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August 10 Oh, Sorry. Did you get in my way?People Behaving Badly #8
It's stunning how many people lack such simple common sense.
Who's never been stuck on the sidewalk behind a group of people walking three or four abreast? Don't you just love it when the jackass on the bus beside you sneezes without covering his mouth? Or when you get stuck in the rain without an umbrella, only to find that the dry space under the awnings is occupied by people with umbrellas? Or the people who try to butt into line ahead of you: "Oh, sorry... were you here first? I didn't see you there".
I'm getting tired of muttering under my breath about someone's ignorance every time I encounter someone acting like a selfish punk on the street. Sometimes I make a comment to them, but this day and age, a comment like the one I think they deserve will most likely result in my getting my ass kicked. So usually, I just think of something smart to lip them off with, then continue on, replaying the scene over in my head, bitter and pissed that I didn't say something.
So below, I leave you a small request list... a little 'cheat sheet', if you will. Feel free to print it and carry it with you, if you think you might be one of the people who do things as I've described above. Whether or not you actually do, I couldn't care less, but for the love of GOD, people, please start thinking about more than just yourselves when you're going about your days!
It saddens me that it's come to the point where people need to be reminded of the most basic niceties. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one in this country who was raised properly -- Please, Thank You, Bless You, No Sir! -- and I'm starting to wonder where all the "politeness" that Canadains are globally known for has gone. We're raising a generation of spoiled me-me-me kids who know no better, and don't really care. When you strip it right down -- when you take away the race and the religion and the occupation and the sexual identity and the material possessions -- we're all the same, arent' we? Ten fingers, ten toes, one head and one heart. We're all human. We're all stuck on this planet together. And until we can all come together and learn how to respect each other, we're all going to continue to pay it backwards. August 04 Can't We All Just Get Along?People Behaving Badly #7My God, people. No wonder Vancouver has a reputation as a "no fun" city. Every time we try to have a fun, safe event, someone always ends up getting hurt. I know, I know -- it's "to be expected" that something will go wrong when you put half a million people on a beach. But, why? Why should it be expected? Why should we just accept that this is fact, that losers out there are going to bring weapons to events like these, events that are supposed to be safe and family friendly? Is it really that difficult to go out for one evening and have some fun that doesn't involve any bloodshed? Sadly, though, I fear that I am asking too much of society.
If I've lost you already, let me back this up. Every summer in Vancouver, for four nights, we host the Symphony of Fire -- a huge International fireworks competition choreographed to music. And every summer, half a million people line the shores of English Bay -- some arriving as early as ten o'clock in the morning -- to get a prime viewing spot of this spectacular, twenty minute show. And every summer, without fail, some jackass brings a knife, or a can of bear spray, and some poor soul who expected nothing more than a nice evening out, ends up getting a whole lot more than he bargained for... in this case, a gaping hole in his abdomen.
Perhaps I've already answered my own question. I suppose, if you have people arriving up to twelve hours early to see a twenty minute show, it might be a fair assumption that a few of these people will find themselves restless by the end of the evening. If you have hundreds of thousands of people crammed onto about twenty-five or so kilometers of shoreline, waiting in the hot sun all day, drinking beers to cool themselves down, it might be safe to say that a small handful of these people will get, shall we say, rowdy.
But the question still remains: Why? Why do some people lose all common sense and assume a pack mentality the moment they find themselves surrounded by a crowd? Granted, it is, for the most part, the younger generation causing the majority of trouble. But is that what we blame this on? The fact that 'kids will be kids'? That's hardly a justifiable excuse for violence. Besides, this is a generational phenomenon. Our parents' generation would not have reacted to last night's fantastic show by stabbing an innocent bystander. Even if the bystander wasn't so innocent, I don't think the 'kids' thirty years ago would have resorted to violence of this level. And if anything had escalated to this level thirty years ago, I'm sure it would not have been "expected".
So do we blame this on the fact that "today's kids will be 'kids' -- voilent, angry, and selfish"? That's hardly an excuse, either. Why is it that the youth of today are so disgruntled, so easily annoyed? Why, when the toys todays' youth has are a thousand times cooler than the ones we grew up with? Why, when they are coddled and spoiled and made to believe that they are superior, who can do no wrong -- why, then, are they so angry? Could it be because they're starting to realize that, when away from mommy dearest, they aren't, in actuality, so special?
Spoiled kids and the people who raise them. Next time, on People Behaving Badly. August 03 I Get High With A Little Help From My FriendsPeople Behaving Badly #6Oh, Canada. We've gone and done it again. If it's not our pro-gay stance, it's our anit-war stance. If it's not our anti-war attitudes, it's our complacency, eh? And if it's not that we're too complacent about things, it's that we try too hard to be like them. But sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of bud between friends to make the US positively squirrelly.
Following two short weeks on the heels of the discovery of a cross-border drug smuggling tunnel, Canada's own self-proclaimed "Prince of Pot" has been arrested by American authorities in Halifax on charges of conspiracy to manufacture marijuana, distribute marijuana seeds and launder money. That's right, kids -- Marc Emery, who has tirelessly led the crusade to legalize pot, has been arrested by American authorities for selling marijuana seeds through the mail to American citizens, and the US is now asking Canada to extradite Emery to the States to stand trial. What would be a minor, pesky fine in Canada could possibly turn into years in prison south of the 49th.
It begs the question: Are we too lax, or are they too uptight? As a smoker, myself, I'm inclined to think that the Americans are too uptight, that they're simply jealous of all the good stuff that's so readily available up here. But on the other hand, I can't ignore the argument that if the tables were reversed -- if it were an American crusader for the NRA selling mail-order handguns to Canadians -- our whole nation would be up in arms over it... no pun intended.
Do the Americans have a right to do this? Cross the border into our nation and charge a man who, for selling seeds, our authorities saw no reason to apprehend? Lord knows when it comes to foreign policy, the US doesn't exactly have the best track record with regard to going through the proper channels. I'm no lawyer and I'm not about to start making assumptions on what the practices and procedures are when it comes to trans-national law. But it seems to me that Marc Emery isn't the one breaking an American law; the people buying his seeds are the ones breaking the American laws. No doubt Emery is breaking Canadian laws -- I can't argue that, either -- but I would think that the American "War on Drugs" would have bigger fish to fry than a guy in Vancouver selling marijuana seeds. What's that? There's a huge shipment of cocaine coming into the docks? Never mind that! Some pothead in Canada has been selling marijuana seeds to the American public!
Change is progressive. It doesn't happen overnight. Imagine if no one had stood up and demanded that women have the right to vote? Imagine if Rosa Parks hadn't refused to move to the back of the bus? I'm not saying that I expect everyone to come around and be accepting of marijuana. But I do believe that it's due time for the stuff to be legalized. The money the government could make off the tax alone is rediculous. Never mind the fact that I stil can't understand why booze is OK, but pot is not. When was the last time you heard of a group of stoners starting a riot?? Hey, man... we should, like, go and start some, uh... never mind... wanna smoke another joint? Or when was the last time you heard about a guy pushing his wife down the stairs, 'cause he was just so aggressive and angry from the joint he just smoked? Seriously. Pun ten strangers in a room, and more than one of them will be able to tell you a story about how alcohol has ruined their lives in some fashion. How many of that group could say the same about pot? July 31 Always on my MindWell, I can't say my life turned out in just the way I planned
and maybe down the road someday, I'll need a helping hand
'Cause I'm tired of all the shit I've seen, and the things I'm forced to do
but after all is said and done, I'll be coming home to you.
I've had my share of love affairs, and my fill of one night stands
but I can't seem to find the road back where it all began
And if I need a place where I can go when I have nowhere to go
what it all comes down to, you're the only home I know.
I once believed my life would be a fairy tale, of sorts
but twist and turn along the way, and I lost that dream, of course
Now somehow, I will make it through the fire and the flame
and I'l come out on the other side, but my heart won't be the same
'Cause I broke a lot of promises, and I told a lot of lies
Seems these days I pay the price, I guess it comes as no surprise
But you stood by me through all the good, and you helped me through the bad
and looking back on all those years, you were the only strength I had
July 29 Would You trade a human life...? Part IIPeople Behaving Badly #4.1I was not able to find an article to link this to, but I thought I might add a follow up for those who have been following this story. As I mentioned below, a couple of days ago, a busload of Vancouver transit passengers decided that they were too important to stop and help a felow human, who just happened to inconvenience their days by -- get this... having a HEART ATTACK on their bus. Oh my Gawd, how incredilby rude! Can you imagine?? The nerve of some people. Sheesh.
There was a follow up to this article in the newspaper today. The BC Transit Union and the bus driver himself have come out of the gates swinging, claiming that our Good Samaratan has skewed the story and that what we read in the papers was not at all what happened that day. Apparently the Samaratan did not clearly communicate the problem to the driver. How hard is it to communicate the fact that someone is in cardiac arrest?? How do you even need someone to tell you that?? Isn't that something that would be pretty obvious?
Don't worry though -- the driver of that bus was punished. Oh, yes... he got what he deserved. He recieved -- and thank god our system works -- a TWO day suspension. Not for being a jackass and disregarding a human life. No, we wouldn't get that lucky. His suspension was for failing to report an incident. Do you believe that? He didn't tell his supervisors what a jackass he was, and got punished for that. Fuck the old guy who just about died on your bus. You didn't tell us about it. Tha'ts what we're suspending you for.
Good God. Thankfully, I walk everywhere. But again, that's a story for another time. Grand Theft Auto: National UproarPeople Behaving Badly #5What the hell is wrong with parents these days? Or politicians?? I tell ya, the world gets stranger by the day.
Let me sum up this post in five words: Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.
It's quite simple, really... let me break it down for you: Parents don't want their kids playing graphic, violent video games. But adult gamers are tired of playing rainbows-and-bubble-gum-don't-you-dare-offend-anyone video games. As caregivers, parents don't want games like GTA: SA on the shelves for their children to look at, get curious about, pick up and play. But as consumers, adult gamers are demanding there be games out there with mature content they can enjoy. For some reason, the game developers are not comfortable with letting the ESRB slapping an Adults Only label on any game, because "Adults Only" somehow assumes pornography. Not just "not-child-friendly". People hear "adults only" and assume it contains pornographic content. Retailers don't want to sell porn -- leave that for the sleazy XXX shops on Granville Street -- and game developers don't want retailers not to sell their games. So games that are obviously NOT intended for 15 year old kids get slapped with a Mature rating, which classifies the content as suitable for 17+, and even though the game is obviously for mature adults, they won't put an "Adults Only" rating on it, for fear that the general public will confuse "excessive violence" (which, seemingly, is OK) with "pornographic", which bless my virgin eyes, is not at all acceptable.
The current uproar -- as if GTA didn't get enough free publicity as is -- is that there is "hidden content" in the game, which, if manipulated properly via a downloadable mod, will show the user a very pixelated sex scene between the game's main character and one of the, ahem, ladies of the city. Now, don't confuse "hidden" content with "unlockable" content. This is indeed hidden -- inside the disc, inside the source code. I've never seen the "Hot Coffee" mode personally, but from what I understand, it's quite a process to hack into and find. Kids have a much better chance of picking up this month's Playboy at Safeway than they do of ever seeing this quote unquote sex scene.
 And yet everyone has their panties in a bunch because of this. Never mind the fact that a player can pick up a hooker, have sex with her, kill her, and steal back their money. This game has hidden sex in it!! Never mind the fact that the player can perch atop a parkade with a sniper rifle, decapitating pedestrians with a single well-aimed shot. There's a sex scene hidden in the source code of this game!! Never mind the fact that this game glorifies the gangsta life, setting the gamer out to build his posse and gain the respect of his homies through any criminal means possible. Did you hear me, folks? This game has SEX in it. S-E-X. That dirty, dirty S word. And it, my friends, is corrupting our youth.Oh, how I long for sarcasm to come across on paper as it does in spoken conversations. Does anyone see the ludicrousness of this? Blowing off someones' head with a sawed-off shotgun is OK for our children, but a bit of lovin' between two people is not?? Violence, good. Romance, bad. What the hell is wrong with this picture??
I can take this rant in so many different directions... which I think I'm going to have to do at a later date. I'm pissed that there are parents out there who do nothing but cry foul too late -- always looking to lay the blame on someone else. Take the case of the 80 year old grandmother who bought the game for her 14 year old grandson. What does she do when she sees the content in the game? She sues Rockstar, the developer. Like it's the fault of the guys who made the game that she stupidly ignored the "M" rating and bought it anyways. I know that when I bought my copy of the game, I was asked to show ID and was asked to sign a waiver that the person I was buying it for was not underage. I bought my copy at Toys R Us, mind you, but what's wrong with demanding that the people who play these games are not kids?? There's no way in hell the guy at Rogers Video would let a fourteen year old rent House of 1,000 Corpses... it has an "R" rating. So why can the same kid get an "M" rated video game from the same place?? The word "game" does not always translate to "safe for children". It's about time people started realizing that the average gamer is 30 years old. We're not spending our allowance on games... we're spending our paychecks. I'm about sick and tired of lazy parenting getting in the way of the games that I want to play. It's not the developers fault that the content is above the heads of fourteen year old kids. They are simply delivering what the audience is asking for. And we, as gamers, deserve to be demanding graphic content. Let me repeat one more time -- "Game" does NOT mean "safe for kids". Lets stop pretending this is something that it isn't. Let's start calling it what it is: Adult entertainment. I deserve at least that much. July 25 Would you trade a human life to get there on time?People Behaving Badly #4This is a great big shame on you to all Vancouverites. What the hell is wrong with people?
Read This Link. Go Now. I'll Wait.
OK, you're back? Good. Fine piece of feel good literature, ain't that? I'm not going to bother paraphrasing it for you if you didn't bother reading the link. You can't join the discussion if you didnt' read the book. That said, who the hell feels good about leaving an 83-year old man in cardiac arrest on a crowded bus, citing they have "places to be"??? It's bad enough that a bus full of people were too preoccupied with themselves to consider that this man is someone's father, someone's husband, someone's brother -- a member of someone's family. As far as these passengers were concerned, this poor man having a heart attack on their bus was simply another hindrance in the way of the grocery store, the job interview, or home. And the driver didn't seem to be much more sympathetic, now, did he? I believe his words, to quote the article, were that "his shift was over, and he and other passengers had "places to go." Who the hell says something like that to another human being requesting help? Seriously? Am I the only one who finds this incredibly wrong?? Now, I know that Vancouver transit operators are at best, surly, and at their worst, downright miserable. I've seen my share of disgruntled workers, I had a regular driver who I was convinced could go postal on us any morning. I appreciate the stressful jobs they have, but... guess what, buddy? We all have stressful jobs. None of us get paid enough for what we do. But we shouldn't have to think twice about helping someone who is obviously in serious need of our assistance. And not one passenger on that bus has the right to believe that where ever the hell they were trying to get was more important than Kaymen Cheng's life. Mr. Cheng, apoligies for the appaling lack of respect you were shown on that bus. To Jacqui, the Samratan who stepped in and, in Mr. Cheng's familiy's eyes, saved his life -- thank you for reminding me that there is still some good in this world. And to the passengers, and most importantly, the driver of that #19 Kingsway bus... shame on you. I hope you read that article, I hope you see the six o'clock news, and I hope you feel like shit. You're lucky it wasn't your father, your husband, your brother. Imagine if no one cared enough to try to help him? July 23 I am poor at driver. Thank-you for your favor.People Behaving Badly #3Everyone has things that they know they're good at. Myself, I know I'm good at cooking. I'm good at writing poetry. I'm good at grammar and spelling and math. We're proud of these things that we're good at, and we like to show others what we're capable of. And then there are those things we're not so good at. I'm not good at dancing. Or drawing. Or running. But I don't like to make this lack of talent public unless I am in a situation where the fact that I can't dance is soon to become quite apparent, anyways. For the most part, if people don't need to know that I suck at something, I'm not going to tell them. Of all the things that it can be said that people are either good or bad at doing, driving is one of the most hotly contested abilities. We all know women are bad drivers. So are the elderly, so are young teenage boys. Heck, teenagers are bad drivers regardless their gender. Immingrants are bad drivers, your parents are bad drivers, cabbies are bad drivers... it seems that in someone's mind, everyone is bad driver. Everyone, that is, except you. We all believe that we, ourselves, are good drivers. Much like we all believe that we make the world's best spaghetti sauce. Find me someone who admits to being a bad driver, and, well, I won't be getting in the car with them, that's for sure. So imagine my surprise when I saw this driving up the street one fine Vancouver day. As I'm walking over the Burrard Street Bridge, I see her car fly past me, weaving in and out of traffic. She's a younger woman, mid-twenties, perhaps... and I probaby wouldn't have given it another though if she had been coming towards me. But as it was, she was passing, and I managed a good look at the rear windshield. She's covered -- and I do mean, covered -- the entire back window with white poster board. ('Cause, really, who needs rear-view when you're travelling forward??) And in big, thick black Sharpie* marker, she's scrawled the words, "I am poor at driver. Thank you for your favour". I"ve obviously had to mock this up in PhotoShop, as I didn't have my camera on me that day, but I'm sure you get the picture...
And she's driving up the street -- weaving back and forth across three lanes of downtown bridge traffic -- without a care in the world, tra-la-la-di-da, as if this little signage she's added to her ride grants her total immunity. But the thing that got me the most, the thing that made me just shake my head in absolute amazement, was that the sentences don't even make sense!! Poor at driver? Thanks for my favour? I mean, if you're going to go out of your way to say thank you to your fellow drivers, you'd think you'd want to make sure it was heart-felt and genuine, wouldn't you? Sloppy spelling and the wrong choice of words just makes me feel cheapened, like you really didn't put much thought into it. So now I'm not as willing to be forgiving; to give you a "favour", as you say. It just makes me wonder how, and where, some people got their drivers' licenses. And it makes me thankful that I don't drive in this city. Mind you -- being a pedestrian in Vancouver is just as dangerous as being on the road yourself. More dangerous in some places. But that's a story for another blog.
July 18 Beggars can't be... well, financially stablePeople Behaving Badly #2Before we moved to the West End, we had a crappy little loft apartment on the east side of town -- the kind of neighborhood where you can't get anything you need without riding a bus, the kind of neighborhood where the things that you can get without a transit trip, you don't really want. After humming and hawing about the crappy quality of life, the man and I seriously contemplated leaving Vancouver completely. But in one desperate last ditch attempt at happiness in this city, we decided to move to the beach.
But let me tell you -- trying to find a West End apartment big enough for two people, that will let us have two cats, and don't care that said two people have bad credit histories, is not at all an easy task. The process of looking at apartments, finding them too small, finding them perfect then finding out we can't have cats... it seemed it didn't matter what we looked at, it didn't matter how many "good vibes" we sent out into the universe... as the days dragged on and our moving day inched closer, we were starting to believe that there was simply not an apartment to be had for people of our qualifications.
One Saturday afternoon, we are walking up Davie Street, on our way to check out one of the many 'boxes' available for rent. Now, if you live in Vancouver, or even if you have ever visited Vancouver, you know that we are suffering from a pandemic of panhandlers. The streets are -- quite literally, in some cases -- crawling with them. You can't walk a block without being asked for a cigarette or spare change by a shady looking character. Once you've lived here long enough, you know enough to ignore them, and after a while, they almost blend into the beautiful scenery, and you don't even notice them anymore. Sure, it may sound inhumane, but they really are like wild animals in the sense that if you show them where the food is, they'll keep on coming back for more. The whole "...give a man a fish..." and all that.
So on this day in question, as we're walking past the SuperValu on Davie street, we are met with such an individual. He's sitting on the sidewalk and has his hat infront of him, awaiting donations. But this guy, he's talking to a friend who has stopped to chat. And as my boyfriend and I pass him, I overhear a snippet of his conversation. And it was all I could do to not stop and fly off the handle as a result of what I heard.
Remember that I am a week away from having to move out of my apartment, and as of yet, I have no where to go. It would be safe to say that my stress level was, oh, about to go through the roof. I should also clarify that even though living in the city, you get good at ignoring these beggars, unless you have absolutely no compassion, there is always still that inkling of guilt, that feeling of being better off than another, and that perhaps I should be doing more to help. It's a fleeting feeling, but still, something that's there. So as I walk past this man, that fleeting feeling comes and is about to go, when I hear his words.
His friend asks what he's up to that evening. Beggar replies that he'll be there for another hour or two, and then he'll be heading home. Did you catch that, people? Going home. That's OK, I suppose. Even the most desolate of beings need a place to lay their head. But the conversation continues.
"Yeah, I'll be here for another hour or two," the beggar tells his friend.
"OK," replies the friend. "Want to give me a call when you're done work?" Done work. Like sitting on his ass on the sidewalk harrassing people is a job. Oh, man, the boss sure is riding my ass today. I can't wait for my shift to end so I can get out of here.
"Sure, sounds good," says the beggar. "Maybe you can come over tonight? We'll have some beers, play some XBox?"
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Did anyone else hear that? Have some beers? Play some XBox? Are you for real, Asshole? And this is the point where I damn-near lost it.
Now I don't want you all thinking that I'm some insensitive bitch. I'm not, really. I am perhaps, desensitized, but I am not completely heartless. I understand the plight of poverty -- I found myself oh-so-close to the streets on more than one occasion in my younger years. And I also understand first hand the lack of support for those with mental illness, and I accept that a lot of the homeless on Vancouver's streets need a hospital, not a handout. But jackasses like this guy -- who spend their days sitting on their asses making honest, tax-paying citizens like myself feel like perhaps I really am a heartless bitch for not supporting you -- I've got absolutely no patience for assholes like you.
As I walk past this guy, I'm thinking, "What the fuck?? I can't afford beers tonight. I don't have a new game to pop into my console. How dare you ask for my money when you are having a more extravagant evening than I am?" Granted, I don't know this guy. I don't know his story. Maybe he has some life-threating illness that prevents him from working. Maybe he's a complete nutjob doing a really good job keeping it all together in public. In that case, I'll eat my words and admit that I'm a bitch. But from an outsider, looking at a 30-something individual who doesn't look junked-out, physically disabled, or otherwise unable to sustain a job, I don't belive for a minute that you're anything more than a lazy dickwad.
As it turns out -- as you'll find that the majority of my rants here turn out -- I didn't fly off the handle. My boyfriend kept me in check and we walked on past him. I managed to toss him a dirty look as he asked me for a quarter, though. And, as it turns out , all those "good vibes" we'd sent out got cashed in that day. We rented the best apartment that day, in the absolute best location possible. All those thoughts of leaving Vancouver? Ha! Forget that. And the best part of all? I'm in this asshole's 'hood now. He has to see me every. single. day. as I walk home from work. I've given him that same dirty look every single day since the day I overheard that conversation. He knows not to ask me for anything, 'cause buddy, you know I ain't got a dime for you. July 17 The Tourist and The Ice Cream ConeSo now that this site is set up, I suppose the first order of business is, you guessed it... start exposing all those people behaving badly. I promise you, they're everywhere. Just keep on reading -- I'll tell you all where the prime viewing spots are, what sort of behaviour you can use to infuriate them, and what sorts of remedies you can use to calm yourself after encountering a subject of such behaviour.
People Behaving Badly #1I'd like to begin with the story of The Tourist and the Ice Cream Cone. Now, I live in Vancouver, and while, for the longest time I didnt' give two shits about this city, I've since come to fall in love with this place as I more and more consider it home. So, to see someone disrespecting my city is just not something that sits well with me. If it's obvious that you live here, that you're a Vancouverite, I'm almost willing to let it go. But if you make it obvious that you're a tourist, and you make it obvious that you're behaving bady...you can bet I'm going to notice, and you can bet I'm going to call you out on it.
So, I work in Yaletown, and walk home to the West End every day, straight up Nelson Street. This observance of The Tourist with the Ice Cream Cone happened about a month ago, as I was crossing Burrard Street after a rather long and hectic day. I'm standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change. I notice her to my left, standing off to the side, not quite close enough to the corner to be crossing, not quite close enough to anything else to be, well, doing anything. She's just standing there between the garbage can and the Georgia Straight box. She has a rather large backpack on -- this is not the "I'm-on-a-day-hike" kind of backpack she's carrying... this is the full-fledged "I'm travelling-the-world-and-everything-I-can-carry-on-my-back-is-all-I-need" backpack. She has a map of Vancouver in one hand, and a Drumstick* ice cream cone in the other.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm all about helping others find their way. This girl was obviously trying to figure out how to get to somewhere in the city, and didn't look like she was having much succcess navigating through her copy of "Lonely Planet's Guide to Vancouver". So I thought I'd step up and offer her some directions. I'm just standing here, waiting for the light to change, remember. And helping out a visitor to your home, that's just the right thing to do.
 So I'm standing less than three feet from this girl, and I'm just about to turn to her and ask her if I can help her figure out where she wants to go, when what do I see her do? She tucks her mapbook under her arm for just a second, and then scans her surroundings. You know how people look around to make sure no one's looking? She pulls one of those, and somehow missed me watching her. Because her next step -- once she was sure noone was watching -- was to open the Georgia Straight box and dump the remainder of her Drumstick* cone into it. Like the newspaper box is a trash can. Remember, folks, she's standing right between the paper box and a garbage can. And she chose to use the paper box to deposit her half-eaten, half-melted cone.Keep in mind that this entire process took less than three seconds, from the time I turned to say "Can I help you" to the time I saw her do this. So I'm still in mid-stance, still on the verge of saying something to her. She looks up after dropping her cone in the box and sees me -- Finally! -- standing right beside her, eyes wide open, totally shocked at what I'd just seen her do. And instead of hearing the words, "Can I help you?" I find myself asking her, "Do you treat every city you visit like that?" She has a look in her eyes of a child who just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She says nothing and turns to walk away from me. I follow her. "Seriously," I repeat, "do you do shit like that everywhere you travel? 'Cause that's just not cool." She kept on walking, ignoring me, and I let it go.
I've missed my light by this point, so now I'm waiting for the next one. There's an older gentleman on the street corner -- looks like he might have been a powerful figure in the corporate world twenty years ago. He gives me a nod of approval. I nod back as I watch the girl stroll away. Hey, someone's got to stand up for this city.
Want a hug?Given that this space will be mostly me ranting and raving... I thought a hug-o-meter might soften the mood a bit. What better way to meet people than random hugging? Wierd, perhaps, but we'll see what happens.
EDITED TO ADD: Ok, so it looks like a couple of people have stopped by to hug me... mind leaving a comment so I know who you are?
July 16 My 101One hundred and one things about me? I really don't know if I'm even that deep. Let me see what I've got...
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And that's the other thing. Marc Emery is not "some pothead". He is the one of the world's most notorious pot activists, and what some might go so far as to call the stoners' Robin Hood. Having been arrested ten times since '94, jailed on eight of those ten, Emery refuses to back down, refuses to be silenced. He speaks on behalf of thousands around the globe, and takes the fall for us time and time again. In addition to being the publisher of 
I mean, who does shit like this? If you were not a good driver, would you advertise that fact by doing something that will clearly further inhibit your ability to do something that you already know you suck at? |
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