Roadtrips

This past weekend marked the first roadtrip in Gertrude. Gertrude is my car. It makes noises like a duck and in the spirit of naming things after other things, there is a duck in the film adaptation of the classic Jules Verne novel "Journey to the Center of the Earth". And also one time a girl suggested that I name it Gertrude, so I did. Anyways this road trip was born out of a few reasons. Firstly it was to carry me and my passengers Matt Russell and Connie Neumiller to the wedding of Jacob Kokura. Incidentally I also was the wedding photographer for Jacob. Which makes it a weekend of firsts. So I took the photographs on Saturday, and then Gertrude carried us north to Westlockertonville, where there lives Jon and Kim Kramer as well as The Neumillers. It was a lovely trip and we were greeted at the house of the Neumillers with Turkey and Stuffing and Gravy and Yams and Potatoes. Then Matt and I retired to the Kramer household for tea and conversation. In the morning we went to Church and then were treated again to a delicious lunch and great conversation. The afternoon provided us some time to check out Westlockertonvilleurbia and the new House that Jon and Kim have purchased. It is a great house with a huge yard, and massive mature trees. Then for dinner we had leftover turkey and then Matt and I hit the road. The trip back was also great. Shared some laughs, some coffee, and some music. Basically the weekend was great, then I had to work at 6:30am on Monday morning.

After the story of the great roadtrip let me tell you a few reasons why Roadtrips are one of my favorite things. For starters they allow you the ability to get out town, to see something new and to enjoy people in a deeper and richer fashion. Second they allow the roadtripers much free food. When you visit people it is natural for you to not pay for any food over the visit since you came to visit them. You would repay the kindness if they ever wanted to stay with you. Thirdly roadtrips allow the testing of the vehicle. For example I found out that Gertrude may need a little work since when I arrived home there was steam pouring out of her and I think that there were some heat issues, and perhaps the inability to not removed the heat from the engine. (she's going in for service on Thursday). And third this roadtrip made me money, I took photographs at a wedding. So there you have it, random thoughts on roadtrips. Enjoy.

Cemeteries

As you may or may not know, my new house literally backs onto one of the largest cemeteries in Calgary. This final resting place goes by the name of Queens Park cemetery. The first Saturday that I lived here I went for a walk to get some air and to explore the surrounding area. I was also feeling mildly down since I had just moved and had to say goodbye to dear friends and also my place of residence and my life downtown. So I departed from my condo, I may or may not use the term Condo mildly liberally due to the fact that I do live in Condoesque type arrangements but in reality I still pay rent. So I departed from my condo with a large woolen sweater around my torso. It was kinda cold, which is in my opinion the best weather for walking, and I proceeded to walk through the headstones. It was an experience I will not soon forget. I had never in the past really spent that much time amongst graves, I had no reason nor rhyme to. So I walked and explored the vast monument to death which each and every cemetery is. Though it is a monument to death I find that it is also a monument to life, to the life that has been lived, however short. Though the entire cemetery is in memory to those passed on, and I found that looking at the headstones was quite sobering to think of what those who had been left endured, I have seen some where the spouse spends 40 years after the death of the other spouse. The most sobering and touching part of the cemetery on this crisp Saturday morning was the small children's area. I was drawn to the bright playground that was up the hill a little ways and went to see what the playground was for. I never figured out what the playground was for but I was captured by the headstones that were around the playground. There were headstones with one date on them. These headstones were kept up, the parents had put flowers by them, had made sure that it was tidy and had clearly spent time there mourning. It broke my heart to see that the life of these children was so brief and yet they were so clearly loved. My soul mourned for those who had passed and I also thought about how the parents who come to visit must feel. I have no claim to know nor have experienced what they went through, but their love was so evident that I think I caught a glimpse of what they were going through. From this deeply moving place I then allowed my interest to direct me to where I wanted to go next, I saw some large artillery guns up the hill a bit, and really enjoying history and all things historical I found myself wandering around the war memorial soaking up the history and wondering how many people actually knew about this memorial. It seems like the war memorial is hidden behind some trees, which gives it a little privacy, but I wondered if people did actually come and visit. Then I noticed the graffiti on the barrel on one of the large guns. I felt angry and wanted to confront those who had done such a thing to clearly a memorial. Teens these days have no concept of what their grandparents did for them. The teens also have no concept of what is a lasting memory to something far greater then video games and iPods. After being annoyed by the teens I left and headed back home.

It was a good hike in general and from that day forward I decided that I needed to make it a part of my regular life. People my question my sanity, but in turn I would question theirs. What better place to contemplate life and to enjoy the quiet and beauty then in a place where everyone is resting. Granted they are resting in peace, and I am only resting my soul and my mind be allowing the walk through to calm myself. I will confess that I am mildly afraid of the headstones at night, and one time Chris Throness and I did walk through the cemetery at night, and it was eerie at first, but since it was so quiet we were able to have a deep and challenging conversation and no longer were the headstones scary. I have even started to get off my bus a few stops earlier to be able to enjoy the walk home through the cemetery. This affords me time to think about my day, to contemplate what I will do during the eve and what I think about death. I have been thinking a lot about death the last few days. Well not thinking about death, but rather thinking about life, about what's going on right now, about what I spend my time doing. I haven't really come to any conclusions, granted even if I did they would change tomorrow when I walked through the cemetery again. I have been thinking about how I would like to change in the next year, about how I would like see myself and how I think other people see me, and perhaps what needs to change.

So in closing let me offer you some insight about my cemetery. I feel as though most of the trees need a good pruning, that headstones that are unique makes you question the person under the headstone trying to figure out who they are, and that plain headstones are an excellent reminder that after your life is over extravagance is unnecessary, (I realize that both statements are oxymoronish, but that's why I like it), Cemeteries are good for the soul and everyone should visit them to visit a passed loved one, or to take some time for yourself to find out who you really are. Thanks for Reading.

Errands

Today, correction, this morning was a morning of errands. I made myself a list of to-do items and I went on my merry way attempting to get them all done in time for some relaxation in the afternoon. I did manage to get them done, and was greeted with an unexpected feeling of accomplishment. I never really thought about how completing a list of things to do would actually feel good, and when I say good I mean great. Let me tell you what I did. 1. Picked up a package at DHL for my brother 2. Got fitted for a suit for Mike Schalins Wedding 3. Went and got fresh bread from prairie Bread Mill 4. Bought new jeans from Old Navy 5. Got a pot and some potting soil for my aloe vera. So many things to do. I then thought about how I got all of these things done in a morning, and had this been my previous life, a life without a car, these events would have taken the better half of a week to finish. It was a beauty day out today, the sun was shining, my sun roof was open and the trees are green. It was a great day for errands. Today I even washed my car, granted it was not on the list of things to do, but I washed in none the less. It now has a nice sheen to it, and I look forward to driving it again, but clouds are gathering in the sky and I hope that they don't make my car dirty again. Also while on my errands today I stopped by this place called Prairie Bread. I had heard of this place from my brother and I decided to check it out myself, I was surprised by the simplicity of the place. They mill their own whole wheat flour and they back everything from scratch, the way it should be done. I was even offered a sample when I got there and from that sample I made the decision that I should buy the Cinnamon raisin bread, it was unlike any bread I have had before. So rich and so delicious and organic it made my inner hippie jump for joy. I was hoping to share it with some friends this eve, but sadly they could not make it. While I was buying my garden supplies from this great little garden shop down the road, I caught myself speaking for my car. I myself was admiring how clean it was, and then I proceeded to use a Ron Burgundy voice and pretend I was the car saying "Look at how clean I am". After saying these few words I looked up and noticed that a man was sitting in his car with his window open not more then a few feet from where I was standing. I then proceeded to duck my head into my car and speed off. I then decided that a little human contact would be beneficial for my health. So as it has it this day has been full and glorious. I did some errands, did some reading, did some cooking, did some gardening, did some blogging, did some washing, and now I am going to do some more reading and then some sleeping.

Reading

Since moving into my new home I find myself reading more and enjoying the quiet time I have to read. But sadly, for the first time today I found myself drawn to a book, but was mildly ashamed of what I was reading. No I was not reading some sort of romance novel, nor was I reading anime, nor was I reading Wine Spectator, I was reading The Da Vinci Code. I don't fancy myself as a wildly trendy person, I don't own an I-Pod nor do I have the latest sunglasses nor do I spend great amount of time on Myspace (which is the trendy place to blog). I find myself to be an old fashioned type. A guy at work termed me Old World. I like French wine, I enjoy reading, and like having a pipe and going for walks. What does this have to do with reading? Well I also enjoy reading older novels by classic authors. Jules Verne, George Orwell, Aldous Huxley, and others strike my fancy. But this week I have been reading the number one best seller. This novel is even so trendy that it has "Now a major motion picture" stamped on the front. I am mildly ashamed by the cover and the fact that I have not read it yet. I was captivated by the book and even took it out to read while waiting for my bus after work. It is sad that I am ashamed of what I am reading, but since I am I will continue to read it in secret, or with the cover hidden. Why might I be reading such a novel? There are millions of people out there who have read the novel, and have something to say about it. I have chosen to read the book before making any statements regarding the quality, accuracy, and message of such a novel. There has been some rumbling from the conservative Christians regarding some of the premises of the novel, and since I would love to enter into debate about the topic I feel as though I must read the book from cover to cover to find out what Dan Brown is saying. I also just wanted a good read, and it is proving to be a great read.

But why is reading one of my favorite things? Reading is one of my favorite things because it allows me to use my imagination. Now I realize that much of this world is visual and that little is now left to the imagination, I still believe that if we as humans exercise that little part of us that allows us to be kids again and to see things in the minds eye for the first time. There is an aspect of escape contained within the pages of a novel, there is a chance to escape to someplace that perhaps already exists, but perhaps you create the way the clouds look rather then the way the church looks. Perhaps one of my fondest childhood memories is laying down with my siblings around the speaker while my parents were sitting in the kitchen having tea or watching us, and listening to Adventures in Odyssey, on cassette tape, and creating what the characters looked like and how Whits end was situated on the park and what Bart Rathbone's sneer looked like. I remember using AIO to estimate how long a roadtrip would be, and how many tapes it would take to get there. Edmonton was only 3 tapes away from Calgary. When the AIO animated features came out I was disappointed since the characters looked nothing like I had imagined. This same principle is true when I read something. I find that once I have the mental image of the way something looks then it is hard to breakaway and follow a new image. Its hard to actually watch a film that I have already watched in my mind, granted if the film is done well then sometimes I adopt those images alongside my already created image. All this to say that Reading is one of the most powerful exercises I find useful for my mind. It enlightens, it aids in sleeping and sometimes, when its popular and pop-culture, it makes me ashamed to be caught reading it.

Bubble Tea

Today after slaving for 7.5 hours for the Man, also known as Darren, I went to the world famous Calgary Chinatown. Now imagine if you will a chubby white male making his way through the small hallways of Asian buildings. I thought it was pretty funny myself. I was challenged yesterday by good friend Whitney Saip to go and have some bubble tea since where she lives it is in short supply. Side note, I find that hard to believe since she lives in a place called The Lower Mainland, where things of the bubble tea and Asian nature abundant. So my large frame and I went for a stroll into the heart of Chinatown. I was feeling rather chubby today since all those around me were roughly half my weight and half my girth. My brother had suggested a place to try for bubble tea since I had always liked this other place, but since he has an Asian g/f I don't argue with his taste in bubble tea. I found this place after much trying and was stopped at the door by the line that went from inside to outside the store. Thankfully another whitey was already in the store, but she was more then a little white trash so was clearly there out of obligation rather then genuine interest (granted that was a blanket statement, but try to imagine someone named Billy Joe drinking bubble tea). Side Note#2: Bubble tea = blended fresh fruit, ice, and pearls (tapioca balls which are black and look so very odd, but in the end the texture is beautiful). I finally got to order and clearly was white since I ordered in English and then awkwardly moved to the side to let some others out. It was also awkward due to the fact that I was wearing a backpack. Then I got my drink and left to catch the bus home. Side note#3: This place seals the top of the bubble tea so that none of the glorious juices escape enroute to the destination. Since it was sealed I decided to wait to open it and open it during my walk home from a bus a few stops away from the one closest to my house. I got off the bus and proceeded to walk through the Cemetery and enjoy the quiet and contemplative nature that the headstones held, as well as enjoy my delicious and nutritious drink while toasting SAIP, and enjoying the texture of the tapioca. In reality, bubble tea is one of my favorite things, I do enjoy it a little more with friends and the shinanagins that ensue with small balls of tapioca, but bubble tea alone is also great. And so with that I offer Bubble Tea as one of my favorite things.

Driving

Greetings. Since its been so long I will update you on my life before telling about what I like, driving. The last few weeks have been quite the ride, I have been tired, stressed, sad, happy, lonely, contemplative, and tired. I finally, after many moons of trying to fine a house, finally moved into a new place up in the NW of Calgary. A far cry from my former stomping grounds of Downtown Cowtown. The move has already rested my soul and I look forward to what the next few months or years will bring to my tired intellect and soul. I have also bought a car, and though it may be rash decision, I feel as though it fit in with moving from downtown. I need a car to get places, and I also need to drive myself to weddings that I will be taking photographs at. So none the less I am the proud owner of a 1989 Honda Civic 4 door 5 speed. Its a great little car and I plan to enjoy it deeply. Not much else has changed, I still work at the same jobs, doing to same things getting a little frustrated with the conditions I work under, but still need to make ends meet so I continue to work there. On with the blog. I drove to and from work today, and this makes me excited because I feels like I am finally growing up a little more. Granted getting a degree and living on my own is pretty grown up, but a car, thats even more adult like. I am also learning to drive standard, which for the first few days was trying on my patience, and I am sure on others as well. However, a week into driving I am finally getting the hang of it. Chris Throness taught me the other day how to down shift, and now my brakes are getting a break from the punishment I usually put them through. But why do I like driving so much? I like it because its freeing. Granted I really dont like driving during the day when there are lots of people on the road, but during the night, I could drive for hours. Its so calming to be on the road enjoying the creaking of your cars struts and springs and listening also to The Postal Service while navigating the streets of suburbia hell on the way home. Something just feels right. I also enjoy the freedom that a car brings in the way that I was able to go directly from a baseball game today, where I entered the worst batting slump of my life, and go directy to work. What freedom. Ah you say, but freedom comes at a price. I say, it sure does. You would think that living in one of the wealthiest citys in the country, a wealth that is enjoyed due to the consumption of fossil fuels extracted in the backyard of Calgary, you would think that gas would be cheap, it sure is not. So yes I may have the freedom of the car, but I also have the prison of the gas pump. But there is a silver lining. My parents purchased for me a membership to the CAA, which is a beauty since I am paranoid of breaking down, and with such membership I can fuel up at Husky and attain points, or something of that nature. Pretty cool eh? So freedom = prison = points. Anyways thats about it. Until next time.