how do you like your plane...big or small?

I'm flying again, moving progressively farther west and north. While doing the puddle jumper flight from Regina to Calgary this morning I was thinking about people's preferences when it comes to plane size. Now I know some of you may say that it's not the size of the plane that matters but where it's going. However, I for one think size matters. When it comes to my planes, I like them small.

I've flown in planes of all sizes, from a two-seater to massive jumbo jets. Hell, I even put my life at risk and flew Aeroflot (affectionately known as Aeroflop). Without roads, small planes are the main source of transportation north of 60, so I've spent a lot of time in them. In a small plane, you hear all the noise, feel all the bumps and are crammed in, but at least you know you are flying. Also for a number of irrational, incorrect and mildly insensitive reasons, I feel safer in a small plane. Let's consider:

• Ground control: in small planes, you can usually see the ground. Even if it's cloudy, you know you're closer to it than you are at 30,000 feet. Closer to the ground, means less distance to fall (I told you these were irrational)
• Glider Effect: a big plane is a whole lot of metal. A small plane weighs a lot less. Combine this with being closer to the ground, and a small plane can glide safely to the ground (see above for how it's closer to the ground allowing it to do this) while a big plane will likely just plummet straight down, damn gravity.
  
• Terrorists: think about it, terrorists don't blow up small planes:, they go for the biggest bang (literally). If I think of all the big terrorist attacks on airplanes, they have usually been big planes.
• Hijackers: (see terrorists above) Once again, big plane with lots of people. Small plane, not enough passengers for adequate leverage.
• Personal Touch: In a small plane you often see the captain and co-captain, many times they are the only crew on board. I'm convinced this personal interaction makes us safer. They know who their passengers are, we've chatted, made some jokes, shared a granola bar. Because we've interacted they now have a personal vested interest in getting me there safely.
  

So yes, a small plane may not take you as far, or may take longer to get there, but in my view it will always get you there safely.

PS - given I spend a lot of time in small planes, please don't shatter the illusion by pointing out the irrationality of these reasons.

mandatory shutdown

Hey everyone, I'm into exams so there will be no blogging until the end of the month at which point I should be back north of 60 for the summer. Hopefully I'll be better at blogging over the summer than I was last year.

back to normal

The month of February was insane. I am (I guess technically "was" now) on one of the moot teams for the little law school on the prairie. This moot took control over my life. Essentially four of us flew to Toronto to argue an appeal of a case in front of real judges from across Canada.

Being competitive, and wanting to avoid humiliation, we all worked our assess off before heading to Toronto this past weekend. We left last Thursday, and I just got back today, hence the absence of blogging for the past week.

It was a great experience, one I would do again, and one I would recommend to others. The only problem is now that I am behind in all my other classes, and will probably need to work as hard for the next couple of weeks just to try to get through the rest of this term.

The moot itself was great. We argued in historic courtrooms, normally used by the Ontario Court of Appeal, in Osgoode Hall. Our jobs were really good, asking enough questions for us to display our skill in answering them, but also giving us the time to make our argument. It appears I am "unruffable".

It's nice to have a confirmation, that doing this law school thing is the right thing. When I finished my arguments, I knew it's what I wanted to do for the next years of my life.

memo to parents

I'm sitting in a Starbucks doing some schoolwork. I'm not at home to avoid the noise of renovation taking place on the other side of my wall. I don't expect quiet while working at Starbucks. In fact I find the general din of conversations and baristas yelling out orders comforting and quite conducive to work.

However, there are limits. I understand that most parents work full-time and therefore don't get to spend as much time with their children as they would like. On weekends, they want to spend as much time as possible with them. I get that. I don't mind you bringing your very young children and infants to Starbucks when you want a coffee. That's cool. What I do ask, is that you do not bring toys that make noise. Is it too much to ask that you consider the perspective and desires of those of us without children who don't want to be subjected to their toys making noise.

I understand the need to bring toys to keep them happy and avoid your child having a meltdown in the middle of Starbucks. Just bring their favourite stuffed toy. There is no reason to bring a toy that broadcasts across the entire cafe. I could even hear it while I was in the washroom.

So to the parents behind me who seem to be clueless to the rest of the world around then, a withering look of disapproval(tm) goes your way.

it's only fair

A little piece of me is dying inside while I write this post, but I figure it's only fair that I write it. Brace yourselves folks, I'm about to write something nice about Air Canada.

Like most Canadians, I have a love/hate relationship with Air Canada. Okay, most Canadians just have a hate relationship with Air Canada, but I must admit mine is more love/hate.

There are times that I actually do love Air Canada. For example, the fact they offer direct flights. From the middle of the prairie, to get to the parental units, I have to fly west first, then retrace my steps back east if I fly Westjet. Hmmm, maybe that's why they call it Westjet.

I hate the forced frivolity that accompanies a Westjet flight, and love the cool, detached almost snoblike service on Air Canada. I love Aeroplan. Unlike others, I've had a handful of Aeroplan flights, including first class which have been great.

Most of my complaints with Air Canada are related to activities on the ground. Such was how the latest go round began. My trip to Toronto for a national mooting competition got mixed up and had me leaving 12 hours early, smack in the middle of a night class. I wanted to change my flight so I wouldn't miss class, and also have the chance to fly out with everyone else.

Unfortunately, as the flights were booked for us, I didn't have the original credit card information so I had to make changes over the phone and not online. I called once, waited almost half an hour to find out fares had gone up, and it would cost close to $200 more with the new fare and change fees. Not only is there a $40 change fee, but also a $25 fee to talk to a person. I hung up.

Anyways, I waited for a seat sale and one came up yesterday. A lower fare was available on the flight I wanted. I called once, was told to expect a 30 minute wait and hung up. Called again a while later and was told to expect a 45 minute wait; hung up. Waited a little longer, called and was told to expect a 30 minute wait; I stayed on the line.

After 70 minutes on hold, hearing the same ads repeat every four minutes, I was less than impressed when I finally got a person. I gave my confirmation number and told her I needed to change my seat after pointing out I had been on hold for 70 minutes. In fact, she corrected this and told me it was exactly 76 minutes. Not off to a great start.

So she proceeds to tell me that my booking was a web booking and I could save the $25 fee if I made the change on the web site. What a revelation! I explained again that if I could have done that I would have, and wouldn't have had to spend 76 minutes on hold. I explained to her that I didn't have a problem paying $25 to speak to a person, but I did have a HUGE problem, paying $25 to speak to a person after waiting 76 minutes.

After an explanation of a snow storm in Toronto, and all flights being cancelled, I was like "whatever" just change my flight. I decided that rather than asking to speak to a manager, I would just start drafting emails that would be sent to every Air Canada email address I could find and complain after the fact.

So this Air Canada agent, a french woman, stunned me in the end. She changed my flight, did advance seat selection and informed me that she would not charge me the $25 fee to speak to a person. What? Really? Without even throwing a full-scale fit? What's up with that? Nice way to steal my thunder. I said "thank you, I appreciate that," and began deleting the draft email I was furiously typing away to good ol' Robbie Milton.

So Air Canada, you have a good, smart customer service agent with an actual talent for customer service; I have to give you credit for that. We all know that if that hadn't happened, there would have been a scathing entry about Air Canada on the blog today. It's only fair that I share the good along with the bad. This time you've spared yourself from a withering look of disapproval(tm).

great expectations

This is truly blogging on the run, well blogging on the rails anyways. I'm currently riding viarail from Toronto to Ottawa to see a friend from up north who moved to the nation's capital.

I'm a little less than impressed with my train voyage so far. I started this morning in my hometown in the suburbs outside of Toronto. The plan was to catch via in the hometown, switch trains in Toronto and then off to Ottawa. With all of the advertising via has done about how taking the train is the human(e) way to travel, I think my expectations had been raised beyond via's ability to meet them.

I expected something different than you typical voyage on Canada's national airline or that other perky airline. First off, via is "arrive 30 minutes before" or "one hour before" if you want to check baggage. Ok this is a little better than the airlines, but not much.

As I arrived the requisite amount of time in advance, I'm then told the train is running 20 minutes late. It ended up being 30 minutes late. The reason for these delays, "A large number of passengers and bags". Maybe via's advertising has been too successful and they can't meet the demand they have created.

Unfortunately, although I was continuing on to Ottawa on the same train we had to get off and reboard the train (although we were allowed to leave our luggage). I took a short stroll around union station only to find that the lineup to board my train ran the full length of the departure area, up the ramp and into the main part of the station. Some of these people had to be lined up at least an hour before the train was scheduled to leave. It's beginning to seem a lot like an airport.

I can't understand the rush, people have assigned seats, there's no advantage to standing in line. Speaking of seats, my window seats selected in advance were changed with no notice by via when I picked up my tickets.

Finally, all those annoying people who I thought only flew, appear also to take the train. Such as the a-hole in 11C who has his chair reclined to the point where his head is in my lap, or the person who broke out a harvey's meal right beside. Both were victims of the withering look of disapproval(tm).

Maybe via is a more human way to travel, but the problem is that it still includes other humans. I don't think I'm cut out for mass transit.

getting my brokeback on

Well, I actually found a place that was open, and was able to get some riding in. The big sister and I did a six-hour ride in the mountains, or more accurately up and down a mountain.

It was a great trip, it was the two of us, three guides and two of their friends so it wasn't the typical tourist ride. We went into Kananaskis country. We stated in the Sheep River valley, then worked our way up Green Mountain on an elk run and then back down on some hiking trails. It was probably the most challenging ride I've done. We were going through rivers that were still half frozen and climbing down muddy trails.

Here's some photos:

shoulder season

I have to say I am sick of the words "shoulder season". That has essentially been the excuse given for why there is absolutely nothing to do here in Calgary, or the surrounding Rockies. Too late for winter sports, too early for summer, and anything you can do in the spring they have taken the week off.

 

Up north, we have the 'tween' season, between winter and what we like to call spring/summer. However it seems short. How it's so long down here is beyond me. Essentially everything ends from early to mid-April and nothing resumes until the middle of May. Maybe they just have too much money here in this province and they don't need to take any of mine.

 

Instead of going outdoors, I thougt I'd try to get my culture on by going to a show, concert or opera, but everything is sold out. I guess it's really the only option so everyone is doing it.

 

Yours truly,

 

Bored and Restless in Calgary

 

 

blog on the run

Sorry the blog's been a llittle quiet lately, the last set of exams were a killer, followed by far too much drinking and then several days of recovery, packing and cleaning. I am now in Alberta and am slowly working my way north for the summer and should resume blogging regularly.

 

 

de do do do, de da da da

The final part of planning for the Police concert fell into place today. Earlier this week, out of concern of ever increasing flight prices, I bought the plane ticket to get me from YK to Deadmonton. It was more than $700. I paid an extra $90 to get a fully refundable ticket on the chance I could get a seat sale close to the date.

Lo and behold, I got an email from Canadian North today announcing a two-day seat sale, today and tomorrow. Sixteen minutes on the phone at the end of class resulted in a new booking for $350 less than my original fare, and a full refund on my earlier ticket. Sweet. I love Canadian North.

So now, the trip breaks down as follows:

Floor Tickets for the Police Reunion Tour: $95
Round trip airfare to get to the concert: $435
Fighting Sally for the chance to hump Sting's leg: Priceless

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.

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.