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Thursday, Gym in the morning. Note to self, don't go to gym on Tuesday/Thursday morning as the steam room/sauna doesn't open until 1:30. They have it on a sign but I stopped reading as soon as I got muscles.
Did I tell you about my muscles?
People are getting out of my way at the gym, lemme tell you...if they don't budge I bench press them AND the machine....Nobody kicks sand in my-face!!!!
Japan Called, I'm on standby for when Godzilla rises again...
It's true, I had to register my muscles with the Nelson Police Department as a deadly weapon...one of the cops spotted me in the gym and told me they weren't street legal anymore...
Did you hear about that kid that died after getting run over by the school bus? No? BECAUSE I SAVED HIM BY LIFTING THE SCHOOL BUS UP!!!!
When I saw the doctors about them they told me it was just muscles but then they all wanted to get their pictures taken with me. Naked.
...You can touch it if you want. It's called a "BICEP".
So I've picked up a part-time gig at the laundromat where I just stand against the wall and women come in to wash their knickers on my 6-pack...
You know, I derive very little satisfaction from going to the gym, the process. But - once it's over - I derive a great deal of pleasure telling my friends about it...Therein I think lies it's value.
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Beachcombing - after all the rain a few finds. A couple of worked flakes, a curiously glassy piece of chert or Jasper - no signs of work, but a few thousand years of sand may have worn away any sharp edges. And a serrated blade. Upper right - serrated blade - notice the right edge has been knapped.
A few worked flakes to the left.
On the left side there's a few pieces of glittering black amphibole...a long rock, a piece of quartz that if polished would probably be crystal clear, a piece of smoky quartz, some unworked pieces of chert, and - my retirement plan, a flat rock that's shaped like Alberta. Lower left. Turn it around in your mind. Do you see it?
That will be worth a fortune.
The blade is of interest...
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To work, the car limping along like I'm an Alberta tourist on vacation gazing gobsmacked at the view.
The speed limit the entire way. I could drive this road blindfolded at double the speed. Pulling over every 5 minutes to let traffic pass, then onto the highway again.
This is bloody murder.
The trip, a full half hour, never getting past 3rd gear. But I get there...
Now, the next 4 days better be lucrative because I have a sinking feeling that I may need a new transmission...
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This morning, the Periodontist. A 2 hour exam and consult, all can be fixed, for a price - and - pending a few changes in lifestyle. An electric toothbrush. Regular flossing. And quit fucking smoking.
It's like a Tarot Reading..."The Future is in Your Hands...."
It's all overdue, I take it resignedly in stride. This is it then.
After which it's escape from Kelowna, back to Nelson via Vernon & Nakusp. Spots of sun and rain.
Turning left at the junction there's a big clang-bang, and that's it.
The car, done. 2 weeks. I'm setting new records. But - what in the hell could it be? I limp to the side of the road, throw on the Hazards. It's been a gem so far, and it is a Honda - sooooo.
Shifting - there's a rattle, as if somethings' dragging on the ground. I can't get it into 4th or 5th. Otherwise - gingerly put it into 1st, 2nd, then third and rev it to Nelson. Only 20 KM, you can do it...
And it does. Now - this is so far outside my budget - but - if it can keep working in first, second & third then I can get to work, hoard my nickels and maybe in a month or so afford to fix it. But - this is inconvenient in the extreme. Count my blessings it happened this close to home.
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Kelowna, a short drive (distance), long drive (Paulson Summit, snowing, white-out conditions, and finding after having just traversed it that it's been closed due to mudslides, now to plan another way back, which is fine, because I wasn't going to white-knuckle that again even if it were open). The rest of the drive, lots of rocks to be looked at, low creek beds I should be panning for gold, looking for arrowheads. I pass a series of dilapidated shacks surrounded by heaps of garbage bags, I should have stopped to take a picture, the most BC thing, hundreds of full garbage bags piled high about the most ramshackle dwelling ever, I'd never noticed this before, probably because further into Spring it's obscured by foliage,
...finally, Kelowna. I remember as a child, 6 or 7, driving into Kelowna, the full moon rising, oversized, sun setting, above a mountain above the lake - magical.
That Kelowna is long gone. Now, Kelowna is a long strip mall that runs the length of the highway, chain and outlet stores, it has all the fucking charm of a Wal-Mart on Black Friday.
And the traffic. Where in the hell are all these cars coming from, and where are they all going? How are there so many? Why is it so fucking busy?
After this long drive I'm looking for a place to eat, but there's nothing, chain after chain after chain.
Finally - "Pan-Asian Buffet" - or some such, a huge restaurant. And I'd been hankering for Chinese, a fried rice with chili oil, and so this will do.
THE BUFFET OF INFINITE PERIL
Why, why do I punish myself?
It's huge. I mean, it could seat 300, maybe 400 people, easy. And the buffet has everything. I mean, all of it, hundreds of items, all the Chinese food, crab legs, large shrimp, fried fish, chicken, beef, pork, noodles, rice, more noodles and rice and vegetables, spare ribs, ribs, sauces, 3 dozen desserts, sushi,...
I confine myself to the simpler foods, I'm not taking any chances...
How do they do this? All this food - $30? It's impossible. Impossible.
We need to get a pipeline from Kelowna to Nelson, move the food there...
Fill my plate.
...and...yeah.
My heart begins to race. Whatever is in this isn't good for me, I can feel it, a heart attack coming on, and I call it quits after 2 plates. Enough. Flavor wise, well, it's all the same. Shrimp, spare rib, pork, chicken ball, who would know? How could you tell? Not to eat it you couldn't...but, $30...
Disgusting. I had to try. Absolutely disgusting. Nonetheless the place is picking up, it's nearing the dinner hour, I'm pretty sure it will be full...
Tomorrow, at some point after I've left the comfortable amenities of the hotel, there will come a pass where my stomach rebels. IT will come suddenly and with great violence, and I'll be sucking in a fart, pulling over at high speed (hopefully on the highway and not in town), bounding up a mountain side or across a field to hide behind - if I'm lucky - a tree, and discharge this high-velocity mess of grease and flour. And I must make a note, take heed, warning, because it will happen, it always does, and when it does it won't be pleasant...)
**
Finally, the Hotel. A Sandman. A comfy bed, a desk, wifi, a pool and a gym were I inclined to use it, (I'm not, tired from the days drive, full from the trough of despond).
Enjoy the hotel room. A bath. A TV (I never turned on). A bed. A bed. What luxury is this? Wow. Bath, toilet, bed. My god, did I win the lottery? I heard rumor some people live like this every day of their life. Bloody hell.
The bath, relaxing, the bed, delightful, I spread out under the cozy blanket, read my book and fall asleep.
I could live like this every day. I'm sure I could.