Commuter challenged

Last week I attempted, for the first time, to participate in the Commuter Challenge. More people than I expected haven’t heard of this before, but the idea is that, for a week, you try to get to work by some way other than by driving yourself there. As part of the company “Green Team”, I felt I should try to participate, even though I really like the convenience of driving myself to work and back.

I don’t live far from work—Google Maps reports that it’s 3.7 km, one way. Cycling would be the most logical alternative mode of transport, likely not taking much longer than the drive in rush hour.

The problem is, I’m not much of a cyclist. I don’t feel in shape for the activity, I do not like driving on the sides of city streets, I don’t want to feel sweaty at work all day, I don’t want to feel obliged to have to bike home again if it’s raining by then.

Next up: the bus. Grand River Transit has developed a new EasyGo system that is pretty cool. You enter your start and end locations and times; it gives you the full bus route to take. Unfortunately, that also revealed a slightly absurd, 30-40 minute itinerary, with one or two transfers.

Telework was an option. While I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to work at home the whole week, I did have a laptop and a method of connecting to the work network, so that was my method for a couple of the days. For the others? I finally went with “get a ride with husband” in the morning (which he helpfully pointed out just meant that he had to drive a little farther before going to work), combined with walking back home. Which took me 40 minutes.

Happy news was that I did get my exercise in, and on days I probably otherwise would not have. The weather proved to be cooperative—didn’t get rained on, wasn’t ever excessively hot or cold. Except for the one spot with the pond Canada geese and their chicks, and the (live) groundhog I saw one day, the walk route itself was rather uninspiring, even boring. But the iPod proved a helpful tool for dealing with that.

The challenges? Well, it made doing errands pretty tricky. Cats ended up chowing down on yellowfish tuna in olive oil because I wasn’t about to cart home a bunch of can cat food from the store near the office, as I usually do. Telework Monday I drove myself to a medical appointment and back; otherwise I would have missed too much work time. Right after walk-home Tuesday I got into my car for an event in downtown. Though the bus route to there was very good, the bus options home were not. Wine bottles to return to the Beer Store near work? That didn’t happen either.

I also had to really downsize the amount of stuff I normally carry. For the most part, this just proves I normally carry way more than I need. But keeping a bag lunch at proper temperature and weight—tricky. The glass bottled water I used as an alternative to plastic? Too heavy to consider. Carrying my laptop and accessories and papers so I can work effectively at home? Not practical— hence my using the ride option as well.

So, unfortunately, I’m unlikely to stay with regular alternative commuting options. But I will work at home more often, as possible. It’s good to know that walking—and even transit—are actually possible on days the car is in for servicing, or whatever. And walking made it clear that plenty of people deal with the busy city streets by riding their bikes on the sidewalk, so though you’re not supposed to do that, it maybe makes biking an option.

It was good to try it out. If you didn’t participate this year, look out for out next time. Gas ain’t getting any cheaper…

Living the 100-mile diet… At least for one meal

The “One Book, One Community” choice for Waterloo region this year is “The 100-Mile Diet”, an account of a BC couple’s attempt to restrict their diet to food produced within 100 miles of their home, for one year. In that spirit was the Region of Waterloo Chef Association President’s Dinner, in celebration of Earth Day. By combining with Foodlink Waterloo Region, they wanted to show that even in April, when local produce options are limited at best, a fine meal was possible.

The evening began with a “Champagne reception”, featuring a nice, Inniskillin sparkling wine. Jean and I debated how “environmental” our presence at this event was—certainly it supported the producers and the idea; on the other hand, we did drive there.

Issue unresolved, we found that seating was in tables at eight, so we randomly selected one that had two spots available. While at first it looked like everyone was only going to talk to those they already knew, a gentleman from Wellesley suggested we all introduce each other, and things got rolling.

It was an interesting group. One couple owned Lyndon Fish Hatcheries—and also happened to have 10 children. The main focus of their business is growing fish to feed other fish hatcheries, but they do a small sideline in smoked arctic char. More on that later. They were there with another couple. He worked for Laidlaw and was frequently consulting his Blackberry; apparently he frequently had to fly out to various offices on short notice. But he wasn’t the type you’re probably picturing now from that description—he was much more down to earth.

The Wellesley couple owned a small food shop in that town. She was noticeably younger than him, with a thick Ukranian accent, but they’d met in New York City. Apparently he decided on the first day that they’d end up married, and proceeded to woo. She expressed perfect satisfaction with life in Wellesley, despite spending her teenage years in Manhattan.

So amid the lively conversation, we got some pretty nice food. First course (earth) was a nice celeriac and potato soup. Second course (water) proved the highlight—the smoked char on greens and tomatoes (greenhouse, if you’re wondering about that one), with a side of brie. Great fish! And we had it first hand that it had all been smoked the night before. Third course (air) featured pheasant and chicken. Then there was a lovely sorbet of apple and chardonnay from the Breadalbane Inn (which I think we need to try). Fourth course (land) was black Angus filet mignon, potatoes, and green beans (definitely a surprise this time of year). Dessert was a nice trio of tiny crepes with apple butter, delicious double brie ice cream, and equally delicious maple syrup tart.

Despite a few moans and groans, everyone at the table seemed to manage to eat everything. Oh, and there were also wine pairings: a nice white meritage from Jackson-Triggs, a good Pinot from Inniskillin, and a bigger red—Cabernet?—to go with the beef.

The evening ended with an auction for a personal chef’s dinner (we dropped out after the first price point) and some door prizes, one of which we won! Dinner for four at Conestega College. All in all a good evening out, whether or not the earth thanks us for it.

Floyd, Lemony snicket, and a brass quintet

Just wanted to give an update on some of the more interesting events we’ve been to at Centre in the Square…

First up: Lemony Snicket – The Composer is Dead. Part of the KW Symphony’s Pops series, this sold-out performance featured the actual composer, Nathanial Stookey, who is not dead, but who did want to reflect on the fact that only dead composers seem to be celebrated. The first half of the concert featured a number of “spooky” pieces, including “Danse Macabre”, best known as the Alfred Hitchcock theme, then introduced Stookey. He and conductor Edwin Outwater gave a detailed explanation and preview of the major piece from the second half, a piece in which Stookey had assembled bits from multiple composers, all on “mortal” themes, into a coherent whole—without changing any of the original keys. If you know anything about reading music, you can understand how that’s astonishing. If you didn’t, Outwater and Stookey did a good job of explaining why you should be impressed.

The second half, which included this piece, was all narrated by “Lemony Snicket“, investigating the mysterious death of the composer. All members of the symphony were suspects and had to come up with alibis. The Concert Master was busy showing off. The violas were feeling sorry for themselves (because everyone forgets about them). The brass instruments were partying. The French horn players were busy with their croissant. You get the idea, but not how funny it actually all was, thanks to the talent of the narrator.

Next up: A little KW Symphony event we got invited to—not sure why—but that proved very enjoyable. It began with a tour of Centre in the Square, part of which we missed because we were late, but still caught enough of to be reminded how amazing the hall is, given its size and its acoustical integrity. We’d toured it before, but learned some new stuff this time, such as the reason that acoustics were paramount was the Raffi Armenian, KW Symphony Music Director, had final say. When costs overran, he wouldn’t compromise there. Instead, lobbies were shrunk, restaurants removed. We also caught that this was the second largest stage in North America, but have been wondering since if that’s really true (though it certainly is big). The official history page says only that it’s “one of the biggest” in North America.

We were then seated on this big stage, facing the “audience”, in much the same configuration the symphony is normally arranged in. The symphony’s brass quintet—two horns, a trombone, tube, and French horn—then proceeded to play a small concert for us, concluding with the Theme from the Simpson’s! They then answered some questions—yes, they have to buy their own instruments; what they do to protect their hearing; how a woman ended up a tuba player (the only way into the band); and so on. And there was also wine and cheese.

So all quite nice.

Finally, the Floyd. Pink Floyd: Dark Side of the Moon was the Electric Thursdays concert I was most looking forward to this year, and it did not disappoint. The first half featured songs of the era, including Roxy Music’s “Avalon”, David Bowie’s “Space Oddity”, and Supertramp’s “Crime of the Century”, along with Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” and “Another Brick in the Wall”. The second half was all Dark Side of the Moon (except “Any Colour You Like”), uninterrupted. They had video accompaniment to this part that worked very well; it enhanced this music’s ability to really draw you in to a particular mindspace, even if you’re not stoned! (And the wine from dinner had pretty much worn off by now.) The photo montage of current and past war photos during “Us and Them” was particular affecting.

The best sport there is!

… Ice skating

That’s the name of Salon posting post board thread dedicated to the sport (some would say “sport”) of figure skating. A sentiment I confess to sharing.

Before leaving for New York, I set the PVR to tape every bit of figure skating I could find on CBC. (And finding that was a bit of chore, given the off-prime time hours given over to it—midnight, Saturday afternoon…) When back from New York and waiting at the luggage carousel, I saw Jeff Buttle’s smiling face up on the TV screen showing the news. While I couldn’t catch the details, I knew that meant he had to have done well. They weren’t going include a sixth-place finish in a five-minute news summary.

Back home, the stack of newspaper that weren’t supposed to be there (my registered vacation stop was ignored) gave the pre-story: 3 pairs teams in the top 8, including a bronze medal; the strong fifth place in women’s; the silver in dance. But it may have been only the next morning that I heard Buttle had actually won gold.

Why I like watching this sport so much, I’m not really sure. I’ve certainly never done it myself, my own ice skating skills never having progressed much beyond the rudimentary. I like dance, too, but I don’t make a point of watching ballroom dance competitions on TV. But—and especially when Canada does have a reasonably strong team—I can’t help watching the figure skating.

This is a challenge, because I have hours of the stuff on PVR now, and DH does not share my enthusiasm. So I try to cram in the viewing when he’s not around, fast-forwarding the duller commentary and interviews, not to mention some of the duller skaters (that pairs silver team? My God, could they be any slower? As Kurt Browning said, maybe if they did nothing but jumps, I wouldn’t have to fast-forward out of boredom) and those just having a really bad day (one grows weary of wincing at all the falls).

So at this point, I’ve seen most of it. I think I just have the Dance Originals and the full women’s Long Program left.

I feel absurdly proud of the Canadian skaters, as if I had anything to do with it whatsoever. But those who doubt the toughness of people in this sport, think that fifth-place pairs winner Craig Buntin had to move immediately from lifting his partner over his head with one hand to shoulder surgery to repair the damage; that bronze-medal pairs Jessica Dube’s face was slashed by her partner’s skate last year; that gold medalist Buttle could barely walk a year ago, so bad was his back injury.

Also nice to see American Johnny Weir, always an interesting skater, finally win a world medal (a bronze), and that Japanese woman’s skater come back from a terrible fall in the opening moments of her program to be dynamic and perfect enough in the rest to win the gold.

But Jeff Buttle, I have to say, comes across as one of the sweetest human beings on the planet. So it’s really great to see that he won, and won decisively, by doing his quad-free program perfectly. Every big win this guy has had—the Silver at a previous World’s, the Bronze at the Olympics, and this Gold—always seems to be a big shocker. Maybe that’s finally over now.

Start spreading the news…

But I’m not leaving today; I’m actually back from New York a week now and finally feel recovered.

I do find the website a more suitable medium than the blog for posting the photos and commentary; you can see that here:

https://jean-cathy.com/wp51/new-york-city-weekend-2008/

The week before going, I put together a playlist of songs about New York—New York State of Mind, First We Take Manhattan, New York City, New York Conversation, America (“Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike”), An American Tune, Last Chance on the Stairway (“45! ‘Tween Fifth and Broadway”), Chinatown, and so on. Course, then my brain was plagued by these songs the whole weekend. Mind you, that probably would have happened anyway.

“The Big Apple” playlist on YouTube Music (this link is a later addition, clearly)

Watching the new Battlestar Galactica

As mentioned previously, during the TV writers’ strike, we stared renting DVDs of the remade Battlestar Galactica series, which I’d read was really good, but felt I was too far behind on to watch on “live” TV. (One friend was amazed I’d never seen this series; another equally amazed that I had any interest in seeing it. In the immortal words of Dr. Temperance Brennan, I don’t know what that means.)

I’ll start by saying that I don’t remember the old series at all, though I imagine that I watched some of it at the time. So until watching the extras, I had no idea that Boomer and Starbuck were men in the original, or that one of the recurring guest stars was played by Richard Hatch, the original Apollo. So I judged this one on its own merits. And found it to be good.

It is, indeed, a drama in space, and not so much a space drama. Character is paramount, and each episode continues from the last—two features I always prefer in my television. So I’m drawn in by the story, and I care what happens to these people—even the ones who aren’t really people. The underlying mythology retains its interest. We’re halfway through season 2 now, and the full motives of the cylons remain mysterious.

The series is dark. There are moments of joy and triumph, but mostly the characters are struggling, running, and fighting. It can be kind of haunting. So though we’re getting through the disks pretty quickly—an average of an episode a day, I suppose—it’s also good to have a break from that world, to watch something else. To enjoy an escape that the characters themselves rarely experience.

Anger Management

So I decided to gather an iPod playlist of “angry” songs. (Never you mind why—let’s just say strong emotions can make for great songs, and leave it at that.) But as I’ve noted before, I have a pretty substantial list of songs to sort, and there’s no easy way to pick out which ones qualify as “angry”.

Of course, some are obvious—the “you done me wrong” songs. The classic Alanis “You Oughta Know” (I’m here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away), Marianne Faithfull’s incendiary “Why D’Ya Do It?” (Why d’ya do it she screamed, why d’ya do what you did. You drove my ego to a really bad skid.), Bob Geldof’s “One for You”, a parting shot at his ex-wife (You don’t even need to take your clothes off anymore. You’re a bit too old for that stuff, anyway.), and John Lennon’s outraged “Gimme Some Truth” (I’m sick and tired of hearing things from uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocrites. All I want is some truth).

But really, that could be a rather short and possibly somewhat depressing playlist. Could at least expand it to that interesting category of songs about people whose behavior is frustrating, though they haven’t actually done anything to you. Billy Joel, of all people, is kind of a master at these—raging at the apathetic slacker in “Captain Jack” (You’re 21 and still your mother makes your bed. And that’s too long!), the show-off in “Big Shot” (When you wake up in the morning with your head on fire and your eyes too bloody to see, go on and cry in your coffee but don’t come bitching to me). Lennon’s “Working Class Hero” (also covered brilliantly by Marianne Faithfull) is another fascinating example, as the anger really seems more directed at the working class for not realizing they are oppressed, and not that at those oppressing. Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV. And you think you’re so clever and classless and free. But you’re still fucking peasants, as far as I can see.

Which brings us to songs featuring productive anger, the “we can change the world” kind of anger, of which Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” would be the lead example, if only I owned that song. But I do have Queen’s “Fight from Inside”, Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”, Lowest of the Low’s “Eating the Rich” (It’s an evolutionary chow-down), U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday”—and maybe The Clash’s “London Calling” qualifies here? (And I’m not sure how to sub-categorize Tori Amos’ “Waitress”: I want to kill this waitress. She’s worked here for years. It would be a kindness.)

Course you have to be careful about songs that sound angry, but aren’t really. Everything Billy Idol does sounds kind of angry, but I think he’s mostly going for horny. Except in “White Wedding”—”White Wedding” really is angry. And all punk and grunge sounds kind of angry, but “Blister is the Sun” and “I Wanna Be Sedated”, for example, are really just about teenage restlessness, not anger. “Lust for Life” is a happy song, no matter Iggy sounding a bit pissed off. And “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? I’m not convinced that “angry” is what it’s expressing. (He feels stupid and contagious. Here we are now. Entertain us.)

On the other hand, true anger can hide inside music that sounds kind of sweet and poppy. For example, Elvis Costello’s “I Want You” and Liz Phair’s “The Divorce Song” sound sort of sad and sweet, but there’s angry tension throughout. And ever really listen to the lyrics of Barenaked Ladies’ “Alcohol”, “One Week”, or “The Apartment”? Sure it all sounds poppy and bouncy and fun, but the singer is pissed off. He likes alcohol more than you. It will still be three days til he says he’s sorry. Why did you change the locks?

For some artists, tracing the anger pattern in their music is a biographical lesson. Beatles music has very little anger in it; just a bit peeps out in a few John Lennon tracks like “Run for Your Life”, “I’m So Tired”, and “Come Together” (though that last one, again, is probably more horny). But post-Beatles John Lennon? Holy, easier to par out the few songs that aren’t angry. Until the last album, which—other than “I’m Losing You”—shows he’s found some peace.

Bob Geldof’s first album with the Boomtown Rats is highly pissed off, then becomes less so with subsequent albums, as the band’s success grows. His first three post-Rats, post-Live Aid albums reveal a man fairly satisfied, even happy. The last? A man whose wife has left him for another man. A man enraged. A man who has just put out the best album of his career (Sex, Age and Death).

I know the only feeling you have is rage
And I know that I’d feel the same as you, but
I think you’d better take a good look around you ’cause
You’re so pissed you can’t even find your drink

Sometimes it’s wise
To know which way the gun is pointing
Before you yell, “I see the whites of their eyes.”
Sometimes you’ll find your senses all disjointed by
The lines and wires of salesmen, cheats and liars

— Salesmen, Cheats and Liars by Lowest of the Low

Rage wisely.

Blame Katie Holmes

Herewith, the inspiration for my new do:

katie-holmes

Doesn’t she look totally cute here? While I can’t aspire to the flawless complexion, I’m too wigged-out by contacts to achieve the nice hazel eye colour, and I don’t particularly want the wacko Scientologist husband, I can at least approach the sleek bob-ness of her look.

“Surviving” the TV writer’s strike

It’s been somewhat amusing reading some TV columnists on the strike, using adjectives like “dire” and “desperate”, that seem just a wee bit strong to describe a temporary weakness in entertainment options. Truthfully, it’s taken me a while to really notice. After all, shows didn’t run out of scripts immediately. But an awful lot of them have reached that point now. So what am I doing?

Well, probably watching a little less TV, for one! I’m doing more workouts to fitness videos instead of to prerecorded DVR programming (on the treadmill). Maybe I’m reading a little more. But of course, I haven’t given up TV entirely. I’m still watching:

  • CBC stuff. They have four new dramas. I’ve checked them all out, and have stuck with two (the low-rated ones): Jpod, which is weird, but I read the book; and MVP, which has its moments of awkwardness, but is mostly soapy fun. Then there’s the stalwart Marketplace, which I really think more people would benefit from watching.
  • Jon Stewart. It’s not quite the same—he’s calling it A Daily Show instead of The Daily Show—but it remains worth watching in this time of particularly interesting US races for the White House.
  • Documentaries. On PBS, CBC, CTV, and even the Documentary Channel. Often somewhat depressing programming, is the thing, but this week’s DocZone documentary is about Happiness, so it’s not all doom and gloom.
  • Reruns that are new to me. Only this year have I regularly been watching Bones. Lately they’ve been rerunning episodes from past seasons. They’re all new to me, and it’s fun to catch up. (They should start doing that with How I Met Your Mother.)
  • DVDs. Done rewatching My So-Called Life, working on WKRP, with more on standby. And just rented Battlestar Galactica; let’s see how I’ll like that.

I hope the strike doesn’t end until the writers get what they want. Their demands seem perfectly reasonable, the networks very greedy. Be great to have some new episodes back, but in the meantime, I’m “coping” just fine.

Winter weather, winter tires

I’ve been a convert to winter tires for some time now, but a recent episode of Marketplace comparing the performance of all season and winter tires still really struck me. How much farther the all-season car skidded before stopping, at a mere 60 k/hour. The repeated but failed attempts by the expert driver to swerve and avoid hitting a “pedestrian”, compared with the absolute ease of doing so with the winter tires.

The show also had a few facts I didn’t know. Like all season tires start to lose effectiveness at 5C. (I thought it was a little colder.) That even on bare but cold pavement, they make a big difference. That the 10% of Quebec drives who didn’t use snow tires were responsible for 38% of the accidents.

That, with this week’s weather, is making me a little stunned that only 20-30% of Ontario drivers use winter tires. The logical part of my brain understands why: It’s an initial outlay of about $650, and the fact that your all season tires will last twice as long may not be enough to make up for that. You need some place to store an extra set of tires. And it’s just a bother to have to go and get tires changed each season. (Let alone the fact that all season tires are called “all season tires”, which certainly makes you think they ought to work all year around.)

But then I keep getting distracted by thoughts like, well, what is your life worth? And the lives of other drivers? Driving is the most dangerous thing most of us do. Why are you increasing the risk by driving around on hard slippery rubber?