road trip to Arlington

Greetings from the road. Ate at Obergs again – the finest dead cow west of Edmonton, in my experience, apart from what I make myself. Musical evening very fine but sparsely attended. Tom didn’t bring his six string Larrivee, curses, but Mike brought *his* so my nose got back on my face. Tori unable to attend due to school requirements. Curses. Rev Katie was there and unlimbered some lovely tunes, including ones I’d never heard before, and her wonderful autoharp which was IN TUNE o ye of little faith. I am glad her hockey game wasn’t happening that night or we’d have missed her. Yes, Rev Katie plays hockey. I can barely skate forwards and bruise if you breathe on me, so I am impressed.

Work was unholy today. Very hard to run a department on a 2/5ths complement of folks. Interesting accident that I was able to be there. Just don’t tell the border guards what I’m doing… I got a ten minute cross exam this morning, but when I pleaded a heart felt “I don’t know what the hell they want me there for sir” he let me go without looking at either my ID or my letter. Today, folks, I unpacked a little of that invisible knapsack of privilege. I guess it made a change for him from hassling coloured folks.

I shouldn’t talk about work. Had a LONG talk with one of the techs about the state of the universe, and I have to say I’m prejudiced…. I always think people are more intelligent when they agree with me, and vice versa. It doesn’t hurt if they are cute, too. Did I say that? I haven’t even been drinking!

The best part of the trip is the guilty pleasure of watching hotel TV. I come away from road trips absolutely flabbergasted at how amazingly stupid television is. I mean, I own a television and all, but I don’t have cable and at this rate never will. My daughter hates me for that, but in later times she’ll thank me for it. Tried calling home and got the answering machine. I know Keith’s at Karate, and I suppose I could call Katie on her cell; unless I miss my guess Paul is swimming and John is elsewhere, maybe at club. Sniff, my empty house.

Rental car is a Toyota Matrix. I really like the dash and the comfort level, but Jumping Jimmy Christmas, it’s like lashing a slug to make the slanty pedal achieve anything. This is counterweighed by BRUTAL BRAKES. I damned near snapped my head off its stalk the first time I applied the brakes coming out of the parking lot at Budget. Drive down was brutal as well, rain and truck backwash making the I5 an unpleasant bit of road. Seeing as how for all the other trips I’ve ever taken down here the weather has always been wonderful, I can’t complain. I just edited out a rather hilarious typo.

I’m here for another two days and then a couple of days off.

Brother J gets revenge and 2019 is pissed

A cautionary tale from my erstwhile colleague…. don’t mess with the man! It never would have occurred to me, but this seems only fair….

As you may know a few months ago my wife wife’s purse was stolen at a restaurant. Well, in the purse was my cell phone. Thank God that the purse only had $15 and my cell phone. Although, (I did take the precaution of replacing) the locks on my house and car. In the 20 minutes before I cancelled the phone, the thief called 14 people. Now he was a great thief in the fact he/she could lift a purse in a busy restaurant without anyone noticing, but he/she should know never to make an outbound call on a stolen phone. When I got my bill, I recorded the numbers he/she called. Using the internet, I found the name associated with many of the numbers called. The police did not care. (editors note … dja figure?) So— I knew that a call from a pay phone from the transit stop shows up on call display as Ottawa Transit. The plan was to call the numbers stating that I worked for transit and that we found a notebook with the list of names and numbers— Well seemed good, but everyone I called only seemed to speak Spanish—My plan failed— Then I looked at one of the calls to the Northern US. The lady seem older, perhaps mother or aunt. Now what were chances that crime runs in the family? (Editor’s note… dja figure) I called US INS. They have been looking for the family for 2 yrs to deport for theft etc—I may never find who stole my phone but I got their mother (or aunt) deported.


So anyway, from the perspective of 2019 I find this story horrifying, but I’m leaving it here as a reminder that I am a work in progress and it’s my duty not to hide my darkness. I would never laugh at this story now. I would probably say nothing or remonstrate with J. And I never mentioned it in my blog but he was married at the time – still is as far as I know – to an Indigenous woman so there’s a whole extra layer of wtf for you.