Gratitude, Vancouver, Trucks and Snow

Thank you God for creation. Thank you for sleep and dreams, Thank you for this body. Thank you for this day. Thank you awakenings. Thank you for my little dog Gilbert. Keep him well. Help his eye and back to heal.  Thank you for family. Watch over Graham in his travels and help Andrew and Allan in their studies. Thank you for the God kids. Keep them well, Thank you for my friends.
Thank you for the friendship of Tom. We spent a weekend looking at trucks. Marrio at GMC and Jessica at Ford have been most helpful.  I test drove both the F350 and the 3500. They’re both amazing machines with all the power I need for towing my RV. They have wonderful features. We loved the sky roof in the 2017 Ford Lariat and the interior of the GMC was like an SUV.  I love the new guidance systems for backing up and the sensor systems for telling that cars and objects are too close. I like the windshields and mirrors better vision a real safety improvement.
It’s the cost that’s an issue. With trade in of my truck worth $20000 I’m getting low balled and the difference is $50,000 I ‘d have to finance over 5 years with the hope that I’d be able to pay it off quicker.
"But $50,000!” I say. “I could get a sex change operation in Thailand for that.”  My patient came back with a marvellous transformation and the cost was only $60,000.  I love Leonard Cohen’s song, “I want a new face”. I could use a whole new identity.  In a matriarchal communist society with everyone offended castration seems inevitable for me an older white man, perhaps if I embrace the matter and go voluntarily I will finally conform to the demands for men in Canada to be women and perhaps like it better.  I might even meet a man with a truck.
On the other hand $50,000 could cover two years of sailing the seven seas. What am I doing here serving the sick and doing my Christian duty using my training and experience for the betterment of man. This 50% taxation and the government taking the money and giving my money to support overseas tyrants, billions this year alone in foreign aid and foreign aid is so corrupted and corruptible.  I really don’t like losing the money I earn but like little this government using it for purposes unacceptable to me as a Christian.  Spending the money on a truck is better because that employs people in a good endeavour and helps me personally.  Yet to have the money I must support this insufferable regime of thieves who are promoting abortion and drug abuse.
I should save the money for old age. I fear that any money Canadians bank on old age will be taken by the government. It is better to hide gold bullion under the bed or bury silver in the back yard. The government has become rapacious and is ruining the old who have no means to fight back.  Everywhere I see the old suffering and fear getting older in Canada.  The waitlists and shortages of services in health care and the high costs of treatment are frightening. I understand that the government wants to give us marijana and physician assisted suicide because they’re not wanting to spend the money on doctors or nurses but their own vacations and nannies.  Theres 20 times the beurocrats in our failing system as there are in the superior German system.  But everything with the Liberals is vote seeking so health care isn’t as lucrative as giving heroin sites and marijuana.  It’s all above my pay grade but it really makes paying high taxes insufferable given that the money is going to outrageous causes rather than building roads, education, health care and navies, the real things government is supposed to be doing not all this political correctness shit.
I could just work in the least capacity just continuing to pay the rent and take time off and have from With $50,000 I could take 5 to 10 major trips in the next 2 years at $5 to$10000 each rather than having a new truck.  I see increasingly that people who can’t afford houses or choose not to are enjoying the time travelling. II love to travel and owning a house was a full time job with little left over for anything but the house.  Some of my worst experiences are dealing with the constructions and repairs that go with houses, so many scoundrels out to pilfer the home owners and none of the laws to protect people unless they want to make an industry of small claims courts or hire a legion of lawyers.  Once a house was an asset but in the end my last house was a ‘target’.  The property taxes alone were obscene. Still with $50,000 I could put a downpayment on a house in Saskatchewan or Manitoba. In Vancouver I'd need $500,000 for a down payment.
So everywhere I look I see criminals driving new trucks, either criminals or bureaucrats.  Neither will get to heaven.  There’s a joke that shows a kid and his father. The father is reading the newspaper. The kid says, “I’ve decided to go into crime.” The father replies. “Public or private”.  “Steal a little and they put you in jail, steal a lot and they make you king’.
I think my first mistake was to give my life to saving lives.  Those who kill and destroy lives are doing much better than the rest of us in this world.
I saw no change with Obama, simply a black face on a corruption called Washington DC,  maybe marginally better than the corruption called Ottawa here.   The corruption in government is rife.  The attempt was to put a female face on Washington and call that change.   Now we have something really possibly different.  I am actually hopeful. Mostly because he’s against killing babies, people who don’t kill babies are more sensitive to other human life.
I like the variety of sexual and artistic and creative expression but it was moving from freedom to enforcement.  I watched as the Woman’s March excluded Christians for Trump.  The woman’s march was frightening all the man hate and apologies. Blamers abound today.
I’m thankful for this body.  I’m thankful for the possibility of a truck. I’m thankful for the trailer I live in. I’m thankful for the second hand truck I drive. I ‘m thankful for the food. I’m thankful for my friend Laura. We had a lovely weekend together.  She, Gilbert the dog, and George the cat and I hung out watching Netflix. The snow storm was really something this weekend.  We didn’t make it to church.  I laughed that they pretty much closed down Richmond where no one can drive without the snow and it was bedlam with these weather conditions.  I enjoyed talking with Tom. Laura and I went out and got a new bag. I need to carry files and have injured my neck carrying books and computers so many years. This is a bag with wheels and a handle and the capacity for locking.  It’s for my new itinerant practice. I’m going from clinic to clinic and shutting my office down because it’s just not brought peace of mind.  It’s highly costly and I can’t supervise staff and so often things don’t get done. Even Gilbert stopped liking being in the office.  It’s not a particularly caring place.  I realized in the past people have cared more and my office  was a happy place to go.  I liked the atmosphere in former offices but here the landlady is just a greedy person and she didn’t have the zoning for a medical office but wasted mine and all my patients time and resources to get herself money.  I don’t enjoy being a part of that sickness.  
Maybe if health care costs hadn’t been ‘rent controlled’ for the last 30 years with me making less today than when I started as a doctor I’d be more understanding. It’s a city for landlords but I agree with the Americans who say NAFTA is a farce because the government pays health care whereas Americans pay for their own. I was paid 3 times what I am here with 10% taxes in the US and overseas as a physicianI I’d have none of the regulation and social communism and cultural marxism which has destroyed a once great country. Political correctness is demonic.
I don’t know. I woke this morning with a muddle in my mind afraid to face the day. My office is so disrupted by this landlady and psychiatry has been destroyed to become a kind of junior neurology of psychopharmacology. Years of training as a psychotherapist and no one can talk any more because of fear of language and thought police.  I gave up doing surgery. I may as well accept that sharia medicine is here. So many of my colleagues tell me they don’t examine women, male and female doctors, avoid touching women for fear they will be offended.
I remember in India with my muslim doctor friend who thought it was ludicrous but the husband was examining his wife on the other side of a sheet hung for their privacy. The doctor was asking the husband what he could feel. That’s Canada’s health care system today.
It’s subtle.  You look at a psychiatric history 10 years ago and before and there’s a ‘sexual medicine’ survey or a question about ‘sex’ but today the university consults have nothing about sex. Asexuality is the norm.
I write prescriptions for methadone and enjoy this. It’s getting people off needles. I don’t have to think that much. I don’t need 75% of my medical training to do this function but I remember the happy doctor who gave up surgery to do hair transplants . He said he’’d grown tired of watching people die on waitlists and fighting with the hospital administrations for surgery room. Once a fine surgeon he was a happy hair transplant guy.
I feel that way.
The college is full of doctors who have given up. One told me “it’s just a job’.  There’s no calling. No profession. No higher realm of reaching for the stars. Just another beaurocratic job.  Policing and passing paper and sitting in committee meetings where everyone in government does this group reassurance.  White Ganging behaviour.
I’ve a bad attitude.
The weight of the waste and the deaths from fentanyl are weighing on me.

I have to write gratitude lists to get to work. Thank you for this computer. Thank you for these fingers. Thank you for sobriety. Thank you for the thought of a new truck. I worry my own now  won’t start.  It’s not started so often when I’ve needed it. No reason.  I just don’t use it enough to keep it charged up with this slow energy leak that a couple of trips to the shop hasn’t found an answer to.  It was fixed last year and ran for a year and a new battery this year has made it well. It works perfectly when I ride it weekly but let it sit for a while and then it’s ornery.
Laura and I had a lovely day in the snow walking down town and having a burger at red robbin. It was a nice day out.  The truck was joy in this weather. No one was downtown because of the treacherous driving conditions . I was so thankful for my truck.
I’ve got clothing and shoes and warmth and running water and indoor plumbing. I have friends in hospital and others fighting cancer. I”m blessed with these ‘cadillac concerns’.  I am so thankful for all the blessings I have. I talk with Jesus. I live with the Lord. I know I am safe in the arms of an angel. I feel my mother and father continue in a parallel realm or heaven or somewhere. Maybe they’re joined in my being but I feel the love of them and my aunt and grandparents and cousins. i feel part of this greater whole and sometimes dream of actual meetings where we’re all clapping and laughing drinking coffee in heaven. I especially love the old ladies there drinking tea.  
Heaven for me is a green room after the performance. All of lifes’ a stage.  I've done tragedy so now I'd like more comedy.
I am thankful for this relationship with the unseen god. The Cloud of Unknowing. The Mystery of the Now. The Present, the gift. I am thankful for God and hope that today I will do my best and know what it is I am to do and do it well. Thank you Jesus. 

Let there be light (in the bathroom)

Normally I’d just phone Eric at Starfleet Repairs.  He’s amazing. Comes out and fixes something like this and charges me a hundred dollars or so, given he drives out and does the repairs. However he’d solved my frozen water line problem before Christmas.
Then I was away in New York City so I’d not sent him the cheque for this.   I figured I’d just fix it myself rather than asking Eric to do something before he’d received the cheque. The cheque really was in the mail. First thing I did when I got back to the office.
I like to keep my hand in too. I’ve done all these kind of repairs since fixing things with my father and my brother as a kid.  It’s like bicycling. You don’t forget. It just takes time to remember.
The light was fried.  Darkness. Eric has replaced a couple of these overhead lamps with newer better ones.
I looked up on the internet where the closest RV supply store was.
North Shore RV Ltd was the closest.  Beautiful young woman in charge.  Confused me with a a whole lot of choices.  She had bathroom lights in stock. She had a catalogue of alternatives. She asked me if I wanted incandescent bulb or LED. I was confused and thankful she showed me the two choices.

"Which is brightest?  I need light to shave?”  I asked.
“LED, maybe. They’re about the same. But the LED  doesn’t get hot  like incandescent so less risk of fire.”
“Sold.”  I didn’t know.  Fire scares me.

Now I go home.   I learned years ago to turn off the breakers.  (I won’t get into that story.)
I love my screw driver. I have Pickwick 6 pack plus all over the place. A couple on the boat, in truck, in the garage, in the kitchen drawer. Pickwick is my favourite.
 I like screwing.  Unscrewing is fun too.
I had the old light off the ceiling in no time.  They hid the screws under the clear plastic bit but I found them.
Now I had wires. I have spliced and crimped connectors on wires by the hundreds on my boat.  It turns out now turns that my crimper and the connectors are all on the boat.
So I have to go to Lordco to get a crimper and  connectors. The trouble is the truck wouldn't start. It’s not been used in weeks and the diesel engine is a pig in cold.  I used my Miata to charge the battery but it didn't start.

It’s been 31 years since Barbara did heroin. Randy and a whole lot of other people were going for dinner to celebrate but I didn’t want to drive the sportscar on the ice last night when I couldn’t get the truck to start because the battery was dead.  It’s still dead.  Walking Gilbert along the trail today was more like skating. Some mallards flew up when we went by.  Gilbert thinks all of this is an adventure. I'd  thrown the yellow squeaky tennis ball for him for a bit and that made his day. He’s talked with a three other dogs today.

Yesterday I talked with an older guy who lived in Smithers about trucks.
“Diesel don’t like the cold.”
“Some Fords’ are really good but I’ve always liked my GMC."
“I’m thinking of trading my Ford Diesel in for a GMC gas.  If I was getting another diesel I’d go Dodge for the Cummings engine but I think I’m going back to gas. Used to like diesel when the fuel was cheap and the engines didn’t have all the environmental extras."
“I like my GMC. It’s diesel but the glow plugs are the best. Still my friend’s gas always starts faster.  Don’t have block heaters down here like we do up north. I still think I’ll go gas next time. "


The Lordco Store  is on North Road  in Burnaby.  Lordco people are always friendly.   Two guys and girl offered suggestions on which crimper and which box of connectors to get. I was the only customer at that time.   I spend $26 bucks.

Gilbert loves all this driving about and walking and pissing everywhere.  He’s my buddy.

Back in the bathroom,  with the breaker still off, I cut the wires.  I am always surprised that I don’t electrocute myself. Having electrocuted myself, a little personal shock therapy for my own insanity moment (forgetting to turn off breakers) , I’m always really happy not to be dancing and jumping up and down like I’ve tazered myself.   I use the wire cutting par tof the crimping tool.  The crimping tool is like a swiss army knife for electricians.
Oh oh. The wire coming out of the ceiling is black and white and the wire in the new lamp is black and red.  Normally you’d think black to black.
However,  electricians all belong to the Freemasons and were Lawyers at one time and now are Bildernbergs so they have this whole gnostic thing going on.  If it’s AC like house wiring black to black might work and red is red but with DC it’s different.  So I clean away some insulation on the wire and tie the wire bits together , black to black and white to red.  I think about this and look it up on the internet which is really confusing because there's all this  FAKE NEWS all over the internet especially in the electrical sections. Now this is  about the simplest of wiring problems so it's where they do try to kill off the stupid.
There’s wiring for liberals and wiring for conservatives, Tory and Whig wiring and Republican and Democrat wiring. There are diagrams put together by philosophy students. It’s all utter bullshit.  I don’t trust any of it.
 I pull on the wire. I like pulling on wires.
Sure enough the black wire is attached to a white red wire.  Pretty sneaky. Maybe it’s a DC thing. Or Ottawa.  It could just be the guy who put in the lamp was left handed or an Australian.  Often with wiring the guy who does the repair has the wrong colour of wire but uses it anyway.  It pays to double check everything when it comes to the simplest wiring task.
So now with a little tape I try putting together different wiring combinations and turning on the breakers. Amazingly one combination the red to the black to the red actually works. There is light. Light, glorious light!!!
So now I crimp the connectors together,   Yes I remembered to turn off the breakers.  Then I crimp the other ground wire together. I ‘m really thankful there are no green wires this time. The Green Wire folk are energy conscious or something.  Green wires are often sneaky useless redundant wires.  I’m confused enough but I pray the wires are connected.  I turn the breakers on. By Gods’ grace I'm not electrocuted, there is no arc and I don't set the bathroom on fire
I’m ready to finish it up but I need electrical tape. I especially love the liquid electrical tape.  But I don’t seem to have either.
I have duct tape. I consider Duct Tape an essential life ingredient but normally I have black electrical tape too. There’s none in the tool box, none in the junk drawer, none in the garage. I actually get dressed and take Gilbert for another walk and don’t find any in the truck. I am amazed because I always have electrical tape. I know where. It’s on the boat with the crimping tools and electrical connectors. But I can’t find any here. I walk to the local store and they have Duct tape but no electrical tape.

Walking home I meet Mac.
“Happy New Year,” he says and ,”Hi Gilbert”.
Mac has a dog and Gilbert and his dog play together. Like all dog owners we acknowledge the dogs of their owners.  Mac  pets Gilbert while talking to me.
“Have you got any electrical tape, really handy.”  I ask.
“In my truck."
“No don’t bother.”  Mac’s always helping me. He keeps an eye on things. I don’t want him to go out of his way. I have the duct tape.
“It’s no bother,” Mac says. He’s dressed like me in a parka and mits and togue and it’s cold. We can see each other’s breath. You aren’t supposed to see breath in Vancouver. This isn't a Winnipeg or Edmonton.  It’s too damn cold for Vancouver.
“I’ve got duct tape." I say, " I’ve already crimped the connectors.  I just wanted to tape it up too. Duct tape is non conductible, isn’t it?"
“Yea, duct tape would work."

I part.  I take Gilbert and go into the warm.  I love the warm. I take off 100 lbs of clothing and feel great back in shorts and t shirt. I get the Duct Tape and prepare to wrap.
Then I remember.
I have electrical tape in the motorcycle bags.  I just have to find the motorcycle keys. I hide them.  Sometimes it takes me a while to find them.
I put on some sweat pants and slip ons and go outside in my t shirt with Gilbert . He's delighted to have another chance to pee  and sniff stuff. I look in the Harley luggage.  Sure enough, there’s the black electrical tape.
Back in the warm, I wrapped the wires I’ve connected with connectors with black electrical tape.
Next I can’t get the clear plastic top off the dome lights and break a tab before I can get both out.
The mounting holes are purposely hidden inside the light.
I'm pleased with myself because I haven’t lost the screws I took out earlier. I actually remembered to put a towel in the sink so I didn’t clog the sink with falling screws. There are so many things in life you know to do from having done the wrong thing in the past.  I created a plumbing problem once working over my sink. Not this time.
I like screwing. I  screwed the new lamp to the ceiling after pushing the wires up in the hole.  I actually put the breakers back on and tested the light to see it actually still worked before I finalized the job.  Wow!
I actually have light, in my bathroom.  I have light in my bathroom. It's brighter and it shows the dirt more.
It took me about  three hours.  I started before noon and it’s now nearly 4 pm.
I did change the propane tank because the heat went off while I was working.
 also stopped for lunch. I’d boiled some eggs this week so I squished up three of them in a bowl.  I mixed them with salt and pepper and mayonnaise and buttered some toast to put around this concoction. I had these egg salad sandwiches sitting looking out the window while Gilbert had a little caesar beef dish.
I have shaved with a flash light since the light packed it in on Tuesday.  I showered in candlelight. That was kind of romantic, except I was alone.
I’m rather pleased with the light.  Changing a light fixture is about the simplest most basic job a guy can do with electrical wiring but it is really fulfilling.  It’s almost as much fun as target shooting bottles at the gravel pit.

Eric would have done this in 15 minutes. He’s amazing.  Tom was supposed to come over today and we were going to replace the light and go look at trucks. Tom’s an engineer and can fix anything mechanical or electrical. He finds hearts and souls a challenge but if it’s governed by the laws of physics, he’s got it beat.
He phoned me to say that he got a flat on the way to the highway, changed his tire and then got another flat with his spare so he’s packing it in. He’s gone back to his cabin in the country and isn’t going to venture out again today. Having to fix two flats in this winter weather after only your first cup of coffee is enough to send anyone back to the house.

I called Kevin on my iPhone to coordinate after church lunch time.  It's Laura's birthday and we want to celebrate.  He was out with Anna and the kids.They’ve taken them to the bird sanctuary down south. I told Kevin the last time I was there was with my brother.  We were taking pictures of sand hillcranes. The call ended with him saying, “I”ve got to go. A sand hill crane is attacking Anna and the kids.”
I wouldn’t think any of the people I talked to would have voted Justin Trudeau and the Liberals. I suspect one listens Barry Mannilow.
I liked all the people I talked to today.
God is good. God is good all of the time.
Let there be light (in my bathroom). And there was!!!!

Nebraska - the movie

My friend, Anil, told me I had to see the Nebraska movie.  I bought it today.  Black and white.  Could have been my brother and my dad. They had a trip like this the year before he died.  Dad wanted to see something. There was no lottery involved. Just Dad wanting to go somewhere and my brother, Ron, taking him. It was a cross country trip like such trips could be with Dad. I travelled with him.  Not a lot of words. He was military too, like this father. Didn’t waste words.  Didn’t waste anything really. They’d seen a lot of waste in the war and had a lot of want in the depression.
The movie told the story of people. Farming people.  Bruce Dern was great. But they all were. Acting parts we all grew up with. Anyone whose known farming people, that’s what they’re like. My friend, Anil’s farming folk are from half a globe away.  I don’t think it matters. The small towns and the womenfolk.  The minimalism of it all. And the big sky.  God the sky was big when I was growing up on the prairies.  The distances were immense. The spaces between people could be like that too. Especially when people had known war.
And history changes. The different memories. The lies and fantasies and the way the mind plays tricks. Old people. It was a movie of old people but young people too.  Different now.  Not the young people back then. Back then it was just about chasing somen and cars. Now it’s still cars but other stuff.
I loved the movie.  Like I’ve grown to love my relatives and family as I’ve grown older.  I really thank the folk who made Nebraska. They got a whole lot right about what I remember from my childhood.  The last days with Dad were like this. The scene with the brothers all in the living room watching tv.  I’ve been a kid in that room with Dad and his brothers. The women in the kitchen chattering away, a real contrast to the silences of the men.
I expect it will win the Oscars.  Otherwise a hat and some love would do.  All a man really needs is family, a place to call home and a new truck.
Watching this movie I missed my dad and mom, my farming grandparents and the uncles and their wives.  I’m big city folk now compared to the last time I visited the farm.  All the old folk are dead and us young folk are called old by another generation.