Ice with that?

It’s spring. It’s spring, and you renewed the insurance last week. The sun is gleaming on the bay, a gentle breeze fans the waters, and a handful of small, fluffy, white things are drifting across the cerulean vault. Magnificent, you think. Today’s the day!

That’s because you’ve only been riding for two years and have much, much to learn, poor fool!

At least you’re smart enough to opt for the Michelin Man look – leggings and two sweats under the suit (with liner) – for all the good it does. And what the hell, if you don’t take the bike out for a spin, the battery might go flat. So there!

Ten klicks down the road you’re prepared to admit that a flat battery is A Good Thing. Comparatively speaking. ‘Cos, man! It’s freezing! If the helmet didn’t hold your jaw in place, your teeth would be rattling. That’s how cold it is.

But niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice!!!

Who’d have thunk it…

Ever wanted to know what the Vietnam War really was about?

“Jerald took out his father’s service revolver, the one Captain Charlton P. Hayden had shot so many geeks with in good old Nam.”

This insight courtesy of Nora Roberts, Brazen Virtue, p. 230. Latest statistics show that the Vietnamese geek count has been steadily recovering over the past three decades.

Oh crap!

(in the immortal words of Jack O’Neill)

Mentioned sewage treatment plants the other day, which must have been prophetic. No such luxury out here, of course. It’s septic systems all round, and seeing as building codes don’t apply outside city limits, many interesting things can happen with the plumbing. For instance, the toilet in my downstairs bathroom originally sat on a 3-inch-dais. When the contractor and I ripped open the floor we figured out why in a hurry: the waste pipe ran uphill.

Now, a couple of months ago, the neighbors had a little trouble with their septic system. It’s got a concrete tank, which cracked. This is Not A Good Thing. In consequence there was merry toing and froing of contractors for about two weeks, and enough pourage of concrete to rebuild the Sydney Opera House.

This morning one of the contractors returned, followed in due course by the truck of a local septic service. Delivering a PortaCabin… Like I said, Oh crap!

Right now they’re dumping another truckload of concrete in there… Want to guess how grateful I am that the neighbors’ property is below mine?

Smell her coming!

Don’t be fooled by the innocent look. This was taken just before she strolled off to tuck into a pile of you-know-what. To make matters worse, while bears do indeed go potty in the forest, they don’t use toilet paper, no matter what the makers of Charmin’ will tell you. Ahem. The upshot is that, while you’re hiking through a rather pleasant stretch of second-growth forest (creek roaring to your right), you can’t help thinking you’re being pursued by a sewage treatment plant…

Other than that odd olfactory delusion, it was glorious, though. Looks like we finally are sneaking up on spring. After two whopping storms inside a weak, weather’s been beautiful for three days now, and I swear at least ninety new shades of green popped between yesterday and today. Seriously considering discarding the hat for tomorrow’s walk…

So you want to buy tickets?

Lion King at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Vancouver, to be precise. Ticket prices as set by the venue range from $26.50 to $98.

Except, the Queen Elizabeth doesn’t sell tickets direct, because they’re strictly rental. Tickets are available from Ticketmaster.ca et. al.

Whose prices start at $97 (for the last row in the gods).

Which makes you wonder about the legality of a civic venue enabling highway robbery.

Air Miles Anyone?

So, I just come fresh from redeeming my very first air miles flight. If I’d had an inkling of how much fun this is, I’d have done it years ago. The underlying principle seems to be to make it as unnerving as possible, with the ultimate goal of dissuading the collector from redeeming anything.

Before all this happens there is, of course, the ever popular Listen carefully to the following options routine on the phone. Three times over. As the fourth list of options is looming, I switch to the old randomly punch ’0′ or ’9′ routine, since that usually puts you through to a human being. Success! But satisfaction doesn’t last, because the opening gambit of the human being is to try and wheedle me into applying for a BMO Master Card. Uh… no!

The human being accepts this uncomplainingly (yes, I should have smelled a rat right there) and proceeds to book my flight, which works well enough. I even save 25%, because they’ve got a special offer on. Credit card at the ready, we’re waiting to hear the damage on fuel surcharges and taxes.

But no! Though compliant on the issue of the BMO Master Card, the human being (clearly on commission) is determined that I’m going to buy their ludicrously overpriced travel insurance. There are twenty-eight reasons for buying this, the human being informs me and without a hitch commences to recite every single one of them. In that desperate kind of monotone that tells you she’s memorized the entire spiel and there’s somebody listening in who’ll take note of every comma she misses.

Somewhere between Reason #12 and Reason #13 my eyes are starting to cross and my dog is going nuts. Ever seen a mastiff go nuts? The human being hasn’t and can’t be interrupted, let alone stopped, until she lights on the period at the end of Reason #28 some fifteen minutes later.

I’m being stubborn and decline despite the impressive performance, and I can hear she’s miffed. But to show she doesn’t really hold a grudge, she tells me she’ll email me the current travel advisory for my destination country. So we part friends.

A travel advisory for Denmark arrives in due course. I’m flying to Munich, but never mind. It’s good to know that I’ll be avoiding those nasty pickpockets loitering around downtown Kopenhagen…