Timbledown

2017-06-24T23:39:00.003-06:00

Hello visitor!

I've decided to move this blog to a new home, at http://timbledown.com. Hope to see you there.

An immodest ring, a modest proposal, and other events of interest

2012-10-21T00:42:00.003-06:00

(No, this has nothing to do with Jonathan Swift's essay. Also, for those to whom all of this is completely new, it may be helpful to read my previous post.)

It's been a couple of weeks now since I returned to Edmonton, and I'm still trying to get used to thinking of myself as a fiancé. Here are the highlights.

I spent two weeks in Nanaimo visiting Debbie (my then-girlfriend, now fiancée). I arrived on her birthday, which was my gift to her, and stayed until a few days after Thanksgiving.

During that time, we talked a lot about our plans, sorted out some minor issues, and generally spent a lot of time in each other's company. It became clear to both of us that we wanted to spend our remaining years together - at minimum.

The ring

We went shopping for an engagement ring, which was a two-day marathon at a mall. I won't bore you with the details, but we were fortunate (perhaps even blessed?) to find a beautiful solitaire ring (which pleased her) at an unbelievable price (which pleased me).

The ring is being sized right now, so we have a "stunt ring" standing in for it. It's one of Debbie's costume jewellery pieces. We were hoping some people might look at it and say, "Well. Hm. It's - nice, really. I - hmmm," all the while wondering if that was the actual ring. So far, no-one's taken the bait.

The proposal

The last Sunday I was there was Thanksgiving. We were going to go to Debbie's parents' house the next day for dinner. Although Debbie knew my proposal was coming (the ring shopping was a bit of a giveaway) she didn't know where or when. For that matter, neither did I, and I was running out of time.

On the spur of the moment, we decided to take an evening stroll near Pipers Lagoon (click the link for some pictures; you can google for more, there's no shortage of beautiful ones).

Pipers Lagoon (right) at low tide, looking back along the path we took. The tree is out of view to your left, and this photo is taken fairly close to where it all happened. (via NanaimoInformation.com)

The sun had already set by the time we got there, and there was a glow in the west that backlit the houses overlooking the lagoon. The water was mirror-still, and Debbie said that it looked like the reflection was a continuation of the hillside, making it appear that the lagoon's beach was a cliff overlooking a steep valley.

As we walked towards the point, the stars began to come out. We were surrounded by points of light - the stars, the houses, the lights of other islands and ships. It felt at times like we were floating in space.

We stopped near a tree that Debbie said had been there for decades, and was a favourite spot for wedding photos. The tree was a silhouette against the darkening sky, and it seemed to be holding a handful of stars in its branches. I knew then I would have a hard time finding a better place to propose.

I don't remember the exact words I said - when I proposed, I wanted it to come directly from my heart and not be memorized - but I do remember talking about how the ocean and the stars were symbols of eternity, and that trees are symbolic of life.

Then I told the English major part of my brain to shut up, and said to Debbie that I could no longer see how my life would be without her in it. I dropped to one knee (fortunately there wasn't a stone waiting there in the dark) and asked her to marry me.

She said yes. Whew. I was fairly certain of her answer, but all the same, when it comes, the impact is not lessened.

On the way back, in the dark, a few deer scampered across the path in front of us. Maybe they had been witnesses to the proposal and were now heading home to tell the others. Later that night, I repeated the proposal, and put the "stunt ring" on her finger. When I return to Nanaimo, one of the first things I'll do is to finally make the proposal a third time, with the real ring.

The blessing

Thanksgiving dinner at Debbie's parents' house was wonderful. I had red cabbage for the first time, and fortunately I liked this traditional Danish dish. I felt welcomed into the family, like I had always been a part of it but had just wandered off somewhere for a long time and had returned to catch up.

The day after, we visited Debbie's parents again. They seemed a bit puzzled that we showed up so soon after the big family gathering, but when they read the a letter I wrote for them, they understood.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Nielsen,

I haven't known you for very long, but I feel I already know a lot about you both by getting to know your daughter. She's told me about you, and I can also see what must be some of your character in her: strong, honest, hard working, good-hearted, and beautiful.
It's her character, among other things, that has caused me to fall in love with her. I know you both have loved her since she was born, and now I have come to know and love her as well.

It may seem old-fashioned to ask parents for permission to marry their daughter. Perhaps it is. What I would like to ask, then, is if you would give us your blessing to marry, which we would be greatly honoured to receive.

I hope, in the years to come, that we become closer, and that I may be privileged to call you my second mother and father.

Tim Dixon

Kære Hr. og fru Nielsen,

Jeg har ikke kendt dig i meget lang tid, men jeg føler, jeg allerede ved en masse om dig både ved at få at vide, din datter. Hun har fortalt mig om dig, og jeg kan også se, hvad der må være noget af din karakter i hende: stærk, ærlig, hårdtarbejdende, godhjertet og smuk.

Det er hendes karakter, blandt andet, der har forårsaget mig til at forelske sig i hende. Jeg ved, du både har elsket hende siden hun blev født, og nu har jeg kommet til at kende og elske hende så godt.

Det kan synes gammeldags at bede forældre om lov til at gifte sig med deres datter. Måske er det. Hvad jeg vil gerne spørge, altså hvis du vil give os din velsignelse til at gifte sig, som vi ville være meget beærede over at modtage.

Jeg håber, i de kommende år, at vi bliver tættere, og at jeg kan være heldig at kalde dig min anden mor og far.

Tim Dixon

(In honour of Debbie's father Niels' heritage, I translated the letter into Danish as well. Thank you, Google Translate.) There were wide smiles and tears of joy in the Nielsen household that day, and we received their blessing.

The wedding

So, when's the big day? We're looking at March, in Edmonton, details to come. In the meantime, I'll be moving to Nanaimo in November, and living in a little "bachelor pad" in Debbie's house that will serve as a beach-head of sorts for incorporating the rest of my belongings later.

I'm looking forward to spending my first Christmas in many years on the west coast, and celebrating with Debbie the gift that has come into our lives.

One journey ends, another begins

2012-09-09T15:36:00.000-06:00

Well, well, well. One of the major developments since the end of my trip west this past July is that I am no longer single. But to tell you about it, I need to go back in time 30 years.

After I graduated from high school, I decided to get a B.Ed. at Concordia College (now Concordia University College). I joined the choir, and met many new friends, some of which are still friends to this day. But one person in particular that I became particularily close to - Debbie Nielsen.

Concordia had, and still has, one of the best college choirs anywhere. I joined the choir as a tenor, she as a soprano. We began dating while on a choir tour, and continued seeing each other for a few months after that.

But, as often happens when people are so young, there was some uncertainty about what we wanted, and our plans for the future, so we decided to break up.

Over the years, we had some occasional contact. Debbie married, and changed her last name to Bourne; I went out with a few girlfriends during the same time, but never married. She lived in Nanaimo, where she grew up; I lived mostly in Edmonton.

When I was doing theatre at Chemainus, she discovered I was there and sought me out to say hello. I knew she was married and didn't want to seem overly interested, which she took to be complete lack of interest, even in friendship. (Yes, I'm an idiot.)

The next time we saw each other was in Edmonton. She had been divorced for a while, and now it seemed possible that we might get together, but this time I felt it was too soon to express interest, and again I refrained from saying anything, but it took a lot of willpower. (Still an idiot, but at least a gentleman idiot.)

Fast forward to last July. I sent out a notice on Facebook that I was visiting the west coast on business, was planning to extend my stay, and would any of my friends be interested in visiting? Debbie was one of the ones that replied, and we eventually worked out that I would come to Vancouver Island for a couple of days to see some old haunts and catch up, and she would act as tour guide. She had had a few boyfriends since her divorce, but wasn't currently seeing anyone.

On that visit, in the parking lot of a Tim Hortons in Mill Bay, I looked into Debbie's eyes and saw a deep appreciation and admiration, a look that I remembered seeing 30 years ago in those same eyes, and I could no longer resist. I kissed her, for what seemed like a very long time, and from that moment, the trip took on a very different character.

It was only for two days, and we left things in mid-air, not really sure what would become of the connection between us, mainly because of the distance. We did agree that we would keep in touch, and as long as we were both free, would keep seeing each other.

Two weeks after I returned to Edmonton, Debbie sent me what turned out to be a pivotal email. She wanted to come visit me for two weeks in Edmonton, to see if there might be something more to what we had experienced together, to get to know each other all over again. I happily agreed. During those two weeks, we went tent camping, sang at a karaoke bar, and talked for hours about our dreams, plans, and what we were looking for in a partner.

I am happy to report that we are now boyfriend and girlfriend again, after a 30 year hiatus. We are also both deliriously happy. I am going to visit her in Nanaimo this Thanksgiving to spend some more time together - and meet her family. Stay tuned...

The journey begins wrapping up

2012-07-13T23:14:00.001-06:00

Another very busy few days, and ending with me being so tired I don't have the energy to do any posting. So, here's a summary of what's happened since the last post.

Pulling out of Tsawwassen ferry terminal headed for Nanaimo, the first of three ferry rides in as many days. I took a lot of photos and videos on the ferries, and at some point I hope to put together a montage of some of them.

When I was between the ages 2 and 4, our family lived in Nanaimo. This was the second of two houses we lived in there. Friend Debbie helped me navigate around Nanaimo to find it, and also acted as a guide during my visit. We had known each other at Concordia College a few years back, so it was a good chance to get caught up.

My brother Mark and I at the Bastion in Nanaimo, at its old location. Probably taken sometime in '63 or '64.

Me at the Bastion in its new location, with the "Old Jail" door now below ground for some reason.

The entire Bastion.

Preparing to fire the noon cannon. Video coming soon!

Younger brother Mark and I desperately trying to hold up a totem pole. They're prone to falling over...

...as you can see here. Actually, this is the traditional way west coast First Nations retire old poles: they are laid in the forest and allowed to naturally decompose and return to nature. I had hoped to find the one my brother and I were holding up, but no such luck.

Down the road a bit from Nanaimo, the theatre in Chemainus. I was in one of two shows that opened the theatre 20 years ago.

Victoria, of course. Debbie and I considered having tea here, but decided our budgets were better used elsewhere.

Besides, there are plenty of free things to do in Victoria, like look at the waterfront...

...and the BC Legislature, both by day...

...and by night. This was taken after attending a guided tour of haunted Victoria, and catching a local up-and-coming band called the Capitol City Syncopators.

After bidding a fond farewell to Vancouver Island and to Debbie, it was on to the Sunshine Coast to visit with Paul and Kathy Wagler. The first stop after getting off the ferry was at Gibsons, where I got a chance to make a quick visit to Molly's Reach, a restaurant familiar to anyone who watched The Beachcombers.

The restaurant's interior wasn't used during the series, but it's now filled with memorabilia, like this costume worn by Robert Clothier who played Relic.

After some more sightseeing around Roberts Creek and area, we arrived at Paul and Kathy's little cottage, Blackberry Abbey. Cozy, isn't it? The Waglers are gracious hosts to many visitors, retreat participants, and others throughout the year.

Shiraz, the official greeter at the Abbey. Didn't bark at me once, but smiled a lot.

The Waglers grow a lot of their own produce, including figs. These are just approaching ripeness, and as long as the local wildlife doesn't get to them first, they'll become...

...part of the repast at the Abbey. If you'd like to see more pictures and read some of Paul's musings on a lifetime of experience, head over to his blog.

Today was much quieter, but still filled with visits with friends in Vancouver. I saw Erin again at lunch, this time with fellow former cast member from "Tony 'N' Tina's Wedding", Francis, at Central City Brewing Company. Dinner, depicted above (at least part of it) was with Louis. He had recently returned from living in Brazil, so I asked him to recommend a place with Brazilian food; he took me to Boteco Brasil. I've forgotten the names of what I had (Louis, help?) but these are light crispy pastry pockets filled with your choice of ground meat or cheese...

...and this is the Brazilian "comfort food". The plate on the left comes to you with farinha (fine wheat crumbs, the Brazilians are very keen on contrasting textures), a very light salsa, and rice. The pot at left is filled with cooked and partly pureed beans, with meat chunks. Ladle right and left ingredients on rice and eat until full. A very tasty introduction to Brasilia!

Tomorrow, it's a bit of culture, and another visit. I leave late Sunday, but am still hoping to fit in some more visiting or sightseeing.

The journey continues further

2012-07-09T23:32:00.000-06:00

Great couple of days, crowded with activity. Not much time to blog about it, but here are the highlights, told mostly in pictures.

Saturday was spent at the Museum of Vancouver (MOV) and environs.

The Art Deco fashion exhibit at MOV. Lots of cloche hats.

The Neon Vancouver exhibit. The room was abuzz. Literally.

After the MOV, I headed outside and joined the other walkers along the shoreline.

There were a number of classes underway - for rowing, for yoga, and for this strange sport that involves being towed around by a parachute while standing on a skateboard. Kids these days, I swear.

Go Fish. No cards in sight.

After an hour or so, I felt the need for some lunch, so after consulting my electronic travel guide I found a place selling local seafood called Go Fish. As you can see, they were extremely busy that day, but after 30 minutes in line and another 30 minutes waiting for my food, I finally got my halibut and chips. Definitely worth the wait, but those poor folks really need to get some more staff, they were overworked.

Someone else who was waiting for fish.

The evening's activity was the Vancouver Canadians baseball game, thanks to friend Steve.

Sunday was a visit with friend Ron, but I decided to preface it with a bit of a drive to the northwest end of Richmond, where the walking trail along the dyke wall starts. It turned out to be a good place to watch planes taking off from Vancouver Airport.

And today, I had a very fine Japanese lunch at, of all places, a seniors' complex. The National Nikkei Heritage Centre has a residential complex attached, with a cafeteria that serves hearty comfort food. Thanks to friend Erin for suggesting it, a great find.

The Nikkei Home, and location of Hi Genki, Burnaby's best kept secret.

Waiting for delicious things.

The National Nikkei Heritage Centre.

Afterwards, on Erin's recommendation, I decided to explore a bit. The museum in the Centre wasn't open (not unusual for a Monday) so I contented myself with a few pictures of the grounds.

A memorial to the Japanese displaced during World War II.

At that point, my camera battery died and I realized I hadn't packed a spare, so out came the phone. Next stop was Deer Lake Park, a place I'd never visited when I lived in Vancouver. I may have to make a point of visiting here again.

The Heritage Carousel in Deer Lake Park. Closed on Mondays, so a little quieter than usual. The horses must have gone for a swim, hence the towels.

A brook emptying into Deer Lake, which apparently makes for a fine picnic spot.

A trail winds all the way around the lake, which turned into a great 45 minute walk.

And now, to prepare for the trip to the island tomorrow, and a trip back in time 49 years...

The journey continues

2012-07-07T00:39:00.001-06:00

A bit of time has gone by without much posting, so I hope to make that up with this one. (Incidentally, the first post now has pictures, in case you want to go back and have a look at that one.)

After getting off the train, there were two days of the UBC institute that made up the business part of the trip. Not much to write about there, without boring some of you, so I'll leave that out.

Next, a visit with friend Steve at the Flying Beaver Pub near the airport. Great restaurant, right out on the water, where you can watch the float planes take off and land. Great food too - I had a Pad Thai that may not have been authentic, but was definitely tasty.

Before that, I took a little time to catch a few landings.

A little planespotting.

After lunch, off to Granville Island to fill up the data card on my camera.

Granville Island.

Granville Island. Another bridge shot. I like bridges.

Guess what? Another bridge shot.

The evening's activity was the Cold Reading Series at the Billy Bishop Legion, as a guest of friend Deb. Great fun - I offered my services as a reader but as it turned out they had plenty that night. Afterwards it was downstairs for a pint and some conversation.

Cold Reading Series at the Billy Bishop Legion.

Which brings me to today, which was spent on the UBC campus, and mostly at the Museum of Anthropology. The MOA's collections are superb, so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Museum of Anthropology, totem figure.

MOA main hall.

MOA main hall again.

A Zen Buddhist monk, the founder of Asian Zen Buddhism. For someone who's attained Nirvana, he doesn't seem pleased about it.

Bill Reid's famous sculpture under the skylight.

On the way back to the Rose Garden Parkade, I realized the name wasn't just an attempt at beautification. There actually is a rose garden on top of the parkade.

The Rose Garden at UBC, a last-minute delight.

By any other name.

And, after a leisurely trip back through rush hour traffic, past familiar landmarks (my old apartment on 4th Avenue, The Naam, Videomatica's sad empty shell), I found my way back to my Richmond digs. Tomorrow, it's the Museum of Vancouver, and then a little baseball.

The journey begins by rail

2012-07-01T22:58:00.001-06:00

It seems like the only thing I ever use this blog for is to document travel. At some point I hope to return to posting other things, but this will have to do for now.

I'm writing this as I sit in my lower berth accommodations aboard VIA Rail's The Canadian, bound for Vancouver. It's the end of a very long day which began about 18 hours ago. A cab ride at 6 am to the VIA station, an uneventful boarding, and an introduction to our car's porter, Kevin (not his real name). This part of the car is very quiet, only a couple of other passengers and me. I'm booked for the upper berth, but Kevin tells me if no one takes the seat across from mine at Jasper, then the lower berth is mine. His words prove prophetic.

My home for the next 24 hours.

The new renter.

The train trundles along at varying speeds throughout the trip, sometimes slowing or stopping for a freight, sometimes a fully scheduled stop for passengers at a station. In Spruce Grove we're delayed for a full hour to allow runners in a marathon to cross the track. Considering the number of times I've waited for trains at railway crossings, I wonder whether this was a CN sponsored event.

The dining hall.

The meals are exceptional. For brunch, I opted for something unusual: a duck confit Benedict. The poached egg and Hollandaise, both far better than most Benedicts I've had, were joined by duck meat and a cake made of shredded potato and bacon.

First breakfast - duck confit benedict.

There wasn't a lunch to speak of, but considering the quality of the brunch I didn't miss it. The stop in Jasper, originally planned to be 90 minutes, was cut in half to make up for the time lost in Spruce Grove. I managed to get a snack and a few photos of the train before we had to board again.

Most of the Jasper break was taken up by an unplanned trip to a camera store in Jasper. I had packed everything I needed for my camera - except the spare battery and charger. While they had a large variety of batteries and chargers, none were made for my camera. I would have to ration the battery usage, and lean more heavily on the iPhone's camera. I managed to get one last photo before the camera's battery died - a shot of Pyramid Falls, visible only from the train (highway travellers never see it).

Speaking of charging, thereby hangs another tale. The train was greatly lacking in AC outlets, so as devices required charging, it turned out to be a bit of a struggle to find places to plug in. I have a portable battery that I use to charge my devices, so fortunately I don't need an outlet that often, but when that too ran down, I resorted to plugging it into the electric razor plugin in the bathroom.
As it turned out, the devices saw pretty limited use anyway. There's no WiFi on the train, which I thought was a universal service across VIA, but turns out is only available in high traffic areas like Ontario and Quebec, or when in a station. Plus, in the Rockies, cellular signals are spotty at best along the railway line.

It turned out to be for the best. Any time I would have spent checking email or Facebook was now taken up with wandering up and down the train or long stints of staring at the passing scenery.

Pyramid Falls. Sadly, this was the last picture my camera took before the battery died.

Which, when it comes right down to it, is what train travel should be all about. The mind drops into a lower gear, one cares less and less about the outside world, and all that matters is pleasant travel, good scenery and good food.
Rail travel is a far more social mode of transportation than air or road. This is mainly felt at meals, where to in order to use limited table space efficiently, you are seated at a table of four with three other people from other parties. At brunch I met Frank from Winnipeg, Dieter and Greta from Kiel in northern Germany; dinner was with a pharmacist from California and a couple originally from Iowa who now sell real estate in Florida. While I'm not a naturally gregarious person, I can muster what's needed to get me by, and this time I found that I enjoyed and learned from my table-mates.

The twilight is deepening outside my window. The steady low rumble of wheels on rails is lulling me to sleep. I think it's time to succumb to the lull.

Shortly before bed.

The Trip East, Day 11: in which there is more art and less matters

2011-10-25T20:00:00.001-06:00

The bulk of the day was spent, as planned, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. They don't open until 11:00 am, though, so there was time for an errand before.

I went to Centre Eaton and picked up a pair of New Balance walking shoes. An immense improvement! Probably the best shoes I remember owning. Zero pressure on existing blisters from my previous shoes, and a nice springiness to the step. Night and day. Now I can see why Steve Jobs only wore New Balance - not the same model, but still. I might have just found my new favourite shoe.

Anyhoo, I arrived at the MMFA (or MBAM in French, which is more fun, frankly) and discovered it's housed in three different buildings, only two of which are publicly accessible as far as I know. There's an old converted church, and there's this new one:

Two very happy surprises about MBAM. First off, in celebration of a new exhibit of Napoleonic items that were recently donated, admission was free throughout the building. Second, something I didn't discover until I got into the galleries. I saw someone snapping away with their point-and-shoot. Then another with a DSLR. Security guards were walking by and not saying a word. Could it be? Yes. They. Allow. Pictures.

I had already checked my camera with my bags at the coat check, and not wanting to waste any of the 6 hours I had in the place, I dug out the trusty iPhone and began snapping. Here's a Renoir:

After a couple of hours in a few of the galleries, my phone battery was almost depleted, so I went back to coat check to recharge, and to retrieve my DSLR. On with the portrait lens, and more photos, this time (I hope) of better quality, although the iPhone's no slouch either.

Here's just a small sample of what else I got. Note Napoleon's actual hat and death mask - both were taken with the iPhone, the rest with the Panasonic Lumix GH2:

As 5:00 closing time approached, I began madly snapping away, barely looking at what I was getting, knowing I could take time to look at it later, albeit not in person. Tired but happy, I also came away from the boutique with a few books.

Rather than heading straight home on the metro, I decided to have dinner in the MBAM neighbourhood first. I wandered a bit in that strange headspace you can get into where you're so tired and hungry you don't know what you want. Everything also looked just a bit too classy for my mood.

About then I saw some cheap yellow chaser lights, which led me to Carlos & Pepe, a Mexican restaurant. Turned out to be just what the doctor ordered - and I was the doctor:

Rested and fed, I made my way back to the barracks. A few errands tomorrow, then on to the train, and thence to Quebec City, to attend the conference that initiated this entire trip. My posts may be intermittent over the next few days, as much of what I'll be doing will be work-related, but I'll try and keep things up.

The Trip East, Day 10: in which a man's gotta know his limitations

2011-10-24T20:04:00.001-06:00

Dirty Harry was right. I discovered the hard way today that you can't make 50 year old feet do 20 year old activities for very long without paying for it eventually. Especially in a city with hundred year old cobblestones.

My feet have been a bit achy and sore at the end of the day lately, but yesterday they were really talking to me. On the way home I picked up some new insoles and replaced the worn-out ones in my shoes.

Today, even with the new insoles, I found I couldn't walk more than a hundred yards without starting to limp. Pretty much constant pain, not unbearable, but certainly distracting. Tomorrow, I make a pilgrimage to the mall to source some better walking shoes and see if that helps.

Today was also the first test of my new migraine medication. I felt an aura coming on this morning, and thankfully I had a dose with me that dissolves instantly on the tongue. Aura came and went, but no headache afterwards. BAM! Take that, inherited condition!

Enough health complaints. Today I spent the entire day in Old Montreal. For me, it was almost completely about the architecture. Around every corner there's yet another building to gasp at. Here's a few favourite samples I found while following a great self-guiding tour:

The crown jewel of them all, though, was Notre Dame Basilica. Here's the sight that greeted me on first coming into the darkened sanctuary from a brightly lit street:

There's so much detail here, so much decoration; paintings, sculpture, woodwork, all decades if not centuries old. I was interested to find the two statuettes of Ezekiel and Jeremiah that might have inspired the well-known Irving Layton poem:

"What coarse jokes must pass between you..."

I was on a mission for lunch today: Poutine. Everyone must have their favourite place, but I found one in the vicinity, appropriately called Montreal Poutine. It's run by a few very nice young people, and their take on the traditional dish has some twists, but I opted for the straightforward version. I did offset that with a grilled cheese sandwich with chicken, three kinds of cheese, onions and caramelized pears, and a Maudite to wash it all down:

By about 5 pm, it was getting very overcast, too dark for photos. My feet were ready to give out at any minute, and it started to rain. Fortunately, I was pretty much done with the self-guided tour, so I looked for some place to have supper and rest up before heading home. I almost literally stumbled on this place:

They had a nice artichoke salad, a great grilled cheese sandwich (again, not so traditional, with ham and some kind of gruyere on the inside, and grated parmesan and a cherry tomato on top) and a European orange drink:

(I realized later I could have had a beer - it takes some getting used to a province where the liquor laws are more American than Canadian. Heck, I could have bought a six-pack from the gas station this morning if I was so inclined. But I digress.)

All in all, a good day, to which I meant to add a visit to the Museum of Archaeology and History, but all the museums are closed Mondays in the fall and winter months. Oh well, something for the next trip. I still have one full day left, and it's going to be spent at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. I loves me a bunch of art, I does.

The Trip East, Day 9: in which Bucky figures prominently

2011-10-23T18:54:00.001-06:00

For some reason, I was up earlier than usual, and decided to go to Ile Sainte-Helene. The island has seen a lot different uses over the years - Aboriginal encampment, military post - but for me the one I remember most is the site of Expo '67.

I was 6 years old when Expo was on, and I've never been to the site before now, but somehow the event has held some fascination for me. The optimism, the late 60s styling, the international flavour - not sure if it's any one of those, or all of them, but I think the big one is the design.

One of the most prominent designers, of course, is R. Buckminster Fuller, or "Bucky" as he was sometimes known. His design for the geodesic dome of the US Pavilion is still standing:

Also extant are a number of pieces of statuary that I assume were on the original site as well, but don't have labels for some reason:

I was at the park by about 8:00, so there was almost no activity - at least little human activity anyway:

Later that morning, after having made a circuit of the entire island snapping away, I visited a couple of the museums. The first was the Biosphere, tucked into Bucky's dome. It has a number of interesting environmentally-themed exhibits, including one that had dress designs using repurposed materials. Here's one made entirely out of books, for example:

But the best part of that museum, at least for me, was the view from the observation deck. It's an odd feeling being inside the dome but outdoors; everywhere you look, your vision is obscured by that triangular grid. Reminds me of an old Star Trek episode, The Tholian Web:

On to the Stewart Museum, which has been improving its digs in an old military barracks and fort built in the early 1800s. There are a number of interesting artifacts dating all the way back to the first European encounters with the new world. (Sorry, no pictures - my bag had to be checked, and I assumed that meant I couldn't use my camera phone.) However, here's a shot of one of the exterior walls, showing some of those holes they shoot guns out of (can't remember the name for them, can't be bothered to look it up right now:)

After that, it was back to the mainland, so to speak. I had left my charging cable for my phone back at my lodgings, so I had no way of recharging it using my portable battery. So I made a pilgrimage to Mecca, the Apple Store on Rue Ste-Catherine.

Being a Sunday afternoon, the place was absolutely packed. My errand done, I realized all I'd had to eat that day was a snack breakfast at the Biosphere, so it was time for a good feed. Across the street from the Apple Store was Les 3 Brasseurs, a microbrewery and pub that seemed to get good recommendations. Their medal-winning house "brun" was superb, and I had a nice cordon bleu schnitzel to go with it, since it was Oktoberfest after all.

On the way home, I solved the mystery of the searchlights. It's an interactive art installation. Passersby can control the direction of one of the searchlights, and the others "react" to its movement. Up to six of the searchlights can be controlled at any one time. I didn't stick around to try it out, but the people who did looked like they were having fun. Here's a little info on it.

One last note on what's turned out to be a long post! I'm finding the sound of French around me is not as alienating as it seemed to be yesterday. In fact, it seems comforting. I do get the sense that when I do the courtesy "merci" at the end of a conversation that's been all in English, there's some times when I think I see a reaction flash across the person's face that seems to say sarcastically, "wow, the anglais is throwing me a bone". I don't know. On the whole, though, Francophones have been very kind and very accommodating. It'll be interesting to compare that experience with Quebec City when I get there - I've been told by some people there's less accommodation.

So thanks, Montrealers, and thanks, Bucky!

The Trip East, Day 8: a new province, a new language

2011-10-22T19:54:00.004-06:00

A day filled with mild culture shock. It began in Ottawa, ON and ended in Montreal, QC. But it might as well have started on Earth and ended on Mars.

Well, that's putting it a bit strongly, but the day (and I suspect, the rest of the trip) will be one long French immersion course. I do have some high school French, and spent a few weeks with a Rosetta Stone course to refresh my memory, but there are gaps in what I need in the way of everyday vocabulary.

That being said, everyone I've met so far has been very pleasant and accommodating, and in fact is probably used to dealing with "maudite anglaises" on a regular basis. It was gratifying when my limited French was able to leap to mind, but I suspect people were thinking in some corner or their minds, "look, a talking dog".

Anyway, on to the day's activities. After another fine train ride this morning thanks to VIA, I arrived in the Montreal train station, and emerged from the train area to discover these fine art deco murals:

I contacted my billet, and after a bit of a delay while my room was being prepared, I finally dropped off my extra luggage and was off to make the most of the rest of the day.

I decided to make my way to the top of Parc du Mont Royal, a good thing since it took the better part of the afternoon. I had planned to combine it with some other activities on another day, and it clearly needs a half-day of its own.

A ride on the metro, a short bus ride almost to the top, and then it's walking all the rest of the way. The fall colours and vistas made it far from drudgery.

At the top, I was rewarded with the sight of the iconic cross.

After Mont Royal, I headed off to dinner with the nephew of one of my dear friends. And where else would one go in Montreal, but to Schwartz's Deli!

We waited in line outside for about 20 minutes, and when we were finally let in, we sat next to an older local couple and another older couple visiting from Philadelphia. The close quarters necessitated conversation, so we talked about this and that as we partook of what must be Montreal's finest smoked meat sandwiches:

After bidding farewell to my dinner guests, I was treated to a light show coming from a couple of locations near the Place des Arts. What was the occasion? I don't know, but it was a beautiful sight. I shot some video of it, I'll post that sometime after I get back.

Now, very tired, I'm pondering which of my itineraries to take on tomorrow. If the weather's good, it'll likely be the old Expo 67 site, now known as Parc Jean-Drapeau. If not, perhaps a museum or two in Old Montreal.

The Trip East, Day 7: in which I suffer for my art.

2011-10-21T18:27:00.001-06:00

I'm writing this post on my iPhone while sitting in a laundromat. It's almost the end of another very long day.

It started with an unpleasant discovery. VIA Rail only allows two pieces of carry on luggage on the next leg of my journey tomorrow. Thanks to my recent purchases, I have 3. I called VIA to see about a freight service. Any option there wouldn't work with my itinerary. So, on my way to the National Gallery of Canada this morning, I stopped off at Canada Post, bought a box and aw tape, and shipped the excess back he. I have a feeling I'll need to do that once more before the trip to Quebec City, but we'll see.

Once at the NGC, however, things improved. The place was being threatened by a giant spider, however.

This is, of course, the Louise Bourgeois sculpture "Maman".

As I suspected, no photos allowed inside the galleries, so today's pics were limited. Got a shot of the long ramp up to the first level galleries:

What glories awaited at the end of that road! No words are adequate to describe what it's like to stand in the same orientation to a canvas as a famous artist, know the paint you are now looking at was put there by that artist. The only way to experience that creation more directly would be to watch it being painted.

Van Gogh. Renoir. Rembrandt. Picasso. And so many others, some of whom were unknown to me before today but which have now become new favourites, or at least new interests. Staring into the raw furnace of a Rothko. Basking in the brisk streamlining of Lawren Harris. Gasping at the energy Rodin brings to bronze.

It was 6 1/2 uninterrupted hours of bliss. No lunch needed - I was adequately fed.

Enough gushing. Tomorrow, on to Montreal.

The Trip East, Day 6

2011-10-20T21:28:00.001-06:00

Another very long day, at the Canadian Museum of Civilization. For some reason I seem to remember parts of this place, even though I know for a fact I've never been here. Maybe there's just parts of it that remind me of other museums, like the Royal BC Museum.

I started off in the Grand Hall, devoted almost entirely to west coast First Nations.

This space is immense - it has to be to contain several full-size totem poles and replica longhouses. The facing wall of glass makes it seem even larger, and lets in a tremendous amount of light, even on a rainy overcast day like today.

The building is crammed with exhibits, but I'll try to pick out a few favourite items. In the First Peoples section, I found this interesting sculpture by Jamasie Pitseolak:

Anyone my age remembers those ads for the Unitarian Service Committee, including their address (okay, say it with me: 56 Sparks Street, Ottawa). I found a tribute to its spokesperson, Lotta Hitschmanova. From the exhibit, I learned her actual last name was Hitschmann, but she altered it in order to distance herself from her German heritage.

All the exhibits aside, there were three things I was really pleased with. One, the IMAX film Rocky Mountain Express, which has some spectacular cinematography. For a taste, here's the trailer:

Second, the Zen Garden outside the Museum's main entrance:

Third, the Cafe de Musee, the Museum's restaurant. For some reason, I and one other party of three were the only ones in the place. It turned out to be fine dining for lunch! First, a mushroom soup that was actually a puree, wonderfully rich without being heavy. The main course, a first for me, was quail in a raisin-cranberry sauce:

That was followed by a concoction the chef had come up with herself - won tons filled with cheesecake, rolled in sugar and cinnamon, with a raspberry compote:

Very fine, very French, and a nice preview of dining experiences to come, hopefully, in Montreal and Quebec City.

Speaking of French, the closer I get to la belle province, I'm noticing the more prominent its language is becoming. For instance, because the Museum is actually in Quebec (Hull to be precise), all the signage is bilingual, but with French first. Took my eyes a while to get used to finding the English section sometimes. Seems obvious, but for someone who's lived most of his life in a French-second world, it takes a bit of getting used to.

The Museum was open until 8 tonight, and for some reason I couldn't find a bus that took me back over to Ottawa at that hour, so I walked back over the Alexandra Bridge, stopping at one point to get a night-time shot of the Parliament Buildings:

Tomorrow is the last full day in Ottawa, and it'll be spent at the National Gallery. Like the AGO, it's a "no picture" place, so I'm not sure what I'll be able to capture, or even if I'll bring the bigger camera - maybe I'll just do it all with the iPhone!

The Trip East, Day 5

2011-10-19T19:08:00.001-06:00

Today was spent at Parliament Hill. It's very strange to visit a place you've only seen on TV, on film, etc. especially when it's filled with such iconic things.

I arrived at the Visitor Centre, and before the tour, I went up the Peace Tower. At the base of the elevator up to the top of the tower, though, was a powerful and moving room: The Memorial Chamber.

The room has a number of cases containing books. The books in each of the cases contain the names of the people lost in each conflict. The central book, the first one in the Chamber, lists the names of the First World War dead. Since the book contains over 60,000 names, each day there is a ceremony held - at 11:00 am, the time of the signing of the WWI armistice - in which one page of the book is turned. That way every name is seen for one full day every year.

The central book case is reminiscent of the Ark of the Covenant, which is probably not accidental. The rest of the room is equally reverential, moving, and astounding - and all in a room probably 50 feet on each side.

It's testament to the impact that the first modern war had on those who lived through it; how clearly different in magnitude it had been from anything before it, and how earnestly they wanted to remember that magnitude, perhaps to prevent it happening again. All the more poignant in that more conflicts were to come - and more dead to remember.

The top of the Tower has a spectacular view.

I also took some video of the tour, and hope to post an edited version when I get back. The only part we didn't see was the House of Commons, since Parliament is in session.

I could have come back later to see if I could get into Question Period, but it would have meant going back through the airport-level security to get back in the building. Besides, there were other treasures waiting outside - the statuary.

I spent the afternoon running a few errands - a second camera battery, for one - and narrowing down my choices for my two remaining days in Ottawa. After some hard deliberating, it's the Canadian Museum of Civilization tomorrow (open until 8), and the National Art Gallery. The others will have to wait for another time!

The Trip East, Day 4

2011-10-18T19:16:00.001-06:00

What. A. Day.

I left my one-room bohemian digs this morning with an extra burden - a bag of books I had bought at the AGO and ROM. I didn't have room in my other luggage for them, at least not right now. I made the foolish assumption that I could walk from Bathurst and Queen to Union Station. Yes, it's walkable, but not comfortably with 3 burdens. Plus, about halfway there, the handles on the bag broke, so I had to carry it under my arm.

Also, about halfway to the station, my phone no longer seemed to be responding to tapping on the screen, which eliminated any quick photos I could take with it. All the snaps I took today were with the other camera, and it's so much more of an effort to get it out and shoot that I was pretty sparing with it. Here's one shot I managed to pause long enough to get outside the station. No idea what this sculpture is about, there wasn't enough time to check.

I arrived at Union Station with just a few minutes to pick up my ticket, and no time to scout for another bag to substitute for the ripped paper one, so I humped all my belongings onto the train.

The ride itself was beautiful. It really is a more civilized way to travel. No stress from driving, no road to be shared with other idiots or maniacs, just smooth rolling comfort and an ever-changing landscape. Granted, it's a landscape that goes by awfully fast sometimes, but I did manage to get the occasional interesting shot, thanks to the quick shutter on the Panasonic GH2.

Meantime, I did some diagnostics on the phone, but I wasn't able to correct the problem - still not accessible. It made no sense, and I couldn't find any mention of the problem or a solution online. (Thank goodness for the iPad, otherwise I would have been completely without Internet access!)

Finally, we arrived at Ottawa Station, and I got the shots I wanted to get before I left:

Farewell, Aquarius, and we thank you.

A short cab ride later, and I was at the hotel. And what a hotel! Modest by hotel standards, perhaps, but in contrast to my last accommodations, it might as well be the Ritz Carlton:

And what a view! The telephoto even picks out what looks like some of the buildings on Parliament Hill in the distance:

I decide to head downtown to the Apple Store and see if someone can figure out what's wrong with my phone. A kind young lady began taking my information on an iPad to set up an appointment for me, then asked what the problem was. I described it to her, and she said, "Oh, I know what that is." After a few deft flicks and taps, the thing was back to normal. Turns out I had turned on the accessibility features somehow, which requires multiple taps to activate buttons, and other behaviours are toned down to allow for more ease of use. Except by me. I laughed heartily when she handed back the "fixed" phone!

I spent another hour or so doing some errands while I was downtown: getting my second meal of the day (at 3:00!); picking up a lighter jacket that should work better than the sweat box raincoat I've been wearing; and getting a couple of mesh laundry bags to help distinguish clean from dirty clothes (forgot to get them before leaving). I bought a pastry from a bakery in the Rideau Centre that looked like a cinnamon bun, but was tricked out like a boston cream - vanilla pudding filling, chocolate on top. Interesting, tasty, not sure I understood it, but I ate it.

One more thing. Remember that bag of books? Left them on the train. I called VIA Lost and Found, they said they'd call when they located them. Haven't heard back yet as of this writing. Oddly, I'm not terribly upset about that - I'm just glad some of my more expensive and difficult to replace items are still with me.

Now to bed. Tomorrow, Parliament awaits.

The Trip East, Day 3

2011-10-17T21:04:00.002-06:00

A long day at the ROM (Royal Ontario Museum). I've lost 2 drafts of this post to a crashy blog app, and am too tired to rewrite it, so here's a bucketload of photos from today. All were taken with the iPhone 4S because I forgot to charge my camera battery.

First, the TTC Museum subway station:

And now, the museum itself, some of my fave pics from today.

More later perhaps, including some Greek and Roman stuff. Tomorrow, on to Ottawa!

The Trip East, Day 2

2011-10-16T20:55:00.000-06:00

I spent the entire day at the Art Gallery of Ontario. They don't allow pictures in there, of course, but a selection of what I was able to get is below. The rest will be links.

When I got there right at opening, there was a line-up - something I'd never seen at a gallery. Turns out it was a member preview for the Chagall exhibit that opens in a few days. I thought about buying a membership just to get in to see it, but the lineup was so big it would have meant I would have had less time to see the other exhibits. Besides, Chagall really doesn't turn my crank anyway.

My favourite stuff was probably the Thomson collection of medieval art on the main floor - I spent almost twice as much time there as in any other gallery.

What struck me time after time is that I would come across a familiar piece by Emily Carr or Lawren Harris or someone else, something that I'd seen as a print many times, and would have to remind myself that no, this is the original I'm looking at, this is where all those prints came from.

Something that prints don't allow you to do is examine the craft that went into these pieces: the brushstrokes (or lack of them in some cases!), the colors used to create a certain kind of light, and so on.

The AGO's renovation (well, new to me at least, even though it's 3 years old) is magnificent, especially the "Italian Gallery"' the one that you see pictures of all the time. Well, you're going to see a couple more, so bear with me.

You can also see the exhibit that's been in there since the gallery opened. In the large trunk and the pieces along the wall, the artist carefully stripped away the wood of the tree, revealing the younger version of it embedded inside.

That's about it for pictures. Other highlights were: the Lawren Harris paintings, as I mentioned; the "salon" recreations (paintings jammed in next to each other, pretty overwhelming in a good way; the larger paintings like this one (the measurements really don't give you any idea of what the thing is like in person, all the figures are life-size!); the Pope bust; and - well, I could go on, but I won't.

The Trip East, Day 1

2011-10-15T21:23:00.004-06:00

The day started at 3:30 am, picked up by a cab at 4, arrive at Edmonton International Airport. When there, I had my first 21st century pre-boarding experience; checked in online the day before, electronic boarding pass on my smartphone.

Security was even 21st century, as I was compelled to either submit to a full body search or "the scanner". Being of a somewhat modest persuasion, I chose the latter. I stepped into a booth that looked like those "grab for cash" things at car dealerships, raised my hands over my head and clasped them, which in restrospect seemed a little like one of those victory poses boxers used to do, a bit ironic considering the circumstances. Turns out the initial alarm was caused by the two tiny keys for the lock on my suitcase that I had tossed in my pants pocket, and that my shoes had metal reinforcements. Fortunately, I was not considered to be a threat to the flying public, and was released.

The flight to Toronto is long enough to watch two movies, so I saw Orson Welles' MacBeth (the one with the squarish crown that makes him look like he has an inverted occasional table on his head).

The second feature was The Darjeeling Limited, which I saw 99.99% of, until they cut power to the screens just before the final few lines. I hope everything turned out all right for those plucky brothers - guess I'll have to rent it just for the sake of a few lines.

The flight was otherwise uneventful. I always dread turbulence, mainly because of a bad experience with it on a couple of occasions, so I know what the worst of it can be and always expect it to happen. I think, though that aircraft design and turbulence detection have advanced quite a bit since the days of "the unpleasantness".

Parts of Pearson International look like the set of Logan's Run. I didn't take a picture, but those who have seen bot h will know what I'm talking about.

The room is as advertised, the pictures didn't lie; what you can't put in an ad, though, is smell. When I was first let into the hallway leading to my room, there was a strong odor of a feline accident, but that seems to have dissipated, or perhaps been overcome by the smell of Axe wafting in from another room where the young male guests were preparing for a night on the town.

I spent the remainder of the day wandering about the neighbourhood. The first order of business was lunch, and having only had a turkey sandwith and coffee before the flight, I was pretty ravenous by then. I wandered about until something struck my fancy, in this case, sushi.

Izmi Sushi. Highly recommended.

I wandered some more, trying to decide if I wanted to still try and make it to some art galleries or museums, but decided I was too tired to make the effort. Some local theatre was considered but abandoned, as there was nothing playing that interested me.

So, I went to Captain America in 3d. So much for culture.

Taken as a whole, not a bad day, considering all I was planning to do was travel today. Tomorrow, it's all day at either the AGO or ROM. This is your humble correspondent, reporting from somewhat comfortable squalor, signing off.

The Trip East

2011-10-14T14:23:00.001-06:00

It's been a long time since my last post, almost a year. I've been posting on Facebook and Twitter mostly over the last year and haven't had time to do proper blog posts.

So why am I starting up again? Well, tomorrow I go on a trip to the eastern part of this country. It's a partly business and partly pleasure trip. I have never been to Ottawa, Montreal or Québec City, and I will be visiting all three of those lovely burgs over the next few weeks. Along the way I'll take a few pictures, maybe some video, and share them with you here. Stay tuned!

Vivian Maier - Her Discovered Work

2010-12-30T23:38:00.000-07:00

Hello, long neglected blog.

What prompts me to break my silence is a collection of remarkable photographs that were unknown until recently. The photographer is Vivian Maier, and not much is known about her, other than what has been dug up by John Maloof, the man who bought a bunch of her photos at a rummage sale.

Maloof has been posting some of the photos, believed to number in the region of 100,000 total, on his blog.

Here are three of them that caught my attention. The first is one of several self-portraits.

Many more can be seen on Maloof's blog dedicated to Maier.

Maloof is planning a book and documentary on Maier, to which you can contribute funding by way of a pre-order.

More information:

The Wikipedia article

WTTW Chicago covered the story:

The first exhibit of some of the photos

(Thanks to Roger Ebert for a post about this earlier today.)

Vivian Maier - Her Discovered Work

Out of Sight

2010-11-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

Roger Ebert shared this via Twitter today. Completely endearing.

Roger Ebert's Journal: "Out of Sight." A magical anime

Gangsta Lorem ippzle dummy text generator

2010-10-20T20:28:00.002-06:00

Quod erat demonstrandum, fo' shizzle.

Gangsta Lorem ippzle dummy text generator

Thanks, Sarah J.!

(For those who don't know what lorem ipsum is, here's an explanation.)

Little Red Riding Hood Retold in Infographics

2010-10-04T10:18:00.000-06:00

In keeping with the theme of the last post on data visualization. I've seen this before, but someone posted it recently so I thought it deserved another viewing.

Journalism in the Age of Data

2010-10-02T15:34:00.001-06:00

I hate numbers. They have little meaning to me in themselves, and that meaning seems to decrease as the numbers of numbers increase. I also know numbers can have an impact on my life, so I love it when I can see them transformed into a brilliant visualization that brings out the meaning I can't see otherwise.

That's why I found this documentary so interesting. Through interviews with journalists, designers, programmers and others, it gives a "behind the scenes" view of the people who make data visualizations. I'm a junkie for good design and typography (I own a copy of a documentary on the font Helvectica!) so it appealed to me on that level as well.

Well worth a watch if you can spare an hour. Best viewed full screen.

Journalism in the Age of Data from Geoff McGhee on Vimeo.

(via kottke.org)

Tom Waits - Papa's Got a Brand New Bag

2010-08-19T19:04:00.001-06:00

(via @tomwaits, via @GreatDismal on Twitter)