Nobody makes a better apology than Pete, wouldn’t you agree? It was wonderful, the surprise trip to Vancouver; to have you able to come on such short notice was even more wonderful.
Vancouver is not only the most convenient place for you and I to meet, but it is a really gorgeous city; every time I am there, I find more to like about it.
The Museum of Anthropology was good; all three of us, with our diverse interests, were able to thoroughly enjoy it.
Just as well Pete stayed in the hotel room when we went to see Holy Body Tattoo, though I found it extraordinarily beautiful and moving.
I came so close to choosing dance for a career, and this troupe is a reminder of the limitless possibilities in the field. It was truly “breathtaking.”
Thank you for your innocent-seeming mention to Pete of Dr. Emoto’s water messages; south Cal is so much more in touch with other ways of being and doing.
Pete was appropriately chastised when he learned many thoughtful and intelligent people have found Emoto’s startling work to be both valid and useful.
It was good to talk election, too; having both our countries involved in the process makes for great discussion; great discussion makes for great thirst; great thirst calls for great tequila and so it went, as I recall.
The election doesn’t interest Pete a whole lot and in this respect, too, he fits into the Yukon more neatly than I do; this is not a populace demonstrating much passion for politics. It’s not a subject which generally occupies a whole lot of my time, except when there is to be an election; I find everything around an election, of almost any kind, anywhere, exciting and worthy of enthusiastic debate.
An election provides us with an opportunity to challenge and be challenged, to defend our positions, or adopt new ones.
It is heady stuff.
Maybe it’s a Canadian thing; any demonstration of passion is seen to be somewhat disturbing. Enthusiasm, conviction, excitement – openly expressed – is treated with a chilliness in keeping with the northern climate.
In Watson Lake it seems debate is like a loaded gun; it makes everyone near it very nervous. The idea that disagreeing can be fun and a learning experience, is one that the average Laker simply cannot encompass.
Debate is a fight, pure and simple; you must come out of your chosen corner with your dukes up. There must be right and wrong, a winner and a loser, and someone has to get hurt. Ultimately, the sense is that to disagree with someone means you must dislike that person.
Election time is a lonely time for some of us.
I have been watching and listening for months now, and I am now (since our great discussion in Vancouver) of the (temporary) belief that nothing much will change for Canada, or the USA.
Harper will get his majority government and the Republicans will stay in power in the States. This train of thought is the one I board when I leave the cheerful landscape created by tequila.
Folks in both countries are worried; they are worried about terrorism, the disappearance of “family values”, the economy, and a little bit about the possibility of environmental collapse. When people are fearful, they are not proactive, they do not want change.
They tend to hunker down, prepared to endure what they know rather than take a new direction.
It’s a “better the evil you know” approach to survival.
People want comforting words they understand, describing familiar ideas, and coming from a face most closely resembling theirs; the more symmetrical that face is, the better.
Speaking of the symmetry of the human face, is it not just a little bit sad to learn that even the parents of asymmetrical (read homely) children treat them less well than symmetrical (read cute) children are treated?
We knew, whether we acknowledged it or not, that attractive people simply get a better deal in life, but what happened to the blind love of a mother?
The study showed, for example, some of the asymmetrical kids are not strapped into their car seats as often and are left unattended in shopping carts and playgrounds more frequently than prettier children.
Years ago, reading Malcolm Gladwell’s “Blink,” I was confirmed in my belief that tall men get treated better than short men.
In Gladwell’s research of the CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, he found almost all CEOs were first of all white, no surprise, and secondly, tall.
There was only one exception and that was American Express CEO Kenneth Chenault, who is short, and black. One exception.
I’m choosing not to do any follow-up information-seeking about the treatment of asymmetrical children – it’s bound to be depressing.
From Christmas card photos, Pete’s daughter, the one he rarely sees and the one I have yet to meet even after seven years of marriage to her father, appears to be very symmetrical. Like Pete, she is tall, though apparently this does not work as well for women as it does for men.
Back to the tequila-less train; the failure of the proposed buy — out of Wall Street promises election campaign fodder.
If we are to believe the media, the economic collapse the world is being threatened with if the American taxpayers don’t save Wall Street will be upon us faster than the promised deadliness of global warming.
We are indeed living in interesting times.
Meanwhile, we are living in Watson Lake, a place demonstrating climate change with some unseasonably warm weather.
This mildness, combined with some dazzling colours from the trees that aren’t evergreen, is making this a most pleasant place to be right now.
There is a fly in every ointment, however, and in this instance the fly is flies – black flies. They gain access to places on a fully-clothed, hatted and gloved human body that ought to be inaccessible.
Crusted blood and tiny carcasses indicate where they have lived and died and these miniscule funeral sites cause monumental itching.
For some reason, black flies prefer my blood to Pete’s, leaving my post-walk face looking like a pizza – a very asymmetrical look which leads me to fear Pete will abandon me in one of the aisles of As U Wish.
The promise of a dog is still valid; it has been postponed till Pete’s next time home. We were going to the animal shelter the day after we got back from Vancouver but the night in the hotel in Whitehorse left us wanting to get back to our quiet home as soon as possible.
After going to a late movie, we weren’t able to sleep all night; the dark was rent with the sounds of some rite of unhappiness that involved screaming obscenities while punching and kicking holes in a flimsy wall. The police were called. They did not arrive for hours, and took more hours to resolve the situation.
So much for all the stories about the cops using their Tasers too readily; if ever there was a time to subdue by whatever means, this was one of them.