Pet Peeves of The Caribbean

We went to the 19th annual Caribbean Festival Sunday afternoon. The highlights were the chicken and vegetable Jamaican patties, and watching some people from the Grenadines dance around a maypole. I was disappointed with my lunch, though—jerked chicken and a pineapple soda. In the taste department, Betty's parents' Jamaican neighbour has a far spicier and more flavourful recipe. Logistically, it was no small feat using a plastic knife to carve up the chicken while seated at a park bench; there wasn't enough table seating. Moreover the food stalls didn't have drinking straws so Matthew had a hard go at drinking directly from the can.

I think the rain warning affected the attendance. Betty and I almost got caught in this morning's downpour during our 5K run, and that probably kept some of the people away.

It's fair to say that the number of pictures taken at a festival for inclusion in this blog is proportional to how much fun was had. So this was our first and likely only Caribbean Festival.

Note: we never made it to Saturday's Yaletown Street party. Instead, I spent the afternoon reading How Proust Can Change Your Life (review forthcoming) on a comfy couch just outside the Coast Mountain Sports store at Metrotown Centre while Betty and the two clowns did some—what else?—shopping.

***
Pet Peeves

1) The Legs-Spread-Wide Bus Passenger
I've done my share of riding the bus. Well over ten years of it, in fact. One thing that got my goat are the fellow passengers who sit with their legs spread apart, pressing their thighs against mine and violating my personal space. We aren't talking about big people or people with huge backpacks on the floor beneath them, but regular-sized folks whose lower limbs spill over seat boundaries. Note: on the rare occasions when the fellow passenger was hot, her legs could've been on top of mine for all I care... ;-)

2) The Wide-Stance Urinal User
As most of you ladies know, urinals at most public restrooms are placed pretty close to one another. When it's rush hour in the men's room, this can lead to a short duration version of "The Legs-Spread-Wide Bus Passenger" situation. I can't explain this phenomenon. It's simply not that difficult biomechanically to reposition one's legs, even in midstream, to make room. If the stance is indeed a compensatory reflex, it'd make more sense for them to use the lower children urinals, and then complain very publicly about how "deep and cold" the water was. Nope, my uncomfortable conclusion is that these guys are afraid of me taking a peek and are keeping their distance.

Dinosaur Showdown

Matthew sure knows his dinosaurs. Not only can he name them, he's also familiar with their diet. Here he's positioned the plant eaters at the top, poised for battle with the meat eaters at the bottom. The ensuing battle was very violent—there were no survivors.

[Photo by Dad, conceived and arranged by Matthew]

St. Moritz On A Hot Day

We were pretty busy Saturday.

After Shaula's morning swim class, after the return of some borrowed material to the library, after a visit to the bank, and after we dropped Shaula off at her cousins' in Surrey for a weekend sleepover, we headed back into Vancouver.

Our first stop was the St. Moritz Watch Corporation. Its offices are in a converted home nestled in a residential area across from Choklit Park. The watches on display were spread over two boutiquey floors.

I would've probably picked up a half-dozen watches were it not for the pangs of guilt from having already acquired a good number of watches of late. In the end, I bought only three.

The M1 in orange went for $80. In hindsight, an okay deal. Betty got a black version and Shaula one with a pink face and pink strap. The rubber straps, by the way, are infused with vanilla. The one pictured to the right of the M1 cost $29, and the one on the far right $39 (retail $295). Both have Swiss movements.

I almost picked up a Coral Sea, around $100, a fabulous price for a Swiss Made sapphire watch.

The St. Moritz people were very nice and effectively fed Matthew lunch (freezies, chips, drinks).

I took two shots of the skyline from Choklit Park on the way back to our car.

Betty and I were starving so we made the short drive to Vij's Rangoli in South Granville for a light 2:00PM lunch. Because the food is prepared in the same kitchen as the adjacent Vij's, I'm going to strike Vij's off my list of restaurants to visit this summer—close enough.

We ordered and shared the South India Vegetable Curry and the Coconut Curry Chicken dishes (both around $11), and a mango juice. This just cried out for a photo.

Neither of us were blown away by the two entrées, but it was obvious that only fresh ingredients were used, and we both agreed that the serving size was just right. The highlight was the green pesto/masabi-like paste (see picture). It's actually mint mango chutney.

As we were leaving, a co-worker spotted me and introduced me to her boyfriend. Betty and I, just for the hell of it, were heading for the Sakura condominium complex presentation centre two blocks further south along Granville. Needless to say, we made a few stops while en route, first at the women's clothing store, Plum, where I spotted L. F. from one of my previous jobs. Didn't stop to chat. We then spent some time at the TNA store.

The presentation centre was a bust; it was for the time being merely a place for making an appointment for a future private viewing. I did get the floor plans. Two bedroom suites were starting in the low 500s (800 sq. ft.). Disheartening for a buyer.

We left the area to pick up some Velcro® on Fraser Street. We had dinner at Betty's mom's, and spent the rest of the evening indoors at Metrotown Centre hiding from the still 30°+ heat (like a lot of other people were, based on how busy the place was at 8:00PM).

Blasts From The Past Plus Two Words

Here are some nearly-forgotten and fading terms and things from the not-so-distant past for all you middle-agers out there:

• Spaz - as in someone who generally randomly overreacts. Don't write any negative comments here because the owner of this blog is going to be a royal spaz about it.
• VD/herpes simplex - replaced by the more generic term STD.
• TaB - terrible tasting diet cola similar to Mr. Pibb or RC Cola. Making a comeback, at least in name.
• Uncola - sales pitch for 7UP. I drank a can of Diet 7UP yesterday, and the only adjective that came to mind was how un-cola it was; it's indeed much more refreshing than a Coke or a Pepsi.
• Loose - as in promiscuous.

Here are two words that bother me. It's obvious that it doesn't take much to make me spaz out.

• Flamboyant - much too flamboyant even for itself. Every time I hear or see this word, I can't but help visualize pink floating meat. The oi/oy dipthong doesn't help either.
• Dormitory - too American for me and is about as pleasant sounding as crematorium. Residence is what I called my living quarters at university.

Three Degrees Of Separation From Shakira

This just in! Yesterday and today are my make-up days for when I had to unexpectedly go back to work while on vacation to help with some software issues. So I'm not currently in the office.

But I was in the dentist's office yesterday. His daughter had just come back from the World Cup in Germany. She was there to choreograph and coach Shakira for her Berlin concert.

Just think: Me->Dentist->Daughter->Shakira. Can life turn any other surprises my way? I'll never brush my teeth again!

[I think most people will find this a welcome read from yesterday's entry.]

Where I Once Worked (Naughty, So Don't Read If You're A Prude)

I was once an inside salesperson at the western office of the Canadian wing of a then Fortune 500 company. Inside sales in this case meant taking phone orders and calling on customers, but mainly taking orders.

It was certainly an interesting experience working there after having spent so many years as a student and working out at UBC. The sales people were a raw, self-destructive bunch, preoccupied with sex, fast cars, parties, and sex. Most were a $5 cab ride from the nearest bridge. And what's so great about all those cars and parties anyways?

A Jewish co-worker there once explained to me what a Jewish Dilemma was. Free pork, he roared in laughter. He'd incessantly brag about his six-figure income generated by his rental property—"Paint the walls, that'll sucker the buyer everytime," he'd say. The schmuck once beamed that his dad would never hire anyone with a formal education. His son was apparently very "gifted"; the rabbi performing the circumcision ceremony couldn't get over the enormity of the baby's piece. Just before I left the job to go back to school again, he was going on and on whining about his wife. How stupid she was. How the only three reasons he didn't divorce her were the kid and her huge breasts.

I sat beside P., who drummed up a lot of business from his accounts, especially those with female employees placing the orders. I want to #$!? you right now, I remember him saying on the phone to one of his regular customers. He was sleeping with his team lead, E. at this time, from whom I learnt that there were two types of girls when it came to fellatio: swallows and budgies. One of E.'s friends sent a man to the hospital while vacationing in Spain when the convertible they were in swerved suddenly. [INSERT MENTAL IMAGE]

Then there was the reception goddess, X. She was beautiful, Paulina Porizkova beautiful. If only half of the following second-hand morsels about her are true, I think I will have left you with an impression. X, who slept with the VP. X who was dating a skinhead (his Bronco was five feet off the ground). X, who I've been told, was once on Oprah talking about her father who was in prison for murdering someone over a thirteen year old girl. X, whose mother was in the nut house. X who admits having done just about everything sexually, except maybe with babies. X who slept with a salesperson at a conference, and then told him to bugger off after he'd quit his job in Toronto and travelled across the country to be with her, because he crossed his legs like a woman.

Need I go on? [Sure, you say. Note: if you consider yourself to be conservative and prudish and have gotten this far, then you are in denial.]

There was S.S., who barked out one day that work sucks,everything sucks, everything except my wife.

L. who gushed with pride over her boyfriend's weekend win in Surrey for "Best 4X4", and said that she's witnessed a few orgies there.

Then there was S.A., a very intense, over-caffeinated, can't sit still, knee-bobbing, fifteen-smoke-breaks-a-day, individual who ended up in RCMP custody, all because he had just missed Hot Wing Hour at the local pub, and he wanted wings, needed wings.

Now, why the heck did I make this entry. For a laugh or two, and for the record book. BTW, my time there was truly a low point in my life—more because of the unfulfilling monotonous duties than the people.

Cheers!

Too Much Information

I spent most of last week partially deaf because of excess wax in my left ear canal. This has happened before. I decided to irrigate the ear myself Friday after work with a small rubber syringe, a hit-and-miss proposition in light of the professional equipment at the G.P.'s office. Stupidly, I flushed with cold water and got dizzy and almost threw up and had to lie down on my bed to make the nausea go away.

The good news is that I met with success. Now, I'm not the kind of guy who gratuitously discloses all the gory details about this sort of thing—how the wax looked like a small makeup removal cotton pad dirtied by facial grease and bellybutton lint, or on closer inspection, like a moldy and soggy puff of cornflake—no, I wouldn't do that anymore than I would show up at work with free cheesecake or raving about such-and-such a book. No sirree, I'd spare you the specifics.

***

Well, I finally ate some beef. I've been planning this ever since I've started lifting weights, where protein is everything. I ate one quarter of an "Open-Wide" burger at Red Robin and shared a Macho Nacho plate with the family. The burger was free and we got a three dollar discount on the nachos; Betty had "birthday" coupons. Incidentally, the bar TV had the World Cup telecast on, so I saw Italy win. Not sure if beef will become part of my regular diet.

***

Seen scrawled on a styrofoam cup on the counter near the cash register of Opa! Greek restaurant at the Metropolis Food Court: What Is "Pita" Spelled Backwards?

***

Seen on a tee shirt, among others themed with slogans about partying and inebriation, at the Richmond Night Market: Duck My Sick.

***

Seen on an American Eagle tee shirt: An Awkward Morning Beats A Boring Night.

What I did July 2, 2006

We went to Steveston at 2:00PM. Since this was the day after Canada Day, finding a good parking spot was not a problem. Betty and the kids ordered fish and chips and a clam chowder from the Shady Island take-out counter. We later had some ice cream (well, I had yogurt).

We next made our way to the airport. After a false start, we found a great plane watching location. There were a half-dozen other vehicles parked there for the same reason. Some people even had lawn chairs out.

Shaula and Matthew sat on the hood to cheer on the big planes.

I ended the day at the Jazz Festival finale event, Neko Case, the queen of retro-pop alternative country folk. She sounds as good live as her recorded material. Her soaring voice made my spine shiver not once, but twice. While re-tuning her guitar (one of the strings had broken) in front of the near fullhouse audience, between songs, she remarked that she felt as if she were on stage in her underwear. "That would be gross," she said, "it would be like 'The Cottage Cheese Report'." She looked mighty slim to me.

Seattle Premium Outlets 2

We went down to the factory outlets last Saturday, June 24th. Saw none other than Andrea in the Skechers store. The daytrip was marred somewhat by having to provide long distance support by personal cell phone for a customer beta release go-live. I'll have to look closely at the phone bill to figure out my reimbursement.

I had earmarked some money for a good cause (charity), but good people, I've blown it all on books and shoes! (Well, mostly shoes, as the nine books below, six of which are hardcovers, came out to be only US$44.)


Both softcovers.


The Rilke is a hardcover.


The Goldberg is a softcover. The Gribbin is a hardcover and comes with an A&E Biography episode on Einstein.


Both hardcovers. Stargazing—yum!


Hardcover and looks very promising.

BTW, on return, the customs officer let us through without having to dish out any taxes and duty. The shoes at the outlets were cheap compared to up here. Skechers that go for CDN$100 go for US$45, and there was more selection down south.