Someone from Back Home

My friend Caleb is in town for a few days. I've known him since I was a 16-year-old wannabe rockstar, and he was a bad-ass jazz student at St. F. X. University.

On my 17th birthday we got arrested for drinking in Columbus Field with Rainy Day Brown, who was my best friend at the time. Her mom was a hippy. My mom thought Rainy was "Trouble."

Anyway, now that I'm of legal drinking age, both Caleb and I are too broke to drink.

Eavesdropping on the subway

A mom was trying to convince her toddler not to lick the subway poles:

Kid: "Why?"
Mom: "Because it has germs."
Kid: "Why?"
Mom: "Because it's dirty."
Kid: "Why?"
Mom: "Because people touch them all the time."
Kid: "Oh. Worms."

Subway pic ripped off of toronto.ca

New shoes walking

I got new shoes. To celebrate, I recorded their first steps. Here's what they saw on the way to work this morning:

Driving Miss Nova

Last year I enrolled in a feminist driving school in the east end. Founded about 20 years ago by a Filipino woman who believed that driving was a form of empowerment, it specialized in students with "driver anxiety."

I initially signed up for a magazine project, but kept going because I have driver anxiety and no licence.

The classes were one part psychotherapy, one part Raging Feminist 101, and one part driving. While I got an A on the magazine project, my stint there ended after a memorable two-hour lesson involving a blizzard, an injured pigeon in a cardboard box, and a whole lot of Scarborough.

Every time I hesitated, I was told that the only reason I was afraid was because "some asshole man made you that way."

I stopped driving again for a year.

Now, I have 24 days before my road test, I still can't drive, and I was supposed to provide my new employers with a driver's abstract last week.

So, I looked around the city for a "normal" driving school. No more crazy feminists. I found a guy named Ronald in my neighbourhood.

Well, as it turns out, Ronald's driving school is actually part of a salsa dance academy. Or maybe the salsa school is part of the driving academy. Regardless, Ronald, an Ecuadorean about three years my junior, is teaching me "to make smooth, graceful movements, and anticipate every movement of partners on the road."

Ronald is all about the "rhythm of the road."

My roommate Alison, bless her heart, is also giving me some lessons. Yesterday, I parallel-parked.

Yay that.

Celebrity look-alikes

From MyHeritage.com.

Please note P. Diddy at 62 per cent.

Portents of doom

This morning I unfurled my broken umbrella under a soggy, dismal sky, and stepped off the front stoop with my eyes to the muddy ground. I looked up in time to see the Dufferin Grove Zamboni make its last trip of the season - right onto the back of a big yellow City of Toronto truck.

Yup, skating season is over, and the Zamboni is off to hibernate wherever Zambonis spend their off-months. I bid an early adieu to Zamboni Awareness Month.

When I arrived at Dufferin Station, I grabbed this week's Eye magazine, and turned to my horoscope. Or, should I say, horror-scope. Here's what it said:

"I hope you're not married to the script, Gemini, because rewrites are coming back to you tenfold. Lucky for you, your Attention Deficit Disorder is at peak strength this week and you'll take little offence at everything you've worked for being so quickly forgotten."

What? Maybe I like my script.

Finally, my hot boyfriend is in one of those foreign warm countries where you shouldn't drink the water. Two days ago he emailed me to say he was really, really sick, and I haven't heard from him since. I assume he survived, because his brother has my phone number in case he croaks.

Gawd. Now I have a driver's lesson, and it's raining. The portents of doom outlined above indicate I will probably run into a post.

UPDATE: More portents of doom - I survived the driver's lesson, but the farmer who sold me onions at the market told me, randomly and without provocation, "You can never trust a Pisces."

Ookpiks, my love

A guide to commonly misused words, with ookpiks as your guide.

Roommate wanted

There's a room-plus-office up for grabs in the best house
in the world at the centre of the universe.

Features include:

Nice roommates (two females).
In-house laundry.
Next door to a park/skating rink/place for campfires.
Close to the TTC and the greatest No Frills in the city.
Queer-positive.
Really big (top two floors of a house).
Lots of light.
Hardwood floors.

Details:

$625 a month.
Must be 25+, non smoking, no pets.
Officially available as of June 1, but really it is sooner.

If you're interested, contact Kate Nova. She's crying in the corner because she's going to miss her nice roommates.

Some facts about Arctic tundra

Tundra comes from the Finnish word tunturi, meaning treeless plain.

Tundra, including the Canadian Low Arctic Tundra where Iqaluit is located, covers 10 per cent of the earth.

A tundra climate has at least one month which is warm enough to melt snow, but generally has no months where the average temperature is higher than 10 degrees Celsius.

The subsoil is permafrost.

It's windy, but very little snow actually falls.

The Canadian tundra is home to snow geese, polar bear, Arctic fox, and moose. Other species include Arctic ground squirrels, least weasels, and snowy owls.

Sources: U of C Museum of Paleontology, WWF, and National Geographic.

How Zamboni celebrated St. Patrick's Day

Dear Rob Ford, you're lame

A friend of mine just passed on a letter which she sent to Toronto's foremost redneck councillor, Rob Ford (Ward 2, Etobicoke North).

She was writing in response to this quote in a recent Etobicoke Guardian article:

"I compare bike lanes to swimming with the sharks," Ford said. "Sooner or later you're going to get bitten. And no wonder. Roads are built for buses, cars and trucks, not for people on bikes. It's their own fault at the end of the day if they get hit. You shouldn't be in the middle of traffic riding your bike. If you want to ride your bike you've got beautiful parks. That's where you should ride your bike."

Ford is also the toad that famously said that only people who are gay or do drugs gets AIDs.

Hi Rob,

I was reading The Guardian yesterday (March 14th) and was so steaming mad over your bike lane comments that I missed my subway stop.

By the looks of your physique, I realize you don't ride a bike, run, or walk like some of your constituents, myself included. FYI: I DO want bike lanes; I DO enjoy biking all-the-way downtown, and I DON'T go to parks and ride in circles with no discernable goal. Furthermore, I do support a total ban on pesticides and I do support the tree legislation that you think is so "friggin" ridiculous.

I don't feel you properly represent your constituents because - other than the fact you are embarrassing - you make decisions based on your own delusional sense of values. Have you even considered what the term "greener Toronto" might mean? Has anyone ever mentioned to you that Toronto MIGHT have a traffic problem? Have you ever heard of a smog alert? Did you know that "recycling" doesn't mean riding a bicycle backwards?

My neighbours and I experienced your ineptitude first-hand when you failed to support us during a difficult experience with an aggressive developer. In fact, the only person who showed interest in our case was Councillor Gloria Lindsay Luby, whom you have affectionately called "waste of skin."

I'll tell you what, Rob, as a constituent of Ward 2, I feel it is time we traded you in for a better model. Do us a favour and step down.

His reply:

Dear XXX,

Thank you very much for your email. I appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts and views with me. Your opinions are valued. I would like to speak with you personally regarding this issue. Please forward me your telephone number or leave me a voice mail at 416-233-6934 and I will be happy to speak with you as soon as possible.

Best Regards,
Rob Ford
Councillor Etobicoke North

Totally unrelated: a museum of Mac

Independent community newspaper - Noun

Pronunciation: in-di-pen-duhnt kuh-myoo-ni-tee nooz-pey-per
/ɪndɪˈpɛndənt/kəˈmyunɪti/ˈnuzˌpeɪpər/

1. a publication which attempts to issue itself at semi-regular intervals, ideally containing news, comment, features, and advertising.
2. a sort of business-like organization publishing such a publication.
3. a single issue or copy of such a publication.
4. doesn't own its own printing press.

I work for an independent community newspaper. Roughly translated that means we have a lot of old computers and sometimes the phones don't work. But we have ideals, dammit.

I've posted a picture of some of our computers.

Killer Zambonis

Co-worker Meg just directed me to an important news story on CBC this morning: exhaust from ice resurfacers is hurting kids in rinks.

As part of its news investigation, "the CBC tested 42 arenas in Halifax, Sudbury, Winnipeg, Edmonton and Vancouver. Of those rinks, 24 per cent tested higher than 60,000 particles of pollution per cubic centimetre."

Lung capacity is decreased at this level, according to their scientist-source.

Holy Hannah, why didn't we think of that? It's like slow suicide in a really big garage.

Interesting Zamboni stories

A Zamboni World, from thecampuspress.com, enlightened me to the fact that there is another model ice resurfacer out there: the Olympia. Also includes an anecdote about two Idaho drivers who got canned for taking their Zambonis through a drive-thru window.

The New York Times outlined a terrifying world without Zambonis in ADVENTURER; No Place for a Zamboni: A Hockey Rink Where Players Sink. Underwater hockey is played with lead pucks and snorkels. No need for the humble Zamboni.

An oldie but a goodie, Zamboni: a revolutionary development for hockey on NHL.com gives a pretty comprehensive overview of Zamboni history. Plus, there's a picture of a girl with really big boobs riding around on one.

Kate Nova North

It is official. Kate Nova soon will be reporting on the comings and goings of Iqaluit.

According to Neiland, there are four main cultural groups in Iqaluit: French, Newfoundlanders, Inuit, and others (that's me).

You're all invited to crash on my cold couch in the Land of the Midnight Sun.

Hurrah!

Interesting Zamboni fact

Upon reflection this makes complete sense, but I was surprised to learn that Zamboni drivers, like their athletic counterparts, strive to land coveted jobs at the Olympics.

From a February 2006 article in the Wall Street Journal's CareerJournal.com:

In America, where the Zamboni was invented in 1949 by the Frank J. Zamboni Co., both the machine and its drivers have become cultural icons, featured in cartoons, movies, murder mysteries and ballads that portray the drivers as mythic idols or zealous maniacs.

Those aren't the kinds of drivers who make the Olympic Zamboni team. Nor the two guys arrested in recent months for Zamboni driving under the influence of alcohol. Nor the guy who once ran out of gas at center ice during a hockey game in New York. Nor the guy in Baltimore who fell off a Zamboni; while he scrambled to his feet, the machine continued running, eventually slamming into the boards.

When Jukka-Pekka Vuorinen, the Finnish director of the Olympic hockey competition here, selected his 18 ice curators, "I looked for backbone and experience," he says. "When you have a full house of fans, when millions of people are watching on television, you get nervous, you make mistakes. I wanted serious drivers."

"No showboaters," adds Mr. Craig, the facilities operations manager of North America's National Hockey League, where he is commonly called the "ice guru." He peers through the glass surrounding Turin's Esposizioni rink and watches a pair of Zambonis methodically clean the ice before a U.S.-Switzerland women's game. "People think it's fun to drive a Zamboni," he says. "But they don't really understand the pressure on the ice crew during events like this. The best players in the world are here. Everyone in the hockey world will be watching what goes on in these facilities."

Interesting Zamboni fact

Six per cent of Canadians say they would like to celebrate Canada Day by having sex on a zamboni, according to a December 2003 statistical survey by Globe and Mail columnist Murray Campbell.

Interesting Zamboni fact

From urbandictionary.com:

1. zamboner

The act of a man getting excited or aroused. Combines the words 'zamboni' and 'boner.' First coined at a UW Badgers Men's Hockey Game.

When I saw this money hottie at the bar last night, I got a zamboner!

2. zamboner

An erection that develops while, or as a result of, driving a zamboni.

While I was driving the zamboni, I had a zamboner.

Interesting Zamboni links

Zamboni.com (Thank you Dooner).

The Zambonis, a band that plays songs about hockey and zambonis.

Brian Zamboni, Phd.

---------------PSA: Love your Zamboni---------------

For immediate release: March is Zamboni Awareness Month

Without Zambonis our ice would be ugly, our skates wouldn't glide, and our hearts would be cold.

Come celebrate these benevolent, awkward creatures all month in Dufferin Grove. Activities include a drunken midnight skate in evening wear and a Zamboni Appreciation Picnic in the snow.

March is also Pet Insurance Month, Fraud Prevention Month, Epilepsy Awareness Month, and Youth Science Festival Month.

Hear ye, hear ye.

For more information on ZAM, please contact Kate Nova.

Hardcore research

At the office in a snowstorm, checking out blog-like things on the Northern life.

No one says anything about living in the centre of the universe, but this blogger recently posted about inadequate bike racks in Yellowknife. He also writes about his efforts to lead a sustainable existence, and attends bike route workshops at City Hall.

I like bikes and city halls. Maybe he will be my friend.

Sow's ear = silk purse

The Friends of Dufferin Grove transformed a gazillion letters of protest into a new campfire handbook, which you can download here. Peace and harmony reigns again.