched to the show "X-Factor" which has a few slight variations, but essentially the same format.

The very first winner of Pop Idol was a young man named Will Young. He has gone on to have several albums in England, and won numerous awards and sold out Wembley Arena. He never broke in the States, but that's probably because he was openly gay in the competition. It seems the UK is more accepting of gay pop stars than North America.

Anyways, here's a clip of Will Young covering the Steven Sills song "Love the one you're with" at the Prince's Trust 30th Anniversary concert. I thought it was fitting because it has been a couple of weeks without brit pop, which is just too long.

vacation all I ever wanted

A little shout-out to the go-go's with today's post. Appears that I have been mishearing the lyrics for roughly 20 years. I always thought it went "vacation's over", who knew it was "vacation all I ever"? The point, my vacation is now over.

That meant more flying today. Once again it was a little adventure, but enough dumping on air canada. In today's sights, my fellow passengers.

Do you remember when air travel was a big deal? When the company called their planes Airbuses, they hit the nail on the head. Air travel used to be special, now it's the equivalent of riding the bus.

People used to get dressed up when they flew; not any more. I am loathe to offer fashion advice, but really if you are over six years of age, you should not wear pyjamas in public, let alone on a plane. I don't care that the flight was leaving at 6:30 am. If I could get up and put on a shirt and some pants, then you can too. For god's sake people, COME ON. I understand wanting to be comfortable, but pyjamas? Just say NO to PJs.

Also, you think there would be some understanding that we're all in this together, stuck in these uncomfortable seats, with fewer and fewer services to make the experience enjoyable. At least be civil to each other.

For some reason, there's always those one or two idiots who for some reason are convinced they are special and better then everyone else. The fact that they aren't flying around in their own jet, but sitting in coach, is evidence of the world's injustice against them. I get it, now get over yourself! You're in coach, we're all here together, and no the flight attendant can't make the plane go faster, get your off the plane quicker, or hold two other planes for you.

As is plainly obvious by now, I am not a fan of air travel. I wish we had high speed trains in this country. If it didn't take days to get somewhere by train, I would always choose it. For now anyways, it looks like I won't be doing any big trips on planes for a few months, and I look forward to driving anywhere I need to go.

lost in the ether

Hmmm, seems like Friday's blog entry didn't quite make it to the site. Must have been a problem with the email. I don't have a copy of it, but in a nutshell it was called a paradise lost.

Works out that my brother heard back from the agent he contacted about the property (see below). There's an offer in, but it hasn't closed. He wanted to know whether we wanted to try to get in now. We said no, we weren't getting into a bidding war on a property we don't know enough about.

Anyways, land ownership is on hold for now. The agent has agreed to send along any other listings similar to that one, so it's back to wait and see. It'll happen if it is meant to.

must love dogs

I'm a dog person, and I'm sure any of my friends would tell you that. I go nuts over their dogs. And most of the time, dogs go nuts over me. I think dogs just know when they see me, that I'm a dog person.

It's been several years now that I haven't had a dog, but thankfully I have great friends with great dogs where I can get dog doses. I'm always amazed by the reaction I get from my brother's dog. His retriever goes insane whenever I'm around. I think it's because I look and sound like my brother, but am nicer. It's also possible that when I first met Farley, I had a dog of my own, so I equal dog to play with.

I went to the seniors' home where my grandmother lives and their are two dogs there everyday. It was an instant connection and one of them, Tess started to follow me everywhere. It was funny because I was told she was the less friendly one.

Today, I was sorting pictures with my grandmother. Old black and white and sepia ones. I wanted to label all the photos while my grandmother could still tell me who everyone was. One of the most remarkable things about the photos is that it seems my love of dogs comes naturally.

There are countless photos of my Great-Grandmother (who I never had the chance to meet), and in every single picture but one, she has a dog in her hands. There may be kids sitting the grass, but there's a dog in her hands. There was quite a few different dogs over the years, but you could tell each one had worked its way into the place of honour.

My Grandfather, (the son of my Great-Grandmother) is also surrounded by dogs in picutures. Works out he always had some dogs around. For a while he had several dalmations, which I never knew about but found some pictures off. Two pictures in comparison are quite funny, my grandfather and nana are pictured as husband and wife, well-coiffed, well-dressed with a dalmation at their feet. The next photo taken some time later, has them not so well-coiffed, not so-well dressed, and holding my mother as a baby. I guess having a child, really does change your life.

As we went through photos we came across the dogs I remembered. Maggie, my grandparents' and then our dog (she lived 17 years) was prominent. The things we did to her as kids. There is one photo of her in my grandmother's nice hat, and another with the dog in a pull-over-the-head lifejacket, sitting on a raft being pushed out by my brother and I, yet that dog still followed us everywhere.

Anyways, here's looking forward to the days when I will have my own dogs again. Until then, I get to spoil all my friends' dogs.

wait for five minutes and it's sure to change

About the only thing that can rival Canadians' national obsession with hockey, is their obsession with the weather. Wander into any conversation in Canada and you are sure to hear talk about the weather. Need to fill an awkward silence in a conversation, throw out a "how 'bout this weather we've been having?" and the conversation springs to life.

A local television station in Toronto (where the news is presented in HD for some reason) has gone crazy with weather coverage. The local weather guy appears to be presenting the weather from the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. There's six touch screens behind him with all sorts of maps and statistics. Brand new this week, were 11 weather stations across the GTA. No more simply what the weather is at the airport, there are now 11 different weather measuring stations. It takes an additional 10 minutes to get through the weather now.

In the GTA, people's perception of the weather has shifted. A winter storm has hit, and weather coverage of the storm, which at the time was still 24 hours away dominated the news coverage. Statements like "it's frigid out there" and "welcome to winter" were everywhere. Seriously, it's -11 and snowing, this is fabulous weather in half of Canada, but here it's a storm. Serious wind chills were also reported, however, it was only -20 with the wind chill. I don't know whether it's because of living in the Northwest Territories and Saskatchewan, but come on people, this isn't cold. When it's -30 and -40 with the wind chill, that's frigid.

I think part of the freak out people have about winter storms can be blamed on the media. They whip everyone up into a frenzy before the storm has even hit. They are all competing for who can have the best storm coverage and the storm hasn't even begun. Once it has hit, it's embarrassing, this poor weather reporter (yes, she only reports on the weather) was out and the anchor made her measure the snow that had fallen with a ruler, she's like well it's not quite 5 cm yet, but really there's more to come.

As a result of the panic, school boards were cancelling classes before snow even began to fall. It's crazy. For years, we functioned in winter without problems. Now, the entire city shuts down at the first sight of snow, it's like we were Vancouver, not Toronto.

they say a man's home is his castle

But even if it looks like this? In an earlier post, I mentioned my brother and I are talking about buying property. Well, this lovely building is part of the property. In the ad for the property it mentions that the the "house on the lot is of no value". Well, duh.

It's the property and not the house that interests us the most. It's 12.37 acres located on top of the bruce escarpment, overlooking Georgian and Colpoy's Bays. It's about 20 minutes or so from where our Grandmother's cottage was. The property is on a dead-end road so there are no neighbours, and is located right beside a 455 hectare conservation management area, so no developement. To get a sense as to where it is located, look for number 60 on the map below, that's the management area the land is beside.


It's not waterfront property, but the problem with waterfront in Ontario is it is crowded, you probably have a 90' foot, with neighbours on both sides. Add in sea-doos, children and powerboats and there is no quiet.

The biggest selling feature for us of this property, is the seclusion. The plan, if bought, would be to tear down the house, and build a series of small one-room cabins connected by a boardwalk. One cabin a kitchen/living space that would be insulated for year-round use, and several others as storage and bunkhouses.

There's lots of questions remaining, and what my share would be given my use will be limited, but it would be nice to have a bit of retreat when I come home for visits.

he ain't heavy, he's my brother

The last couple of trips home have been quite interesting as I have noticed a significant change in my relationship with my brother. We've always been friendly as siblings, but I wouldn't have classified us as close. This seems to be changing.

 

It's weird, but good. Now we hang out. All of sudden I'll look around and I'll realize it's just me and him doing something. No kids, wife or parents, just me and him. We're talking, hanging out, shopping, whatever, but it's just us.

 

I think part of it is that we have both grown older and more mature. And I've grown to be more like him, physically and mentally. First off, we look more and more alike as we get older. At my nephew's hockey game, there was no need for introductions, everyone could tell we were brothers. Our interests are also converging. We talk about camping and fishing, and compare gear, etc. Also, neither of us has patience for the morons the world puts around us (actually I have more patience than him, but we both get outraged easily).

 

At one point today, as we walked through this massive outdoors store and I mentioned I may get my firearms license (just for protection from bears), he looked at me and said, "who are you and what have you done with my brother. Never mind, I like you better." It was actually quite funny, which is how he intended it, but I can also say it's a little true. When we were younger, we had nothing in common. Now we talk about buying land together. It's a long way from beating each other up as kids.

my boy's gonna play in the big leagues

It's been an all hockey, all the time weekend. I went to my nephew's game yesterday where his team clinched the league championship. His team is named after the Toronto Maple Leafs, and unfortunately that's probably the only championship we will see the Leafs winning any time soon.

Today, it was an OHL game, the Brampton Battalion were playing. Our Prime
Minister was seen dropping the puck at the World Pond Hockey Championships this weekend, and the NHL schedule was full.

I've never understood the rapt fascination that Canadians have with the game of hockey, sorry make that "our" game of hockey. Sure, when I lived in Toronto, you get wrapped up in the playoffs, and I'm sure that when the playoffs were on, if you had cut me, I would have bled blue. However, I never had the sense that hockey was at the core of my being.

In fact our obsession with hockey can be silly; our national pride does not
ride on the nation's accomplishments, but on the actions of a few well-paid, over-indulged hockey players during the Olympics and World Cup. The country is crushed if they don't come back with gold. They come home with bronze or no medal and it calls for national soul-searching as to what's wrong with hockey in our country.

There are some interesting benefits to this national obsession. My hometown, Brampton, has quickly become one of the most multicultural cities in Canada. And my nephew's hockey league reflects this. In fact, the team captain's family heritage is only or two generations from India. The ice rink is like a little united nations. Hockey may prove to be the integrater of society.

Maybe the lack of hockey at my core resulted from not playing . I played
street hockey (CARRRR) as a kid, but never made it on to the ice. The reason, I'm a Canadian who can't skate. Yes, we are a rare breed, but we do exist. It's considered a disability in this country but we soldier on and survive, coming up with other excuses for not hitting the rink so as not to reveal our secret. As a result, we will always be on the outside looking in at our country's most popular game.

have bodum will travel

You know you have a coffee addiction when you travel with your coffee maker.

When I was home at Christmas making coffee was a production. My parents
drink tea, so if I want coffee, I need to get the big coffeemaker out, filters etc, find a few free square inches on the countertop and try not to make a whole pot. I resorted to making instant coffee.

This time I got smart; I remembered the Saskatoon Dads talking about having to take a coffee press with them the next they visited parents, so I packed my Bodum Coffee Press. It's quick, simple, and I can make as much as I want. It's perfect. Mixed with a little bailey's and it it home sweet home.

i'm stuck on a carousel that won't go round

For those that remembered my last trip to Toronto (see December 29, 2006
post) this all may seem familiar.

Another holiday, another trip to Toronto. I hate air travel. The flight
itself was not too bad today, actually saw the movie "The Queen" and it was
brilliant. Helen Mirren deserves all the awards she's been winning. Anyways,
back on to the story.

The flight was relatively uneventful, and the parental unit and I had
confirmed we would go back to the old system of calling once I was off the
plane for them to come get me. We land, we get to the gate, I get off the
plane and call Mom, "come get me, I've landed". Forty-five minutes later I
finally make it outside to hop into the van.

Once again it was the bag. First off they were already a flight behind on
our carousel. Teasingly the carousel went round and round with bags on it
for 10 minutes. Then it stopped. Ten minutes later, it starts and look it's
Saskatoon bags, about five bags come off and the carousel stops. It was
jammed, again. My God, I'm beginning to think it's me. About 20 minutes
later it finally starts working again.

What I particularly love is the complete lack of announcements. Our flight
was removed from the list on the carousel and replaced by others. Should we
switch? No, it must be on some clock that removes it once the bags should
have been off. No announcement. Once it was jammed, no annoucement to let us
know it's broken, and that they are trying to fix it. I had to go ask, and
am afraid I dropped the f-bomb.

My parents spent 25 minutes circling at the airport, so none of us were in a
great mood at this point. Thank goodness for Swiss Chalet. A quick trip
there and all was right in the world.

there's a ho down on the dance floor

Well I just got in from my last night in Saskatoon before it's off to Toronto. I spent the night at the Longbranch, a country bar. Yes, me in a country bar, and I even lined up outside in -30 weather for a country bar. Worst of all, I had a great time. And I drank Budweiser.

The place was packed with plenty of eye candy. Note to self: need to buy plaid cowboy shirt. The music never stopped and the dance floor was packed. These guys from the prairies sure know how to dance. They are two-steppin' machines. They twirl the girls like crazy. I have to tell you, it was like murder on the dance floor. The way those bodies were flailing and feet were steppin', somebody was going to get hurt.

Anyways, some of us from school have decided we have to go back for some proper two-step lessons so we can fit in. It seems only right, I went to the the University of Waterloo, home of Octoberfest in Canada, and learned the polka. At the University of Saskatchewan, I have to learn how to two-step. Forget this law stuff, it's all about learning the dance moves.

Kudos to LG for the clever name of this post, it was a text message he sent tonight when he found out I was in a country bar.

blogger on the run

I'm heading home to Toronto for reading week so I wanted to test out my
mobile blogging skills. If this works then I hope to keep blogging while I am away. I may not have quite the same frequency as when I'm in school but it won't be the one week downtime like the last time I was away.

"i'm simply aware i'm hard to resist"

I'm not sure what triggered it, but lately I've been thinking a lot about Elvis. He is one of those figures that just seems to have loomed over various parts of my life for years.

Like many others, my Mom is a huge Elvis fan. She was young when he first broke it big and she actually saw him live in concert at Maple Leaf Gardens. Over the years Elvis was always played in our house, whether it be on 78s, 8-tracks, 45s, records, cassettes or CDs. It's officially not Christmas until the Elvis Christmas CD is played and I hear "I'll have a blue, blue christmas without you".

In our basement which still maintains its' 70s wood-paneled charm, we have a bar and all the adornments that go with it, including a framed mirror with a picture of Elvis in Hawaii on it. It's this picture right here.

When I was six years old we took a trip to Quebec City as a family. It was August. I can be specific about the time because for the next 25 years my strongest memory of Quebec City was that Elvis died while we were there.

My sister was the only person with knowledge of french, and my mom, noticing Elvis all over the front pages asked my sister what it said. My sister hesitantly said that the papers were saying Elvis was dead. My Mom was sure she was wrong, until we got it confirmed. I remember my Mom being sad.

Aside from being scared out of my wits on the ferry, and some bread baked in an oven on the side of Mont-Ste-Anne, that's all I remembered about Quebec City.

In University a road trip to Graceland unfortunately fell apart, but maybe this time around I'll make it there. It seems like it's something that needs to be done.

As a result of all this Elvis exposure, I'm a fan. I like Elvis' music, and most of his movies, but the stand out from the films for me was "Viva Las Vegas". It's like one big cartoon. The movie is just great fun. And Ann-Margret - wow! Those legs just go on forever.

It was hard to pick a favorite clip from the movie, but I think this number is probably it. I love the back and forth between them, I think the song is quite witty, and they both deliver it perfectly:

ring the alarm, i been through this too long...

Another eventful day here at the little law school on the prairie; if we're not writing exams among the tractors, we're holding tutorials in the hall ways.

Attending school next door to a construction site has its advantages (which I will save for another post) but it also has significant disadvantages. This morning I had a charter law tutorial at 8:30 am. These are small group discussions with the professor to review what we have been learning.

After 25 minutes of speaking above the sound of jackhammers and steel saws, the fire alarm went off. Like what any sleep-deprived reasonable person would do, we all looked from each other to the fire alarm and back to each other with no one making any move for the door. "The jackhammers set it off" was the consensus. That was until we could smell the smoke, know noise, dust and the odd floor shaking is common place with the construction, but when there's smoke there's fire.

We gather our things and head for the exit. We're told we have to go right outside, where it's -30C , and oh, by the way, you can't go down to the lockers to get your coats. Once outside, it was proclaimed, "This is not a test, there is smoke in the library, and we don't know when we can go back in."

We shuffled down to Commerce (the other end of our building) and went inside to get warm. At this point, our professor saw us standing around took us down to the end of the hallway and continued the tutorial. It was all very "british stiff upper lip".

Certainly the law school can not complain that as a first year class we are not flexible and accommodating.

to dye or not to dye, part two

A not-so anonymous poster placed a comment in response to my post on going grey. The comment essentially is what would russell do?

A brilliant thought I had not yet had. I marched off to my bookshelf and pulled out Russell's book "Men's Style - the thinking man's guide to dress" to find out. (BTW Russell, notice the repeated plugs for the book, I could use some swag in return)

Chapter 12 - Hair. I will save you Russell's take on the mullet, and just note that he is in favour of the traditional standbys when it comes to choosing a hair cut. Hmmmm, this isn't helping yet. But wait, the next section is Colour. I sense an answer coming.

There is nothing unmanly about wildly dyed hair - as long as it's obviously fake. Paradoxically, it's the dye job that aims at looking natural that tends to make men squirm. We can joke about where we get our tips bleached yellow, but we probably won't joke about our normal-looking dark brown hair if we are hiding the dark secret that its true colour is grey. It's the kind of thing we will whisper about others ("Do you think he dyes his hair?") rather than boast about ourselves.

And yet men are hesitating less and less about getting natural-looking dye jobs, just as women always have.Why not? If the technology is available to make you look ten years younger, then you should have no fear in indulging it.

I could go on as Russell debates the merits of D-I-Y kits and the salon. But his general conclusion is that it's better to go wacky and different and fashionable, then try to match your natural colour.

Judging by the comments and Russell's advice, it appears I'm going to go grey gracefully.

little law school on the prairie

"Lawyers around the world are known for their sense of humour."

I'm beginning to realize there is enough fodder here at the little law school on the prairie to give the CBC's much hyped Little Mosque on the Prairie a run for its money.

Today at the LLSOTP, we got news as to the location of our April exams. These are the exams that will determine a good chunk of our law school career, we have one exam worth 100% of our mark, three exams worth 80% of our mark, and one exam worth 60% of our mark.

To provide the best forum possible for us to write our exams, the LLSOTP has informed us that we will be writing our exams in the Tractor Lab, located in the Engineering Building.

Now you have to understand this is no clever play on words. From what I understand, the Tractor Lab is exactly as it sounds, a tractor lab.

If they hadn't told us it was in the Engineering Building, I swear I would have thought we were writing our exams in one of the barns that remain on the campus.

The following description was provided to us by the Associate Dean:

We have arranged for space elsewhere on campus, where it will be just law students, with tables, and with law faculty invigilators. The main location will be the Tractor Lab in the Engineering building (no – this isn’t a joke we forgot to use in the faculty skit at Follies – it is a real location and seems suitable, the occasional tractor in the corner notwithstanding).

Folks, I couldn't make these things up if I tried.

to dye or not to dye, that is the question...

I don't know if it's because of a recent hair cut, but a lot of people have been commenting on a noticeable increase of gray hair on my head. It may also be because I'm surrounded by a bunch of 22 year-olds who still haven't seen their first gray hair.

I started going gray about 10 to 12 years ago. All of a sudden a few appeared and then the process just seemed to stop. I think it was when I was in University last time that they started to appear. My hair is lighter anyways so it tends not to be noticeable in small doses.

However, the last year or so has seen a noticeable increase in the gray hair. It's no longer a few stray strands at my temples, it slowly moved around the sides and back of my head. More recently, they have migrated to the top.

A critical mass of gray hair that will force me to answer the question, "to dye or not to dye?" is rapidly approaching.

I've always liked the look of grey hair, and at times thought it would be great for my hair just to go all gray. I even looked into dying it gray, but it's not really possible. However, now faced with a growing number, my resolve to stay gray is weakening.

True, there are several benefits to gray that way in its favour. Anderson Cooper (aged 39) has been gray for years and wears it well. As a lawyer, I think gray hair can make me look smarter and more distinguished, both good things considering how little I actually seem to know about the law.

However, surrounded by youth, it is tempting to wash that gray right out of my hair. I've always had a bit of a babyface, and thanks to my nana, have good skin and can usually pass for younger than I am. In fact, most people at school have been surprised when they learn my true age. More gray and that's going to be harder to pull off. Dyed though, and I can still probably pass for younger than I actually am.

It's a tough call, and I'm not at the point of making a final decision yet; I'll need to wait for some more gray before that point hits. However, right now I am leaning to stay gray.

lord denning still rocks

It was back to the ice today for the second week of campus rec curling. Once again we were playing people who knew how to slide, but they were down a man so we thought we had a chance. They started with the hammer, but we stole one and was off to a great start. In the next end they took one, and then stole four against us in the next end.

They took two more and then we mounted our comeback, with four in the fifth end and a steal of one in the sixth, we ended up scoring a respectable 6, to lose by one.

No dramatic falls today, tried a different sweeping broom and that seems to have made a difference. Jana's miracle shot has been rechristened as jana's curling magic as she had a couple more of them today, and was working her voodoo on our shots as well.

Just goes to show you, sometimes it's better to be lucky than good.

this is just wrong

Not even my much maligned love of british campy pop can save this one, it's just wrong. Comic relief is a large charity in England that puts on a show each year. In advance of the show, a single is released. Usually a cover song recorded by a british pop group. This year the single is a cover of the Aerosmith/Run DMC song "Walk this Way".

Singing the song is Girls Aloud (a spice girls knock-off) and Sugababes (a destiny's child knock-off) who are both very popular in England. However, this time, it just didn't work:

downs, leathers and furs, oh my

I had a few errands to run today so I decided I would just hit the local stores and walk. I then realized it was -25/-35 with the wind chill. Determined to walk, I broke out the down parka for the first time this winter, put in on, and went along on my merry way.

As I was walking along in my toasty down warmness, I got to thinking. While I was living in Northern Canada, I bought some fur (wolf I believe) and one of the yellowknife moms sewed it on to the hood of my parka. This is how a politically correct MEC parka becomes not so-politically correct. The thoughts of how fur being incorrect and the activists turned my mind to leather as I looked down at my boots.

One of the constant criticisms yelled back at activists, whether they be anti-fur or pro-vegan, is the hypocrisy when they wear leather, for example their birkenstocks. Now I recognize, not all of them do, but it is an interesting question for those who do.

This got me thinking back to my down parka, maybe it wasn't so politically correct to begin with. Is there 'say no to down' movement? Do anti-fur activists oppose down? Wouldn't the argument be the same?

What about down parkas, vests, comforters, feather beds, etc? Where are the protesters trying to save the birds' feathers.

Intrigued, I wondered how down was collected and what happened with it. I found the following information on answers.com.

Down can be collected in a variety of ways. Birds which provide the feathers may be used for other purposes, for example to provide meat. Some birds are killed solely for their down, while some birds (particularly some geese) are periodically live-plucked of their breast feathers. Some birds line their nests with down, and such down might be harvested safely after the young leave the nest.

Am I now going to have to buy free-range down feathers? Must my pillows be certified "collected from an empty nest". Where will we draw the line on what is the appropriate use of animal products?

As I wear my fur-trimmed down parka and leather boots on my walk to a restaurant for a steak dinner, to come back home to my down comforter, I realize I may not be the best person to answer this question.

it's like apples and crabapples

This is my newest source of distraction. I actually found cutewithchris.com a few months ago but got wrapped up in writing this blog and hadn't been back in quite some time. In looking for time wasters and distractions, I remembered cute with chris and went back. In minutes, I was in hysterics.

Chris Leavins is a Canadian actor who now appears to be living in LA. He produces this internet show twice a week. The show is mainly focused on cute critters and Chris' comedy. It's absolutely hilarious. Each episode there is a cutedown where people get to vote on which critter is cuter.

The following episode was one of the funniest. It appears Chris recently returned to Canada for a visit, and in this show explains in a cutewithchris.com style, the difference between Canada and the United States. Enjoy.



Chris also has a blog that accompanies the show and a link has been added in the blogs I read section.

now this seems fair...

This is a picture of one of the members of the first all-female United Nations peacekeeper force. The entire unit is made up of female police officers from India. Read the BBC report here.

You may remember my rant about the conditions of the female riot police officers. Look at the difference between the photos. These peace keepers are going into a dangerous situation in Liberia. Good on India, these women have pants, combat boots and guns even. This to me, seems fair.

people who live in glass houses...

A certain Little Miss Know-it-All has decided to move past her usual critiques of grammar and journalism and sit in judgment of my aural pleasures.

I'm certain her faithful readers will remember the outrage she expressed when a certain fashion guru (the dapper Russell Smith) moved from critiquing fashion to critiquing language. Hmmmm, maybe she should think of that before she moves into a brave new world of music selection criticism. I'm sure she'll make some comment about Russell being wrong, and therefore she had to criticize, while she is right in her concern over my musical tastes.

However, in responding to the spirited defence of my musical taste left in response on her blog, she came clean on her recently played list, and sit back, let's just say that we still have a lot of the same taste. In response, I simply say, take me to your glass home...

guilty pleasure #9

As a follow up to the recent post that featured Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again", I've been thinking about how much I enjoyed those great power ballads of the 80s and the 90s. There doesn't seem to be the same popularity of power ballads in music today which is too bad.

The songs, epic in their scope, with their raspy vocals and long and loud guitar chords provide great fodder for videos. Women in white dresses running down hallways, mythical creatures, longing looks at the camera, sheer brilliance. And don't forget about the big hair.

The following is one of my favourites. I'm a Nancy Wilson and Heart fan. i think her voice is incredible. Plus it was great seeing women who really just rocked.