Goodbye Quita

Quita lounging in her coconut

We unexpectedly lost the last budgie of our flock yesterday.

I took Poquita (who we call Quita for short) to the vet yesterday for a routine wellness exam.  She was somewhat streesed, which is not unusual, but during the exam, which usually isn't that big a deal, she passed out and couldn't be revived.

Needless to say, we're rather shell-shocked over the whole thing.  It could be argued that if we didn't take her to the vet, she'd still be with us.  But it would seem that there must have been some issue for her to succumb to something as  innocuous as being handled and prodded a bit.

But it is what it is.  As much as we might want to, there's really no point in over-analysing the situation.  The vet staff felt awful about it too.

Quita just after coming home for the first time in 2007

Quita was the runt of the litter.  That why we wound up naming her "Poquita."  ("poquito" is Spanish for "little")

When we first brought her home, she still couldn't perch.  But that didn't last very long since she wasn't overly fond of being pooped upon by the others.  She wound up holding her own quite well with her cage-mates.

Quita and Coquette sharing a moment together

Quita and Coquette spent a lot of time together feeding and preening each other.  There was no question (as with any good male/female relationship) that Quita called the shots, but she made sure that Coquette knew that he was appreciated.  Sometimes, she even let him have a bit of fun with Copperfield just so she get some peace and quiet in the coconut.

When Coquette passed in June, she was never the same.  She lamented her mate for the longest time but eventually she would get back to singing, chirping and playing with her "bling" in the cage.

The coconut was her favourite place to snuggle and have a little nap.  I suppose it let her give in to her nesting instincts, but there were a number of times you could catch her with her head tucked under her wing having a nice afternoon nap.

The other thing she really liked was her cuttlebone.  In fact, she loved that cuttlebone -- enough to make Coquette jealous.  We'll just leave it at that.

She had a sense of adventure that sometimes got her into a bit of trouble.  One day, she decided to fly into the kitchen and land on a sticky fly strip.  As you can imagine, that was traumatic but she survived the loss of a few feathers and a bit of dignity like a trooper.  

Then there was the time she flew into the kitchen while daddy was cooking and lit on the nearby window sill to watch.  I noticed her, said hello to her and then was startled to realize who was out of her cage watching me.  She hopped on my finger and was happy to let me take her back home.

I could have done without the time she decided to fly into my office and play hide and seek under a pile of rubble in the closet.  Fortunately, she did give me a few "peeps" to help me find her.   

And there was no head of broccoli too big for her. 

She wasn't afraid of much.

She was a sweet little bird and now she's flying with the rest of her flock.

Our house was unusually quiet this morning.  We already miss the cheerful chirping and peeping.  We honestly don't know when birds will become part of our lives again, but I honestly can't imagine not ever again enjoying the company of feathered creatures.

But for now, it's a time to think back to happier times in the aviary and thank those little critters for enriching our lives.

Farewell, sweetheart.

Death of a True Tech Pioneer

Dennis MacAlistair Ritchie
1941-2011

He wasn't a lefty politician who fed off the public teat, even after death.

He wasn't a greedy misanthropist who sold shiny gadgets made with sweatshop labour.

He created the most widely used programming language in the world which became the foundation of virtually every modern piece of technology.  The C programming language is incredibly powerful yet, so concise that the document (lovingly known as K&R) that completely describes it is a small soft-cover book only 274 pages long.

Yet, hardly a news outlet will mention his passing, geek and technology sites notwithstanding.  In fact, he died 5 days before the news of his death was made public

I've written millions of lines of C in my day.  Here's one more.

main()
{
     printf("Goodbye, dmr/n");
}

We've been adopted by a cat.

 Meet the latest member of our little clan:

Gordito

It's been said that cats adopt people, but in this case, it's true.

Here's the story:


The Beginning:


In late May, as far as we can figure, a feral Momma cat gave birth to a litter of kittens under our back porch.

We didn't twig onto this until late June.  Getting near them was pretty much impossible at first.  But eventually, Momma cat very cautiously let me get some pictures.

Lefty(left) and Momma

(left to right) Topper, Rum Tum Tugger and Gordito

Yes, we eventually named them, more on that later.

So now I started doing some research on feral cats in Toronto and wasn't quite sure just what exactly I was going to do about this.  But first things first, maybe they'd like to be fed.  Not wanting to go overboard on this, I started buying Whiskas pate wet cat food.  They liked it.

We fed them for several days but Momma cat didn't seem to appreciate all the attention.

One night, she moved them away.  Some place where those pesky humans can't get at the kids!  We noticed one Friday evening, the kids were all hanging around the back of our next-door neighbour's house and a day later, they had completely vanished.

We figured that was it.  Oh well.  Such is life.

A week or two later, we spotted one of the cats cavorting around the rubble in our back-yard neighbour's yard.  It seems they moved diagonally across from us basically out of sight The cats could get to our back yard fence, if they came, but we couldn't get to them.  So, I dug a little access path for them under the fence, just in case they wanted to come by for a bite to eat.

Lefty Having Dinner

It Worked like a charm

At this point, Momma cat was a bit more easy going about us feeding them because they now had an easy escape route.  Even Momma joined in and had some vittles -- as long as we left the area.

We didn't always see all the kittens.  Some were more adventurous than others.  Some would stay behind the fence and probably didn't come out unless we weren't anywhere near the food.

The Breakthrough:

On August 11, I came out with some food as I usually do.  There were no kittens near the fence.


I placed a container of food near the opening of the fence.  The first kitten to appear was a grey tabby with a brown face I rarely saw but this time he seemed bound and determined to get to the food.  You could tell he was fighting his instincts.   He tried twice to go under the fence but backed away at the last minute.  But the lure of the food was too much for him -- either that or he was just plain starving -- he was the smallest of the bunch.

He started to devour the container of food and he wasn't prepared to share with any of the others.

I slowly and very tentatively reached out to pet him.  He was oblivious and just kept on eating.

He ate the whole container of Whiskas and then looked at me for more.  For some reason, he wasn't afraid of me.  He even let me pick him up and hold him.  Full-out petting wasn't an issue.

Since I had several containers of food, I opened another one and he went at it but this time, he was willing to share with the others.

It's at that point that, seeing how he was inhaling this food, I thought "Here's one that just love his food -- it won't be long before he's chubby.  I should call him Gord -- short for Gordito -- Spanish for chubby."

I mentioned this to Melody and somehow, the name stuck.

I think I made an impression on him since whenever I came out back to feed the kitties, Gordito would be the first one out running to me.  Once I parked a lawn chair about 10 feet from the fence and sat down.  He not only ran to me, but hopped on my lap, cuddled for a while, then I would feed him and the others.

Needless to say, I was in love.  This would go on every day with Gordito spending more and more time with me or Melody -- sometimes as much as an hour before he would go back under the fence -- probably for a nap.  When Melody would come home in the evening, she'd go back to see the kitties and Gordito would cuddle up with her too.

Decisions, Decisions.

OK.  So now we have this cat who seems to like us.  And we obviously like him.

Do we invite him in the house?

What about Quita, our budgie?

Not to mention the state of the house isn't really in any condition for a cat to roam freely.  We almost get lost in the rubble.  A kitten would almost certainly get lost in the abyss and never bee seen again.

After a lot of discussion, we decided we'd do it.  But first, we had to de-clutter the house and clean things up.

But there was still the question as to whether or not Gordito really wanted to spend the rest of his life with us.

On Monday, August 29, I was out all afternoon and wasn't sure if any of the Kitties were awake from their afternoon naps to have something to eat.  Well, guess who came out first to greet me?

So I told Gordito I'd run into the house and grab some food.  When I got to the back door, here's what I saw:

Gordito followed me all the way (well over 50 feet) to our back door to wait for me.

A lovely cuddle and dining session for Gordito followed.

So, we decided that we'd try keeping him in the bedroom with us at night and, until we were ready, let him out during the day.  Overall, it worked out well.  We had a litterbox and food in the bedroom and we kept the door closed to he couldn't get into any trouble with Quita in the birdcage.

During a session the folowwing Thursday, I heard voices from one of the houses behind us.  There was some conversation relating to the cats but I wasn't able to follow it.  I just had a feeling that we needed to get on this sooner rather than later.


The Clincher

On Friday, Melody and I had a late dinner out as we usually do.  We got back after 9:00 and weren't sure if we'd be able to get Gordito to come in for the night.

What happened next blew us away.

He was waiting for us at the back door.

Wow!

If there was ever any doubt as to where he wanted to be, this definitely erased it.

We often get a pet, develop a bond and have a wonderful relationship with it but the thing is, how often do you have an animal tell you they want to be with you?  He had complete freedom to be anywhere he wanted but chose of his own free will to be with us.  I found it pretty awe inspiring and really gave us a feeling that we were doing the right thing.

With it being the Holiday weekend, we figured we'd blitz things and at least get things somewhat into shape.

Gordito stayed in the house that weekend.

The first thing we decided to do after a major de-cluttering was to build him a "Kitty Condo" based on plans in this website:

http://www.kittykouch.com/articles/catenclosure.html

Marva Marrow is a Cat Behaviourist and breeder in California and has this wonderful idea for building enclosures made out of wire shelving.  I would up building a lovely enclosure measuring 6 feet wide by 6 feet tall by three feed deep.

The Kitty Condo

It's uses nothing but wire shelving and is help together entirely by nylon zap straps.  It's amazingly sturdy and very inexpensive.  It even has doors that close so we can safely leave him in there when we leave the house or overnight.  Because of the birdcage, we need to be mindful to keep him away from Quita and not let his instincts get the best of him.

He absolutely loves it.  You can see him having dinner at right side of the enclosure.

In any case, I had the chance to write Marva thanking her for such a wonderful idea and she really seemed to be touched by it.  Check out her website at www.kittykouch.com.


Things Happen For A Reason.

Earlier, I had mentioned that I had a feeling the previous Thursday that something was up and we needed to move fast.

On the Labour day Monday, we left some food out in the backyard for the other cats but didn't see any of them.  We didn't think much of it since it was cool and rather early.  However, we did see them all weekend and they were doing fine.  I wasn't quite sure how we would handle the rest of the cats but for the time being we think we would continue to at least feed them.

On Monday afternoon, we found the food untouched.  Monday night, same thing.

The food was gone Tuesday morning but I figure it was the raccoons that got to it.  I left something out for them on Tuesday and it remained untouched throughout the day.  I saw no sign anywhere of any of the cats.

I'm hoping that they were taken in by our backyard neighbours or by one of the cat rescue organizations, hopefully to be socialized and given happy comfortable homes.  I suppose there are other things that could have happened to them but I'd rather not consider that option.  I'd prefer to think on the positive side of this.  If anyone has any information, I'd love to find out what happened to them.  I don't claim any ownership or anything, I'd just like to know that they're in the hands of someone who cares.

I guess that makes me all the more thankful that we took Gordito in when we did.


One Big Happy Family.

So, thanks to a little kitten, the house is getting to the the point where we can invite friends over and not feel embarrassed.

And, we have a creature we affectionately call "The Little Bugger" who we just can't enough of.

One of Gordito's favourite spots to sleep.
But only when we're around to supervise.

He now owns my desk

Such a pitty he hates his kitty condo

He has already had his first vet visit.  Dr. Thomas at The Cat Hospital in Willowdale is a gem.

He cuddles, eats sleeps and loves running around the house.  So far, he's won every heat of the Gorditoplis 500.  :)

And, strangely enough, Quita has been happily singing a lot more lately.

After 30 years, I'm genuinely blown away.

I've been playing with various types of high-tech, for fun and profit, for 30 years now.  In fact, 30 years ago, I wrote my first piece of commercial software.  It was called cococopy and was a cassette-based copy utility for the old Radio Shack Colour Computer.  It, and a couple of other projects, paid my way through college.

Over the years, I've gotten to the point where technologically, nothing really excites me.

Until now.

Playing with my new HTC Panache, I fired up an app called "Soundhound."  It claims to be able to identify whatever you play, hum, or sing into it.

Ok.  Fine.  I've heard about it but honestly didn't take it seriously.  That may work for the kind of stuff that passes for music that the kids listen to these days, but what about a real challenge?

There has been this song that I can remember hearing years and years ago.  I don't even think it was in English.  I somehow got the idea that it might have been by Nana Mouskouri or Mariele Matheu but I could find it for the life of me.  In fact, a few months ago the chorus of the song got stuck in my head.  Don't you just hate when that happens and you can't identify the song?

So, anyway, I thought I'd give it a whirl.  I fired up Soundhound and "la la'd" what I believed to be the chorus.

It brought up a list of songs.  The first was completely wrong.

The second song hit paydirt.

For the next half-hour I was sitting there totally dumbfounded only able to utter a continuous barrage of "holy shit."

It correctly identified the song, The version it provided wasentitled "Un Fiume Amaro" performed by Iva Zanicchi back to 1970.

I'd love to find a Polish version of this.  I remember hearing it in Polish a couple of years ago but never got a chance to hear the song identified.

Then I did a bit of digging and discovered that the song is apparently written by Mikis Theodorakis and is called "Ο ΚΑΗΜΟΣ"

A fine example of it in the original Greek is here:

Holy shit.

The Power of 2!

With Copperfield and Coquette occupying my mind a lot lately, the spiritual side of me wonders if someone is trying to tell me something.




This is the story of the number 2.

On Thursday, (June 30) I brought the remains of our 2 late budgies to the good folks at "Pets At Peace" for cremation.  I spent close to two hours there chatting with Anne as well as one of the gentlemen from the crematorium who was doing a delivery/pickup.  I didn't realize they have even created horses.  Wow!  But I digress.

I had two $10 dollar winning lottery tickets from last week in my pocket.  I cashed them in and got 4 Lotto Max tickets for the following draw with 2 encores.

I then thought I'd pop into a local Wal-Mart to see if they have any pairs of shorts in my size and maybe pick up another pair of sandals if they have any "chucks" in my size.

There were exactly two pairs of shorts in stock.  I snapped them up.

There were also two pairs of sandals in stock.  I bought them too.

On Friday, I got an e-mail from someone who I had bought a TowerRAID disk subsystem from that he had two others he would like to sell and he figured he'd just shoot me an e-mail before hitting craigslist.  Since I could definitely use them, I grabbed them.

On Saturday, I checked the lottery tickets.  $20 and 2 free tickets.

I used the $20 to buy tickets for Saturday's draw whose grand prize is -- $20 million.

On Sunday, I checked Saturday's ticket.

It won Two dollars.

Our Little Fighter is Fighting No More

Life sucks sometimes.

Coquette in the Hospital Cage

We've just lost Coquette.

He (yes, Coquette is Male despite the name) is a survivor who went through a lot of stuff that, to be blunt, should have taken him years ago.  But he just simply wasn't ready yet.  He had stuff to do.

Back in October 2007, he was initially diagnosed with a case of Avian Gastric Yeast. ( Also known as Macrorhabdus Ornithogaster or Megabacteriaosis) Bird fanciers recognize this as pretty nasty stuff and although we were able to deal with it, it is usually an indicator that something else is lurking that is allowing the AGY to infiltrate the system.  In Coquette's case, it was his liver.  He was later diagnosed with liver problems but, due to the nature of the avian liver, you can't really do a biopsy because it would kill the bird.  It was decided that we would make him as comfortable as possible but also realize that he is essentially living on borrowed time.

Despite a wonky liver, he lived, for the most part, a happy life, chasing after the females and singing his little heart out whenever he could.

Sometimes the liver would collect so many toxins that it would swell up and cause pressure of various nerves causing what, could be considered, an epileptic seizure.  These "episides" as we would refer to them, would happen over a few hours and then he's be fine for a while -- possibly for a few months.  Lately, the liver started affecting his left leg muscles, weakening  it to the point where it became difficult to get around.  The good folks at the Links Road Animal Clinic mixed together a steroid/vitamin solution which helped tremendously.  He had a complete recovery and was back to his old self.  But over the past week, the leg issues came back.

Today, he was pretty much paralyzed.  He could get around, but with great difficulty.  We knew this was it and at 9:15, he drifted away peacefully with Melody and I holding him and keeping him comfortable.  At the end, it's almost as if he was saying goodbye as he looked at me and then gently laid his head down on the palm of my hand for the last time.

We both knew this day would come, sooner rather than later.  It didn't make it any easier.

Yes, he was my little fighter.  Now he's at rest.

He loved, and I mean loved his millet and egg food.

He enjoyed kissing the lady birds, especially his girlfriend Quta.  He would happily swap birdie spit with Copperfield when Quita wasn't interested.

He was chivalrous and a gentleman.  He would always give up his perch when one of the ladies asked (or as was usually the case, demanded) to sit there.

So now we're left with one single Budgie out of our initial flock of 6.

Quita (short for Poquita) was the runt of the litter when we got her.  She could barely perch.  We thought she'd be the sickly one and she'd probably be the first to go.   I guess she's a fighter, too.  No wonder she and Coquette were a couple.

But don't worry, Coquette.  We'll make sure Quita gets the extra good care and attention she deserves.

We'll miss you, sweetheart.

Goodbye Copperfield

One of our English Budgies died today.

From L-R
Cujo, Quita, Coquette, Copperfield,  Kochany, Columbus

Tomorrow (June 23) would have been the 4th anniversary that we brought Copperfield along with 5 other cute little birds home to fill the house with singing, chirping, flapping and occasional screeching.  For various reasons, 3 of them didn't make it to the 2nd anniversary.  Because of inbreeding, English Budgies have a very high mortality rate and many don't make it to the 5-year mark.

In her case, she's always been particularly hard hit by moults.  The last one, only 6 weeks ago was more difficult than previously but she made it through.  This time, it was definitely a moult, but after a week, (which was typical for her) things didn't improve.  I made a vet appointment for late this afternoon on a gut feeling that even though she was eating something wasn't right.  Unfortunately, she just fell off her perch and died shortly after 1:00 this afternoon.

But this post is to celebrate Copperfield.

She was a typical female budgerigar which, if you know budgies, can mean that they love to boss their males (both avian and human) around and do things their way.

She was a ham for the camera.  She seemed to love having her picture taken.

She didn't mind being kissed on the tummy -- just once -- then she'd fly back to her cage.

She had an amazing sense of direction and knew where her cage was regardless of the direction she was facing.  Budgies aren't known for having any kind of sense of direction at all.

She had a personality.  Birds all have personalities.  Hers leaned more toward the "hammy" side.

I know some people will say "It's just a bird."  Those aren't bird people.  Bird people can have dozens of them and will know each of them individually.  We still have two birds, "Quita" and "Coquette", but each time a bird leaves the flock, something's missing.

I'm at least thankful for the four years we have had with Copperfield.

Hanging out in her favourite coconut

No "will be's" about this.  I already miss her.

Why the NDP's Days Are Numbered

The big headline in Monday's election was the surge in popularity for the NDP.  I'll admit that there were a few moments as the results started coming in where it was looking like we could be in for a Conservative minority with the NDP holding the balance of power or, even more catastrophic, an NDP government.

Then, the returns outside Quebec started coming in and it became apparent that cooler heads were prevailing.

The sudden surge in popularity of the NDP in Quebec is actually something that could very well become their undoing.  In fact, it could be argued that this is the very thing that the party did not want to happen.  Here's Why.

1.  The Quebec Factor

At dissolution, the NDP had 36 seats.  Only one of those is in Quebec  In this election, they won 102, but 58 of them came froim Quebec.  Basically, you take away those new Quebec seats and you have 45 seats, making for a relatively modest gain.  Nothing really to write home about in that their core support really hasn't changed.

The point here is that now, the NDP is going to have to deal with a constituency it's not used to.  A constituency that expects it to be constantly in the government's face dealing with Quebec issues.  Unlike the Bloc, The NDP has never been about just what's best for Quebec but suddenly, more than half it's support relies on it.

It is expected that in the next provincial election, the seperatist PQ will become the new provincial government.  We know what side the federal Conservatives and Liberals (what's left of them) will take if the PQ should initiate another referendum.  But the NDP is basically screwed no matter which side they take.

2.  Promises They Can't Keep

Jack Layton made a ton of promises during the campaign directly aimed at Quebecers.  

Quebecers, thinking that in a minority situation, the NDP might have some clout, gave them the support they would otherwise given the Bloc.

Unfortunately, being the opposition party in a majority government essentially renders them impotent.

The Conservatives basically don't have to do diddly squat with regard to any suggestions the NDP will make.  In fact, much like other majority governments have done in the past, you can pretty much expect the Conservatives to favour Conservative ridings when doling out the goodies.

This will come back to haunt the NDP when the next election rolls around.  Quebecers have no problem turfing MPs or a government they don't like.

What do you suppose they're going to do next election when they look back and realize that the NDP have done nothing to further the Quebecois cause?

3.  A House Full of Newbies

Among the newly-minted MPs are Canada's Youngest MP who, in a radio interview, suggested that it might be a good idea to respect the separatists and a young lady who, apparently, is Canada's ambassador to Las Vegas and who has never set foot in the riding she is about to represent.

Many of these people are young, inexperienced, and basically signed up to run just for something to do never expecting to actually win.  Well, guest what?

A number of radio talk shows have reported that the NDP is asking radio stations not to interview the new MPs because they haven't been "trained" yet.

Now, at this point, it looks like Stephen Harper is going to hit the ground running and Parliament will be in business by the end of May.  These newbies are going to become the laughing stock of the country once they open their mouths during question period.

Now, it's entirely possible that there may be a couple of bright stars in that lot, but it does make you wonder how many of these kids really have a clue what they're setting themselves up for.

Not only that but the Liberals are foaming at the mouth over a few "irregularities" with some of the candidates and demanding a re-vote.  It also wouldn't surprise me that a few of these people will wind up resigning once they consider that there is actually a fair chunk of work involved in being an MP.

All in all, it just looks like a huge screwup waiting to happen.

4.  Under the Microscope

Reconvening Parliament as quickly as possible will leave the Opposition running around like headless chickens trying to figure out what's going on.

You don't really expect the government to cut any slack to these newbies during question period, do you?

Likewise, you can expect each of these opposition members to find themselves under a microscope.  Every little flaw in their personality will be revealed as will any skeletons these kids have in their closets.  I'll bet we'll find out some stuff that rivals Jack Layton's trip to the rub and tug.

Now I realize that by saying this, I'm playing right into the hands of all the Harper haters who are now crying over how Harper is going to turn Canada into a police state and the 52nd state of the U.S.  But think strategically for a minute.  Just because the Conservatives are in a majority situation, doesn't mean that you should overlook your opposition.  There's always the opportunity that the opposition could build even more political strength and wind up snatching power during the next election.  I see it as nothing more than political gamesmanship.  The only difference is that this time, it will be like shooting fish in a barrel.

5.  The Jack Factor

Jack Layton is the figurehead, leader, voice, and look of the NDP.

Jack Layton is a sick man.  I wouldn't wish ill health on anyone, but the one question that he has evaded during the campaign is his health.  If it should worsen in the very near future, what then?  Who will take over.

Part of the success of the NDP is the personality cult of Jack Layton.  Right now, if you take away Jack, there's nothing left.

We finally got it right!

It's a good day to be a Conservative.


The numbers fell perfectly into place last night.  Stephen Harper got the majority he needed.  Now he can get down to business and not have to deal with all the political pettiness -- well at least for the next 4 or so years, anyway.


I'm glad the NDP got to become the opposition in a majority government.  This way, they can froth away all they like but they can't really do any harm.  They'll be sort of like a eunuch at a bordello.  (or perhaps a "rub and tug", in this case)  Jack's "velvet touch" won the day and now he and Olivia can enjoy some subsidized housing just like they had back home in Toronto.  

If you're not a fan of the NDP, this turn of events is actually a very positive outcome.  Being in opposition will put the Party, its leader, and other high-profile party members (are there any other than Smiling Jack and Olivia?) under a microscope they may not be entirely prepared for.    

The Bloc?  Good riddance.  Just one thought.  I guess since they worked so hard against the government of the day, I'm sure former Bloc members of long standing will refuse their parliamentary pensions.

Didn't think so.

Iggy was sent a pretty clear message last night.  I was particularly gratified that the traditionally Liberal immigrant vote finally woke up to reality.  Now it's time for the party to rebuild.  And they should start by electing, not appointing, their next leader.

Now that Elizabeth May finally got her seat, I hope she takes it, shuts the hell up and enjoys the one term she will spend in parliament.  I'm not sure if her constituents entirely realize that they have effectively put themselves in the political wilderness.  Then again, that BC bud is killer.  Maybe we can set up a card table out in the hall where she can sit with the Bloc members so they don't get in the way of the grownups at the main table.

Whining about not being a "real" majority:

I've already heard the sour grapes from the progressives whining about how the conservatives won with only 40% of the popular vote.  Hardly a "majority."

That's true.  The conservatives did win with only 40% of the vote.  But the NDP had 31% and Liberals got 20%.

So, using this progressive logic, it should be plain as day that 69% of voters voted against the NDP and an overwhelming 80% voted against the Liberals.

Puts a whole new spin on the argument, doesn't it?

Four words that struck fear in the majority of the voters:

Last week, I had a spirited but cordial chat with a gentleman canvassing for the local high-profile Liberal candidate. (who lost, by the way)

We obviously were at odds politically, and we agreed to disagree on a number of points.

But one thing that we both agreed on completely.  Four words that gave us both a sense of genuine fear.

"Prime Minister Jack Layton"

I'm glad that 69% of voters saw it the same way.

At that, we shook hands and wished each other luck.

And now the conservatives can get some work done.

It's a good day.

The Hour of Power

David Menzies celebrating the Human Achievement hour
(photo courtesy Joe Warmington & David Menzies)

I had the pleasure of spending the first part of "Earth Hour" at the Richmond Hill residence of Writer/Broadcaster David Menzies who was celebrating Human Achievement Hour by setting up some powerful search lights in his driveway and enjoying some snacks and drinks.

You can read more about it here.  The Menzoid makes the case so much more succinctly and eloquently than I can.

If anything, it's a demonstration that there are some people in the world who don't just follow blindly something the "experts" tell us is irrefutable fact -- even if those facts are based, at best, on data which has been cherry-picked in order to prove their hypothesis.  It's much like the expert opinions on nutrition.  If you do a little bit of research you'll discover that saturated fat and cholesterol are actually good for you, yet popular wisdom has demonized them.

The simple fact is that the earth has been experiencing climate change since it came into existence.  It's what did in the dinosaurs and will eventually wipe us out to make room for the next species who will roam the planet thinking they can actually control the whims of mother nature.

Along with Mr. Menzies, I don't like being preached to.  We pay for our electricity.  Therefore, we should feel free to use as much as we care to.  What really bugs me is the sanctimonious attitude of those who participate figuring that they're saving the environment.  They think it's a good idea to light candles.  The vast majority of caldles are made of paraffin -- a substance made of petroleum.  Considering that something like 95% of the electricity in Ontario in considered clean energy, the mere act of lighting a bunch of dirty candles with their awful carbon footprint would defeat the whole purpose, would it not?

However, all is not lost.  I did notice that common sense is definitely taking hold.

Driving home at about 9:00, I didn't notice any lights dimmed along the stretch of Yonge Street between Richmond Hill and North York.  In fact, when I got home at about 9:15, I took a spin around the block and lo and behold, lights were on everywhere.  In fact, it seemed that some houses aside from mine had extra lights turned on to celebrate the occasion.

It was heartwarming.

At that point, I got home and turned out the lights.  The point has been made.


Additional information added Monday, March 28.

Well, according to an article in the Toronto Star, Toronto saw a 5% drop in power usage during the hour of power -- half of the 10% drop from last year.

In fact, many households of the biggest proponents of earth hour were caught leaving their lights on for the hour.  David Miller and Ontario Energy Minister Brad Duguid were apparently not at home so they couldn't turn their lights off (am I the only one that finds that odd?) but there was absolutely no excuse for the following:

According to this article in the star:

The lights were going full tilt in the living room and front hall Saturday night at the home of Jed Goldberg, president of Earth Day Canada. 

That evening a Star photographer showed up out front and a next door neighbour asked him what he was shooting. Shortly after the neighbour entered her home, the lights went out at Goldberg’s.

But the lights went on again minutes later, and a young man ran out of Goldberg’s saying the picture was unfair because the house has solar panels, and the family drives a hybrid vehicle.

Nice to see these people leading by example in their typical left-wing "Do as I say not as I do" attitude.

A day in my life -- 25 years ago.

25 years ago today, the space shuttle challenger blew up.

Kiddies, you can find the relevant details here

That's not really what this post is about.

However, the events of that particular day allowed me to remember, with more clarity that normal, what went on in my life on that particular day.

I woke up that morning hearing bulletins on the clock radio about the incident.  That means I must have woken up around noon.  Yep, I wasn't a morning person back then, either.

I was working in radio back then, specifically, I was the afternoon drive announcer at CKLA in Guelph.  Back then, it played "beautiful music" and was heard in doctors and dentists offices all over the region.  Seriously, even at that time, although the music they played was considered old and stale by contemporary standards of the time, the fact remained that people were listening and the station actually made money.  But I digress.

When I came into work that day (around 3:00) they had ditched the elevator music in favour of playing constant news coverage of the event.  I thought it was rather interesting only because that meant I didn't really have to "work" that day as the newspeople basically took over until aout 5 or 6 that day.

So, drinking coffee and engaging in idle chatter that day, I experienced two things that demonstrate how people cope with these things:

1.  My first "space shuttle" jokes.  I remember the first clearly.  It was that NASA stands for "Nice Air Shot Assholes."  The second one I don't recall clearly but it had something to do the space shuttle being the world's most expensive ashtray.   (Hey, I never said they were in good taste or even actually funny!)  I should point out that these comments only circulated amongst those of us on the lower rungs at the station and never, and I mean never within range of a manager or, God forbid, a microphone.  Management was very serious about the whole issue and, at least publicly in the building, demonstrated leadership in how we were supposed to behave on-air about the incident.

2. My first experience with public grief.  People seemed to be all beside themselves over the fact that these seven unfortunate people died doing something that is, inherently, dangerous.   The phone lines at the station were flooded by calls from people telling us how awful the whole event was.  They needed to talk to someone about it.  I'm not downplaying the sadness of the incident, but in my mind at the time my reaction was more along the lines of "bummer, that sucks" but unless I had a personal connection to any of the astronauts, I didn't see the logic in being in grief over it.  Sometime later, Jean-Michel Jarre released his album "Rendez-Vouz" which had a piece where the saxophone part was to be performed from that shuttle by Ron McNair.  Suddenly there was a connection for me.  I didn't go into convulsions of grief.  My reaction was "Major bummer.  That really sucks."

That's pretty much it.  No heavy-duty stories to relate here other than the fact that I still remember something I experienced 25 years ago.  If there's a point here, I guess it's just that when I heard about the 25th anniversary on the news this morning, I was amazed at the memories that came back and at how an incident like that has a tendency to bring out those "where were you when..." types of memories.

Which leads me to remember that when Columbia blew up 17 years later (Feb 1, 2003) my wife and I were on our way to the Canadian national junior figure skating championships in Brampton and we heard the bulletin on the radio.

Amazing how the mind works.

Happy Robert Burns Day!

I'm not Scottish, but I've always had some sort of kinship with them.  Perhaps it's my own red beard and the fact that I actually like the sounds of the bagpipes.  And there's something about the accent -- especially when coming from a young lass.

But in observation of this special day, here's one of Burns' greatest poems.  I'll leave it up to the reader to fully understand it, but, this is why Google is our friend.


Nine Inch Will Please a Lady
(Robert Burns)

Come rede me dame, come tell me dame,
My dame come tell me truly,
What length o' graith when weel ca'd hame
Will sair a woman duly?"
The carlin clew her wanton tail,
Her wanton tail sae ready,
"l learn'd a sang in Annandale,
Nine inch will please a lady."


"But for a koontrie cunt like mine,
In sooth we're not sae gentle;
We'll tak tway thumb-bread to the nine,
And that is a sonsy pintle.
Oh, Leeze me on, my Charlie lad,
I'll ne'er forget my Charlie,
Tway roaring handfuls and a daud
He nidged it in fu' rarely."


But wear fa' the laithron doup
And may it ne'er be thriving,
It's not the length that makes me loup
But it's the double drivin.
Come nidge me Tom, come nidge me Tom
Come nidge me, o'er the nyvel
Come lowse an lug your battering ram
And thrash him at my gyvel!

What Ever happened to context?

It's a sad day for people who prefer to think for themselves.

Today, the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council  released its decision concerning the broadcast of the unedited version of the song "Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits on CHOZ-FM (OZ FM, Newfoundland).  The CBSC concluded that the presence of the word "faggot" in the song contravened the Human Rights Clauses of the Canadian Association of Broadcasters' (CAB)Code of Ethics and Equitable Portrayal Code.


The CBSC is a self-governing body of the broadcast industry so that, ostensibly government doesn't have to worry about creating and enforcing policy regarding material that may be offensive to those who may easily take offence.


I find this ruling to be especially scary for three reasons:

1. The ruling does nothing to address the context in which the word "faggot" is used.  It is perjoritive, but it actually ridicules the person uttering the offensive word.  Sure, words can be offensive, but perhaps looking at things in context would have dismissed this complaint right from the start.
2. This entire thing was precipitated by a _single_ complaint.  Basically, one person's opinion changes everything.
3. As a result, it is now verboten to play the full, unedited version of this song.

What's next?  We should ban "I saw her standing there" by The Beatles because the lyric "She was just 17, you know what I mean." which very obviously is suggestive of abusing children.


Context is everything.


Yet another example of how society really is going to hell.  Maybe this whole 2012 apocalypse thing isn't so far fetched after all.


With that, I think I need to go out and get a few fagots of kindling for the fire.

Thanking our new Mayor

On the first day of 2011, my bride (that's the cute chick in the photo) and I went down to City Hall to congratulate our new Mayor, Rob Ford, wish him well, and thank him for being the new Mayor of Toronto.

Here's a man who decided he was going to change things and took it upon himself to make it happen.  Along the way, he was able to galvanize public opinion and create a rally cry that caused an unprecedented turnout at the polls last year.  He made people realize that one person, one vote, really can make a difference.

If you saw Global News at 6:00 on New Year's Day, the guy with the scruffy red beard was me talking about Ford, being a regular guy, was able to communicate with regular people and understand where they're coming from.  Aside from the now famous "gravy train" message, his biggest catchphrase is "just call me."  His brother, newly minted Councillor Doug Ford, even told us not to hesitate to call if we need something, despite the fact that we don't live in his ward.

My main purpose for being there, though, was to thank him for running for Mayor and being willing to put up with all the unfounded bile and downright venom he's going to have to endure over the next 4 years.

Ok.  So this probably tells you where I stand politically.  I often wonder how I managed to survive the last 10 years (before making good my escape) of working amongst a number of "progressive" thinkers who were ready to eviscerate him at the drop of a hat.

One thing that struck me as a sign of how things used to be was when we were waiting in line at the levee and the line passed by a scale model of the city -- a model that only showed the city south of Bloor.  Yup, anything north of Bloor or off in the hinterlands of Etobicoke or Scarborough just didn't matter.  Seems to me that was basically the mantra of the city fathers (and a couple of real mothers) over the last 7 years.

In his first month in office, Mayor Ford has done what he pledged he would do.  But moreover, and I think this is the big deal, he is listening to the public and reacting by dealing with them.  Specifically:

• The plastic bag levy.
• At first, Ford said it was not a priority to do anything about it unless he heard otherwise.  Well, he certainly did and it has become one his next items on the chopping block.  I'm not going to get into a pissing match with environmentalists, most of whom have already poisoned themselves on the green kool-aid, but I've never been too terribly keen on having the government dictate that a retailer _must_ charge a fixed price for a particular commodity.
• Arts Funding
• Ford named Jeff Melanson, executive direction of Canada's national ballet school, as his special arts adviser.  Melanson was willing to do it as long as Ford promised not one penny would be reduced from the budget.  Ford agreed.  Reading what Melanson has to say about Ford's take on the arts in the Toronto Star makes it pretty clear that Ford understands that arts funding, done right, will create a "win-win" situation.  Melanson said that unlike Miller, Ford is definitely someone who can not only "talk the talk" but "walk the walk."

It seems pretty clear to me that Ford is not only a listener, but is interested in what can benefit everybody the most and making it happen, even if it's not immediately apparent to him.

Wonder how many of his campaign promises Smitherman would have outright broken by now?

I'll say it again.  Thank you, Mr. Ford.

First Post

So....

Here we are, it's 2011.  Time to get introspective...or just start a blog.

We often look forward to the new year with thoughts of finally getting around to doing what we've been meaning/needing/wanting/not bothering to do for the past year, or years.

We often think about how lousy the past year was and how everything is going to get better.

Personally, 2010, in retrospect, was a hell of good year for me.

Why?

Mainly because I discovered a number of things, among them:

• I like the taste of gin.  There was a time I preferred vodka in my martinis.
• My life isn't defined by what I do for a living.
• Abandoning what I may have really wanted to do with my life 26 years ago just for more money wasn't such a good idea after all.
• My job is not the love of my life.
• My wife is the love of my life.

Yeah, 2011 is going to be pretty good, too.