I No Longer Believe in Dentists: An Ode

My teeth did not hurt.

I went to the dentist because people told me to.

I went to the dentist because people were all like, “YOU’VE ONLY BEEN TO THE DENTIST ONCE!?! THAT’S DISGUSTING!!”

I went to the dentist because it’s supposed to be good for you and it was covered under my insurance.

So I went to the dentist.

At the dentist, they spent four hours fixing all the terrible things that were wrong with my teeth.

At the dentist, they charged me $400 because my insurance, which covers 100% of dental care, only estimated 80% of how much it would cost. So it covered 100% of 80% of the price.

At the dentist, they stabbed and poked and prodded 100% more than what felt natural.

It has now been a month since I went to the dentist.

Now, my mouth feels like a tiny game of soccer is being played inside of it 24/7, with a dagger as the soccer ball.

Now, my mouth literally starts crying at the thought of eating something cold.

Now, I have 400 less dollars.

Peer pressure sucks. Dentists suck. And I am re-applying my mother’s mantra that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I no longer believe in dentists.

Creation

I have a confession. The poem from my last post was a bit of a joke.

One of our prompts for Creative Writing was to take a poem in another language and translate it as you hear it. Seeing as I already sing along with Sigur Ros despite the fact that it is in Icelandic (/Hopelandish), I figured it was worth a shot. "I'll Lick His Sin Good" was the result after I organized it a bit and I was entertained to find that it actually sounded like a real poem.

This could be a commentary on how you can find beauty and art in everything, even when it starts off as nothing. It could also be a commentary on how liberal poets are actually just pretentious people spitting useless jargon. Or it could just be a commentary on how finals do stupid things to students' brains, resulting in creations like this. Whatever your perspective, enjoy the real version. (It's entertaining to listen and read along with the words below.)

How silver I’ll

Least that I’m acclimating

Always the glout

Scared of skirt-then image

In Oscar’s mirror

Oh look at a way we’re out

Now give us a

No right to sigh

Oh maid

Ouster the Prague

In the cart of sprinkle

Look here, you Prague

On the other sequel

In Oscar’s mirror

Oh look at a way we’re out

Now give us a

Now far a dance

All penguins the slow, slow stead

While I disa—

I’ll gnaw you one

All night

Lambaste the winner

Cry used ant dinner

Ya kinky towelly

Or rent a howly

Or eat clam outin

Ye follow me cloutin

The army victims

The army kisses

I’ll rip my panter

I’ll toast to Anter

He’s sitting like him

He’s sitting like him!

I mean my simple

I’ll lick his sin good

I’ll start de vala

With lip and trala

I’ll turn this smile off

Leave a s-car on

Err... Emmy Ralla

He pushed him farther

He bested ‘im-a

Cry you some dinner

I used to know him

He followed me gloating

Ye kinky towelly

Or rent a howlly

The army victims

The army kisses

I’ll rip my banter

I’ll toast to anter

He’s sitting like him

He’s sitting like him!

I mean my simple

I’ll lick his sin good.

Resolution

I already mentioned the Creative Writing class that I'm in in a previous blog, and still have a whole lot more to say on the matter. For now, I'm just going to post some of the stuff that I'm working on. I had a lot of fun with this one.

I’ll Lick His Sin Good

(Accompanied to the sound of schoolboys hopping)

How silver,

Well at least I’m acclimating.

Always the glout,

Scared of skirted images.

In Oscar’s mirror:

“Oh! Look at the way we’re out!”

Now give us a—no right to sigh—

Oh maid!

Ouster the Prague,

In carts of sprinkle

Look here, you Prague

At the other sequel

In Oscar’s mirror:

“Oh look at a way we’re out!”

Now give us a—how far is a—

a dance.

All penguins; the slow, slow stead

While I disa—

I’ll gnaw you one

All night.

Lambaste the winner,

Cry “Used ant dinner!”

You kinky towel-ly.

Or rent a Howly

Or eat clam outin’

Or follow me cloutin’.

The army victims,

The army kisses.

I’ll rip my banter,

I’ll toast to Anter.

He’s sitting like him.

He’s sitting like him!

I mean it’s simple:

I’ll lick his sin good.

I’ll start De Vala,

With lip and trala,

I’ll turn his smile off

But leave his scar on.

See Emmy Ralla,

He pushed him farther;

He bested him.

Cry, you, for some dinner

For I used to know him;

He followed me gloating.

Buy a kinky towel-ly,

Or rent a Howly.

The army victims,

The army kisses.

I’ll rip my banter,

I’ll toast to Anter.

He’s sitting like him.

He’s sitting like him!

I mean, my Simple:

I’ll lick his sin good.

The Last Man

In my Romanticism class we are reading The Last Man by Mary Shelley, which is decent for the most part, but not overly exciting. It's written in a very strange manner, where actual scenes aren't described; it is mostly just a recounting of events told from an almost uninvested narrator. Strange. I'm not in love with it, though I did read this one monologue by a character that I really really enjoy. It's a bit long, yes, but I love the truth in it.

"O happy earth, and happy inhabitants of earth! A stately palace has God built for you, O man! and worthy are you of your dwelling! Behold the verdant carpet spread at our feet, and the azure canopy above; the fields of earth which generate and nurture all things, and the track of heaven, which contains and clasps all things. Now, at this evening hour, at the period of repose and refection, methinks all hearts breathe one hymn of love and thanksgiving, and we, like priests of old on the mountain-tops, give a voice to their sentiment.

Assuredly a most benignant power built up the majestic fabric we inhabit, and framed the laws by which it endures. If mere existence, and not happiness, had been the final end of our being, what need of the profuse luxuries which we enjoy? Why should our dwelling place be so lovely, and why should the instincts of nature minister pleasurable sensations? The very sustaining of our animal machine is made delightful; and our sustenance, the fruits of the field, is painted with transcendent hues, endued with grateful odours, and palatable to our taste. Why should this be, if HE were not good? We need houses to protect us from the seasons, and behold the materials with which we are provided; the growth of trees with their adornment of leaves; while rocks of stone piled above the plains variegate the prospect with their pleasant irregularity.

Nor are outward objects alone the receptacles of the Spirit of Good. Look into the mind of man, where wisdom reigns enthroned; where imagination, the painter, sits, with his pencil dipt in hues lovelier than those of sunset, adorning familiar life with glowing tints. What a noble boon, worthy the giver, is the imagination ! it takes from reality its leaden hue: it envelopes all thought and sensation in a radiant veil, and with an hand of beauty beckons us from the sterile seas of life, to her gardens, and bowers, and glades of bliss. And is not love a gift of the divinity? Love, and her child, Hope, which can bestow wealth on poverty, strength on the weak, and happiness on the sorrowing.

My lot has not been fortunate. I have consorted long with grief, entered the gloomy labyrinth of madness, and emerged, but half alive. Yet I thank God that I have lived! I thank God, that I have beheld his throne, the heavens, and earth, his footstool. I am glad that I have seen the changes of his day; to behold the sun, fountain of light, and the gentle pilgrim moon; to have seen the fire bearing flowers of the sky, and the flowery stars of earth; to have witnessed the sowing and the harvest. I am glad that I have loved, and have experienced sympathetic joy and sorrow with my fellow-creatures. I am glad now to feel the current of thought flow through my mind, as the blood through the articulations of my frame; mere existence is pleasure; and I thank God that I live!

And all ye happy nurslings of mother-earth, do ye not echo my words? Ye who are linked by the affectionate ties of nature, companions, friends, lovers! fathers, who toil with joy for their offspring; women, who while gazing on the living forms of their children, forget the pains of maternity; children, who neither toil nor spin, but love and are loved!

Oh, that death and sickness were banished from our earthly home! that hatred, tyranny, and fear could no longer make their lair in the human heart! that each man might find a brother in his fellow, and a nest of repose amid the wide plains of his inheritance ! that the source of tears were dry, and that lips might no longer form expressions of sorrow. Sleeping thus under the beneficent eye of heaven, can evil visit thee, O Earth, or grief cradle to their graves thy luckless children? Whisper it not, let the demons hear and rejoice! The choice is with us; let us will it, and our habitation becomes a paradise. For the will of man is omnipotent, blunting the arrows of death, soothing the bed of disease, and wiping away the tears of agony. And what is each human being worth, if he do not put forth his strength to aid his fellow-creatures? My soul is a fading spark, my nature frail as a spent wave; but I dedicate all of intellect and strength that remains to me, to that one work, and take upon me the task, as far as I am able, of bestowing blessings on my fellow-men!"

Legit.

Little Match Girl

I am in a class called Creative Writing and it is by far one of the more interesting classes I've taken yet in university. I have a lot to say about this class but I'll leave that for another post. Every week we're given prompts that encourage us to write in different forms or expressions. This week we are supposed to write about something to do with the following video: The Little Match Girl. If you haven't seen it before it's only 7 minutes long and it's a Disney short and you need to watch it right now.

If the video doesn't work, try this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUSzQBaWq0Q

Occupied

I was supposed to read a 500 page novel tonight. I got about 150 pages in before I fell asleep. As an English major, the tendency --nay, the inevitability-- of me falling asleep while reading makes for a long and a difficult homework process. I've got a long night ahead of me; good thing I love what I do.

To make up for it, here is something awesome:

And here is something funny:

Goodnight!

Interviews

My posting has been scant. Here is something to make up for that:

So I’ve been on the job market for quite some time now trying to save up for some upcoming adventures. I had been thoroughly unsuccessful which was really discouraging for quite some time, until all of a sudden I got a call from Chapters and Future Shop on the same day. So, I set up interviews with both.

I have never really gotten along well with interviews. One of the more traumatic experiences in my life was when I interviewed for Sport Chek and they decided to make it a duel interview. Literally they brought two of us into a tiny room and asked us questions, instructing us that we had to explain why we would be the better hire. For every question you had to quickly think of an answer that was not only original, but had to somehow make the other person look bad. For a seventeen year old, this is scarring. I also was at a complete loss when the other interviewer said that her greatest weakness was perfectionism. Frick! There goes my classic one-liner. In the end we both got hired, and we never became friends while working together because we had both shut the other person down so much in the interview. Way to support “team unity”, jerks.

That anecdote is important because it set the tone for the feeling I experienced when I walked into the interview at Chapters only to see 9 other chairs set up beside mine. My heart stopped and I almost walked out right there. They called it a “Hiring Fair” and proceeded to ask us all questions where we had to show originality and quick thinking. If you were the tenth person answering the question, “Why do you want to work here?” saying “because I love books” for the seventh time is a pretty insufficient answer. Thankfully I was the only English major so at least I had something. All in all it wasn’t as traumatic of an experience as Sport Chek and I walked out feeling decent.

Two days later I had my Future Shop interview. Well, I should back up. In order to get to this interview, first I had to hand in my application. After I did that, I got a call saying that my application had been approved, and I would be participating in a phone interview with the manager. After a fairly awkward 30-minute phone interview with the manager, he informed me I had been approved for a meeting with the general manager. So I went to Future Shop and waited for the general manager.

The interview started off terribly with him accusing me of being an hour late, despite the fact that I insisted he had told me to come in at 5, not 4 (which was true, I promise. I wrote it down in three different places.) But he still didn’t believe me, and continued to reference it throughout the interview, so that wasn’t the best.

He then proceeded to ask me every single question that an interviewer could possibly ever think of. He was incredibly intense and incredibly blunt and would call me out if an answer sounded too cliché or vague.

I was doing all right until he asked me about a conflict that I had experienced in my life that I handled well. I immediately went to my go-to story about a kid who bullied me for many years in school. Finally I just approached the kid and genuinely told him how much I hated it and how I wanted him to stop. (Aside: I’ll be honest, this story is not entirely factual. In actuality, the result was he kind of laughed at me and ran off, but for the sake of the interview, the conversation worked wonders and we never had any issues and we became the best of friends forever and ever… or something like that.) To wrap it up I said, “Yeah, and it’s a good thing the talking thing worked out because otherwise I was going to have to beat him up, and if that didn’t work I was going to have to get my dad to beat up his dad.” We both laughed and he kept asking questions.

This would have been fine if my mind hadn’t gone into immediate panic mode. What if he didn’t realize that was a joke? What if he actually thinks I solve things by beating people up!? What if he actually thinks I get my dad to beat up other dads!?! In my desperate need for clarification, after a couple questions had already passed, I awkwardly spat out, “You know I was just kidding about the whole dad beating up other dads thing, right?”

He just stared.

I blushed. I’ve made a huge mistake.

“Yeah...” he said, “I figured that out.”

Ugh.

It’s hard to recover from that.

So the interview went on. At one point he threw down the questionnaire sheet and announced, “I’m not sold. You’re not selling me. I need you to sell me. You have ten minutes to tell me everything about why you deserve this job and why you think you’re a good person. Go.” So, that was a terrible time.

Then he asked me what it was about Future Shop that attracted me. I told him I was a bit of a gamer and I liked electronics. Big mistake. He asked me what kinds of games I play.

“Well, to be entirely honest, I… I really like the Sims…” Ugh. I've made a huge mistake.

“Oh. Uh, ok. Hmm. K, well Call of Duty just came out, why weren’t you at the midnight release?”

“I’m not really into games like that.”

“All right, then what’s in your playstation right now.”

"..................... Harvest Moon.”

“What’s that?”

“Well… you… you farm.” I hung my head. Seriously Michael!? You can make up an entire story about conflict resolution in high school and you can't think of a cooler game than Harvest Moon?! Never have I regretted calling myself a gamer in all my life.

At one point he also asked me if I could be any animal right now what would it be. My first thought: Haha, what is this camp? So I told him that a past employer had already asked me that and I had said I would be a tiger (Aside: This is also not entirely true. In truth I had said, quote, “a fox, because I’m so foxy,” but I felt like after the gamer incident I really didn’t need to kick myself while I was down. Apparently I lie a lot in interviews, who knew?) His response to my answer of a tiger was, “Tigers are lame. Everyone picks that. What else?” Considering how intense he was, I took the question into careful consideration. He had been so demanding and rude the whole interview so I didn’t want to mess it up. “I guess a horse, because they are known as being both free and really hard workers.” He laughed at me and told me he would be an effing T-rex because they’re awesome and people always take that question way too seriously. Frick.

The questions got even more intense and grueling and the interview went on for an hour and freakin’ forty-five minutes. At one point he declared that everything in the store was not necessary—“we don’t sell a single thing that anyone needs”—and demanded I attempt to sell him something that he didn’t need. It felt gross. At the end of the interview he actually began to sound very optimistic and told me that he actually really really liked me. Go figure! He said he liked me so much that he was going to approve me for an interview with the regional manager.

WHAT.

After a phone call, a 30 minute phone interview, and an hour and forty-five minute grueling interview, I had been approved for another interview!?! SERIOUSLY!?! The man who had spent the last almost two hours psychoanalyzing and intensely critiquing every decision I had ever made in my entire life was awarding me with another interview!?!?! YOU ARE FUTURE SHOP. YOU ARE A STORE IN A SMALL CITY THAT PAYS MINIMUM WAGE!! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?!

I hid my thoughts with a smile and left the interview rather frazzled. Over the next couple of days, I got calls back from Chapters and Futureshop. Needless to say, I can now proudly announce:

  

And I can’t wait to start. Because at Chapters, I can sell people knowledge, and I can be a freakin’ horse if I want to, and the people there WON’T MOCK ME FOR PLAYING HARVEST MOON.

Well they probably still would, but at least they’re never going find out.

Great Song. Great Cover.

Living It Up in Lethcity

I’m back in Lethcity now and frankly, I’m loving it. I forgot how much I love this little attempt of a city. It’s endearing, in the “aww, look how hard it’s trying to be a real city” kinda way. But also, mocking aside, I genuinely do love it. Reasons being:

1. I spent the entire day today biking around downtown. Granted, you have to endure the Whoop-Up Challenge to even experience this little delight, but once you’re over on the East side, it’s pretty cool to just go exploring. There are so many good thrift stores/used books stores/little restaurants and even my very limited meanderings have awarded me with some sweet finds. Downside = they all close way too early, but hey, it's not the end of the world.

2. The coulees. I have said it before and I will say it again, the coulees are one of the more gorgeous sights I have ever encountered. If you time it just right, watching the sun set over the river gorge with the silhouette of the bridge in the background is definitely a sight to see. Today I actually biked up on to the bridge itself—which was slightly terrifying—but worth it for the view that it granted. Not as worth it when I tried to leave and ended up hopping a fence INTO A POLICE STATION, but hey, serves me right for not reading the signs.

3. The Owl. Yes, I will give it its own section, because I enjoy it that much. It’s just a small restaurant but the live music always brings me unnatural amounts of joy. Tonight there was a blues band on stage and the lead guitarist was pretty phenomenal. One of my goals this year is to definitely make it out to this place many, many more times.

4. The traffic. After spending a week driving in Calgary, I’m actually proud to live in a city where going all the way across town takes 20 minutes, not 3 hours. That being said, it still often sucks being a pedestrian, but we’re working on that. I figure if I slap enough hoods, drivers will learn to look for bikers before attempting to turn.

5. The Galt Gardens. I was not impressed when my university prof assigned an entire novel to be read by Monday (ah yes, right back in the swing of things), but decided to make the most of it. I took advantage of the 30 degree weather today and went and sat in the middle of the park for four hours. With the water fountain/park in the distance and a perfect stretch of sun-strewn grass beneath my bare feet, reading one of my favourite novels of all time turned from an awesome experience to a perfectly sublime one.

6. The University. I’m super pumped about my classes this semester, but I’ll get more into that tomorrow. Just let it be known that I am a very proud attendant of the U of L.

7. My home. I’m excited to have moved back into the same house I lived in last year because it really is a great place. I have all the same roommates, PLUS the newest roommate is BRITISH! Needless to say there are going to be countless opportunities for me to make a fool of myself as I subconsciously emulate his accent while talking to him. Can’t wait. All the guys I live with are solid, solid, solid. I also opted to move downstairs this year (a sarcastically sad wave goodbye to the neon watermelon room) and am currently reveling in a nice, cool, carpeted living space. I just have to get used to living next door to the furnace :/

8. E-free. I have loved being able to be a part of the worship team at my church and actually getting to put my years of trumpet practice to some good. This year I opted to join the choir as well and we have our first performance tomorrow morning bright and early. The vast majority of the men in the choir (and by vast majority I mean all of them but myself and a fifteen year old) are over the age of 40(ish). It's pretty cool to get to stand next to a 60 year old guy and do something together that you both love. It's been a long time since I've sung in a choir but I'm really excited to do it this year.

As I am writing this, I feel like I’m composing one big, cheesy advertisement for Lethbridge, but ultimately, I just really enjoy where I’m at right now. I always want to explore more of where I’m living, and each time I do, I find that Lethbridge delivers. Call me sentimental, but I’m just really excited to see what this year has in store.

Moving! New School Year! Excitement!

I move tomorrow! Well technically today, but that's beside the point. I'm genuinely excited to get back to university and to return to a routine. I have big plans for this year and I have--for the first semester at least-- a class schedule that will accompany these plans perfectly. Sadly, if I stick with the schedule that I have, it will mean the demise of my music minor. Sad, but hey, such is life. This next week is add/drop week so it may be very chaotic. Time will tell.

As I go pack (because, let's be serious, what else is there to do at 2 in the morning. Oh! Did I mention that I plan on getting to bed at a not-ungodly hour this year? True story.), here's a song to get you pumped about the new school year as well. Unless you're not in school, in which case, yay September.

A Genuine Loss

Regardless of your political leanings, Jack Layton's death is a sincere loss. Whether you agreed with him or not, he dedicated his life to something he cared about--making Canada a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. His death will not only mean a massive shift for the NDP as the current opposition, but a change in the future of the party as well. It's easy to get tied down in the intense opinions that encircle politics, but ultimately it's important to remember that he was a father of two who refused to be apathetic about his country. My heart goes out to his family, friends, and all his other supporters.

Here is the letter he wrote two days before his death:

Dear Friends,

Tens of thousands of Canadians have written to me in recent weeks to wish me well. I want to thank each and every one of you for your thoughtful, inspiring and often beautiful notes, cards and gifts. Your spirit and love have lit up my home, my spirit, and my determination.

Unfortunately my treatment has not worked out as I hoped. So I am giving this letter to my partner Olivia to share with you in the circumstance in which I cannot continue.

I recommend that Hull-Aylmer MP Nycole Turmel continue her work as our interim leader until a permanent successor is elected.

I recommend the party hold a leadership vote as early as possible in the New Year, on approximately the same timelines as in 2003, so that our new leader has ample time to reconsolidate our team, renew our party and our program, and move forward towards the next election.

A few additional thoughts:

To other Canadians who are on journeys to defeat cancer and to live their lives, I say this: please don’t be discouraged that my own journey hasn’t gone as well as I had hoped. You must not lose your own hope. Treatments and therapies have never been better in the face of this disease. You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey, as I have done this summer.

To the members of my party: we’ve done remarkable things together in the past eight years. It has been a privilege to lead the New Democratic Party and I am most grateful for your confidence, your support, and the endless hours of volunteer commitment you have devoted to our cause. There will be those who will try to persuade you to give up our cause. But that cause is much bigger than any one leader. Answer them by recommitting with energy and determination to our work. Remember our proud history of social justice, universal health care, public pensions and making sure no one is left behind. Let’s continue to move forward. Let’s demonstrate in everything we do in the four years before us that we are ready to serve our beloved Canada as its next government.

To the members of our parliamentary caucus: I have been privileged to work with each and every one of you. Our caucus meetings were always the highlight of my week. It has been my role to ask a great deal from you. And now I am going to do so again. Canadians will be closely watching you in the months to come. Colleagues, I know you will make the tens of thousands of members of our party proud of you by demonstrating the same seamless teamwork and solidarity that has earned us the confidence of millions of Canadians in the recent election.

To my fellow Quebecers: On May 2nd, you made an historic decision. You decided that the way to replace Canada’s Conservative federal government with something better was by working together in partnership with progressive-minded Canadians across the country. You made the right decision then; it is still the right decision today; and it will be the right decision right through to the next election, when we will succeed, together. You have elected a superb team of New Democrats to Parliament. They are going to be doing remarkable things in the years to come to make this country better for us all.

To young Canadians: All my life I have worked to make things better. Hope and optimism have defined my political career, and I continue to be hopeful and optimistic about Canada. Young people have been a great source of inspiration for me. I have met and talked with so many of you about your dreams, your frustrations, and your ideas for change. More and more, you are engaging in politics because you want to change things for the better. Many of you have placed your trust in our party. As my time in political life draws to a close I want to share with you my belief in your power to change this country and this world. There are great challenges before you, from the overwhelming nature of climate change to the unfairness of an economy that excludes so many from our collective wealth, and the changes necessary to build a more inclusive and generous Canada. I believe in you. Your energy, your vision, your passion for justice are exactly what this country needs today. You need to be at the heart of our economy, our political life, and our plans for the present and the future.

And finally, to all Canadians: Canada is a great country, one of the hopes of the world. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. We can restore our good name in the world. We can do all of these things because we finally have a party system at the national level where there are real choices; where your vote matters; where working for change can actually bring about change. In the months and years to come, New Democrats will put a compelling new alternative to you. My colleagues in our party are an impressive, committed team. Give them a careful hearing; consider the alternatives; and consider that we can be a better, fairer, more equal country by working together. Don’t let them tell you it can’t be done.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

All my very best,

Jack Layton

Dancing

The world needs to see this dance.

Volunteering at Slave Lake

For those of you who didn’t hear about it, the town of Slave Lake was hit on May 15 with a wildfire that destroyed 40% of the town. Six weeks after the fire and just two weeks after the residents returned, massive amounts of rain caused the town to flood. It’s a pretty heartbreaking story and one that I’m sure will never be forgotten by the 7000 residents of the town.

On Sunday night my dad informed me that there was a bus heading to Slave Lake from Grande Prairie to help out for the day. So, at 10pm that night, it was confirmed that we could have a seat on the bus leaving at 5am the next morning.

Thanks to my uncoordinated sleeping schedule I did not sleep the entire night and joined my dad for a very early breakfast. As we drove to meet the bus, we realized that we had no idea what we were going to be doing—all we knew was that we were going to be spending the day in Slave Lake helping out. Despite the lack of any formal details we carried on and met up with this (note the top of the bus): 

The term "Mystery Trip is much more foreboding glowing against the dark 5am sky

This did not instill much confidence. We got on anyway and after a long (and still sleepless) three and a half hours, we were in Slave Lake. They brought us into a MASSIVE mill that had been abandoned due to the whole town effectively shutting down. Inside was a giant pile of garbage bags and boxes filled with donations from people all across the country. Our job was to empty the bags and sort the clothing into their different sizes and genders and pick out stuff that wasn't in good condition or in current fashion. At this, a 65-year-old volunteer asked, "What about the young people?" and I was very glad that the hipsters were taken into consideration. We decided to keep the clothes unless they were in bad shape or extremely, extremely horrendous.

The shear size of the pile made it a rather daunting task, but once we got to work we were able to develop a rhythm and it was actually quite enjoyable. There were 32 of us on the bus and we were joined by eight members of a correctional facility. We each had our own table where we could dump our bags out, sort through them, and then place the good stuff into the storage bags. 

Just a part of the pile

Our view as we worked

The large storage bags we used for organizing

Our tables and some sorters at work

With donations coming in so quickly and from all over the country, we found some pretty interesting things. Here are a couple of my favourites:

• A perfect-condition Halloween costume of the yellow Teletubby—because that’s the first thing people look for after a disaster. I was also amazed that I was able to identify it as Laa-Laa (who knew colourful, pudgy aliens were so memorable?)
• Six identical dark green t-shirts that had home-made cut up collars and sequined shoulder pads.
• A tie skirt. Yes, a skirt made entirely out of ties sewed together.
• An entire garbage bag of traditional Ukrainian garb.
• A barely used $400 padded motorbike jacket and an adult wetsuit. Congrats to the amazing person who gave up those.
• Brand new, pointy, white, men's Italian shoes. This is not entertaining until you consider that someone donated these to a small town in Northern Alberta.
• A bag full of wigs. Again, not really typical disaster-relief stock material.
• More than one Santa outfit for a dog. If I had my choice I would have immediately placed these in recycling, but sadly, I wasn't the one who found them.

I also learnt a lot about donating, myself. Seeing as there were so many donations to sort through (more on that later), bags that were donated without much thought or care were considered less than helpful. I learnt a lot of quick tips about donating that I didn’t know before:

• This is NOT a time to get rid of your garbage. I literally went through bags with used diapers in them. While the thought is nice, nobody really appreciates it. If you are done with your oil-stained, used-to-be-white-once t-shirt that you won from a beer company and now use as a car rag—throw it out!
• Wash your clothes before you send them. I was shocked at how many items had dirt or pet hair on them that could have easily been removed with a simple wash. A lot of clothes were also found folded inside out. Take the two seconds and arrange them effectively.
• Tie or tape pairs of shoes together—a simple thing that will help with the organizing and stop a sorter from throwing them in the recycling because they can’t find the matching shoe.
• If you want to be loved and admired by the sorters, go so far as to organize and label your donations. Nobody admitted to it, but secretly we all looked for garbage bags that had a masking tape label already on it. We organized it into Boys (0-2, 2-6, Junior/Teen) Girls (same), Mens (S, M, L, XL), and Womens (same).
• Donate more than clothes. I didn’t really think about this one because clothes are always the first things that come to mind, but there is a lot more that people need. Bedding, linens, bathroom items, kitchen items, accessories, pretty much anything you use on a daily basis, are all important. 

My back was killing me by the seventh hour, but it was worth it. At one point I had a near heart-attack when I realized that my cellphone, which I had placed on the table, was no longer there! I looked out over the thousands of bags we'd spent all morning packing and wondered what the chances were of hearing a tiny vibrating phone in one of them. Thankfully, I found the phone 20 minutes later a good ten feet away from my table. Yikes!

After eight full hours and really good lunch, we were all completely wiped out. Thanks to a lot of coffee and sugar I survived despite my all-nighter, but I was ready to crash the second we got on the bus to go home.

On the way home the bus driver took us through the actual town and narrated where the fire had spread. It was certainly a humbling experience looking down a street where an entire suburb had once stood and seeing nothing but the foundations of the homes. The most amazing part was how much the fire skipped around. There were remnants of a house sitting right beside buildings that were completely unharmed. In one case the garage was completely untouched but the house was gone. It certainly stands as a reminder about how temporary and transient our belongings are.

What's left of a residential street

A house left with melted siding as the house in front of it is completely destroyed

Stairs leading up to what used to be an apartment building

The town hall/the town library

Remains of a house

Remains of a city transit bus

Another look down a typical residential street

These pictures show pretty heart-wrenching scenes, but we can take comfort in the fact that nobody was killed in the fire. The residents had enough warning that the entire town was able to evacuate before the fire rushed in. It will take years to recuperate, but the residents have every intention of rebuilding the entire town.

The encouragement came at the end of the trip where we got to see the final product of our work:

This is a curling rink that the town turned into a shelter for the donations. Anyone who was affected by the fire is able to go in and take whatever they need. It was definitely cool to be able to see the direct effect of our work.

At the end of the day my dad and I guessed that between the forty of us sorters we had probably worked through about two full semi-loads worth of donations. We were proud of our work as we had organized about a quarter of the pile that was sitting in the mill. To our astonishment, as we drove away the bus driver pointed out ten more semis that were lined up outside the building, waiting to be unloaded! As if that wasn't enough, he said that there were FIFTY more waiting in other towns around Alberta. Combining what had yet to be unloaded, what we had worked on, and what had already been organized, we figured there were over 100 semis worth of donations to Slave Lake!! How amazing is that! There were so many donations in fact that the government is trying to relocate the fifty semis to other places that need it more (considering that, in the short time we worked, we organized more than enough to clothe the entire town of Slave Lake a couple times over). It definitely stands as an encouragement and an amazing testament to the power of people uniting under tragedy.

Blogging It Up

Another day of unplugging and it is going great! Yet again I am amazed at how much you can get done when you're not taking those five minute quick flips through Facebook. I am currently reading "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" and it took me two weeks to get through half of it, and then yesterday I read the second half in two sittings. I'm sure I'll write a blog about my thoughts on it later, but the point is I'm actually taking on the monstrous stack of books that I have piled in the corner of my room!

The other great thing about not having Internet every other day is that on the days when I DO have it, I am much more productive. I know that my time is limited and therefore I (like to think) am a better steward of my time. In my perusing today I found two more blogs that I will be adding to my daily scan and I thought they were interesting enough to post about.

The first is Austin Kleon's at www.austinkleon.com/blog. You may have heard of him before, but he is the guy who does the Newspaper Blackout poems. It's a pretty simple concept--take a newspaper, black out words, form a poem--but it's the simplicity and creativity that I love. It combines the task of creating art out of someone else's work and the act of solving a puzzle or code. It takes a small thing, something that we all have access to throughout the day (a newspaper) and makes it into a canvas. Perhaps I like it because it reminds me of my days as a young churchgoer. The only way I could concentrate through a whole sermon was if I spent the entire time circling each individual "e" or "a" in the church bulletin. Sometimes I would get creative and use different shapes to highlight the individual letters, and, if the sermon was long enough, write codes using the different shapes. I swear some of my most creative moments happened in the margins of church bulletins.

Either way, you should check out the site, because it's cool, and he posts things like this:

and this:

(Most of them are more poetic or longer than these, they were just some that I liked. Credit goes to Celeste for showing me this site.)

The second blog that I found today is Blake Mycoskie, the founder of TOMS at www.startsomethingthatmatters.com. Legit guy. Anyone who starts a business based on giving and manages to grow it into an incredibly trendy product is awesome in my books. I remember when they started selling TOMS in Tehillah back in 2007 and they were only $40. Man do I regret not buying them then. Also, I would just like to make a formal complaint that there is not a single shop in Calgary that sells size 14 TOMS (I know, I know, buy them online, I just don't think it's fair that's all).

Moving on. I am particularly interested in TOMS lately because they're growing their business to be about more than just shoes; it's evolving into an entire One for One company which now includes eyewear. For every pair of sunglasses you buy, they supply someone in a impoverished country with the right glasses or surgery they need to see. Everything you'd want to know about that can be found here. It's good stuff. I'm hoping he posts on his blog a lot because he's a guy I could definitely see as becoming one of my entrepreneurial heros. Plus, he ends every post with "Carpe Diem". Who doesn't love a good Dead Poet's Society reference? Amiright?

Here's a clip from his blog:

Unplugging

I missed a day. But in a really really good way.

I was challenging myself to write a blog post every day and I still very much intend to keep that challenge, but another challenge came into my life.

My father, step-mother, and I were sitting around talking yesterday. The topic got on technology and how much we depend on it. They had been considering cutting their cable for the summer and I told them that, as much as I hated it as a kid, having only three channels (and that fourth channel that if you squinted hard enough and stood in just the right spot in the living room) was one of the best things my parents could have done for me.

I know that this is an issue we all face. As I was telling them about the "evils of technology", I couldn't help but note that twinge of hypocrisy rising up in me. I am certainly not the best example of a technology-free life. I am on my laptop a lot and often need a movie or show running to fall asleep to (I hate it, but it's true). But, the more we talked about the implications, the more ideas began to take shape. As we all know, it's not that technology in itself is bad, it's just amazing how much it dominates everything that we do. I pulled from one of my favourite books, Donald Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" which talks about living a better story. It says that it is impossible to live a good story if you are too busy watching someone else's. It's a simple statement, but a powerful one, and one that I'm sure you could unpack in many different ways.

All of this culminated in an agreement to start small and see where that goes. We decided to cut out screens every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That means no Xbox, no TV, no Internet. Obviously some of these things are more tempting to certain people, but it's all about the solidarity. This literally means unplugging the chord which controls all of these things (quite convenient really) for the day.

Monday was our first test. I definitely entirely forgot and checked Facebook first thing in the morning. Oops. But once upstairs I was quickly reminded and the knowledge that my father was going to suffer more than I was was a big encouragement. It was a busy day to begin with, but it is AMAzing how much more you can fit in a day when you're not flipping open the computer every once in a while just to do a quick check. I wouldn't say I'm a drastic over-user of the Internet, but I couldn't help but notice what a huge difference it made yesterday. The biggest change came at the end of the day when we were all sitting around after supper. With no Xbox to run off to for my stepbrother and no TV to flick on for the post-supper digestion, we sat in baffled silence, asking ourselves... Now what? It was entertaining in that sad and pathetic kind of way, watching ourselves react to this seemingly unique experience. In the end we settled for a board game--which turned out to be quite entertaining--and an early night; who knew having to be creative all day took up so much energy?

This is a challenge that everyone makes at different times in their lives, and I think it's a really important one. Like I said, there are certainly good things that come with the Internet so I don't think it's something to throw out the window all together, but there is definite power in limiting it in your life. I'm incredibly interested to see what the next couple weeks or months is going to look like with all this free time on our hands. This means that my blogging schedule will return to being somewhat inconsistent, but since I consider working on my writing part of my "job", I will try to remain as consistent as possible.

Wish me luck :P

The Wilderness Downtown

Arcade Fire is a pretty hip band. I specifically use the word hip because they are a band that people love to hate. Don't believe me? Check out the tumblr: http://whoisarcadefire.tumblr.com. (On second thought, that site is pretty jam-packed with foul mouthed individuals, so this video gives the gist of it:)

People weren't too fond of a seemingly "unknown" Canadian band swooping in and snagging the American Grammy for Album of the Year. I absolutely supported this, being both a Canadian and a closeted revolutionary. I enjoy upsets. Of course the band went on to dominate at the Junos, but who really cares about that. (Ugh, I'm treading on some very thin hipster lines here, but I just don't want to jump into that post right now.)

Now, I must start off by saying I am quite a bit of a band wagon jumper on this one. I have had Neon Bible, their second album, on my Ipod for forever but never really cared to listen to it mostly because I thought it had to do with something sacrilegious. I have no idea where I originally got the album from... probably the OC soundtrack or something like that. That also being said, I'm still not a massive fan. Not because I don't enjoy them, I just haven't given them enough time to really settle a place in my heart. So, I'm not really promo-ing the band, just this one song.

But man, what a song. Ok, it's really not about the song at all, it's the whole experience that I love. I love it because this particular video got brought up in my postmodern class and my teacher praised it for its creativity and uniqueness. I'm so glad that it won a Webby (Internet awards for those of you who aren't geeky enough) and received at least some recognition. I give this music video double props because it went so far above other music videos. Not that that's saying much:

Typical Music Video:

• Start off with lead singer standing in some obscure place such as in the middle of a field or ocean (the more obscure the band name, the more obscure the standing place)
• Rapidly switch to group shot of the whole band during chorus
• Alternate between group shot of band playing in front of a crowd and band playing in obscure place. (Special added points if the instruments are somehow getting destroyed in the process)
• Flash back and forth between three or four different sets with the rhythm of the beat
• (Genre note: If this is a rap or hip hop video, don't forget to include scantily clad ladies during the first chorus. If this is a rock song, those instruments better be darn well near destroyed by the final chord. If this is a folk acoustic song, ensure that there are plenty of shots of big beards and sepia birds. Continue.)
• Cue bridge, which usually consists of a single moody shot of the lead singer, potentially with a zoom up on his face to ensure the solemnity of the moment.
• Flash into chorus, let those guitar chords ring out, and put particular emphasis on how happy everyone in the crowd looks as they celebrate this rad and hip band.
• End with camera panning away from band as they recklessly leave their instruments in a haphazard state.
• Scene

Original and Creative Music Video

• Anything other than that.

Now, back to the subject on hand. Granted, the actual scenes of this video aren't THAT far off from anything we've seen before, but it's all about the technique. It's about incorporating the viewer into the video, bringing it to life and recreating a different story built from past memories. Nostalgia fuels the song and encourages each viewer to take in the song with a different sensation. I relate with this because when I was younger, before anybody was allowed to read something that I had written, I had to ensure that the mood was set by playing the appropriate song beforehand. (Many of my emails began with "STOP. Read no further. Open up Itunes and Play [enter an inspirational or powerful song such as "You Raise Me Up" to set mood. Nothing adds power to angsty teenage poems like "You Raise Me Up"]." Perhaps this is why I feel the need to end every blog post with a music video; music just makes everything 1000x more awesome.

But I digress. Really you should just watch the video and enjoy it. (It does take a lot to run so I would definitely suggest shutting down most other tabs/programs to properly enjoy it). Tell me what you think.

Arcade Fire's "We Used to Wait":
http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/

The Flying Troutmans: CBMM Review #1

I have stated in previous posts that I am not very fond of writing reviews. For some reason I am pompous enough to create an entire site dedicated to me and my thoughts, but I get uncomfortable when asked to offer up my opinion on media and literature. Go figure.


Regardless, I have a responsibility. But first, I must tell you a story. About a year ago I posed a question on Facebook as to what classes I should take in the upcoming Spring semester. I'm not going to write out the whole drama because I'm pretty sure that almost everyone who reads this blog was either present in it or a silent observer (yes, I'm looking at you). Anyway, you can read it all here or enjoy this tasteful synopsis:

Me: What classes should I take? I am indecisive and need impartial people to justify my actions.

BW: Canadian literature is evil.

MW: For shizzle, home slice.

KP: No it most certainly is not. 

MW: Ya-huh!

KP: Nu-uh! Here’s a rational explanation as to why it’s not.

MW: *in head* Careful Michael, we’ve seen this before. Here’s a diplomatic response that will lighten the mood, though, I must confess, I am still not a fan of Canadian literature.

KP:

After the dust had settled, the question of quality Canadian literature still hung in the balance. (All right, that’s not entirely how it went down, but if you really cared you would have checked out the longer link already).

To clarify things, I am not saying that there is no such thing as good Canadian literature. I know well enough that an invisible borderline between the US and Canada is not enough to distinguish between good and bad literature. Nor am I not a proud Canadian. Cause I am. Honest. I even go so far as to spell “favorite” “favourite” and “color” “colour”, that’s how legit I am.

But twelve years of having Canadian history repeatedly thrown at you in Social class does become a bit tedious. In my first year of university I took a Survey of Canadian Literature class in order to break my jaded high school preconceptions and stereotypes of Canadian literature. Sadly, not only were they not broken, they were reinforced with a 5-inch thick, steel, bulletproof wall (hyperbole, ten points). Despite my desire to love Canadian literature, I still found myself hating anybody whoever called themselves a pioneer as I wrote a ten-page essay on the symbolism of barns and canoes in Confederation poetry. No joke, here is an excerpt from my essay: 

“The title of the Italian sonnet, In an Old Barn, implies that the narrator has a deep appreciation for the romantic antiquity of a cattle shelter.” 

It goes on like that for 1,500 more words. (Ok, I’ll be honest, my own prose isn’t exactly outstanding). Despite a semester of a studying, the best Canadian image I could conjure up was of a lumberjack man and his Little-House-on-the-Prairie wife standing by their log cabins and homemade canoes, enduring the brutal winters and taking advantage of Native Americans. Also, there are geese flying overhead. 

The final conclusion we came to at the end of my Canadian literature class was that there really is no such thing as the “Canadian identity” as it is the amalgamation of cultures and concepts which defines it. I came to peace with this definition as our mosaic society is one of the things that makes me proud to be Canadian. Canada isn’t really definable (terrible stereotypes aside) and I like that.

Yet, here we are. Personally, I don’t know any Canadian authors that I would proudly boast about to my non-Canadian friends. To be honest, I barely know any Canadian authors at all, let alone ones that are worth bragging about. I get that Canada isn’t all about geese and rivers and rocks and trees, though I really don’t have any concrete proof to dispute this claim. Sad. So, enter CBMM. I'm looking forward to this challenge because I honestly do want to think of nothing but the highest of my dear home and native land.

So now, skip back to real time. I have since received six of the twelve CBMM’s from Kerry but unfortunately have only had the time to read the first one. And my first official thoughts are: I really liked it!

The first book Kerry sent was "The Flying Troutmans" by Miriam Toews. Prior to reading it, my expectations weren’t too high. I honestly thought that it was going to be a nice story about happy Christians doing happy things. Turns out it was nothing like that. Miriam Toews is really famous for her Mennonite book “A Complicated Kindness” which I’ve since heard a lot about and look forward to reading. So I guess I shouldn’t really have expected a nice Christian book about nice things, but this is all about breaking my ignorance anyway, so this is good.

Once in, it took me a while to get used to the modern hipster names. The story is about Hattie, her depressed sister Min, her neice and nephew Thebes and Logan, and their dad Cherkis. Not a single Tom or Frank Penner to be found. The reason I did end up enjoying this book was because it was very quick; it’s kind of like reading an episode of the Gilmore Girls. The dialogue is fast, the message is deep but not deep enough to get lost in, and the characters are quirky but loveable.

That being said, I did have one major complaint: it has NOTHING to do with Canada. The unconventional family begins their roadtrip in the good ol’ Frozen North, but the vast majority of the book is spent driving through the States. It is ironic that a book that is supposed to prove the value of Canadian literature turns its back on Canada within the first couple of chapters.

So, I will end with this. It was definitely an enjoyable book (enough so that I bought "A Complicated Kindness" at Value Village yesterday). Yes, Miriam Toews is a good, Canadian author (and a Mennonite to boot), but "Flying Troutmans" is not really a Canadian book.

Here's a totally unrelated song for those of you who weren't particularly interested in any of this:

PS: If you're a keener and reading this right away I sincerely apologize for the wonky fonts; I'll fix it in the morning.