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The trip - in the end, long. Flight to Edmonton Via bus to Abbotsford then cab to YVR ...
Then flight, and uneventful arrival in Edmonton, a few days visiting, rental car down slick roads to Nelson, various errands and things to be attended to.
12 hours, uneventful, over the pass because I wanna hit the liquor store in Nelson before they close - and, sliding, sliding outside Salmo I discover I might have a dry night, but - even out the speed, and in the end I get to Nelson 1 minute before close. Whew...
The return, a long drive from Nelson to Red Deer, spend the night at cheap motel, then onward to Edmonton. The next morning, white-out road conditions, the roads don't appear bad - when you can see them - but I pass overturned semi's and pick-ups freshly in the ditch, buried past their bumper, blinkers still on.
Slow, slow, there's no rush, you can't see the ice but there's abundant evidence it's there, and better to arrive a bit late then not at all...
Finally, another night in Edmonton, visit father, brother, and off back to YVR. 2 1/2 hours early for domestic flights, time to be spent past the security checkpoints or waiting in the bar. There's the endless repetition of trivial tasks, the proof of Vaccine to get boarding pass, show boarding pass at security, vaccine passport to get a drink, wait, boarding pass and ID again to board. The plane is late boarding.
Finally, board, de-ice, waiting, waiting, finally, an hour and a half late, flying to Calgary - leaving at approximately 8:00 we arrive at 8:45, taxi, wait for ground crews, everyone is short staffed, the OMICRON, it has the airlines laid low, I want off the plane, want a cigarette before the next flight, am thinking of calling the police to report a hijacking, a jihad, when finally, 9:15, and we're getting off the plane.
My connecting flight leaves for Vancouver at 9:30, all hopes to grab a cigarette are out the window, hurrying to the next gate - resigned that I'm going to miss it but I have to try, do something...
Check departures. My connecting flight is late. roughly an hour and a quarter. Time for a cigarette after all.
Outside for cigarette. Have 2, it's going to be a while before the next one.
Then back in, line up, through security. Strip down, empty pockets, take off watch, belt, one bucket, break up laptop into one bin, bags into 2 others, coats in another.
Through security, explain the fountain pens to the man rooting through my bag, dress, and back in to the gate.
The time has changed again, now 2 hours late.
At 11:00 I hear them doing the final boarding for my flight, only - the gate has changed again, and I'm running another airport mile to the new gate, from gate C55 to A11, and I make it, amongst the last 2 or three to board...
And this flight I win. I've a window seat, these ones, comfortable leatherette, and it's a 3 seat row, ABC, and I'm A and there's no one else in it.
Finally, Vancouver, disembark - outside for a cigarette, time to grab the last 12:50 train back to Waterfront, arrive back at the Hostel around 2:00 AM, half thinking to spend the night out, why pay for an extra night - but, it's not too cold but it's raining, and you know this neighborhood, it's not a great idea, maybe if I had no bags...
All told, 11 hours travelling time for what directly should have been a 1 hour flight, and I've a few observations...
This 2 1/2 early policy for domestic flights, it's BS, with that in place I'd - and everyone else on the plane - would have been far better off - in every sense - taking a bus to Calgary. Cheaper and a lot quicker and a helluva lot less hassle.
And the countless, repetitive security checks - vaccine passports, scanners, metal detectors, billions of man hours, 1000's of lives wasted for every imaginary or theoretical life saved, money better spent in education, in social problems, no number of better ways that this money could be spent, it's increasingly obvious that they're just doing the prep work for a police state.
Another, all the pointless mini's that you have to buy to travel - toothpaste - shampoo - conditioner - lotions - mouthwash - hair product - etc, etc. Each "Mini" charging you a double what a full tube of toothpaste - shampoo - etc - etc - at 20X the volume - might cost.
And thirdly - the pretense of "inflight" service - this up-down the isles with the stewards/stewardesses to dispense cups of water or a tiny pack of peanuts, on a 45 minute, 1 hour flight, it's not service, it's a distraction, an attempt to pass the time, take your mind off the bloody-mindedness of modern travel, the "Hurry Up and Wait", the sheeple-conditioning of waiting in line, waiting for flights, perpetually waiting, in limbo, scrolling through your phone.
***
Every passenger's a hostage
Pack 'em in, Pack 'em in
Charge for luggage, charge for water,
Pack 'em in, Pack 'em in
Frisk them, Check them, Load them on the Plane
Pack 'em like sardines -
Ensure they never fly again -
Every Holiday's been cancelled or substantially delayed -
Hold them every one for ransom
It's not enough they overpaid
And if any should escape - and make it sometime home -
If they ever fly again - well then - they should have known!
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Which could also be entitled "Somebody Stole My Business Plan!!!"
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So, a big part of the return here has been dealing with Stormy's affairs. Banking, arranging payment of the home, visiting - and - after a fashion he seems to be settling in, he introduces me to some new friends he's made, a husband and wife, others, takes me on a tour of the facilities, shows me his "haunts".
After catching up I promise to take him into Nelson Friday to run some errands and see some of his friends.
And when I arrive on Friday he's packed. Ready to go. He's running away, never coming back, he's packed his cherished possessions into a couple of cardboard boxes, he's going to have me drop him at the bank, he'll find a room or place to live...
I hate breaking the bad news, but if I'm signing him out I got to sign him back in.
He's not happy, but that's the deal.
With that understanding we set out.
A long drive for not a lot of visiting, frequent stops for bathroom, cigarettes, lunch at McDonalds (and he's impressed, loves it, can't remember when last he was here), on to Nelson where we go to the bank, grab coffee, do some thrifting - he finds a pair of shoes he's chuffed with, and other trifling errands. We look for some of his friends, few of them are anywhere to be found over the holidays, then he's done. We head back to Trail.
He's a charming host, guest, after his fashion, although he substantially overrated his walking skills (about 20 yards before he's exhausted), and seems reluctant to let me go - rare for him, generally he visits for a bit and is finished. And seeing - that despite he protests he hates Trail, and I understand why, he's nonetheless making friends, I'm not leaving him in the best of hands but - there are worse hands for sure.
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Tuesday, week last, a trip over to the Island to visit the boy.
Nanaimo Via Horseshoe Bay - Over the Lions Gate, into West Van, the houses, pleasant, no external clues as to their astronomical value, neighborhoods that I remember vaguely from childhood, the "rural & suburban" Vancouver, Horseshoe Bay, a stark contrast to the industrial Tsawwassen Ferry, a smaller, tiny terminal, mountains, peaks, inlets and islands, it is the very picture of an ad for "Travel BC".
The ferry ride - long, Nanaimo, well, there's nada in Nanaimo, we check the thrift shops for my bag, no luck, lunch - an overdone burger at a well reviewed pub - my own review would be substantially more damning - the boy, the island life, makes it a little, a lot tougher to "treat" him to a decent meal as I would the daughter, a short, few hour visit - but this change, to the island, the pace of life greatly slowed - it's worth it to escape the East Side, if only for a day...
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I don't know why, file this under another of my mislaid memories. Monday, off thrifting, South Vancouver. I start on the Canada Line, ride down to Cambie and Marine Drive.
Now this haunts me - I can't figure it out, but that phrase - that intersection - has been with me since childhood. And since this is the start of my thrifting tour get out and check it out.
Nada. No memory cues or clues whatsoever.
I don't know why, perhaps - as a child, decades ago, I obsessed over a magic store located nearby. That's the only reason I can think. And here, in Edmonton, I asked my father, he has no recollection either. So - that must be it - if ever I was here it didn't make much of an impression, unremarkable in every respect, but a good jumping off point to begin a fine day of thrifting, during which I found 2 pairs of cufflinks for the boy (one, theatre, silver masks of comedy/tragedy, appropriate, the other a "SWANK" pair of female buddha's - TARA - arm outstretched in a blessing, silver again, huge, vintage 60's or early 70's, maybe an inch across, masterpieces, need only to find him a fitted lotus dress shirt with French cuffs and he'll be set... other finds, books, shirts, countless others left behind - it was a great thrifting day.
And still I wonder what once was at "Cambie & Marine Drive".