Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Laura has a new grandson. So we just had to take the Harley for a trip out to the valley to visit him. He's really a keeper. We stopped at the railway museum in Agazziz but even though it's a really terrific museum, Laura obviously didn't find it as entertaining as her new grandson.
The SV GIRI is once again whole. The bottom has been welded so that no more dreams are leaking out. The compression pole which holds up the mast has been replaced with a new and stronger one welded in it's place. Tom, with angelic halo and angels singing hosannas in the background said, "The guiding principle was to make her stronger where she'd broken. If she breaks now it will be somewhere else." Barry, who has his welding shop in Mosquito Creek did the final wand work. With a mixture of magic and miracles the GIRI is being restored to her previous glory.
CAA – West Coast – Social
All the usual suspects were there. Margaret (“Just Mary”) Hume, now working on her WW II Lancaster pilot father’s memoirs, did presidential duty keeping the writer rabble in check with tinkling glasses. I was all puckered up before I realized this was her ‘symbol’ for quiet, not kissing. Mumford tried to set me straight later knowing the confusion I and most writers have with ambiguous sexual metaphors.
Anthony Dalton of “Ghost Ship”, stepped up to present Frank Wade the Sangster Award for most CAA contribution. Frank admitted he probably deserved the award because he was the member who had been involved in the CAA for the most years. While the plaque was admirable, surviving decades of writers struck me as more fitting of a medal.
The White Spot food and service was as usual very good but the conversation was the best. When I asked the gentleman across from me which Navy he’d served in, he said,”the British, you know, the one with ships and guns and such.” He was with Poetess Kay who read a poem of confession of her Imelda addiction and frustration now that she was advised to wear ‘sensible shoes”. Jan from Bowen Island, a young man in his 90’s, recovering from surgery recited a love poem which had all the ladies swooning. Ben Nuttall Smith read a great tale of witches and children from Chameleon Sings his autobiographical book.
That’s when Margaret Lawrence appeared, just as Perry was reading from her latest novel. She stood in the corner with a smile on her face. Then Stephen Leacock appeared beside her followed by Robertson Davies. Not everyone saw them. “Sometimes characters from novels appear as well,” an author told me. “We had that fat girl from that early Margaret Atwood novel but she seemed mostly interested in the food. The others like seeing the tradition being passed along. “ The readings ended and the watchers were gone. Just like that.
Some fool played a shrunken guitar and sang hoarse and off key, something about wanting a bail out and “Lost a trillion.” It’s a tolerant group. Highly encouraging of others they’re forever rewriting and editing their own works. And when that’s not sufficient masochism they turn to the resident editor Bernice Lever (“Colour of Words”) who read Generations from her latest book of poetry. She’s always happy to put on her black editor’s corsette , don a pair of Kay’s old spike heeled (not sensible) boots and whip her way through an author’s new book while they shout with piggish glee. An odd group indeed
That was the meeting. A young UBC student sat next to a UBC professor emeritus plotting mystery. The writers who returned from the Toronto MagNet conference did a collective ‘glow’. Announcements of the Victoria Harbour View Can Write Conference in June next year were made. Patrick Taylor will be attending. Then the meeting broke up into the typical author shenanigans of table dancing, ghost stories and card tricks. It was all the White Spot staff could do to get them out of the building. They still lingered in conspiratory groups in the parking lot. All in all it was a good meeting. Very civilized and Canadian. No brawls or food fights. Yet.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Alcohol exists independent of man and in deed pre dates the history of man. A cloud of alcohol surrounds a star in the Aquila Galaxy, 10 thousand light years away. (Rockerbie, p1)
The discovery of late stone age beer mugs suggests alcohol was purposely fermented as early as 10,000 years ago and may have preceded bread. (wikipedia)
Around 7000 BC wine jars called Jiahu are found in China. Egyptians fermented wine by 4000 BC. Mead, fermented honey and water was popular in Greece by 2000 BC.
Alcohol by distillation was first called Al Kohl and developed by Arabian alchemists.Al Kindi (801-873) unambiguously described distillation of wine.
Whiskey, distilled grain was first recorded in Ireland and Scotland in the 1400's.
Dom Perignon developed champagne around 1668.
In 1700's the British had a Gin Epidemic and later passed legislation to limit the consumption after previously passing legislation to encourage increased production.
The Puritans carried more beer than water on the Mayflower.
In the 18th century temperance movements began in America with the beginning of the American Temperance Society 1826.
By 19th Century problems of urban crime, poverty and infant mortality were blamed on alcoholism.
Alcoholics Anonymous began in 1935.
A July 27, 2007 report uncovered heavy alcohol use by NASA astronauts.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
http://www.oneweek.ca/ One Week, directed by Michael McGowan, is a really good Canadian movie. I'd hoped for more National Geographic but instead got more in depth discussion of death and relationships. It's about a man (Joshua Jackson) whose told he has cancer and decides to drive across Canada on a motorcycle considering treatment and his recent engagement to his fiance (Liane Balaban). It's an 850 Norton, probably the one I crashed 20 years ago, restored for this movie. The Stanley Cup and Banff play key roles. Toronto to Tofino, it leaves out eastern Canada but nonetheless I'm wanting to drive my Harley across Canada every minute of the way. Hell's Gate Tunnel is featured and reminds me of how I got air bourne going through that hitting a poor road repair. I thought about the Che motorcycle movie in South America but it wasn't anything like Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider. Canadian's are too clean cut, sensitive and intellectual for that kind of action. It's just a really good movie.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tom and Graham removed the septic tank after it stopped spewing Canadian political speeches. It now resides in a dumpster. I pity the dumpster divers. The V Berth of the GIRI is cleaned to the metal and specs of light shine through singing Harry Belafonte's "There's a hole in the bucket". Soon new welded steel will shut the cheeky devils up.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I'm not so into blood you know
St. Paul's Indian Church is the oldest surviving Catholic Church in Vancouver. It just celebrated it's 125 th anniversary. Father Vincent La Plante is the priest serving this church and community. The Oblate Fathers established the Sacred Heart Mission for the Squamish Indians on the north shore (North Vancouver) of Burrard Inlet in 1863.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The GIRI Septic Tank
Tom, Graham, Randy and I all gathered to pray. The GIRI Septic Tank had been with the boat before I had it. As my shit doesn't stink I blamed the previous owner. Maybe an errant guest ate alien burger. For a few years now I’ve not used the tank. I replaced it with an Electrosan Sewage Disposal System. Whatever was in the holding tank got forgotten. I’ve carried it with me through international waters for years. Whatever has been there has had a long time to percolate. And grow. And reproduce.
Today there was considerable speculation about black holes and night water. We considered alerting the university about the possibility of a new toxic Big Bang theory. When Tom began to cut around it with a saws all an instant exodus occurred. For awhile there as he used the side grinder, we all stood back with fire extinguishers thinking machine guns would have made more sense. What eventually came left Tom with the ability to glow in the dark. One splash of the waste bore clear through to China in seconds. If I’d been thinking economically I’d have sold the thing to the military. Before passing out Tom emptied a bottle of chorox into the thing. Graham argued for iodine. Randy had long gone claiming a desire to live. I was working outside the boat claiming the teak sanding was a high priority.
That the earth and galaxy still exist today seems likely a miracle. Billions don't know how close they came to annihilation. We figured the prayer saved the planet. If I hear from Tom and Graham in the morning I will be reassured. I did tell them that they probably shouldn’t consider having children. Carrying the waste out in buckets won out over suctioning as no one would volunteer to start the suction.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Tom and Dave have been working all week at the boat. I've been at the office. They say a change is as good as a rest. Working power sanders and using screwdrivers is a change from computers. My arms are telling me that now. Dave began grinding the boat in the environmentally friendly plastic outhouse like attachment Tom made him out of 2x4's. Meanwhile Tom has had the the NDT guy around and using his ultrasound machine for measuring the width of metal has said there's lots of steel left on the old boat. However a, little welding wouldn't hurt none under the forward bilge. Welders from Trinity came by for inspection on Friday leaving Tom to clear the site for welding this coming Tuesday. He's literally torn out the fore cabin and head to access that area and opened up the area where the compression pipe broke. The roofs been jacked up and in the picture, he's looking at the new pole that Barry welded a base to. This is dropped inside the old hollow pole making it all a whole lot stronger. The mast will sit on top of this and when it's finished will be ready for Cape Horn not that I am.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Sexuality and fMRI’s and PET scans
Maravilla et al Int J Imp Res 2007
Karama et al Hum Brain Mapp 2002
Haan et al Nat Neurosci 2004
Holstege et al J Neurosc 2003
Some people have all the fun. I've learned that even as we speak other doctors are making money bringing in couples and getting them to manually stimulate each other while the researchers are looking at their functional MRI.s and PET scans. No doubt this will give rise to a whole new genre of esoteric abstract pornography. The amygdala lights up more in men. Men and women present many similiar bilateral areas of activation: anterior cingulate, medial prefrontal, orbitofrontal,insular, occipitotemporal cortices, amygdala, and ventral striatum. Men activate the thalamus and hypothalamus proportionate to their excitement.
Well this gives me hope as a man. I'd learned that women had all this extra sensory wiring at their clitoris's which didn't seem fair as it gave them the potential for apparently multiple orgasms, prolonged orgasms and heightened orgasms. Now I see that men apparently have the capacity to think about this all much more and use more of their brains to address the matter which gives whole new meaning to why men would put a peephole into a college girl's shower room and women don't tend to get up to that sort of thing. I'd previously thought the economics of supply and demand applied here. Why have a peephole when you can get the whole football team but I see from this scan research women apparently need more direct stimuli whereas men can mentally at least wax poetic about the sighting of a bare ankle. This may further explain that saying about the best sex being in the mind.
Now even as we speak some other bloke wired wholly differently from myself is putting together a wall art video replay track of a brain orgasm and trying to sell it to Walmart to meet the Fourth of July sales.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
This year's fund raiser for A Loving Spoonful (http://www.alovingspoonful.org/ )really outdid itself. Held on Robson at the Pacific Palisades, women performed high ceiling acts on dangling scarfs to the astonishment of the passers by. Passing through the flashing cameras and applause, one entered a room of donated potters bowls and sophisticated jazz. The bowls to be taken home served to hold the delicious food that had been prepared in honour of this wonderful society that gives so generously to feed those who suffer from HIV and Aids.
Early morning despair
The voice says why go on
Betrayals, deceit, punishment, persecution
The litanies of self pity and old wounds
More and more the body takes the toll
I’m am prematurely aging for what, for who?
Escaping through molasses. Pulling away from the glue.
One shoe at a time.
I stagger towards you, Lord.
Be you Death or Light.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Campbell River Baptist Church
260 South Dogwood Street Campbell River BC V9W 250-287-8831
After a fine night at Discovery Inn, I drove my Harley up Dogwood past the RCMP. I suspect the nearby police keep the church folk in line when they get carried away singing Hallelulahs.
Campbell River Baptist Church is a big and very beautiful new church. A real community treasure. Big hall for it’s large congregation and lots of basement room for young people and recreational activities. It runs the Christian School next door too.
Barry greeted me making me feel welcome. He told me he was from Cumberland and he prayed daily that Jesus would help his town overcome the drug problem that was ravaging the children and young people. One of the church leaders joined us and told me about the church’s Christian Recovery program they were organizing in conjunction with Nanaimo’s Edgewood Treatment Centre.
I saw Bill Mewhort then as he headed back of the alter so I excused myself and followed him to the baptismal staging area. We shook hands and hugged. “It’s real good of you to come.” he said. I gave him the NIV leather bound Bible I’d brought for the occasion. Then I left him to prepare himself.
Baptism is a celebration for sure but a serious matter, nonetheless. Bill, in his late 70’s looked a bit like a groom before the wedding.
The band was incredible. Praise music at it’s finest. Voices and hearts uplifted. A young dancer reminded me of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet students. Such fine interpretation.
Seven in all were baptised. A video of each of them with their words of decision proceeded the whole body immersion.
Raised Baptist I was taken back to childhood when I thought our pontificating minister seemed to forget he had a new member under water. None of these came up looking like they needed CPR. In fact the young people were smiling. Bill looked thankful.
Later the Lead Pastor, Randy Evans, presided over communion and the congregation joined in bread and grape juice.
At the end of the service I joined Bill as everyone came over to congratulate him. Agnes and I found ourselves reminiscing about our own baptisms which then reminded me of the time I swam in Jordan River
The pastoral team included Stan Parker, Robin Martens, Mark Myles. A lot of kids were present. Young people and old people and everyone happy. Someone invited us down stairs for burgers and salad. There Marsha made Bill feel welcome while I had the priviledge of meeting Dr. Carl Ivey. He and Bill's sister Catherine's friend, Sharon were a delight.
Next to me a young pastor with three lovely children and a beautiful wife was interested in my Harley having just got started himself with the indomitable, Honda Rebel . "A group of us road down to Courtenay for breakfast one day." I told him of the Westcoast Biker Church and how Terry the minister had blessed the thousands of bikes in the Ride for Dad. "There's certainly enough riders, we might be able to get a ministry going here."
“A lot of things just started happening that made me realize that something more than me was in charge," Bill told me. " I think my daughter marrying a fine Christian man and seeing how their lives turned out. The people at this church really welcomed me and made me feel cared for. I attended their Sunday School, something called Christianity 101. It was good. It all helped me make the decision. Having friends like you, too. “ he said.
After visiting Bill and the dogs at his place, I got back on the motorbike and headed south to the ferry. Campbell River Baptist Church was a fine experience. I was once President of the Almagamated Baptist Youth Groups of Winnipeg. Somehow I never found another Baptist church like my Mother's and Aunt's. The United Church and now the Anglican. If I lived in Campbell River though I’d probably have stayed Baptist. It’s that kind of welcoming church. Involved in the concerns of the community, caring for children and old people, active in the lives of the young people and quite simply filled with the spirit.
I was happy for Bill. To have such a community. What a friend we have in Jesus!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
My steel cutter, Giri, is back on land again. In Kona we had to get her prepared for her journey home. Now Tom and Dave are fixing the mast with the help of Barry. There's the rust spots and bottom paint to be done too.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
The West Coast Ride for Dad, Fighting Prostate Cancer, started 9 am Sunday May 31,2009 from the grand Trev Deely Harley Davidson Dealership and Museum on Boundary Road. Terry Mahoney, pastor from Westcoast Biker Church, blessed the ride. There seemed to be thousands out. Twice the number of last year. The Prostate Cancer Research Foundation now plans its activities around the support brought in by Ride for Dad.