A Fine Sense of Balance

Stephen,
I think you may want to have your ears checked. You seemed to have a little trouble with your balance last night.
Paul

Julie Takes a Nap

In my experience, very few of us can shut down in the midst of drunken shenanigans only to rebound as if nothing had happened. It would seem that my friend Stephen knows these sorts of people. The first I saw of this miraculous recovery technique was at the Atlantic Trap and Gill. Laura, Stephen's special lady friend, was with us and we had had much more than our share of spirits, when I thought we'd lost her for the night. Sitting in a room full of long heavy tables surrounded by bench seating, each full of drunkards trying to shout above a live maritime band, her head went down like a ship slowly sinking till it lay on the table. I, for one, cannot recover from such a loss. If I am so intoxicated as to find comfort in shutting my eyes and drifting off to sleep in that environment, then I am likely in need of medical attention. But Laura rose from the depths after her short repose and jumped back in. Pints were downed and songs were sung and Laura was back in the thick of things.
Until now, I had left that experience thinking she had some sort of mutant super power. Sure, I'd known Stephen to be drunk to the point of vomiting only to sit back down at the table feeling refreshed and ready to drink again. But that's just gross. That is a disdain for your own bodies cry for help. No, this is different. She just shut down for a moment.
Then last night, J. O. added her name to this very short list of super power endowed drinkers. We were celebrating Easter, as heathens should, by sharing a few pints on a patio. Afternoon turned to evening which stretched into night and one patio led to another and there we were - drunk. While Stephen led the charge, as he is prone to doing, it was J. O. that impressed me. Too drunk and too tired to carry on she went down where she stood. Slowly sinking to the deck, she curled up to take a nap. Again, were you to find me in such a condition, medical attention ought to be a consideration. As it was, J. O. just needed some time. Up from the depths she rose to jump right back in. Here's to you J. O.

Not What It Sounds Like

I wish that Trading Spouses was on Showcase. Then it would be worth watching.

Daylight Savings, My Ass

Now is the time. It is beautiful outside. The sunsets are moving later into the evening. We can finish work and do things outside. Now is the time to get moving on fixing our winters. We need a time change.
When I lived on York University campus just outside of Toronto, I often thought that changing the campus' time zone to match Vancouver's would be best for all concerned. Any early call from the outside world (say parents) could be met with justified indignation.
"Mother, do you know what time it is?"
"It's 9 o'clock, you should be up."
"Not here it's not. It's six in the morning, mom. Can you call later, say, NOON your time?"
Morning classes would fit into your schedule. After last call downtown, you could take the subway back to campus and have a couple of hours before BC's last call.
While I never got anywhere with that gem, I think it is time for a change out west. I think we should spend the winters on Toronto's time.
Think about it.
Business calls would be easier for one - Montreal, Vancouver, and Toronto would all be on the same time. But who cares? We all know that we don't live out here for business reasons, but for personal ones. So why give all the sunlight to the work day? Wouldn't you like to come home from work with a few hours of sun left?
We live a lot further north than Toronto and I think we should reflect that in our time zone. We vary more with the seasons - maybe not in temperature - but in daylight. We go from 16 hours in the peak of summer to 8 hours in the dead of winter. Actually 8 hours and 11 minutes. Which means that on Dec 23 rd this year, you'll be shopping in the dark. The sun will be coming up as you drive to work and before you get out that day, it will have set. In fact it will set at roughly quarter after four.
Let's not stand for it anymore. I want to see us fall forward. Let's fall forward two hours. Let's move to Toronto time. Wait a minute let's get ahead of Toronto. Let's fall forward three hours. We'll go to work in the dark - leave a message for someone out east asking them to call when they finally get to work - and then when we leave work it will still be light out and we'll have a few hours to enjoy the outdoors. Imagine.
So I say let's get on that right after we De-Elect Emerson.

Season Tickets

This is my second year as the proud owner of seasons tickets. Yes me. The first year, I was so excited by the notion of being just that - a season ticket holder. I knew that the cost of seasons tickets to the Whitecaps wasn't overwhelming and I could have paid more for a single Canucks ticket, but the I loved the idea of saying, "I'm a season's ticket holder."
Not this year. The luster of 'seasons tickets' has worn off. In it's place is 'Southsider'. Not that I have tickets for the south side. No one does. No, I got my tickets in the mail today - this great folded stack of tickets. Eighteen games in all. And I have the same seat as last year. Now I say the same seat as last year, but as some of you may know, I'm not sure exactly where that is. I have a rough idea. It is on the east side of the pitch. In fact it is Section M row 5 seat 5. The thing is I've never sat there. If you happen to be at the game and you don't like your seat and you feel that section M row 5 seat 5 is a better seat than you have, well feel free to move on down.
You see, I'm a Southsider no matter what my ticket says. That means I'll be standing/drinking in the south end, just behind the goalie, taunting players as best I can. I'll do my best to get under the opposing keepers skin. I'll jeer anyone not in a Whitecaps jersey. I'll drink beer and throw the empty cup towards the pitch. I'm a Southsider so I'll find that inner hooligan and I'll call them fat bastards and tell them where they can stick their timbers and their relics and their skydomes and ....

Tick Tock Tick Tock