Go Directly to Jail

A couple of days ago, my ladyfriend and I headed to Starbucks for a coffee, which is about an 8-block walk from our place. On the way back, we took the less busy route which took us through the West Coast Express parking lot. About a block from home, after passing through the lot, two police cruisers approach us and ask if we’d just came from the parking lot. Confused, we say yes. My wife asks, “are you looking for someone?”, and the officer in the first cruisers answers “yes … you.” He says this while looking at me.

Both officers park their cruisers and get out, with one explaining they had a call about an argument and physical violence between a young woman and a guy with a bald head and a red shirt.

Yes, I was wearing a red shirt.

The cops separate us and question us individually. My cop asks what we were doing, where we’re going, if I’d had an argument with my wife, if I’d seen anyone else in the parking lot, and records my home address and phone number. Meanwhile the other officer is asking my wife if she’s okay, if I’d done anything to her, if we’d fought, etc. It doesn’t take long before they realize - probably from the deer-in-the-headlight look we’re both sporting - that whatever report they had about us was wrong. Their first clue should have been that we were holding hands when they pulled up, but whatever. The one that questioned my wife is quick to dismiss us, while my policeman is a little less eager to leave. Nevertheless they return to their cruisers, pull a u-turn and speed back to the parking lot.

Afterward we’re left wondering who would have called in a false report like that, and so quickly too: we were maybe two minutes of walking out of the lot when the cops arrived. Our only guess is, the one person in the lot (some weirdo on a push-scooter) called it in on a cellphone to ensure the cops wouldn’t be in the lot while he broke into a car or committed some other crime. Or maybe he was just pulling a prank. Who knows. It was certainly an odd situation, and it was one time I didn’t really enjoy feeling wanted.

Generation Gaps

Now that I’m 30, I’ve been thinking of pop culture landmarks in my life that do not apply to a segment of the population younger than me. That is, there’s a cutoff in age, younger than me, where people have no idea what the items on this list are, or what they represent. Even if it’s on a T-shirt, they’ll still never fully understand.

Duck Hunt.
Gremlins.
Slurpees made with actual pop, rather than just syrup.
Kel-Bowl-Pac cereal boxes.
The “Where’s the Beef?” Ad campaign.
The amazement of seeing a man turn to metal in Terminator 2.
The tone/pulse switch on telephones.
Crystal Pepsi.
Really big eyeglasses.
Rewinding tape.
Seatbelts that only went across your lap.
Super Socco drinks.
Neon coloured ski jackets.
Canada Fitness Tests and their four levels of awards.
The initial controversy over The Simpsons.
Movies for kids that weren’t based on comic books or novels.
Olympic boycotts.
One and two dollar bills.
MTV or Muchmusic actually showing music videos.
Banking passbooks.
Floppy disks - both sizes.

The Post-Road Trip Report

Here’s a rundown of the trip to the geographical centre of our province. It was a week to remember, for both good and for bad reasons.

Leaving work early on Friday, we made stops in Aldergrove to pick up sausage and in Mission to pick up our sausage dog. Surprisingly, the roads out of town weren’t any busier than a standard afternoon rush hour. Still, we were on the road for nearly six hours before getting to Kamloops. Fuel purchased: $60.

Kamloops was hot and sunny. We broke out the sunscreen for the first time since Mexico, and in fact if you exchanged the pulp mill and dead pine trees for sandy beaches and free drinks, the climate felt very similar to the Mayan Rivieria. We enjoyed some barbecued bison burgers and a few coolers in my mother’s back yard, which is probably the most lush garden in the city. Fuel purchased: none.

Monday at 8am we set out for Quesnel, heading through Little Fort and 100 Mile House. Little Fort featured a roadside “UFO sighting” informational display. When I saw the sign I was excited - “there’s a UFO in Little Fort?!” - but the actual display was barely larger than a patio umbrella. Well, I guess Little Fort’s gotta stay little. From there it was on to Williams Lake, stopping for lunch, before meeting Ian and Allana at Quensel. We hopped in their vehicle and headed to Barkerville. Fuel purchased: $60.

It was quite a change going from 30 degrees and sun in Kamloops to overcast, rain, and even leftover snowbanks in Barkerville. It wasn’t really that bad - the rain only lasted about half an hour - and the poor conditions probably kept the tourists away, giving us ample time to gawk at all the gold rush era houses. There weren’t a lot of actors playing their parts that day, which was a bit of a letdown (read: no hurdy gurdy girls) but we still had a good time. It was interesting to note that none of the door frames in Barkerville were taller than six feet. Gold miners must’ve been short. After seeing all we could, it was back to Quensel to get our vehicle and head to PG.

Once in PG, and after a night of sleep, it was time to check out everything the town had to offer: Mr. PG, UNBC, the museum/science centre, unemployment, the bowling alley, misery, the park along the Fraser, and the mall. In all, Prince George is a lot like most other cities outside of the Vancouver area. It’s hard to envision what’s going to happen to it, and cities like it, as the forestry industry slowly crumbles. During my stay, I turned 30, and was treated to copious amounts of meat products and homemade lemon curd cupcakes. I also bowled better than I’d ever bowled before. It was a very enjoyable and low key birthday, which is just the way I wanted it. “Props” to Ian and Allana for hosting and entertaining us. Fuel purchased: none.

Thursday - time to head to Kamloops. Without stopping for anything more than fuel or pee breaks, we made it about 40km past 100 Mile House when the electrical bits of the car started to die. The windshield wipers … the tachometer … the temperature gauge … and finally the accelerator. We pulled over at a small resort on Lake Des Roches, where the car finally died. The friendly guy there tried to jump start us, but we ended up needing a tow back to 100 Mile, dropping the car at a GM dealer/repair shop and walking across the street to a Super 8 motel. We spent a grumpy night thinking of the worst. The next day we pleaded with the mechanic to fix our car, and thank the God of Automobiles, they did fix it - it was the alternator that had died. Paying the “help, we’re stranded in a small town” premium, we were back on the road by 10:30am and rolled into Kamloops two hours later. A brief lunch and we were off to Mission to drop off the dog and have dinner. Finally, we arrived back home and slept in a real bed for the first time in a week. Fuel purchased: $90.

Final tally:
Fuel purchased: $210
Motels stayed in: 1
Bears sighted: 2
Deer sighted: countless
Moose sighted: 1
Roadkill sighted: marmot, cat, coyote
Alternators replaced: 1
Husband-Wife fights: 0

So there you have it. What long road trip wouldn’t be complete without car troubles? Not any of my road trips, that’s for sure! There’s photos of our adventure on Flickr, so check them out when you get a chance. And thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday either in person, on this blog, or on Facebook.

Post from the road

It’s the halfway mark of our road trip. We arrived in Prince George yesterday night, after a long-ass drive from Kamloops and a stop in Barkerville. Due to inclement (read: shitty) weather I’m in Ian and Allana’s living room looking at their kitties and eating cookies.

Today I think we’re going to UNBC to look at their … uh, stuff, then going to have our photo taken in front of Mr. PG. Tomorrow’s my 30th birthday and to celebrate we may eat meatballs and/or farmer’s sausage. It will be the meatiest birthday ever.

On haitus

We’re headed to the interior, first to Kamloops then on to Prince George, over the next week. There will likely be no posts during that time.

Expect a full report of the excitement we’re bound to have during out visit to - get this - three pulp mills in two cities! It’s like we’re getting extra pulp for free!

Not Moving

Last September I wrote about the fear and panic instilled in me when our landlord told us she intended to sell the condo we’re renting from her. A few days later we managed to smooth things over and (needless to say) she didn’t sell. Well, with our 12 month lease coming to an end in a few weeks, it turns out she’s willing to renew our lease for another year. This is a huge relief, not only because I crave stability but also because rent in the area has increased. Looking for a new place at this point would be balls. So unless there’s an 11th hour change of heart, we’ll be staying put for another year. Huzzah!

On the weekend I decided it was time to try growing some plants. At that point our plant collection totaled four, with one on life support. Our ability to keep houseplants alive hasn’t exactly been good. God-awful might be a better term. The new additions are some fuschias, a passionflower (to replace the one I killed two years ago), and a coleus. I’m trying hard to be optimistic about keeping these alive, but history speaks for itself. These plants should take a moment to look at their competition, because by the end of the summer at least one may meet its end.