Tag: Life
Another uneventful commute
Sorry to not be blogging much, but I have been exceedingly busy with other aspects of life. Mostly enjoying the hell out of summer while getting several things done. Ironically, too much if going on for me to write about all the cool stuff that’s going on. So here is a blog post I just cobbled together from something I wrote around Bike-to-Work-Week, and a recent event, just to hold you over until I have something interesting to say.
I might have mentioned this before, but I have a pretty good bike commute route to work.
First, the good news. My route is about 21 km long, and (for the most part) flat. I pass through a dizzying array of bicycle infrastructure along the way, and it is (for the most part) well designed and well maintained. I have always suspected this is because my route closely parallels that of another New West resident who is rather… um… outspoken about alternative transportation infrastructure, and who is always willing to call City Hall (be it New West or Richmond) to complain about dangerous or non-functional connections along the route. So thanks, Andrew!
My route to work looks like this on a typical day:
1.4 Km of local city roads with no specific bike infrastructure, but with quiet enough traffic at 7:00am that it isn’t generally a problem;
2.2 Km along the Crosstown Greenway along 7th Ave. This is a traffic-calmed road with limited bike infrastructure (“sharrows” on the road, bike-activated lights at major crossings) and parking on both sides, but mostly benefiting from the traffic calming of the West End neighbourhood.
The 500 m between 20th and the Queensborough bridge are a chaotic mess of pedestrians, passengers being dropped from cars, idling taxis and unpredictable buses, but that is the cost of Transit Station connectivity, and I rarely have “safety” issues here- indeed I use an overly cautious approach to the area being aware of all the unexpected.
1.2 Km crossing the Queensborough Bridge and attached bike/ped infrastructure. This route is super-safe, if a little noisy with the high-speed trucks and traffic so close behind. The sidewalk is a little narrow, which causes cyclists (at least those who aren’t complete jerks) to slow and make way for passing oncoming cyclists or pedestrians, and the surface is sometimes a bit sketchy on those frosty mornings, but no complaints from me!
3.4 Km along Boyd Street (in New West) which becomes Westminster Highway (in Richmond). There is a decent bike lane along the side of most of this route (except for about 1 km of unfortunate ugliness westbound on the Richmond side I have previously pointed out). There is a nasty tendency for large trucks to park in these bike lanes (in contravention of the “no stopping” signs) while grabbing coffee from Tim Horton’s, but this seems a pretty difficult piece of enforcement for the Police, and the City of New West installed break-away barriers to address the issue on Boyd.
2.5 Km along the “old” Westminster Highway. There is no specific bike infrastructure here, and nary a shoulder along most of it, but there is so little traffic along this dusty country road that it is rarely a concern.
1.9 Km along the actual Westminster Highway. This stretch, between the railway crossing and the new lights at No 8 Road is probably the least comfortable part of the whole ride. The shoulder is narrow and dirty, there is currently construction, there is a gentle curve (which often encourages cars to straddle the white line) and the large trucks generally go fast. This part will soon be seeing improvement if the “Economic Action Plan” signs are to be believed, so perhaps there is a plan to improve this spot for cyclists as well.
3.0 Km on a Separated Bike Route adjacent to Westminster Highway. For a stretch of Westminster, there is a 3m-wide separated bike/pedestrian route on the south side of the road. It is a bit “old school” as far as separated bike routes go, and has a few issues- the pavement is in rough shape in a few places, some of the driveways are blind, and the surrounding weeds are making the path narrower in a few places – but it is a pretty good route considering its vintage.
My biggest issue with the route is not a problem so much this time of year, but those damn bollards are going to be the death of me one rainy winter evening. There are dozens of bollards in the middle of the path, presumably to prevent people from driving a car in the bike lane – and the bollards are white with little reflective strips on top. However, at night time (especially in the rain) with headlights of oncoming cars an no other lighting, these bollards are nearly invisible. With the other concerns about the path (in-growing weeds, failing asphalt, and blind driveways), cyclists typically cheat towards the safer middle of the path, but that is where the invisible bollard await…
5.8 Km through increasingly urbanized Richmond: Westminster, Garden City, Granville. All of these roads have decent cycling lanes, well marked and cycling-appropriate controls, so no complaints there. Of course, I often have to deal with the erratic behaviour of Richmond drivers, but that is a whole other post…
But mostly a good ride. Most days.
This Friday something interesting happened, though. I came across a guy riding an electric bike up the Queensborough Bridge pathway as I was coming down. I was apparently exuding attitude, as the pilot first swung his fist at my face while passing, then yelled at me while demonstrating his finger-extension skills.
I stopped and gave him the universal symbol for “WTF?!”, which is kind of a shrug with both upturned hands out front and an incredulous face. This caused him to stop, get off his bike, pull off his motorcycle helmet, and approach me yelling a long string of things about how he had every (expletive)right to (expletive)be on (expletive, expletive) the bike path, and (several expletives on the theme of me not being a very good person). I paraphrase.
Now I hadn’t actually said anything to this fellow, nor had I (knowingly) offered any hand signals or other indications prior to the post-fist-and-finger “WTF!?” gesture, as I was busy riding along the bridge. Perhaps he was irritated that I didn’t immediately pull right over and stop so he could pass me going the other way at 30km/h (likely a more comfortable passing speed for him, on his motorcycle with impact shields and a full-face motorcycle helmet than me with my lycra pants and legally-compliant beer-cooler helmet). Or perhaps he had received so much bad attitude and opinion from cyclists that he is constantly brushing past on bike lanes with his motorcycle. So whatever – I refused to engage, and politely suggested maybe he should just head his way an think about why he is so defensive about things – and move his motorcycle as he was currently blocking the entire pathway and there were two cyclists standing there waiting for him to move it so they could get past.
I had to get out of there quick, as I was in serious risk of laughing out loud, and in his state, that might not have been constructive. But it got me to thinking about this new trend- encountering electric motorcycles on bicycle routes. What’s up with that?
There are two types of electric motorcycles on the roads of BC, according to ICBC, electric scooters and electric-assisted bicycles. The first need to be licensed and insured and you need a drivers licence to use them – they are for all intents and purposes motorcycles. The second are legally bicycles, and require no licencing, insurance and are (apparently) legal on bike paths.
Here are a picture of each, see if you can spot the differences:
That’s right, the first one has little pedals sticking out. There is actually more to it than the pedals: the motor cannot be more than 500W, and the top speed must be limited to 32km/h when you are not pedaling. That isn’t fast enough to win the Tour de France, but it is faster than most casual bicycle riders maintain. The second can be up to 1500W, can pull 70km/h , and you require a licence, a motorcycle helmet, and insurance.
Should these be on bike paths? I have my doubts. They weigh around 200lbs (without a rider), are wider and less agile that a bicycle, and move faster than most cyclists. It seems they ramp up the risk-to-third-persons equation closer to motorcycles than bicycles and pedestrians. If nothing else, they blur the region between human-powered and machine-powered transportation, and the more blurry it gets, the harder it is to think about where to draw lines. Why was the line arbitrarily drawn in 2002 at 500W and 32 km/h?
Alternately, their safe operation (much like bicycles) rely on the responsible behavior of their riders. Just people on bikes need to be extra-courteous to slower users like pedestrians when sharing a multi-use path, users of e-bikes have an extra onus to be courteous to bicyclists and pedestrians.
Something my punchy and profane friend on the Queensbrough wasn’t doing on Friday.
Sufferfest (the photo essay)
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The pouring rain of Saturday AM was tempered a bit by a social stop at Porteau Cove campground to enjoy some friendly fire. |
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Brackendale was time for Coffee #2, courtesy of former co-workers. And it was dry there, which was nice for a day where it almost, but never completely, stopped raining. |
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AA demonstrated the appropriate technique for acquiring the 5,000 calories a day we will burn. This apparently included adding chocolate to everything, be it milk or pretzels. |
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End of Day 1, with a glass raised and shout-out to Red Van Dan who could not join us this weekend. |
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Day 2 saw the addition of various Sufferfest hangers-on of note. Today we ride the Ironman Canada Route. |
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First stop is the end of the road in the Callaghan Valley. Yes, that tattooed calf belongs to an Ironman Finisher. He put some hurt into us before the day was done. |
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Then we had to go a little past the end of the road to see the sights. |
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Then it was distressingly downhill to here, where we stopped for lunch. Distressing, of course, because we knew those hills have an “up” as well. |
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The Freight Train really began to roll down the Pemberton Meadow Road. Nothing like 4 guys in formation pulling 40 km/h for 25km… |
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…until you run out of pavement, and have to turn that freight train around to face the wind that has been flattering you for 25km. |
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Flats #2 and #3 both occurred in one of the most beautiful gas station parking lots in the world. |
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Less said about the climb back to Whistler from Pemberton, the better. We dug deep into our panniers of courage, and came back wanting. This is me, unraveled in the bus after, on our way from out lodging to the village and an inevitable one-beer drunk. |
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Cheesecake: it isn’t just for breakfast anymore. |
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Feeling the pain, here Hummingbird poses in properly menacing from with AA, who was acting all Jens on us – putting the hurt on in the rollers and the flats, churning the air in front of us and forcing hangers-on to contemplate their place in life, until he used the sprint to dash illusions. All the time apparently smuggling cantaloupes in his calf-warmers. |
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The toll for the weekend: about 470km, 6000m of climbing, three tubes, 15,000 calories each. Untold suffering. |
Sufferfest (part 2)
I wrote a couple of months ago about Sufferfest.
A few buddies and I were going to ride bicycles over a three-legged course through the interior of BC: three days, 500km, two major summits, endless good times good times. And I was going to suffer. And it was this weekend.
Ahh… best laid plans.
Turns out life gets in the way of adult life. One of the riders got called up and is currently sweating or freezing (because, apparently you are never doing neither) in the belly of a LAV somewhere. Another went to start a new business this winter, so (as any small business person can attest) he just doesn’t have a long weekend in the foreseeable future. With the 2/3 of Alberta Contingent of the ride not available, logistics for the interior fell apart.
We ride without a broom wagon, so logistics matter.
One of the riders is planning to Race the Ironman Canada in Whistler this year. I cannot support this idea – in a perfect world no bike ride would ever be immediately preceded by, or immediately followed by, a run or a swim – to do so is to detract from the bike ride. As would wearing a singlet. But each man chooses his path, and there is no doubt his path this weekend will stir up some dust, in which I will be riding.
As the Ironman Canada circuit is new this year, our resident Ironman was interested in pre-riding the course, and from this we developed Sufferfest Plan B.
Saturday we ride our bikes from home to Whistler – 125km, much of it uphill, but a good day in the saddle.
Sunday we ride the Ironman Course – 180km, two out-and-backs, 4200ft of climbing, alles gute.
Monday we will ride back from Whistler – after a quick trip to the Cayoosh Summit on the Duffy Lake road – 230km, switchbacks. This is where we suffer.
Last time I talked about this, I was wondering about my training plan- suffer lots in training, or suffer much more this weekend. I cut the difference, and hopefully have found the calculus. I rode my bike a lot, but have done nothing that could be termed “suffering”. I haven’t done a ride longer than 80km in 6 months. Make no mistake; I will be pedaling squares on Monday.
And this gets real as of tomorrow. I can’t believe Past Pat did this to me.
What now?
Yep, like pretty much everyone else in the province (with the notable exception of Rafe Mair), I guessed wrong.
In the end, it appears I was not cynical enough.
After this election we can be sure we will never see another campaign that doesn’t rely on the double-fisted combination of fear mongering and outright lies; at least not a successful one. The targets were there for Adrian Dix: Christy Clark was lofting soft underhand pitches to him all campaign – she showed a pathological ignorance of the truth, she was wrapped in scandals, she made baffling unrealistic promises, and demonstrated a serial lack of judgement- from letting an 11-year-old goad her into running a red light for sport to illegally using taxpayer’s money for “quick wins” then re-hiring the soldier who fell on the sword.
Alas, Dix stayed on the high road, where he said he would. He relied on the voters to see through the sham, without actually pointing at the sham. However, even Dorothy needed Toto to pull the curtain back a bit. When Dix did start to point out the factual errors in the Liberal “Fact Free Campaign”, he did it by talking about the facts, not the liars telling them, and it just didn’t stick. This will be lesson #1 coming out of this election for all future campaigns: Positive does not work.
Voter turnout was low, and that no doubt hurt the NDP. Some suggest strategies to fix this: mandatory voting, on-line voting, a “none of the above” on the ballot. Of course, actual proportional representation might help a bit with the general disenfranchisement of the voting populace, but as low voter turnout almost always helps the incumbent, the impetus to change does not exist. The NDP did not support the STV referendum in 2009, and if they had, we would probably now be looking at an NDP /Green coalition government and Andrew Weaver would be Minister of Environment.
I argue against on-line voting because it won’t help, and the lack of a paper trail makes fraud a certainty. There is no lack of access now to the ballots, and at the polling station I worked, 95% of people were in and out in under 5 minutes. Not bad considering you get 4 hours in which to vote.
I also argue against mandatory voting for various reasons, mostly because it perpetuates the dangerous idea that Democracy = Voting. We hear people riling about how voting is our “duty” and “the only way to express your voice” or saying if you don’t vote you are not taking part in democracy and are not, therefore, allowed to complain. To all of that I say: Bullshit. Voting is one of the least important acts in a properly functioning Democracy, and your duty is not just to spend 5 minutes every 4 years going to a voting booth to mark a circle. Allow me to explain.
I was a scrutineer at the Armoury this election and a few booths over I saw a youngish woman drop off her voting card and ID, pick up a ballot, and pull out her SmartPhone to operate her browser. She spent about 5 minutes scrolling through pages, occasionally looking at her ballot and entering a few words (presumably the Candidate’s names). At first I thought she was photographing (illegal in a voting space), but it became apparent she was doing her research to see whom she wanted to vote for. A few moments in the voting station looking at candidate’s photos and maybe a few short phrases (“I Support Families!”, “I Hate Taxes”, “My Opponent Eats Puppies”), and she felt prepared to vote for one of them.
She wasn’t doing her Democratic Duty, she was shirking it.
Casting a ballot based on alphabetical order, or the haircut of the candidate, or pithy statements on a webpage is not doing a duty, or part of any functioning democracy. Learning about issues, understanding what you are voting for and why, then voting is your duty. This is not something one can do in 5 minutes once every 4 years, even with a SmartPhone.
I’m not saying people should not vote, I am saying that your duty doesn’t stop there. If Democracy was just about voting, then we have separated ourselves too much from the process (“Don’t blame me! I voted for Kodos!”) Democracy is much more about what you do the other 10 Million minutes between casting ballots. It includes learning about issues, understanding how the process works, and understanding who you are voting for. It includes getting involved to make the process happen, whether that means joining a Party, helping out with a campaign, or supporting an independent candidate with your time and your money.
I attended two sparsely-attended all-candidates events in New Westminster during this election. Every press article in the local media was a puff-piece, a thinly veiled press release. No-one asked the local candidates any difficult questions or tested them (myself included!)
I also attended an Open House this spring with two sitting MPs in the building. Prominent members of the Official Opposition were there to hear directly from the 120,000 citizens they represent. There they were, standing in a room, with an open invitation for any of those 120,000 people to ask them questions, give them credit, complain to them, give advice, throw pies – whatever – for two hours. Less than 3 dozen people bothered to show up. Do you know who your MP is? Do you know where his/her office is? When is the last time you asked them a question? Surely you would like them to do something!
There are New Westminster City Council meetings where there isn’t a single person in the audience – yet everyone is ready to complain about the decisions made there. I have found every single MP, MLA and Councillor in New Westminster is approachable and reasonable and will listen to ideas from constituents. I have agreed with some, disagreed with more, but they all had time for me. Some even reach out to me asking my opinion. Is this because I am special or “connected”? No. It is because I have reached out to them in the past to ask questions. Apparently this is so rare, so unusual even in a proactive community like New Westminster, that it stands out as remarkable.
Above that, democracy is not just about elected officials. It is about the Citizenry running the country. There is hardly a week that goes by that you can’t take part in a consultation or outreach meeting – directly helping your government make decisions. As I write, the City is seeking feedback on their Master Transportation Plan, on their Sustainability Framework, there are Residents Associations Meetings coming up this month. Many Council Advisory Committees struggle to get enough volunteers to assure quorum at meetings – where is everyone? Translink and Metro Vancouver are holding public meetings right now where the future of our region will be decided. Care about Coal? There are meetings coming up over that. Care about Tankers? The Process to approve that project is starting up right now. Want to find a group to discuss and learn about these issues and more? How about the NWEP? Think the voting system sucks? There have been people beating that drum for years – instead of wringing your hands at home or commenting on your favourite Social Media site, why not get in touch with them and help make the change you want to see?
Democracy is about those who show up: not on voting day, but every day. So if you don’t like what happened yesterday, what are you doing about it?
I walked home last night disappointed and disenchanted. Today was a glum day, but I had to think deep about how to turn it positive. So far, the best way I have thought to react is this: I’m not going to get discouraged. I am going to keep fighting for what is important to me and my community. Today I joined a Party (for the first time in a decade), and I will start taking more of a role in how that party operates. Instead of just helping out during the election, I am going to help build the Party into something that can win, and deserves to win.
When I don’t like something, I try to change it – that is my Democratic duty.
What are you going to do?
The Wal-Mart enigma.
I work for a City, and I serve on some civic committees and volunteer for a few not-for-profits, so I go to a lot of meetings.
Yes, some of those meetings can be crushingly dull, but most are interesting and informative and productive (otherwise, I don’t stick with the organization too long – I bore easily). Occasionally, there are great moments that could not be repeated in any other setting.
An example happened a few days ago, and I will spare the who-what-where details to protect the innocent. There was a consultant talking on some arcane (but pertinent to the meeting) operation of the free market to a (in her perception) less-informed member of the committee. Everything below is paraphrased from my memory:
Consultant: “Let me give you an example- you shop at Wal-Mart, right?”
Citizen: “No. I don’t”
Consultant (after brief pause to re-group, addresses crowd of ~20): “How many people here shop at Wal-Mart?”
Crowd: [crickets]
[snickers]
[one hand goes up]
Consultant (long pregnant pause): “Ok, people shop at Wal-Mart, right, and…”
It was funny because the consultant clearly didn’t know the crowd.
This was a group of hyper-engaged citizens, most of them (like the person who said “No, I don’t”) were taking time out of their busy day to take part in a public consultation for no reward, just to take a small role in making the City a better place. Some actually had to book time off work and (in my case) re-schedule some deferred time off to take part. We were not there because we were paid, or even for the free cookies. We were there because we give a shit about our community.
Now I recognize that many people shop at Wal-Mart, and this is not about judging them. The majority of the population may, I really don’t care to know the statistics. But in that room full of people who value their community enough that they invest their “free” time and their income into making it a better place? Wal-Mart is for the most part not part of that equation. Frankly, we would rather pay a few pennies more for (or buy a few fewer) socks or bags of nails or lawn furniture knowing that the marginal difference is more likely to be re-invested in our local community, through better wages, local sourcing, or non-predatory pricing policies.
Of course, if she said “Costco”, she might have got a different result. I don’t shop there, but it seems that Costco unfairly avoids the local-retail-crushing non-sustainable-consumption community-killing reputation that Wal-Mart carries. And apparently Target will also avoid that fate, based on the conversations I have heard in reference to potential Uptown tenants. I wonder why that is.
Even a dull meeting can bring moments of insight, and new questions to ask.
Off to the Races
Today the writ has dropped. We are off to the races.
This event has much less meaning than it used to. Back when elections could be called on any day convenient to the Majority, this represented the true start of a civilised and tolerable 28-day election period.
We no longer live in those more-civilized times.
Our elections are now drawn-out American-style affairs where everyone can see them coming years in advance and every decision made by government is based on their fixed timing. This campaign has been the longest in BC history, really starting 25 months ago when Christy Clark won the leadership of the BC Liberals, or maybe 2½ months later when she won her By-election. Hard to pick a specific start date, but we have been bombarded with campaigning and advertising for more than a year. The lawn signs and campaign finance disclosures starting tomorrow are really just a new phase.
“Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning”.
– Premier Clark
The worst part is that we have had to endure a year of a government who is campaigning instead of governing, and the next damn government is going to do the same thing. The fact the Liberals have spend the last 6 months asking the opposition to disclose their election platform shows that they have failed to understand the role of government vs. opposition outside of the 28-day campaign period…
…wait, I’m going off on a rant here, and that was not the point of this post.
The point of this post is to talk about how elections impact community. New Westminster is in many ways a small town, and this is even more apparent at election time. Our concerns are often local, the same familiar voices pop up – you will likely see Dave Brett helping at the Queen’s Park All-Candidate event, and me helping out at the NWEP one, and people will flood to Tenth to the Fraser to get the best local on-line coverage. We know Bill Zander will have something to say at a Public Meeting, and Ted Eddy will write a letter to the Paper before this is done. Often, the same issues come to the surface, and we know where many people stand on those issues, and we know the grudges people have. Grudges are easy to hold, hard to move past.
However, 29 days from now, we are all going to have to keep living here in the same small community, the “winners” and the “losers” together. How we conduct ourselves in the next 28 days is going to frame how we work together to keep building this community that we all care enough about to go through this.
Going into this election, we have a great field of local candidates. I have had the opportunity over the last few months to have lengthy sit-down conversations with three of the four declared candidates. I feel confident that any of them would represent New Westminster well in Victoria. They are all approachable, honest, and good listeners. Their ideas vary somewhat, but I get the sense they all have the best interests of New Westminster and BC in mind, and that they want to serve this community for the right reasons. A “bad” result for New Westminster on May 14th is pretty unlikely. It doesn’t have to be divisive – elections can be about bringing people together.
The only “bad” result will be if we spend the next 4 weeks talking about what divides us (“Socialists” vs. “Free Enterprise”), instead of talking about what we all aspire towards, and how our plans to get there differ. The political system, representative democracy itself, is just a tool that allows us to set collective priorities and pool our resources towards achieving popular goals. We know we disagree on the pathway (that’s why we have elections) but we all share the same goal – a safe, prosperous, livable community.
The politics itself should never be the goal. If it is, you are doing it wrong. Argument for argument sake is part of the reason people become cynical about the process.
I know who is getting my vote this time. As someone at a recent political event (and self-confessed “Angry Young Tweeter”) reminded me, no-one is 100% sure until they write on the ballot; so with that in mind I will declare myself 95% certain. I plan to attend events and hear all of the candidates speak, and I hope I can have meaningful dialogues with each candidate to see where our ideas merge or diverge. I am even helping organize an All-Candidates event, one that will hopefully attract a diverse crowd to meet the Candidates. But I don’t think I am going to “declare” who I am voting for right now. I might blog about it before the end of it all, but for now, we’ll hold onto the secret ballot. That said, my regular readers probably know who I am supporting, and you might see a bag sign in my front yard before its all over (if Ms.NWimby will let me).
More important, I want to keep the lines of conversation to all candidates open. For good reason: In a “small town” like New Westminster, politics can be personal, but campaigning shouldn’t be. Political disagreement for me has always represented the start of the discussion, not the end.
Just look at James Crosty. We spar quite a bit on twitter, call each other names and ridicule the hell out of each other’s opinions or ideas. He is usually wrong, of course, but so am I. Neither of us have very good grammar. Yet we always seem to laugh at ourselves as much as at each other, and none of this disagreement has prevented us from shaking hands, sharing a conversation or a beer. I consider James a friend, and even when I disagree with him, I perceive that his only interest is in making his community a better place. We have the same goal, we just see different pathways towards it, and that is what makes our conversations fun. I learn from James, and I hope he learns from me, even if only by cautionary example!
In contrast, I was at an event recently where one of the campaign workers (not, I hasten to add, the Candidate) asked me if I would sign the Candidate’s nominations papers. I said “sure”, and she confirmed I was an eligible voter and lived in New Westminster (-all good-) or if I had signed anyone else’s papers (-uh oh…). You see, a few weeks previous, I had signed the nomination papers for another candidate running locally. The campaign worker’s reaction was like I had spit in her face: a mix of incredulity and disgust. I tried to explain that the person whose forms I signed was good person, running for the right reasons, honest, etc. etc. The campaign worker left in a huff and sent me dagger-eyes for the rest of the event.
It occurred to me afterwards that she should have immediately identified me as a “soft supporter” (I was at her candidate’s event, after all) and turned the charm on to make me feel welcome and important, and try to convince me the merits of her candidate. Instead, she made me feel like an outsider who should be treated with suspicion. Clearly, she did not feel the same about community and politics as I do. Or maybe she just cared more abut the path than the destination. I don’t think she lived in New Westminster.
So I am calling on Candidates, Pundits, Twitterers and Trolls to try to keep it above the belt, try to hold on to your sense of humour. You can take the issues seriously without taking yourself too seriously. The more voters we can get to polls from all sides, the more included people will be, and the stronger a community we build.
I hope to see many of you on May 4th for a real community-building all-candidates event.Then i hope you all vote.
Misogyny and Christy Clark
Twitter is a world of strange interactions and misplaced meanings, often a result of over-ambitious editing to hit the 140-character limit. Inevitably, meanings and feelings are sometimes misconstrued. So I let the occasional personal insult slide off my back- the price you pay for being in the fray. I get called everything from a fascist / nazi to a commie / pinko, and have been counted among the “New West undesirables”. I get called an idiot (which is not far from the truth) and a know-it-all (which underestimates my brilliance, IMHO). Often, like in that last bracketed clause, it is the result of my lame attempt at sarcastic humour.
Very occasionally (and I only remember doing this twice in 7000+ Twitter exchanges) I have to react and call the person out for launching a personal attack. Interesting that both occasions were people calling me a misogynist for suggesting Christy Clark is not very smart, and may not be fit for the job of Premier of the Province.
“Misogynist” is one of those poorly defined insults that is really hard to react to. Partly because misogyny is common in our society in various forms, but except for a few obvious examples (I’m looking at you, Vatican) it is often subtle and difficult to define. I also recognize that, like racism, misogyny can be personal or can be so culturally/institutionally entrenched in a society that it is almost invisible while being omnipresent. (Kids in the Hall skit: Cop 1 “You ever hear anything about sexism on the force?” Cop 2: “No. I haven’t heard any of the guys mention it.”)
As a bonus, a middle-class white male like me trying to defend against the charge runs the risk of sounding like that person who says “I’m not racist! I know lots of black people!” If you are looking for a better informed and surprisingly nuanced discussion of misogyny, I suggest you spend some time hanging around over on Jarrah Hodge’s Blog. She is a New Westminster- based writer and academic, and provides accessible insight for those of us who don’t commonly think about these things in our everyday lives.
That said, a working definition of misogyny is the dislike, distrust or hatred of women. This can often be expanded into the objectification of women, but I sense that objectification is a result of one of the first three- it is just one recognizable symptom of the attitude, not an attitude in itself. What is not misogyny is dislike, distrust, or hatred of any single woman (unless, of course, you have these feelings because she is a woman, but again, this is more a manifestation of the bigger attitude).
There are people in this world I dislike and distrust. When struggling to think of an example of someone I “hate”, I get stuck on Dick Cheney, but really, I don’t have a lot of time for hate in my life. There is no-one, I can confidently say, that I dislike, distrust, or hate, because of their gender or ethnicity. I try very hard to judge people on their character and ideas, even when (especially when?) I disagree with their ideas. Through trying to understand opposing viewpoints, though thoughtful debate of ideas, is how I learn about the world. Dishonesty in thought or action usually earns my distrust, intellectual laziness usually earns my dislike. Overseeing the wholesale slaughter of 200,000+ innocent people for political ideology and greed and feeling no compunction about it after, as Mr. Cheney did, earns him a little of my scarce hatred.
My dislike (not hatred) of Christy Clark is not about her gender, it is about her lack of thoughtful ideas, her failure to lead, and what appears to be a stunning lack of self-awareness. She may not be a bad person, but she is a bad Premier. In some sense, she is indistinguishable from Bill Vander Zalm – a shilling salesman of simple ideologies with no cogent ideas, nuance in thought, or understanding of complex systems.
A couple of years ago, when she was nominated, I was uncertain what it meant, because I was uncertain who Christy Clark was (relative to, for example, Kevin Falcon or Darth Coleman). I didn’t listen to her Radio Show, and was not dazzled by her leadership run. I really disliked some of the decisions made by Kevin Falcon, so I admit to having some early hope that she would come out of the gate and put her stamp on the Province and differentiate herself from the person she defeated for the Leadership of the Liberals. Maybe she would arrive with a few good ideas to set a practical course for the Province, even stem the tide of shitty news arriving from Ottawa. Alas, over time, she has repeatedly failed to fulfill that early hope.
Actually, I have the same concerns about Justin Trudeau right now. Much like Christy Clark, he is telegenic, and sure seems to speak well to a room of supporters. People who like Justin Trudeau seem to really like him. They say “he is an inspiring speaker- and makes you want to follow him”. I just can’t shake the impression, reinforced whenever I hear him discuss any substantive issue, that he is a lightweight. He has neither the intelligence of Mark Garneau nor Martha Hall Findlay. I suspect Trudeau possesses neither the gravitas to lead our nation on the world stage, nor the intelligence to effectively manage a complicated multi-billion dollar enterprise like our Government. Stephen Harper (as much as I dislike the guy) clearly has both, as does Elizabeth May (not that she will ever have the opportunity) – and it has nothing to do with their gender.
The accusation of my misogyny came after I made a joke on Twitter about the Premier’s education history. But first we need to set up the context. The Premier was making one of those inspirational speeches to the already-converted when she kind-of compared herself to Margaret Thatcher, then turned that inspiration into an apropos-of-nothing and ridiculous criticism ofthe NDP in a demonstration of contrast. I quote (you can hear it yourself by going to the April 9 Episode here and starting at 1:33:00):
[on the topic of Margaret Thatcher] “She was a woman who endured the most withering kinds of criticism any woman – anyone in politics in the last 50 years – has endured, but she never, ever wavered. She stuck to her guns every single day. She pulled that country back from the brink, I would argue, by sheer force of will.
Everyone around the world knew what Margaret Thatcher stood for.
Contrast that with the guys were runnin’ against in this election. My opponent was in Prince George, Thursday last week. He was speaking to the Forest Industry, and in his speech he said ‘ya know, forest industry, I think you guys are entitled to reasonable profits’. (chuckle) And I thought to myself when I heard that: ‘what does that mean exactly?’ What’s a ‘reasonable profit’? And who decides what a reasonable profit is? Is it the Government who gets to decide what profit is reasonable for you? And if the Government is deciding what’s a reasonable profit for you, how long until they are deciding what a reasonable paycheque is for you to take home to your family?”
I’ll skip whether there is an implied self-comparison to Margaret Thatcher for now, the point was how the Premier parlayed that into a woefully unintelligent attack on the “guys [she’s] runnin’ against”.
You see, in British Columbia, the forests are Crown land. They are a public resource that belongs to the citizens of BC, just like water, natural gas, and minerals in the ground. When a company makes its profit by extracting and selling a resource that belongs to the citizens of BC, it is specifically the job of Government to determine how much of the profit made from that extraction and sale goes to the Company, and how much goes into public coffers to compensate the citizens of BC for the use of that finite publicly-owned resource. If the company profit is too low, we will not have enough companies deciding to come extract resources here, and the industry (and revenues and jobs, etc.) will suffer. If the profit is too high, then the citizens of BC are not receiving adequate compensation for their finite resource, (revenues suffer without a consummate increase in jobs, future supply is unnecessarily eroded). Where to find that middle ground? “Reasonable Profit” sounds about right to me.
As for the Government deciding what a “reasonable paycheque” is- does the Premier remember that it was she who raised minimum wage in the Province. Yes, the Premier herself, representing the Government, decided what a “reasonable paycheque” is for the lowest wage earners. Don’t get me started on Net-zero mandates for civil service paycheques.
Now, the joke string on Twitter began when someone other than me suggested that perhaps the Premier had to go back to civics class to understand the role of government, or at least first year Political Science. I then suggested that maybe this was taught in third year university, because we all know she didn’t get that far.
Har dee har har. It’s 140 characters, what do you want? A Heller novel?
It may not have been that funny a joke, but it sure as hell was NOT a misogynist joke. If she was somehow prevented access to University due to her gender, you might have a case; but she apparently had no trouble getting into three Universities, two of them of the expensive European variety, she just couldn’t pass enough courses to earn a degree.
Now, I’m not saying misogyny doesn’t exist, or that Premier Clark is not the recipient of some criticism that is clearly rooted in misogyny. Just go over to Alex Tsakumis’ blog (but turn off your speakers before you go there- yes- he has auto-start music on his homepage!) and see the language he uses to describe the Premier (and worse, that in the comments strings). I don’t think he hates her because she is a woman – so in his defense the out-of-scale hatred may not be rooted in misogyny- but the language and attitude he uses to criticize her is dripping with a twisted, sexist, misogynistic attitude that turns most thinking people off (and, based on his presence in the media, turns many others on!). This is that fuzzy grey zone of entrenched misogyny that makes self-assessment so difficult- it may not be intentional, and Tsakumis may be blissfully unaware of it, being a white guy like me who never had to deal with misogyny in his own life. Like the old saw about pornography- you might not be able to strictly define misogyny, but you know it when you see it.
When I go back through all of my writings on this blog that reference the Premier (easy to do, go up to the top left corner and enter “Premier” or Clark” into the search engine), I cannot find anything that my middle-class white dude brain would characterize as misogynist. Admittedly, I may be blind to it, but I would love if someone pointed it out to me.
Just as I was not being misandrous when I called Stephen Harper a “Dick” for the way he threw Helena Guergis under the bus at the most politically opportune time (I was instead being profanely critical of a single person’s personality faults). When I call Christy Clark “Premier McSparklestm” I am poking fun at what I perceive to be a carefully cultured but cardboard persona that combines “folksy” charm with the sheen of a well-oiled used car salesperson.
That may be an affect, and effective when shuckin’ to a room of the converted, or when makin’ deals with them folks over in Asia that need our energy and bring us jobs that really, really, you know, support hardworking BC families.
But I want something other than a vicious sales job when I choose a Premier of the Province. I want to see honesty, an ability to understand and relate complex problems, not bullshit simple solutions, an understanding that the entire world actually exists in that big fat grey zone between “Socialists” and “Free Enterprise”, not in some epic battle between them.
I want someone smart. And Christy Clark isn’t that.
R.I.P. Rads
Today is a sad day. Today I will cut my last pair of Rad Pants into rags.
The die was cast a couple of weekends ago. I leaned over to check a culvert for debris, and heard a soft rrrip while my thighs suddenly felt breezy. One of the crotch seams in my last pair of Rad Pants let go. Ms. NWimby laughed out loud; I think I felt a tear on my cheek. I knew immediately that this may be the last blow for my old blue Rads. An era came to an end. There is no repairing this lost seam, the nylon is a decade old, and has been around the world. A few smaller patches and duct-taped tears were OK, manageable, if not fashionable. But this was a fatal wound.
Anyone who has known Mountain Equipment Co-op long enough that they refer to it as “the Co-op” or as “Em-E-See” (as opposed to the new generation that call it “Mek”, a sound that will always cause me to cringe) will remember the original Rad Pant. Most of you probably owned a pair, or at least can pick them out of a crowd.
Originally designed for climbing, the Rad Pant was one of those designs that came together so well that the produce created filled many niches, true multi-purpose field and travel pants. A simple pant, with tapered legs and loose around the hips. Elasticized waist with integrated waistband, elastic cuffs, slash pockets with a few accessory pockets. The material was a light nylon that found the perfect compromise between durability, breathability, and wicking. They weren’t waterproof, but they dried so quickly, they were great for hiking in mixed weather. They were also magic at keeping bugs off.
I did a couple of field seasons doing exploration geology in the Swannell Ranges – a part of north-central BC where mosquitoes, black flies, and deer flies remind you every day just where humans reside on the food chain. Cool mornings, warm afternoons, and almost daily thunderstorms make for wet muggy conditions, and when you are a geologist, you spend a lot of time up above treeline, walking ridges. Your presence scares off the marmots the grizzlies, the elk, and so you become the only meat available for the voracious little insect bastards. Any illusions one might have about avoiding DEET for heath reasons are forgotten in a day. Your hatline, back of the neck and the back of the hands will be raw flesh without it. We even had to apply it to the shoulders of our long-sleeve shirts, as persistent mosquitoes will puncture through cotton or poly weave (and deer flies will scissor through it) where it is pulled taut. However, the light nylon used for Rad Pants had a tight enough weave that mosquitoes couldn’t puncture it. And the gathered cuff and elastic waist kept the bugs from wiggling around the nylon.
They were so damn versatile: light enough to roll up and stick in the back pocket of your cycling jersey or in the bottom of a day pack, roomy enough to slip them on over shorts. Durable enough to sit on rocks all day, repairable with duct tape if needed, and kept the wind off without being too hot for tropical use. I’m going to miss them, and haven’t found a replacement.
I don’t even remember when I bought my first pair, but I do remember they were tan brown, and it must have been before I finished my undergrad in 1997, because there are pictures of me wearing them at field schools up in the mountains of central Vancouver Island, and travelling thought the Basin and Range of Nevada after my grad. I have pictures of me wearing Rad Pants while sampling volcanic gasses on the edge of the Hale’ma’u’ma’u crater, while kayaking in the Gulf Islands for my thesis work, and while visiting mountaintop temples in Thailand.
Now, my last pair is dead, and there won’t be any more. MEC stopped making them a few years ago. Inevitably, they couldn’t let the greatest product they ever made stand. They messed with the fit, put in a non-elastic waistband, changed the cut and colours. Soon, they didn’t fit so well anymore, people complained, and sales dropped off. Then, instead of going back to the formula that worked, MEC killed the line. They just weren’t fashionable enough for the new MEC, the one people call “Mek”.
So goodbye Rad Pants. What good times we had:
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Me and my Rads, somewhere in the Osilinka Range of Central BC. |
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Mr. And Ms. Rads, at Thaba Bosiu, the birthplace of the Basotho nation, and burial place of King Moeshoeshoe I. |
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That little speck in the middle is me, with my blue Rads, measuring sedimentary sections somewhere in the Bowser Basin in NW B.C. |
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My original tan Rads, (RIP 2010) not at all fireproof, but still adaptable to sampling liquid lava from Pu’u’O’o on Hawai’i. |
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My Rads were breezy enough to keep me cool in the cloud forests of Costa Rica, while wicking off the moisture! Thanks Guys! |
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Caught in a rainstorm during a hike? Head over to the fire and the Rads will dry off lickety-split. Here, at the Sani Pass Lodge on the Lesotho/South Africa border. |
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Planning a beach attack on the Gulf Islands during my thesis work. |
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With Ms.NWimby and her fetching Eggplant Rads, on the way into the crater of Mt. St. Helens. |
February Excuses
Wow. February is really beating up on me. There are just too many things going on.
Work is busy as usual, but outside of those 40 hours, I am helping out organizing an annual one-day workshop for the EMAofBC, and am trying to make some plans for some relatively small but terrible important renovations a the Royal City Curling Club– which have to happen in the summer (for obvious reasons) and will require some creative approaches to funding (because if there is one thing a Curling Club never has, it’s excess money). Along with some other volunteer commitments I have made (including the New West Shadowy Cabal Project that I’m not allowed to talk about), all of this is keeping my writing output these days limited to 140 characters.
Or maybe it’s just because the NHL season has started again.
So if blog posting remains as intermittent as it has been recently, don’t worry too much. If it drops off completely, it is likely because my head exploded, and rest assured my troubles are over. Failing that, I will be back soon enough… as I have a lot of opinions I am just itching to let out right now (on Chris Bryan’s latest column, on the long-awaited Target announcement, on District Energy potential in New West coming out of our City’s CEEP, on the role of Political Parties and the alleged rise of independents… ).
In the meantime, her’s a picture of me Commanding a WW2 Aircraft Carrier. Go Canucks!