Working during the best years of your life for a pension during the worst years is kind of a wack trade. Sure, it would be nice to have a steady, reliable income so you could live comfortably when you’re older, but your body only works well for so long before things start to hurt and your health starts to fail, so I think it’s probably best to strike a balance somehow. Maybe moderating how much you work in your best years and making sure to take enough time to really make enjoy your good health, and taking less of a pension later is a good option. Or working like a dog but retiring super early so you at least have a handful of good years left before your arthritis and back issues and fucked heart prevent you from doing anything but watching The Price Is Right and collecting a fat pension you can’t do shit with. Both of those sound reasonable to me.
But it’s funny how pensions and the promise of lots of money later lure people in. I have co-workers who are obsessed with this stuff and are always thinking about how, if they work this much more and make that much more money for X number of years, they’ll make this much more per year on their pension. They’re always talking about it, always chasing a bigger pension that is 25-30 years down the road. They have fully bought into it, and I think that’s as nuts as a lazy sod being like “nah I’m not gonna work at all, I’m content to live on social assistance and lead an extremely meager existence” — they are equally extreme, just in opposite directions. But we only see the lazy sod as being unhinged, not the pension seeker. I think North American work culture has really done a bang-up job of programming us this way, to overvalue hard work and pensions.
On top of wasting your good health working instead of living, there is also the risk of dying before you get to collect your pension. I’ve heard of lots of people in my line of work who died within their first year of retirement, and I can’t imagine a more cruel joke. Well, I guess dying while still young and not even getting to retire at all would be a more cruel joke, and I do hear of that happening occasionally too.
I’m not convinced we are even going to be able to collect pensions by the time I reach 65. Pensions come from financial investments the government makes, and as climate change causes more and more chaos around the globe, I think it’s likely that many investments, and thus pensions, are going to start to collapse. So you could bust your hump so that you are “guaranteed” a big fat pension cheque each month, but if the world becomes a raging inferno and food and water and housing become harder to secure, you can bet all the investments and theoretical wealth around the world will dry up and/or mean nothing. Now there’s no money to pay you for all your hard work all those years ago. It’s a terrifying thought, but I think it’s a realistic one when you look at how extreme wildfires are getting, how more towns and cities are being ravaged by them each year, how we are seeing extended droughts everywhere (even in the winter now), how the lack of snow pack in mountains means rivers running low which means hydro dams can’t create enough electricity to power all the air conditioners we now need to avoid cooking in the summer. I could go on but you get the idea — when the world falls apart, simply surviving will be everyone’s priority. Paying you the pension you earned will not be anyone’s priority.
Another aspect ties a few of these possibilities together: even if you don’t die soon or run into unpleasant health problems soon, if the world does dissolve into utter chaos due to climate change, it’s gonna be hard living then, period. I believe we are on that course (although the timeline for the real breakdown of society is up in the air — I bet it will be in my lifetime but of course I actually have no idea), and that’s part of why I think it’s so important to enjoy life now. Enjoy it while we still have some water, and 40 degree summer days only occur every for a week or so each year. Enjoy it before it’s your town and home that starts burning. Make the best of this while you can, because things are already alarming now, and they are steadily getting worse as we speak. Don’t wait 30 years to have fun because by then, joy might be pretty hard to find.
Started writing this a few days ago, a bit late now but better than never.
******
It was 23 degrees today, and if you stood in the sun it was really fucking hot. I sweated multiple times while doing stuff outside. This is the second October in a row like this. It’s fucking crazy. Most people I talk to are like “this is great, it’s so nice out,” but I don’t know how anyone can feel good when October feels like June used to. That should be alarming to everyone. But I guess if people aren’t already alarmed by the droughts, wildfires, and increasing temperatures we now see for half of each year, a warm October sure isn’t going to do it.
We really are becoming the proverbial frog in the pot, not noticing that we are slowly cooking.
It’s August 10th, 2023. The world has already been scorched worse than ever before, and then yesterday I read in the news that a town in Hawaii was the latest place to burn to the ground. Now I see that BC is expecting a heat wave next week with temps in the mid to high 30’s. That’s fucking hot, almost heat dome hot. Grim.
And you know what? For whatever reason, today I’m not bothered by any of that. I actually just feel pretty darn vindicated, pretty “I told you so.” I think of all the years I raved like a lunatic about how humanity needed to change the way we live on this planet, how our wasteful consumerist culture wasn’t sustainable, and, well, here we are!
What’s my next smug prediction? That the heat here next week will be shitty, that there will be more fires, that people still won’t care, and this will continue to get worse and worse in the coming years until our established systems start to collapse. Then the real chaos will occur.
🙂
In other news, today my fugitive chicken Vivian reappeared after about a week of hiding who knows where. This is the hen who went exploring and got stuck behind a cabinet in the garage for 2-3 days before I happened upon her and had to spend a few hours bathing all the maggots off of her and treating her wounds. I noticed before Vivian disappeared this second time that she was acting a little broody so I thought it was possible she was hiding, sitting on a clutch of eggs somewhere, but wasn’t confident in that. I was more convinced she got stuck somewhere weird again and this time wasn’t lucky enough to be found. It actually made me feel awful for her, being trapped again and slowly dying like that, alone, confused, scared, in pain. So today when I threw a pizza crust out the window for the chickens and heard the distinct vocalizations of a broody hen and saw Vivian zip over and begin ravenously digging into said pizza crust, I was quite pleased. Dang chickens. They’ll break your heart a hundred times over.
Ok, take two. Gonna try to recap our recent road trip without getting mired in nihilism this time. Please note I’m doing this as a diary for myself so it will likely be boring for you. Apologies.
Day 1 Left the house right on schedule yet got to the Duke Point ferry terminal with literally zero time to spare — we had made a reservation but you have to arrive at least 30 minutes prior to the sailing or else BC Ferries doesn’t honour it, the snakes. We had given ourselves an extra 15 minutes to get there but traffic in Duncan was so fucked that it ate up the entire 15 minutes. Ferry ride was fine, ate some tasty trash White Spot for lunch.
Driving in the lower mainland sucked, traffic was terrible. Stopped at a gas station to buy double bass drum pedals from a guy through FB marketplace and what do you know, he was nice and normal and the pedals are great. Plus the gas station had a Triple O’s so we got milkshakes as per our road trip tradition. That’s right, two White Spot hits in one day. Legit. Got to Merritt and it was hot and smoky from the wildfires. Merritt is a cool, sad little town though. I want to spend more time there in the future. We saw a gross-looking pub we wanted to hit so bad. Next time. Got to Glimpse Lake and set up our travel trailer at the airbnb everyone else seemed to be staying at, then went to the Baker’s cabin and spent the evening with everyone there. I had some lovely conversations with Kyla and Cecia about distinctly non-festive topics. I just can’t stop. Oh well, they couldn’t either so I was in good company.
Day 2 Slept well. Got up and got ready for the wedding. Was told by people that in my semi-formal attire, I looked like a school principal or music teacher. Not the best compliments I’ve received but it could be far worse so I was ok with those. It was smoky as sin out and I thought about how grim it is for a young couple to be getting married in a sea of wildfire smoke. Feels so hopeless, like, why bother? The world is burning anyway. I kept these thoughts to myself. Luckily for the couple, the smoke cleared for the wedding ceremony. The ceremony itself was nice, not too long. Cecia rapidly dissolved into a sobbing mess and used her hat as a container for all her snotty, teary tissues. It was hilarious and wonderful. After the ceremony Jenn and I drove the truck and trailer to Kamloops for the reception. It was a pretty drive. Got to Kamloops and it was also hot and smoky. Parked at a very sad, trashy campground. Dropped the trailer there in an open field and headed to the venue. The reception was utterly fantastic, I loved it from start to finish. I took 200 mg of caffeine just before it to keep myself ‘up,’ that may have impacted my feelings on it, but anyway. We sat at a table with Kyla, Russ, Liam, Chantelle, and Scott Baldry. Kyla and I critiqued everything, Jenn disapproved but I enjoyed having a Statler to my Waldorf.
The food was fine. Some speeches were good, some were awful, but they didn’t last terribly long so that was good. Dancing started and the crowd was tepid for several songs until the mother and sisters of the bride emerged dressed as an ABBA tribute group and put on a splendid little performance and got everyone pumped up. Lots more disco followed so of course I danced. Gradually the music shifted to 90’s hip hop/R&B stuff I don’t know so I took some breathers toward the end of the night but there was still tons of great tunes. I requested Party in the USA for Steve Walter because he loves that song, it was funny. I probably danced to 85% of the music that night — shit, maybe from about 8 pm till midnight? Wow, that’s nuts. Honourable mentions: Kyla and Cecia were bonkers dancers, loved them. Sean and Joel were pumped about a dark disco song I’d never heard called Walk the Night or something, and I loved it. It had such a menacing vibe despite being so dance-able. I got to know Rory’s fiancee, Mort, a bit better and decided I really like her, and want her and Kate to meet because they’re like long lost sisters and I bet they will get along smashingly. Had some great chats with Scott Baldry and was wow’d by how unassumingly astute he is. I never knew him well, and haven’t spent much time with him in the last decade and a half. Always liked him but just didn’t realize how smart he is. I spent a lot of time fucking with Russ throughout the night, grabbing his ass and whatnot. We finally left the wedding around midnight and went back to our trash open field campground where I proceeded to barely sleep a wink. No idea why.
Day 3 Got up early because I was just laying there not sleeping, and we were in full sun and hot as fuck by 6 am. Jenn was very hungover. Packed up and went for breakfast at a perfect spot, a filthy little diner just down the road. Surly 60-something year old waitress who looked like a character in a John Waters film due to her wildly loud and outdated style. Tasty food, very affordable. Jenn dragged me to the horse store next door afterward. Started driving north, saw some cute tiny towns. Little Fort and Lone Butte were my faves, they were so quaint. Bought some amazing baked goods at a general store in Bridge Lake. Tried swimming at Lac des Roches but Jenn sunk up to her knees in muck (much to my delight) so we abandoned that and continued on. The drive north on highway 97 wasn’t very interesting, just lots of small, broke ass towns that weren’t interesting. Lots of gross-looking houses and trailers and people. Started noticing lots of wildfire fighters everywhere. Stopped for ice cream and had a look around a historic site at 108 Mile. Got to Quesnel, headed East to Wells. Saw an old cemetery and abandoned buildings in the remnants of Stanley. Came across a young tree planter who had crashed her car by falling asleep at the wheel and driving down a steep bank. She was fine and her tree planter pal came and picked her up. Continued on, saw either a small wolf or a big coyote. Got to Wells and was wow’d by it. Such a colourful little town in the middle of nowhere. We got a campsite and rode our bikes around town all evening, got ice cream there too. Lots of neat buildings and art pieces everywhere. I woke up in the middle of the night and heard wolves howling.
Day 4 Got up early and headed to Barkerville. We had heard lots of good things about the actors there but we didn’t see any. The workers in the cafes and gift shops were dressed old time-y but they weren’t in character or anything. I had mixed feelings about this because I had wanted to see actors hamming it up but was also worried it would be too embarrassing for me to take. We enjoyed checking the place out anyway, lots of interesting history there. Saw a big black bear on our hike back from the courthouse in Richfield or whatever it’s called. Jenn got a lesson in gold panning and got to try it, that was the highlight for both of us there. Left there and headed south to Big Lake Ranch to visit me mommy at her new place. Lots more wildfire fighters along the way. It was a great visit with mom, she showed us around her farm, we played with her dogs, caught up lots, and she made a fantastic meal.
Day 5 Had a leisurely breakfast with mom then started the long drive home. It was hot as hell. Smoky. Firefighters. We stopped for thrift shopping and lunch in Lac le Hache. A woman in the restaurant kept clearing her throat violently every two minutes or so. It was so fucking loud it hurt my ears each time. She was sitting with two men but they didn’t seem to notice or care, and I was baffled. A TV was on, the news was talking lots about “hottest week in history of the planet last week, next week even hotter, Canada wildfires out of control, etc.” The news widget on my phone’s home screen kept saying that stuff too, and it really started to get to me. I have a hard enough time being miserable and depressed as it is, and being confronted this whole trip with smoke, incredible heat, wildfire fighters, possible highway closures, and now non-stop news about these things bothered me a lot. So I removed the news headlines thing from my phone, and have been reading the news less since then. I know the situation is bad and getting worse, and I don’t believe it’s going to stop, so it’s best for me to not dwell on it any more than I already do. The food at the restaurant was great though.
Stopped in Clinton because Jenn saw some vintage/junk stores but all of them were overpriced tourist traps. Got down to the Fraser Canyon and holy hell, it was hot as tits throughout there. The A/C in the truck couldn’t keep up with it so we just had to drive with the windows open. Stopped for ice cream in Boston Bar and it was a terrifically sad place. We had wanted to hit Hell’s Gate but were too late, bummed about that. We stopped and hiked down to the old Alexandra Bridge and that was amazing, one of the highlights of the trip for me. It’s such a relic of a bygone era, a massive piece of work that is now largely forgotten. I’ve been obsessed lately with impermanence, how things we unconsciously think will last forever, don’t. And when future generations see the remnants of these old things, they laugh at the past because it seems so old fashioned, out of touch, out of date, silly in comparison to newer technologies and whatnot. Nothing lasts. All the dried up towns in the canyon were a good example of this: the canyon had once been the only highway in the area, and the towns had thrived because of all the traffic. Then the Coquihalla highway was built and all the canyon towns died. I used to like seeing them but on this trip it made me sad, probably because I was already feeling kind of fucked and hopeless. Got to Yale, found a campground, biked down to the river for a swim before dinner. Janna called Jenn and said she could see the northern lights so we looked for those but couldn’t see them.
Day 6 Got up early and made tracks for the Tsawwassen ferry terminal. We had made a reservation for 11:00 am, expecting traffic to be piss, but it actually wasn’t too bad. Got to the terminal at 9, asked if we could change our reservation and get on the 10, and they said yup so that was great. AND THEN I GOT BUBBLE TEA. I had waited the whole trip for this moment — the last time I was there I found a vendor selling bubble tea at the little market there. I wasn’t sure if they would be open this early but they were! I got a mocha one and it was very good. I can’t believe how much better bubble tea makes my ferry experience. And that was pretty much it. Ferry ride was fine, we hid in the trailer and read (I was reading The Road, probably a terrible idea), the drive from Swartz Bay home was good, minimal traffic.
We just returned from a road trip to the interior of BC. The first reason for the trip was a wedding, second reason was to visit my mom and see her new place, third reason was to make a vacation out of it and do some road tripping like we hadn’t done in years. It was a great trip: the wedding was a ton of fun, the visit with my mom was really nice, and the road tripping was just like our classic adventures. But there was a hitch: it was hot as hell, and BC was (and still is, and likely will be for several months) largely on fire so there was lots of smoke everywhere we went, and that really gave the trip a tense, scary, “you’re having fun right now but the chaos is on your doorstep” feeling. And not just in a “your trip might be impacted by the wildfires” way. It was bigger, heavier, more ominous than that.
When Stella died recently, I found myself using the word ‘sad’ to describe how I felt about it. It’s such a simple, basic, kind of dumb word, but it was exactly how I felt — I wasn’t crushed or broken, and I wasn’t “oh well, life goes on.” I was sad. Similarly, I find ‘scary’ is a dumb word but I think it really applies to these summers of the last 10 years. The droughts, heat, and fires just keep getting worse and worse, and while life is still able to mostly go on for now, I get scared thinking about the chaos that is likely just around the corner. I’m beyond worried but not panicking, and I feel like ‘scared’ is somewhere in the middle there, so it works: I’m scared of summer.
I know this isn’t new. I remember some previous posts I’ve made about my summer dread, and the same factors were at play. But summer keeps getting worse and still, no one is doing shit. We’re just continuing to live our normal lives as if this will sort itself out. We are the frog in the pot of water that is starting to boil.
Yesterday Jenn and I were talking about this, and about the illusion we have that things are being done to prevent further environmental damage. We’re all encouraged to recycle properly and take shorter showers in the summer, maybe buy an electric car if you can afford it. But guess what, those tiny acts don’t amount to shit. Never mind that most people don’t care and don’t do that stuff anyway. I think the main reason governments encourage people to do that stuff is to placate the hippies, to make them feel like real steps are being taken — because if you’re doing it yourself, you feel involved, you see the efforts firsthand, you feel good about doing your part. But that’s as far as your tiny efforts go: those same governments are still bowing to rich corporations and signing off on drilling for more oil, fracking for more gas, building more pipelines. Airplanes are still flying constantly, puking forth immense amounts of pollution. Mining companies spill millions of cubic meters of toxic waste into lakes that are drinking water for the province and important fish breeding grounds, and the companies blame a few employees who are then fined one year of wages each, and then work resumes like normal.
So go ahead and keep sorting your glass and tins and paper products. Do what you need to feel like you are doing what you can, but know that this situation is like being passengers on a bus driven by governments and big corporations. They’re steering it straight for a cliff, and most of the passengers are too busy staring at their phones to notice or care, and those who do care are encouraged by the driver to stick their hands out the window to try to slow the bus down. Your hands aren’t doing shit but it’s keeping you busy, and that’s what they really want.
Well, that’s not the post I wanted to write. I wanted to do a little road trip diary that mentioned all the fun stuff we did AND the scary wildfire stuff that kept reminding us of how bad the situation is. I wanted to capture the opposing feelings, the wild pendulum swings between the fun and scary. But I guess I’ve been feeling so bad that I needed to get this out first. I’ll try again later.
I’m at the Duke Point Ferry terminal, waiting to get on the ferry to Tsawwassen. No one used to use this terminal, it was just truckers and their big rigs, but now it’s a Wednesday morning at 7 am and it’s jam packed with vacationers. The south island has changed so much since I was a kid. Anyway, the air smells of wildfire smoke and you can’t see the mainland from here because it’s obscured by the haze from the smoke, but you wouldn’t know it from all the happy young families that are running around, all excited about their vacations they are heading out on. I love the visual of these cheery families, merrily driving straight into the choking, suffocating apocalypse. It’s such a clear and direct metaphor for what the human race as a whole is doing. I feel lucky that I get to witness this madness.
There’s so much I want to say but I don’t wanna sit at a computer for hours and really dig into each one, so let’s go with the rapid(-ish) fire approach.
I think I’m going to actually start using social media again. FB already knows exactly who I am despite me giving all incorrect personal information when I signed up and having never added a single friend. I figure it will be good to have to keep in touch with people better once Jenn and I move up island, and I kind of want to get a jump on it before then. So be on the look out for that extremely exciting development, boys and girls.
Season 4 of Stranger Things is a fucking turd. The acting is all garrish and over-the-top, everyone’s facial expressions are absurdly exaggerated, like with their eyes bugging out all the time. The kids are supposed to be 14-15 yrs old and in grade 9 but they all look like strapping young adults now, because that’s what they actually are!! Seeing Will dressed in dorky clothes and keeping the ugly bowl cut is such a joke when we can clearly see he is now a 6’2″ lean and fit man. There are too many different stories going on at the same time so each one only gets a few minutes air time each episode, plus each story is way too huge in scope — just one subplot on its own would be enough for its own season or spinoff. The episodes are too long. The monster isn’t scary, it’s stupid. I’m sick of a new monster popping up each season. I could go on but that’s enough to get my point across. Season 4 is almost as bad as the second season. It makes me wonder if the first season was as good as I remember it. Maybe I’ll revisit it this year, just to see.
It’s the summer solstice today, and I’m thrilled that the days are already going to start getting shorter again. It’s usually such a slog to reach this point what with hot weather, droughts, wildfires and whatnot, but this year it’s been so dang mild and rainy that I can hardly believe we are here. It’s fantastic. It’s nuts that meanwhile, elsewhere in North America, killer heatwaves are going on. Anyway, I look forward to moving up island and having EVERY spring/summer be like this. Fuck the sun, fuck the heat.
We had a death in the family recently and so far I haven’t felt much over it. Actually, I haven’t felt anything at all. It’s weird because I remember years ago, thinking about this person dying and how I would miss their company, but here I am and so far, nothing. It makes me wonder what’s up with my brain. I know I’m not a total monster, I cried for about a week when my best chicken, Big Red, died last year. Same for a chick that Big Red adopted years ago, I was a total wreck over those two chicken deaths, so why not now for a human death? I have a feeling the grief is in here somewhere, I’m probably just burying it unintentionally. Once when Jenn and I went to Berlin, we took a lot of historical tours and I learned a lot about the second world war, the staggering number of deaths, atrocities and whatnot, and felt nothing through all of that too. But then on our last day there I saw a statue of a Russian soldier bidding his fallen comrades farewell and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the waterworks turned on. I was quite astonished. Anyway, that’s what I bet is going on now too most likely, but I still feel guilty for not feeling more upset.
I’ve seen a handful of good movies lately. In the Earth, Sea Fever, and Malignant were all tres bonne. So far I’m very happy with my new approach of watching trailers, even just for a few moments — whatever I need to ascertain that the film has a decent budget, acting, atmosphere, etc.
That’s all I have patience for right now. Sorry Tom, I know you want more, MORE, MORE!!! but my back is killing me sitting here. I’ve gotta get up and move around.
Lately I’ve been feeling really nostalgic for the holiday season, just reminiscing on xmas 2019 a lot and looking forward to xmas 2020 like crazy. It’s weird because I’ve always liked xmas but not this much, nowhere close. Halloween was always #1 for me but the month of December has now eclipsed it. Maybe that’s the thing, maybe xmas used to just be about the one day, which is nice for sure, but now it’s more like a month-long celebration, full of warm twinkly lights in the darkness, fantastic food, spending quality time with good friends, and warm feelings. For the last few years we’ve pared down on the obligatory family visits and increased the number of xmas parties and get-togethers with friends that we hit over the month and this last year was really nice. I think we had something like 13 xmas events over the course of the month. It was a lot for sure, almost too much, but in hindsight I’m happy with it because of all the great memories I have from them.
Boy, that wasn’t very tough to figure out. It’s not so much that I’m a Christmas guy, it’s that the whole month is packed with great times with friends. I guess some summers have that going for them too but it’s more weather dependent so it doesn’t always happen that way, plus all the heat and sunlight suck, and then there’s the stress of droughts and wildfires. December is reliably cold and dark so that really gives it a leg up for a mushroom like me.
So to be more precise, I’ve become a ‘multiple events with friends over the entire month of December’ kind of guy.
One of the great things about lacking empathy is that this coronavirus pandemic isn’t bothering me at all. I’ll tell you, I feel just fine. To be honest, I feel better than fine — I feel great.
A few nights ago, we had friends over for a camp fire and some people were saying how it feels like we’re on the brink of armageddon or the end of the world, that even our nice night together was shot through with feelings of dread and impending doom. I didn’t feel that way at all though, I thought it was just lovely spending quality time with good friends. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Then today, my massage therapist was saying that although she isn’t too concerned about the virus itself, the culture of fear that is reaching a fever pitch right now is affecting her and causing her anxieties about totally unrelated things to flare up. It’s a weird sympathetic response to the fear around her.
I understand how these people are feeling. I’ve felt it over numerous summers because of the droughts and wildfires, but I can’t relate to feeling it over this. Actually, despite all the rain we had in recent months, we haven’t had any rain for several weeks now, and there’s none in the forecast either. This worries me far more than the coronavirus does. I mean, the vast majority of people who are going to die from covid-19 are people who are already pretty close to death, so realistically it would only be moving the inevitable ahead by a few years, and those would probably be the lowest quality years of their lives anyway. My dad falls into this category so if he catches it, he’ll probably croak. I’d surely have a little boo-hoo then but it’s not like it would be unexpected. It wouldn’t be like his life was cut tragically short, and he’s going to die relatively soon anyway so dying from this virus really wouldn’t change much. I can’t get too worked up about it.
In fact, I’ve really enjoyed sensing the terror other people are feeling right now. It’s exhilarating to think that so much of the world is feeling this way, that there’s so much fear in so many people all at once. Plus, it usually feels like it’s just me who is worried about shit but now the tables have turned and I feel fine while lots of other people feel fucked up. It’s a nice change. And on top of that, it’s neat to think that many years in the future, this event may end up being mentioned in the same breath as the plague or Spanish flu. I love the idea that we’re potentially witnessing a historically significant event. These things don’t happen that often so we’re pretty lucky in that sense.
Yup, if you just can’t empathize with people and generally don’t value human life very much, this is actually a pretty decent time to be alive.
That’s not to say I’m 100% pleased with covid-19. I’m sick of the news talking about nothing else. I’m already tired of hearing about the coronavirus, I don’t want to be stuck reading about nothing but it for the next month or two. Blech.
Oh another thing I don’t like is how lots of people are saying melodramatic shit like, “be strong, we WILL get through this!” Of course we’ll get through it. It’s a fucking illness that is only killing old and sick people, everyone else is just getting the sniffles. Who needs to look to such heroic posturing just to make it through these days? Is staying home and entertaining yourself really that bad? Shit, man. Think of what so many other people have lived through — war, torture, famine, displacement — if they can make it through that kind of shit, I don’t want to hear people acting like this is remotely difficult. Being limited to a cozy home with running water, cupboards full of food, and myriad forms of entertainment is not a challenge. This is still heaven, and if you don’t think so, I hope that one day, you have to confront truly adverse conditions to see what suffering is and what people can get through when they have no other choice.
Now I’m going to get back to practicing paradiddles on my drum kit because that’s how I’ve been spending some of my free time right now. It’s been really nice. They sound awesome, and once I get into the groove of it the muscle memory takes over and it’s pretty zen.
Oh, unrelated but I wanted to mention that I’ve been tripping out when I dry my hair lately. The sounds I hear of the towel rubbing my head don’t seem to sync up with the actual movements. It’s really weird. I like it though, tripping out is neat.
For the first time in a long time, I’m excited about the upcoming summer. Usually I dread summer because of the heat and sun and droughts and wildfires, and I’m sure there will be lots of those things and lots of dread to go along with them, but I’ve also got some fun stuff already planned for summer that I’m really looking forward to. There’s Liam and Chantelle’s wedding, Paul and Kate’s wedding, a day trip to Port Alberni Jenn and I planned last week that will include a hike to a trestle, lunch at an old fashioned drive-in restaurant, thrift shopping (it’s great in Port Alberni), and then swimming the Hole in the Wall…
PA’s Hole in the Wall. It’s a pretty spot.
We’re also inviting friends to our place up island for our 10th wedding anniversary, which we’re doing on the same weekend as a big local event so there should be lots going on and lots of friends around which will make for a good time.
And now that our cabin up there is mostly finished, I’m excited to head north more frequently and spend more time at it, continuing to work on little things but also to just spend time relaxing and having fun, getting to know the community and area better.
I should have our travel trailer repairs done by summer too so if we have time, it would be nice to do another small road trip and check out some more places.
That’s already a bunch of fun stuff. Between all that and the usual summer fun like BBQ’s and hitting the quarry and fish ladders with friends, I feel like it’s already going to be a pretty bustling, enjoyable time.
Unless this turns out to be the year that Vancouver Island burns to a cinder, which is an ominous possibility.
crimson highway 