Great Big Sea in Kingston: Nov 27th, 2010

Great Big Sea's Safe Upon The Shore Tour hit Kingston last Saturday night.

I had the good fortune to have a ticket provided by my dear friends Kevin and Myriam (thank you one further time!) to some seats 5 rows back on the floor in front of the stage.

Murray, Alan, Sean, Bob and in the back on the drums, Kris.

  The K-Rock Center seating was tight for anyone who wasn't a Twilight escapee or an anorexic, so most of us immediately gravitated to our feet and stayed there for three hours.

The concert was a mix of the old and the new, starting off with several lively old favourites and rolling into the newer material, including some powerful sea shantys. Powerful stuff and dark in quite a few places - there were jokes made on stage about having 3 songs in the set with hanging involved and another about chemical workers. Sean pointed out it was worse because his toddler was singing 'Old Black Rum'!

Sean plays the balron.

The band did two long sets, running overlength in both sets (they were on stage 45 minutes longer than the people running the K-Rock Center expected). They indicated they had no professional obligations the following day (the rest of their tour schedule is hairy) and were in no hurry. They were conversational and showed good humour and an appreciation for their own success.

They spoke of their US touring, of their generous Canadian nature in congratulating the Americans on their splendid Silver medal finish in Men's and Women's Olympic Hockey, and of how greatful they were to their fans for their success. It was a near sellout crowd at the K-Rock Center as testament to that success.

Alan sings an encore by himself.

They also proved they could play a ridiculous number of instruments with equal facility - I saw Alan play acoustic guitar, something that looked like a mandolin, a banjo, and an electric guitar (at the least). Sean played harmonica, shakers, guitar, balron and probably other instruments I missed. Kris did drums and accordian plus wielded a mean fiber optic camera. Bob is in a league all his own: Accordions three, fiddle, guitar, shakers, tin whistle, flute, and I'm sure I'm missing several others.




Great Big Sea demonstrated showmanship; They made the human connection with the people of Kingston by sharing a shared love of hockey, of music, and of good fun (and apple juice *wink*). They shared an their humour, their love of the maritimes and the music of the east coast and their love of Canada first and foremost.

The boys backup Sean on the chorus.

They also made tangible the connection to their past by speaking of playing at Queens University, at A.J. Hangar, and at the Grand Theater, and partying on Princess Street. Tir Nan Og was also mentioned. These are some of the landmarks of the town and they've been in and out of their since  the mid 1990s, claiming they've "never had a bad night in Kingston".

If you like maritime music, if you like folk music, if you like dark tales about the sea or about life on the east coast, or if you like jumping and stomping kitchen party music, Great Big Sea has it all. Vocals, instruments, and powerful or funny lyrics - they are the musical triple threat, to be sure.



Well worth the money. I'm considering raiding a piggy bank to see them again in Ottawa.

Check out their albums. They're worth it. My favourite tunes are "Recruiting Sergeant" and "General Taylor", but some of the songs Sean sang lately, presumably from Safe Upon The Shore, make we want to grab that Album too. I'll bet Steve Jobs is waiting to sell them to me via the iSuckTheMoneyOutOfYourWallet interface.

Alan, Kris, Bob, Sean and Murray: Good show, Lads!

A Worrisome Development

On the Saturday before last, I moved Derek. During the move, I thought a wasp stung me and I'm allergic. But I could find no insertion and although the arm hurt like a sting, I saw no red lump forming, nor any red tracery running up my veins as usually transpires in such cases with me.

I finished helping with the unpacking and even scared off Jormundgandr, the World Serpent, to protect the McQuay householders.

Then, Tuesday night last week, I discovered a lump on my left inner forearm about 2" above the wrist. It was no sore nor itchy. It was fairly solid and had appeared, to me, out of nowhere. It moved around, but felt fleshy.

The truth is, when I encountered this, I was unsettled. I'm of the age now where things could happen more likely than not and some of them could be quite bad.

I took some pictures. About 30mm radially, and about 20mm longitudinally, maybe 5-8mm deep (hard to measure).

On Wednesday night, I broke down and went to the clinic across the way. I've been needing a new G.P. and they were accepting patients. I saw a nice young Serbian (I think) woman, Dr. Cavarcek (could have the spelling wrong).

She poked and prodded, indicating that the mobile nature and the roundness mitigated for something less harmful, but the hardness was a concern. She said it probably was not life threatening, but I could not correlate it back to any blow and it didn't look like a wasp or bee sting of any sort. She felt an ultrasound was required, then possibly or likely a biopsy.

Ominously, she told me to return if it seemed to be growing quickly.

I went to schedule an ultrasound on Thursday morning, after not sleeping well Wednesday night. I talked to a couple of folks, but not many as some of my friends are the sorts to worry overmuch or have a lot on their own plates.

The ultrasound places I talked to first (first two) were indicated Nov 24+ dates. Eek! The third place was good and gave me today at 1 PM (Tuesday), so a week after initial discovery. That seemed reasonable. I only had to endure 4-5 days of uncertainty.

I found out I had a sort of unsettled anxiety. Not a concious layer fear - I haven't ever been afraid of dying. Frankly, I didn't expect to make it past 35. But an unconcious anxiety, that was interesting, if annoying.

The concious concerns were more about the mess my apartment was in, my financial paperwork was in, my non-existent will was in, and my estate would be in. Also of course I realized that the efforts I'd made in the last months to start considering a will were insufficiently advanced.

I never made a will before because it didn't seem to serve a purpose. I had no one to leave anything much to. And I didn't think I'd need it.

Well, this convinced me I'd been negligent. I have a Godson. He has a sick little brother. I have many other friends with children. I have some friends who have been very good to me (you know who you are). I have some friends who might be able to use a hand.

So all that made me think I should specify where things went and get it written down as well as getting my life and financials in order.

None of this was from a dark fear of what might come from the scan, but was just a pragmatic realization I'm not administratively prepared to shuffle off this mortal coil, if that was what was required.

I looked up some of the options: Lipoma and Adenopathy seemed the least of the evils, Liposarcoma sounded scary and likely deadly.

I still have no fear of dying. I have a fear of leaving a mess behind. I have a fear of my books not being delegated to a good home. I have a fear of my parents being left without me. Dying itself... that's a natural thing and I've been at peace with that since my teenage years. Maybe it is the mark of not being so attached to my own life - it seems unremarkable most days. Maybe it is simply the knowledge that you can't cheat the Reaper. The realization of my mortality at an early age made joining the Army Reserve easier - I actually accepted again the possibility of a death and it didn't phase me.

But then, I don't have a wife or children. I do have elderly parents and that is now a concern and I'm now a proxy second tier backup parent for a young man. But those are still sort of diffuse compared with what it must be like to have a spouse or children and have to face mortality.

Anyway, today was my visit to the ultrasound clinic. It was fast, although the scan tech went and brought in the radiologist. The radiologist, probably unofficially, indicated that it was in the muscle layer, it had a pocket/clot of blood, and was likely a muscle tear. He said athletes frequently have these as do people doing 'unaccustomed exercise'. I guess that could mean 41 year old computer programmers moving things.

The doc will have the final word. But it looks like it'll either go away on its own or be aspirated and drained surgically. No biopsy. No tumour. No cancer. (At least, not there - that's the optimist in me!)

So I do feell lucky. Another friend just reported to me quietly that he had a dose of diabetes. My mom's leg has been cold, possibly signifying a circulation issue. They are talking about taking off the bottom part of Dad's leg. All of that comes with the signs of mortality even more obvious than my grey hairs.

Still, I'm glad I got a by on this one. I still want to see Scotland, NZ, Australia, bits of Germany, Belgium, Ireland and England. I still want to write a book. I still want to read my unfinished books (I should live forever!). I still want to see my Godson grow up and my other friend's kids become fully developed adults. I still want to play some more games and share in the warm wit and companionship of my dear friends and cook nice meals and treats for them every so often. I still want to sail. I still want to connect again with old friends.

So, I've got time to get my life organized again (at least it seems that way). I've got time to keep moving on the things I want to do or need to do. I've got time to lose some weight and to write and to travel.

And I've got time to thank each and every one of my friends who has shared so many times, good and bad, with me over the years. To thank them for being my friends and for being outstanding human beings. On the dark days, I just think of them to counteract any negative perception of the bulk of humanity.

I've got a bum wrist for a while. But I'm good. Really. Something like this really reminds you what matters.

Best regards to all of my friends, wherever you may be!



Tom B.

PS - To show you the universe has a sense of humour, it throws me this bone, this good outcome. And then it drops the OPP on me for an expired Valtag. $110 to remind me that the world goes on even when you sometimes gum up and don't get the job done.

PPS - I'm still good though. It's hard to damp this level of good.

Surprisingly Good Chicken!

• A blurp of olive oil in a non-stick saucepan
• 2 air-dryed chicken breasts (or some such fancy folderol)
• Flour, in which the breasts were rubbed to cover them
• A splat of butter in the olive oil
• Salt and pepper

Saute the chicken until it is about 75-80% done - maybe starts to brown a bit on the outside, and the inside fluids come out clear if you skewer it. While cooking, turn frequently - doubly so if using a non-stick pan.

Set the chicken aside in a bowl at that point.

Add to your saucepan:

• 3 cloves of minced garlic (or else garlic powder as I apparently forgot to get garlic!)
• fresh cilantro (I used refrigerated paste, nearly as good)
• fresh oregano (I used the freeze dried stuff, nearly as good)
• more salt and pepper if you need it
• some parsley flakes
• 1/2 to 3/4 cup of white wine

Cook over a medium heat, turning the chicken fairly infrequently, until it is done. Reduce the sauce until it is a desired thickness - I went for less thick than gravy, more thick than wine - maybe salad dressing thickness.

Serve with some rice or a salad, dump the remainder of the reduced sauce over the chicken to get all the flavour explosion your taste buds could ask for!

Surprsingly good! Tangy, with a hint of sweet (from the wine, I used a white that was sweeter rather than dry), but infused with the melange of herbal flavours. And moist!

For a first try at 'basic chicken' (not in a khorma or butter chicken sauce or a soup), I'm pretty happy with the outcome. I don't usually eat much chicken as I find most of it flavourless and often dried out.

I think I'll be eating more chicken now that I know this easy, tasty, moist chicken recipe!

Friends help you move, best friends help you move bodies (or snakes)

 
This last Saturday, I journeyed to the scenic town of Kingston. I made this pilgrimage because my dear friend Mr. Bugbear was moving house. Or, more accurately, my dear friend Mr. Bugbear, his family members, and his dear friends were moving house.

He was finally achieving his dream of once again fleeing civilization for the scenic backwoods of Ontario, where he and Mrs. Bugbear could raise true free-range children in a green space. A large yard, a monster workshop (and not just because Mr. Bugbear will be working there), a nice house, and a yard with all sorts of apple trees... a castle in the rough!

Mr. Bugbear and the Bugbears' male relatives did much of the heavy shufting on Friday. On the Saturday, there was some ancillary loading to be accomplished, but it filled maybe 20% of the 5 ton truck.

Feeling somewhat underwhelmed at how little we got to help due to the success Friday, Sir Douglas and I ventured to begin unpacking several pods worth of pre-packed goods that the Bugbears had packed and had shipped out to sit, like looming menhirs, upon their drive.

Unpacking these pods proved a worthwhile venture, both in terms of making Sir Douglas and myself feel truly useful and because Mr. Bugbear has a formidable pile of hardcover books. Mr. Bugbear's parental unit provided the pickup bed to assist in pod-to-back-of-house delivery and the library was transhipped without incident.

There was also the moving of a couch downstairs, using years of Furniture Ninja Training. It worked out well and nothing was broken, much like the move of the clearly-compensating-if-you-get-my-drift LCD uberscreen.

Somewhere along the line, one of the neighbours (a nice couple with two young chitlins) showed up to introduce themselves. Shortly thereafter, another local denizen showed up. A small garter snake (well, I'm guessing, I wouldn't know a garter snake from a plumbing snake...) showed up, coming in while we were unloading books.

My theory is he was looking for a warm place to sleep for the winter. He might also have smelled cat and thought it was a delicacy. Hard to say, he's a snake after all.

He wasn't as big around as my ring finger and only about fifteen inches long. However, this provoked a modicum of minor panic. Various suggestions were made, several of which involved his demise which I thought a bit unnecessary. The serpent-o-phobes in the house disagreed, but since they were unwilling to interact with the creature, my kinder nature prevailed.

I attempted to bag and remove our small, serpentine friend. I concede that snakelike flexibility and agility makes it hard to bag such a critter. However, I then opted for stomping percussion to 'encourage' our guest to s-s-slither his way back out the way he came, and he complied. He then dropped between the boards of the deck, where I suspect he and other snakes must regularly dwell.

So, the harmless serpent was saved, the terrified househoulders were rescued, and justice triumphed out throughout the lands!

A good move, a nice new home, another construction project or 10 to involve myself in, and a promise to let me harvest some apples for jam. (Note: Said promise was not cleared with Mrs. Bugbear, so I do not consider it actually binding...)

 

Visiting Missouri

 
I just returned from visiting my dear cousin Alan and his lovely and talented wife Linda in Clinton, MO.

There was a trip to the Truman Dam and the man-made (huge) Truman Lake.

There was a birthday cake, carrot with coconut pecan icing.

There was beer. Never to the point of regret, just a steady flow of 2-4 drinks a day (some were Rye Whisky after I found a 26-er for $10 US and that was a mid priced brand... if I lived in Missouri, with a 40-oz vodka bottle for $7, I'd fear for my liver). The drinks were just pleasant accompanyment and aided in significant unwinding.

Missouri was a bit too hot most days (very humid mid eighties) and a bit too wet (torrentially so) a few others, but the day everyone had off work was nice as was the last weekend.

There was some really good pizza including a visit to Imo's in Kansas city. Also a visit to the StackShack for some excellent BBQ. There was also a good pizza or two from the local Dominos in Clinton (good!) and El Sombre's enchiladas and tacos and so forth. All in all, I ate well.

There was much XBox... a first for me. Red Dead Redemption (cowboy RPG/shooter) was a scream - some out of place tech (M1998 broom-handle Mauser or the M1911) and was easily the most fun shooter I've played in a long time! FIFA (soccer) was frustrating but fun. Worms (casual game involving worms using various weapons to whack the other team) was funny. Modern Warfare 2 was graphically impressive, but gameplay was a bit silly - when a bunny hopping CT operator leaped round a corner and blasted me with a Barret .50 in mid-leap, that more or less defined the game for me.

There was karaoke - one day Alan and I scorched and abused a variety of tunes (many Scots pop hits and folk bits I hadn't heard) and another day it was Linda and I (she has an excellent singing voice) doing the Eagles and some similar material. I know I personally exterminated Loch Lommond, some CCR, and did a quite passable job on Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire (that's a fast tune). And yes, before you ask, me and karaoke - their WAS alcahol involved.

Mostly, me and Alan just hung out. That was spiffy. I quite enjoy my cousin even when he's gone off his noodle with his theories about the moon landing, the pentagon crash on 9/11 and some other oddities. I assume he was hit in the head with a fitba' one time too many during his days as a young soccer hooligan.

A totally enjoyable trip, I look forward to visiting again. Linda and Alan were excellent hosts, and Charlie and Winston (the cats) were both affectionate as well.
 

Forty-Two

 
August 30th, 1968: Mary Douglas Mitchell and Robert Andrew Barclay wed. Just over a year later, I arrive on the scene.

Today marks the 42^nd Anniversary of my parent's wedding. Needless to say, I celebrate it because it was that wedding that gave rise to my existence.

Beyond that, I celebrate it because it is a sign that love and commitment have a place in our world. I remember that there were tough times where no one was sure whether the marriage would stand (or at least I wasn't sure). I note that those times were weathered and passed into the mists of the long forgotten past.

I celebrate the fact that I was brought up with two decent parents, in a loving home, and the way in which they chose to live demonstrated principles like commitment, integrity, honour, and steadfastness. Not every person born to this world is so fortunate

Most of all, I celebrate the fact that my two best friends in the world are still together in spite of the many challenges life has laid before them in those 42 years. Some time ago, my parents moved from being just 'Mom and Dad' to being dear friends as well.

Mom, Dad: Here's to you for living your values and being a class act all the way.



 

Gratitude

 
I've been looking into preparing a last will and testament, preparing funerary instructions, and preparing a living will. I've also been debating whether any one of my friends deserves, despite the offer of assistance, the task of acting as executor.

I'm not fond of letting the state carry out my wishes. They can't secure my airports, deport illegal visitors, host a G8/G20 without a riot, or understand citizens should be more important to them than lobbyist dollars. Why would I trust them to carry out my final instructions?

Equally, some of my instructions are fairly particular. I don't think anyone not conversant with my hobby activities could successfully see to the disposition of some of the goods without a "Subject Matter Expert (Games)".

And I don't know much about how Trusts are or can be created here in Canada. If planning a wedding can take a year and involves two people, I figure planning my departure thus probably will take six months to get all the ducks in a line. Hopefully its not half as expensive as the average wedding or I'll end up owing someone just for the priviledge of shuffling off this mortal coil.

I'm not really in a rush to do that nor am I really expecting it. But I live a moderate risk lifestyle and life has a sense of humour one could best call 'actively macabre'. So I figure I could go anytime. Heck, by my early life accounting, I've been living on borrowed time for at least 5-10 years. I always figured I'd *be* one of those statistics you read about, the ones where you said "He was so young..." or "He was too good to come to such an end...".

As it turns out, I'm getting old and we know what Billy Joel said about who it is that dies young (hint: old folks don't get to stay good).

All that is bureaucratic and involved. But you know, the process involved has driven my mind to further shores. It seems to touch on matters of what you'd like to leave to who, final messages to each, what you'd like your headstone (if you have one) to say, any sort of memorial donations you'd like to make, the method of your 'preparation/disposal', and so on.

And that's the good part; When I found myself thinking about my friends (Dear Lord, the notification list for my passing will be long....), I once again reaffirmed my conviction that my life has been rather splendid.

Being born in Canada has certainly helped. It's like winning the lottery as far as places to be born and live to be born here. Can't fault my luck there none.

And parents? Got great ones - tough, pragmatic, compassionate, enduring, and unafraid to speak their minds (And how! Oi vey!). Can't find faults that matter with either of them and got a good deal from them as far as a start in life goes.

Then come the friends. I think of them as a great, big extended family. I've got so many good friends I can depend on, I can confide in, I can talk to, I can game with or otherwise have fun with, and whose lives I am genuinely interested in and whose fates I care greatly about. By this accounting, I have truly been a wealthy man in the only really important sense of wealth in this life.

And then there is my Godson. That's a blessing the like of which any man is lucky to have. He's the closest thing I have or may have to my own young one. That's a gift so precious I can't really find words to do it justice.

I've been debating what words I might like on my headstone. I think that's going to take some thinking. So many good quotes, so many parting lines....

Maybe I should just stick with "Blessed with the best friends a man could ask for."

 

Perspective

This month has been a trying month.

• I'm late with my taxes. The tax folks have some form of annoyance with me that I haven't even had the time to investigate. 
  
• I'm working on a very big, complex task for my client's client's client's client. It is technically challenging and there have been exacerbations - incorrect direction, stumbling blocks from their R&D folks (not bad ones, but stumbling blocks nonetheless), a lack of subject-matter expertise for quite a time, network outages at their place, our move back to the office of my client's client, more service interruptions on that side from both a switch malfunction and some firewall rules knocking out the VPN tunnel, and so on. All in all, the stuff of grey hairs, ulcers, and heart attacks.
  
• My Godson's little brother arrives 12 weeks early by emergency C-section, playing dice with his own safety and the mother's. And he ends up with a bowel problem an an ileostomy... at under 3 pounds in weight. He has had great care at CHEO, but he's got a ways to go yet before he gets a normal, safe life. I've been worried about my friend, his wife, my Godson, and his new little brother Alexander. A strong name for a small one confronted with such a hard start to life, but so far he seems to be struggling his way along despite the hurdles. Still, I worry.
  
• Dad spent 3+ weeks in the hospital getting a vacc treatment on his ulcer. That had me visiting or talking to him every day. I must have spent 20 hours a week doing that in addition to my work. It was good, but tiring. He's home and things have dropped back to reasonable levels. But it was a stressful from a schedule perspective and worrying about Mom being home alone and her having some breathless spells that are probably heart function related. More stress there.
  
• I had a minor dust up with a friend over some sort of misunderstanding. I don't think either of us came across clearly, but the whole event caused me great anguish. I wish that particular episode could have been lived out differently.
  
• Tonight, my cousin in Missouri informed me that his mother, in Motherwell, Scotland (my Mother's sister) was admitted to hospital with a lung clot after having had what they thought was a persistent lung infection. Everyone is quite worried about Aunt B. I know it has me worried. I'd go to her if I could. Not that I could do anything, but I feel for her and really hope she is getting good care. I'm not sure what to think of the British medical system.

Anyway, having said all of that....

Life is not easy, nor simple, nor does it progress smoothly, nor end in a dignified, orderly, scheduled fashion, nor does it begin in a dignified, orderly, scheduled fashion... 

... but it happens. And it perserveres. And it persists. And we fight and we do what we must, whether we are 78 or -3 months old. 

There are a lot of things in life that could make one despair, lament, or just simply tire out and give up. But we soldier on and try to make the best of a tough hand, hoping the next deal will be a bit better and we can grow our stake. 

In a perverse way, I think that's optimism. I think that's the quality that makes me understand that nothing confronting humanity today will be our death knell. In every age, there has been challenge, horror, and stalwart and intransigent refusal to give in to the dark parts, to let the candle of hope go out. 

I don't actually believe that every day in this life on this side of the daisies is a good one. I've seen proof of that. But I do believe that where there is life, there is hope. And with life and hope, their is a beauty, a purity of the human spirit. 

When people you love are suffering, you suffer with them. When people are in need yet their is naught you can do for them, you feel diminished. Yet from their courage and from their forbearance and from their simple endurance, one can take solace and perspective. 

What matters in life isn't the worst of days, or the least of days, nor the number of days. What matters is not solely the quality of life or the material goods that we accumulate. What matters is not that we suffer, that we feel pain, or that we sometimes give in to desolation. 


What matters is that we remember the good moments. We hold onto hope and to beauty. We hold on to courage and try to encourage it in others. We hold onto love and to family. We hold onto friends. And we hold onto the conviction that there is good in the world and that it matters more than all of the dark, parlous times. 


We hold onto the candle that gutters in the night but does not go out, a light in the darkness - perhaps dim, but shining on. 

"When you can't run, you crawl. When you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you." 

-- Firefly TV Series, episode titled The Message (and so it is!)

  

Recreating a 3,400 year old Mesoamerican Beer

Part food science, part archaeology, all excellent!


Beer from chocolate....

Burger Recipes: Lamburger, Porkburger, and other fun things

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/26/dining/26mini.html

Non DRM Video, Audio, Books....

Some interesting examples of non-DRM video....

http://www.boingboing.net/2010/04/30/eztakes-5000-strong.html

http://openflix.com/


http://www.archive.org/index.php

Some of these contain more than just video (archive.org especially). Documents, books, audio, etc.

Some of us have a hate on for Mr. Jobs and his DRM. Some of us have a hate on for Mr. Balmer and his DRM. Some of us have a hate on for all of Sony and the DRM. So here are some alternatives, including some odd quirky pieces. I like to support such efforts because they are headed in a direction I think we should be headed, rather than in the direction Corporate Powers think we should be headed.

I'm not a Commie pinko and I do want to see worthy art lead to rewarded artists. But I do object to presumptions of the value of art (it has none just because someone created it or just because someone tries to assign it a value - if nobody is willing to pay that, it does not have that value). I object to assumptions about what I should or should not pay for a priori, sight unseen, and simply because someone else thinks so.

Beyond that, I object to limitations on format transference and personal use. Books must really piss off some of these modern sources of media - they want paid for every view (including multiple views by the same user or views by multiple viewers such as a home presentation of a DVD or loaning a friend a good book). I'm afraid they are not the sole voice in this debate and they don't get to choose the definition our society accepts of the value of media, of art, of fair use and fair dealing, and of just remuneration for artists and for the corporate combines that power distribution.

This is a dialogue our society needs to have. We need to define our boundaries and not let lobbyists and corporations do so. Most of us acknowledge we do want to see reasonable recompense for musicians, movie makers, authors, designers, artists of all forms. There may be some argument as to what just compensation is.

There is no argument that corporate interests have a finanical motive to constrict and restrict our use of various forms of art, trying to repeatedly sell us the same thing, trying to sell us things we cannot share even though such sharing may well lead to greater aggregate exposure and sales for the works.

The dialogue needs to be had and the politicians and legislators need to listen so that whatever protection systems we have in law for intellectual property rights are useful to us as a society and aren't strictly to benefit corporate interests. The government is still voted in by the people and paid for by the citizen's taxes in large part.

So, go take a look at some of the alternatives to paying iTunes, Sony or Microsoft or the MPAA or RIAA a boatload of your money.

Another Reason Canada Is A Good Place To Live

 

Ignoring the immense natural bounties of the land, ignoring our skills at sports of all sorts, ignoring our brave soldiers, sailors, airmen, and first responders, ignoring our stable regulation and the stable financial positions of our banks, and ignoring our decently respectable economic outlook.... there are still a thousand good reasons to live here, to be proud of doing so, and to be happy one does.

Today, Google unveiled a map of the world, showing the number of Government takedown requests and user information requests it had been presented with over the preceeding the second half of 2009.

Of course, China's stats don't appear on here because they are a State Secret and probably because they'd dwarf all the others put together. But for a nation afraid of Falun Gong and the Dalai Lama, repressing Buddhists and harvesting Falun Gong members for organs, what's a ridiculous amount of censorship and investigation?

I have the good fortune to live in Canada, not China. I daily thank my parents and my grandparents for that. Their choice to come from the Old Country to Canada means I have been born into a wonderful nation, with good people, a good standard of living, and a good position to achieve great ends.

One of the other interesting thing about this graph is the comparitive statistics of Canada and the USA. The USA is known as 'land of the free, home of the brave'. The latter is probably true enough, but I begin to doubt the former. Google is illustrative of my concern: The number of takedowns requests in Canada and the US loosely parallels per-capita populations in the countries and gives nothing one way or the other to comment on. On the other hand, the number of government queries about user information in the US is approximately 100 times (round figures) what the Canadian total is, or 10 times as great adjusted to be per-capita.

Do we really think the States requires 10 times as much data (per capita) about dangerous groups and people (or less dangerous, reasonably innocuous ones) as Canada does? I have a strong doubt. I think this is a further sign of the creepingly Orwellian State of the Land of the Free since the psychic trauma of the 9/11 attacks bent and damaged the American collective pscyhe.

I'm not bashing the Americans; Rather, this one time, I feel a bit of pity for them for the sad state of affairs that have brought about the current situation. But at the same time, I feel proud of our country hewing to a moderate path and generally striking a balance between security (we've busted some bomb plots and stopped others I'm sure we'll never hear of) and insecurity (overbearing legislation that is intrusive in the name of an illusion of security).

I'm marking one in the win column for Canada. And I'm proud of us.

 

Pairing Beer And Cheese - A Brief How To

http://www.slashfood.com/2010/03/23/cheese-and-beer-pairings-101-cheese-course/

Captain Hunter Visits The Cold Wastes of K7M-8X7

 My friend Chris visited Ontario this last fall. We got together at my friend Doug's House and had some good times, except Doug kept the house at a Canadian Temperature which left poor Chris, a hothouse plant from the South, shivering all the time.

Notice Derek wearing a 'Periodic Table of Ammunition' T-shirt. Only one of my friends (or I) would consider that acceptable dress...

The New Job

 

Well, I'm back among the ranks of those expecting to pay taxes.

I am working on a five month contract with Alcea, who has me contracted to bitHeads, who've placed me at Bridgewater Systems. Bridgewater makes hardware and software that supports provisioning of 3G and 4G data networks. I'm working on post-sales support for some major US cell data carriers - feature implementation, bug identification and repair, etc.

It's a big, complex environment with lots to learn (oh boy, is there ever!) and a large degree of customer-focus. There are lots of technologies involved and a lot of internal business processes to grok as well as understanding the technical architecture and who is who in the company and how I relate to them.

Still, it promises to be interesing and challenging. And busy. But it will help keep a roof over my head.

I did also manage to come down with a bronchial infection, but so far its mostly just been 'drag' on my level of function. I've managed pretty much full work weeks and crash out for a sleep after work. I'm taking loads of vitamins, but it isn't showing much sign of shifting... last one lasted seven weeks. This one is heading into its second now.

Still, I'm a lot better off than a lot of folks, so I'm not going to complain.

Good to be back at it.
 
 

For St. Patrick's Day: 10 Guiness Recipes!

 

http://www.chow.com/stories/10971

The Guiness Cupcakes.... Braised Beef.... all sorts of other goodness!
 
 

1980: Canadian diplomat runs CIA operative and funnels intel to US

 

In 1980, the US Embassy in Iran was taken by Islamic fundamentalist terrorists. Some of the US students hid out in the Canadian Embassy. What was not known publicly was a Canadian diplomat, with concurrence of the Canadian government, agreed to run an intelligence gathering operation for the USA on the situation in Tehran and at the US Embassy.

The diplomat and the mission's head of security (CF Sgt) and a CIA operative worked together to gather intelligence and it was passed by way of External Affairs (through very few hands, though shown to External Affairs Minister and the PM) to the US.

This intel helped prepare for the failed US rescue attempt (the failure was not the fault of the intelligence, for those who don't know).

The situation in Tehran also had an odd Canadian political dimension. Flora McDonald (Minister of External Affairs for the Clarke Government) was busy conducting affairs related to this situation in Europe when she missed her flight home and missed the close vote that toppled the Clarke government.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/canadas-man-in-tehran-was-a-cia-spy/article1441545/
 
 

Canned Beer is 75 years young!

 

http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20100123/sc_livescience/cannedbeerturns75
 
 

Beer: Can't cure cancer, but might prevent it!

 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1243754/Why-beer-latest-hope-fight-cancer.html
 
 

On Turning 75

 

My mother is now reaching the three-quarter century mark. I mistakenly thought it was 74, but subsequent investigation proves me wrong.

Three-quarters of a century is a long time. You see a lot of things, good and bad, in that time. The fact is my mother seems to bear her various challenges, some of which I might even call 'greater than average', with aplomb and with a certain dignity. She's a far stronger person I think (as is my father) than I might be in the same situation. And she does not let her circumstances and her decaying health lead her into despair or a negative outlook upon the world. That is, to me, the most amazing part.

I figure now all she has to do is hang on for another few decades and maybe she'll see me settled down and with some grandkids for her. (Okay, who am I kidding? I'm terminally single and grandkids are fairly unlikely....)

At least she gets to enjoy my friends kids. That's the closest I think she'll get to having any grandkids of her own now.

Here's to 75 years young! As an earthy friend of mine observed recently about my Dad's 77th birthday: "Any day on the right side of the flowers is a good day."