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Kelowna
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
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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.
B & S's 5th Anniversary
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
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I've given each of them rides - S**- Never again, his smell lingered for days in the jeep.
It wasn't a good smell. He'd have been - I'd have guessed, early 40's, dirty, clothes never washed, dreadlocks. He professed to be a ladies man. His stink was just the nasty nasal embodiment of his appearance.
And B******, she was the clown with the axe I'd picked up one rainy day back in the years of the Volvo. In the years since she'd grown huge - always fat, now a morbidly-obese disabled sort-of-huge with a moustache and beard. And simple - unable to talk about anything of any import. I'd guess her to be in her 60's.
Anyways, S** and B***** had been seen together for a few years, hanging out, I'd wondered about it a bit, but you only let your imagination go so far and decided it was probably a matter of convenience for whatever social worker they had, perhaps they'd been housed together. It was inconceivable that anyone - even each other - could find either of them attractive or in any way passable. It was unlikely that it was even physically possible.
I was wrong, in the restaurant with friends (case workers?) on Sunday morning B* announces that it's their 5 year anniversary.
And S* - these past few years he's looking dozens of years older, maybe 50 going on 80, and if I thought about it I'd have more than a few questions but I'm not going to think about it, not for another moment...
The Easter Weekend
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
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This Easter Weekend, substantially overstated, one waiter could have handled the whole thing. Instead it's me and JR, splitting the days. Until Sunday.
It's not even remotely busy. Mind you, it doesn't have to be, at our prices you only need a few tables and the ring-outs get huge in a hurry.
1:30 Saturday, a pretty girl walks in and seats herself in the back of the restaurant. Jr approaches her, apparently she ate there a few days before, chats to her, she asks about his wedding ring, he confirms he's married - and she stands up and leaves.
Just like that.
I'm aghast. Someone - someone - fancied JR. I mean, I know he's married with children but I find him the furthest thing from attractive - a younger version of Ken, who - comparatively - has infinitely more charm and suavity.
This is incredible. I mean - 5 years ago, when I started, he was a younger version of Leonardo Di Caprio, but now, now he's Leonardo gone down the road of Orson Welles.
And really - you only need to talk to him for a few minutes - he can be charming, but it's a superficial, guarded charm; you see through it - and she, well, she seemed so normal.
Anyways, had to laugh, there's no accounting for taste...
Sunday, JR, and 2:00 it happens, the endless parade of people wanting nothing to eat but service, we fill, parties of 9 that want to sit down or take out or just mill about admiring the taxidermy, an hour of the good 'ole Cock 'N' Suck. He misses his ferry.
And then, just as quickly, it's back to normal and the restaurant is empty and he makes the next ferry and there's a little rush later in the evening, but nothing I can't handle.
The summer begins.
Nick
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 258
Driving back from work, 9:00 PM, and someone flags me down - middle of the highway, orange safety vest, manically waving a flashlight. I pull over, Was there an accident?!! What's up!!!? Nope.
None of the above, it's Nick, from further up a road I used to live on in Balfour. Nick, brother of ..... son of ...., Nick, who used to work at the ... ... ...., Nick has to get to town, it's an emergency, just drive quick thank you very much. He lets himself in the car as soon as I pull over, no questions, it's a novel presumption this, that I'm somehow sharing his desperation, his mission, sense of urgency; that we can do this together...
The whole family from ..... road are wing-nuts, poorly socialized, inbred, they'd probably be diagnosed "Autistic" but - really, how could you, there's so much going on up there.
Nuts breeds nuts. So just drive and listen to Nick calm himself, he's saved, he's going to get to Nelson, he's 2 backpacks with him, he's got to see an old friend who's in town, up in Fairmount, I can drop him anywhere.
So we chat the rest of the drive, or rather, he largely chats and I listen, I've met almost everyone in the family, all of them nuts, bonkers, I've only not met the mother, probably because by some Hassidic tradition she's not allowed out of the house, (they're members of one of the many cults of "Kootenay Jews", which seem to only require "identifying with", and they're all allowed to get away with it because we don't have enough real Jews to protest. I'm not sure there are any Jews at all out here, because it's not polite to ask, it's a little challenging, and so you have to take everyone at their word.)
And come Nelson get him out of the car and he's all confused again, why would I want him out? But he's got to see his old friend, remember? And he's confused and blinking his light around my jeep to make sure he's not forgotten anything, and I'm wanting him out because there's something about crazy that I'm starting to lose patience with...
Find my parking spot down by the airport, usually quiet but tonight a group of high school students - 4 cars in total, have taken up drag racing on the strip. Now I know why the police are always down here, only they're not down here tonight - one of the kids must have a cop as a father....
In the morning, up, still sore in every limb, the hip-abductor, which has doubtless greatly improved my child-birthing skills has also greatly impeded my ability to walk, and while I should be going to the gym I'm instead sitting around and wondering if this can be postponed yet another day...
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