Driblets Too

Not Even My Best

2010-12-24T22:24:00.001-08:00

Plaque 0187
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

G:\MY Pictures\2010\July 2010\2010-07-09 Summer Ride 4\Edited\SUM 4 6784.jpg
A picture I took back in July has made it into the finals of a photo contest and as such has been published in their yearly collection. To say I'm flying on cloud nine would be just a bit of an understatement. For one thing, it isn't even the best (IMHO) picture I've taken this year. Still, the editor(s) of the contest liked it.

The above photo was taken about a month later and is my favorite. I call that the Day of the Dragons for I managed to get several good macro shots of three types of dragonfly that day: red, blue and gold.

While I did get many good photos of birds this year, it was the macro shots of the dragonflies that stood out in my mind.
As the year winds down a new riding season has begun with my first ride of winter on the first day of winter as recorded twice in my blog through an error on my part. It would seem that while I can still post to my blog the Powers That Be will not allow me to edit or delete entries. Whatever I post here is carved in stone. You see they've got me in a Catch-22. I cannot remember my password--too many sites, too many passwords. So they send it to my email--except it's an address I don't normally use and yep, I've forgotten that password too. Computers have already taken over the world and they are not friendly.

The Wheels Keep Turning

2010-12-23T04:48:00.001-08:00

WIN 1 0121
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Riding a bicycle in winter has nothing to do with sanity. Only an insane person would go for a ride when the temperature plunges below zero. Okay, so it was only minus eight and the sun was shining, not all that much of a plunge but you catch my drift. Still, it was well worth it and once I’d gone a kilometer or so I warmed up fairly quickly.

I seem to have hit the limits of both the bike technology (some of the plastic parts have grown brittle and snapped off—going to need major servicing eventually) and that of my camera. Neither was designed for these temperatures. The batteries in my camera lose their charge very quickly. I can cope with by taking spares and keeping them warm in an inside pocket until needed—just one of the advantages to my old camera with its disposable double A’s. Maureen's new camera with its rechargeable battery is done for when it gets too cold.

The pathway around the south end of the lake was snow covered but had been packed down by someone on a snowmobile so the riding was bumpy but tolerable. I'm down to about third gear or so for this but that's what the lower gear set's for. The real trick is to stay in the groove as it were--slip off the track and you're in a foot of powder. momentum lost.

Twas the first day of winter, shortest one of the year. All through the land sane cyclists had fled to their condos, hanging their bikes on the wall and waiting for spring. Yet out on the bike path a lone figure was seen, rolling along like all was still green. Is he insane or merely deluded? Or is it he likes to be all secluded? To enjoy solitude is to enjoy freedom, please hold the fries. So out to the bridge the pedal pusher did push, until on its near end he could plant his…

The Wheels Turns

2010-12-22T03:48:00.001-08:00

WIN 1 0119
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

...and takes us back from whence we came Just when any normal person would give it up for the year, I'm off for another ride.

Riding a bicycle in winter has nothing to do with sanity. Only an insane person would go for a ride when the temperature plunges below zero. Okay, so it was only minus eight and the sun was shining, not all that much of a plunge but you catch my drift.

Still, it was well worth it and once I’d gone a kilometer or so I warmed up fairly quickly. I seem to have hit the limits of both the bike technology (some of the plastic parts have grown brittle and snapped off—going to need major servicing eventually) and the batteries in my camera lose their charge very quickly. The latter I can cope with by taking spares and keeping them warm in an inside pocket until needed—just one of the advantages to my old camera with its disposable double A’s. My wife’s new camera with its rechargeable battery is done for when it gets too cold.

It was the first official day of winter, the shortest day of the year. All through the land the sane cyclists had fled, hanging their bikes in garages and condos awaiting the arrival of spring. Out on the bike path a lone figure was seen, rolling along like all was still green. Is he insane or merely deluded? Or is it he likes to be all secluded? To enjoy solitude is to enjoy freedom, please hold the fries. So out to the bridge the pedal pusher did push, until on its end he could plant his…

I first began building these stone markers back in March with a simple pile no more than a foot or so high. It was just my way of saying, "I was here," without actually defacing anything. What I noticed was that every week when I went back, someone had knocked my pile of rocks over. So I rebuilt it, each time adding more rocks and bigger ones. Over the course of the year it grew and even acquired a face when I brought some chalk with me. Again and again it was destroyed by parties unknown. Again and again it was rebuilt. Who is the mysterious destroyer? I have no idea but they shall not prevail...

One More Time

2010-12-15T05:16:00.001-08:00

AUT 19 0069
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Even if I do manage to get out next week for a ride, yesterday will mark the final ride of autumn. As it turned out, fall was the most productive of the four seasons: I managed fourteen rides in winter, seventeen each in spring and summer and eighteen in autumn, sixty-six so far for the year. I say so far as I haven't given up hope of getting in at least one more before the year's end. The weather has been very cooperative with the Chinooks coinciding nicely with my days off.

The temperature didn't rise more than a degree or two above freezing but I had enough layers on not to feel it. One layer to absorb the sweat, one to stay warm and one to block the wind. Speaking of wind, it started out around twenty kph and wound up gusting to thirty or so by the end but one can't expect perfect conditions this time of year. It's enough that I can even get out there at all.

It's more work than riding in summer, that's for sure. The clothing fights you, the bike fights you and traction is always an issue. In many ways it's like riding an excercise bike with the resistance turned way up. On the other hand I don't have to share my bike path with anyone else. The solitude is amazing as is the quiet.

Days's End

2010-12-09T01:45:00.001-08:00

SST 5 9940
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

The cycling season isn't quite over yet. With the extreme cold and all the snow I did have to take a week off but once it warmed up I was back out there. This was as far as I managed to get on the first attempt but on the next I made it to the wetlands area rest stop.

I've gone full circle this year, from snow and ice through spring, summer and back to snow in late fall. The view has changed over the course of sixty-five rides as has the subject matter of my photos. There isn't any wildlife left other than the odd magpie and while I could hear the geese, they were all at quite a distance.

Farewell To Flickr

2010-08-05T13:44:00.000-07:00

I cancelled my Flickr account this afternoon—they upgraded (in their opinion) the site and it is no longer of any use to me. The increased graphics and extra links slow it to the point of a complete stall. To put it bluntly, nothing works. They are obviously no longer interested in anyone still using a slow speed connection. So I will simply post my pictures here and on the Red Bubble site. When the tech boys get around to f**king up this site, it too will disappear. If something isn’t broken, why fix it? Their so-called 'improvements' have completely destroyed the utility of the site. Thanks a lot guys.

There is something in people I fear that simply will not allow them to leave anything alone. Take my stone cairns for example. Every week someone comes along and just has to knock it down; every week I build a new one. Why is it important to this unkown induhvidual that there be no pile of rocks at the end of the pathway? I have no idea, nor I suspect do they. It is simply there and therefore must be f**ked with. I find myself wishing all such meddlers could be gathered together and put in one place where they could meddle with each other and leave the rest of us alone.

It was a beautiful day for a ride though and I went a wee bit further, stretching the knee as it were. I’m still wearing a brace but it does seem to hurt less each week. This week I made it all the way to the Glenmore Inn, a total ride of just over 40 km. I did manage to see a blue heron and took a couple of low quality distant shots of him but he wouldn’t let me get close enough. Nice to know there’s one in the area though. I will keep trying as the summer continues. This was the 40th ride of 2010 and the ninth of the summer season. The adventure continues.

Second Chances

2010-07-27T18:36:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I manage to land in a cesspool and come up smelling like a rose. In spite of my recent stupidity, I somehow wound up with exactly what I wanted. I’m back in Forest Lawn again (yeah!), back on night shift (Hooraw!) and down to just four nights a week (the same four nights Maureen works). It just doesn’t get much better. Best part is I didn’t even have to eat all that much crow. Believe me when I say second chances like this do not come along every day. To this end I find myself repeating the test pilots’ prayer, “Please God, don’t let me f**k up!”

The same is true for stray cats. Over the years I have offered more than a few strays a second chance. The day we had to say goodbye to poor Odo we returned to a very empty home. When we moved in here seven years ago we had four wonderful cats; now only Max remained. So we loaded our empty cat carrier into the car and set off to the Calgary Humane Society (4455 110 Avenue SE) to see what we could find. In the end we wound up adopting two strays, one kitten (Minnie) and one six year old gentle giant named Bear. Bear is a big suck, just the kind of cat I adore. He sits on my chair (doesn’t really fit in my lap) and purrs like an approaching freight train. He loves to have his enormous belly scratched and will actually let me brush it, something no other cat liked at all—good thing since he’s a long-hair.

The riding continues--I went out Monday morning after work and while it was pleasant enough, one of the people sharing the bike path was anything but. I was busy climbing back on my bike after walking it across a roadway when this moron came blasting past me swearing like a stevadore just because I was stopped on the side and he had to go around me. Why he felt the need to ride flat out, I have no idea. Why it was such a big deal to him to have to slow down and go around me, I'll never know. What I do know is that his rudeness ruined what could have been an otherwise enjoyable ride. Thanks a lot bozo. Oh, and one other thing: the bike paths are not a racetrack and you are definitely no Lance Armstrong.

Last Cat Standing

2010-07-21T18:27:00.001-07:00

Odo 1993 - 2010 RIP
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Once opon a time there were two wonderful little kittens: Spot and T'pring. Although not littermates (Spot was six months or so older than T'pring) they soon fell in love and were allowed to mate. As soon as Spot was pregnant, T'pring was neutered for this was a once only mating. Time passed slowly and Spot grew and grew. Then one day we heard them: five little bundles of fur mewling. They were dubbd "The Little Onlies" after an old Star Trek episode. Odo was the last of these five to pass.

A Little Creepy

2010-07-11T04:34:00.001-07:00

Spidey 6875
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Sometimes life can get just a little creepy. There are times when I wonder about such things as free will and fate. Are some things meant to happen and some not? Are there forces over which we have no control directing our lives? Or is it all our own subconscious mind, bending our lives to its own agenda. I do not know nor I suspect, does anyone else. When things 'just happen' is there a reason? And when things fail to happen, is there also a reason? The more religious among us would say yes, this is simply the will of the Great Maker at work. No matter what name or form they choose to give this Great Maker, his plans are always too convoluted and mysterious for us mere mortals to comprehend. Maybe, and then again maybe not.

For most of the creatures on this planet, life is fairly straightforward as is their so-called fate. They are born (or hatched), they mate, produce the next generation and die. Everything else is simply maintenance. For humans this is never so simple. There are relationships, careers, family and our place in whatever society we choose to live in. All of these things either lead or push us in one direction or another. Where we wind up would seem to be random but is it really? All the rest of nature appears to be following a plan, why not us?

My own life has been a series of things that seemingly 'just happened' or just did not happen. If there is any master plan, the planners never let me see the blueprint. Like most people, I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I left DOMO when my knees gave out--not something I saw coming but there it was. I could no longer do the job so it was time to leave. Someone far wiser than me once said, "You can never go back." She was referring to a dead relationship at the time and she was right. Neither of us could ever go back to the way things had been. The same appears to be true when it comes to other life choices.

One can only move forward, never back. After leaving DOMO I tried going back to the familiar--the taxi. For most of my life it has been a haven to me, somewhere I could hide and do my thing. Not any more. After just four shifts back dispatching I was pulled off the board and sent home. I was angry and bitter at first but in the end I think they did me a favour--now I have no choice and must move forward. Whatever I do from here on in won't involve pumping gas or taxis. That only leaves a couple of million other options.

Fate, random chance or my own subconscious? Cannot say. Saying would be knowing. Do not know; therefore cannot say. Zathras had it right. Perhaps my life is meant to go a different direction now. Maybe someone will finally buy one (or more) of my pictures (shameless plug--the link is to your right). Either way, I know I will survivve this just as I have survived all the other twists and turns fate or random chance have tossed me.

Buzzed Again

2010-07-04T12:31:00.001-07:00

SUM 3 6180a
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Yeah, I know it's corny but those who know me will smile at least. Besides, it is a great shot and one I'm especially proud of given the way I feel about stinging insects. They scare the living bleep out of me but this guy was right there and I was already shooting the roses in macro so voila.

I really like how the macro setting allows me to get up close and personal. As with the other shots, not everything turns out. Not being able to use the viewfinder does make it hard to aim since the LCD screen is virtually invisible in the bright sunlight. So mostly I point and shoot and hope for the best--sometimes I get lucky.

Then there were the birds; red-winged blackbirds to be precise (Agelaius phoeniceus for those of you who like Latin) This pair has gotten rather used to me since I come out once or twice a week to photograph them. After I've been sitting there by the marsh for a while they relax and come quite close.

Oh, and just a shameless plug but if you do see any pics you like either here or over on my Flickr page, please remember they are my property and don't steal them. Got to my Redbubble page (follow the banner link on the right) and buy them. If they're not already posted there, drop me a line and I'll put them up.

Early Morning Ride

2010-06-24T22:39:00.001-07:00

SUM 1 5941
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

For the first official ride of the summer season I couldn't have asked for better weather. At six in the morning it was a little brisk but tolerable. The morning sun glistened off the dew-covered grass like millions of tiny jewels. As the sun climbed into the morning sky it produce some interesting reflections off a dead calm lake,

I did manage to get a rather nice shot of a female red-winged blackbird. Her mate was scolding me the whole time, swooping down in an attempt to scare me off. Since she did not move I can only assume she had a nest nearby.

A tree swallow stood guard over his nest and if you look closely you can see another bird peering out of the hole. Timing is everything when it comes to nature. Generally speaking, flowers are easier although if there's a wind blowing (and when isn't there around these parts?) they can pose a challenge.

I continue to ride as the knee continues to heal (slowly) and take pictures of everything in sight. Hopefully some of them are worth looking at.

Final Rites Of Spring

2010-06-20T22:04:00.001-07:00

It may not have been the most ambitious ride I've undertaken this year but I managed thirty kilometers never-the-less. My knee is screaming but I refuse to listen. Take two painkillers and call me in the morning. Better yet, don't call me, I'll call you.

Every time I get out to my little railway bridge I rebuild my rock cairn. For some reason it seems to be someone's mission in life to knock it down--I have therefore made it mine to rebuild it each and every time. The change in the vegetation is amazing. When I built the very first cairn back in February there was nothing green to be seen, only white and brown--it made me frown.

The sights and sounds of summer surrounded me today. Between the birds, the frogs and the insect population there was always a background synphony playing. The wetland areas seem to be full of blackbirds this year, both red-winged and yellow-headed.

Summer begins tomorrow--enjoy!

A New Beginning

2010-06-11T13:58:00.001-07:00

SUN 4 5643
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

As I end one chapter of my life, I begin another. The wheel turns (quite literally in this case) and I return from whence I came. On Sunday I will be back at Black Top Taxi for the first time in over four years. Much has changed and I will need retraining but considering how long I spent in the industry I think it'll come back to me fairly quickly.

I hobbled out to the field across the road from our place and watched the sun come up this morning. Perhaps it was an omen of good things to come for when I got home the phone rang. My old job was mine if I wanted it! So there it is--full circle. I shall be wenting back from where I wented from.

Speaking of which, I have no idea when or if my knee will let me get back on the bicycle. The last two rides were somewhat painful but I suppose it won't get any better if I don't use it. At least I'll get to give it a rest at work.

Long Awaited Captures

2010-05-19T12:35:00.001-07:00

SPR 12 4967
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

In the course of my riding I have seen many creatures, some especially elusive when it came to taking their pictures. This year my luck seems to be improving. I've managed to get quite close to several species already this year with amazing results.

Given the abundance of gophers out there it is strange that up till now I have not managed to capture one--they seldom stay put long enough for me to get the camera out. The weasel surprised the heck out of me. I was just sitting on the end of the railway bridge enjoying a snack when he suddenly appeared.

Sunrise photos are becoming a staple with my wife and I heading out to the lake together at least once a month. Last time I forgot to change out the batteries in my camera and only got a relatively few shots before it went dead--the AA's don't last all that long when it's cold.

The Red-tail Hawks have returned and circle over the golf course--good thing they haven't developed a taste for golf balls yet. The songbirds are all back and the chorus is incredible, especially in the wetland areas.
Even Wiley Coyote, a familiar sight this spring, has always bolted whenever I stopped--until now. Here he is in all his glory--not exactly the starved animal you see fruitlessly chasing the roadrunner in Saturday mornings. He is sleek, well-fed and not at all afraid of me.

The ducks and geese are everywhere, most hovering around nests waiting for their eggs to hatch. So far there appears to be only one couple with any goslings but I'm sure I'll see more in the weeks to come.

Very few flowers as yet but now that I've discovered the Macro setting I am looking forward to seeing more. Once again, this little camera amazes me.

There are far more than a mere four and twenty blackbirds to be found out there these days with all three varieties to be found in abundance.

In The Eye Of The Storm

2010-05-05T07:40:00.000-07:00

There is a calmness found in the exact center of a storm, something best exemplified by a cat sleeping--chaos may engulf the world but a nap can cure it all. I went for a couple of rides last week that were very much like that-storm clouds all around with a bubble of serenity surrounding me. Sometimes it seems my life is like that, a calm center where I exist witin a chaotic world.

Right at the moment we are back in the clutches of Old Man Winter so there won't be any riding this week from the looks of it. Yesterday the wind maxed out at 85 kph. Seeing as I ride at a maximum speed of perhaps 20 kph downhill, I would have wound up going bacwards at around 65 kph if I could have even remained upright--not an experiment I'm anxious to try.

In spite of the storm clouds there were definite signs of spring to be found. Trees are beginning to bud and there are hints of green in the dusty brown of a parched landscape. Much as I may resent the snow and not being able to get out riding there is no doubt it will do the land a world of good.

A Welcome Sound

2010-04-25T04:29:00.001-07:00

The sound of rushing water, the babbling of a brook: these are sounds I have not heard since last October when they (Western Irigation District) closed the canal off. Once more the lake begins to fill. Ducks and geese are everywhere as are the songbirds. It sounds like spring and the land has patches of green here and there.

Even this busy beaver took time out to sit on a rock and pose for me. I've caught sight of this little rodent several times both last fall and this spring but I was never quite sure if he was a beaver or a muskrat. He is indeed a beaver. The geese are beginning to get territorial with a couple of them challenging me when I got too close while others simply swam away.

Everywhere life is beginning again as the cycle (and my cycling) continues. Even though I go up and down the same pathways (more or less) every time, there always seems to be new and interesting things to photograph. I lead a somewhat charmed life though for there were storm clouds all around me yesterday but not a drop of rain hit me. Five minutes after I got back to the car the storm hit--rain, wind, sleet--it was ugly. Timing is indeed everything.

Exploration

2010-04-11T03:35:00.000-07:00

Spring Ride number five--has a nice ring to it doesn't it? Here it is only April and I'm already up to a 60 kilometer ride. This was the first time that I've gone beyond the Glenmore Inn, exploring a previously untravelled portion of the canal pathway. According to the signs, I was 22 Km from the lake when I turned around--with the trip down to my railway bridge and back around the lake it was close to my limit. The car was a very welcome sight.

There were traces of green to be found here and there and the songbirds were once again singing in the trees with a backup chorus of honking and quacking from the canal.

Everywhere I looked there were the unmistakable signs of spring. Oddly enough, it felt more like late August than early April. Everything was bone dry and the sun had an intensity to it I don't normally associate with April. The trees were all beginning to bud though, as the wheels continue to turn and the cycle of life starts over.

The snow we had on Thursday has all but disappeared, soaking into the parched soil as quickly as it melted. Next time I get out riding things should be even greener.

Sadly, not everyone seems to appreciate what a beautiful planet we live on. Someone had dumped something into a storm drain which had then drained into the canal.

Whatever this crap is, it left stains on the concrete and has discoloured the water downstream. Thanks a whole lot whoever you are--you can be proud for you have indeed left your mark.

Onward Through The Fog

2010-03-30T12:27:00.000-07:00

If you want to take pictures, get up and get out there. Sunrise pictures are still among my favourites and I have found a perfect setting for them. These were taken from the pedestrian bridge over the irrigation canal where it comes into Chestermere Lake.

Later that morning I went for the second ride of spring . The pathway is completely clear of snow, or any trace of moisture for that matter. I could hear the dry grass crunching under my tires, a sound I normally would associate with autumn, not spring. I can't help noticing the number of temperature records we've broken lately, many of which were set in 1930. If something doesn't change soon, this year has all the makings of a major drought year.

There is very little water in the canal yet almost every square inch of what there is has geese or ducks floating on it. Spring courtship rites are in full swing. The five birds up on the shore are bachelors, strutting their stuff; down on the water are all the couples.

Two by two they came...

Soulmate to soulmate...

Eventually, we find each other.

My wife and I have been together now for seventeen years and like the geese, I believe it's for life. She is my soulmate and I am hers. Whatever form the next life takes, I know we will find each other.

Rolling On

2010-03-24T06:51:00.000-07:00

March has been an incredible month for riding. Six rides so far and now that the path is finally clear of snow, some have been in excess of thirty kilometers. I managed a total of fourteen rides in winter and so far one in spring. That's right folks, it's finally spring in the Great White North.

The drifts of snow have disappeared at an alarming rate. Where I had to portage through four or five inches, the pathway is now bone dry. I hope I'm wrong but methinks this has all the makings of a drought year. There is very little gound moisture and some of the sloughs have not filled at all.

My photography also appears to be improving as more and more of my pictures are attracting kind words from other Flikr members. The Fuji FinePix continues to amaze me as does the ACD See software that came with Maureen's camera. Between the two it's almost impossible to take a bad photograph.

Spring has finally arrived! Enjoy!

The Unwilling Suspension Of Disbelief

2010-02-16T10:48:00.001-08:00

Have you noticed how little science fiction is being written these days? One by one the magazines have disappeared; Worlds Of If, Galaxy, even Amazing. The monthly newsletter of the Science Fiction Book Club features less and less actual science fiction each month and more fantasy or media derived fiction. Vampires and creatures of the night have replaced asteroid belts and hard-core rock miners.

I believe this is due in part to the unwilling suspension of disbelief. For science fiction to work, the audience must believe the events in the story to be at least possible. Sadly, it would seem even the writers can no longer do this; even they do not believe the human race will ever visit the planets of our own solar system, much less establish colonies there. The technology to go there may exist but the political will and more to the point the money, is not. Like the picture above, the future is foggy and uncertain. Few people, even hard-core science fiction buffs such as myself, really believe in space colonies or starships any more.

Enough ranting for now. The 2010 riding season continues. I managed to get out three times in January and twice so far in February. Chinooks are wonderful. The pathway is still snow-covered for some portions, especially by the tree farm but with a bit of work and low gears, it's navigable almost all the way to Heather Glen.

And So It Begins...

2010-01-12T12:12:00.000-08:00

The 2010 bike season has begun, just eleven days into the new year. A bike ride in January? Are you serious? The Chinook warmed things up and the sun was shining so I figured why not? I couldn’t get through the snow to go around the south end of the lake down to the bridge but managed to go for about three or four kilometers down the canal before the drifts defeated me. Riding in slushy deep snow is a bit like riding in mud—a whole lot of effort to move very slowly. Still, it was fun! I took a few pictures and started the season off. For the eleventh of January, it was more than enough.

The weather was fantastic, a balmy plus eight with next to no wind. The sun was shining and for some strange reason I seemed to be the only cyclist out there. I went riding right after work, a first for me and a test. Now I don't have to wait for my days off to arrive.
If the weather's decent, I can be there by three and get an hour or two in before sundown even this time of year.

Only 68 more days until spring...

Another One Bites The Dust

2009-12-29T17:06:00.000-08:00

A year ago I was in an entirely different place than I am now. I was hurt, angry and more than a little afraid. All that is past and my life has changed more than I would have believed back then. I've become a fairly good amateur photographer over the course of a couple of thousand pictures.

It’s taken four years but I am finally getting the hang of my little camera. I have gone from taking the occasional shot of the cats to going out in a field before sunrise to take pictures of same. There was still too much snow on the ground to go riding but I did take a drive out to Chestermere Lake with Maureen. We both took our cameras and went walkabout. As I hoped, her new camera has given us something we can do together.

I have found that the world is full of surprises and some of them you can catch with your camera.

When I look back at the photos I took over the course of 2009 I can see the slow but steady improvement. I am still using the AUTO function as it seems to do the job. What I take pictures of however has changed. I seem to have developed a greater appreciation of what makes a good picture. Armed with Maureen's tripod, I have even gone to the moon.

I have finally gotten over the idea that I’ll use up all my film if I take too many shots. Even at its highest resolution, the camera can take 129 shots—this morning I managed 121 before I got too cold. I had to change out the batteries once but that’s a 10 second operation.

I can’t begin to describe how much this little camera (Fuji FinePix A345) has changed my entire view of photography not to mention life. I find myself looking at the world differently now than I did a year ago—it truly is a beautiful planet. I look forward to going out and taking pictures now just for the sake of taking them. Some turn out great, some don’t. I no longer care—I just keep shooting.

Sharing my pictures online has been a good experience as well. Okay, I started the Flickr page (and this Blog) in an attempt to show someone I was ‘mostly harmless’ and no threat to her. It didn’t work—she still wants nothing to do with me. This no longer matters as the experience has been worthwhile on quite a different level. I have received positive feedback on several of my photos from people who do this for a living. Something about my picture grabbed their attention and they liked it. So I go out and take more.

I even managed one last ride on November 24--fantastic! It was brisk (no more than +3 that morning) but beautiful. I went out to my bridge one last time, a full six months after my journey began.

As always, I found new and interesting things to photograph. It's almost as if I'm starting to see the world as a series of photos just waiting for me to capture them.

The coming year is starting off better than its predecessor but will no doubt contain just as many twists and turns. One thing for sure though—I’ll be there to capture as much of it as I can with my camera. Only 82 more days until spring and my bridge is waiting--I'll be back.

Could this be the last ride?

2009-11-29T20:59:00.001-08:00

City on the horizon
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

As unbelievable as our weather has been it still came as a pleasant surprise to be out there riding on the twenty-fourth of November. When will the 2009 season be over? I have no idea. All things considered I wouldn't rule out a December ride just yet. I can always dress for the cold just so long as there's no wind. Let's hear it for global warming! If it results in milder and shorter winters, then let's get out there and burn that fossil fuel.

Of things hyped all out of proportion the so-called climate crisis is right up there with H1N1. Are you afraid yet? Watch any of the twenty-four hour news channels. You'd think people were dropping dead of the flu right and left and the bodies were stacking up in the streets the way they go on. Frankly I think you have a better chance of dying from old age while waiting in line for your shot. I seem to remember some other acronym everyone was in a panic over a few years ago--Y2K--talk about a complete nonevent. So far the drunk drivers of the world are still way out front in terms of killing people and we're just coming into their favorite season.

As for the climate change, get used to it. Adapt or die. Yes, the climate has already changed and continues to do so. Yes, it is without a doubt the direct result of manmade emissions. Is there anything we can do about it? Uh, no. Plain and simple answer is that we cannot and will not shut down all carbon dioxide emitters. Nor can carbon capture do more than scratch the surface of what's already there. The climate crisis is a crisis of talk only for no one seems willing to admit there's nothing that can be done. So they talk and as they do the carbon diozide content continues to climb, some of it no doubt due to their lengthly and pointless speeches.

It's all academic anyway since the world's going to end in 2012 according to Hollywood. Being a lover of disaster movies I have no doubt this one will wind up in our collection. As to the prediction itself, at least we won't have to wait very long to find out. Of course this means I only have two more seasons left riding. Darn! I shall miss my bridge and the adjacent pathway once the world is gone. I shall miss all the pretty girls and butterflies.

Everything alive has already either gone into hibernation or flown south except for the geese. The lake and all the little ponds are frozen. The temperature out there was a brisk +3 when I started out at 9 AM. It warmed up to maybe +6 by the time I got back to the car at noon. Still, not bad for the end of November.

Winds Of Change

2009-11-06T09:36:00.001-08:00

Arrival
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

I ventured out for yet one more ride yesterday and was struck by how much the scenery has changed from the lush green fields I rode through back in April to the barren, silent landscape of November. It was a wonderful summer and has been an incredible fall. I never dreamed I’d still be riding in November yet there I was, down at the bridge one more time. The railway bridge at the end of the pathway has become the symbol of my rides for it represents the turnaround point. I have arrived at my destination—now all I have to do is make it back.

The ride out was easy with the Chinook winds pushing me along. Coming back was another matter entirely. Even on dead level ground it’s tough to push against a forty or fifty kilometer an hour headwind. This is the price we pay for the warmer temperatures—a gusty, wicked wind from the west. According to the weather channel the gusts were in the fifty to sixty kilometer per hour range, almost but not quite enough to push me back to the lake. Needless to say the car was a very welcome sight.

Even with most of the wildlife gone and most of the crops already in, there was still a few things out there to take pictures of. The low angle of the sun this time of year makes for some great reflection shots off the lake or canal. Then there were the geese--just about the only birds left other than the odd seagul and a small flock of swans. The honking is a constant background noise--the only sound in an otherwise silent landscape. Soon they too will be on their way.

All Hallows Ride

2009-11-01T14:57:00.001-08:00

Wetlands Conservatory
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

So there it was the day before Halloween and I managed to get in one more ride. Back in August I thought the season was over yet September proved me wrong. I’m not about to declare this the final ride just yet. The forecast for my next day off is looking good so far. As long as there isn’t any snow and the temps are above zero I intend to try. What really struck me this week was how quiet it was by the wetlands conservatory. All the songbirds have long since flown south. Even the insects are gone. There was a skim of ice on what little water remained in the canal. The geese on the other hand numbered in the thousands. The field just off the bike path was a seething mass of black and gray. As always I managed to find things to take pictures of. The sky was all pastels and weird cloud formations in the background made for some interesting photos.

It has been almost exactly a year since I began this blog. Okay, so my motivations for starting it up were a bit flawed, it has still been a worthwhile venture if only for the practice it gives me at writing. As well, it’s a place to show off my best shots from my cycling adventures. Every now and then I take up the soapbox and use this space to rant. All in all it's been one hell of a year yet here I am, still kicking.

There was a definite sparcity of wildlife to be found out there this week. Where late the sweet birds sang there was onlu silence. There were geese by the thousands and even a sizable flock of swans but little else. The only patch of green left is the golf course and even they have taken to covering up the greens with plastic tarps.

A magnificent desolation was how Buzz Aldrin described the lunar surface. It wasn't quite desolation out there but it certainly had a different feel than it did back in August or even September. The temperature barely crept up to ten Celsius and the sky was overcast.

Still, for this late in October I wasn't complaining--the very fact that I could and did get out there was enough. I have fallen in love with cycling all over again this year as well as photography. Thankfully the two seem to have worked rather well together for me.

The so-called Vanishing Point is where parallel lines meet at the horizon. It is also the place where I reside, on the edge of the known in a state of confusion. The world confuses, amazes and most of all astounds me with its beauty yet is only a tiny speck awash in an infinite sea of stars and planets.

Still Riding!

2009-10-23T14:13:00.001-07:00

All the colour without the trees
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Just when I thought the season was over, the weather gods smiled on me. Indian summer, so named because the early British soldiers thought it resembled the weather in India--a wonderful surprise after last week’s blast of winter. The pathways were clear and dry and there was only a trace of mud to be found down by the weir. So off I went for one more ride. No bike shorts this time I'm afraid--thermal longjohns under the blue jeans and three sweatshirts. Still, it was a beutiful day and great to get out one more time.

I started down in Shephard just like I used to back in April. Eighty-fourth street has become too dangerous for a bicycle these days; some of the residents of our little cul-de-sac seem to figure speed limits, rules of the road and even common sense are completely optional. The other day one of them passed me while I was turning left. That’s right, he cut inside me and turned in front of me in order to gain thirty seconds, thirty seconds he then wasted at the next light. As the saying goes: the hurrier they go the behinder they get.

Everywhere they go, everything they do, they're always in a hurry. It would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that they put others at risk with their antics. If only they could slow down and appreciate the view all around them. That's what I love about the bike paths--no one's in a hurry and if the odd cyclist passes me they usually say hello as opposed to giving me the finger as they speed by.

There wasn't a whole lot in the way of wildlife out and about this week although I did manage to startle a muskrat almost as much as he did me. At first I thought it might be a beaver but he's much too small and the tail too skinny. The shot was supposed to be of the muskrat but I love the way the reflections make everything look upside down.

As always this time of year, there were thousands of geese on the lake though not very many in the air. The water level in the lake was very low and the geese were strutting about on the exposed mud flats. The noise was a bit like being stuck in rush hour traffic--a constant unending honking. I caught the sound of swans as well and was lucky enough to photograph them, albeit from a considerable distance.

There are days when I pine for a telephoto lens but it would be impractical to carry while cycling so that's life I suppose. Between dumb luck at being in the right place at the right time, the inherent abilities of my little camera and the imaging software I am only now learning how to use the pictures continue to improve. Some of the feedback I've been getting has been very encouraging.

Pictures of the old truck on the MacKenzie Century Farm have garnered quite a bit of attention, so much so that I felt compelled to go back and snap a bunch more. Sadly, they're not quite as impressive without the green grass.

Never-the-less I have plenty to play around with. It amazes me what the software can do with a bit of tinkering. Old trucks and sepia tone seem to go together--I'm not sure which I like best in this case though.

Either one could serve as a greeting card:

Autumn Flight

2009-10-16T09:37:00.001-07:00

There was simply too much crystalline dihydrogen oxide laying about for me to go riding this week. So I drove out to the lake and went walkabout instead. As always, I managed to find a few things to take pictures of. This has been the year of the hawks for me and this day was no exception. I particularly like the way the trees frame this shot and focus your attention on the bird.

As well as the hawk there were geese by the thousands. As I was walking beside the canal they flew over me. The noise was incredible: wave after wave of them coming in for a landing on the lake.

By the time I returned, the lake was covered in geese. If the snow on the ground wasn't enough of a clue for you, the gathering flocks spell it out. Winter is coming!

Take heart though. There's only 156 more days until spring...

October Skies

2009-10-01T17:51:00.001-07:00

I did it! I managed one more ride and in October no less. It was a bit chilly but after about ten kilometers or so it wasn't so bad. Hard to believe the weather is still this nice--harder still to believe I actually felt up to the ride a mere five days after they yanked the last of my teeth out. I am now officially old since I already have bifocals and cannot stand today's music. The new teeth not only look better but actually hurt less than the factory issue ones did.

I didn't bother to make my usual stop at Tim Horton's on the way back this time--teeth aren't quite up to one of their sandwiches yet let alone a donut. Next time, if there is a next time this season. The wonderful thing about the weather here is you never know. This is also the terrible thing about the weather here. You pay your dime, you take your chances. Here's hoping we have one of those mild winters Calgary is famous for.

I was hoping to get more pictures of the trees in all their splendor. No chance. The prairies winds had done their job and those leaves were halfway to Saskatchewan. Skeletal trees dotted the landscape where only last week all the colours of the spectrum blazed. Even the canal had all but dried up.

It wasn't exactly cold but there was a definite bite to the air that declared summer a distant memory and winter a foreboding vision. The endless cycle of life continues and one season follows the other. Still, I have my favourites and winter is no longer one of them.

Autumn on the other hand, does have its merits so long as the snow doesn't cover everything up. There was a time in my life when winter meant skiing but those days are long gone. Now it's just that cold miserable season when everything hurts. Only 171 more days until spring...

Not Quite Over

2009-09-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

I have the best boss in the world. When I pointed out to him that the weather on Wednesday (September 23) was going to be far too nice to waste on work, he agreed and gave me the day off to go riding. So off I went for one more visit to my favourite bridge. A fifty-five kilometer round trip on an absolutely gorgeous fall day. Who could ask for anything more?

Though it was warm and the skies cloudless, the crunching of the leaves under my tires left no doubt summer was over. The evidence was all around me. Still, the beauty of the lake drew me on and the open path beckoned--just one more time before the snow flies again in the Great White North.

There wasn't much in the way of wildlife this time, just a few geese and one napping squirrel. The trees on the other hand more than made up for it with explosions of colour all around. The ones right along the canal were the best with their reflections in the still water.

I have grown as a cyclist this summer, working up from just a few laps around the park back in April to my final marathon rides. I have also grown as an amateur photographer. I have taken hundreds of pictures this summer and some are what I call keepers. The hawk pictures blew my mind as did the fireworks. I had no idea this little camera was capable of such things. Now, after four years I am finally beginning to learn how to use it and what makes a photograph work.

I began this blog as an attempt to rekindle an old friendship. That didn't work out but the blog itself has persisted and developed a life of its own as has my Flikr page. My bike rides and subsequent photographs are reason enough for both to continue. The old friend and I are probably both better off without each other anyway. The journey isn't over yet by any means and as I go further with each ride, I take better photographs. Perhaps in time I will improve my writing as well.

Out of the East

2009-09-20T16:02:00.001-07:00

Even as the last days of summer disappear into the west, another day and a new season are born in the east. Tomorrow is the first day of autumn. I can truly say that I have spent the entire summer on the bike. It's been quite a journey both in the physical distance travelled and the inner peace I found there.

The exertion required clears my mind and frees it to consider the world around me instead of the world of CNN. The hawk circling in the field becomes more important than the latest Great Fear they would have me worry about. The smells, sounds and even the taste in the air have marked the changing seasons. I began this journey in the spring and for the moment have ended it in the fall. I began it in anger and have ended it at peace.

On Friday I have to go in to get the last of my teeth extracted so it's doubtful I'll feel much like riding for a while. This is Calgary however and anything's possible as far as October's weather goes. Maybe there will be more to this saga.

Some people think they have to travel vast distances to 'get away from it all.' In all, I rode no more than fifty to sixty kilometers each time I went out yet I still managed to put it all behind me with each stroke of the pedals. The world beyond the bike path simply did not exist. For four hours every week I escaped. It's not where you go so much as how you get there.

On Golden Fields

2009-09-11T16:26:00.001-07:00

Once more I ride down the dirt road beside the canal to the railway bridge. I look down and see tire tracks in the hardened mud. I smile, for they are my own from last month when I came out just after the rain. I've spent the entire summer out here on my bicycle. If today was the last ride of the season then so be it. Every warm day we get now is a bonus and when it happens to coincide with my day off—fantastic!

It was windy today which makes the ride easier one way or at least that's the theory. Actually it somehow managed to blow against me both ways, a phenomenon I have noticed in the past. Not quite sure how that works--probably just proves the weather gods have a sense of humour. For this time of year though, it was a beautiful day and a great ride.

The skies were once again full of Red-tailed hawks and I was quick enough with the camera to catch a few shots. I have noticed their numbers seem to be on the rise, no doubt a reflection of the increased gopher population. There was enough wind today for them to soar in place as it were.

Where have all those lazy days of summer gone? Into the west, never to return...

As summer gives way to fall, green fades to brown but not all at once. Some crops mature faster than others, producing bands of colour. All summer long the Canola fields lent their bright yellow to the mix. Prairie grasslands have a beauty all their own, one I have come to love. There's something magical about a horizon that just goes on forever.

The cycling has given me a closeup view of the prairie, one far better than what can be seen from a speeding automobile. I have smelled the crops as they grew, heard the birds overhead and felt the winds blow unchecked from horizon to horizon. So into the west goes another day, never to return but it was a good day for all that.

One More Time

2009-09-02T14:56:00.001-07:00

Caught these pictures of what I think is a red-tailed hawk out on the bike path by Heather Glen golf course. For some reason he was completely unafraid and posed for me. Once more I am impressed by my tiny digital camera. This has been a wonderful summer for me and I've managed to take some incredible photos.

The Last Ride of Summer

2009-08-31T04:14:00.001-07:00

This morning will be the last official ride of the summer. Oh, I know the season doesn’t actually end for another three weeks but for me it’s always been autumn once we hit September. No doubt this goes back to when I was in school and September was the end of summer vacation. Still, the signs are there. The fields are golden now and all too soon summer will be nothing more than a memory.

Autumn was always exciting on the university campus, a time of new beginnings and old friendships. The place was so full of people you could hardly move and yet by January the corridors were empty. Tomorrow I won’t be going back to school; those days are long gone. Instead it’s back to work, trying hard not to resent the fact that my wife is still on vacation.

I managed to end my holiday with a bang--enjoying the International Fireworks Festival held annually at Elliston Park. We have a pretty good view of the events from our front lawn except for the streetlights in the park. On the last night of the festival I went out into the field just south of where we live with a tripod and got some amazing shots. I say amazing because I don’t have one of those big expensive cameras with all the lenses. I just have this tiny little digital that fits in my pocket. Without the light pollution in the park and with the tripod to steady it, the auto function was using a full half second exposure as compared to the .002 seconds it uses for outdoor shots in the daytime. I learned this after the shots were taken by examining the properties file. I just point, click and trust in the technology.

We tried a new restaurant this summer with most pleasing results. Chestermere Landing Steak House has been around for a while but we'd never been there before. Trust me it was well worth the trip (all of 10 Km from our door). The food's great, the view from the patio is awesome and the people are friendly. We will be back!

It's been a great summer and the riding is by no means over. How long I'll be able to wear just bike shorts and a tee shirt--that's another question entirely. Sometimes winter comes early around here and some years we get an Indian summer, a phenomenon by the way that has nothing whatsoever to do with the First Nations. Here's hoping!

Mommy! It's Over...

2009-08-24T12:21:00.001-07:00

Another year and another ConVersion has come and gone. We touched base with old friends, nodded in passing to familiar faces and wondered about those who were absent. ConVersion twenty-five is the eleventh con Maureen and I have attended. We started with number fifteen back in 1998, way back when people were just beginning their pointless panic over something being dubbed as Y2K—talk about a wet firecracker.

This year we were back at the Metropolitan Center right in the heart of Calgary's downtown. Oddly enough it felt like we had come home. ConVersion had been here before and it always felt right to me. Perhaps because it’s all con people when we’re here. Not being a hotel we don’t have to share our space with norms, muggles, mundanes or whatever term you prefer for "the others."

Con people are what we are: comfortably different. Now go away, we’re in the middle of a really good book. At any time during the con people could be seen sitting around the lobby reading quietly, some in costume some not. For me it's always been the Dealer's Room where I can see all kinds of neat stuff and pick up some old Astounding or Analog magazines. This year I was able to fill in several gaps in my collection and help my favourite bookseller to keep coming back.

Terry Brooks and Robert Sawyer have both been Guests of Honour before and packed the rooms wherever they went. I managed to get Robert to sign my copy of Rollback, the only novel of his I didn’t already have signed. It’s a great read and I for one would love to trade places with the lead character. Enough said, go buy your own copy.

All in all, a great weekend was had by all and the only note of sadness is the long wait until next October and ConVersion XXVI.

The Folly Of The Rings

2009-08-20T08:37:00.001-07:00

Wetlands
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

This is what the land currently being used to construct the eastern portion of Stoney Trail used to look like. Unspoiled and a habitat for all kinds of birds. Not any more. The swamps and sloughs have all been filled in as a new freeway rises out of the dust and clamour.

For once again our city is attempting to build a ring road. Sound familiar? It should—over the years there have been numerous attempts to circumnavigate our fair city. None have been in any way successful. The problem is the developers. As soon as plans are announced, they buy up the land on either side of the proposed route and start building subdivisions. By the time said road is completed, you have traffic lights and another South Deerfoot on your hands.

On the eastern front, you have a freeway that goes from Country Hills Boulevard in the north and then just ends at 17 Ave SE in the south. That’s right, folks! It goes from the middle of nowhere to nowhere. Far from alleviating traffic problems, it will create a whole new set of them. All of the southbound traffic will have to go over to 84 St or somehow make their way back to Deerfoot Trail, doubling or tripling the amount of traffic on 17 Avenue SE.

Ring roads simply do not make sense in Calgary. They never have and never will. The city simply grows too fast. The lag between drawing up the plans for a ring road and actually executing them is too long. By the time it’s finished, your new ring road doesn’t go around anything—it goes right through the middle.

Hardly worth draining the wetlands for now is it?

A Very Long Walk Home

2009-08-18T07:56:00.001-07:00

Trail's End
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

This is where I was yesterday when my front tire went flat. Okay, so the tire was eleven years old, had many many miles on it and owed me nothing. I still felt betrayed and I still had a very long walk home.

Once I got back to the town of Chestermere Lake my fortunes changed for I ran into a kind gentleman who threw my bike in the back of his truck and drove me to my door. I have no idea who he was for oddly enough we never introduced ourselves. Whoever he was, he took time out of his day to rescue a total stranger. Thank you sir! You have just earned a heaping helping of good karma.

Needless to say I was off to the bike shop and now have two spanking new tires. With any luck I can enjoy the rest of this biking season without further incident.

Re-cycling

2009-08-11T07:30:00.001-07:00

This summer I rediscovered my bicycle and my love of riding. Scenes like this are why. It's eight o'clock on a Monday morning and the rest of the world is still busy commuting as I arrive at the lake, ll Km from where I parked the car. {See map at http://www.maps.worldweb.com/VisitorMap.html?lti=1&lli=240623}

I would like to thank the Municipal District of Rockyview for maintaining the canal pathway and to the Western Irrigation people who built the canal in 1906. A lot has changed in the area since then but as you can see in the photo above, some of the original homesteads are still around.

After going around the south end of the lake I continued my ride down the gravel trail beside the canal. About 7 Km east of the lake the trail ends at a country road where I came across the Clayton Family Farm, homesteaded in 1901 just five years before the canal was built. I wonder how they feel about the ever expanding suburbia lurking just over the horizon. I know I always feel a certain sadness when I have to go back.

To know solitude is to enjoy freedom!

2009-07-29T08:07:00.001-07:00

Lakefront Solitude
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Many years ago I first encountered this philosophy on a poster. The concept runs counter to what most people seem to feel. The majority of people find solitude oppressive and boring. Being alone with their thoughts is uncomfortable. I find it the ultimate in relaxation.

No television, cell phones or even other people to disturb the beauty of the moment. Cycling has always given me this, for I ride alone. Others would only destroy the mood for me. Total freedom and the time in which to enjoy it.

Our society in general has moved away from this. Most people simply must be 'in touch' all the time. Text messaging while driving, walking and even sitting on the toilet has become normal with somewhat predictable results. People cannot and will not allow themselves to be cut off from others for even a second. Why? What is it about their constant interaction with others they find so vital?

I must confess I don't get it. The world around me has always had more to offer than a phone conversation or text message. Turn off your phones people--look around! Let the silence and yes, the solitude set you free! Sounds corny I know but it's true. Far from making our lives easier, these devices have only added virtual chains around our collective ankles binding us to our jobs, friends and family.

So use that 'Off'' button now and then. Enjoy a little solitude and you just might find freedom.

It's Still a Beautiful World

2009-07-09T11:53:00.001-07:00

Bluebell
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

It's been over two months since Sarek went walkabout. The universe did not end. Spring eventually came and who knows? We may yet see summer although time is definitely running out. Yesterday it was warmer in Whitehorse than Calgary.

The world is still a beautiful place and it's wonderful to be alive enjoying it. Some things in my life have worked out rather well while others have not. I never did manage to sell any of my stories and eventually stopped writing them. That's right folks, I'm not a writer, just a reader.

On that front my vision has almost returned to normal and I am once again able to sit and enjoy a good book. Back in December my eyes were damaged during an assault at the gas station where I work. I have been assured that no permananet damage was done--sure did hurt though. Bruising someone's fist with your eye socket is not something I'd recommend to anyone.

In spite of what happened then and all the BS that has followed I still thing it's a good life. I look around and see most of the things that are important to me are still here. Cats (and people) have come into my life, stayed for a while and moved on. All have enriched my life in some way. I still have their pictures and all the fond memories they stir.

Maybe that's what life is all about in the end: photographs and memories. The collection grows as we age until it's all there is. If so, it's up to each of us to amass as beutiful a collection as we can. The beauty is out there. All we have to do is take the time to capture and remember it.

Sarek: Gone Walkabout 2009

2009-05-05T14:05:00.001-07:00

Sarek: Gone Walkabout 2009
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

It's funny how you can know something is coming and try to prepare yourself for it only to get sandbagged in the end. Sarek's age and ailing health were no secret to me yet having to finally make the decision and put him down hit me like a ton of bricks. For the last week I've been riding an emotional roller coaster wondering if I was doing the right thing for him or for me. He quit eating and I felt I had no choice: I simply could not and would not stand by and watch him slowly starve to death. We made the final journey to the vets this morning and Sarek went walkabout. Fair winds and blue skies my old friend. You will be missed.

Doris Day Was Right!

2009-04-24T09:23:00.001-07:00

Chinook Cloudiness
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

A long time ago Doris Day had her own television show and the theme song was Que Sera, Sera or Whatever Will Be Will Be. She was so right; there are some things you can change and some you cannot. I am both a notorious fence sitter and a worryer. I second guess myself constantly and even after events are in motion, fret about the outcome.

Why? No good reason since the outcome is seldom if ever affected one way or the other. It all comes down to the philosophy laid down in the Desiderata. Change what you can, accept the rest and move on.

Lately we've all seen the buses telling us not to worry since there "probably" is no God and thus (presumably) no one we have to answer to for the way we have lived our lives. I still find their use of the word "probably" amusing since I have since seen buses with the simple declarative that God loves you even if you don't believe. No "probably" here, just a simple declaration.

No, I have not sudenly found religion but at the same time I have not joined the other camp just yet. The plain and simple fact is I don't know. Fate, free will, predestination: all food for thought but no one can really come to any solid conclusions any more than we can reliably predict earthquakes. In the case of eathquakes, being able to predict them is also not enough--you also have to get people to believe you.

Whatever will be, will be.

On The Road Again

2009-04-07T13:24:00.001-07:00

Seasonal Transportation
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

My newly repaired butt and I are back in the saddle again as it were. Yesterday I went for the second bicycle ride of the year. Okay, I didn’t go very far—just around the park where I live but I did do five laps or the equivalent of four miles. I am looking forward to hitting the bike paths as much as I can this summer now that I can sit down on a bike seat once more.

This has been an interesting year so far and I mean that in the fullest sense of the Chinese curse for I do seem to find myself living in interesting times. Not everyting is bad but neither has it all been good. That which does not kill you may very well make you stronger but before it does it can hurt you, a lot. While pain itself can be and often is educational, no one ever claimed it was pleasant.

The pain I went through after surgery turned out to be worth it for the area no longer hurts at all. Only time will tell if I come out of the rest of this year feeling it was all worth it or not.

Inside Looking Out

2009-02-27T10:57:00.001-08:00

Jack's Artwork
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

I just had the doctors give my butt a facelift. If you've ever had hemorrhoidal surgery, you know that all a person can do about it is make jokes. That, and wait for their butt to stop hurting. If you haven't had the experience, take Captain Kirk's advice and start eating that fibre. Then maybe you won't have to be the butt of the joke.

As the above picture shows, I can't even spend my time looking out the window, at least not this one. It's was about minus twenty out there when I took this and Jack Frost had laid down quite a pattern. Crystals have always fascinated me. They way they grow on a windowpane in the case of frost or in solution within a chemistry lab makes them seem almost alive as they blindly follow the laws of physics. I wonder sometimes if our lives aren't a lot like that: their final shape and configuration already laid down before we're even born.

Free will seems to fly in the face of this but still I wonder. Could there not still be some framework or structure incorporated into our very DNA that determines who we meet and even who we will bond with? The computer dating people seem to think so. They spend a lot of time trying to isolate characteristics in their clients and match them up. Perhaps all they are doing is purifying the solution and adding the seed crystal. The rest is quite literally just chemistry.

I've been lucky in that regard for I found my way despite several wrong turns and wrong ingredients. Eventually I found the right mix and my life took shape. My wife says this is because we are soulmates and were meant to be together. I would never argue with her on that point. I still can't help thinking there's more going on here though.

Then again, if all the poets in the world have yet to explain love, what chance do I have? Explanations can wait. For now I'm simply glad to be living here at this time in this place with her. The solution has been found!

Published at Last

2009-02-22T14:51:00.001-08:00

Heartland Cafe
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

I finally managed to get published! Well, sort of. A picture I took of the Heartland Café has been selected for inclusion in Schmap Calgary Sixth Edition Okay so it's not a novel or even a short story but it is something I did. I'll never be a professional photographer any more than I'm all that likely to become a professional writer. So what? Photography like writing, has its own rewards.

Photos are tiny slices of time and as such stir memories of where and when they were taken. Years ago I had a roommate who was a big fan of health food. Since I was a junk food junkie at the time he felt obliged to change my diet. The Heartland Cafe was one such effort. Neither of us had a car at the time and it was within walking distance.

I did eventually wean myself from the junk food but never did embrace health food diets the way he did. On the other hand I'm still here, sucking in air under my own power and taking up space. Like the cafe, we carry on as best we can amidst a changing world. It's a good photo and the memories attached to it are fond ones.

I used to joke that if it weren't for flashbacks I'd have no memories of the seventies. A bit of an exageration but there are large portions of that decade that are just a wee bit fuzzy. The few photographs I have from that period are precious to me even if I did not take them. Only since the advent of digital cameras have I had any interest. I like being able to shoot and print the picture in the same day or just leave it to clutter up the hard drive. If nothing else they can always be used for a screensaver.

A Future we can believe in

2009-02-20T10:56:00.001-08:00

Trek Carving
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Canadian politics have (thankfully) gone back to their usual boring state that we can blissfully ignore. With one stooge removed from the act, the others seem willing to behave themselves for the moment. Of course this might just be because the eyes of the world are opon them with America's president in town.

As I watched Barackomania sweep Ottawa I was left wondering is this has ever happened before. Has there ever been an American president this popular? Sadly yes. Once before there was a young and vigorous president that everyone loved. Then there was a fateful Dallas morning. What might America have become had JFK lived? We’ll never know but one thing is clear: popularity with the people does not mean everyone loves you or that no one means you any harm.

Even JFK did not inspire this kind of enthusiasm in Canada however. The cheering and the sheer size of the crowd might well have suggested it was a rock star making an appearance rather than a president. Certainly the previous holder of that office never enjoyed this kind of reception when he came to visit. Maybe President Obama will in fact bring us change we can believe in. He won’t be the first to promise it but he may very well be the first the majority of the people believe can deliver it. I only hope the secret service can keep him alive long enough to see it.

Probably Not

2009-01-29T11:45:00.001-08:00

Sandy 1978 - 1996
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Cats were once worshipped as gods and they've never gotten over it. Sandy had all the arrogance of a Siamese but the colouration of who knows what else mixed in. Beautiful blue eyes and a fierce loyalty to me. She was an abused cat a friend of ours rescued and I adopted in 1988. She lived to be eighteen.

Speaking of gods, I ‘probably’ shouldn’t watch the news; nor should anyone else for that matter; it’s simply too depressing. Every now and then though, there is something that catches my eye and makes me go hmm. A group of so-called atheists are apparently trying to publicize their cause by placing ads on the sides of buses all over the world proclaiming that there is ‘probably’ no God. What I find interesting is their use of the word ‘probably.’ If I were to ask anyone from just about any of the recognized religions whether or not there is a God, their answer would be a simple declarative sentence: Yes, there is a God. They are not interested in probabilities, for them it’s a matter of faith. Thus it would appear the Atheists are not so secure in their beliefs after all. Perhaps they would be better to call themselves Agnostics until they are.

You see the problem you get into in any such a discussion is proof. You cannot prove the existence of God but (and here’s the part that hangs these so-called Atheists up) there is no way to disprove the existence of God either. For the faithful, this is no problem for they do not require proof; their belief is enough. For the others however it is a real problem for they like to think they are living in a rational world where everything happens for a reason and the universe follows certain fixed natural laws. God by his very nature is not constrained by these laws, therefore he cannot exist or so they reason. Problem is, reason is not proof and they are forced to fall back on the word ‘probably.’ As such, they’re certainly entitled to their opinion. After all, we’ll find out in the end who’s right or wrong soon enough and until then we ‘probably’ should get on with our lives.

Speaking of which, it’s nice to see that the new leader of the Liberal Part is getting on with life instead of the silly coup his predecessor was attempting. Bide your time and act responsibly and who knows? Perhaps the voters will like you enough to make you Prime Minister some day, perhaps not. Either way, it’s refreshing to see a politician take the high road. Now I think it’s time I went back to the Comedy Network where things make sense.

My Playground

2009-01-26T13:52:00.001-08:00

City Sunset
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

This used to be my playground or at least that was how I thought of it at the time. There was a time when I knew every road and back alley in Calgary. You see I used to play a little game called Taxi. Oh, I know, I was supposed to be earning a living at it but in truth I was always better at playing Taxi than making any great amount of money at it. I did better than some and not so well as those who took it seriously. On the other hand, few if any drivers had more fun. Taxiland may not have been perfect but it was Paradise to me.

I had occasion to go downtown recently for the first time in several years. Guess what? They went and paved Paradise and put up a parking lot. Calgary has changed so much in the years since I quit driving I hadly recognize it any more. I wisely chose to ride the train and leave my car behind that morning. Not only was it faster and cheaper but it allowed me the luxury of gawking about like a tourist.

Where once the mighty General Hospital stood and fell, there are now some of the ugliest condominiums in existence. Even the old General with its aging brick and crumbling mortar had more style. From the train they look like prison blocks. I honestly cannot imagine living like that but obviously they appeal to some people for they do sell and at an outragious price too.

In the city core the building crane is still very much alive in spite of the depression everyone is calling something else. I suspect some of these projects will die uncompleted just as their counterparts did back in the early eighties when the first oil boom ground to a halt. Booms are always followed by a bust and this latest one is no exception. All any of us can do is wait for the whole thing to swing back the other way. The politicians will offer us a New Deal just as they did in the thirties but in truth they have no idea how to fix the economy. It will fix itself but there may very well be a long tough decade ahead of us before it does. Here's hoping we can manage it without a world war this time!

The Path of Least Resistance

2009-01-16T11:32:00.001-08:00

If you go out in the woods today...
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Just as Robert Frost had many a mile to go, my life has already travelled far too many miles. As for how many I have yet to go, who knows? As I approach the dreaded speed limit of 55 I have to look back and say I did not travel the same path as everyone else but neither did I strike out on my own and create any new paths.

Instead, I travelled the path of least resistance, whichever way that seemed to be the easiest at the time. A lazy man's approach to life I admit but I never quite got lazy enough to cheat or steal. I might as well have in so far as my social status went though. In fact, I might have enjoyed more status as a successful theif than I did as a cab driver but I never developed any interest in politics.

The amusing part in so far as I'm concerned is the degree of success I have enjoyed despite this apparent lack of effort. I say apparent lack of effort for it has often turned out over the years that avoiding work can take more effort than the work itself. I am by nature a professional procrastinator. I put things off until in most cases they no longer matter and can be safely forgotten.. After all, why do today what can be put off until tomorrow? Sometimes this works and sometimes it results in more work. Oh well. I never said it was a perfect plan, just an easy one.

Yet here I am, in my own home with a wife I adore and who seems to not mind having me around most of the time. I work for the best people in the world [DOMO] who treat me like a king. They have stood behind me through all of the last three years I've been there and continue to do so. I've never worked for better people. Somehow the path of least resistance seems to have done better by me than the school of hard knocks ever could or would have.

We're Not Worthy!

2008-12-25T01:33:00.001-08:00

My Three Ladies
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

Sometimes I think I’m not worthy of the life I lead. Right now my life is the best it’s ever been despite some recent setbacks. I sat in my step-daughter’s living room this morning surrounded by good wishes and not a little sympathy for my recent ordeal. Watching the grandchildren unwrap Christmas presents, I started thinking of a line from Wayne’s World: “We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy!” In so many ways I ‘m not worthy of this life, yet here I am. I suspect I may not be alone in this feeling, so might I suggest we all try to be just a little more worthy of those people who love us in the coming year? I know I’m sure going to try! A very Merry Christmas to anyone else foolish enough to follow this blog. May the next year prove us all worthy of our friends and family!

A Rare Find

2008-12-18T10:52:00.001-08:00

It was December of 1931 when this issue of Astounding hit the newsstands. My father was sixteen and I wasn't even a gleam in his eye yet. The Great Depression had been going on for close to two years. For someone to fork out twenty cents, this magazine had better be good. Science fiction was new and not even on the title yet. They were simply Astounding Stories.

I read this one from cover to cover and what struck me the most was the optimism. That's right, optimism in the middle of the Great Depression. Writers of the day were hopeful. They were convinced technology and mankind's persistence could and would solve any problem.

This was of course long before the cable news networks took to scaring the bejesus out of us on a daily, then hourly basis. Be afraid, be very afraid. Global warming, global politics, global terrorism: it all amounts to ratings. They equate fear with viewers and sadly, they're right. When big events happen, we watch. When we're bored and channel surfing, we watch. If there's a car chase going on we stay, especially if it involves a white SUV.

Back then heroes were honest and upright. They solved problems and did the right thing, every time. They were true to their family, their country and their mission. Alien invasions were simple: we had the planet, they wanted it. They must be and will be stopped. The professor will find the solution in the nick of time, his daughter will be saved by the dashing young hero and all will be well in the universe. Maybe I'm just a sucker for happy endings but I love this stuff.

Many years ago a professor I was taking a course from asked me which I thought provided a better escape from reality; drugs or literature? I'm sure he picked me because he had caught a wiff of the herb on me more than once. I think it surprised him however when I answered "literature" without hesitation.

You see, drugs don't actually allow you to escape reality--all they do is distort it. Harlie, a self-aware computer in When Harlie Was One by David Gerrold scrambled his inputs in an attempt to simulate getting high, something he had observed his creator doing. It did not allow him to escape reality any more than it does for humans. A good book on the other hand can present you with an entirely new reality, something even Harlie would have agreed with. I only wish I could devour entire libraries the way he could.

A Science Fiction Life

2008-12-16T12:46:00.001-08:00

I have lived a science fictional life.

By this I don’t mean I’ve surrounded myself with futuristic gadgets or wear a tin foil hat to ward off space aliens (never works anyway).

What I mean is that my choice of reading material has been almost exclusively science fiction since I was about ten. The first science fiction novel I can remember clearly was Rocket Jockey by Lester Del Rey. I seem to recall choosing it as much because of the word ‘jockey’ in the title as ‘rocket.’ This was probably because I had just finished reading Walter Farley’s Black Stallion series. I devoured everything by Del Rey that I could get my hands on then moved on to the other science fiction writers I found next to him in the local library. From that day until now I have very seldom strayed from the genre.

My alphabet soon consisted of Asimov, Bova, Clarke and others up to and including Zelazny. I went through them all, renewing old friendships over the years and discovering new ones. I soon outgrew the public library and began my own. Then I found Analog. Here was a monthly publication dedicated to science and science fiction. I was in heaven. I bought my first issue in the summer of 1968 and have tried very hard not to miss any since. A few years back I started attending the local science fiction convention (ConVersion) and discovered the dealer’s room.

If you’ve never been to a con, the dealer’s room is where booksellers, artists and others put theirs wares on display: everything from books to jewelry and even chain mail for teddy bears. It is by far and away my favourite part of any con. Once a year I get to go crazy, spend a whack of money and buy all kinds of neat stuff. I started picking up old issues of Astounding, the predecessor to Analog.

Working my way back from where I had started buying them in 1968, I filled in the gaps on my list each year and the collection grew. I now have most of the 50’s and 60’s, a smattering of 1930’s and ‘40’s along with all of the seventies, most of the eighties and everything from 1990 until now. Every year I go armed with my list and find a few more. Problem is, the magazine began publication in 1930 so there are a lot to collect and of course the older they are the harder they are to find and the more they cost. They are in many ways a history of the genre for writers write what sells and for almost eighty years the goal of a lot of the very best science fiction writers out there has been to get published in Astounding/Analog magazine.

Thus the editorial staff of this magazine (along with others) have shaped the genre. For many years this was John W. Campbell Jr. He decided what was and what was not science fiction, a term he himsel coined, feeling the term 'scientifiction' put forward by Hugo Gernsback (then editor of Amazing Stories) was too cumbersome. So science fiction it became and John Campbell became the father of this new fictional genre. From the thirties right into the sixties he directed and shaped science fiction by deciding what did and what did not meet his publication needs. Writers may be free to write what they want but editors determine what gets published.

Nomads and Settlers

2008-12-12T11:39:00.001-08:00

Feeding time at the zoo
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

A house without a cat is not a home. I’ve always believed this and it has more or less determined where I lived over the years.

Apartments are for people on the move, modern nomads. All through history there have been settlers and nomads. Settlers stay in one place, driving in roots and building their lives where they are. Nomads carry their lives with them wherever they go, either on their backs or in a suitcase. Settlers live in houses; nomads prefer apartments or condominiums. I am without doubt a settler for I have never actually lived in an apartment or a condo. Nomads also tend to move often, constantly seeking a better location in which to live; I am at present living in only my sixth (and with any luck, final) address. Next stop, shady acres.

As we go through life it dumps loads of crap on us from time to time. Digging ourselves out with or without the help of others helps to shape our lives and determine who we are. The same can be said of writing. A good story or novel is one in which the main character has a load of crap dumped on them and the shovels are all on the other side of the forest and well hidden. How well the character copes with the challenges and how digging themselves out from under changes them determines what is and what is not a good story. Good stories fundamentally change their main characters and leave them improved by the end of the tale. A professor once told me that what sets literature apart from other works is what they say about being human.

Just as all the twists and turns of life shape who we become, plot twists must determine who the main character becomes. The character must undergo some fundamental change by the end of the story. In quest fiction there is usually an object that must be recovered in order to save the day. Once this is accomplished, all will be well. While on the quest, various loads of crap will be dumped on the protagonist's head and shovels will be hidden along the way. By overcoming these obstacles the main character becomes stronger and better able to cope with future crap. At the end of the quest they are changed, improved in some way that ties in with the overall theme of the story.

Stories written for children usually contain some kind of lesson or moral. The main character discovers something about themself that makes them a better or more mature person by the end of the story. In other words, they learn something. Mark Twain was fabulous for creating characters who were basically ignorant of most of the everday facts the rest of us take for granted. By allowing them to learn and discover the things that everyone else already knows, he casts these widely held beliefs into doubt. Things that everyone knows are 'just so' are revealed to be anything but. In this way he makes the reader grow along with his main character.

In this sense nomads make better characters that settlers for they are used to change and able to adapt to new situations quickly. Settlers tend to like life to be predictable and get upset when it is not. Nomads accept an ever changing world and chafe at static societies. The conflict between the two lifestyles can and often does provide material for the writer. In real life, sttlers and nomads seldom get along all that well and one almost never changes into the other. In fiction however, one is free to extrapolate explore what happens when the two attempt to trade places.

Nomads are dismal failures as settlers and settlers are never happy on the move. Conflict and resolution are the building blocks of any good story. Forcing your main character into a lifestyle not their own and watching them cope can be instructive as well as entertaining Allowing for change is what makes a story work. If by the end of the story your main character has become something they are not however, the whole thing falls apart. People tend to change in little ways, not abandon their entire way of life to embrace another. No nomand will ever be happy settling down any more than a settler enjoys moving around all the time. In the end the sttler will always be left behind as the nomad moves on.

Love can conquer all and in fiction this is certainly true. Nomads and settlers fall in love all the time and one or the other takes up a lifestyle not their own. Most times it is the nomad that gives up their wanderlust and becomes a settler. Occasionally a settler will cast off their roots take up the open road but this happens much less often. Neither is happy in the other's world and the relationship usually breaks down in the end with Shane riding off into the sunset and the little kid calling out his name in vain.

Out of Focus

2008-12-11T04:29:00.001-08:00

Out of Focus
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

It was a lovely day today and for a change I was out and about in the morning hours, a time normally spent sleeping. I had a few errands to run and took my camera along intending to stop off at a friend’s on the way home to photograph his two cats. Before I knew it I was driving past a house I haven’t lived in for nearly a quarter of a century. I was disappointed at first that the shot was out of focus. Then I thought about it for a second. When I lived there from 1975 until 1985, it was always more or less out of focus too. Those who knew me then understand why, the rest don’t need to.

I will have to make a point of going back there some day and holding the camera steady. Not sure why I was shaking but it was an emotional moment. Even now there are a lot of memories attached to the place. I find myself grateful that whoever owns it now hasn’t torn it down to build condos yet. The little house on the corner we knew as 804a is still there.

Most of the other shots I took this morning turned out fine including several of my friend’s two beautiful cats. Shadow and Socks are two of the prttiest cats I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. They always come to greet me whenever I drop over. I have been threatening to take their pictures ever since they were kittens. Too bad I missed that stage as they were super cute as only kittens can be. Even as adults they are quite striking.

After that I took a long slow drive home snapping a few pictures along the way. Snapshots are really the only kind of memories we have, now that I think about it. Whether on film, digital or simply in our minds, the images we carry around of our past are still images for the most part, a moment frozen in time, an image our mind and time have had more than enough time to edit. The result is a memory that like the above image, is just a wee bit fuzzy and out of focus.

I got the last of my Christmas shopping done today, made good on a promise to an old friend and visited a life gone by. It’s good to know where we’ve been and even good to go back now and then for a visit. The past is just that however, the past. The world and people move on. The ten years I spent living at 804a were both wonderful and terrible years all at the same time. I don’t live there any more. All of the people I knew then have either died or moved away as have I. My life is a little more in focus these days and as a result I have much more in it. Still, it was an interesting decade and an unforgettable chapter in my life.

Snow Day

2008-12-09T13:15:00.001-08:00

Max
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

I woke up this afternoon with all kinds of plans, looked out the window and decided it was a snow day. A day to sit indoors and glare at the pile of crystallized dihydrogen oxide covering everything. Winter. The season of our discontent, runny noses, frozen fingers and cars that won’t start. Eight months out of twelve up here in the Great White North we have winter. Even then, one can always find a sunbeam. So I shall take a page from Max today and just enjoy.

Cats and Dominoes

2008-12-09T04:48:00.001-08:00

THE S CATS
Susie 1974–1984 Sabrina 1977– 1992
Sandy 1988 -1996 Sarek 1995 -

So many years and so many changes in my life. The cats were the only constant. Everything I did revolved around them. Susie and I went east in 1977 and started a chain of events that led to where I am today. Like a neatly stacked series of dominoes one thing led to the next and the next and so on.

Because I went east in ’77, I picked up a pair of hitch hikers on the way back. Because of them, I lost my Toyota and wound up buying a taxi. Then one day while buying groceries I met an old friend. There was dinner at The Moose Factory and dancing at Lucifer’s. A year and a plane trip later the whole thing was nothing but a memory.

Then there was 804a and all the roommates, friends and lovers. Back to school and three long years with next to no sleep, the return of an old friend and our mutual disappointment in each other. Graduation, a new locale and a return to the ways of old. The garden and the bust. A change of careers and one last visit with an old friend. Hugs and goodbyes. Another change of career and yet another return to ways of old. An unexpected kiss. More than friends. A new home and a wife.

No one piece of the chain can be eliminated or changed in any way. All are required for me to be here and here is where I want to be. Through all of it there however there were the cats. First Susie and Sabrina, then Sandy and finally Sarek. All have been strays and all have had names beginning with an S. Each one has known their predecessor. There have been and are other cats in my life but there has always been an S cat.

Sarek will probably be the last in the chain for we are planning to let the cats we currently have live out their lives without any further additions. They are all getting too old to contend with any newcomers as am I. It’s been an exciting life to say the least. Not a perfect one but who’s is? I’m here, healthy and happy. The path I took to get here is irrelevant as is where I go from here. The journey is and has always been more important than the destination and now at least, I no longer have to travel alone.

Cheaters Shouldn't Prosper

2008-12-07T12:16:00.000-08:00

When I started this blog (and the attached Flickr page) it was with the most transparent of motivations. Quite simply I was hoping an old friend would come and read it, realize I am no threat to her or her lifestyle and be willing to rekindle the friendship. Alas it would appear this is not to be. So be it. Life goes on and it would appear this blog now has a life of its own. It’s no longer about her but rather anything that happens to be bugging me. At the moment it seems to be Canadian politics, which in itself says a great deal for I am the original apolitical apathetic Canadian.

Most of the time I simply don’t care what goes on in Ottawa or Washington. What the politicians do or don’t do, while occasionally entertaining is seldom relevant to the average citizen. Lately however, the three unwise men from the east and their antics have managed to get my blood boiling. I have to admit for the first time in my life Canadian politics isn’t boring. I no longer reach for the remote when Mike Duffy comes on. After all, I may be apathetic but I am still a Canadian. This is my country too and I for one resent anyone attempting to seize power without at least going through the motions of asking my opinion.

The three unwise men did not win the last election. The people spoke and soundly rejected them. Now because they fear losing their federal subsidies, these clowns seem to think they can just ignore the results of the last election and simply take over. Is it just me, or does this kind of remind you of Florida in 2000 and again in 2004? George Bush lost both times yet miraculously rose from the ashes of defeat on a mountain of hanging chads to become president. These three unwise men of the east would appear to be looking for a similar miracle and just like George, they are perfectly willing to manufacture one of their own.

Cheating is not (or so I was raised to believe) the Canadian way. We’re supposed to be better than that. Can these three unwise men really think they will capture the hearts and minds of this country by stealing power? Yes, the rules may allow what they are trying to do just as the rules allowed what happened down south of us but is this really the kind of government we want--a government that had to cheat to get there? I think not. A government must have legitimacy to rule, something this coalition of losers would never have. Winning means nothing when you have to cheat!

So who needs a government?

2008-12-06T11:50:00.000-08:00

Right at the moment Canada does not have a government. Can you see the difference? Really? Try as I may I honestly cannot see any change. Life goes on with or without the clowns in Ottawa. In fact, most times Canada functions in spite of the politicians, not because of them. People who have had their appendix removed live quite normal and healthy lives, never missing the apparently functionless organ. In the same way, Canada seems to be getting along just fine without parliament. Could it be that they too have become essentially a functionless organ we can live without?

Historically this would not seem to be the case. However bad and dysfunctional a parliament is, they do seem necessary. Monarchs who have tried to rule without them fail. Conversely, when parliament has tried to do away with the monarch it hasn’t worked out that well either. Both are apparently needed. Our own governor general had to step in when Canada’s parliament could not effectively rule. Perhaps over the Christmas break the three less than wise men currently attempting to hijack our government will come to their senses and allow it to function properly.

Time out for bad behavior

2008-12-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

I love how the three stooges are trying to convince Canadians that Mr. Harper is somehow responsible for the current mess. Excuse me? This whole tragic comedy was started when he tried to reduce government spending by stopping the subsidization of political parties at the taxpayers’ expense. That’s right folks, he tried to save us some money!

Nothing like greed to bring politicians together now is there? To me this is somehow reminiscent of the Iraq war. First they were there to find the weapons of mass destruction. Then, when there weren’t any to be found, suddenly they were there to liberate the country. First the stooges balk at losing their welfare then they try to blame their stupidity on the government of the day rather than admit it was simple greed.

As for Mr. Dion becoming Prime Minister, what a joke! This man was barely able to get elected and let’s face it, was already on his way out as party leader. Now he sees a miracle! A way to seize power and fulfill his wildest fantasies without ever having won an election. As for Mr. Layton, the less said the better. Why he would choose to support Dion is a question only he can answer but I suspect it has something to do with the ‘anyone but Harper’ campaign he initiated during the last election. What motivates the Bloc is another matter but again, greed is no doubt the major factor. All want their slice of the pie, a pie Mr. Harper was trying reduce in size.

So in steps the governor general. Because the children won’t behave, she suspended parliament to give everyone a time out. It is to be hoped the three stooges will take this time to consider what they are attempting to do. I for one do not care that one of theses stooges is heading up a party dedicated to the separation of Quebec from Canada. What troubles me is their collective ability to govern. I cannot honestly see them accomplishing anything good for Canada. If they do manage to seize power in their bloodless coup, they will be in the same position many a third world dictator has found himself in. Seizing power is easy, exercising it wisely is not.

Sometimes I'm almost normal

2008-12-04T11:26:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me will tell you how absurd the title of this post is. Normal? Me? Looking around at some of the other fine examples of humanity to be found on this planet, I begin to wonder. Okay maybe I’m strange but for the most part, harmless. I can honestly say that I have never gone out of my way to intentionally hurt anyone. Even when I drove a cab I never bothered ripping any of my passengers off. Over the years I have crossed paths with individuals that didn’t seem to have even the limited moral compass I do. Then there were the others, the ones who actually get some kind of sick pleasure out of hurting others.

These are the ones I do not understand. Recently a young man escaped such a situation and his story was all over the news. Someone had been torturing him. Not to gain information as in the official non-torture water-boarding at Gitmo. No, this was torture for pleasure. Someone enjoyed inflicting pain on this boy. Why? I have no idea. Watching it though, I couldn’t help wondering how many of the guards in the World War II concentration camps were there because they enjoyed the work. What part of mankind takes pleasure in acts such as these? Is it there in all of us or only a few? Why are some of us better at suppressing it than others? These are question I have no answer for. If there is some part of me that could take pleasure in hurting others I am eternally grateful it has never surfaced.

That is not to say I have not hurt others. I have. By oversight, by cowardice, you name it. I’ve let others down, we all have. A while back I watched a rather unusual movie called The Martian Child based on a story by David Gerrold. One line stood out. One of the characters turns to the other and says, “Why can’t you be who we want you to be?” That one question sums up a lot of the hopes and aspirations of the human race. Each of us has an image of what we want other peopleto be. Sometimes they live up to it, sometimes they don’t. When they don’t, we’re like the character in the movie, disappointed and puzzled and whether we voice it or not, asking the same question.

I have disappointed others just as they have me, usually because I could not be who they wanted me to be just as they could never be who I wanted them to be. We can only be who we are. It has taken me a lot of years to come to terms with who I am. Accepting others for who they are is more difficult but I'm working on it.

Past present and future

2008-12-04T01:25:00.000-08:00

The more things change the more they stay the same. A cliché to be sure but even clichés contain some truth. Years ago, telephones were misused by misguided individuals to harass other people. Telephone harassment has for the most part disappeared with the advent of call display and call blocking. Now it’s the internet. Several sites and of course the usenet allow misguided individuals to spread rumours, slander or just to rant with relative impunity. Trouble is, they tend to make their victims somewhat skittish and reluctant to allow legitimately friendly overtures. When someone who means these people no harm simply says hello, they get shut down. It has become reflex by this point.

It’s the old ‘bad apple’ syndrome. Buy one bad apple from a merchant and nothing that merchant can do with entice you back into his store. Men who harass and stalk women make it doubly difficult for decent men to even approach them. Communication between the sexes is difficult at the best of times and establishing trust on either side a slow process. Each of us bases our level of trust in another person on our experiences. The more we get burned, the less likely we are to open up to the next person. Over the years we build up scar tissue just the same as we would over a physical injury.

Scar tissue unfortunately, is not very flexible. We tend to prejudge others as soon as they match a pattern we’ve seen before. All of us, whether consciously or not, slot new people we meet into categories based on our past experiences. Some are to be embraced, some held at a distance, others avoided altogether. Prejudging may be wrong and definitely inaccurate but we all do it because it saves time and pain if it allows us to avoid one wrong move. Trouble is, it also prevents us from many of the right moves. People who mean us no harm and who in fact might very well be supportive and helpful to us are often shunned simply because they remind us of someone else.

For many years I fancied myself to be in love with a close friend. She often pointed out that the real problem was that I am and will forever be, a hopeless romantic. You see it wasn’t her I was in love with. Oh I loved her and a part of me still does. I was not in love with her though. I was in love with the idea of being in love. I didn’t see the difference until quite late in life when I finally did fall in love. Not the same thing at all. Now I finally understand what she was able to see all those years ago. Sadly, in the process of learning this and establishing a new life, I lost the friend--too bad, for I owe her a great deal. You see, she taught me the difference between loving someone and being ‘in love’ with them.

I love my friends and I care about all of them, even the ones who no longer speak to me. I made a serious mistake with her trying to push the friendship into areas it was never meant to go. I see that so clearly now but hindsight always was 20/20. Looking back I can see she was worth far more to me as a friend. Lust has a funny way of clouding men’s judgment that way. Now that I’m older sex is not the be all and end all it was back then. I can enjoy a woman’s company without the tension that was always there in the past. I’m happily married and not looking for anything else on the side. For the first time in my life I am beginning to appreciate the other half of the human race on their own merits rather than as a collection of interesting body parts.

What a shame we only start to figure out this thing called life as we begin the final quarter of the game. With my luck it’ll all make sense to me just as the heart monitor begins its long drawn out beep. Until then however, I try to grow and learn. I make fewer mistakes now and move on quicker. The past may shape how we react to the present but the future is in our own hands. Experience is a guide but should not be a straight jacket.

The bloodless coup of Canada

2008-12-03T00:40:00.000-08:00

Remember how as Canadians we wondered how a man who lost an election could wind up President of the United States? Twice. Seemed unbelievable at the time didn’t it? The whole idea of democracy is supposed to be that the person with the most votes wins, right? Not necessarily.

Welcome to the New World Order as laid down by the leaders of the three losing parties in the last Canadian federal election. I call them Larry, Curly and Moe for obvious reasons. These stooges cannot and will not accept that they lost. Now they’re trying to pull off an end run. Since none of them induhvidually (sic) had what it took to win an election they’ve all come together to pull off what amounts to a coup.

Oh it’s a bloodless coup all right, staged in the finest traditions of Canadian politeness. No tanks, guns or any real blood. Simply the hopes and desires of all Canadians for a fair and representative government, laid down on the floor of the house of parliament. Nothing to lose any sleep over here, unless you care about democracy in this country. We had an election, they lost. End of story. That, in the eyes of most Canadians means one thing and one thing only: the Conservatives won. Now these losers want to simply take all that and throw it away.

Who cares what you or I want? Not the Liberals, who lost more ground this time around than ever. Not the New Democrats, who have never been anything but a fringe party for all their claims. And certainly not the Bloc, a party dedicated to splitting this great country apart. The absurdity of this coalition is vaudevillian at best and a tragedy for all of us. If these three modern day stooges are allowed to take over the governing of Canada without having won an election it will mean our wonderful democracy has become nothing more than a demockery.

Punctuation Marks

2008-12-02T13:07:00.000-08:00

Once the final punctuation mark at the end of the train, now the few cabooses left are to be found on sidings such as this one in Strathmore, Alberta. When a train crosses in front of me I find myself subconsciously looking for something more. The train seems to end far too abruptly without the little red caboose.

Most of life has its own punctuation marks or dividers, sectioning off time periods and delineating events. This era or that is always known by some characteristic symbol. Even within one's own life there are always memories or events marking beginnings and endings. As time goes on they're often all that remains.

In the case of World War I the image of the trench soldier with his helmet on and bayonet fixed going over the top is uppermost in most people's minds. In the thirties the hobo camps and long lines at the soup kitchens were always there. For World War II it's the airplane and in the end the atomic bomb marking the beginning of the cold war.

The Berlin wall, both the symbol of communist strength in eastern Europe and the final punctuation mark of its demise. Vietnam and helicopters are forever linked together. The Kuwait fires, twin towers, all of these events mark off the times and provide chapter divisions for history books. I can't help wondering what the future will associate with this present decade, the one still haven't come up with a name for yet.

Political Welfare, Subsidized Art

2008-11-28T12:18:00.000-08:00

It looks like the idiots in Ottawa are about to do it again. Yep, election time. It would seem that while the three opposition parties can’t agree on much, none of them want to give up their slice of the federal pork. For two years they couldn’t agree on anything well enough to bring down Mr. Harper’s government but on this they are united. It should be noted that the move to remove federal subsidies applies to all parties including the Conservatives. Yet for some reason the three losers of the last election seem to think it’s all about them. I find it amusing that the harshest critics of this government are all people who have had their funding threatened in one way or another.

First it was the artistic community who seem to think art that doesn’t sell should be paid for by the taxpayer. I have met many artists and writers over the years and one thing jumps out at me. The ones that are a commercial success very seldom got their start with government funding. Many are in fact baffled by the preoccupation so many Canadians have with filling out grant proposals and attempting to obtain government funding in order to create. When asked how he had supported himself while perfecting his craft science fiction author David Drake simply replied, “I drove a bus.” You see, the really good ones aren’t afraid to work for a living or to go without while they learn. Only in Canada do artists feel the rest of us should support them.

The same appears to be true of politicians. Those that won are perfectly willing to give up their government subsidies. Only the parties that lost the last election seem to feel the taxpayer should prop them up. Rather than give up their slice of the federal pie Larry, Curly and Moe want to cost Canadians millions of dollars and go to the polls all over again. Personally, I hope the less than fifty per cent of us that bother with this nonsense remember who brought it all about and why. If we do have another election, please get out and vote for whomever you want. As for me, I’ll be voting against the three stooges!

Cosmic Friendship

2008-11-27T03:55:00.001-08:00

Wall of Pentz
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

This is our one wall not devoted to books. It features the art of Eugene Pentz’s Cosmic Friendship series. Alas, we could not afford the original paintings but they are all signed and numbered prints. The two small and two medium sized prints were purchased directly from Mr. Pentz at his studio in Invermere BC. The large central picture was a mail order. The stereo (lower right) is a Pioneer SA-6500 purchased in 1976. It still works just fine after 32 years of continuous use, proving once more that you can never go wrong paying for quality.

I remember the reaction my niece and nephew had on first seeing our living room. Cathy looked around and said, “look at all the art.” Robert, on taking in the same scene exclaimed, “look at all the books.” We would have more art if we could spare the walls to hang it on. We do what we can with curios interspersed with the books and our wall of Pentz as it were. His art struck a chord with both of us when we were on our honeymoon in Fairmont BC. We bought our first print that year and another the following year when we returned to the scene of the crime. We are still coming back to this valley today with our last visit just last June. Eugene is no longer in Invermere. He has relocated out to Gold River, BC on the west side of Vancouver Island. In addition to his painting, he is a world class wood carver.

Friendships, cosmic or not, happen for a variety of reasons. Common interests, proximity, attraction all play a role but I find in the case of men and women it’s most often one party or the other enjoying the company of the other but not finding them sexually attractive. The old “let’s just be friends” line, all too familiar to most men is a signal to move on. For the most part the other person does not actually want to be friends. They are simply using this as a gentle way to dump you. This is by no means universal. In one rather exceptional case I did manage to come out of it with a life long friend. She has stood by me and I have stood by her for over thirty years. No, she is not my wife although she did stand beside me at our wedding as my “best man. No, we never slept together though not for lack of interest on my part; she is a rather attractive woman. Somehow in her case this never really bothered me where with others it had driven me crazy.

You see what most women who use the ‘just friends’ routine to avoid having to sleep with someone don't understand is that most guys can accept that part, the not sleeping with the woman. And that would be fine if the other party were about to take a vow of chastity. Sadly that doesn’t happen. So said friend has to sit on the sidelines unable to touch the object of his desire and watch others boldly go where he cannot. Frustration builds, stupid things get said and done and the so-called friendship evaporates into the cosmos. This happens for the most part because the friendship wasn’t real in the first place. Instead, it was merely a convenience, a way of keeping the other person in their life without letting them get too close. Friendships based on a lie like this cannot and do not last.

Here it’s not so much the woman lies to the man (and to be fair I’m sure it works both ways but I only have personal experience with the one) but more to the point, the man lies to himself, convincing himself that if he’s patient and noble enough she’ll come around. Trust me, they never do. Once you’ve been slotted into the “friend” category, go look elsewhere for she most certainly will. Stop deluding yourself and move on. If she really does want to be ‘just friends,’ she will have no trouble understanding your need to have a life apart from her. If not, she was never your friend in the first place.

Carved in stone

2008-11-26T08:31:00.001-08:00

No doubt one of the earliest examples of graffiti—probably the equivalent of Joe not so useful was here. This is from Writing on Stone Provincial Park, an absolutely awesome place. There is a sense of timelessness as you enter the valley almost as if all the ancestors are still there, watching.

Writing on Stone Provincial Park
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

The moving finger of time writes and having writ moves on. Yet each of us strives to make our mark on the world, something to lett those who follow that we were there. The same was no doubt true of the natives who carved this at Writing on Stone Provincial Park. They simply wanted their lives, thier story to survive them. Maybe it's nothing more than graffiti but it's still there. The images saved onto a CD ROM last week might not even be readable in five years (or now if you're using Vista). Stone carvings, clay tablets and even ancient scrolls have all survived the passage of time. Todays modern digital media will not even survive an operating system change. Sic transit gloria in the extreme.

Sarek 2

2008-11-25T13:01:00.001-08:00

Sarek 2
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

Poor old Sarek probably won’t be with us much longer. He’s blind and suffers from arthritis. Still, he finds the food dish, the litter pan, any available heat vent and my lap where he now resides. Watching him navigate is comical. He puts his whiskers up against the wall and follows it along until he bumps into something. Memory plays a big role—the trailer isn’t all that big and he knows his way around it. We try not to complicate things by rearranging the furniture or leaving things in his way. All we can do at this point is love him and try to make him as comfortable as possible.

In so many ways I won the lottery back in 1992 when I ran into Maureen again. We first met back in the seventies when my roommate was driving for her first husband. She was Mrs. B then and I didn’t really pay all that much attention to her. I was just another whacked out cab driver friend of her husband’s and she barely noticed me in the crowd. A whole bunch of years and a whole lot of life went by. Suddenly we were both in the same place at the same time and both single. Checker Cabs no less! Not the most romantic of settings but it worked and the rest, as they say is history. It’s been almost sixteen years and I wouldn’t change a thing. She is still the best thing that ever happened to me.

When we first started going out together I remember telling my sister that Maureen loved cats, books and me and I didn’t even care if it was in that order. You see I love cats, books and her. The cats are of course, first and foremost since we are after all just the domestic couple our feline overseers hired to take care of them. The books are next since we are merely their custodians and then there’s each other. Us. I'd never been a part of an 'us' before. Before Maureen I spent twenty years convinced I was in love with someone who won't even speak to me today.

Unrequited lovemay make you feel all noble and such but in the end it’s really not all that satisfying. When the object of my affection remarried and left town, I took stock of my life and looked around. I was stuck in a job I hated so I quit and went back to driving. Then Maureen and I started seeing each other. She accepted me as a cab driver, something my unrequited love had not.

A rare and precious find

2008-11-24T13:12:00.001-08:00

A rare and precious find
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

This gem was found at last year’s Conversion 24. It’s a first edition, published in 1899. H. G. Wells was the father of modern science fiction along with Jules Verne. Even today, no one has written a better invasion from space story than War of the Worlds. The original George Pal movie done in the fifties was vastly superior to the pathetic Tom Cruise remake. Why can’t people recognize a classic when they see it? Classics do not require updating; that is what the term classic means. By their very nature they are timeless. Trying to bring them into the modern era is as futile as attempting to install a nuclear reactor in your Ford. None of the various television and movie versions were even close to the original in quality. The closest perhaps was the Jeff Wayne musical version. The music is by Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues and as such is a classic itself.

Some things stand the test of time as do some relationships. When my father passed away back in 2003 I couldn’t help noticing how many of his friends that showed up for the funeral had been his friend for over half a century. I have not been so fortunate with my friendships. Most have fallen by the wayside over the years. People come into and out of our modern lives at a far greater pace than they did in my father’s time. Some move away, become involved with other things and lose touch. Others suffer some slight or get into an argument with you over something you said or they said and you part ways, never quite sure why. Life is for the most part a one way street; you can never go back. Believe me, I’ve tried! People left behind are just that--people left behind. They are an important part of your past but only as part of the journey to the present. Today is what matters for this is where we live, like it or lump it. Carpe Diem! Whatever happened yesterday is nothing more than a memory (unless of course you are on trial for what you did yesterday, in which case it’s evidence).

Tomorrow on the other hand, is open to speculation and as such far more interesting. This is what science fiction is all about; speculation. Not the future per se but possible futures. What if? If this goes on… We are in many ways living in a science fiction age—go in a Future Shop and see how many of the new devices you even understand; if you’re an old fart like me, not many. I’m holding out for a holodeck and tea, Earl Grey, hot. I must admit that while I’m not a full blown Trekkie, I do like some aspects of the utopian future they present. Beam me up Scotty.

This is why I enjoy reading the science fiction of the 1930’s. Their vision of the age we now live in was for the most part optimistic in the extreme. Some, like Wells did consider war inevitable but others saw the future as one marvelous invention after another.

Astounding / Analog Science Fiction Magazine

2008-11-22T11:21:00.001-08:00

Astounding / Analog Science Fiction Magazine
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

I bought my first issue of Analog in the summer of 1968. I still have it along with hundreds of others dating back as far as 1931. Every year when we visit the local SF convention (www.con-version.org) I pick up a few more of the really old ones. Science fiction began as a genre when Hugo Gernsback and John W. Campbell Jr. came up with the phrase in the first place. Hugo (after whom the prestigious Hugo award is named) wanted to call it 'scientifiction.' John thought this too much of a tongue twister and suggested 'science fiction.' Thus the new genre had a name and with the new pulp magazines, a home.

All Southern Rock

2008-11-20T02:02:00.001-08:00

All Southern Rock
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

Go there and have a listen. If you're a fan of rock and roll this is the site for you. Whenever I'm online I go there first, put on the headphones and then read my mail. I used to know one of the DJ's (never actually met him but exchanged emails for almost ten years) but sadly he passed away back in 2005. It took me a while to come back but the music still has its draw.

Once, a long time ago I hit bottom and had to apply for welfare. I remember that day in every detail and how humbling it was to an arrogant prick like me to have to hold out my hand for help. You see I'm the guy who used to ignore the homeless on the street when they asked for change. I give what I can these days but in truth I'm hardly ever downtown any more.

One thing I did not do that day was show up in my best suit in a limousine. I may not have ever applied for welfare before but even I had enough sense to figure this might not be the best idea. Yet this is exactly what the auto executives are doing in Washington right now. Each arrived by limo after flying there on a private jet. All are dressed in their finest. And yes, all of them are there to apply for welfare. Strange world we live in isn't it?

Paper Chase

2008-11-19T16:32:00.001-08:00

Paper Chase
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

This is a receipt for almost twenty thousand dollars in student loan money. Back in 1982 I was a cab driver right up until Mr. Fuddle duddle ended economic prosperity in western Canada with his National Energy Program. Overnight the money dried up and it simply was not possible to make a living on the streets any more. So I went back to school, university to be precise, the only place other than the taxi that I had ever felt comfortable. Neither the university campus nor taxiland have much to do with reality. They both exist on the fringes of our society.

I spent three years getting a four year degree. Then, when it was all over and I was about to graduate, a whirlwind, tsnami, whatever you want to call her, swept back into my life and tipped everything downside up. Certain women can do that to all of us. For every man there's one woman he is simply helpless in front of. Like a deer in the headlights we're trapped. The summer of '85 was like that. In the end I left the campus and went back to taxiland, my other comfort zone.

So what was the paper chase all about? Just to prove I could I guess. Not to my friends or even my family so much as myself. After six years in the taxi I came back and got a degree. Okay, it wasn't the one I started out to get back in '71 but it was a degree never-the-less. What did it mean? Not one damned thing. That's right, nothing. By October of 1985 I was back driving and while the economy had picked up a bit, things did not improve much until the '88 winter games. Still, taxiland had welcomed me back just as it always did and for several more years I was comfortable there.

Feeding time at the zoo

2008-11-19T04:41:00.001-08:00

Feeding time at the zoo
Originally uploaded by Richard Gugins

I almost forgot our feline overseers. From left to right: Odo, Max and Sarek. Each has their own spot and their own dish although they do steal from one another. Apparently stolen cat food tastes better.

Curiosity or Stalking?

2008-11-19T02:28:00.000-08:00

When does simple curiosity cross the line and become borderline stalking? Recently I looked up an old friend on the web and began reading her blog. After a while I sent her an email and waited.

Eventually (okay, I'm slow on the uptake sometimes) it became clear she was not going to reply. Why, I have no idea. More to the point it became clear that my attempts were in fact upsetting her. Again, I have no idea why but it's enough that it did. Somehow I had crossed the line. Looking back I can see how the whole thing might appear quite different from her point of view. Oops! Didn't really mean to intrude on her or cause distress. Lesson learned--if someone does not reply to your first email, give up. And if the aforementioned lady reads this, I am indeed sorry. Any further contact will be strictly up to you.

You see a long time ago in a different life, she and I were very close friends and I guess I let my memories cloud my judgement. The years can do that. You see we all edit our memories and only remember the good parts. All the BS we went through and the mistakes that were made get glossed over. And if I could climb aboard a time machine and go back, what would I change? Nothing. Not a single butterfly. I like where I am and who I am. Every zig or zag taken that got me here was a necessary one. I may regret the unintentional pain my blundering about caused to others along the way but it's not like they knew what they were doing either.

I used to wonder why everyone else seemed to have their act together and I did not. Then one day I realized they're just better actors than me. Truth is, none of us have the answers or even most of the questions.

Recently I watched the leaders of twenty of the most powerful nations on earth (G20) gather to discuss what to do about the economy. Guess what? They didn't have a clue! Oh they all made nice speeches but when you looked into their eyes you saw fear, raw naked fear. All of them were in over their heads and they knew it. As clear a case of the Peter Principle as this planet has ever seen. All of these leaders had risen well beyond their respective levels of competency. Do I have the answers? Hell no but then, I never pretended to either.

Oh and in case anyone's wondering, the real answer is four...

Something New

2008-11-19T01:51:00.000-08:00

A Weblog--what a concept. I mean really. Me? A blogger. The word itself makes me wince. As if anyone out there gives a rat's rectum about my thoughts or what's going on in my life. Hell, even I don't most of time.

You see the problem is I'm completely ordinary. Not an artist, a writer or anything all that interesting. I'm the proud grandfather of five boys even though I never was anyone's father. Marriage can do that. I've been married now for thirteen and a half wonderful years and she's still the best thing that ever happened to me We met way back in the seventies but she was married to someone else then. In the fall of 1992 we found ourselves working in the same office. Friendship blossomed into love and we moved in together in '93. It took me a couple of years but I managed to persuade her to marry me in '95. And that as they say is that.

I'm just an old hippy who somehow survived the seventies, endured the eighties and found happiness in the nineties. I enjoy cycling, stamp collecting, old science fiction magazines and science fiction conventions. For the last ten years we have attended the local Conversion here in Calgary. (http://www.con-version.org) We have met many of our favourite authors, forcing them to sign our collection of their books. Great fun and a wonderful way to spend a weekend.