Rocking the Casbah with skillet! Chicken & Broccoli!

My room-mate's hungry! Working on projects... can't stop. Oh right... it's 7:30 P.M. probably time to eat. She gets out a box of cereal that from a company called Casbah, rocking an East Indian grain. Imported from USA to Delta BC, not too exotic by that point.

Okay, if it's about the The Clash, I'm game! Despite having never cooked couscous, the fact I've only had it in Greek salad a few times. Being a rice-like grain, couscous is the Eastern answer to oatmeal. I wonder if it goes in cookies ^_^ will experiment later.

Since you can have it with figs, almonds, dates, allspice, and cinnamon, that to me is breakfast. We found a recipe online for throwing it in with chicken and broccoli. Don't know if it's traditionally Indian, but the fun word skillet made me un-manly giggle. The fact that it takes FIVE minutes to cook on it's no-brainer to cook-up was a winning combo in a solid stick to your ribs kind of way, even icky four food group, definitely healthy with a glass of milk. Frying chicken included, fifteen minutes later, supper's ready for two hungry people.

Here goes with modification from about.com/homecooking recipe which missed a few details...

Rockin' Casbah Skillet Chicken & Broccoli with Couscous

1 tsp olive oil
2 chicken boobs, pre-cooked
2 cu water (or more...)
1.5 cu broccoli
2/3 cu couscous!
Pinch-me of salt
4 cloves of garlic
1 tsp of lemon juice


Cutting board, big knife, skillet and good to go.

Take chicken and defrost, chop into cubes, dash of olive oil 5 minutes cooked at medium low, no pink!
Throw in first cup of water, minced up garlic, broccoli and cover for 5 minutes.

Dump in Couscous with splash of water -- more as needed as Couscous just sucked up the water so fast.
Cooking the Couscous reminded me so much of oatmeal cooking that it was just awesomely easy.
It boiled happily away and was done in about another 5 minutes.

So there's something new to throw together that is way more healthy than Kraft-dinner for a student meal.

Only it takes a bit more attention than KD because an iron skillet's only flaw is scorching stuff real quick if you don't push stuff around. Even heat displacement and retention out-weigh that with added bonus of near zero clean-up. Scrape stuff off and scrub with water, NO SOAP and dry right away done. Yes I can be lazy when it comes to cooking so it's something to get over and done with right away and not forgotten.

</end rant> I heart my skillet for another quick win in the kitchen.

FYI on the history behind the song, the Casbah is Arabian for citadel and specifically the Algerian fortress and mosque that was the main safe haven of the National Liberation Front when they were freedom fighting aka terrorism against the French as pressure for independence. Considering it is a hugely populated city, 40-70,000 estimated now live there, a good portion of it slums, and probably not much different 50 years ago from 1954-62, one long battle... now a falling apart UN heritage site with once gorgeous 17th century mosques.

As a revolutionary statement, Rock the Casbah written by the Clash in protest of Algerian neighbour's Iran when they outlawed dance music, crazy disco beats.... The Clash probably weren't thrilled as punks when their hit single became the unofficial US military theme song during 1st Gulf War. First song to play as troops were kicking it into Operation Desert Shield, aka invading Iraq long ago it seems now.



So there you have it, just from making supper, I learned something new. Yay... It don't look super colourful, but my brave room-mate and I devoured it quickly enough.

veterans, respect or forget

Was really happy to hear that the Canadian Defense minister in government put out a press statement on Father's Day. He reminded people that soldiers are fathers too and their kids and spouses are at home waiting for them to come home.

It was a happy thing because there's not a lot of noise made about soldiers making sacrifices other than funerals' announcements. So to hear about their kids waiting for them to come back okay was a great idea. So why stop there? I'd love to write more about it. I cannot forget because veterans' stories have kept me captivated with bravery in just doing their job and duty.

Having never missed a Remembrance Day ceremony, even if just on TV when I was too sick a few years, even got a speeding ticket making it to the cenotaph on time. That's how much I care. Why am I going on about this in the middle of the spring and not November? Everyone seems to forget about the common soldier the rest of the year other than Afghanistan casualties and if a veteran dies -- taking his stories with him. So I'm taking the challenge to figure out when is best to be talking to veterans.

Not the best remembering dates and years, but June 6th was D-day and there's so many other historic war deciding and small battles which have been fought before and since then. I'd love to talk to some more veterans since two years ago I went and drank beers with a bunch of wonderful older men at the legion who told me about their glory days and bitter return to normal life where nobody understood them.

Put that idea on the back burner when I was working full-time and caught up in other projects and half regret not knowing how to get in touch with the veterans. I'll dig up those interview notes and my other formal articles in student and community newspapers as well as online posts and poems too.

Having a few friends tell me wow... interviewing them sounds like an awesome project and I'm sad to say I've lost some of those photos in a stupid lack of hard-drive back-up but it's not too late to go find those wonderful veterans again and get the rest of the stories. Never-the-less I'm really wanting to tackle the issue from all angles from before during and after the war. None of the Hollywood nonsense or nationalism, just a platoon looking after each other, camaraderie that rarely is understood by civies like myself.

If you'd like to look up the kind of stuff I'm looking at doing, read a short story called 'The Things They Carried' and the inspirational book written by a journalist and later a movie called 'Black Hawk Down'. Yet I've read very few books and articles outside of November 11 about Canadians so I'd love to take up that gap in the rest of the year.

Will it be difficult? Bloody difficult to convince those old veterans that I even had an inkling of what they went through. Only because both my grandfather and father (reserves) served in the Cold War era Canadian Navy was why they started talking.

Having heard a few wild and chilling stories from my dad I am more determined to see what I can do about getting those stories out of the Legion Hall and into the electronic sphere. There seems to be a few projects out there that I'll try to latch onto and find out from others' experiences.

Check out at Facebook and the Legion that I intend to contact real soon. Thanks for any supports or ideas on what I could do with this project. It's going to be worth it as these stories bear repeating to keep peace on the forefront of how much was sacrificed by young men my age and younger who were brave enough to enlist and defend our nation. Soldiers past and present deserve to have their legacy preserved.

Cheers to them who fought, supported on the home-front and keep on guard for freedom.

-- PLR --

p.s. stay tuned on old stories and new interviews happening soon! like June 6th and any other significant battle.

stay-at-home dad? sure why not

On Father's Day a survey gives thumbs up to a stay-at-home-dad becoming more of a significant fixture in Canadian culture.

Bank of Montreal released a 21st century sign of times that guys choosing to do house-work and mind children are less rare.


As feminism isn't such a big issue anymore, 59 per cent of Canadians think there is gender equality around roles at home and work.


Which is interesting because only a generation ago, even being a single dad was almost unheard of in most parts of western culture. Only a few of my parents friends, almost none at my church and out of many clients of their daycare were single dads.


Not being the main bread-winner is hard on pride, especially when 31 per cent of guys have taken home-maker role after being put out of work during the recession.


"It made a lot of sense for them [fathers] to stay at home and raise the family," BMO spokesperson Larry Moser said.

A stay-at-home dad isn't exactly a topic that comes up after church, being the largest segment of this reporter's social circle.


There are plenty of families where both parents are out working, yet as with most financial planning, there are pros and cons.


If benefits plans of both spouses over-lap enough, it doesn't impact family, nor does kids having a parent at home to have reassurance that someone is always home to talk to about problems or help with school projects etc.


"If the woman is probably going to be promoted very shortly and start receiving a higher and higher salary, it's just common sense that the dad should stay at home and look after the kids from a financial point of view." 


The BMO press release had some good advice regarding finances:


--  Plan, plan, plan - Start the conversation at least two years in advance so that you can adequately plan, prepare and take time to evaluate your decision.


--  How to choose - When trying to decide which partner should stay home, take into account each other's salaries, benefit packages and any             prospective career advancements on the horizon.


--  Weigh the costs - Research local daycare or nanny costs and compare them against your salary.


--  Track everything - As part of your evaluation process, track your             expenses, create detailed budgets and revisit your financial plan to             ensure it is aligned with your new goals.




All good advice which sounds like this reporter's father would give as an independent business-man. Which is something the study doesn't take into account of how many guys have home-based businesses as well to look after their kids better.


So as Father's Day rolls around, we thank the guy who raised us and supported mom. Single dads work so hard to make it up to their kids like single moms do with a bit more of a harder mission from society's view-point that mom should be main child-raiser.


The role of fatherhood may be changing and adapting to what goes on, but manly men might be in charge of the house-hold in a different designation. Raise a beer for dads everywhere anyway.


-- PLR --


am admitting to taking a short-cut by re-quoting the BMO dude, but just thought it was an interesting piece of culture. photo came from same article


original article re-post

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - pt 4of4

 

There were things that went on that were beyond what I can remember about the little moments when my roomates didn't notice that I was there and they dropped their shields while talking to friends. There was a lot of empathy despite my threats and grumpiness from lack of sleep and school induced stress. Not that I'd want to betray that trust though nor take photos like this spiteful person did of their room-mate's mess - I can only say some of mine were messier. I was lucky as I could have had nightmare room-mates like my friends bemoaned.


Room-mates who stole stuff, made way worse messes then my nose would have been able to deal with. Other friends in dorm had murderous thoughts about stereo systems fueling dance parties late into the night. They liked and used my pre-tested solution of playing opera and polka early the next morning in retaliation to their neighbours.


They were lucky compared to the people who thought dorm was a place to test out their wrestling skills. Someone got put through a wall head-first, was okay other than concussion and stitches, but refused to pay the damage deposit fine imposed by dorm. Other people on dorm had angry pizza delivery guys to deal with after prank calls, angry neighbours when they couldn't control their room-mates.

Worse, others had to steer clear of recently ex-boyfriends and ex-girl-friends after bad break-ups or loud make-up sex that didn't heal the wounds. That and creepy people who tried to follow their room-mates home from the bar. Compared to the guys who had bike races and foot-ball games down my hallway, I couldn't complain. Or the huge dorm party which resulted in all the furniture being piled into a fortress in common areas.


Or the fire-drills because someone was 'cooking' hot-dogs stoned and forgot about smoke if they passed out at 3 a.m. or lit candles for a relaxing bath which became less relaxed when candles started to burn through the counter. Not that fire extinguishers were left alone, one was shot off and into the vents and again we were evacuated while maintenance and fire fighters ventilated the dorm.


Other people forgot to ventilate the bathroom hot-box properly and in lighting up the bong and light the smoke alarm as well. This was at least once a month in the -30C. I got very efficient at loading my camera bag and laptop and leaving the building from pajamas to clothes in 30 seconds flat in case it was the real thing finally.

However, the night Halo-boy, a few friends and I re-organized the common-room was my fondest memory of the first year of dorm. For all the assignments, I was allowed to relax once in a while and partake a drink or three. Never again with Royal Reserve and I apologize to my liver for that night.

Appleton, RR and Lucky's beer aplenty, we had a great time. Emo-boy whined so much but we had a great time. Nobody took credit for the first move, but by the time Emo-boy arose in the morning, I thought he was playing more screa-mo for the amount he yelled. We were pretty happy with the new decorating style.

Sitting on a side-ways easy chair, I was calmly watching cartoons and eating kraft dinner mac & cheese, head cocked to the side. Non-flat-screen TV, chairs, table, small appliances, lamps, even posters were all side-ways.


For extreme make-over, Martha Stewart would have been proud. I was a lot less proud thinking about it now, but there's something metaphoric about said about the whole dorm lifestyle -- sometimes it just goes sideways for a curve-ball so keep on trucking.

If this says anything about why I decided rum shouldn't be on my diet in such plentiful amounts, I learned my lesson. Come to think of it, by second year I was a lot more calm about assignments, no less busy, but less in the drinking.


Second year was much more orderly in comparison as I was blessed with a much more sane bunch of dorm room-mates who got along much better. However, that's a different story for a different day. Hope you enjoyed ^_^

postal workers strike -- crown corp. eh

SO... there's a postal strike on and the lack of recyclable junk-mail aka flyers has been nice, but realize this is costing millions in lost revenue and reputation. The courier services aren't complaining as business has been brisk for them. On the other-hand, the postal workers aren't allowed to say much either.


While 'negotiations' are going Deerfoot log-jam un-rush hour traffic slow for almost six months now without a contract agreement, postal workers are wondering what will happen next.


While the government hesitates to jump in and order them back to work even before they go on a full-out strike, I stand confused. A rotating strike is rather decent of workers on a national level to throw a wrench in usually well oiled machinery.


One could argue that they are doing it to avoid bad publicity and angry citizens who pay their salaries at the end of the day. Not understanding real deal-breaker/makers, better benefits and whether employees start at $19/hr or $23/hr. $23 is presently what workers make after a year in service. They probably are wondering if they'll get a raise too accounting for inflation.


Getting a package in the mail a few days ago, the postal worker apologizing for it being a bit late. Told him I totally support striking because someone has to put a foot down.


He shrugged and I understood he couldn't say much. Without naming or saying his opinion is that of everyone at Canada Post, he just wants them to agree on something so he can keep working. Strike pay isn't so great and letters aren't getting delivered so he was so back-logged that his truck was fully loaded.


Go figure when there's talk of strikes, clients losing business, and other dire things happening, there's always the little guy who just clocks in and serves his community. Cutting his pension, co-workers and buying more machinery to run him off his feet would make anyone disgruntled.


Crown Corporations, which have indirectly government funding, are become controversial every time there's a strike. Like a private company runs it any better? This reporter isn't a political 'scientist' or business expert, but if it ain't completely broke, find some ductape and patch it up.


Even though it's a full out strike now, workers are like the pony express, the mail must get through. They are still working three days a week and not affecting rural areas.


If they can deliver 45M letters per year to 14M addresses, about 355 letters to each house-hold. That and they are not running a deficit according to a company history and report a few years old, that's pretty darn decent for buying out Puralator and cutting management back 5 per cent.


The postal report is worth a read if interested in business. Quick facts that the company has been run better since it took a drastic change 30 years ago. There's some sticky monopoly on delivering letters and officially the postal service is overseen by the minister of transportation, but run by a board of directors.


When health-care debates rage about two-tier systems, having private/public competition on delivering stuff to door-steps has been good for the customer. Apples and oranges between health and mail, but sometimes both are in the balance, especially in northern communities.


Love letters, products from online -- which Canada Post has gotten into that business, very forward thinking -- and everything from medical supplies to confidential documents are all varying importance.


In act of good faith, postal workers realized that they also deliver elections documents and pamphlets, all kinds of official mail and pension cheques etc. So maybe the politicians should stop thinking about forcing them back to work and think about helping them out as postal workers help out other Canadians. They get rather well paid for it so maybe the unions should think about how they go about this as well. Glad it's not up this reporter to figure out.


So then... hope this works out quickly. There's still another mess with Air Canada strike but that's a whole other story of a public bail-out which is still limping, but that's for another day. Just make sure the little guy is looked after.


-- PLR --


p.s. cute photo graphic came from here

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - pt 3of4

As you may notice, this isn't the easiest stuff to write about, yet my retired writer friend dearly departed, challenged me to find the humour in these situations, so I'll keep it up in his memory.

Anyhows... Emo-boy wasn't the one who swabbed the decks. Note the plunger attempt.

Finding a friend to stay with, Artsy-wino had enough after first term and his replacement in the dorm was even more crazy fun. Halo-boy was a piece of work, hot-boxing up the bathroom with Emo-boy, playing massive amounts of Halo while he was 'working' on assignments and drinking Lucky beer by the 18 pack.

Having cousins from  Vancouver Island where Lucky is brewed and affectionately called redneck champagne, I'm used to bone-head drinking and yelling, but having to write assignments and edit photos was a bit more than I can handle over the racket of Halo-boy and Emo-boy in a cage match of yelling over who got the TV for playing video games.

If I had a major amount of assignments to finish, the cable connection for the TV to Xbox went missing and then screa-mo would have been a nice sound in comparison. At least it was a truce.

Halo-boy was okay with this as his assignments were almost as many as mine. He still found plenty of time to shoot up Halo online or cook hamburger helper while drinking Royal Reserve Rum. He clean up the kitchen well enough and loved the idea of stacking Emo-boy's dishes.

Then came the night Halo-boy plugged the toilet. The flooding of water awash through the common area was the first hint that all was not right. Neither was him yelling at the toilet. I yelled back that the toilet was on strike from lack of fiber in his diet.

Never met someone who couldn't use a plunger. Halo-boy thought they were for scaling buildings. Suction cups work on a similar principle but as I explained the physics, he was fascinated.


'Physics are so cool! I always just let gravity do its thing if I didn't have a cherry-bomb around.' I'm not making that up and wonder how Halo-boy survived his mother's wrath.


Emo-boy was already flipping out as he heard the word cherry bomb mentioned. His room was next to the bathroom and we both threatened to shove his head in the toilet but it was already full. Halo-boy and I got along well enough.

That was probably the worst we could come up with, yet Emo-boy thought it was hilarious as long as he didn't have to clean it up. An odd combination of swearing, laughing and screa-mo but at least he was smiling, ish. What we put him through next was much worse...

To be continued.... madness pure madness which I hope strikes a chord and someone out there gets some insight to what happens when cabin fever hits room-mates during long Canadian winters.

Happy Accident Involving a Skillet - Quiche

No I didn't smash someone with a skillet to avoid emo music. Everything I make in my skillet is an adventure for my poor room-mates to taste. It looks hap-hazard but looks are deceiving. The fish & chips fire is another story for another day. Cornbread is awesome as well. Originally for campfires and hunting orcs (yes that's a lego character of a famous Hobbit sidekick. 


Taking a break from blogging -- first time in too long that I've spent all day writing. Chilling with fridge door open, I needed  something quick and yummy! Quiche Lorraine -- whoever she is. Being a bit of an accomplished baker, I treat cook-books as guidelines. This time a quick look around the internets provided proof I might have come up with another original.






My standard issue to die for biscuit recipe works for pie/pizza crusts too.


Will re-post that recipe separately, I'll say I learned the hard way why I might invest some time into learning to bake a crust blind to weigh it down, or use less dough, but whatever happened, the crust puffed up real good. Fortunately it settled a bit when it cooked but was still a solid 1/2" thick.

Modified Quiche Recipe from several recipe ideas


1 pound of pastry, pre-baked in skillet
1/2 cup ham or cooked bacon
5 eggs, beaten up like nerds
1 cup heavy cream or sour cream + 1/4 cup milk
1/2 cup grated cheese
whatever spices work to suit your taste. Nutmeg, garlic, Italian seasoning etc


It smelled a-maze-ing! So waiting for the pastry to pre-bake 10 min and then another 25 min with mix in.

Anyhow, puffed up pastry aside, Quiche Lorraine is pretty easy. Had canned ham in fridge so I chopped it up fine to substitute bacon and threw it on the pre-baked risen biscuits in the skillet.


Determined to make Quiche I threw in 5 eggs and lacking heavy cream, I used sour cream with some milk to thin it out. As it was sour I added some sugar -- a bit too much because it was a tad, um sweet.


It's taking a while to cook.... almost done and looks awesome. So apparently you can modify a Quiche with bannock and somewhere in the middle you have a Phil-original.



The crust was pretty solid but had a bit of fluffiness to it as I'm finding it to toast crust outside just right totally different from glass or tin plates.


My room-mate and I were either too hungry or like Quiche Loraine too much to care and it worked out pretty yummy.


Stay tuned for more cooking fun.
-- PLR --


p.s. I bravely eat most every experiment so I'm careful to take sound cooking logic and chemistry, but live boldly in the kitchen, there's no telling what amazing thing you might come up with!

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - pt 2 of 4

So continues the madness.

Now artsy-wino was a good kid in comparison but far from perfect. Not the best nickname, but I haven't seen a lot of classy drunks in college like that. I was sad to see him go when he moved out after first term because he kept Emo-boy quiet-er. Well almost sad.

He drove me nuts watching American Idol, MTV Cribs and Languna Beach, three shows I thought I'd never hear the end of the way he idolized the Cali-life-style. His artsy political rants and self-pity that his work wasn't good enough yet didn't help either.

I asked how anyone could not be shot for being so tone-deaf and ruining classic songs and Artsy-wino said to back off because they worked hard to get there. It'd be easier if they hadn't started singing....

How could teens live off their parents like credit-cards would burn a hole in the pocket? Who could be so shallow down in Long Beach when their neighbours were dying of over-doses or working triple-shifts to support their families? Artsy-wino said the perfectly tanned teens weren't perfect either, they had relationship problems and troubles in school with drugs and alcohol.

'You don't know what it's like to have those kind of troubles or have a tortured artist's soul.' He was a pretty talented artist too so I didn't get it.

He was half-right but I was a peer-drug counselor after high-school so I told him a few stories to shut him up about teens worse off. Plus I've lots of artists who don't have thumb-screws embedded but he was still finding his artist style which is brutally hard to be original.

Yet talking about crack-users' relationships caused him to blow up like a screa-mo 'singer'. This was normal - he yelled at his artwork, politicians on TV, and Emo-boy - but this was worse. He had gotten straight after been into the XTC and speed at the clubs, but the crack was the worst he had ever seen go down. He was 20 years old barely and dealing with that already for years? Had a bit more sympathy for him but other than artistic passions which we debated over wine and cheese, we didn't have much in common.

Not much in common with artsy-wino, other than his sweet little girlfriend who used to wander in. If he wasn't home, I'd make her a cup of tea and she'd complain about Artsy-wino, her mother, and everything else that sucks when you're 20 years old. She was about the same age as my sister so it was pretty easy to listen and offer advice or a hug.

Arsty-wino was surprisingly okay with this as he was really possessive about her otherwise, but didn't have time to listen all the time when his brutally mark-heavy portfolio was due and she understood this. People who put up with artists are incredible for many reasons, especially when said artist breaks down. So it was hard on her at times when he was being mopey. 

Don't think he could keep ranting or moping with her around. When his patient gal was pretty cute about jumping on Artsy-wino's bed if he took too long to finish his work or dance a sock-hop up with us. As couples go, she was ying for his yang and they were pretty balanced fun. We had fun mocking American Idol wanna-bes and talking about philosophical and political subjects. 

Which is more than I talked about with my third roomate, Silence as I never saw him. I think since he might well have been closet gay, he never chose to hang out around where my other two roomates yelled homo at each other and all other kinds of gay insults. It was messy, but I felt bad for the kid to have to put up with so much screaming.

He'd come out swearing and throw stuff if he got mad enough once or twice, but not often. I'd let him just rip into my shocked other two roomates because it was good for some stress to defuse. He stormed out a lot with friends who looked after him better.

Playing my happy ska and reggae full-blast lessened the stress and defused the hate, but I never got to really know the kid, stop my roomates from yelling homo, so it was a bad scene. Most of the time we forgot Silence was there and would pound on the door once a week to make sure he wasn't dead we saw him so rarely.

With so much stress, I started to think God had sent me to look after them. All I had to do was keep the peace, keep place tidy enough and tempers wouldn't flare for too long. I thought after Christmas it would get a bit easier with a new roomate moving in. Was I wrong?

To be continued....


p.s. How did I survive? Laundry night helped... when my room-mates were getting too loud as the weekend started, I'd go down with a few loads of dirty clothes and straighten out my articles and notes. Even studied in the laundry room and met cool people there too.

Camping with Grizzlies

It's almost summer time and my friend was asking me about how to escape grizzly bears while camping. He asked if he could outrun one and I replied that deer can't out-run a hungry bear. Grizzly bears can almost keep up with a speeding car.


He looked petrified and I reassured him it's so uncommon to actually have a ticked off bear to deal with. If he follows some simple common sense precautions, he won't have to resort to evasions my buddies have escaped with their lives. Don't take just my word for it, as I'm no scout-leader. Read up on the Parks Canada website and talk to awesome park rangers who know their stuff better than I. That said, there's some easy ways to keep these gentle giants non-growling as they are shy by nature.




1) Don't feed wild-life


Applies to all large predators for obvious reasons. Don't leave your food, even your beer (a bear broke into a cabin in Banff and drank the Molson but left the imports) anywhere near where you sleep. Even dumping out your dishwater by your campsite is a good way to get 500lb teddy bears sniffing around your tent.


Air-tight coolers are one way to go and so does leaving your food in the trunk of your car. A better way is to put it up a tree. Yes there's a chance the bear might knock the tree down, so use a sturdier tree. Rigging it up with a simple rope toss with a weight on it will do.

2) Don't have a surprise party


Another thing to avoid these furry fellows is to make a lot of noise. Bear bells are so cheap and good to put on back-packs, bike handle bars and walking staffs. Singing, laughter and good loud conversation are a bonus.


The less likely a bear is to be startled the better. Even hanging bear bell on the tent is a good thing in case the bear brushes up against your tent.




3) Climb like Tarzan


Bears weigh more than you do and if you have the option between running or not, make like a five year old and scale a tree like Tarzan. Honestly this works better than you think. Bears stop climbing trees after they grow up from cub sized. He will be miffed but if you stay real quiet, he will lose interest after a little while.


Hold on because a bear will try to shake you out like a ripe apple, but you'll be better off twenty feet up. And a common sense FYI is climbing faster if you lose extra weight. So drop your backpack and hope there's nothing good smelling in it.




4) Drop the blue cheese


Ignoring the first tip, if you are being chased, keep your wits and if handy throw food at the bear. This also sounds ridiculous but works because he's more interested in food that doesn't fight back or run away. You shouldn't have had that strong smelling beef jerky or whatever in your hand anyway. It might just buy you a bit of time to climb the tree in case you're out of practice.




5) Leave dogs at home


My friend found out the hard way because his stupid dog was running up the trail into the bushes. He ran out in a hurry and through my buddy's legs followed by a much larger furry black cannon-ball.


Hikers was very quick to follow the dog who found an angry startled black bear. Up the tree they went and the dog stayed home next hike. 




6) If you gotta fight, be mighty scary looking


The law of the jungle states that king of the hill wins. It sounds silly if you actually come face to face with a grizzly bear, don't cower or run. Even waving your backpack or tent around, flapping your jacket and yelling like a madman.


You have 50/50 odds that you'll scare him off by being crazy enough not to want to fight. Remember he will probably look for easy prey that doesn't cheap shots. 


So grab a big stick and try to nail a bear on the muzzle. You will have stories to tell your grand-kids because you'll likely survive to tell the tale. Throw big rocks and aim for the face or the other end like one of my friends found out.




7) Luck out


My friend was out with his scout group when he was a kid, they ran into a bear. Scout leader's worst nightmare, but he stayed calm. Told the boys to freeze and slowly reach down for a rock and take aim. On the count of three, over eager and freaked out scouts pelted the bear who turned tail. They earned a badge of courage and perhaps soiled underwear.


The unlucky bear earned a particularly lucky rock in the bum. Worse, whimpering violated bear ran off and my buddy swears the rock popped out again. You might just luck out better than the bear does.




8) Dumb-luck


Another one of my buddies had to deck a tourist to get him from trying to get a free bear ride. He was working the summer as a wilderness guide. He couldn't make this up, but some father wanted to get his toddler to ride the grizzly bear.


There was a language barrier going on and my buddy couldn't get it into the guy's head about the danger involved because this wasn't Disneyland that sure wasn't a tame grizzly.


He stopped trying to pull him back from rushing the bear and swung a right hook. The guy paid attention after that and didn't lose his toddler as a free lunch.


Speaking of off-spring, never get between a mama bear and her cub. That won't end well so beat a hasty retreat out of line of sight.




So in summary of all seriousness


Respect nature and fuzzy cute animals that can break a deer's neck with one swing, razor sharp claws a few inches long and run like an angry Juggernaut as fast as your car can pedal to metal. My friends don't make this stuff up and nor do park rangers who are amazed when they find people who had their car ripped up for trying to feed the bear and figured a rolled up window would stop them.







Enjoy outdoor beauty but beware of the beast


My cat is harmless to spiders but when in the wild, a cougar will not nuzzle me. Same rules apply to any cornered creature you run into close encounters. Don't let it keep you out of the woods when the teddy bears have their picnic. Yet have a healthy amount of caution of them feeding in late summer for winter.


Although park rangers do tag and track bears in provincial parks and around campsites and update a report. They catch and releasing bears somewhere else if they get too close to where humans frequent, but still be careful. Like my brief stay as a boy scout, being prepared takes half of the danger out of the situation and have fun. Take some clean extra boxers anyway.


-- PLR --


p.s. I came as close as I ever hope to be to a bear at Calgary Zoo for the fun shot grabbing a small trout. The bear print is from http://www.trophydrifters.com/

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - 1of4

Without much in the way of defense of male testosterone when the cruel experiment of throwing four random strangers into a single dorm suite without any warning.

Having moved to a completely new city and life to attend Journalism school. May have become socially tipsy, but I met lots of interesting people all over the dorm.

Homesick, worried about a huge amount of work, even just heart-broken from a summer romance, it was a great mix with Appleton Rum and cheap Albertan Big Rock Beer. Made up for it by drinking a lot of water and exercising when I could.

Wrote articles sobering up like Hunter S Thompson and interviewed amazing people, some of them still sobering up around dorm. It was good fun but I can't say that my own company at home was perfect.


An old sports-writer who lived in my neighbour-hood in Victoria roared with laughter when I related these tales, so I write after his encouragement and to honour his sense of humour as he's now writing in Heaven.

To avoid them grief and slander, I'll call them by their nicknames, Emo-boy, Artsy-wino and Silence. It was an odd match-up to say the least. Halo-boy came in for re-enforcement part way through the year, but it was a strange discord to be sure.

'What's wrong with you? Why is this place so messed up? I'm going to my room....' And tortured cats yeowling of guitars, dying singers and heavy bass would emit from the room at all times of day and night. Emo-boy had three CDs it seemed, all of them screa-mo. Which is exactly what they sounded like, screaming and emo crying.

Guess when he'd play them? To wake up to first thing in the morning or to drown out our request to turn it down. Artsy-wino threw one CD out the window eventually and would have repeated the process if Emo-boy hadn't started up exactly like his CD sounded.

You might think I'm being harsh, although he might have been a nice kid, he left home and didn't know how to cook, clean, look after himself because he was too busy moping around. Maybe because I had a reserve navy officer for a father, but chores and swabbing the deck were expected, non-negotiable.

Having dishes pile up and mold, floors go un-vacuumed or washed in the common room, and really, I didn't know how he managed to sleep in his room, let alone breathe from locker room smell. He'd stumble hungover into his pots and dishes when I got tired of it and piled them two feet high in front his door every once in a while.

Consequentially an amazing squeal of whining at 6AM over-powered the screa-mo music blaring. He'd pound on my locked bedroom door, still whining. Without rolling out of bed, I'd issue standard threat that I had the phone number of Emo-boy's mother and would call about the mess. Knowing I met her when he moved in, he didn't want find out if I was bluffing so sulked back to his room.

Artsy-wino was similarly tired by half-way through the term and made me breakfast in thanks because he was so sick of Emo-boy as well. I wouldn't have been so harsh if he did anything besides play video games and whine about classes. I wish I was 18 years old again.

To be continued.... stick around for this four part series of weird-ness and fun coping with madness.


-- PLR --


p.s.


To put it nicely, it wasn't perfect, but I was too tired to care after working long on articles and delicate issues, so here's some of the back-story of why dorm-life was so strange some days. Emo-kid graduated and was doing well last I randomly met up with him.

make stuff last like my grandparents did

Everything's so new, everything's so automatic. Nothing's meant to last, so why would you want to have it?

Any computer or cellphone salesman will admit their products are made to last only barely a few years, yet we pay so much for them. Don't worry there will be something newer and cooler out sooner. It boggles the mind that we consume so much.

So I've gone through a dozen cellphones (half destroyed by moisture, half by dropping) and on to my third laptop. Built or rebuilt four desktop computers over the past decade and I had fun doing it. The laptop I had to give back after I was done journalism school sadly. The next one was an indestructible old Dell that I got off a friend for free if I replaced the heat-sink fan. No problem, only cost me $30 and lasted me a good six months before other problems and frustrations took it out. Will see how long the HP mini netbook lasts with fewer parts to go wrong.

Nobody's perfect at low product consumption, but why won't things last any more? How old is my car? Almost 10 years old, runs smoothly and on its third owner. My road bike? I figure it's almost as old as I am and I only had to replace the tires, brakes, cables and oil the chain. Found it in a bush and it was the right height. Same goes for my last bike which I sadly left behind in Victoria which I rode for seven years without owning a car.

Without a car I learned to make things last, fixing old stuff in a second-hand bike shop where the owner, Hans, was this old genius of salvaging old frames, parts and economic replacements. He probably kept half of Victorians riding as everyone knew his skills to restore a bike. Kids would come with their parents who knew a bike would just get out-grown so why pay $100s when Hans could find a bike for them $50.

A business-man and community leader, Hans is proof of Mr. Ford's dream of mass-produced engines, nuts and bolts lowering the cost of transportation --Mr. Shimano's bike gears inter-changeability extended it. Simply put, computer parts and most electronics are swappable, with only the outside wrappings and customer service differences. Unfortunately it's cheaper to get a new one than pay for tech time to the problems. It could be that most people are scared or too busy to look under the hood and poke around to fix things themselves. Things are a lot more complicated too so not their fault entirely.

My grandparents grew up fixing things in a time before this over-consumption paced world. Growing up around the wars, it was only trash after it couldn't be used a couple times over. Tin and iron last a lot longer than plastics and can be reworked and reused. There was no BestBuy or Canadian Tire to just grab a new part, the general store might have it in next summer after the snow was finished.

Linen,wool and canvas wear like iron and patch-work quilts and darned socks aren't a stylish thing to keep old ladies busy, it was a fact of life. I don't know many people my age who can sew to fix clothes, just by a new piece at Old Navy. I'm guilty of it too but try to make my clothes last or gasp go to consignment stores even.

Economy may be fueled by n consumerism, but every time I go to the museum, I'm blown away. Take for instance, a portrait photographer made his own gear out of an old film projector lens, a scrapped shutter and built his own bellows and darkroom eighty years ago. I've built a pin-hole camera in elementary school and a few darkrooms up from very little, but nothing that fancy or with such good results. I won't mention how many cameras I've gone through, but it's more than the cellphones and my non-digital ones outlast their 'replacement' non-film ones. My mom's Pentax point and shoot lasted 25 years and I though I can use my 25 year old lenses on it, I can't say the same for my three year old dSLR Pentax.

Without soap-box ranting, surrounded by advertisements of what and holiday excuse to buy buy buy, I wondering how long cheap stuff will last. Yes duct-tape will extend the life of a car, but hopefully we don't need to test it. Maybe this whole earth-day thinking where people are so hip with being able to reuse recycle and reduce won't go out of style. Carbon footprint is a rant-worthy subject in Alberta but that's okay. Hope we can learn from our grandparents' ingenuity anyways.

red light challenges

Ever heard of the working poor? Sure thing that this guy isn't choosing to sleep, slumped over in the bus-stop after work.

A wild guess; he is employed yet doesn't have much in ways of options for sleeping arrangements -- maybe he catches a rest before working another job... maybe that's as good as shelter gets for that evening. Some people live in motels until they get thrown out for any number of reasons; others couch surf in an un-fun way; others give up their pride and get to a shelter. Maybe if people cared to ask why he's there, but they don't.

Now we can only care about how strong the caffeine fix is in the morning in order to slog the 9am-5pm and wonder how ever pay off student loans and mortgages.

However, the people living on society's fringes, they can't even dream of having a student loan or house with a mortgage. There's many people who are too proud, too stubborn, too desperate to expect anyone would help. So we're stuck with guilt when we notice them and don't really think they will ever to get ahead. Sometimes with a lack of education past Jr High probably doesn't help and lack of permanent address doesn't particularly induce proper study conditions when temporary de-housed. A nice politically correct phrase for homeless -- sounds more like de-loused.

When a few blogs exist where bloggers complain about fashion week being so lame or getting 2% milk instead of soy in their chai latte, suck it up.

They shouldn't complain if they don't have to know how to get rid of bed-bugs and lice from lack of places to get hygiene.

Itchy sheets are one thing, but the subject of lack of, or mis-diagnosis of mental health issues, in simple terms -- the wrong drugs won't do anything for the real problem -- educated guess. Create worse side affects fairly quickly for either numbing down the wrong part of the brain or system in the body. Worse kill confidence in someone to think they could never actively participate in larger society again.

So for the people who complain that star bucks was better before they got all trendy or whatever fashionable hang-out where cool people exist. I don't know, I've rarly even been nor will probably know where to find a bubble tea house, tapas bar (provincial Spanish buffet is in now) or chillax lounge or whatever the rage is now... at least people with wrongly diagnosised star bucks drink can function in society.

Guess what? Suck it up if there's no reservations for the tapas bar and go to Denny's.

My only complaint to the barista at star bucks was why people are more worried drunks are driving when I am more groggy at the wheel, Drunks try to stay away from driving. Don't worry, I was driving with the window open with a blast of cold air to wake up. I know... I should suck it up.

Which is pretty much all working poor people get when they sleep in their car with all their worldly possessions stuffed in the trunk. They suck it up.

Why tackle issues? With lack-there-of social housing, assistance unless someone is completely up the creek paddle-less -- with an incapacitating accidental dismemberment, mental health issue or incurable disease. there's everyone else who could use a hand-up instead of just a hand-out. Many could rant on and on about how there needs to be more programs from the government: Ways to catch those who fall through the school system's cracks and end up on crack to self-medicate.

Does coffee count as self-medicating to stay awake at work from over-working? I won't touch that one right now. I'll suck it up until i've had enough at 5pm.

The media won't touch it either because it's not a kid with cancer who may be cured if there's enough fundraising done. Proper society always will say NIMBY! There's so many safety and security concerns from those with children for valid reasons of attracting the wrong crowd of supports from pimps to drug pushers. people sketching out while in the process of rehab and cold turkey or binging as they break down and give in.

I guess for blonde barbies in a Chevy Malibu or Madza Miata, adjusting their make-up in the rear-view mirror while texting about how much it sucks to be stuck at a red-light, suck it up

 It's not like they worry about when they'll next get a shower. Going to a homeless shelter has a slight chance of having all earthly possessions of a back-pack stolen or rooted through while just trying to get five minutes to shower down. Too many red-light barriers for keeping a job, not any time to do make-up either.

Not when working poor. They suck it up. Don't pity them, just keep encouraging them or at least the people who want to work with them to get them to a better place. We can only suck so much up before we need to breathe and try to find some relief. Hope it happens soon.

-- PLR --

p.s. hope this flows okay as I'm trying a writing style with this idea to put everything in perspective of this editorial. And I have nothing against barbies in malibu chevys, I admit it's a cheap shot to prove a point.

p.s.s. so update from my nursing student girlfriend, sometimes people go off meds because nobody in the community encourages them to continue taking meds, sometimes they feel better so they figure they don't need meds anymore and think they aren't 'sick' anymore, why bother taking medication if someone doesn't cold medication even if the bacterial infection isn't completely killed off, same thing goes for anti-psychotics.

Does alcohol work? Does the disease go away? Apparently there an entire unit for concurrent (dual diagnosis) in the mental health hospital, because people have the worst deal, alcoholic guy with schizophrenia got turned away from AA meeting because he was hearing voices and sitting in the corner telling the voices to stop. Just a FYI of future articles on people.

300 hits!

Hello World...

Hit a mile-stone I guess in the fact that not quite 6 months after I've been really getting into my blogging in a serious way. 28 hits in March, 55 visits in April, 100 last month! Since blogger tracks incoming country codes, it's been kinda exciting to see.

Canada 226
U.S.A. 51
Germany 6
Singapore 5
Denmark 3
U.K. 2
Russia 2
Australia 1
Brazil 1
France 1

No idea what these people thought of my writing but I hope they leave some comments. What do I need to do to make this more awesome and engage some more debates?

After thinking on just a completely local level, I was surprised that people were finding it half-way around the world and think that's rad. So I'll try to put it together into something hybrid. Will keep rocking and hope that I can contain all the awesome ideas that rolling around in my head soon to be discovered.

-- PLR --