Many of our regular listeners and readers will recall (you WILL recall, I demand it!) that we launched a contest at the end of August designed to bring new blood into the careening mass of weirdness we call The Podcast. We asked listeners to become contributors by pitching us segment ideas. Part of the reasoning was to provide a different persepctive and also to take some of the production pressure off of Scott and me. We love what we’re doing, of course, but it’s a lot of work. So if there were people out there who were interested, we thought we’d exploit them.

And, like a bunch of fame-seeking lemmings, many of you responded.

Oh sure, some of you called us crazy. Others were happy to simply watch from the sidelines and say nothing — or so we assume, since we never actually heard from any of those people, BUT WE CAN FEEL YOU LOOKING AT US, DAMMIT!

Six groups did take the time to respond and try and sell their vision for an Unknown Studio segment. We read proposals, we listened to demo reels, we slept under fleece blankets and ate marshmallows while talking about our latest crushes… and we arrived at a decision.

We’re pleased to welcome Jonn, Matt and Simon to the Unknown Studio family as our newest show contributors. Starting with our next episode (which will feature an interview with self-published poet Kasia Gawlak who many of you know as @confessionality), the Trio of Terror will… Well, I’ll let them explain it — this is text taken directly from the pitch that sold Scott and I:

If you ask an Edmontonian about their relationship with their city, you’re likely to get a mixed response.

“It’s nice during the summer time,” one might respond.

“The River Valley looks pleasant today, but just look at the traffic on the High Level,” says another. “And why won’t anybody do anything about these potholes?”

And finally, “I hate this goddamn place, and I hope it and its inhabitants burn in the foul vestiges of hell,” says a man who will spend the rest of his life here.

But regardless of whether people love it, hate it, or are slightly irked by ETS not showing up on time causing them to be 5 minutes late for hot yoga, it would be hard for anyone to argue: this is a city. Such logic can’t be denied.

This segment will be in the vein of This American Life and will talk about the frustration, blandness, awkward situations, ennui (because let’s be honest, we have a significant hipster demographic) and occasional awesomeness that comes with living in Alberta’s capital city. It’s not that bad of a place. At least sometimes. There are interesting stories that occur in this city.

A mix of the irreverent and the serious, three former Gateway editors will go after the curious stories and quaint Edmontonia that is all around us, yet goes unacknowledged except for a brief muttering to yourself. In doing so, we will try to create an informative and captivating take on what makes our city both average and aspiring.

So there you have it, our very own version of The Edmontican Life (we won’t call it that). We’re expecting great things from these self-proclaimed carbon-based life forms. AND GREAT THINGS WE SHALL HAVE. Because it’s, like, totally in their contract.

Just kidding. Do Scott and I look like the kinds of people who know the first thing about contracts?

A huge thanks to everyone who pitched us a segment. We’ve invited all of these people to contribute at some point and really hope they take us up on the offer!

We love great content — content that focuses on the interesting stories in Edmonton that should be told to the masses. So we want you — our listeners — to help us create this content. We want YOU to produce a segment for the Unknown Studio.

As such, we’re holding a contest starting today, and ending on September 30. We want you to pitch us your segment idea. It can be hard news, comedy, skit-based, a radio play, a series of interviews — whatever you want.

Give your segment a name, a theme, a gimmick — whatever you think it will take to create something viable, entertaining and/or informative. If you can send us a quick 2-minute demo, that would be fantastic too!

The winning segment will air once per month. It should be between 5 and 10 minutes.

It must have the shelf-life of AT LEAST one season — or about 18-20 episodes. If our listeners really like it, and if we really like it, we might even keep running it, and you become a regular contributor to the Edmonton’s best talk show podcast!

You must be able to produce the segment yourself, and deliver it to us each month. Hell, we’ll even show you the tricks of the trade, if you need a little bit of training.

Send us your ideas! Show us how clever, funny and awesome you can be. And above all, show us your perspective on the City of Edmonton, its incredible citizens and its untold stories!

Email theshow@theunknownstudio.ca and pitch us your segment! And of course, if you have any questions — any at all — email us! You could be a part of the podcasting magic of the Unknown Studio’s 3rd season!

Scott and I met for lunch the other day to discuss the forthcoming season of the Unknown Studio — our third since we launched this puppy back in June 2009. Originally, we’d agreed to take a short summer hiatus. That has turned into a full-on summer vacation from our beloved podcast. There are several contributing factors to our extended absence:

• Scott is busy rehearsing for not one but two Fringe productions
• I moved into a new place with Rachel at the beginning of July, and we’ve spent much of the summer setting up
• I’m on vacation next week
• It’s summer
• Did we mention it’s summer?

I know at least one of those might seem like a lame excuse, but… well, we started this so we didn’t have to make excuses. To anyone. OK, Mom?

But fear not, frequent listener, for while we won’t be back in earnest until September, next week we’ll have a “summer special” episode of the Unknown Studio, featuring interviews with Edmonton Folk Music Festival performers, Fringe playwrights and actors, and even Lauren, the beloved hostess of Sex Talk from the Traveling Tickle Trunk.

The Unknown Studio will be back in full swing with our Season 3 Premiere the week of September 12.

We look forward to talking at you… on the INTERNETZ!

Dad has three boys, and I’m right in the middle. My eldest brother, Pieter, is a dad to an 18-month-old. Gilbert is his name. My little brother Josh hopes to be a dad one day soon too.

Dad imbued all of his children with a sense of discover and wonder, either by accident or by design. I’m sure that even he is really sure. But he’s always been a tremendous support and a loving man over the years.

Dad taught us it was OK to cry at movies. He taught us to own up to our mistakes. He taught us to be ambitious, to make our mark, and to be upbeat and positive. He taught us that good things do not come to those who wait; they come to those who get off their asses and work hard.

And he did all this by showing us how. A successful man in the twilight of his career, my dad is planning to retire soon. And I can’t wait for him to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

Dad’s had a long and storied work life. He owned a few businesses with some partners, including a gas station and a hotel in Edmonton — neither of which are around anymore. He hit a rough patch when he sold those businesses and had to work as a carpenter making cabinets for the Miseracordia Hospital expansion in the west end. It was tough for him and my mom to make ends meet during that time, but they never let us kids know they were struggling. They always tried to give us everything.

Dad pursued a career in human resources after that, mostly I think because he loved working with people. And people love working with my dad. We can’t go anywhere without him bumping into an old friend or acquaintance, and Dad always takes the time to catch up.

Dad’s taught me everything I know about being a man. And it isn’t any of that lumberjack, burly-man nonsense. It’s about being a positive force in my community, helping out friends, family and even strangers. And having a passion for people.

Thanks for making me the man I am today, Dad. Happy Fathers Day!

Yes, we’re running a bit late again this week. Due to plenty of business cropping up as we move toward the end of our season, the show will once again be delayed until some time on Friday.

But it will arrive! Fret not! You’ll be able to listen to it over the weekend, blending it seamlessly with your other weekend activities.

So hold, tight!

Many of us think about the psychological and physiological impact of cancer. But most people don’t consider the financial impact of a cancer diagnosis. So Courtney’s friends have banded together to host the first fundraiser in what will hopefully become an annual event called Courtney’s Closet.

Sylvia Forster, one of the event organizers and Courtney’s close friend explains.

“Courtney is the fashionista in our group. She has the best style, and fashion’s always been her thing. We wanted to host an event that reflected her personality, and we didn’t want it to come across as a charity — because she’s not a charity case. This is to support someone who needs a little bit of help.”

Clothing and fashion donations will be on sale on Saturday to try and raise funds to help Courtney focus on her treatments. As Sylvia explains, no one really thinks about the bills that add up when you need treatments.

“Courtney’s a single girl, and most 31-year-olds don’t have an extensive life insurance policy,” she says.

“Once the reality of the financials set in — you’re not able to work, if you’re a woman undergoing chemo, you may need to pay for fertility treatments after cancer treatments — It’s life changing and life threatening, but you don’t really think of it from a money perspective.”

This weekend at O’Byrnes, you can expect to essentially shop until you drop. Starting with a boobie-themed pancake breakfast at 8am — “anatomically correct pancakes,” as Sylvia puts it — you’ll be able to find some new clothing to fill your closet, all from donations from people close to Courtney.

There’s even something for the boys to do, if they aren’t into fashion. O’Byrnes has donated an air hockey table, and something of a tournament will be held to see who will be going home with it.

But O’Byrnes isn’t the only business getting involved.

“Famous Skate & Snowboard and Gorgeous Girls in St. Albert, and Eddies Hang Up & Display were the peeps who really helped us out,” Sylvia says. Some provided clothing donations, and even gift certificates to support Courtney’s Closet.

And while the organizers don’t have a specific financial goal in mind, Sylvia says she’s amazed by how supportive the community is.

“We’ve really kept the promotions of the event within our own social networks. We’re relying on our friends to spread it. We felt that was a little more appropriate. So far we’ve gotten a really great response. Edmonton, and the Whyte Ave community specifically is amazing and overwhelmingly supportive.”

The hope after this first event is to do an annual event, with the support of the Alberta Cancer Foundation and the Cross Cancer Institute.

“We’ve actually talked to both organizations, and we’re going to make Courtney’s Closet an annual event where people can apply to the Cross Cancer with a short essay submission explaining their situation and financial need. Then, every year when we hold the event we would pick one person from those submissions and the money raised goes to supporting them.

Courtney’s Closet takes place this Saturday, June 18th at O’Byrne’s Irish Pub from 8am to 6pm. Details are on the Facebook event page.

One of the projects that we’ve often left neglected is our poor blog. I want to be clear here – we want to have tons of content here for you to enjoy. We want to give you a reason to come here every day. We want to sit down and each write something every day.

Sadly what we want, and reality are often so far from being in the same ballpark that they’re not even playing the same game anymore.

We long ago made the decision that the podcast was our priority, and I think we made the right choice on that front. It’s a quality show that we’re very proud of, and it recently celebrated a major milestone. Essentially this means that in any given week, if we’re super busy, we’ll make time to record the show – but we don’t give the same consideration to this space.

Well, I state it here that we’re going to try and turn this ship around. I can’t promise quality content from day-to-day but you can expect more deliciously readable content on our website starting this week.

So stay tuned… or bookmarked… or whatever the hell you do on the Internet.

You see, our fair podcast turn two at the end of June. Quite a milestone, if you ask me, since neither Scott nor I were really sure where this who Unknown Studio thing was going to go. But even before our second birthday, we’re hitting another major milestone: our 50th episode.

Yes, it’s true. We’ve almost done 50 of these things over the last two years. Pretty remarkable, when you consider the fact that our dedication is often sidetracked by… oh, you know, the usual things: pies on windowsills, butterflies, unusual colours, and political arguments with strangers in grocery stores (seriously, ask me about it sometime). So at 50 eps, we’re feeling pretty good about ourselves.

And feeling good about ourselves also means doing something right for you, our fifties of listeners. We’re compiling a show for you that’s taking a heck of a lot of work from Scott and I. And that means a delay for episode 50.

But, we promise we’ll have a new episode live by Friday. Please let us know if you can’t hang in there until then. We’ll find something to occupy your time.

Scott and I have been wrangling this here podcast for almost two years now. And the results have been, to my mind, astonishing. I know we talk an awful lot about it, but we’re pretty proud of what we’ve been able to accomplish. And we’ve hit yet another milestone.

The Unknown Studio is now debt-free!

Thanks in no small part to our sponsors — The Traveling Tickle Trunk and Guru Digital Arts College — we’ve paid off hosting costs, equipment costs, music royalty costs, incorporation costs, etc. It’s a very exciting time for us. And it means we now have our very own, somewhat-portable home studio.

Since we started, we’ve been fortunate enough to have the use of a professional studio, thanks to Scott’s benevolent employers. It’s been unreal, actually. The quality of sound you hear on our show would not be possible without access to the space. But we’re quite limited as to when we can record, since they have, you know, a radio station to run.

So now we have our own recording studio that we can access at any time (and drink beer while using!) that features:

• Four EV Raven microphones
• A Shure SM58 microphone for segment recording
• Two additional microphones donated by Jeff Samsonow and Voice Print
• A beautiful Yamaha 8-channel mixer
• A Zoom H4n MP3/WAV recorder

Your favourite local podcast continues to grow. We’ve become more ambitious, more ballsy, and more awesome over the last two years. And as we approach two huge milestones — our second birthday and our 50th episode — we’ve also become more self-centred and more self-impressed, but I honestly think it’s just a phase. For Scott.

Thanks to our wonderful sponsors, as we mentioned. To the Edmonton Journal for continuing to pimp our brand. To our guests for agreeing to suffer our company for as many as two hours at a time. And especially to our listeners for always supporting us.

Please comment, email us, and let us know how we’re doing, good and bad. We want to become YOUR source for hilarious Edmonton happenings. And next on our list of conquests: Calgary!

I’ve been blessed with unusual success in my life. Some of it has to do with luck. Some of it is because my parents (and let’s face it, my brothers too) knew when to crack the whip, and when to let me screw up. Some of it is because I’ve had outstanding mentors to guide me.

But most of it is because I’ve worked my butt off to create things, and ensure their longevity. I don’t believe good things come to those who wait. Good things come to those who work, and that means sacrifice, long nights, and occasionally tears.

If you’re sitting on your ass waiting for success to find you, you’re being lazy. You go out and you find success.

In some ways, I’ve made this success look easy — almost like I fell ass-backwards into it. But that’s not even close to true.

One of the most interesting, exciting and worthwhile things I’ve ever done in my life was to have lunch with Wanye Gretz in 2007. I’ve known Wanye since we were about seven years old. We’ve gone to school together our whole lives and generally stayed in touch and good standing with one another. Our meeting in 2007 wasn’t about anything in particular, except the directions our lives were taking.

We’d have more conversations over the next few months, many of which centered around Oilers hockey and the way they were covered in this town. Ultimately, our dissatisfaction with the conversation taking place gave rise to OilersNation.com, and its sister sites, now all part of the Nation Network.

Wanye, myself, the writers at the Nation and our financial backers all worked hard to develop a product that gave fans a relevant and irreverent forum to discuss our beloved teams and all things hockey.

OilersNation.com launched in Novermber of 2007, while I, Wanye and some other colleagues worked out of the offices of a mechanic on another business project. The afternoon we launched, Wanye and I giggled stupidly at the ridiculous images we posted, the silly content that was there, and the fact that we’d actually manage to create something on teh internetz.

It was the beginning of a new career path for me, one that’s led me to work at one of the best creative advertising agencies in Western Canada, Calder Bateman.

And even though OilersNation set me on this path — working in advertising and PR through the online world — I also know that I’ve done all I can for OilersNation, and it’s time for me to move on and continue to grow and excel in my field. It was a tough decision.

But this morning, I sold my ownership stake in OilersNation.com Ltd.

I’ll stay on with the company as an advisor and social media strategist. I’ll always be a founder, and I could never fully walk away from my creation. But I’m no longer involved in the day-to-day aspects of managing the site — unless some commenter gets out of control and I have to wield the ban-hammer.

OilersNation helped me get where I am today. It showed me I could be an entrepreneur, it allowed me to use my skills as a writer, an editor and a journalist, and it has enabled me to build a tremendous network of friends and colleagues within and outside of Edmonton.

To Wanye: thanks for having the patience to guide me when it was needed, and the mentorship know-how to let me fall down and get up on my own.

To Tim Hanas, president of Ignition Media: you gave me my start in the agency world, and I wouldn’t be where I am today if you hadn’t taken that chance. Thank you so much for the opportunity.

To Willis, Brownlee, Gregor, Lowetide, Amber, and all the writers at the other Nation sites: thank you for ensuring my life these past 3.5 years was never dull — and full of hilarious commentary and interesting, outstanding content. And thanks especially to Brownlee and Gregor, for giving me and all Nationeers glimpses into your lives.

To the members of the OilersNation community: you’re the reason this site has been such a success. Your comments, your Photoshop jobs, and even your FISTS have always put a smile on my face. Don’t ever stop.

To my close friends and family, and to all of the wonderful people I’ve met online and offline: I’m still here, I’m still working to build the Unknown Studio, to support my fellow members of the League of Extraordinary Media, and to really put Edmonton on the map as a place where people of all ages can achieve success and build something meaningful that enriches their community.

I called this the end of an era on Twitter this morning. But I like to look at it as the beginning of a new one.

To be continued. Constantly.

This episode, our guest Felicia shares dating tips, and some key information about just how you should behave and dress for that important first date.

Here’s the show breakdown:

0:00: Intro: “Nice tits”
1:00: Part 1 of our interview with Felicia Dewar, founder of TheSingleGirl.ca
12:03: Adam Unleashed: On V-day
15:06: A contest you should enter
17:13: Part 2 of our interview with Felicia Dewar
38:44: Sex Talk with Lauren from the Traveling Tickle Trunk
40:22: A Dramatic Back to the Future Reading with Scott C. Bourgeois
43:24: Part 3 of our interview with Felicia Dewar
1:02:30: The Fast 15 with Felicia Dewar

The Unknown Studio is a proud member of the League of Extraordinary Media.

=====================================================
EDMONTON JOURNAL STILL SPONSORS THE UNKNOWN STUDIO
=====================================================
We’re helping EJ to promote their new iPad app. If you have any comments about the new app, let us know and we’ll pass it along!
=====================================================

That’s not entirely true, of course. But Scott and I, being the ridiculously good-looking and busy men that we are, will not have a podcast out today. As we gather interviews for our post-Edmonton-election wrap-up show, we want to get it right. And we want it to be interesting.

So we’ll release our next episode tomorrow.

Sorry for the delay. We know you’ve really been looking forward to this!

We’d like to borrow a page from the book of Nate Box, who only opened his elm café when he was satisfied that it was ready. We demand the exact same satisfaction on your behalf, fifties of listeners/readers.

When we’re ready with the new episode later on this week, there will be much fanfare. In the meantime, cozy up to a few outtakes from the Back to the Future movies:

Doctor Emmett Brown conceived of a method of time travel when he hit his head on a toilet bowl while trying to hang a clock in his washroom. The Unknown Studio’s genesis is no less riveting, but it really involves drinking beer from a toilet, not bumping one’s head on it.

But we’ve discussed the past all week long. What of this triumphant future we continually espouse? A few things:

• This website was only the start — or rather, the natural progression of the Unknown Studio. We have plans to create some pretty cool video with the help of our friends at LEM.
• Since YEGSwap was such a rousing success, we’re looking at doing more events this year. Perhaps even all regular-like.
• The show itself will change — this we’ve already mentioned. But it will still focus on the goings-on in Edmonton.
• I will continue to swear, because I enjoy the sound of curse words (which means some of our listeners will need to put the kids to bed before tuning in).
• Thanks to the sponsorship dollars we have coming in (we LOVE Guru Digital Arts College and Traveling Tickle Trunk for their support and love), we’ll be able to do more timely, diverse things with the show.
• No one shot JR; it was all a dream.

One of the major points of beginning this podcast was to help citizens of Edmonton shed the notion that there isn’t anything interesting taking place in this city. And while I’m the first to admit that sometimes I feel bored, there are resources out there to help you make the most of Edmonton. This is one of them. So is theEdmontonian.com and TrueBritl.com. Mack Male created ShareEdmonton to show that very thing.

Two years ago, I was hell bent on leaving this place. Despite the fact that I was born and raised here, I didn’t feel like I had a personal stake in the city. This show has changed all that. There are thousands of cool people and cool things happening in old Why Ee Gee all the time.

The future? The future is about sharing that with you all. I hope you’ll continue to count yourselves among our 50s of listeners and readers. This city may not have been built on rock n’ roll, but there’s enough rockers and rollers here that the fortunes of Edmonton have taken a turn and will continue to take a turn for the better. And we want to be part of those fortunes.

Yes, friends, today marks our official first birthday. The Unknown Studio turns one today — sometime later this afternoon to be precisely. And though we’ve already done a bit of a summary of the last year, using data from the ever-popular Fast Fifteen, I thought I’d get into a few more details about the show’s successes.

As we’ve explained before, this whole concept started at a tweet-up. It was all downhill from there. We started the show using the LibSyn podcasting service — which served us very well for a time… But eventually we wanted to host everything ourselves, with our own website, theme and all. That’s what you’re looking at right now.

But the consistent piece throughout our one-year history has always been the podcast. And while we started out our first six or so episodes with an average per-episode download rate of about 150, we’ve since grown…

We’re up to an average per-episode download rate of 544. We’ve gone from tens of listeners to fifties of listeners.

A lovely birthday card from our friends at theEdmontonian.com

And just so that our guests can gloat amongst themselves, these are the top-five, most-downloaded episodes, starting with most downloaded.

1. Ken Bautista: 1,333 downloads
2. Mack Male: 1,050 downloads
3. Cary Williams: 767 downloads
4. Nate Box: 739 downloads
5. State of the Podcast (Adam & Scott): 681

It’s been a hell of a year, going from tens to fifties of listeners. I don’t think Scott and I ever set any formal benchmarks for success… Mostly because we didn’t really know what would actually make a good benchmark. Given that our show’s content is focused on Edmontonians and things taking place here in the city, I think we’ve been damned successful.

Especially given the fact that our fifth most downloaded episode occurred as a result of a guest fully jamming out on us. Which was fine in the end — it turns out Scott and I can handle a whole show on our own… And that sort of brings us to the future of the show.

But we’ll leave that for our last installment, which we’ll be publishing tomorrow.

For now, there are a few individuals we need to thank for helping us out along the way. We absolutely could not have done this without: Rachel, Anita, Jeff & Sally, Brittney, Ramin & Cory, Craig, Dave, Adam, Karen, Marty, Brenda, Owen, our wonderful listeners, our wonderful guests, the City of Edmonton (in particular, their communications and traffic departments), 630 CHED and iNews880.

And in our forthcoming episode, S02E01, we’ll answer a recent question that’s been asked of us: “Who has been your favourite guest this season?” among other queries.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THE UNKNOWN STUDIO!

In our first installment of our TUS retrospective, we gave you some very deep and thoughtful pie charts that detail the splits in responses to some of our Fast Fifteen questions. Some questions, however, yield such unusual results that they simply defy the concept of pie charts.

These are their stories.

Tell me more, like, does he have a car?

About halfway through the season, it became clear that the question “What was your least proud moment?” wasn’t a terribly popular one. I think it’s because people’s least proud moments typically involve extreme weakness, poor judgment and even vomit. Sometimes, least proud moments involve all three of these things. We weren’t getting good answers out of people, so we ditched the question.

I replaced it with “What was your first vehicle?” I expected most people who get really cheeky as respond with, “A tricycle,” but most of the answers are based around motor vehicles, save for Peter Daly’s — he counts his bicycle as his first vehicle.

Other interesting responses to this question include…

• Sally Poulsen, TheEdmontonian.com: “A 1979 Dodge Aspen named Sweet Miss Pickles.”
• Cary Williams, Man About Town: “A Chevy Sprint, 2-seater convertible in turquoise blue.”

And my personal favourite response, from our own Scott C Bourgeois:

• “A teal-green Pontiac Cutlass Supreme, called Guzzy.”

‘Mmmmm… 64 slices of American Cheese’

Our guests also enjoy a vast array of different kinds of foods. And while diversity is the key, it seems most of our guests favourite Italian food… Lots of “pasta”-like responses on the “Favourite food” question (2 spaghettis, 1 lasagna, and 2 pastas — I got very specific and mentioned the Manor Pasta from the Manor Bistro).

Some of the more unique answers included:

• A dish that Ramin mentioned, but whose spelling I have no idea about… Ram, perhaps you can comment?
• Butter Chicken… not terribly unique, but cool that Don Iveson would pick such a yummy dish.
• Wine gums… Not technically “food,” I don’t think. But Dave Cournoyer‘s fave.
• And perhaps the most specific answer we got was from David Berry: he likes the Tofu Clubhouse from Café Mosaics.

Movies, movies everywhere!

Finally, we have our movies categories. Scott and I are huge movie buffs, so the Fast Fifteen was replete with questions about film. However, we found over the course of the season that there are just some people who don’t share our enthusiasm for the oeuvre, so we’ll be changing up the question list for our new season.

Anyway, I’m least interested in people’s favourite movies, and want to know their Secret Shame movies. You know, movies they hate to admit they like because they’re just SO TERRIBLE. Here are some of the more hilarious ones:

• Waterworld (Don Iveson)
• Godfather III (Ramin Ostad)
• A Walk To Remember (Brent Jans)
• Can’t Hardly Wait (Rob Fishbook)
• Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (Ken Bautista)
• Titanic (Tom Ohle)

Yup… We have a diverse range of guests with a diverse range of tastes!

Tomorrow, we’ll take a look at how much the show’s grown over year. A hint: it’s exceed both Scott’s and my expectations.

Into the second episode of the podcast, which was a long discussion about the city with councilor Don Iveson, Scott and I were already trying to think of ways to mix things up — to change the slow in small ways to make it much more interesting. At the beginning of Don’s interview I started scribbling into my notebook a series of really simple and fast questions we could ask Don to cap off the interview. I came up with the name Fast Fifteen, as the intention is for our guests to more or less blast through the list.

This almost never happens.

But the Fast Fifteen generates some pretty interesting discussions, answers and comments. Below are a few charts displaying how people have answered over the course of the season. I couldn’t get the “Favourite Colour” chart to match up colours to words, so forgive me if it looks really dumb. In fact, let’s start with that one…

A season of colour

Overwhelmingly, our guests love blue

You see that green section of the chart? That shows people who like the colour blue. Super intuitive, I know. blue and green were the top two this season. And only one person (Duncan Woytaszek from our Post-Partisan episode) likes the colour yellow.

A season of pets

One Fast Fifteen question we always ask of our guests is whether they prefer dogs or cats. Everyone has state a preference for one, the other, or both. But no one has ever said “neither,” which I thought was kind of interesting. Still, a majority of people prefer canines to felines:

Dog people. I guess they love mouth-breathing and drool

A season of computers

I’m sad to say it, but it seems most of our guests are PC users. Apple may be ubiquitous in the mobile phone markets, but they still have some work to do when it comes to personal computing… (Also, somewhat related, I’m glad they have Steam for Mac now. But I’m sad my little laptop isn’t powerful enough to run the games.)

It’s worth noting that none of our guests use Linux. But at least one guest prefers not to use a computer at all:

Jon Hodgman would be pleased

A season of holidays

The “What’s your favourite holiday question” is an interesting one. Some people interpret “holiday” as meaning favourite statutory holiday (in this case, we’re including birthdays), while others think I’m asking what they’re favourite vacation destination is. There’s no right answer, of course, so I never correct anyone, but it’s interesting how different people answer.

This season, four people shared their favourite destinations with us (India, Canmore, New Caledonia and England), but the chart below shows people’s favourite statutory holidays:

Christmas is about giving. And receiving. Oh yes. Receiving.

A season of sports

Finally, we come to sports. Not surprisingly, hockey is the overwhelming favourite sport among our guests, but there are some other interesting ones in there as well, including Rugby and Volleyball.

What really surprised me, though, is that no one said Baseball. Poor, poor Edmonton Capitals.

Oh, and at least one guest was a big fan of Quidditch.

In spite of a loser hockey team, our guests still love hockey

What’s next?

Clearly, these charts don’t depict the fifteen questions we ask of all our guests. Some of the responses are just too weird or diverse to place into a meaningful chart. So tomorrow we’ll have a post up discussing some of the funnier answers to questions, including movies people hate, and the first vehicles people were forced to drive. Stay tuned, as we celebrate our first birthday here at the Unknown Studio!

And note: if you have any questions for us about the show, or really anything, please fill out the Formspring form in the right nav. Who knows, we may even answer your questions on the air! Wouldn’t that be exciting?

Thanks to a tip from listener and Unknown Studio girlfriend (mine!) Rachel, we asked Brenda Kerber from The Traveling Tickle Trunk if she was willing to be on the show to talk about sex toys and the sex parties she helps organize. The show was great (you can listen to it here), and we started talking back then about maybe embarking upon a sponsorship arrangement.

I’m pleased to announce that, after some discussions, back-room negotiations, and fights to the death, the Unknown Studio has a new sponsor in one of Edmonton’s truly great, community-building businesses: Brenda Kerber’s Traveling Tickle Trunk!

When Scott and I decided to looks for sponsors, we really wanted to engage in partnerships with local businesses. We didn’t want to just exchange money so we could post an add on our site. We’re trying to work with companies to develop our individuals brands together. Our sponsorship agreement with Traveling Tickle Trunk, Guru Digital Arts and the Edmonton Journal are helping us to do just that.

Brenda Kerber, owner of the Traveling Tickle Trunk (from theEdmontonian.com)

As some of you will know, we’re changing up the format of the show (more on that in the coming weeks). And part of that will mean a monthly segment from Brenda, as she talks about sex toy trends, sexual health issues, and really whatever strikes her fancy. We’ll also be running some contests with the Traveling Tickle Trunk — so make sure you subscribe to our eNewsletter for the latest and greatest on that!

Stay tuned to the show and the site for more information about our new partnership with a truly great Edmonton business!

When it comes to the show, it’s no different. Scott and I spend a lot of time zoomed in on the specifics of what we’re doing — booking guests, recording and editing audio, coming up with content for the website — that we often forget to pause, step back, and take a look at where we’ve arrived. They have cliches that describe this — about forests and trees, and smelly roses. But we’re much too high-brow to invoke such phrases.

Still, I’d like to pause, if you’ll indulge me, and take a look and where we’ve arrived. If I get too self-flagellating, please feel free to take me down a peg in the comments.

You see, the Unknown Studio — the flagship of what we do, the podcast — is coming up on its first birthday. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this is an exceedingly big deal to us. And hopefully to our listeners as well. Here’s a bit of a year in review for you:

• At some tweet-up in April or May 2009: Scott and I met, became reacquainted, and mused over the idea of creating a hyperlocal podcast.
• At some point at the beginning of June 2009: Scott and I met, this time to discuss, exclusively, the podcast. We started to plan things. We even enlisted the help of Daryl Hooke to come up with a show name, something I’m not sure we ever fully gave him credit for (thanks so much for naming us, Daryl!)
• June 23, 2009: We published our first show, with guest Brittney Le Blanc.
• July 6, 2009: We randomly introduced the Fast Fifteen into the [second ever!] show.
• November 2009: With the help of the wonderful, brilliant and beautiful Sally Poulsen, we launched the knew website… you’re lookin’ at it. And thanks to a young man named Eldon, we also got an official-looking logo!
• December 2009: We got our first sponsor! The Edmonton Journal!
  Also, a guy named Baxx asked if he can rebroadcast episodes of the show on his pirate radio station. We obliged. Baxx eventually got shut down by Industry Canada.
• January 2010: Scott and I spoke at the CUP National Conference… We were excited to be recognized as at least competent in our craft.
• February 2010: Along with TheEdmontonian.com, TrueBritl.com and UserCreatedContent.ca, we founded the League of Extraordinary Media (LXM).
• March 20, 2010: Along with fellow LXM members, we hosted our first ever event: YEGSwap.
• April 2010: We scored our second sponsor, Guru Digital Arts College — the start of a beautiful friendship, and the very beginnings of the construction of our own studio.
• June 8, 2010: We hosted a very successful ALEx II along with Daveberta.ca and the LXM.

So what does the future hold for the Unknown Studio? Well, we celebrate our birthday at the end of the month and we have exciting plans for Episode 27 at the end of June — which will feature a return appearance from Brittney Le Blanc, who’s rather sore at us that she’s the only Unknown Studio guest who’s never done a Fast Fifteen (that still doesn’t sound right).

You’re going to want to tune into that episode, as we’ll have some very awesome content and some exciting news to share with you.

Also, later on this summer, we’ll be having a proper birthday party — with cake and all! — alongside our lovely colleagues at TheEdmontonian.com, who are coming up on their first birthday as well.

To friends, listeners and naysayers alike, thank you so much for your support/constructive criticism over the last year. It’s shocking we’ve been able to do so much… and that we plan to do so much more.

Oh! If you want to get more “meta updates” from the Unknown Studio, make sure to subscribe to our newsletter! I personally promise that unless something incredibly rad is going down, we’ll only send your one newsletter per month. Deal? Deal.

But I’m really sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner. I hope I didn’t ruin your weekend.

Now let’s get this bizarre show on the road!

For every action…

Today, I thought it would be funny to put peanut butter in my roommate’s ears. He thought it would be funny to shave off my eyebrows later while I was sleeping. FML

Were you born yesterday? Because it sounds like you were.

The pranking world is a complicated one. And by complicated, I mean dead simple. It’s a tit for tat world out there, and you can’t expect to jam peanut butter into someone’s ears and walk away to carry on about your life.

So, sure, you can squeal about how fucked your life is… or you can paint some eyebrows on your face get out there and BE SOMEBODY.

Importance of home inspections

Today, I discovered the house my family and I just moved into is infested with termites. FML

When you “just move into” a house, I like to think you’ve done some research. You know whether or not it faces north or south, you know how bright some of the rooms are… and you know if insects are going out of their way to fully decimate the substructure of your home.

Before you move in, as a general rule, you’re meant to conduct a move-in inspection. A proper, detailed one. Hell, I think you’re supposed to do that even before you BUY the house.

What I’m getting at is that I have exactly no sympathy for you. Your life may be fucked, but you, sir, deserve it for not doing the whole due diligence thing.

The importance of being honest

Today, I heard my roommate complaining about me not cleaning the bathtub after I shower. What I can’t tell her is that I haven’t taken a shower in 2 days because I’ve been swamped with schoolwork and that the filth in the tub is her own. FML

Time to nut up or shut up. Why can’t you tell her she’s filthy? Is it because you don’t shower for two days at a time, and then shed a layer of dirt into the tub? Moron.

I think there’s a distinct possibility she wasn’t just talking about the filthy tub over the last few days. I’ll assume there’s a fairly good chance she’s talking about it now because it’s been ongoing. Sure, she makes the tub dirty, but you don’t shower for days at a time. You wallow in your own filth while you study.

You need to clean the bathtub.

As shattering as this will likely prove to be to my precious ego, I’ve decided to give it a shot.

Those of you in the know will understand what comes next:

EAVB_UKIKOFZXJK

So if you happen along Empire Avenue in the near future, be sure to buy some stock in your favourite local dudes.

Also look for The Unknown Studio to start trading it’s value on that site in the near future.

And while the work I’ve started on is tremendously compelling, I wanted to brag a bit about my office. Mostly because, since I’ve been out of school, I’ve never had my own office.

I’ve sat in large, open rooms, cubicles, the oil-soaked, shag-carpet-festooned back office of a garage… I’ve even worked jobs where there WAS no office. I had to work OUTSIDE. IN THE SUNSHINE. Can you believe that?

Anyhow, some of my friends were curious to see my new office (featuring a door!) so this weekend when I was in doing a few work-y things, I snapped a few images of my office, and some of the decorations adorning it. Enjoy the nerdfest!

So we printed off these important documents and sealed them in envelopes that were not to be opened unless one (or both) of us fell victim to a large, errant semi-truck.

Lately, my mode of thinking on the Unknown Studio has been similar. What if something occurred to either Scott or myself that made it so that recording from our various locations became untenable. What then?

You see, we’ve gotten used to a certain level of “quality” when it comes to recording the show (I put quality in quotes because I’m certain the balance of you will snarkily disagree). But right now, we’re a little hamstrung as to when we’re able to record. And I would love nothing more than to open a case of beer, sit down with a guest and kibitz until the sun goes down, no matter what day it is. We don’t currently have that luxury — even though I am tremendously grateful that we’re allowed to use the incredible professional facilities we currently use.

And guess what? Studio equipment is EXPENSIVE (duh, I know, right?), particularly if you want to do it right. And neither Scott nor myself are wealthy. We make decent money; it allows us to occasionally get together and drink beer. But not drop a couple grand on some new kit.

I was recently whinging about the Unknown Studio’s inability to realize the home-studio dream… And I was doing this rather loudly to my delicious and delightful colleagues in the League of Extraordinary Media. Sally heard me, and obviously wanted to shut me up, because she mentioned the fact that the Unknown Studio was looking for a sponsor to the cats who run Guru Digital Arts College.

Effective more or less right the hell now, Guru Digital Arts College is the de facto title sponsor of the Unknown Studio. Their generous support will allow Scott and I to build a state-of-the-art home studio, which will allow us to be extremely flexible in the creation of the show.

You can read Headmaster Owen Brierley’s own take on this awesome partnership at the Guru Blog.

In the meantime, we hope to continue providing Edmontonians and Albertans with compelling content, engaging conversations, and a filled-to-the-brim swear jar — soon coming to you almost live from our very own home studio.

Thanks to everyone for listening and reading, and thanks especially to our new partners at Guru Digital Arts College, whose support will ensure the Unknown Studio’s longevity for likely much longer than anyone out there is reasonably comfortable with.

Adam Rozenhart
TUS producer, co-host and webmaster

Well… that’s a full-time job that’s been getting harder and harder. You may have noticed that in recent episodes a few superfluous F-Bombs managed to evade my skillful editing. I do try and remain vigilant, but it’s almost like Adam has been actively sneaking more and more cursing into each episode just to keep me on my toes. In fact – I know that’s what he’s doing.

So it’s time to make him pay.

Literally.

As of the forthcoming Episode 21, The Unknown Studio will no longer be censored. Adam is now free to rattle of long litanies of profanity that would make a sailor blush. And every time he unleashes such a blistering obscenity he’s going to be plunking a shiny dollar into the swear jar.

Yes, we’ve always been a little lenient on the easier swears. Something has to be particularly foul before it merits a dollar value. Rest assured, though, that Adam is more than capable of reaching into the stratosphere of indecency at regular intervals.

So, for the record, we’ll be abiding by rules set down by a master of ribald language, the late George Carlin. His seven dirty words you can’t say on television; Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, seem like a good barometer.

And don’t go thinking that we’re going to be spending that swear jar capital on us. Oh no, once the jar is full, we’ll be donating the whole shebang to charity.

Granted, we haven’t decided which charity. But the swear jar is still empty – so there’s still plenty of time to figure that out. If you have any ideas, feel free to share.

In the meantime – brace yourselves. Adam and Scott are uncensored.

It’s been a while – too long, really – since I’ve put finger-to-key and typed up a new entry for the blog. I have no one to blame (other than BioWare), and can only say that I will try and make sure we don’t have too many long stretches like this past one.

I have a few things on the go, such as a new entry for The Character Assassin and another Watch This! feature, but today I wanted to do something quick and light to remind you that yes, I do, in fact, still contribute.

I’d like to introduce you to the girl I took out for a spin the other day.

This is Blue.

Or at least a car that looks exactly like her.

She’s my sexy ride. A sleek, four door 2008 Pontiac G6. And she’s a dirty, dirty girl.

Or at least, she was. The warm winter weather has taken it’s toll and she has been filthy for… well months really. I kept putting off washing her because it was too cold, or too wet.

Well no more. I rolled her out of the garage and gave her the vehicular equivalent of a spa-day. Full oil-change (synthetic – nothing but the best for my girl), air filter replaced, fluids checked and topped off, tire pressure gauged… and a soothing drive through the car wash.

Where am I going with this?

If you’re like me, your car is your link to the rest of the world. Blue gets me places. She’s what gets me to work on time, makes sure I’m prompt for my appointments, and gives me the ability to quickly travel six blocks to the nearest 7-Eleven.

She’s more than just my car – she’s my freedom.

I am ashamed to admit that it took me forever to get my driver’s license. I was in my twenties when I finally got up the nerve to do it. Oh, I’d had my learners for some time… I just never took the next step.

Part of it was intimidation. I was actually a little afraid to get behind the wheel and hit the road. It wasn’t the car that scared me, or my lack of ability… it was other drivers I was worried about. I have no control over how other people drive – and I didn’t trust that they would drive responsibly.

But the other part – the main part – was that I’d always gotten by just fine. I didn’t need my license because whenever I had to get somewhere, there was an alternative. Taking a cab or a bus, getting a lift from a friend or a family member… I didn’t think I needed my own car.

I was wrong.

When I finally went and did it… the whole world opened up. Suddenly I could go out, wherever I wanted, at my whim. I was no longer beholden to bus routes or the timetables of others. I experienced that true freedom for the first time.

If you are like I was, hesitant to get your license because you don’t think you need it – you’re wrong too.

You might not know it yet, but you’ve limited yourself in a fundamental way. Sure, for most cosmopolitan city-folk, there are options that will get to you all the places you need to go. But the face remain that there are places in this city where it’s hard to get if you don’t have a car. Moreover, what if you need to get into St. Albert? Or Leduc? Or Calgary? Tomorrow?

Blue gives me the ability to do that. She gives me the power to, at 3 in the morning, say “I feel like getting donuts. In Red Deer.” And away I go.

The least I can do is tune her up, and keep her clean.

So, yeah. That’s the point I’m driving at: get your car an oil change and a wash.

Next Time: Super Mario Bros.

From my perspective, it started with the Reboot Albert discussion, manned by progressive conservatives like Ken Chapman and Chris LaBossiere. Variously disenfranchised with Alberta’s current political mix — particularly in light of Bill 44 — these guys formed part of the movement towards a post-partisan dialogue, founded on the agreement that the party system is far more than simply imperfect: it’s broken, and doesn’t engage citizens anymore.

So they sought to open a dialogue with like-minded progressives. Big “C” Conservatives would have you believe this is nothing more than a bunch of liberals getting together to whinge about politics in Alberta. They’re wrongfully dismissive of something that I believe will become a significant political movement.

That last phrase — “significant political movement” — is why I’ve decided that I will go to Reboot Alberta 2.0 this weekend (26–28 Feb) in Kananaskis.

I’m going into the event with zero expectations of an outcome. I’m trying to keep my mind open to discussion from every corner of the province, from people whose views I do and do not share. And the reason for this is simple: I’m tired of the rhetoric, I’m tired of the naysaying, I’m tired of being one of the people who feels roughed into this arbitrary political construct that doesn’t work for me anymore — that maybe never worked for me.

And I look at it this way: either I can sit idly by and let these discussions take place without me, I can scoff and criticize and speculate about the successes or failures of this new movement. Or I can get off the pot, get over myself, and find a way to contribute to the future of politics in Alberta.

That’s the choice I’ve made. And I’m excited about it.

But, I intended to get things in order this week, and actually have two articles on the go – the intention having been to get them online this week and begin contributing again.

Then Mass Effect 2 came out.

Suffice to say, Mass Effect 2 is an amazing game, and one that I may actually write a proper review of at some point in the very near future. But I can’t right now. Because right now, it owns me.

So bear with me, gentle reader. I will be back soon, in all my splendour, and richer for the experience. But until that day – likely sometime this weekend – I ask that you shed no tears for me. The sacrifices I make, are for you.

To the Terminus Systems, Joker, full speed!

In all seriousness, I’ll get back to blogging shortly, and Mass Effect 2 is my excuse.

I don’t have an excuse for why Adam’s been so quiet. Usually he’s quite the attention whore.

Scott and I have a lot planned for 2010, so hold on tight and enjoy the show, the site and your life here in Edmonton.

This week, I’ll be posting my favourite albums from the last decade (one album for each year!), we’ll see the return of FML Friday, and we’ll have plenty of interesting stories, links and photos to share from the holidays.

Welcome to 2010, twenties of readers!

The Other Half

For those of you who aren’t aware, I have an important engagement. Specifically an engagement to be wed. This engagement was arranged mid-way through this past year and we both knew it was a longtime coming. But, as much as I expected things would carry on as they had, that wasn’t the case. Things changed. In most cases for the better, in some cases for the worse, but overall it’s been an exciting change that has started to steer my life away from much of the… well, immaturity that’s plagued my mid-twenties.

Anita has been at the heart of my life for almost 6 years now, and I can’t imagine what things would be like without her. Whether it be tempering my nerdy impulses (“Do you really need to own a replica He-Man sword?”), or encouraging my more responsible nature (“Yes, you should go to be now if you need to wake up at 3 in the morning.”), Anita’s been nothing but a positive influence on me. She’s been changing me, yes, but for the better.

Plus, we bought a house together – imagine, me, Scott C Bourgeois, home owner. Yeah, that’s pretty wild. I’ve also been living with Anita for a full year now, and surprisingly we’ve not killed each other. Now, I can’t speak for her, but for me, living with Anita hasn’t been a chore. It’s been a treat. I relish every minute of it, and I look forward to every day.

Anita has been a huge influence on my life in the past few years – but this last year was the year we decided to make things official. She’s been forcing me to grow up and actually be an adult – at least for the most part – and for that, my partnership with her has been a hugely important part of the past year.

Love you honey!

The Unknown Studio

If Anita is the first important partnership that influenced my year, then it goes without saying that Adam is the second. A random re-acquaintance that has turned into a valuable business partnership… and an equally valuable friendship.

I really didn’t expect that I would end up hooking back up Adam, whom I honestly didn’t know that well prior to this year. We’d very rarely spoken when he was EiC at The Gateway, and I wouldn’t have exactly called him my friend. Imagine my surprise when we hit it off at a #yeg tweetup, and began working on a project together.

I cannot overstate the impact that Adam and The Unknown Studio have had on my life these past few months. It’s given me the chance to hone my craft, to meet new people and to get involved again. Suddenly, new opportunities were opening up for me… and more importantly I was motivated to grasp at them.

Would I have had the motivation to start blogging again without Adam? Probably not. Would I have put together a podcast on my own, one half as successful as this one? No, can’t say I would have. Would I have met all of the interesting people that I have because of the podcast? Definitely not.

This is entirely the doing of Adam Rozenhart, and I can’t thank him enough for providing me with that inspiration – and, more importantly, for sharing his friendship with me.

In Conclusion of a Decade

So here’s to 2009 – the year of Anita and Adam. May our fortunes continue to be intertwined, and may we continue to share our successes!

That’s it for me for the year, folks. Happy New Year, and see you all in 2010.

And you know what, everyone? It went better than I could have imagined.

We had a total of 12 reviews posted on iTunes, all of them rather complimentary. I’ve copied a few directly below and even responded to them. That, children, is the beauty of social media. Interaction. Something our Premier and his communication team have yet to learn.

I’m very pleased to announce that the winner of the “Say whatever you want about the Unknown Studio on iTunes, but we’d really prefer if you were nice… and oh, please give us a minimum of four stars” is…

Chartreusian, one of our listeners from the #yeg Twitter community!

Congratulations and thanks to everyone who entered. Now I have to find a way to get this fellow his winnings.

What you think…

It’s obvious that Scott and I have created something that resonates with people, which is particularly amazing given that I failed the section on resonance in high-school physics. Actually, I failed all of physics in high school. Which brings me to our lesson for today: you don’t need physics to create a podcast with twenties of listeners.

That’s right, I’m declaring right here and right now that there are twenties of you.

Below are a few of my favourite reviews (in italics) and my responses to them (in normal).

From “smiley80″: Adam and Scott are both sharp, mentally and witt-ily… Love the analysis and the humourous take on whatever topic it is that they’re gabbing about. The episode about the current state of newspapers and whether they will survive was especially good… just wish there was a written transcript available too, it’d be easier to share especially interesting bits with friends.

You know something, smiley80 — can I call you smiles? — we’ve never even thought of writing a transcript of the show. And honestly, now that I think about it, it’s probably the last thing I want to do… even if it is a tremendous idea (and it actually really is).

I’m a very lazy man, you will come to know, smiles. Lazy and sexy. A powerful combination when it comes to co-hosting a show, but not so much for then listening to that show and typing out what everyone said.

I will tell you this, smiles: the moment we have the money, we will hire someone to type as the show takes place. That way you can see all the outtakes — and they are plentiful my friends, mark my words. MARK THEM!

From “Phendrana”: Scott and Adam capture the spirit of Edmonton with a diverse list of topics and guests. Their conscious attempt to make the city a better place with their podcast is a beacon of hope and [they] offer a genuine and entertaining episode each and every week.

Before I comment, I should state that Phendrana was a guest on our show. You know him as Duncan. In spite of that, I really like the man. He’s sharp, hilarious and I agree with all of his opinions.

Except the one listed above. Phendrana says we make a “conscious attempt to make the city a better place [...]“, which is a kindly thing to say, but certainly far from the truth. You see, we didn’t do this consciously. I don’t even think we did it sub-consciously. If there’s a kind of consciousness that’s defined by narcissism and a desire to make piles of money, then Phendrana hit the nail on the head.

So let’s replace “conscious” with our new definition: Their narcisstic tendencies and desire to be filthy stinking rich with their podcast is a beacon of hope… I know that doesn’t sound better. But for my part, it’s way more accurate.

Finally, from our winner “Chartreusian”: conversational – without being stupid. informative – without sounding dry. entertaining – without acting like the morning drive DJ. The podcast takes on relevant issues and guests that don’t always get this kind of independent coverage. A good way to get a sense of what Edmonton is really about.

I think you can all see why this one is the winner. If you can’t see why, I’ll explain it: I listed everyone on a paper, then asked Scott to pick a number between 1 and 12. He picked 4. So Chartreusian won.

Chartreusian is right, though: our show is a good way to get a sense of what Edmonton is really about. And with thirteen episodes under our belts, Edmonton is about the following:

• Social media
• Smart growth
• Videogames & great storytelling
• How to ruin massively multiplayer games
• One-act plays and zombies
• Strange, creepy insects
• Pro hockey
• Science fiction
• Post-partisanism
• Haunted buildings
• Hyperlocal websites
• 18 to 40-year-olds
• The Future of Newspapers

This was actually going to be the point at which I was going to poke fun at Chartreusian even more for making the statement he did. But you know what? Edmonton IS such a wonderful, interesting city with a diverse cross-section of splendid and worthwhile people. And I’m very proud to say that the Unknown Studio is a reflection of that, certainly judging by the list directly above.

Thanks again to everyone who wrote a review of us. We love you, and we appreciate that you subject your ears to our “info-tainment” every two weeks.

But is this actually an outlier? I have to admit to you, fair reader/listener, the Unknown Studio (TUS) has achieved some success we, frankly, didn’t expect we’d have. Sure Cary Williams’ sexy visage [which we lovingly borrowed from Avenue Magazine and which they have not demanded that we remove, bless their souls] definitely scored us some points — and the fact that he co-chairs a committee of under 40-somethings with a fairly broad reach didn’t hurt either. But people are starting to notice us regardless.

And frankly, it’s hilarious and awesome.

In our hockey episode, Scott revealed that he didn’t think we’d make it past three episodes — that we lacked the wherewithal and discipline to really see this through. I figured we’d continue to do it on and off until we go bored of it. But several things have taken place that have encouraged us, emboldened us, and also made us more or less insufferable to our significant others:

• We managed to dupe Edmonton City Councilor Don Iveson into appearing on the show;
• We were told by two post-partisans that we were doing good for society;
• Karen Unland, Online Editor at the Edmonton Journal, begged us to be on the show (at least that’s how I tell it) — she even studied for the Fast 15;
• One of our shows was downloaded almost ONE THOUSAND TIMES (by which I mean slightly over 500);
• And this other thing happened about which I’m going to tell you…

I think TUS has tipped. In fact, I’m almost certain we have. The reason I know this is because of an email I received last night:

I run a pirate radio station in Edmonton (107.9 FM available around Southgate) and while looking for local content, I came across your show.

Any issues with me rebroadcasting the odd show?

Now either this guy thinks we’re doing something of substance, or he thinks our show is “odd.” Either way, I took a shine to him right away and said, “Go nuts. But I’m going to talk about this on our website, because this is evidence that we have finally hit the big time. I hope this doesn’t get you into trouble.”

To which he replied:

Say as much as you like. They’d need one of those “scanner” vans like in the movies to find me. LOL
And I’m VERY local. I get about 3-4 square miles on a 1-watt transmitter.

I’ll start broadcasting your ‘casts on Wed.

As in tomorrow. So look out, south Edmonton, the Unknown Studio is coming at you, almost live, right over them there airwaves.

You can’t stop the signal.

Well, friends and listeners, this is a friendly reminder that you have but one more day to submit your iTunes review of the Unknown Studio. Feel free to tell us you love us or hate us — we don’t care! Either way you’ll be entered to win a $40 gift card from American Apparel. You have until 12pm MST tomorrow. If you haven’t submitted a review by then, there’s no conceivable way you can win. And that’s no way to celebrate Christmas.

Stay warm out there, and good luck to everyone who’s entered (I’m looking at you reileycat, korymath and phendrana)!

UPDATE: I spoke too soon — we have more reviews up. Thanks to daveberta, Mondo Jay, and c_lobrown!

“I can’t believe it’s so cold! I hate living here in the winter!”

Seriously, it’s often people who’ve lived in Edmonton all their lives who I hear throw down with complaints about the cold weather. And my response is always the same…

So, move.

I like Edmonton. I like living in Edmonton. And believe it or not, the climate is part of the deal. Yes, it can get cold in the city, and you’ll even occasionally hear me exclaim “Holy balls, it’s cold out today!” But I don’t complain about the cold, because it’s just an accepted part of my lifestyle. I have winter clothes, I live in a region where it can get “Holy Balls” cold out. I deal with it, and go on with my life.

And I’m a total baby when it comes to discomfort. I complain when I stub my baby toe (which hurts like a bitch, and happens all too often for my liking.) What I’m saying is, if I’m a huge baby, and I can handle the cold… what does that make the people who complain?

I’ll tell you what that makes them. Pussies. Cold, shivering pussies.

It’s not like you have no other options. I know many people who migrate, bird-like, to the warmer climes of the U-S-of-A over the winter. You could also head to Vancouver and enjoy a slightly milder, wetter winter. If you’re going to complain, get out.

And seriously, if you’ve lived here more than five years, and you’re still shocked when it actually gets sub-arctic outside… you have no business living in… well, Canada.

“If I wear a coat, I won’t look good at the club!”

This is the second type of person who boggles my mind, and arguably they’re the worst of the two. I can put up with people complaining about the weather Edmonton gets every year, but willfully putting yourself in danger during the extreme cold takes the cake.

I can understand that you might not consider it practical to bring a coat clubbing because you don’t want to check it – possibly at multiple locations – or have it stolen. But that consideration is totally negated by the risk of frost-bite and hypothermia. You can literally freeze your ass off in less than two minutes when it gets under 30 in the wind.

When I drive down the street in my warmish car, Blue, with gloves and a heavy coat on, and I look out the window and see some idiot at the bus-stop in a thin hoodie and a pair of jeans, hands stuck in his pockets, shivering… I have no sympathy, and only rage. Seriously, asshole? What the hell made you think that was a good idea?

I’ve even seen girls in open toed shoes and skirts wearing totally inappropriate winter-wear on Friday or Saturday nights, scurrying to the club as fast as their high-heels will take them. Yes, ladies, those shoes are striking. Shame the price for wearing them could be a broken ankle due to ice, or the loss of your toes due to the wind-chill.

Again, no sympathy. If you’ve lived in Edmonton, you know the risks associated with our sometimes extreme winter weather. If you still can’t wrap your head around it, or wilfully ignore it, you deserve my scorn.

Cold Comfort

I actually really like the winter. I think it’s a lovely time of year, and I look forward to snowfall in the city of Edmonton, which looks as stunning with a layer of fresh snow and lit-up for the holidays, as it does with the trees in full bloom.

I’ve had arguments with people over which is better, extreme heat or extreme cold, and I’m firmly in the extreme cold camp. In the hottest summer weather, there’s only so much you can do to cool down, only so many layers you can shed, and often it still isn’t enough to stop from being uncomfortable. Conversely, there’s always more you can put on, always something you can do to warm up.

So, hop to it, fellow Edmontonians;

- Alberta Health Services has some helpful tips on keeping warm and safe in cold weather.
- Drive safe on the roads.
- Make sure Felix and Fido are cared for and safe.
- Buy yourself a quality snow shovel.
- Get yourself a stylish and comfortable winter jacket.
- Grab a cup of hot cocoa.
- Dust off the toboggan and hit the slopes.
- Bring a Food Bank donation to Candy Cane Lane. Walk it, don’t drive.  It’s better, bring a cup of something hot, and enjoy.
- Spite the cold! Throw a B-B-Q party!

Don’t let the cold get you down, fellow Edmontonians! It’s a beautiful time of year.

Next Time: Books on Tape!

Given my propensity to seek out stuff people say about me, I’m dismayed every time I check out the Unknown Studio on iTunes. Oh sure, some of our listeners have given us star reviews, but what does 4.5 star even mean? Can I take that to someone and be like, “Look, dude: ALMOST FIVE STARS. Why won’t you just approve me for a freakin’ mortgage already!?”

So I’ve decided to run a contest. I’m offering up a $40 gift card for American Apparel. If you write a review for our show on iTunes, you’ll be entered to win. Here’s how it works.

1. Write your Unknown Studio review on iTunes
2. Smile at yourself for a job well done
3. Post a comment here and let us know you’ve written your review — tell us which one it is so we know who you are
4. Wait for me to draw a name — possibly yours
5. Win, maybe

See, how hard was that? You could already be the proud owner of a SINGLE COTTON SHIRT. One that’s made ETHICALLY by hippies in California. (Seriously, though, I love American Apparel fabric — so soft!)

Write whatever you want. Pan us, love us. Tell us we suck. Tell me I suck, and Scott’s the only reason you listen. I don’t care!

Spread the word. Tweet your peeps, Facebook your friends, tell fellow listeners. Please, someone, ANYONE, take this gift card off my hands. You have until TUESDAY, DECEMBER 15 at NOON. That’ll leave you with nine shopping days before Christmas.

And… GO!

Both Adam and I are former contributors to the University of Alberta’s very own student newspaper; I was an avid contributor and delivered papers around campus for a year, Adam had the slightly less respected position of Editor-in-Chief. Now, many of you are probably aware of our past with this institution, but you may not be aware that many of our guests are also former Gatewayers.

It’s the Unknown Studio’s Gateway rundown!

Don Iveson (Episode 2)
Ramin Ostad (Episode 3)
Scott Lilwall (Episode 4)
Cary Williams (Episode 12 – check that photo credit!)
Karen Unland (Epsiode 13)

Dave Cournoyer (Episode 9) didn’t write for the paper, but being involved in student politics makes you a frequent Gateway topic.

As an added bonus, Edmonton uber-blogger Mack Male has also left his mark on the paper.

Now I’m not saying we’re playing favourites by booking former members of our exclusive newspaper club. We are however more inclined the book them. Because we like them.

Next Time: Communication

An average afternoon in Edmonton?

I consider myself to be an average driver. I make the occasional mistake on the road, yes, but nothing serious and I have certainly never put anyone’s life in jeopardy. I imagine that most people in Edmonton would also consider themselves to be average drivers – or even good drivers.

So why do we have such a bad reputation, as some of the worst drivers in Canada?

Road Rage

I don’t have an answer, but today I happen to find myself thinking about this because of an incident that happened to me recently.

I was stopped at an intersection, turning left from the eastbound lane to go north. I had proceeded into the intersection to wait for the westbound traffic flow to cease, when suddenly a firetruck came up the northbound lane and made to go across the intersection. The drivers along the south portion of the intersection made room for it, and the firetruck passed in front of me.

Then, amazingly, a police car in the left turning lane to go eastbound also lit up it’s lights and went around the car in front of it. Again, I yielded to the emergency vehicle, as a good driver should.

Now, however, we come to the dilemma. While those two emergency vehicles went by, my light had turned red and I found myself – and the car behind me – trapped in the intersection. The green turning arrow had begun to flash for the north and south left-turning lanes.

Common sense would suggest that as I and my fellow traveller were now blocking the southbound traffic flow through the intersection, we should be allowed to clear the intersection despite our red light – before the rest of traffic continued.

But Edmonton drivers don’t appear to have common sense. No less than a dozen cars proceeded to turn in front and around – no small feat- our two trapped vehicles. No one apparently considered that the entire southbound lane was about to be totally obstructed because of that lack of judgement.

When the full green lit up, I gunned it and completed my turn before the northbound traffic went. I hope the car behind me was as lucky.

So, to recap, I properly yielded to two emergency vehicles and was rewarded by a cavalcade of dangerous driving at my expense. And I’ll bet not one of those twelve drivers even thought twice about what they were doing.

Permit for Learning

One of my guilty pleasures is Canada’s Worst Driver, a show on the Discovery channel.

If you’ve never seen it, the premise is pretty simple. Eight drivers from all across Canada are nominated by loved ones for their… questionable motor-vehicle skills. These are real people who’ve been sharing the road with you in our country.

Host Andrew with CWD5 contestants Jakob, Crystal, Angelina, Arun, Father Giles, Mike, Melissa and Jojo.

Through a series of tests, the panel of judges and entertaining host Andrew Younghusband try and rehabilitate these bad drivers so they can be released back onto the road. One of those drivers, however, will be named Canada’s Worst Driver… and won’t be getting their license back.

One of the reasons I love the show is the ever-mounting horror as I realise that many of these drivers have no business behind the wheel. The other reason though, is the educational reason.

By following these people through the program, you pick up tips and tricks on how to drive. I can honestly say that I am a better, more attentive driver thanks to what I’ve seen on the show and I highly recommend you catch up on the fifth season for the same reason.

Come on, Edmonton. If we all brush up on our basic skills and pay just a little bit more attention, it’ll make a load of difference. We’re not Canada’s Worst Drivers, are we?

Next Time: Space Invaders

Revolutionary device or child's play?

I don’t think anyone on earth likes to think of themselves as materialistic, unless that’s their whole shtick. But outside of such Hollywood Illuminati as Paris Hilton (who is famous for being famous, which could be the topic of a whole other post) most people feel some guilt for acquiring more and more stuff, especially when they take a look at the rest of the world and see how little people in other countries have.

But we still do it. Some people (including myself at times) almost obsessively. I know a lot of people who actually name the inanimate objects they acquire, and I’m certainly no stranger to this. My car’s name is Chloe. My iPhone’s name is Mavis. My computer’s name is Mark Twain. My laser printer is called Harry Connick Junior… and the list goes on.

Filling the void?

I think it would be way too simplistic — if not outright wrong — to say that we name our possessions to fill a void. But that still doesn’t explain why when my mother asks how Chloe’s doing, I tell her that Chloe needed to have her timing belt replaced. And it doesn’t seem weird I tell my roommate that I misplaced Mavis and he tells me he last saw her on the kitchen counter.

People name things that mean a lot to them, perhaps. Or things that make their lives better. Hell, we even name things that make our lives worse — like my next door neighbour, Doucheface McGee, who always slams the door and stomps around outside my bedroom window every morning.

Gadget worship

Maybe we give objects like this names because their original name are too unwieldy to say. Instead of asking, “Who the hell dumped milk on my blu-ray player?” It’s way simpler to just say, “Who the hell dumped milk on Leonard?”

I might have believed all this. Might have deluded myself into believing the naming of gadgetry was a phenomenon of materialism. But three weeks ago my life changed. I bought an iPhone, a device that through its utility and convenience has completely changed my life. And I suppose that I could seek help for this addiction to materialism, the naming of gadgetry, but I can’t find any decent psychologists in this city. No one to help stem this patholgy…

I’m going to go see if there’s an app for that.

WT36K8SWVBRV

And I’ll admit it’s a strange perception. When I was a staff writer at the Gateway, I was an opinion columnist – and by all accounts I was a good one. So when did the well go dry? When did I run out of things I felt were worth writing about? When did I lose my confidence?

Sadly, I don’t have any answers.

But with the advent of the Unknown Studio, I’m beginning to find my mojo once again. More importantly, I’m learning that people actually do seem to care what I have to say, something that I find amazing actually. So with Adam’s insistence, I’ll get back into blogging.

I won’t promise that things won’t occasionally be a little dry, but I’ll at least try to remain interesting.

Next time: Exploding Shark!

This is the start of something new… ish. I’ve moved my old Pseudo Psyence blogging archives over here now. So on top of the show, Scott and I will be bloggin about whatever tickles our fancy — including all the things we fail to cover in our show. And let me tell you people — lately, there have been a lot of people emailing us with show ideas. It’s been awesome.

Which brings me to my next point: you guys. Our listening audience. Scott and I both have been floored by the support we’ve received and the interest people seem to have in our show. Now I could sit here telling you that this was fully expected — but it wasn’t. I figured Scott and I would spend the next two years doing this to an audience of five. But we’ve struck a chord. And our episodes are consistently drawing large audiences (such as they are with subscribed podcasts).

From the cold, black pit of my cynical heart, thank you to our tens of listeners. I hope you check out our website often — we’re still working on ironing out some glitches, of course — that you enjoy the show, and that you have something to say in the comments section about our fluctuating lunacy as it gets spotlighted here on the Interwebs for all to see.

I think it’s safe to say, after only knowing Jeff on Twitter beforehand, that I liked this guy right away. We chatted for a bit, discussing such things as roadkill and where we could go in the next ten minutes for dessert. It was the start of something wonderful, and it involved cheesecake.

Sadly, I wouldn’t see Jeff again for a long time… Months later, in fact, at a chance encounter at another downtown pub when Mack and I were crashed (it was a good crash, though, and I don’t mean drunk either). This time, Jeff showed up with community pillar Brittney Le Blanc, as well as his awesome wife Sally Poulsen, who I also liked immediately. And not just because she always calls me dude, but because she’s hilarious and smart. If Sally and Jeff weren’t already married to each other, I’d marry them both, then suggest that they also marry each other in a strange union the likes of which probably aren’t legal in Canada, but which would shock the human race into an era of peace and love.

So you can imagine my delight when the two of them agreed to be guests on the Unknown Studio. And not just because they’re awesome people (which they are), but because they’re entrepreneurial community participants not content to sit on the sidelines and whinge about the things that make them sad. They’re down there in the trenches getting shit done.

I think that’s part of the reason why, back in June 2009, they launched TheEdmontonian.com, a hyperlocal news blog featuring content for and by citizens and well-wishers of Edmonton which you should read… after you finish reading this.

The Space Ghost effect

I think it would be fair to say that Jeff and Sally are fans of the Unknown Studio (please, one or both of you, correct me if I’m wrong). And as you’ll hear in the episode we recorded with them, what they’re trying to do with TheEdmontonian and what Scott and I, it turns out, are trying to do with the Unknown Studio is to provide hyperlocal infotainment — a word you’ll learn I also dislike.

But our two squads (can two people be a squad, I ask you?) being of similar minds, I noticed a bit of a Space Ghost effect taking place… You see Space Ghost, himself the host of a talk show, would often ask his guests questions about himself. “What do you think of my show?” “What do you think of me?” “Are you getting enough oxygen?” I’m extremely self-critical, and I don’t want to be the guy who has people on to talk about himself. Myself. Me.

And I don’t think it came across that way, it’s just a little niggling my brain has placed in front of me.

Enough about me

Regardless of limited self-flagellation, I will say this: I read The Edmontonian every day, and have since it was launched. Not every post, but I’m on there checking it out, seeing what my compatriots have discovered from having their fingers on the pulse of the community. And between the morning headlines, the light-hearted stabbing at the reputation of such hallowed concrete and glass monoliths as Commerce Place, and the actual interviews, reviews, and other stories they publish, it’s a great online resource. One of the best hubs the Edmonton community has online.

And they and the other little hubs are all in good company.

Mine.

(Sorry, I just had to get that in there.)

At the time, I hadn’t played Uncharted 2: Among Thieves, which was discussed in the final segment of the show. This is a game where all of the UCC guys agreed: the story line is incredibly engaging, and the whole thing basically plays like a movie. This was a major topic of discussion, as most of us agreed that one of the most revolutionary leaps forward in gaming recently is a very deliberate attention to detail on storyline.

If you’re into games, I highly recommend you subscribe to UserCreatedContent — Edmonton’s only video game podcast… And not just because I’m on it either. These guys are the future of citizen-video-game journalism and a great addition to the Edmonton Podcasting Scape.

This was, of course, followed up with a very clear message: I am nothing more than swine.

I love the people I work with!

I started to feel under the weather on Tuesday evening. By Wednesday afternoon, I was canceling my evening’s plans. On Thursday morning I called in sick and hadn’t left the house until Saturday. And being home alone all day with an aloof cat, a raging headache and no energy to do anything is a far cry from the delights of sick days when I was a kid.

I haven’t been hit that hard by an illness for about 5 years. I don’t get sick very easily. And while I didn’t think I had H1N1 — because I didn’t have a fever — I think I had nearly every symptom.

Calling in sick… seems like something both the federal and provincial governments have basically done. That, at least, would provide some context for the utter mismanagement of the H1N1 vaccination debacle, particularly in Alberta. More articulate men than I have provided far more lucid comments than I could on the matter. Such as Chris LaBossiere, who wrote two excellent posts on the matter over the last few days:

“But there are two segments of the population I think need to take more accountability in managing the hype and panic spreading across our region. Government and Healthcare leadership and those of use who are not considered a great risk for contacting and being harmed by the virus. The concept of free access to healthcare does not equal the public’s feeling of entitlement to its unmanaged distribution. We must consider that like all complex issues, there needs to be a complex management of said issue.” — From “Time for H1N1 Leadership. A shared responsibility.”

Chris followed this post up with a far more urgent one — one that calls on the leadership in this province to get their shit together:

“The distribution of the H1N1 vaccine should not have been so difficult. All along, Dr. Gerry Predy and the government have had a strategy on dealing with pandemics. I heard him speak over 4 years ago to the Edmonton South Rotary Club about what he called then, a certainty. He said that a flu pandemic was not a matter of if it might happen, as much as when it will happen. Minister Liepert is now coming across like a cat chasing a ball of yarn. He has lost control of the messaging in this situation and the Premier seems happy to watch from the sidelines, delegating the entire situation to his Minister and senior bureaucrats. This is NOT leadership.” — From “So far so… what? Where are you Ed?“

I may have felt like utter piss this past week… and this sick feeling is only compounded by the negligent leadership demonstrated in the handling of the H1N1 vaccination debacle. I fail to understand how a government so explicit in its messaging of the importance of being vaccinated could be so unprepared when citizens actually heed their word. Now, they’re scrambling and implementing restrictions on vaccination delivery that, frankly, should have been in place from the beginning.

Bunch of Eddie-come-latelies, this provincial government. Thank the gods we have guys like LaBossiere upset enough to speak out about it!

Regardless, Scott and I had Marliss Weber on the Halloween episode of the Unknown Studio. Marliss is an editor at See Magazine, and she has a keen interest in stories of hauntings and ghostly encounters, particularly as they take place here in Edmonton. Marliss has gone on a few ghost hunts in the city, even, using such scientific tools as digital voice recorders (DVRs) which have the uncanny ability of picking up ghostly sounds inaudible to humans. If you download the latest ep of our show, some of her tales will no doubt give you chills.

With so much anecdotal evidence and eyewitness accounts of these hauntings, why is it so hard for me to believe in the existence of this ethereal plane? I think it’s because often the mind sees what it wants to see. In spite of the often, incorrectly touted notion that we only use 10 per cent of our brains at a given time, the human mind is a powerful device. And though a science like psychology is still in its infancy (at least in relation to other more traditional sciences), it helps to explain a lot about why we see what we see.

Add the power of the brain to external forces, such as magnetic fields, and you get apparitions people swear are real. I dug up this old article to illustrate the point:

“Individuals prone to paranormal experiences are sensitive to weak electromagnetic fields and to man-made electrical fields, which are becoming more prominent in the communication age,” explains Persinger, who has studied the link between magnetic fields and paranormal experience for 15 years. [...] In our increasingly electronically charged world, it would seem that midnight apparitions are really just clock radios rather than ghosts.

So should we dismiss the notion of ghosts entirely? I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s enough evidence to say decisively one way or another whether ghosts exist or not — though admittedly I’ve done very little research on the subject. And to my knowledge there are only three scientists who were studying paranormal phenomenon anywhere in North America…

But Drs. Venkman, Stantz and Spengler lost their research grant, all because of a crotchety old dean.

Well.

It’s been one of those months.

October arrived with the ferocity of a rabid, nearly-extinct Tasmanian Devil, and it appears poised to hand the keys over the November with the vigor of an over-coked Bohemian reading beat poetry at one of those hipster coffee houses. Put another way, it’s been an exhausting month. Consequently: not as much writing as I’d hoped.

That doesn’t mean I, and others like me, haven’t been up to all kinds of stuff. They have been. Hence, somewhat, this list:

• Last week, Mack Male launched his much-anticipated ShareEdmonton online calendar, a hyper-local event aggregator that promises to become a central repository of all things #yeg. Check it out, play around with it, and send Mack bugs and feedback.
• Mack and fabulous Calgarian DJ Kelly came up with a very interesting idea: pay everyday Albertans to go on sabbatical — so they can improve the province for everyone. Read about it here and here.
• The Edmonton Oilers have started out the hockey season with some fantastic success. Can it last? Also, note that their record is tied with that of the Calgary Flames.
• My cousin’s restaurant, the Manor Bistro, soft-launched its new visual identity this month. You can check it here. They’ll be launching new menus in November as well!
• The ICE Conference takes place at the beginning of November, and I’ll be demoing one of dub5′s products — a scheduler we developed for the SHINE Clinic.
• Rachel and I carved pumpkins last weekend with her roommate (and roommate’s boyfriend). You can see pics here (Mine’s the normal Halloween-style one).
• Scott and I are recording the Halloween episode of the Unknown Studio this evening, with guest Marliss Weber. Should be a creepy one! Look for the episode to come out on Monday, Oct 26.
• On that note, for all things Halloween, particularly in Edmonton, point your browsers to dEdmonton!
• This very interesting article on Search Engine Optimization has been the centre of some controversy. It’s definitely worth reading if you’re into that sort of thing.
• At some point very soon, I need to see these movies: Where The Wild Things Are, Zombieland, Paranormal Activity, Astro Boy, Cirque du Freak, and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (I love Terry Gilliam), among others.
• Finally, I’ll be a guest on the next episode of Edmonton’s only video-game podcast, User Created Content. I’ll let you know when it’s posted so you can give it a listen.

I snapped this pic in our back alley, and wanted to share it with you:

Part of our discussion turned to stateman (-woman/person) politicians, and how they don’t really exist anymore. I think most people know what I’m talking about when I statesman — I’m talking about the Trudeaus, the JFKs, hell even the Sir Winston Churchills of the political world. And while I think most people get it, I also think I could have done a better job, at least in the episode, of articulating exactly what I meant by stateman.

To me, a statesman politician is someone who gets themselves elected and takes their job seriously. They have a vision for improving their country and of improving the lives of their citizens in measurable, practical and smart ways. They also have a strategy of how to implement their vision. They’ll do these things at the risk of their popularity or re-election chances (although I would argue that if you’re being a proper statesman, you should have improved chances for re-election over those other politicos by virtue of your statesman-ness). They’ll do it because it’s right.

Then I remembered one of my favourite movies ever. It’s a movie that’s totally off the wall, but definitely a reflection of how I wish things worked. It’s a movie called Dave, starring Kevin Kline, Sigourney Weaver, Frank Langella and Ving Rhames. It’s actually the movie from which I ganked the titled of this post.

Dave sees Kevin Kline’s character “Dave,” a sometimes-impersonator of the sitting US president (“Bill Mitchell”) and head of a temp employment agency, thrust into the most powerful chair on the planet when the president has a heart attack. The geniuses in the Whitehouse decide to hire Kovic to impersonate Mitchell so they can continue with their nefarious scandals and such. Until Dave wises up to what’s happening and decides to take a stand… FOR AMERICA.

If it sounds campy and over-the-top, that’s because it is. But regardless of camp, it stills serves as a soothing balm when juxtaposed against the dead-eyed cynical heaps of flesh we [generally] call politicians these days.

Dave Kovic believed in the statesman president. When he was suddenly asked to assume the president’s role, he realized just how corrupt everything was. And he decided to go for broke and do something about it.

No one in the Canadian political system wants to go for broke. No one wants to take a tremendous risk (or, hell, several small ones) to improve the state of the nation. Should we expect them to? Yes, we should. We give these people the keys to the nation and they repay us with ad scandals, double-talk and outright dishonesty.

It’s little wonder no one in their right mind wants the hassle of running for public office. The mess that needs cleaning up seems insurmountable. If you want to be inspired by politics, your best bet these days is to rent a fictional movie from 1993 called Dave. You won’t regret it. Here’s one of the best scenes from the film:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcwKI4ld-l8&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b]

At some point, however, I came to realize the importance of being grateful for things/people/events large and small alike. And while I have more than my fair share of narcissistic moments, I also know when to not be such a self-involved cock-bag. This is one such moment. Below the photo [of my father molesting a Thanksgiving Turkey] is a very brief list of some of the things I’m very thankful for.

Dad un-stuffs a turkey

Thanks for…

• My job: I’m lucky to have one. And I’m one of the lucky few who has one who actually enjoys it.
• My co-workers: awesome, creative and hilarious people, all of them.
• My wonderful girlfriend: without whom I would be a much fatter mess than I currently am.
• My amazing friends: without whom I would be a much fatter mess than I currently am.
• My parents and brothers: partly responsible for my upbringing, but without whom I would be a much fatter mess than I currently am.
• My cat: the constant source of amusement, bemusement, and detached but unconditional love.
• The amazing people I’ve met: there are so many folks I’ve met this year because of my [now over] one year using Twitter. I’m so fortunate to know you all, and to get to share and interact with you daily.
• My health: in spite of my allusion to fatness and messiness, I’m a healthy adult male with few — if any — complaints.
• My roommates: oh sure, I want to strangle them 49% of the time. But that 51%? Sweet, sweet friendship.
• Opportunities: some I’ve experienced, and some are coming over the horizon. I’m grateful for all of them.

What are you thankful for at this particular moment?

1. A reason why she needed this from me (and the answer to that can be found here).
2. Precisely the same information from her.

Well Brittney, being the tremendously good sport (and awesome person) that she is, happily complied. Here, then, is Brittney Le Blanc for you, in living colour — she’s one of the finest Edmontonians out there, and I figured she should have her day in the digital sun as well.

Your name: Brittney Le Blanc

Twitter: @britl

Other place to find Brittney on the net: her fantastical blog

On the job…

Your official job title: I don’t have one, but I’m called Wonderkid a lot, even on the schedule — so let’s go with that. Basically I work in the newsroom, reporting, doing web stuff, and writing. I wear a lot of hats (figuratively and literally).

What’s the best part of the job? No two days are the same. I really don’t know what to expect when I walk through the station doors. Also, I’ve been incredibly curious ever since I was a little girl. Teachers used to hate it. Now I get to ask as many questions as I want!

What’s the worst part of the job? The hours can be a little bit scattered. Just as no two days are the same, my hours on those days might also not be the same. One day I might work 6am – 2pm, the next 12pm- 8pm. It can make it hard to plan things in advance.

How long have you been doing this? I’ve worked with the station almost three and a half years. I’ve been in the newsroom for a year and a bit.

What sort of education did you have to pursue for this job? I went to NAIT and took their Radio and Television Arts program. It was a fantastic program, and I’d definitely recommend it to anyone interested in the industry. It’s very hands-on, and the groundwork it laid made working at an actual station much easier to adapt to.

What skills and experience would you say are necessary for someone to succeed in this industry? You NEED to learn to multitask. At any given time, you’ll be doing about eight things. Learning to “listen multitask” is a huge help. Listening to multiple things at the same time is key. Also, it would help if you have six arms, a motivation to learn and better yourself, and never sleep.

What attracted you to this career? As I mentioned before, I’m VERY curious. I always want to know what other people do, how things work, and where things come from. I’m on a quest to never stop learning, and this job definitely helps with that.

What’s the atmosphere like at work? Depends on the day, and the news of the day. Some days, it’s a blast. Everyone is on their A-game, we’re laughing, producing lots of interesting news stories, and everything just clicks. Other days, there seems to be no news and it’s a lot harder to keep momentum going.

What is an average day like? That’s tough, it really depends on the day, and what I’m doing that day. Normally I would say I come into work, catch up on stories, what people are working on, and either work on/find stories to chase, upload stories to the website, write/rewrite stories, or any other multitude of things.

What are a couple of misconceptions people have about your career? That it’s easy or we only like to follow crime stories and depress the public. We’re not trying to frighten the public, and our job isn’t easy. When news breaks, riots happen, explosions, etc, we are the ones who head out there. We try to bring the most accurate and informative news to our listeners/readers, even when that means dealing with families who’ve just lost a family member or friend, or people who really want nothing to do with us.

I think a lot of people also think we do whatever news stories please us. And although you personally might not care about the Dominos Tournament happening in town or a multi-vehicle collision, we try to bring the community the news they want.

What is the best/funniest/worst thing(s) to happen to you at work? I think one of the funniest moments was covering the big storm this July. I happened to be a few blocks from the CN building, so I drove over there to report from the scene. I wasn’t expecting the storm, so I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and my thin iNews880 jacket. A reporter from the Journal and I got caught in a torrential downpour and were pelted with golf ball sized hail. Meanwhile, we were just trying to keep our equipment dry. I was thoroughly chilled and I think I looked like a drowned rat all night.

Another great moment was when the random meteorite streaked across the sky. We all were working and didn’t see it, but the phones went crazy. People saw everything from alien sightings, to communist spy balloons.

One of the worst things we deal with is talking to families that have just lost a child. Amber alerts make our hearts race. It’s all about getting as much information out there as possible. Talking to friends and family of the missing children/teens is nerve wracking. There’s nothing you can really say to comfort them. Everyone gets a terrible feeling in the pit of their stomach until the child is found.

Brittney in #yeg

How long have you lived in Edmonton? All my life. I love this city!

If you weren’t living here, where would you be? Rome. Or possibly Ottawa or Vancouver.

What is your favourite part about Edmonton? I LOVE the High Level Bridge. It’s got to be one of my favourite things. I guess the people in Edmonton are okay too. (Kidding!) I love the community; people are always willing to help each other out. When we need to, our city really bands together.

What is your favourite festival to attend? I haven’t really had the opportunity to attend many this year. The only opportunity I have to go is when I cover the stories. However, I would have to say it would be between the Fringe, Symphony Under the Sky, dEdmonton, or Winter Lights.

What is your favourite restaurant? Probably Mongolie Grill, but it really depends on my mood.

When friends/family come to visit, what’s the first attraction you tell them to visit? I love to show them our River Valley. Of course, they usually just want to head to West Edmonton Mall.

All about Bee Elle Bee

If you weren’t doing your current job, what would you be doing? If I wasn’t in radio at all — I might be a writer. Or maybe work at a pub. I’m not really sure, radio’s been my passion since I was just a little girl, there’s never really been another option.

What is the most interesting job you’ve ever had? I used to work at a little kids birthday place. Part of what I did was run birthday parties for children ages 1-13. To this day I probably could get a bunch of kids in and out of a party room in 30-40 minutes. I also still kick butt at Laser Tag, and could fix any arcade game with jammed tickets.

Favourite Television show? Until I recently got a PVR (thanks company Christmas draws!) I didn’t really watch a lot of TV. I can’t narrow it down to one — but I love How I Met Your Mother, Chuck, Dollhouse, Buffy, Heroes, and True Blood. Although, I’m finding a lot of fault with the last one lately.

Favourite Movie? Amelie, Chasing Amy, Becoming Jane, and both the Die Hard and Batman series.

Favourite Book? Don’t judge me, but I love Pride and Prejudice, Atlas Shrugged, the Fountainhead, Sophie’s World, The Magus, Hardy Boy books, Anita Blake books — and more recently, the Sookie Stackhouse series.

Favourite Musician(s)? Matchbox Twenty, hands down. Then it’s a mix of songs. I find it really hard to have loyalty to one group — I mean look at what Third Eye Blind is doing now. That’s just weird. I love Country music though.

If you could have any super-power, which would you want? Instant teleportation. I wouldn’t have to worry about parking, I’d get more sleep, I’d cover WAY more news and stories… I’d be unstoppable. Plus, I could travel more.

What’s the biggest problem the world faces today? Apathy. A couple of months ago, Lesley Primeau invited Mack Male and myself on her show to discuss Twitter. A man older than both of us was frustrated that “Generation Y” was paying so much attention to the problems of the world, and at home. He wanted us to be more selfish. I think it’s that sort of thought that gets us in trouble.

We need to think more of others, more of our community — both at home and around the world. People 30 and under SHOULD care about politics, should worry about our future, and the future of our city. I’m not saying there aren’t people our age now who aren’t leading the way, but we need more than just them. Apathy won’t get us anywhere, we need passion and smart minds collaborating.

If you won the Lottery, what is the first thing you’d do? Pay off my debts. Really lame, I know. I would probably also throw a big party and buy all my friends Egyptian cotton sheets. I love really nice, soft sheets. I would then buy a penthouse apartment downtown, install A/C, and buy myself a dependable car. I’d save the rest, but probably do something silly and frivolous, like buy myself 365 pairs of new socks, so I’d always wake up and experience that wonderful new sock feeling. (For those judging me for not paying off my Mom’s house — she’s already done that.)

What’s the best part about being you? I can honestly say I’ve never met another me. Which, upon reflection, is probably a good thing for the rest of the world. The best part about being me is the experiences. I always go out there and try new things. I try to never turn down a good experience — as long as no one gets hurt.

Here’s another installment of Life Over the Last Few Weeks:

• Mike Kendrick and Conal Pierse are engaged in a battle of wits — using illustrations. You should definitely check out their Sketch War.
• Chris LaBossiere wrote a spectacular post last week about Social Media and the Old Boys Club. Read and comment!
• NHL Pre-season is over. Now the real excitement begins! Over at OilersNation, FlamesNation and CanucksArmy, we’re preparing to roll out some new site features. Keep your eyes open for that!
• Also on OilersNation, Jason Gregor wrote a moving piece this week about his father, who passed away nine years go. Now go tell your dad how much you love him.
• Scott and I recorded two podcasts last weekend, since our next two weekends are jam-packed. We released Episode the Eighth on Tuesday of this week. Check out my update post from Tuesday for details, and click here to download direct from our website, or here to subscribe in iTunes.
• Along those lines, the fabulous and beautiful editors of The Edmontonian profiled the Unknown Studio on their site. Thanks for the shout-out guys!
• The 5th Annual Pure Speculation Science Fiction Festival is taking place this weekend in Edmonton at the Shaw Conference Centre. Register online or at any Happy Harbour Comics Store.
• The National Hockey League has been experimenting with social media, doing NHLTweetups during the playoffs and running a contest users can enter to win tickets. The Edmonton Oilers are getting in on it too. I wonder if this means a big about-face from about a year ago…?

In our last episode (the Seventh), Scott said at the very end of the recording he didn’t expect that we would make it past episode three — having the short attention spans that we do and all. But I can honestly say this little venture of ours isn’t a chore — not even remotely; it’s something I look forward to every recording. In a perfect world, Scott and I would be doing this full time on top of running an Unknown Studio website and doing all the other hilarious random things it is that we do. And we would be paid vast sums of money for our troubles.

Anyhow, we launched Episode the Eighth yesterday and I think it’s kind of a neat listen. Not only did we get to talk to the Festival Organizer of Edmonton’s Pure Speculation Science Fiction Festival (taking place at the Shaw Conference Centre October 2 to 4) Mr Brent Jans, but I really feel as though Scott and I are starting to hit our stride. We sound comfortable. We sound like we’re having fun. It’s because we are.

To those of you who’ve given us a listen, even if you haven’t been into every episode topic: my thanks. It’s great to have your support, and tremendous to receive your feedback. I’m glad to say that more great content is on the way (in our next episode, we talk politics with Daveberta and Duncan Woytaszek).

Scott and I are also going to have a website developed that will probably become home to all my blogging — and Scott’s, as I will force him to write. The Unknown Studio Podcast will always be the flagship, of course. But we’re both so encouraged by how things have gone that we want to become bigger and better.

This is, hopefully, where you come in. If you have criticisms or kudos, we’d like to hear them. Please email me at adam [at] theunknownstudio [dot] ca and share your thoughts with me and Scott. We’re also looking for show sponsors to help us manage our hosting costs and our eventual development costs for the new site.

Above all, please keep listening. That’s why we’re doing this, after all — to share our stories, and those of others in our community.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far.

Oh sure, there was the occasional Hungy Hungry Hippos grudge-match or a Jenga throw-down. These would invariably apex with me or one of my brothers becoming extremely annoyed, throwing a game piece at someone and accidentally hitting them in the eye. The grand finale involved the thrower running away, saying, “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.”

Oh, and we sometimes played Sorry! as well.

Having aged significantly, if not graciously, since then I’ve learned to temper my emotions and have swung somewhat in the other direction. Whenever I play Monopoly, for example, I now try and make deals to keep everyone in the game for as long as possible (socialist douchebag, I know) until I have to start knocking people out of it. Except I’ve never won a game of Monopoly. Perhaps it’s time to revise my pinko strategies.

There wasn’t a revision of strategies earlier last week per se. But it afforded me the opportunity to get together and spend some Unknown Studio downtime with my co-host Mr. Scott C. Bourgeois, his lovely finacée Anita, my lovely girlfriend Rachel, and the lovely Brittney Le Blanc.

We started the evening with a quick dinner, and proceeded directly to Scott’s gaming lair — a true Nerd Cave. Check out all the games he had (and I think this constitutes but a third, not even, of his collection):

Behold: evidence of nerd-kind.

Since we were waiting for Rachel to join us following a meeting, we decided to play a few short board games. The first was called “Giftrap.” In the game you get to give the other players presents, advancing your tokens over the board if other players like your gifts, and you like the ones you receive from them. I know, weird concept, right? It was hilarious though! Probably the worst present was a cryonic chamber. The best was a trip to Greece. Damn shame it wasn’t real…

Anita and Brittney show off their gift bags.

I think Anita won… It really didn’t matter, though. For such a simple concept we had a hilarious time. And that, friends, was the greatest gift of all.

It was like Christmas come early — in board game form.

Next, we played a game whose name escapes me, but whose board and game tokens were exquisitely designed. You were given three cards each, all with a series of random lines on them. The object was to lay the cards out on a board, taking turns, to create a path for your little player. You lost by being run off the board or colliding with another player. You won by being the last man standing. I did not win.

I chose the green token. Rightly so, for a green-horn like me.

We moved on to the next game, knowing now that Rachel was on her way from her meeting. A quick card game was in order! This one was called Fluxx. We each had a hand of cards to start with and some basic rules. We then played cards — some had new rules on them, others had information on what it would take to win, others had objects you kept and displayed in order to win… It was strange and hilarious. I’m going to buy Fluxx for sure and force my roommates to play it with me.

A fluxxing good time. Ugh, weak.

Rachel joined us, and the real game began. The last time I was over at Scott and Anita’s we’d started playing Tales of the Arabian Nights, but I didn’t have a chance to play through to the end as I had to leave early. This night, though, I would have my chance.

In order to properly prepare for the NerdFest about to take place, Anita was kind enough to bring Scott and I some Alley Kat Mead while the board was prepped.

Mead indeed!

The game began shortly thereafter. It’s a simple game to play, but there are a lot of steps involved in a players turn, including moving, dice rolls, having “encounters” (some extremely awesome, some mundane), gain story and destiny points, use earned skills, etc. It’s kind of like an RPG in super-simplified board game form. The excitement was palpable. I felt the need to stand up for every turn. Sometimes, on my chair.

Planning my next move, while Scott reads from the game's story guide

In the end Brittney won the game, but completing her adventures, getting the necessary story and destiny points, going back to Baghdad (the starting point of the game) and having an Encounter — if it sounds very sexy, that’s because it was. In this picture, Brittney and Rachel mock all their opponents:

Brittney and Rachel laughing at their enemies

It was a great night, and I hope the start of many more such events. Board games are so much more than Scrabble and Monopoly. I’m glad I had a chance to discover this is such good company. And all without throwing a single game piece at anyone’s eye.

SIrna Kolrami is a smarmy Riker-hating prick

Throw a weird finger-wiggling strategy game into the mix, some war games and that insufferable over-achiever Wesley Crusher, and you have yourself some TwitterTrek.

Here’s what Chris and I had to say about the season 2 episode “Peak Performance“:

ChrisHenderson: After an extended hiatus from narcissisim, @bingofuel and I will be live-tweeting #TNG tonight

Bingofuel: are we really watching an episode with Dr Pulaski? She’s like the ugly school marm of the enterpise #tng

CH: she is a much better doctorb than Beverly “The Red Headed Monster Spazz” Crusher. Bite your tongue.

BF: Ooh the Strategema episode… Back when #tng was Data-centric.

CH: @bingofuel Well, you’ve had too much Boone’s.

BF: Pulaski = Bones = #epicfail #tng

BF: Oh yeah this dude is Zakdorn, not to be confused with Michael Dorn

CH: This episode: Picard entertains a hedgehog-like military strategy academic on his ship. No, it’s not Ignatieff. #TNG

BF: Kolrami doesn’t have faith in Riker. Probably because he keeps breathing through his mouth.

CH: Riker is going to “Command the Hathaway.” IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE: http://is.gd/3ts0s #TNG

BF: Riker: “I prefer brains over Braun as well.” Riker, you aren’t in some seedy bar trying to pickup a Zakdorn slutte

CH: Worf is making model ships that he spends a great deal of time on and then lets his temper destroy. Just like his relationships. #lonliness

BF: “acting ensign”. Acting. Bahahahahaha #tng

CH: In this episode, Riker is commanding a ship to play a war game against the enterprise. And he gets to build his own crew. Takes Worf, Geordi

CH: Oh, he also takes Wesley Crusher to be on his crew. Because Riker is enough of an ass that he will lead on a young boy’s innocent crush.#tng

BF: I like how Strategema is played by attached little hair dryers to your fingers #tng

CH: They’re playing, Strategema, a board game now that is somehow less technologically advanced than a Nintendo 64.

BF: Riker, the jock, just got beat by a nerd! Unacceptable. #tng

CH: The Hathaway, the ship playing war games against the Enterprise, is in worse shape than Michael Jackson’s reputation as a babysitter. #tng

BF: Riker and his ragtag crew are on the Hathaway. What a piece of shit.

BF: “Nice job Geordi.” yeah right on genius, you found the ship’s on-switch

BF: Pulaski is Data’s Strategema pimp in this episode, apparently

BF: Geordi: “Wesley! Go and find me the opposite of matter!”

CH: Pulaski is such a middling jerk. She’s making Data play Strategema against the Strategema Hedgehog! #tng MACHINE VS. NERRRRRD!

BF: Data lost… to a NERRRRD #tng

BF: Kolrami has a big hate-on for Riker. I think he’s beardcist

CH: Picard thinks Riker is the best officer he’s ever served with. I guess Starfleet highly regards 1st officers who are unapologetic lotharios.

BF: What’s the #tng equivalent of cigarettes? Because Pulaski sounds like she smoke ten packs of that shit a day

BF: Data: over analyzing Riker’s battle technique; overusing his dippity-do android hair gel

BF: Come to think of it, Kolrami looks like an octogenarian Oompah Loompah

BF: The Riker Lean is prominenty featured in this episode

CH: Picard just not-so-subtlely revealed that he has a massive crush on his first officer. Riker has a good Riker-lean going on.

BF: It’s weird how the Ferengi are the go-to species in he first two seasons of #tng

CH: Holy good god! Quark just showed up! Wearing a massive chain of gold pressed latinum. The Ferengi are so bloody stupid.

BF: “ferengi” sounds like Italian for rotten pasta

BF: That’s right quark… Go back to the promenade and peddle your shitty mojitos #tng

CH: @bingofuel SPACE mojitos.

BF: Now Data is figuratively beating the piss out of Kolrami at Strategema. And that little bitch is a sore loser

BF: Data used the phrase “busted him up” proving that he is actually a lower middle-class urbanite with a penchant for douchebaggery

CH: This episode was so Riker-centric that @bingofuel grew a beard during the course of our tweets: http://twitpic.com/iepud

• Scott and I recorded and launched episode seven of the Unknown Studio last week. This show, we interviewed Dan Tencer, host of Inside Sports on 630 CHED. Dan’s a knowledgeable guy, and it was fun to spend an hour picking his brain. Thanks for being on the show Dan!
• Since Daveberta and I collaborated on the Ed Stelmach poster awhile back, we’ve finally settled on a concept for a Brian Mason poster. However, it’s tough finding decent hi-res, Creative-Commons-licensed pics of Mason. If you know where I can find any, please drop me a line in the comments.
• The NHL pre-season is officially underway, and in typical OilersNation fashion, one of our writers Wanye Gretz has selected his star and his goat for the year. Who will yours be? (I went with Khabibulin as my star and Staios as my goat.)
• On the podcasting front, I’ve been listening to friend Ramin’s podcast User Created Content over the last week (caught up on my most recent episodes!). Give them a listen if you’re into videogames. These boys have a great little show!
• I managed to track down a fantastic bottle of wine last week. It’s Argentinian: Fuzion Shiraz-Malbec. At $11.99 a bottle, you’ll be amazed how good this wine is! The real kick in the nuts, though, is that in Toronto you can usually find this bad boy for only $9. Damned privatized liquor sales!
• On the heels of Kanye West’s VMA outburst, you can now get Kanye to interrupt your own website, using Kanyelicio.us. I don’t care for Taylor Swift’s music, but Kanye’s just such a overbearing douche… Still, I love his music. So much internal conflict!
• And just because he was so well-behaved when I took some pictures of him this week, here’s Vinny the Husky doing what he does best: laying around, panting, and looking cute:

Oh sure, it’s thicker. But it’s a helluva lot thicker. Terrifying, actually, that I can grow hair this quickly. If rapid hair-growth counted as a superpower, I’d be Professor fucking-X… if Professor X had hair. Check it:

Taste the rainbow... and by rainbow, I mean beard.

The question now: How much thicker will it get? I don’t want to ZZ Top this mofo. However, certain key beard areas aren’t quite at the thickness they should be. But compare the above photo to my previous entry:

Who's this handsome devil?

Oh cool! That zit cleared up.

Ahem.

Yes, you get the idea. And that idea is facial hair. The question is, am I even remotely approaching the sexiness of this man? Only time will tell…

They call him Number One for a reason

My genetics endow me with the dubious quality of being able to grow facial hair at an alarming rate. The last time I shaved was August 31, 2009. At that time, I essentially looked like this:

Basically exactly like the image, actually. I think I even had cake in my high-chair that day.

Now, however, not even a week since, I’m more monster than man:

A five-day beard. Eat your heart out, ZZ-Top

Soon, the genesis of the Riker Beard will be complete… That’s part of the reason I’m doing this, see.

I’ll routinely grow back my facial hair maybe once every two years due mostly to laziness and cheapness — those Mach 3s don’t grow on trees. Because if they did, those trees would cut you. This year, however, Rachel and I have decided to really nerd it up for Halloween, and will go as the original Star Fleet power couple: Commander William Riker — whose cro-magnon tendencies routinely cost him the chance to command is own starship (Riker was truly a sap with no business commanding his own vessel, but damn was he ever handsome); and the meddlesome-though-pleasant Deanna Troi.

There, I said it. Now if we don’t dress like this for Halloween, I no longer have an excuse for my continued vagrancy.

Watch this space for more beard updates.

As the night progressed, Andy and I had fabulous barbecued pizza and Big Rock Lime beers, a decent happening for a Tuesday night. Oh, and we were treated to some really outstanding views. I snapped two pics of this beautiful building — one at dusk, and one at night. I just wanted to share both with you.

Democracy! With a dash of progress in the form of background cranes

Uh... Darkmocracy?

]]> http://theunknownstudio.ca/2009/09/democracy-can-be-beautiful/feed/ 0 http://theunknownstudio.ca/2009/08/missing-albertas-premier/ http://theunknownstudio.ca/2009/08/missing-albertas-premier/#comments Fri, 28 Aug 2009 19:22:12 +0000 Adam Rozenhart http://scientyst.wordpress.com/?p=517 Dave Cournoyer and I had beers last week. It was the beginning of something beautiful, as Dave filled me in on his take on politics in the province and country, and I told him why I am variously awesome. Dave’s a keen political observer, and though he’s been branded a lefty by some — because he once worked for the provincial Liberals — I see Dave as more of a post-partisan. He’s disaffected by all political parties, and particularly by the state of politics in Alberta.

And rightly so.

One of the topics Dave and I discussed over beers was where, exactly, Ed Stelmach had gotten to. No one has heard a peep from the man since the day he promised us that the beers Dave and I were consuming wouldn’t cost more on account of taxes — recession be damned!

We weren’t sure of the premier’s whereabouts, so we decided to put up “Missing” posters, imploring someone — anyone — who has seen Steady Eddie to let us know. Check it:

You can download the print-quality PDF here. Please print these off and post them all over your towns and cities!

I’m sure you’ve seen some of the major offenders yourself, “Indeed, methinks blah blah blah.”

The wonderful thing about the web is that the main method of communication is through writing. The terrible thing about the web is that it allows douchebags to experiment with language, and sound like complete and utter knobs.

Below is a shortlist of some of the words and phrases I’ve come across that are just so egregious that they should be banned from use entirely. And just so you know, I’ve been variously guilty of using all of these words and phrases myself.

1. “Methinks”: This is meant to be a humourous old English phrase. It’s supposed to be ironic. But over the last few weeks I’ve seen a half dozen or so people use this word completely unironically. The phrase you’re actually looking for is “I think,” unless you’re trying to be hilarious and it’s the 14th century.
2. “Indeed”: The definitions for this word are variously amusing. My interpretation of them is this: “indeed is a word used to emphasize that which has already been stated, and unless you’re a total knob, you actually never have to use the word ‘indeed’ unless you’re just trying to sound like a pompous douche.” Indeed, I suspect many of you already knew this. Yes indeed.
3. “The fact is”: This phrase really grinds me. I think nearly every time I’ve heard someone begin a statement with “the fact is,” I’ve discovered later that, in truth, the fact isn’t.
4. “I daresay”: Like human vestigial organs — the appendix or the tail — “daresay” is a word that should have been surgically removed from the English language about two centuries ago. Use of the word “dare” in this compound word hardly adds to the mystique. Instead of “venturing to say” something, just come out and say it. I dare you.
5. “Needless to say”: Really? Needless to say? Then don’t fuckin’ say it.
6. “In my humble opinion” (not to be confused with the infinitely better “in my opinion”): I find often — though not always — those individuals offering up their “humble” opinions aren’t very humble. People use this phrase to soften then blow of something they know people are going to vehemently disagree with. Don’t be so afraid to share your proud or overbearing opinion. You aren’t fooling anyone with this “humble” business.
7. “Just sayin’”: Yeah, clearly. By virtue of the fact that you’re saying it, we can see that you’re “just sayin’.” Still, thanks for pointing it out to us knuckle-dragging word-simians.

Needless to say, this post indeed makes me come across as a curmudgeonly jerk. I daresay many of you will disagree with me, but the fact is these are words and phrases that we should do away with. In my humble opinion, they make the writer sound like a douchebag, and methinks that harms a writer’s credibility.

Just sayin’.

Data the Enabler forces Scotty to imbibe.

Last week, Henderson and I wound up at the same dinner party, and wouldn’t you know it, but our gracious hosts were fans of the Trek. Since Henderson and I are shameless histrionic personalities, we live-tweeted the whole thing for an audience that exists primarily in our own imaginations.

Here’s what happened when we sat down to watch Season Six, Episode Four: “Relics”

ChrisHenderson: I like this episode. Riker has a beard. It makes me feel safe. Yet, extremely vulnerable.

Bingofuel: Riker, how would you know the value of the earth’s orbit around the sun, you mouth-breather?

BF: Ah yes, the Dyson Sphere: also known as solar bubble wrap. also known as Planet Condom.

BF: Like Worf’s going to be able to increase the oxygen level! He’s the security officer. Ask him to shoot something. LIKE THE EMITTER ARRAY!

BF: Geordi: “I’ve never seen a transporter jury-rigged like this before.” Me: “Technically, you haven’t seen anything before.”

CH: So, yet again, the Enterprise found something extremely dangerous and mysterious to beam down 3 of their 5 most senior officers to. SAFETY.

CH: Scotty is in this epi. He was stuck in a transporter. How did he gain all that weight, when he was broken down into his constituent parts?

BF: Scotty just looked at Worf like he had two heads. Or, you know, one really fuckin’ big misshapen one.

BF: I like how Scotty’s regaling Geordi with old engineering tales, and Geordi’s just, like, checking his text messages and shit.

CH: Scotty and Geordi are nerding out over ship engines. If they get stuck in the turbolift, they’ll probably be tempted to touch silly parts.

BF: Scotty, you’re 147 years old. TAKE IT EASY… and drink this bottle of whiskey.

CH: @bingofuel Geordi doesn’t find Scotty’s stories nearly amusing as listening to @souljaboytellem

BF: Geordi’s so 9-5. SCOTTY’S 24-7

CH: Geordi is annoyed and thinking about shipping Scotty to the USS Barack Obama, where old people have their fate decided by DEATH PANELS.

The USS Jenolan, aka the Little Ship That Could For As Long As The Enterprise Needed To Escape™

BF: uh oh, the scotsman just found the Bar of the Future™. Let the 3D drinking games begin!

CH: Apparently being a Lt. Commander also allows you to tend bar at 10-Forward, which, if I do say so, is the stupidest name for a bar ever.

BF: Scotty’s the Original Gangsta. No bloody “A,” “B,” “C,” or “D.”

BF: FUCK YES. Captain Picard is downing Aldebaran whiskey shots with Scotty. I want to go on a starship pubcrawl with them! SPRING BREAK

BF: How come no one ever goes into the holodeck and says, “Load the muthafuckin’ Tron laser-bike program, and disable the safeties, bitch”?

BF: Scotty’s hangover wisdom is first-rate!

BF: The Dyson Sphere conjures images of Miles Dyson, creator of the Terminator. My advice to the crew of the Enterprise: DON’T GO IN THERE.

BF: When has auxiliary power NOT failed, nameless ensign?

BF: Riker will see about getting main power back online. Probably by head-butting a computer terminal.

CH: @bingofuel I think it’s more likely that he’ll seduce it and then use his cold-hearted manliness to leave it yearning for him forevermore.

CH: Scotty laughs at everything Geordi suggests. Scotty is a damn racist.

BF: Scotty: “I never wanted to be anything but and engineer… an Ewan MacGregor’s body double in Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith.”

BF: Fact: the USS Jenolan is named after the Jenolan Caves in Australia. Booyah… uh, and prosper.

BF: New fact: the FORMER Jenolan… it was destroyed by the Enterprise. No respect for history.

CH: The Enterprise just shot the gap on the Death Star: “SISTA BE DRIVIN!”

CH: Geordi is the Chief Engineer OF MY HEART. Incidentally, I’m Admiral of my own bathtub.

BF: @ChrisHenderson I wish *I* had a bathtub admiral! SISTA BE BATHIN’!

This is the first it what will “hopefully” become a semi-regular series of posts… as long as @ChrisHenderson and I can find time to sit down and nerd the hell out… Mad thanks to the teams of monks at Memory Alpha, the finest wiki-reference for Trek on the whole planet.

First off, Venting is completely anonymous. And for a fairly credible media organization, I don’t think keeping an anonymous sniping section in their newspaper drives the credibility meter up into the stratosphere.

Second, it’s not quite like Twitter. I’d argue that while most of the people I follow on Twitter make nice (generally), Venting is a place for trolls. If people on Twitter act like dinks, there’s a real-time community there to put them in their place. A lot of people on Twitter also choose to identify who they are (like me), though not all people do this. There’s no mechanism in Venting to say to someone, “Hey, Ted from Fort Saskatchewan, who hates all people less than 5’4″ tall, that’s extremely dumb what you just said,” or “Wow, Steven from Holyrood, the level of qualified ignorance you just conveyed really makes me worry for future generations of the human race.”

In a way, though, having a Venting section is a somewhat democratic thing to do: open up the Journal’s pages to those not eloquent enough to collect their thoughts and write a proper letter to the editor. Give anonymous douchebags too cowardly to share their views and attach their name to them a street-corner soapbox from which to share their asinine vitriolic rants.

I’m sorry, but Venting is a tremendous waste of ink. It adds exactly no value to the Journal, and in fact takes it down a notch when you compare that (albeit small) section to the Journal’s other hallowed pages. Venting reads like the Edmonton Sun’s letters section: nasty, brutish and short.

I’d be happy to see the newspaper do away with Venting. Save that space for more local content, and let the trolls have at ‘er in the online comments section of the newspaper. Who knows, maybe a troll or two will amass enough brain matter (by proxy, of course) to write a proper letter to the editor denouncing local drivers and their inability to use turn signals; or the fact that smokers are, like, totally being marginalized and shit.

But what do I know? I guess I’m just venting.

What do you think? Should Google have ignored Bing entirely, or were they right to co-opt this functionality to stay competitive?

To all of you who wrote me during the airport debate I wanted to take this opportunity to get back to you and explain the choice that I made. I apologize for the group email but there were just far too many emails to respond individually.

I also apologize that I was not able to respond to you at the time but we were so deluged with correspondence arguing passionately both for and against that I could not respond at the time. I was able to read all of your emails as they came in and your arguments weighed heavily in my decision making, but I must apologize that I was not able to respond until now.

I know many of you are pleased with the decision made and many are deeply disappointed. I can assure you that none of us took the decision lightly. I for one am fully aware of the magnitude of the decision and spent a great deal of time researching the issue before coming to my conclusion.

The one thing I felt was most important was that I made my decision based on the long term future of the city and not on a short term window. To this end I wanted to get a clear sense of what the likely future was for aviation. I was lucky that during the recent ICLEI conference on future city sustainability we had transportation experts from across the world in the City and I took the opportunity to bend their ears on the subject. Their response was unanimous, the future for short haul, small aircraft flights such as could be served by the muni is not good. Transportation in fact is likely to move in the opposite direction.

The worst case scenario for me was always that we would continue to be indecisive on this issue. Many thought after the vote in 1995 that the issue was decided once and for all, but it seemed to come back every three years with arguments to reverse the decision to move all scheduled flights to the international. Every time it was re-debated it made it harder and harder for the airport to plan for any kind of future and for the businesses that were there to have any kind of certainty. At minimum I knew that whatever decision we made had to be clear.

It was also important, with the number of large decisions coming in the near future such as NAIT and the LRT, that we not make one decision today and then make a different decision three to five years from now.

I know many of you will disagree with me, but I have come to believe that for the long term future, a downtown airport is not the best use of that land. I suspect it would be used by fewer and fewer Edmontonians and ultimately would become a very expensive private airport. It was time to make a decision.

In so doing I also felt that two other things were critical. That if we were to develop the land it should be done by the City with an eye to coming up with a quality new district rather than an eye to just making a quick buck off the land. The fact that the City is the land owner and can plan and manage how it develops gives us the opportunity to do something truly remarkable. This has been guaranteed in the motion that was passed.

I also feel strongly that we must make an extra effort to preserve and honour the history of the airport on the site. I realize that we will not be able to do this in connection with a useable landing strip, but there are many other things that can and must be done to honour the many whose histories are embodied in that airport. I promise that I will fight hard to make sure that that history is recognized, supported and honoured.

And finally, although I had some hesitation with the motion to do it as a staged closure, for a number of reasons it is the best way to go. No future use of the airport will happen overnight, and there is no need to deprive those currently using the airport of its use until such time as there is a need to do so. That could be many years off before there is a complete closure. In the meantime the airport will be available to all who are currently using its runways. It also mitigates the negative effect on the businesses that have called the airport home by giving them more time to respond to the future.

This encapsulates my thinking on this issue. I know many of you agree and many of you disagree. It has certainly been the hardest decision I have been faced with while on Council. It is always scary to have to cast a vote like this because I am always aware that despite all the research done I may be wrong. The future cannot be perfectly predicted. But I felt the most important thing was to make a clear decision and I have done so with some strong belief that the right decision has been made.

Thank you again for your letters and emails.

Ben

Again, I was satisfied with the decision, and I’m glad to see that it wasn’t one that was taken lightly. Thanks for responding to my letter, Councillor Henderson

A further note: Councillor Henderson has informed me that he’s in the process of creating his own blog. I’ll write and tweet about that as soon as he says it’s up.

The Muttart Conservatory closed in March 2008, and underwent some fairly heavy-duty renovations. They didn’t actually open again until June 27, 2009. According to a press release from the City of Edmonton, a lot of the renos had to do with expanding instruction space inside the facility, and moving a new café and gift shop to the front of the facility.

More on the renovations from the release:

The $6.3 million project was completed on budget and funded by the Muttart Foundation, Provincial Government and the City of Edmonton.

• Muttart Foundation $600,000
• City of Edmonton $1,930,000
• Provincial Government $3,800,000 (Municipal Sustainability Initiative, $3,000,000; Major Community Facility Program Grant $800,000)

Post-renovation, the space looks wonderful. The front entrance features some of the most tasteful concrete work I’ve seen in a long time, which is surprising for a place that’s supposed to be all about plants. Here’s a picture of Rachel barely containing her excitement about our outing:

Brushed steel belies the greenery inside...

The Conservatory is laid out as four large glass pyramids with an enclosed courtyard in the centre. The courtyard section includes a café, gift shop, information and cashiers booth, a large seating area, and several classroom spaces (they have both wet and dry classrooms — wet, I think, for the planting experiments kids get to do).

The Edmonton sky through plate glass

Rachel and I decided to step into the “feature” pyramid, which the Conservatory changes up every now and then. While we were there, it was a jazz/music theme, with some really interesting art, including some giant, jazz-playing fish:

White men can't jump, but fish CAN play the saxophone

Admittedly, I found the space kind of hokey. Rachel and I both dug some of the artwork festooning the walls, but it didn’t feel like a terribly-well integrated display. Having said that, I have no idea how one should do a featured pyramid, and all the plants were still terribly beautiful.

The feature pyramid had lots of these little guys

Anyway, it was a great first choice pyramid to check out because everything just got better from there on in.

Next, we decided to check out the temperate pyramid, seeing how we were expecting the plants in there to be a little less novel. And while there were definitely some familiar plant-life, there was also a great deal of variety of temperate flora that wasn’t recognizable to us.

Strange, yet beautiful. LIKE ME

We then proceeded to the desert pyramid, figuring on saving the best for last in the tropical pyramid. There were all manner of cacti and oddly-shaped plants in this arid greenhouse. My favourite cactus was the one that resembled an owl:

A wise old cactus

Because I was using a macro lens, I didn’t take any shots of the whole pyramids. Just super-close-ups of plants. In hindsight, more expansive shots to give you an idea of the layout would have been ideal. But I’m selfish like that…

Rachel and I finished off our excursion in the very humid tropical pyramid. Huge plants and beautiful flowers surrounded us.

Size matters: this gives you some idea of scale

The Muttart is one of those attractions that, as an Edmontonian, I definitely take for granted. I hadn’t been to the Conservatory since I was in grade school, and though I don’t remember it all that much from back then, I’m dead certain that I didn’t enjoy it as much then as I did when we went there in July.

We will definitely be going back, only next time we’ll bring some food to take with us into one of the more serene pyramids so we can enjoy an indoor picnic that rivals some of the nicest outdoor spots in Edmonton.

Mack’s right, that’s exactly our problem: a severe lack of pride in our city because it isn’t something or someplace else. And this statement is one that doesn’t take into consideration the efforts of building Edmonton into a global city in the next ten to 20 years. I’m talking about efforts by individuals citizens, by groups of organized citizens, and even by politicians, though I’m sure the cynics among you might think otherwise.

When I was younger, I used to shit on Edmonton constantly. “There’s nothing to do here,” “Downtown’s dead,” “Whyte Ave is a slobbering drunkfest.” And this may have been true, ten years ago (often, sadly, Whyte Ave continues to be a slobbering drunkfest). But there’s plenty to do in Edmonton, and the tools to find out what’s going on are becoming more and more accessible thanks in part to individual citizens blogging and broadcasting about the goings-on here; the City itself is using social media and its own website to disseminate information to people.

For a city that was once known only for its hockey team or its giant mall, Edmonton’s changed quite a bit since my childhood. Or perhaps it hasn’t changed all that much. One thing that has changed, in my mind, are the number of people becoming engaged and involved in the way the city runs, and the way its cultural institutions integrate with other civic agencies and businesses. Individual citizens appear to be more engaged than ever before because of the ease of information flow thanks to the web, social media, and certain champions of the city who have decided to try and get the word out. And this is key.

From the time I graduated high school just over ten years ago until I graduated from University about six years ago, there was a steady bleeding of talented, smart Edmontonians seeking opportunities in other more progressive cities. They wanted to live in places where communities were active and vibrant, where they could walk to a corner market and buy produce, or head a few blocks down a street and find a festival or event taking place. These types of amenities don’t spring up overnight. It takes the effort and will of engaged and passionate people to build those types of things in their own communities.

Thankfully, since my convocation, there have risen individuals who’ve decided that enough is enough.

Edmonton can and should be a place where all of these amenities are available. We now have the Downtown Farmers’ Market, and our festivals are increasingly recognized as world-class (I loathe that phrase, but there you have it) and steadily growing in their sizes and scopes. Even the City itself is getting into the spirit of things, attempting to engage citizens and draw them our of their homes during the typically dead winter.

The thing to remember about all of this? These things take time.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Edmonton won’t become a centre of cultural diversity, business innovation, or a tourist destination up there with larger Canadian cities like Vancouver and Montreal overnight. I mean, it’s taken more than ten years for Jasper Avenue to not be completely devoid of life. And it’s not even half-way along to the bustling street it could be. But it’s moved forward, and it continues to do so.

And that is what people who see the potential of Edmonton are doing: moving the ball forward. Because we don’t want this just to be the city with a big fuckin’ mall. We want it to be a city that’s really great to visit, really great to live in, and really great in general.

We’re getting there, slowly and surely, thanks to passionate Edmontonians.

This is the third in a short series of posts about my family’s history, living in Canada as landed immigrants in the 1950s and 60s. You can read the second tale here, and the third one here. This particular series discusses my mother’s experiences living and working on a southern Alberta farm as a child. This will be the final post of this brief series.

There is a particular curse word in French that is quite vulgar when translated literally into English. However, the French no longer see it as such. It’s as common an insult in French as “idiot” is in English — it’s long taken on lesser connotations. If you aren’t sure what the word is, take a look at the first syllable in the word “connotations.” Maybe now you can imagine its English equivalent.

You’ll also find this word —con (pronounce like “cone” but the a very shortened “n” sound) — in the first syllable of the French word for jam: confiture. Georges, the beloved French farm-hand who worked for my grandfather when my family had its farm in southern Alberta, could not — nay, would not have breakfast without bread. And he would not have bread without his confiture. Mum and her twin brother René knew this. Knew it so well, that one morning, they decided to hide all the confiture.

So when Georges sat down that morning to help himself to breakfast — his bread and confiture — there was none to be found. Thus the question arose, “Où est la confiture?” Georges was asking.

“Oh, tu veux de la CONfiture?” came the response from the twins. “Je ‘n sais pas où est la CONfiture.” This particular emphasis and inflection was, quite sensibly, a great source of consternation for poor Georges. Georges le con. Not kind. And likely no help that my grandparents found that little gag particularly funny.

Georges eventually left Canada and headed back to France, though I think it had more to do with the fact that he really missed France. I don’t think Georges was integrating well in western Canada. I doubt the twins were helping much.

My mother and her brother stuck it out in Canada, though. Matter of fact, all my mum’s family did.

René steadily made his way eastward, stopping in Saskatchewan to join the RCMP, where he developed a deep-seated aversion to Shepherd’s Pie. He eventually found his way to Montréal, got married, had two children who are now in their 30s and worked as an RCMP member in charge of protecting federal politicians when they came over from Ottawa. He was front-and-centre during the FLQ Crisis.

René is a nationalist who guarded Pierre Trudeau and Jean Chretien, among others. Both of them, he says, were very nice, very cool people. Some other federal leaders — I’m sure you can imagine which ones — he doesn’t speak so fondly of. René (and his wife) is retired now and spends most of his time cycling and cross-country skiing in and around Montréal.

Mum stayed in Western Canada, in Alberta. She made her way up to St Albert, a bit of a haven for the French among the blue-collar anglophones in the centre of the province. She worked at a law firm, and eventually met my father, somehow convincing him not to become a priest. (I learned this fact about three days ago. Needless to say, a series on my father is in order.) Mum married dad in 1969, got pregnant in her first year of University and spent the next 25 or so years raising three boys, including myself.

I think she did all right.

Mum speaks with a clear fondness for the farm, but is happy to be a city girl now, where she has access to creature comforts she’s become accustom to. And all the confiture she would ever need.

This is the third in a short series of posts about my family’s history, living in Canada as landed immigrants in the 1950s and 60s. You can read the second tale here. This particular series discusses my mother’s experiences living and working on a southern Alberta farm as a child.

I wish I could say that my Mum and René left Georges be. But if they had, I wouldn’t have such tragic and funny stories to tell. So we plod on, and discuss some of Georges’ evening habits… and his fears (aside from the twin spawn of my grandparents).

When I last spoke with Mum and René, they told me and my brothers that Georges had a bizarre aversion to gophers. He didn’t dislike them as some people do magpies or mice. He was afraid of them. Evil vicious little things, he thought.

Naturally, the twins wanted to leverage this little-known fact. And since the last story I told you dealt with Georges’ morning routine, I’ll tell you a little bit about his evening routine.

It would seem, through some clandestine reconnaissance, René had discovered Georges’ method of getting into bed. The man liked to climb under the sheets, and jam his feet toward the foot of the bed underneath the covers. René’s mischievous brain conceived of putting a bunch of brushes into the foot of Georges’ bed just underneath the covers. Combine Georges’ foot-shoving behaviour with a fear of gophers, and you have a truly nightmarish way of falling asleep.

René found some brushes and did just that. These would be the gopher stand-ins and would help Georges’ learn the true meaning of terror. But what’s terror without pain? Nothing, according to my uncle. So he found a detached sledgehammer head.

He found it because on the farm, these things are always lying around somewhere. He also found it because he went out looking for it thinking to himself (en Français), “I’m going to find something very very hard — the head of a sledgehammer — and place it in Georges’ pillowcase.”

And that’s what he did.

And then it was bedtime. It actually never occurred to me to ask my mum if they went to bed early or late. I think it really depended on the time of the season. Sometimes you had to stay up late working and always you had to get up early. Georges was no doubt settling down for a good night’s sleep after a long day of back-breaking farm work and avoiding the twins. My mum and her brother were no doubt barely containing themselves in their own beds as they waited and listened for Georges to discover the gift they’d left for him.

From Georges’ perspective, and in my imagination, it went down a little something like this:

Position self on bed. Slide feet quickly into the foot of the bed under the covers. Feel something unusual brushing against feet, triggering thoughts of evil gophers. React by stiffening and slamming body very hard into the mattress… and pillowcase. Bash head on sledgehammer head that used to be a very soft pillow. Experience a combination of terror and extreme pain simultaneously. Nearly wet self. Hear laughter of irritating bugger children. Become enraged. Curse loudly in French.

Knowing what little I do know about Georges, I would imagine the poor man had a very awful sleep that night. Nightmares of some kind of terrible reverse Whack-a-Mole dancing over his brain. Désolé, Georges!

In my next post, I’ll tell you about how the twins were able to ruin Georges’ breakfast. And I’ll cap off this short series with some words on the kinds of things my uncle and mum have accomplished since their childhood.

I guess life on the farm is extremely routine and regimented. It has to be. Mum lived on a dairy farm in southern Alberta, near Lethbridge, for most of her childhood. I remember hearing stories about how awful the children in her school were to her and her twin brother René. You don’t speak the language, you’re different, and so you’re the object of extreme prejudice by the other — more Canadian, more normal — children. I count myself lucky I never had to experience anything like that. But whatever happened at school, Mum was lucky enough to have René, a built-in best friend. I can’t imagine what it’s like having a twin sibling…

In any event, school was soon forgotten when René and Mum got home, or when they had to wake up first thing in the early morning to milk the cows. Ever present, though, was their desire to bug poor Georges, the wayward Frenchman who never stood a chance.

Georges was a man of particular habits; he liked his toast his certain way and he liked his daily schedule his certain way. What he didn’t like were children, due in large part to my grandparents’ kids and their constant interference with his routine. This was a time before even television or the web. Kids had to occupy themselves somehow. René and Mum occupied themselves with disrupting Georges’ life.

Georges had a pair of slippers he always kept on the porch. In the morning, when he’d wake up, and before he had breakfast, Georges would go upstairs, open the door to the porch, step outside, slide into his slippers and keep right on walking, as though the slippers magically found themselves on his feet. Without a misstep, Georges was on his way.

Until the morning René nailed Georges’ slippers to the deck, my mother watching on, complicit in the whole scheme.

I imagine it a morning like any other, only this particular morning saw Mum and René on the edge of their seats at the breakfast table. And so it went: Georges hauled himself up the stairs, through the kitchen, out the door, onto the porch and into his slippers. However, on this particular morning, his full stride was stopped completely short. I imagine his thoughts of confusion as he tumbled face-first into the floor of the porch; an immediate sense of panic, turned to confusion, then realization at what was going on, then rage and some concept of whole was responsible — all before he experienced a great deal of pain.

Mum never mentioned Georges swearing, not with curse words, anyway. He’d say things like “Espèses de cons!” and “Mais qu’ils sont fous!” Nothing terribly earth shattering. But this time, the curses came fast and they came furious as Mum and René giggled until they were disciplined by their parents.

A single, solitary example of the life Georges led in Canada.

In my next post, I’ll tell you a little bit about my Mum’s discovery of Georges’ bedtime routine… and his fear of gophers.

And I know my parents have conducted themselves both wonderfully and questionably throughout their lives. That’s human nature. But my mother and her twin brother were always up to no good, particularly when they were children; particularly when they were new immigrants (moved here from France when they were just kids); particularly when they were living and working on my grandparents’ farm in southern Alberta.

Mum and René were, more often than not, up to no good. By their own admission, they reveled in scaring the living shit out of their nieces and nephews playing late-night hide-and-seek — my Mum’s eldest sister, herself a mother of ten, is about 15 years older than mum, which means Mum was an aunt at a very young age.

But Mum and René took particular pleasure in tormenting a Frenchman named Georges, who came to Canada one summer looking to work as a farm hand. The Canadian government hooked Georges up with my grandpa, himself a recent immigrant who spoke both official languages (Truly, I think he understood some English, and relied on his children to help him with the rest). I think the government figured on this being a simpler transition for Georges than sticking him with a bunch of English farmers, language barrier and all. What they didn’t figure on was a pair of mischievous French kids.

I’m a first-generation Canadian. Both of my parents are European immigrants who jumped on boats in the 1950s with their families (my father’s family with five children, my mother’s with ten!) and made their ways here to start new lives. My dad led a distinctly urban life, even when he lived in Holland. My mother was raised on a farm both in France and in Canada, though you wouldn’t know it now for her love of all things urban. I take a great deal of pride in my origins (and having spoken French my whole life, identify with that particular part of my heritage), and seeing my mother and her “beau frère” recount their childhood memories last weekend was nothing short of beautiful and inspirational.

Over the next few posts, I’m going to share with you some of Mum and René’s stories, providing context about their upbringing as it relates to their present dispositions. I recognize fully that my parents, my wonderful aunts and uncles, will not be around forever — another sad fact of human nature. I’ve always told myself I’d write a book about my family, since so many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins have such a diversity of experience and I tend to manage to drill down to the interesting bits of their life-stories. I hope you’ll join me over the next little while, as I discuss the poor Frenchman Georges, who didn’t stand a chance in my Home and Native Land.

It’s pretty unreal when you can put out an ad on a service like Craigslist or Kijiji and wind up meeting someone who isn’t a terrifying sociopath. When Scott and I needed a third person to move in — after our previous roommate Julie moved out to go travelling — we knew several things: our roommate had to be a girl, she had to be very patient, she had to like staying up late, and she had to be able to dish out the sarcasm and snide remarks that so constantly get floated about in this house. Turns out she was the perfect choice.

The whole adventure started when Scott and I were trying to determine precisely what we wanted in a roommate. We wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to converse with us and be more than just a person who shared our space. We wanted someone we could be friends with. We also wanted someone who liked to have fun every now and then, like go out on weekends drinking, or stay home chillin’ till late at night watching hilarious movies. So we put out an ad stating those things. We got several responses, but Clara was the first one to respond. We invited her over to view the house.

It was the end of August, and the sun was setting over the building downtown, casting an orange glow into the living room. Clara Moon Song (for that is her name) came to the door, dressed in a black halter top and mini-skirt — a deliberate strategy, we later found out, to win us over. We showed her her room, introduced her to the cat, took her through the house and then spent the next hour on the couch drinking wine and chatting. She had lived in Edmonton off and on for four years, and was in town taking car of her brother, who’d been injured awhile back (an injury which caused some brain damage). She wanted to live in the same neighbourhood as him, and our place was ideal.

We liked Clara immediately. Smart, confident, funny. The perfect roommate. We told her we had a few other people interested in the house and we’d let her know if she got it. This was, of course, a lie. But not an altogether evil thing to tell her, as Scott and I needed to discuss whether or not we agreed she should live with us.

It wasn’t much of a discussion. More like vigorous nodding.

I phoned her the next day and told her she could move in whenever she wanted.

Over the past year, Clara became a dear friend, confidante, and drinkin’ buddy. I got endless joy bugging her, making fun of her and annoying her. And boy, could she dish it out better than I could. She was so much fun to have around. Her last day at the house in Riverdale was Canada Day. I cried when she left. In front of about 20 people. But who cares? Our dear friend was leaving us.

I got an email from Clara earlier this week, telling us how much she missed us. I responded thusly:

The house isn’t the same without you, Moon Song. In fact, I’ve closed your bedroom door and there seems to be an unspoken understanding between Scott and I that no one is to enter that room. Meanwhile, the dishes keep piling up, and the backyard’s a mess. We’re waiting for you to come back in August and clean it all up.

I’m kidding. We’ll make Vinny the Husky do it.

Farewell to my Moon Song, who was always kind and equally mean when I needed it. I’ll miss you. I already do.

Our paths didn’t cross so much between then and now, but Scott and I managed to meet up a few times to discuss launching a podcast. We didn’t know what we were going to call it, we didn’t know what it was going to be about, but we knew we were going to do it. If it killed us or drained us financially (I doubt it will do either, but what’s a good yarn without poverty and death?).

Scott and I met twice over the period of a few weeks to hammer out the details. We decided the focus of the show should be, well, not very focused at all. We would discuss issues relevant to where we live (Edmonton), but that could mean just about anything. That’s the way we want it… a talk-show, with guests, that we find interesting. Our hope is that others will find it interesting as well. That remains to be seen.

Coming up with a name for our baby wasn’t easy. And now I think I know what it’s like to be a parent, minus the 3am feedings, shitty diapers, minimum 18 years of vigilance and discipline… OK I clearly have no idea what I’m talking about if I’m bringing parenting into this.

Still, in order to name our PodBaby (which, now that I think of it, would have been a hilarious name for the show), we enlisted the help of brainstormer extraordinaire, Mr Daryl Hooke. Among the list about about 20 ideas Daryl had, Scott and I really glommed onto “The Unknown Studio.”

So that’s what it’s called. We recorded our first episode at the iNews880 studios (where Scott) works over the weekend, and we’ll produce more, expecting to do one show every two weeks. It was a blast — huge thanks to Brittney Le Blanc, a web editor from iNews, for being our very first guest.

Scott and I are trying to line up more guests, and we have a ton of show ideas… But we could always use more. So if you have an idea for a show, drop some science in the comments section.

And before you leave, make sure you download our first episode!

I spoke with my dear friend @andrealown over Skype tonight about the re-purposing of a blog we created last fall in Toronto, this time with a sharpened focus and eventually visual identity and branding. But that’s not what I want to talk about in this post, because I also met with @scottybomb at Next Act for a beer and a discussion about the creation of a loosely-Edmonton-focused podcast which would feature local guests, and topics that we enjoy and think others will too.

Scott and I had mused about this several tweetups ago, when we had occasion to catch up from our commonly held days at the U of A‘s student newspaper, the Gateway. I’d expressed interested in starting a podcast, and Scott — having had experience producing several — was interested in doing one more consistently and covering his own personal interests.

Then we didn’t really talk about it for a few months.

BUT THEN we started talking about it a few weeks ago, and we were finally able to meet about it tonight. And if the stars align, in the next few weeks, we’ll have launched our inaugural podcast, which we’re hoping will include minor celebrities and other high-larity. But before any of that actually happens, the show needs a name. And we need your help.

We created a shortlist of names, that we certainly aren’t married to. We’d ask you to vote on your favourite, and if you think they all suck, suggest an alternative. Then it’s podcastin’ time!

[polldaddy poll=1691451]

Pal ‘o mine and blogosphere titan Dave Cournoyer was once told to govern [himself] accordingly when he was rather hastily threatened with all kinds of legal mumbo jumbo over the fact that he owned the domain name edstelmach.ca (read about the controversy here and here). It’s a phrase that gets kicked around hilariously still, every now and then, and one I used the other night on Twitter to chide the Alberta Legislature during the third reading of the much-publicized Bill 44.

My quote was used in a CTV Calgary story today. Which is cool. But the description of my profile picture wasn’t terribly flattering (nor, I should say, is the picture):

“note: #bill44 trending on twitter. The eyes of the world are upon #ableg. GOVERN YOURSELVES ACCORDINGLY,” warned Edmonton user Adam Rozenhart, who goes by the username bingofuel and has a crown of broccoli stuffed into his nose on his profile picture.

I expect no less than accurate reporting from the likes of CTV, which this certainly provides. And I chuckle every time I read my own descriptor. Yet I can’t help but think that it might be time to change my profile picture.

I have decided that I shall henceforth govern myself accordingly (h/t to big Davie C). As such, I’m taking requests for what type of legume or fruit should next grace my nostril. I will use this object in the taking of my next Twitter profile pic.

And please, nobody suggest the use of gourds.

Working for Ignition Media‘s been really exciting and extremely eye-opening. I started in January with the title Account Manager. However, it’s a small shop — only five employees plus the owner — so we all sort of wind up doing a bit of everyone. I’ve been trying to carve out my niche in new business and social media.

We’re trying to find innovative new ways to increase brand impressions for current clients, as we cultivate new ones. Of course, this has meant a lot of research into using Twitter, Facebook, and online games to try and increase traffic and enhance the overall user experience for client websites. We’re looking into the creation of interactive microsites for some clients, and just additional features on current sites for others.

I’ve been paying close attention to online games. Here are some that I find compelling, fun or just weird.

• My Brute: I talked about this site in a previous post. I’ve been playing it as often as possible and am trying to sort out a way to leverage the engine for monetization. I’ve leveled up high enough so that I started my own clan. The thing I really dig about this site is that it’s pretty simple, doesn’t require a lot of effort to play, and it provides incentives for the user to return every day by limiting the amount of times your character can fight in a 24-hour period.
• Spymaster: This showed up on Twitter last Friday, and although it can be a spammy (I’ve lost a few followers because of the updates it posts to my timeline), the amount of information you broadcast is completely up to you. Spymaster was created by the people at iList, and appears to just be a fun side project. However, I can see a lot of potential for this kind of mini role-playing game that leverages Twitter to promote itself and recruit players.
• Night Hunger: There’s a chain of restaurants in the States called Buffalo Wild Wings. They have a pretty hilarious flash website, and a series of awesome games as well. One of those games is a choose your own adventure style with hilarious animations and dialogues. You have to fight off scary beasts in your quest to find delicious hot wings. It’s pretty funny how clueless the character is. I’m not very good at this game because it gets really difficult after the third level, but I play it fairly often because it makes me laugh.
• Wing Wednesday Blazing Challenge: Buffalo Wild Wings was a bit of an inspiration for Ignition. We decided to develop a game concept for Hudsons Canadian Taphouse. You’re at a table of some stereotypically Canadian characters, and you’re attempting to steal their hot wings from them. The game launched last Friday. Now the key is to get people playing it, talking about it and sharing it with their friends.

We’re hoping that the creation of this game leads to more opportunities to create this sort of content. It’s fun, it adds layers of interest to a website & brand and, if successful, it could turn into more customers patronizing clients’ businesses. I’m interested to hear any ideas people have (or better yet, examples of) for online games that help promote a brand, a product or a service. Provide links and commentary!

As someone who considers himself schooled in the art of the English language — a riotously funny statement for me to make, but certainly well in line with how highly I think of myself — I can be pretty self-conscious about the words I choose, it turns out. Lately, in particular, I’m finding that I use certain meaningless, cliché words to express my sentiments over weighty things. Try describing to someone you’re really into them, without spending hours spewing douchey prose about flower petals and clouds and shit. Pick one word to describe why you’re into someone, like a significant other.

All I ever seem to come up with is “awesome.”

I use the word far too much, and am hyper-aware of it. So, for example, when explaining to Rachel why I like her so much, I find myself saying, “Dude, it’s because you’re awesome.” Now, my use of the word “dude” to address a girl notwithstanding, “awesome” is a terrible word to use, for one reason: it literally means “extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension or fear.”

Uh, right. Except, it really doesn’t mean that anymore, does it? The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are at least partly responsible for its change in meaning.

But still, let’s go with the according-to-Webster meaning in the scenario I raised two ‘graphs up. Why I like Rachel so much: “Dude, it’s because you’re extremely impressive. Or daunting. You inspire — perhaps simultaneously — admiration, apprehension, or fear.”

Somehow, I suspect my girlfriend isn’t going to find such a description particularly flattering. But it might not matter because, really, how much to I use the word?

Well, as probably the only real record of my use of language, let’s use the completely scientific Wordle tweet cloud image above. I use the word “awesome” enough that it appears in the cloud. I also say “really” and “bacon” a lot. And “dude.”

But I’m probably being too hard on myself for overuse of “awesome,” something that Rachel herself pointed out (and I should note that I will never apologize for excessive use of the word “bacon”). However, let me use this public forum to say that I am neither daunted nor apprehensive or fearful of my girlfriend. Not always, anyhow.

And as the Ninja Turles would say, she is awesome.

The Power Trio with Gord Steinke

Over a year ago, my business partner and I went to an Oilers game, as we sometimes do. It was there, after several crack-powered Rexall beers, that we happened upon Lynda Steele from Edmonton’s Global News. Lynda was selling copies of her book the Laptop Diaries. Having just launched OilersNation.com, we were looking for prizes to give away, and since the proceeds from Lynda’s book went to charity, we thought we’d buy a few and have her autograph them. A few means, like, seven, by the way. I had three left over, and being the random idiot that I am, I decided to give them away today by asking my Twitter followers trivia questions.

This was a truly random endeavour — as most of my Twitter wheelings and dealings are — but I was amazed at the response I got!

The first question I asked was spawned by a YouTube video of an acoustic version of Outkast’s “Hey ya.” I just asked everyone, “What’s cooler than being cool?” and received about 15 responses with “ice cold!”

I decided at that moment that I would give away all three copies of Lynda’s book today.

My next question was formulated with some help. Lynda told me she used to play hockey for the Hinton Jets, and I really wanted to stump people. So for the second book give-away, when I asked which hockey team she used to play for, no one got it. I posted a new question: “Where did Lynda grow up?” This one got lots of fast responses, most of them correct. Lynda was born in Edmonton, and grew up in Hinton. I had a lot of people suggest she grew up in Vancouver as well…

The final question was about Lynda’s co-anchor, Gord Steinke. I’ve always known Gord was a rock ‘n roller, but I haven’t kept up too much with that side of his career. As a final question, I needed Lynda’s help again: “What’s the name of Global News co-anchor Gord Steinke’s band?” This one stumped tweeps as well, so I had to go with a different question: “What US city did Gord work as a reporter/anchor in before coming to ITV in Edmonton?” The answer is: KSTP Minneapolis, which tweeps were able to figure out almost immediately.

Congrats to @seanhealy, @britl and @angelzilla for winning signed copies of Lynda Steele’s “Laptop Diaries” — and by the way, they’re all made out to “OilersNation” Ha! — I’ll arrange to get you your prizes as soon as possible. Thanks for playing! If I happen upon more swag, via beer-fueled NHL games or otherwise, I promise to hold more random contests.

Oh, and I will definitely be treating @adampatterson and @frostedbetty to drinks one of these days…

I wasn’t going to write about this… Didn’t see the need, didn’t want anyone to reassure me, don’t need it. I STILL don’t need that. So if you’re reading this, please, immediately realize this: I know I’m not the only person to go through something like this, and I’m not writing about it to elicit sympathy. I’m writing about it to sort out my own thoughts and feelings about it. This medium just happens to be public, and I happen to be OK with that.

This is for me, not you. Just count yourselves lucky you get to peer through the looking glass into my life. Yes, I’m being tongue-in-cheek. Seriously, I’m OK. Read and be entertained or horrified. I expect nothing more or less.

At the end of March, I took a road trip to the west coast with my best friend. It was definitely epic, fraught with hilarity and, quite often, Doritos. We spent some time in Vancouver, among other places, where I got to reconnect with my erstwhile French-Canadienne cousine. She described to me how her parents are doing (her dad — my mum’s twin brother, a thoroughly delightful and stubborn French-born European man — is an amusing topic of conversation for both of us), and how she’s been enjoying living in VanCity since she moved out there about two years ago from Montréal.

We had breakfast together with a group of friends at the Zen Café in Kitsilano. As she was telling me about her parents’ retirement and such, her expression changed to one of anger.

“Get this,” she tells me, recounting her recent summer trip to Scandinavia. “While I was away, Dad had a stroke. And he didn’t tell me until TWO MONTHS after,” she said, clearly enraged, “because he didn’t want to ‘ruin my travel plans.’ Can you fucking believe that?” she asked me, her French accent clearly accentuated by her rage.

“That’s insane,” I said, telling her that if my father did something like that, I’d gladly tear him a brand new one and demand that he thank me for the experience.

My uncle’s OK, and taking all the necessary medical advice, getting tested, etc. In short, his stubbornness gave way to a more pragmatic approach to existence. At the behest of his entire family (and no doubt his own well-formed and often-firing synapses), he’s getting the medical help he needs to ensure his lifestyle is conducive to longevity and not, you know, more strokes.

At the end of our road trip, on our way back to Edmonton, we stopped off at my parents’ house in Calgary, as the way from VanCity is long. The morning we were leaving Cowtown and headed back to the ‘Chuk, I shared my cousin’s story with Mum and Dad, channeling her indignation and revulsion at her father’s failure to share his malady with the people to whom he means the most. My dad smiled perceptively.

“Well, son,” He began. I grinned, thinking some hilarious quip would be imparted to me. “I, uh, I had a stroke too, just a few weeks ago.”

WHAT? I looked over at my mum, who nodded slowly with an expression that said, “Yeah, he’s not bullshitting you, kiddo.”

“Uh… WHAT?” I asked, my mouth deciding to play catch-up with my brain.

“Yeah,” Dad continued. “We were driving home one day, and when I parked and went to get out of the car my right leg wasn’t working properly.”

At this point, my mother starts laughing and says, “He was clomping his foot on the floor of the garage like a horse, or something.”

Now, I don’t know how much bad news you’ve received in your lifetime. If you’re approaching your 30s, as I am, I’d wager you’ve heard your share of wonderful and devastating news. Oftentimes, there isn’t any other way to deal with it than tears. Or disbelief and agape expressions. Or in the case of my morbid family, outright laughter.

Dad laughed, “Yeah, it was so weird. I just couldn’t step down properly.”

“Well… are you OK? I mean, was it serious?”

I’m a idiot: a stroke is always serious. My father’s blood pressure on one side of his body was absolutely through the roof. On the other side, it was perfectly normal. The doc called it a mini-stroke, which I think is doctorspeak for an “it-could-have-been-worse-but-is-still-a-really-fucking-serious-and-probably-life-changing” event.

“So,” I continued. “You were stomping your foot on the garage floor? Like Clever Hans working out a math problem?”

Mum just laughed again. “Are you OK? I mean, what next?” I asked.

Dad explained that he’d made an appointment with a stroke clinic to make sure he’s doing all the right things — from now on — so he’ll be around for awhile. He seemed fine to me. I mean, his hand-writing was a fair sight messier than before, but other than that, Dad was Dad. Normal dude, still making the same inappropriate comments as his children, still attracting the scornful and bemused looks of his wife of 40 years…

That was at the end of March.

Mum and Dad were in town this weekend for my future sister-in-law’s wedding shower. I went over there after the shower to join my entire family — both of my brothers, their spouses and my parents — for a BBQ… and I couldn’t help but feel that my dad looked… feebler.

And I don’t know if he was. Probably not.

He had the same energy, same disposition, same awful commentary. But he wasn’t quite so… I don’t know. There was less of him. He was diminished. And I haven’t really had the chance to parse my own perception, but this is how I felt: like I couldn’t hug him too hard, or rough-house him as usual. And the worst of it is that whether this perception was accurate or not, if he was reading this he would be pissed. Pissed that I would see him differently as a result of a “mini-stroke.”

But there are no such things as “mini-strokes.”

This whole viewpoint was probably exacerbated by my aunt — Dad’s half sister — a thoroughly wonderful woman, whom I love dearly. She phoned me last week, while I was climbing into the car to head home from work. She told me she’d heard about Dad’s “mini-stroke.” She proceeded to reassure me that he was going to be fine, that — after all — he was going to a clinic and getting checked out, and getting the best advice from the best doctors in the Foot Hills. I really didn’t feel like I needed this. Because a mini-stoke isn’t that serious, right? But after awhile, I became more troubled…

My aunt had more information than I did. Foot Hills? Clinic? What?

I was annoyed. And confused. Was this serious enough that I needed reassurance from her? Did I need to have some fear allayed, told that Dad would figure out how best to deal with this?

It hadn’t occurred to me that this was that serious. But it was. It is.

I don’t know if I saw Dad differently on the weekend because he actually was different or if it was because I was different. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the stakes have changed. Like it or not, my parents are getting older, and they’re entering that stage of their lives where things can go one way or another very quickly. We’re fortunate in that my family’s medical history isn’t terribly storied. Aside from a few blemishes here and there, we’re a long-lived, healthy bunch. Small comfort, I suppose, and most definitely besides the point.

Am I worried about Dad? Sure I am. I only have one, after all, and I’d very much like for him to stick around — and not just to lavish attention on me and my future accomplishments, but as a foil, a confidante, a friend, and a support. It’s easy to dismiss our parents as lacking the understanding to really “get” us. But their experiences at reckoning the world and their place within it isn’t so different than ours, though the times and tech have changed.

I want both my parents to stick around as long as possible. Obviously.

Who else is going to subtly hint at me that I’m doing everything wrong?

The point of this writing isn’t to illicit sympathy or words of reassurance. I’ve had enough of that from family (but seriously, thanks for thinking of me and reading this far).

Nor am I here to impart some new wisdom you haven’t heard before. I’m just putting things together for myself…

The point is this: (and I don’t care how cliché it sounds) call or go see your Mum and Dad and remind them that, in spite of it all, you really do appreciate their assistance with — you know — BEING BORN, and that even though you don’t always agree with them, and sometimes they just don’t fucking get it, you really really do appreciate all the things they’ve done, the sacrifices they’ve made for you, and the wonderful and varied flaws that comprise their characters. Tell them you love them, in no uncertain terms.

Seriously, they need to know. Parents need reassurance as much as we do. They’re just as flawed, just as fragile, and just as human. Even if they’ve always seemed larger than life.

Love you, Dad. Be well.

Just to bring you a bit of jesus-egg-day cheer, after tweeting about how much I hate Tim Hortons coffee (which I do) I failed to pour said coffee into my mouth, instead looking down in horror as drips of the horrible brew smashed down upon my desk in what seemed like slow motion.

To be fair, it wasn’t entirely my fault. It was one of the designers. He came past my desk and threatened to sneeze on me. This resulted in the cessation of all functioning in my lower lip. For some reason.

Anyway, gloat all you want. At least that’s several more drops of this shite coffee I won’t have to drink.

Top three tabs among my tweeps

1. Gmail & Twitter tied for first (13/23 respondents)
2. Facebook (8/23 respondents)
3. Google Reader and iGoogle tied for third (6/23 respondents)

Commonalities and Observations

• Every single respondent had a Google site open throughout the day. Gmail, Reader, News, Docs, whatever. We are, everyone of us, Google whores.
• At least one other twit keeps an OilersNation tab open, like me.
• Two respondents always have the Environment Canada site open — the same two always have CNN open.
• Two respondents indicated they typically use RSS Feed Readers to surf the interwebs.

And some other things…

If you responded and said you used a non-browser app to interface with Twitter, I didn’t include you in #1 above. However, it’s fair to say that nearly everyone who responded indicated that they always have Twitter open in some form on their computer.

I asked people which 3-5 five tabs they keep open all day. In total, between 23 people, we had 88 browser tabs open, or 3.83 tabs each.

Who cares?

Well, I do, obviously. I was just curious, because I always have three tabs open: Google Reader, OilersNation.com’s Admin interface, and dub5.net. Oh, and some days I keep Google News open.

Finally, doing polls like this on Twitter is fun, and I plan to do more and publish the results just for fun. It’s always interesting to see who responds.

Given the proliferation of wireless devices — iPhones, iPods, wi-fi-enabled smartphones, and of course laptops — it still floors me when I go into a service-based business like a restaurant or coffee shop and there either isn’t a wireless signal at all, or there’s a locked signal, or — and this is the worst — you’re expected to pay for wireless access.

Really? Pay for wireless?

Let’s talk about competitive advantages. I know of at least a dozen individuals who choose where they’re going to eat or drink based on whether or not there is free wi-fi, particularly @SirThinks and @out_inc. And I can’t say I blame them. Awhile back, @ChrisLaBossiere said that charging individuals for use of a wireless connection would be like adding a line item to their tab that says “Lighting,” or “Heating.” Wireless connections have, whether you like it or not, become so ubiquitous — and indeed for some people, so necessary — that business owners who charge for it are pricing themselves out of getting more customers through their doors.

I often meet clients in bars or restaurants. I often have to do something with my computer — either show them a website that we’ve created or point them to an image or film clip. Why do this in a restaurant? Because some meetings are better run when people are relaxed, feeling a little casual, and putting some food in their bellies. It isn’t necessary to starch a shirt and sit all glassy-eyed in a boardroom. At least, it shouldn’t be.

But it’s not just about meetings. Data network connections for mobile devices are still pretty pricey (at least in Canada), and free wireless allows people to use their devices without worrying about over-using their accounts’ data limits.

I mentioned competitive advantages… By way of example, consider the fact that a lot of people on Twitter are connectors. Giving these people access to the tools to connect to their social nets freely could be a boon to business: it could put more butts in seats, more warm bodies in your business and mean more money in your cash register. It’s crowdsourced free advertising, and it’s achieved by giving your customers free internet access.

However you feel about the debate on free access to information is irrelevant. If you want my business, open up your wi-fi connection, or I’ll happily eat and drink someplace else.

Fortunately, in Edmonton, there are some really excellent people trying to promote this notion. Check out the Free WiFi project for more details.

The very excellent Shauna of @out_inc fame is blaming me for her own coffee inadequacy. To wit: “BAHH! Coffee FAIL @bingofuel keep your Coffee bad juju on your end of the city please, thank you ”

Now, I’m not going to pretend what “juju” means, but I know I don’t like being blamed for Coffee FAILs that are not mine. So, Shauna, you can take that coffee and LOVE IT.

Also, I spilled coffee today as well. It just hasn’t been a great week for me. But this time, I blame the Tim Hortons cup manufacturing process. Glue came unstuck. And I didn’t even win a free coffee.

I promise I’ll write an actual blog of consequence sometime this weekend. In the meantime, go scald yourselves.

This time, it was like I was drinking more than the capacity my mouth-hole would allow. Coffee spilled over the sides of my mouth and onto my desk, thankfully not ruining the very fabulous nerd shirt I’m wearing today. I blame the lid on this cup of coffee for this most recent fail. Also: my own ineptitude.

Today, the spillage took place at approximately 10:30am. I soiled my green hoodie and my “I’ll be Bach” T-shirt. I was made fun of by @britl, @hules, and several others.

Incidentally, for me the image showcases the crowdsourcing power of Twitter. @Foomanizer created this because he read my tweet and was bored. I got a response to my call for a CoffeeFAIL Whale image within an hour. Unreal!

If there’s anyone out there who thinks they can improve on the design, please have a go. CoffeeFAIL must not persist, but it will, so let’s at least make it amusing.

It’s a rare thing to come across a company with exemplary customer relations. Oh sure, sites like The Consumerist help to keep businesses in check, but quite often those businesses pegged as unscrupulous or negligent undertake damage control to manage their reps rather than proactively serving their customers. It’s a sorry state of consumerism, but a reality many of us have come to accept.

Sweet shit, it sure doesn’t have to be this way. And today, when I got home from work I was confronted with a new reality: not every business is a bag of douche.

Before Christmas, I ordered three T-shirts from Glennz Tees. They have outstanding designs for T-shirts, and I came across them through an ad on Boing Boing (I think). In any case, my shirts arrived, they fit perfectly, and they always elicit great reactions from the people who see them — mostly laughter or expressions of “you’re such a geek.”

Today, when I went to check the mail, there was a package for me, and I caught a glimpse of the Glennz wordmark before I opened it. To my surprise, it was a single T-shirt with the exact same design as one of the other ones I’d ordered a month and a half ago. Weird, right?

The T-shirt was wrapped around a thick card. The front of the card featured the same graphic as on the T-shirt, and the following words:

Hi, We fear that you may have received an “It’s a Bottle, Jim” shirt that had two of the blues reversed during the printing process. Please accept this corrected shirt with out apologies. Thank you for shopping at Glennz! (If your original shirt was fine… well, now you’ve got two great shirts.

I didn’t notice. Probably wouldn’t have. Ever. Other distinguishing consumers might have seen it, and this is probably one of the reasons why Glennz sent the other shirt. But it also demonstrates a pride they take in the quality of their merch, in their customer relations, and in generally being better than most other companies out there, who’d have turned a blind eye, or waited for someone to complain.

I’m sure there are lots of businesses out there who treat their customers well, and who go above and beyond. I’ve not come across many. Glennz is one of the very few.

**UPDATE**: I sent an email to Glennz.com, thanking them for being awesome. Glenn Jones, the NZ designer who creates all the T-shirts responded to me personally. Here’s what he had to say:

Hi Adam

Ive seen your blog post, and it was much appreciated.

Yes the print error was noticed internally a little while after that shirt was reprinted during the christmas rush. Although we never had any consumer feedback about the error, we do take alot of pride in the quality of our product and we made sure that all who received that wrongly printed shirt have been sent a replacement, which we think was the right thing to do

Thanks firstly for your order, and for your email

Glenn

<3

• There’s a place in BC called Hudson’s Hope which, for me, evokes images of Hadley’s Hope Terraforming Colony on LV-426 from the Aliens movie. I imagine a town of more-or-less happy British Columbians who occasionally suffer the effects of monsters busting open their rib cages.
• This Lil John mashup is awesome; this recommended video I received at the end is not.
• I don’t know what peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have to do with SEO, but PBJ is defined on this SEO terms page for some reason. So is sausage link — cute.
• I absolutely love TweetStats. @missmarsh introduced me to it. Wordle is also rad… Creates some really excellent artwork!
• You know those road signs that tell you the bridge it out? Yeah, here’s how to access them to change their messages (via BoingBoing).
• Uh, what the hell?

Cullite Creek wasn’t a particularly nice spot. It was a beautiful location, but we arrived at the end of Day 6 with the wind sweeping through the cove and up and creek making it less than ideal. We immediately erected our giant tarp as a wind shelter, but we also weren’t located in the best camping spot. When we arrived on Day 6, we were so hungry that we ate two meals for dinner—having already planned to exit the trail on Day 8 instead of Day 10.

We broke camp rather quickly in the morning, knowing full well that the ground we had to cover to get to Thrasher Creek would all be overland. In order to make it around Owen Point—which was the beach route—we would have had to beat the tide and hop larger-than-life boulders as well. Julia had done this part of the trail before. This time we were going to skip it. It’s supposed to be an amazing part of the hike, but very challenging. We figured the overland trail would be less technical. You’d think after seven days on the trail we’d not have been so naïve.

At this point in our trip, we were taking on the most challenging portion of the West Coast Trail, a full 13 km worth. We were tired, we were hungry, and the weather wasn’t particularly nice—overcast and always with the threat of rain. I would say that Day 7 and the beginning of Day 8 marked the lowest point of our trip, in terms of emotion and exhaustion. We were reaching our limits and most of our discussion (what little of it there was) during the walking parts of our days turned to nachos and beer.

(Me, after hauling ass across Camper Creek in a cable car)

Day 7 was challenging, frustrating, and de-motivating. Already tired, we were forced to hoist ourselves and our packs over massive fallen trees, balance on those same trees, move around uprooted plants… This was some of the slowest going on the trail. And by the time we arrived at the 70 km point, which marked the fork in the road to continue to the end of the trail (at the 75 km mark) or head down to the beach at Thrasher Creek, we still had a minimum of one km to hike.

We stopped briefly at the 70 km sign and applied a lot of bug spray. The air was still, the sun blocked by the forest canopy, and the mosquitoes were plentiful. At this fork in the trail we met a trio of hikers—a elderly guy, probably in his 60s, hiking with his grown sons. As we applied our spray and watered our dry mouths, they proceeded up the one km switchback trail to Thrasher, a trail soaked by tiny streams of water, flat, slippery stones, and hidden roots.

We followed and pass the two sons soon enough, crested the trail and began our descent toward the ladders that would eventually take us down to the beach. As we approached the ladders, we watch the elderly guy take a spill, which seemed like not such a big deal. As we approached to assist him, he was breathing through his teeth and rubbing his left knee.

“I’m OK,” he told us, though the expression on his face belied his words.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand,” we asked him.

“No, no, I just need to catch my breath, stretch out my knee and walk it off,” he said. He wished him luck, mentioned that we saw his sons not too far behind us, and started our descent.

I wish there was something we could have done to help the man, but he seemed fine. He’d just need to tread lightly the next few days so he did exacerbate this injury. He climbed down (more bloody) ladders, and found our friends Sandy and Kat again. They warned us that the tide liked to creep right up to the camp site here at Thrasher, and Kat then showed us their second-choice campsite right next to the creek just off the beach. We appreciated that our few-days-old friends were so eager to help us. We setup, ate, and crashed. We were exhausted and eager to exit the trail. After Night 7, only 5 km to go.

Day 8 – The Final Haul

Sunlight, and a strong desire to leave the trail grip us in the morning. I get up first, and make for the composting toilet, picking up our food from the bear locker after I’m done. Who do I see limping down the beach but the elderly guy who took the fall the previous day. In that condition it’s doubtful he’ll be able to continue the hike. He’s not just limping a little, he’s limping A LOT.

We ate a quick breakfast, both agreed it was time to leave, and out to hike the last six km of the trip, and some of the toughest as well. This portion of the trail was a CONSTANTLY up and down. Consequently there was no fast-moving, easy walk. This was a HIKE and the kilometre markers seems much further than 1 km apart.

I don’t recall talking very much at this point except to snap at each other. A bit. We took very few pictures, as the goal was just to get ‘er done.

Around the 73 km mark, we started seeing fresh, new, clean hikers arriving on the trail. They were very encouraging to us. Lots of “You guys are almost done,” and “Great job!” was heard. I being the grouchy dude I was (am?) thought about how funny it would be to tackle each of those people, sit on them, and then shout at them about how hard the trail is while I force them to sniff my armpits.

But I didn’t do that. Because I’m BETTER than that.

By the time we reached the end of the 6 km, we were bagged. We photographed our dirty boots, called the ferry driver, and checked in at the trailhead office. There, we discovered the elderly dude who was limping around actually had to be EVACed from the trail. He and his sons were fetched from Thrasher by a zodiac, and they were being brought back to the office. The man’s wife and presumably one of his daughters was on-hand and we had a chance to tell them about how we witnessed his little fall.

Apparently, they were going to keep going, slowly, and hike the trail anyhow. But the guy aggravated the injury when he went to fetch water from the creek. It was pretty sad, actually. He became, I think, the 22nd person at that point in the season to be taken off the trail. It definitely made me feel fortunate that I didn’t take a bad step. I probably fell over a few times because I was tired and carrying a heavy pack, but nothing serious. It made the triumphant end of the hike a little more somber. At least he was going to be OK.

And who has time for somber anyway, when there’s a pub in Port Renfrew waiting for us. A pub with hamburgers and, you know, food that isn’t freeze-dried.

The warden in the Parks office called us a cab. And by cab, I mean a dude with a pick-up truck who apparently shuttles hikers back and forth between the town and the trailhead office. He kindly dropped us right in front of the pub, where we spent the next four hours drinking and waiting for the bus back to Victoria. Kat and Sandy were in the same spot as us, so we said our goodbyes.

At around 4pm on July 3, 2008, we left Port Renfrew, and bid the West Coast Trail farewell. We were stuffed (from the pub), buzzed (from the pub), and exhausted (from everything else). We slept the entire ride back to Vic, and would spend the next three days reintegrating with society at or near the Inner Harbour. As the days from the end of our hike increased in number, the vow we shared to not return for a long time seemed more and more ridiculous. Personally, I will be back on the WCT inside of five years. This trail, this section of VanIsle is probably some of the most beautiful, powerful scenery in all of Canada. If you’re thinking about hiking the WCT, stop thinking and start planning.

And yes, the nachos taste so much sweeter when you’ve had to haul ass through 75 km of beach and forest wilderness with your home and all your belongings on your back.

-fin-

>> the rest of the trip:

• Part I
• Part II
• Part III
• Part IV
• Part V (you’re here already)

The morning at Bonilla was cold, and wet. Today we would push ourselves. A discussion at some point that morning brought us to the realization: we eat too much. Or rather, the food we’d planned to bring wasn’t lasting us as we thought. We needed energy, and lots of it, to clear the next 27km. Hiking this thing in ten days, as originally planned, wasn’t going to happen if we were expecting to eat at all the last few days. So on Day 6 from Bonilla point, we would hike 11km to Cullite Creek, if we didn’t feel like killing ourselves when we arrived at Walbran campground, only about 5km down the trail.

We hiked the soft, wet sand along the trail to Vancouver point, just as the tide made our way on the beach impassible. We made for the overland trail: damp roots, high steps, wetness.

I recall this part of the trail being tough and discouraging. Just endless up and down. We came across about a dozen hikers who all said the stay at Walbran would be lovely. But we’d arrive there by late morning, and staying the day wouldn’t work with our food supply. We stayed at Walbran for a snack. It was a lovely camp ground, though, pushed slightly inland and defended by tall rock sentries at either end of the beach. We checked out the Walbran Creek “office” before we continued  down the overland trail, past Logan Creek and up to Cullite, which would end up being miserably cold and windy.

This part of the trail is best summarized photographically with roots, overland boardwalk and exhaustion due to cable car:

And so when we arrived at Cullite, we hunkered down for the night. Tomorrow, Day 7, would be our last full day on the trail, and we were soon to learn, the most challenging section of our hike yet. There would be a lot of snapping at one another, grunting, and constant use of words beginning with “f”. I’m going to leave Days 7 & 8 for the next installment of “The Wet Coast is the Best Coast.”

>> see also:

• Days 0 & 1
• Days 2 & 3
• Days 4 & 5

It’s hard to leave a place you completely fall in love with. It’s hard, knowing you might not ever see a place again. That was my struggle to leave Tsusiat Falls the morning of our fourth day. We spent two days in this magical place, where a rush of fresh water tumbled into a small pool, which eventually meandered its way into the Pacific Ocean. But we had to leave. The reason for our journey wasn’t to stay, but to carry on and hike all 75 kilometresof the West Coast Trail.

We awoke at about 5am, the sun barely a glimmer on the horizon. The steady sound of the falls played us through our morning routine: a jump across Tsusiat creek to the other side of the beach, to the composting toilets. Wash up, pack the tent, roll up the sleeping bags, eat. We needed to leave before the tide climbed above 2.1 metres, otherwise we’d have to hike the overland trail and miss the incredible sight that is the Hole in the Wall at Tsusiat Point.

As we hiked out of the site, crouching beneath massive pieces of driftwood I cried, something I couldn’t believe I was doing. I cried because I knew it would be many many years before I would see this place again, wade through the cool, fresh water, sit on a rocky stump and watch the grey whales breach way off in the distance. Julia looked puzzled, but the glint in her eye told me she understood how I felt. In a perfect world, we’d have made our lives here, greeting hikers and saying goodbye to them as they passed through the campsite to conquer the trail.

We said goodbye to Tsusiat at about 6am and headed toward the Point, stepping past the footprints of three hikers who’d left earlier than we had.

The hike to the Hole in the Wall was about two kilometres, made easy by a soaked beach which supported us and the weight of our packs. We were treated to the sights of eagles perched on rocky outcroppings, and the zooming past of fishermen’s boats anchoring themselves off the shore and fishing for halibut in the cool, rough waters.

When we arrived at Hole in the Wall, we knew we’d made the right choice by suffering an early-morning wake up. We passed through a giant rock hole, around which the water lapped furiously into the sand and rock, splashing mist upon us. In the distance, a sentry eagle watched schools of unseen fish swim past. He was gathering his strength for the day’s hunt.

We walked fast through the overland trail after we left the beach, through damp forest and Aboriginal reserve land to a tidal lake called Nitinat. Nitinat Narrows are too deep to wade, the current too strong. We waited for a boat to come and take us to the other side. When it finally did, after only a fifteen minute wait, we managed a quick rest before we trudged through the bog on the other side. Boardwalks were half-buried and broken along the way, and our gaiters barely kept our socks dry. But the mud slowed and tired us. By the time we mounted a cliff overlooking the ocean, we were beat. And we still had another seven kilometres before we could stop.

On our way through the bog and up the dirt paths, we met a group of hikers being followed by a dog named Charlie Parker (we weren’t to discover his name until the next day, so we just called him Dexter). Charlie met up with us at the end of the day, at Cribs Creek campground. He spent much of the evening walking up the beach with us. When he grew bored, he set off further down the trail. We wouldn’t see Charlie again on our journey.

Day 5

Another early morning on Day 5, as we attempted to beat the hot sun. This day, it wouldn’t matter as we would be covered by cloud with the threat of rain all day. This would be an easier day for us, though. Not covering 16 kilometres, like the previous day. This was a day of grace, not unlike our two-day stay at Tsusiat. But the eight kilometres we would cover this day wouldn’t be easy, as the lack of sun contributed to a subdued mood.

From Cribs Creek, we made our way about two kilometres to a point on the beach leading into the overland trail via a series of ladders, rather than concern ourselves with a great deal MORE stairs and ladders at the base of the Carmanah Point Lighthouse. This bit of forest hiking was damp, full of roots and technical stepping, which made for some exhausting going. When we arrived at Carmanah, we took a few photos, mused about what it must be like to live and work at a lighthouse on the trail (according to the board posted at the entrance to the lighthouse grounds, living there is nothing short of “awesome”) and kept going.

About one kilometre after the lighthouse, we found ourselves at Chez Monique, a makeshift home belonging to Monique, who’s lived on the trail for around 19 years. She’s argued long and hard with the government to stake her claim on the West Coast Trail, and she is appreciated by hikers wandering along the trail from both directions. She offers gourmet hamburgers and delicious breakfasts (including beer) for a hefty price. Julia and I could only afford a chocolate bar each.

It turns out Charlie Parker belonged to Monique. He wanders up and down the trail and only comes home when he gets hungry. This is complicated by the fact that hikers will often feed him (not us, though. We didn’t have a bit of food to spare). After a quick stop and a refresh of our supplies we continued down to Bonilla Point, home of a lovely waterfall and tiny campground. We arrived at about 1pm, and made camp. Then slept till dinner. We needed to catch up after so many early mornings. We met up with Sandy and Kat while we were there, but they were on their way further down the trail. So we used their tree branch to hang our food and provisions. Sleep. That was our priority.

>> see also:

• Days 0 & 1
• Days 2 & 3

We decided that in order to maintain a decent schedule of walking—to be able to arrive at our campsite with a decent enough amount of daylight left to set up camp, eat, and clean up—we would need to wake up early. Like, around 6 or 7am. Since we’d just spent our first night on the trail, we were running, ah, a little late.

The “sleep” that first night was rather furtive for me. I had visions of mice chewing my new tent to pieces. Most anyone offering advice about the trail won’t tell you how to survive a bear or cougar attack. But they will tell you that if you have anything in your tent that smells remotely interesting, a mouse will find its way inside (usually by chewing a hole through the tent wall) in order to get to it. All I could hear all night was their scurrying and squeaking. I would often clear my throat or shift in my sleeping bag to discourage their invasion.

We were greeted that morning by a lovely sunrise and a cool breeze. Breakfast up, tent down, packs packed. Some bickering (actually, considering the ways in which you rely on your partner on trips such as these, there was surprisingly little arguing), and then onwards. We would need to make 13km in order to get to Tsusiat Falls, the most stunning campground on the trail.

The hike wasn’t too bad, initially. We even made friends with some Canadian Naval Officers who took a trip to the WCT at the last minute. Sandy and Kat (I think her name was Kat… I missed it!) were a great pair to bump into every so often along the way—very friendly, and often helpful.

The last kilometre of the day was brutal. We arrived at the top of Tsusiat Falls which was fairly technically difficult (a lot of stump jumping) and included a pretty dramatic increase in elevation. Once at the top of the falls, our journey upwards continued. It was frustrating. A lot of high-stepping and using our trekking poles to haul ourselves atop tall ledges. When we finally crested the maximum elevation, we were greeted by a series of about four tall ladders down to the beach. Neither of us was particularly thrilled with the last 30 minutes of our hike.

But once we stepped off the boardwalk and onto the sand, everything changed. Fine sand interspersed with massive hunks of driftwood and the tents of already-arrived hikers dotted the landscape. The ocean stretched out in front of us, broken up by points of rock and the vague shadows of the US mountains to the southwest.

All of this, of course, was completely dwarfed by the roar of the Falls themselves. Huge, wide, fresh-water chutes drained into a waist-deep pond, which in turn drained into the ocean. At its most crass, Tsusiat is a place to shower. At its most romantic, it’s the most awesome place on the Trail. The photos we took hardly do it justice.

We set up camp next to Kat and Sandy. We ate dinner with Jeff and Cheryl. Before bed, we decided we weren’t going to leave in the morning. Tsusiat was too beautiful to just be an overnight campground.

Day 3

This time, the mice made their mark. (This would be the first and only time on the trail that they would cause us any problems. And given the few horror stories we’d heard about holes in packs and missing food, I think we came out of things rather well.) My beautiful new tent had tiny bite and claw marks on the sides and rear screens of the tent. I was not a happy camper. But my soaring spirit couldn’t be deterred.

It was around 9 or 10 when we crawled out of bed. Cheryl and Jeff came by to bid us farewell. They were only going to be on the trail for seven days, and we were scheduled for ten. We could afford to languish, and they couldn’t. We knew them for a brief few days, but it was still sad to see them go, knowing the chances of us catching them on the trail were minimal.

Sandy and Kat left as well. Those two were movers and shakers. Sad to see them leave too, but we’d meet up with them several more times in our travels, so no worries.

With all of the other campers on their ways up and down the trail above the falls, we were left to do our own thing for the whole day. There were only two other people at the site with us. So we showered, explored the beach and some caves, and just hung out in the sun. It was a nice break from two days of straight hiking. It was great to wander around in sandals the whole time.

We planned to leave early in the morning (5am!) on Day 4, to beat the rising tide at the Hole In The Wall point, about two kilometres up the beach. I’ll tell you all about how I cried in the next post.

>> see also:

• Days 0 & 1
• Days 4 & 5

The trail was created by the Canadian Government around the turn of the century. Originally called the “Life-saving trail,” the WCT served as the point at which the survivors of shipwrecks could be accessed and rescued. For a good long while now, it’s served as a hiking trail maintained by Parks Canada and three Aboriginal tribes whose lands the trail passes through.

This year was the trail’s 100th anniversary. Since we’d talked about hiking it for so long, Julia decided it was time to suck it up and just go. So we booked all our travel, permits, and accomms at each end of the trip, bought gear and food, packed and got ready to haul all this stuff on our backs for over a week.

And really, when you think about it, 75km isn’t that far. If you’re really hoofing it, you could probably cover that ground in a day. On flat ground. On flat paved ground. And that was sort of my attitude going into it.

I’ve been backcountry hiking before, and I’ve done more than two dozen day hikes in the Canadian Rockies. But I’m not in the greatest shape of my life. Still, I didn’t figure this trip would be quite as exhausting as it was. This is all completely mitigated by where you are when you’re on the trail, and that fact that you’re actually, you know, doing it. But still: we planned for ten days on the trail. In reality we stayed for eight. Here’s a multi-part series about our adventures on Canada’s beautiful West Coast Trail.

Day 0

We arrived in Victoria in the evening, having struggled that morning back in Edmonton to ensure our packs could hold everything, and that they’d make it past the airport security people without hassle. It was a busy morning, as we had to also get the dogs to the kennel, which is past the airport. A lot of driving around. I was looking forward to parking my car for ten days.

When we arrived in Vic, we took the airport shuttle to our hotel, checked in, bought some food for the evening and generally just acted lazy. We tried to expend as little energy as possible. I filled up our fuel bottles with the white gas that had been purchased for us, and dropped off at our hotel by friends of ours in Victoria. I stupidly haven’t thanked them for doing that for us yet.

We slept early. We had a bus to catch the next morning at 6am.

Day 1

5:30am wake-up. Walk five mins down the street to catch the Trail Bus. 6:00am we leave. Two hours later we drop off some hikers at the Port Renfrew stop. Pick up a few other hikers. Then, for the next 3.5 hours, we drive the bumpy, winding logging roads across to the Bamfield side of the island. We’re dropped off at around 12:30pm, a half an hour before our scheduled trail orientation. We won’t get onto the trail until about 2pm.

At the orientation, we’re warned of campground wash-outs, cougars and bears, and various other reported hazards from the trail. I’m amazed when an elderly fellow walks into the park office and tells us he’s just finished the trail—solo—in six days. This dude had to be in his late 60s. And walking the trail for him seemed like it wasn’t a big deal. So it shouldn’t be for me, right? Uh. Right.

We leave the trail office after filing all our documents and buying ferry passes (mid-way through the trail is a giant tidal river at Nitinat Narrows that’s impossible to cross except by boat), lug our packs onto our backs, and start the 12km we’re meant to cover that afternoon. We made for Michigan Creek campground, which we’re told by several finishing hikers was very busy. We cross a beach, realize the videocamera we’ve brought is busted (later discovering this is due to a manufacturing error and learn of a recall taking place) and haul ourselves across about 11km of wet, muddy overland trail.

Walk 1km through a city, and it probably won’t take you that long. But kilometres on this trail are tough slogs. Big tree roots or soft sinking sand add a ton of slow-down to what might otherwise only take a few hours. That first day, all told, we hiked about 5.5 or six hours. And that was with about 30 minutes of stop-time to take photos, eat, and explore the grounds of the Pachena Lighthouse.

By the time we arrived at Michigan, we were tired, sweaty, and hungry. But we were treated to a beautiful sunset (see the top of the post), in front of which countless gray whales were breaching in the distance. We met a wonderful couple from Arizona, Jeff and Cheryl, who we would see often over the next few days. And we didn’t have to walk again until the next morning!

Now that we’re back home, the thing I miss the most about the Trail is the constant, reassuring sound of the ocean as the tide advances and recedes. You fall asleep to it every night. And this first night was heavenly, but for the sounds of mice scurrying all around our tent.

In my next post, I’ll tell you about the two wonderful nights we spent at one of the most beautiful places on this planet. I cried the day we left. I would have stayed forever if I could have.

>> see also:

• Days 2 & 3
• Days 4 & 5

Unless a huge show-stopper crops up, I want [the software] to be released by the end of the day. It’s going to suck, so we’ll have to really stress the alphaness of the software, and tell them that they’re seeing software when most people shouldn’t.

I’m still working on retrieving contacts so it doesn’t hammer the server. That’ll be done shortly, then I need to really lock down the sign up process to avoid confusion.

Also, I just took a fantastic poo. It was magnificent.

Thanks for that, Jeffu.

I love Steve’s coat. I wish that Steve would be my friend and we could drink Jack Daniel’s together and talk about how dumb everyone is and he could tell me about the days when he rode across North America in a box car and traded food stamps and liquor with other tramps and then magically got into university and became an engineer slash business man and started to climb the corporate ladder and how he eats only really healthy food now but that is all counteracted by the fact that he smokes seven packs a day and has a gravelly voice and could be a great jazz musician if he really put his mind to it.

it’s a near perfect hiking experience in pristine Canadian wilderness

on no other trek have we taken as many photos

mystic dawns and mind-blowing sunsets

pretty beaches, cool caves, hidden pocket coves, weird cliffs and coastal geology

it’s challenging — though 99% of those who start (somehow) finish

thrilling boulder and log walking between Thrasher & Owen Point

scrambling up slippery Sandstone Creek

playing at Hole in the Wall

impossibly situated pretty Tsusiat Falls

walking in impressive old growth forest

share the trip with whales, sea lions, mink. Maybe bear and cougar. Or even wolves!

ship wrecks and other historical artifacts

cable cars and ladders can be “fun”

campfires below the tide line

no biting insects

So you can see that Fish and I are in for some challenges. Between now and when we leave, we’re both training to get closer to peak physical condition. For the rest of the summer, I’ll be biking to work every day (unless it snows, like it’s supposed to next week) and training at the gym about five times per week.

This process overrides the Fat Zombie mission. Since I got my bike a few weeks ago, I’ve trimmed down, but not lost any weight. So now it’s Training for the WCT. I may or may not keep you updated on my progress.

Having been back on the social network for under a week, I’m finding myself far less motivated to participate as much as I had before. Facebook is a communications tool for me. It’s not an ERP that will help launch my career, organize my life, or do my dishes. Nor is it a gaming platform, or a place for me to publish my interests to the masses. That’s what this blog is for, and I have much more control over how Pseudo Psyence behaves. Thus I will treat Facebook as a diversion.

I realize that when I disabled and zapped my account, Facebook likely kept all my demographic information, so really there’s nothing to hide from. But I won’t provide the network with more fodder so I can be advertised to. The irony is that I’m working with partners right now to develop a software application that will serve ads based upon users’ personal information. I will happily use this system, because it provides significantly more value than Facebook, and we’re designing it so it will never spam anyone ever.

Like, ever.

So welcome back to Facebook, me. You swore you’d never return, but you realized after a fashion that it’s better to be a part of the system and to analyze its failings from within than to not participate at all. Sounds like an excuse, doesn’t it?

Then colour me excused.

If you have a second, peep Paulcasts.com.

My discovery of Paul’s new website was prompted by something I’ll be writing about later on today or tomorrow: I’m back on Facebook. Stay turned for a list of reasons and excuses.

This past weekend, I went down to Kicking Horse with Fish, my brother Josh, and a big posse of people. The trip was arranged through Backside Tours, a company based out of Edmonton that organizes tours focused on balancing the party with the riding (as opposed to just focusing on drinking, which is what many of the other tour companies are known for). We stayed in some unbelievable accomms: Whispering Pines condos. We had ten people in our unit, and each of those people got to sleep in a nice bed, enjoy a private hot tub, eat in and a huge kitchen and chill in the comfy chairs of a big living room. We also played our fair share of drinking games.

Sunny, clear skies, calm nights and warm temperatures made sure we didn’t waste anytime: good runs, a few tumbles, and clean, fresh mountain air. I wish I wasn’t home. Must take advantage of the rest of winter. I recommend you do the same.

I still have qualms with the privacy implications of the system, and whether or not I want people to know what I’m up to, but there are ways around that. Scotty, my roommate, isn’t on Facebook either, but he said he’s thinking of signing up. “I’ve boycotted it long enough,” he told me this afternoon. “It’s become inconvenient to not be on it.”

But there are, of course, other more complicated reasons that make me think I should stay away. Stupid as it may sound, the big one is pride. The I-told-you-sos I expect to have lobbed at me are plentiful. I would probably NYAH someone was well, if they returned with their tail between their legs. I know a few people who’ve left and comeback: Jorge and Fish come to mine. But I cannot seem to fully buy in to being easily connected to people again.

I’m going to think about it over the next few weeks, but I know that as people leave for the summer, Facebook will enable me to stay connected. And I’ve noticed already there are some people with whom I’m not longer speaking simply because it isn’t convenient.

I should probably feel worse about what that says about my laziness than about people saying “I told you so.”

Here’s the problem, though: I could totally replace it myself. Except I don’t have a garage, and the prospect of working on my car outside in this weather is less than ideal, especially because I’d have to drain the coolant before doing anything. Drive it to a garage? Tried it on Tuesday. This is how it went:

Adam gets into car, starts it up fine because it was plugged in. Adam scrapes off windows, making it almost possible to see out the windshield. Adam climbs into car and scrapes inside of windshield as well. Adam begins driving, hunching over with chin almost resting on steering wheel so he can see through the narrow gap on the windshield that isn’t completely frozen. After about 600 metres of 20 kph through the neighbourhood, Adam realizes there’s no way he can get his car the 13km to the west end to have it serviced. Sadness abounds. Adam turns back, parks car, and spends rest of the day in his pyjamas.

I might have my brother pull the car to his house with his truck, put it in his garage (which is about -10°C rather than -27°C) and work on it there on the weekend. Or I’ll have her towed to the dealership sometime in the next few days. I haven’t decided yet. Either way, my car—dear, sweet Chloe—is parked. I need to go out there later to see if she’ll even start. I’m not hopeful.

Thank gods the bus service is superior in my neighbourhood, or else I’d be right fucked. Also, I need to buy cat food.

Read:

Who can be affected by Toilet Phobia?

Toilet Phobia can affect anyone at any time and ranges from a mild disruption through to a significant disruption of daily life.

Causes of Toilet Phobia

Toilet Phobia can be caused by a variety of factors including anxiety, fear, specific experience or trauma and learnt behaviour from someone close. Causes of Toilet Phobia can often be a combination of these factors or none of the above.

Treatment of Toilet Phobia

It is generally accepted that CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy) is the recommended treatment for Toilet Phobia due to the fact that it is an evidence based therapy, however, many individuals cited Clinical Hypnotherapy, Counselling, guided self help and other lifestyle changes as being helpful in providing benefit to managing the condition.

Three years after that, and I still have the print. I’ll never lose it:

Looking for meaning? Aren’t we all:

Frog is often associated with copper and great wealth. Legendary Haida princes are said to have attended feasts wearing necklace chains made of living Frogs. The Haida carved Frog on house pole to prevent them from falling over. They also included them in many other carvings, from feast bowls to totem poles.

EDIT: There, Andy. Now you’ve seen it.

This letter was sent to me regarding my ownership of the domain name edstelmach.ca, which I purchased for approximately $14.00 on April 4, 2007 (four months after Mr. Stelmach became Premier of Alberta). The letter accuses me of interfering with and misappropriating Ed Stelmach’s personality (I’m really not sure where Ed Stelmach’s personality is, but I certainly didn’t take it).

It’s being covered quite heavily by local media, and there are lots of comments at Dave’s blog. Some expound on the legal virtues of Dave’s case—i.e., that there are none and ICANN rulings on the issue mean Stelmach might win this fight—but I think there’s something even more interesting here that Dave touches on: the ridiculous route the premier’s office decided to take with this.

Rather than try and get in touch with Dave to see if they could get him to somehow hand the domain over to Stelmach, they’ve gone ahead with all their muscle and are threatening to sue him. For someone who isn’t doing so hot in the polls, this is an absurdly shortsighted direction to take. Whatever your politics, you can certainly appreciate that the optics of suing a starving student over a $14 domain name aren’t terribly positive.

Good luck to you, Dave. And shame on you, Stelmach.

I’ve always been enamoured of this symbol. When hiking was a weekend ritual for me a few years back, I would create one along the way, or at the terminal end of a hike to signify my having been there. Fitting, then, that the word inukshuk translates to “substitute for a person.”

Inuksuit differ from some cairns in significance. The Arctic Circle, dominated by permafrost, has few natural landmarks and thus the inuksuk was central to navigation across the barren tundra.

Inuksuit vary in shape and size, and perform a diverse array of tasks. It is a symbol with deep roots in the Inuit culture, a directional marker that signifies safety, hope and friendship.

(from Wikipedia)

So, this guy’s pissed at his roommate for ditching out on his share of the rent, and then dropping $300 on a copy of Rock Band. Some people’s children…

First of all, yes I know this falls in the really mean category and yes I know they’re supposed to really be hard to come by, but you’d be this pissed too. I can understand paying for plane ticket to see fam during Christmas, but dropping $300 on a video game while skipping out on his share of the rent during a really expensive time?!?!?! WTF?

Well payback’s a byatch. I will consider this as the December rent. Highest bidder gets a PS3 Rock Band Special Edition. Comes with drums, a guitar, and a mic apparently. I need this done by next week, for obvious reasons.

Yes it’s been opened and he played for two hours before having to leave for the airport. But Mr. Anal actually packed it away because he didn’t want anyone else playing it while he was gone. *Are you kidding me? At least it saves me the trouble.

Oh and if you’re reading this, consider this your last payment. To everyone else, have a happy holidays.

(Thanks Andy!)

We’ve known each other for about three months now, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re pretty good friends. You connect me to people, remind me I have things to do, and you even finish my sentences for me.

But there’s something you really ought to realize by now: I almost never use the word “duck” in my day-to-day conversations. More often than not (actually, let’s just say “all the time”), when I’m SMSing or writing an email, and I press 4-3-7-6 I’m typing something entirely different.

You’ve consistently failed to pick up on this, though, and it results in the loss of precious seconds as I furrow my brow and briefly consider finding out what it would sound like if you hit the nearby wall at an impressive velocity.

So, please, if you’re thinking of getting me anything for Christmas, just rewrite that small bit of your program that keeps ducking everything up.

It’s a love/hate thing. I feed her; she loves me. She wakes me up at 5am; I hate her. I come home and snuggle her; I love her. I chase her around the house trying to poke her in the bum; she hates me.

It’s a symbiosis. And that symbiosis means that whenever I’m sitting at my computer, she wedges herself between my back and the chair’s back. The result is this:

Yes. She’s wearing mittens.

Eventually, I grow tired of her pushing her feet into my ass, and I retreat to the couch with my laptop. She stares, though. She knows victory is hers.

And in a few hours time, it will be hers again, when she jumps on my bed to proclaim, at 5am, that it is indeed time for her to eat.

It is with sadness that we acknowledge the death of Evelyn Johnson. Evelyn began with Edmonton Catholic Schools in 1970 at Grandin School. She resigned for family reasons in 1974 and returned to Our Lady of Lourdes School in 1978. She then taught at St. Stanislaus and Holy Cross from which she resigned as well in 1989. She returned again in 1991 and was assigned to St. Angela School. She retired from there in 2003.

A celebration of her life will be held on Saturday, Dec 8th at Holy Family Parish in St. Albert. Please watch the Edmonton Journal for exact time.

Que son âme et l’âme de tous les défunts, reposent en paix.

I have a clear memory of Mme. Johnson’s face back in 1986 – soft yet stern.

I remember the classroom layout vaguely. My most profound memory is when I was accidentally stabbed in the hand with a sharpened pencil by a kid named Jason.

Mme. Johnson was the perfect teacher to bring me around to how cool school could be. I’m sure her other students thought just as highly of her.

I hope she’s found peace.