Scotty

Final Journey

The first words I ever learned to read were the words "Star Trek" in the TV guide when I was three. In the pre-remote control days of the early 1970's I was the family remote control. I had no problem with this task because I'd absolutely refuse to change the channel if Star Trek came on. My family got used to it.

My favourite scene of the series is when Scotty drinks a hostile alien under the table, sacrificing his prized bottles of alcohol, promptly passing out after he'd won the contest.

I hope that James Doohan spends the rest of his retirement in comfort. He deserves it for all that he's given to us.

Time Zones

The weirdest thing about moving back West is the time zone adjustment. By the time we get the kids to bed and settle down for the night it's way after midnight in the East, so any articles posted won't be read by the majority of readers (all 2 of you) until tomorrow morning, and by then many of the eastern bloggers have already posted their entries and moved on into the real world (I assume most of them have jobs...) and I feel like I'm showing up late to a party that's already winding itself down.

When I originally moved to Ontario in 1994, my new eastern time zone boss was fond of saying that we would deal with all the problems before head office (which was in the west) turned on the lights. He was kinda right.

At the time I was a big hockey fan and thought that the Pacific time zone was better: I'd get to watch the eastern hockey game from 4 to 7 over dinner, and if there was a western game, it'd be over by 10 or 11 leaving a good 3 to 4 hours of hardcore Saturday night binge drinking. When I moved east, all of a sudden the western game stretched on to 1:30 in the morning. Suddenly not worth it anymore.

But in 1994 it was a moot point: the league was having a strike or lockout - I can't remember which, but the result was the same. When they all came back I could no longer watch 6 straight hours of hockey anymore. I didn't really care about every game anymore.

Who knows. Maybe the upcoming strike might finish my taste for NHL hockey altogether. But I digress.

Coming back into the Pacific time zone is also harder because of our wonderful satellite dish. With all those eastern channels being fed into our living room, prime viewing begins at 5 in the afternoon. How weird is that?

I guess, like any change, it's all a matter of getting used to it.

More Useful Idiots

Canadians join anti-Bush rallies in New York

Do these poor deluded fools really think that if Bush goes, America will leave Iraq? The one thing that Kerry's not flip-flopped on is the fact that America has made a commitment to Iraq to see things through to the end. Their appearance will mean nothing to the war in Iraq.



Oh my. How does CTV define "scores?"



Ah, I see. "Scores."

Katana

Katana, chop enemies down with skill, speed and
accuracy. Katana's were made for warriors that
wanted to be fast and deadly like samurai
warriors. The Katana is very sharp and takes a
long time to blunt. (Please Vote)


What sword would you use (info and pics on swords as well)
brought to you by Quizilla

via Classical Values who's a Bastard...Sword that is.

Staplerfahrer Klaus

Oh my God this is the most hilarious Safety Video ever. It takes a couple of minutes to get going and has one of the best ending gorefests since Evil Dead.


This is Klaus. It's his first day on the job.

This one had me laughing so hard my eyes started streaming tears.


You DON'T need to understand German in order to laugh at this one.


This is Rudi. It's his last day on the job (I think...It is kinda open for a sequel)

Red Ensign #3

The Last Amazon is hosting the Red Ensign Standard this week. Lots of good links from the ever-growing Red Ensign Brigade (20 members now!)

Lots of good stuff. Check it out.

Triple Dog Dare

To increase the amount of pain and suffering around the world. Nicholas "Dr. Evil" Packwood a.k.a. Ghost of a Flea has Triple Dog Dared everyone to post high school era photos of themselves.

I tried to resist.

I really did.

But it's a Triple Dog Dare and rather than be accused of extreme cowardice (or is that Kerry-dice? Ouch! Zing! I had to get one in there, didn't I?) I have decided to inflict upon you, the two or three lost souls who've somehow clicked into this corner of the blogosphere by mistake, the ultimate punishment.

Click onward if you dare, but don't say that you haven't been warned.

He also lists others who've done this, but I don't care as I'm far too selfish in my pain and suffering to care about the rest of you and your pathetic little lives. To think this was all caused by Avril friggin' Lavigne...

Bruichladdich

Halifax 1997

I'm giving some training sessions on the accounting system to the sales force of the company I used to work for. It's March and the weather's damn cold. I'm staying across the harbour in Dartmouth and have taken the ferry to downtown Halifax for the evening. A good meal and then it's off to find a place to have a drink. I don't know anybody in town, aside from the co-workers I'm going to see the next day and am cruising the streets solo. I wander into a friendly looking pub playing live music and walk up to the bar. The "live music" is actually a table of patrons who have brought their own instruments and are getting completely hammered while belting out some of the best Maritime music I've ever heard.

I turn to the barmaid, who looks the part a little too perfectly, and ask for my favourite up-'til-this moment Scotch. She makes a face of disgust and looks like she's about to throw me out of the place when she leans over to me and says in that low husky voice used by so many women in her profession:


"Lad, would ya like ta sample a REAL Scots Whiskey?"

"Sure" I say.

Well, what would YOU say?

"But I'll make ya a deal, This first one's on me. If you like it, you'll hafta buy me ma" - she points at a little table next to the local musicians - "a shot of it too, for her Birthday, which was today."

Sounds like a fair deal to me. She pours me a Bruichladdich and I try not to gulp it down. I'm instantly in love. No, not with the barmaid, or her ma - although the possibility did cross my mind - Hey, I was single and desperate!

"Set your ma up," says I, a warm fire spreading through my chest, "and me too."

Two hours later I stagger out of the bar and catch the ferry back to Dartmouth, not giving a damn about the cold. When I awake in the morning, grabbing my computer and handouts as I head out the door, all I can think about is if they stock this stuff in the liquor stores here, and back in Ontario where I was living at the time. At the airport that evening, as I'm heading onto the plane to take me back to Toronto, I debate whether I made the right decision: checking my notebook (sorry, the COMPANY'S notebook) with baggage and taking the five bottles of Bruichladdich with me as carry-on.

In Toronto, the next time I went to the liquor store (down to 3 bottles of Bruichladdich) I can't find it anywhere. Oh well, I say to myself. I know people in Halifax who can get it for me. Then I here that they shut the distillery down in 1994 and that they won't be producing it ever again, meaning that the last bottles should be on sale in 2004 by my reckoning.

Curiously enough, as I digest this little piece of disappointment, I find a supply of Bruichladdich at the huge LCBO for $45 a bottle! The hoarding begins anew, but I have to consume and soon my supply has dwindled again. I begin to realize that I can't rely on my favourite single malt being available forever.

The last bottle is drained in early 2000. I am sad.

But then hope renewed. The distillery is purchased and new owners have taken over.

I start to see the magic bottles in the liquor stores again...WTF?

$74 a BOTTLE!!! $94.50 for the 15-year old?

Damn it. I really am going to have to find a job...

Slide

CONSERVATIVES 'ON VACATION' AS SUPPORT SLIDES



Funny how the collective unconciousness works. I was just thinking about this. Just as my political juices got flowing, the Canadian election was over, done, finito. I've been relegated to watching the U.S. election from the sidelines (honestly, fellow Canadians, which election has been more entertaining?) wondering when the hell Stephen Harper was going to go on the attack...I'm still waiting. I want to see political blood in the streets.



Anyone want to make a bet that if that Liberal number continues to climb that we may go back to the polls sooner rather than later.



The problem seems to be that the Conservatives have ceded the initiative: the government can hunch down and weather storms - the job of an opposition party is to attack attack attack. They should be making as much noise as possible about anything and everything.

It's not as if there's nothing to criticize, is there?

UPDATE 7:22PM Pacific Time - Damian Penny, a much more popular commentator than I am is thinking along the same lines...

Dinner

Rue's been busy in the kitchen again...



Springrolls all gone now...mmmm...

I don't normally brag, but I eat like this almost every day thanks to my wife's incredible cooking.

I'm not even gonna miss my favourite Vietnamese restaurant in Mississauga anymore.

Now if only I can find a place in Kelowna that does decent Pad Thai.