keefer

In case a sort of vacuous boredom takes hold while I'm away, here's some lengthy but worthwhile reading to keep you busy--

The New Yorker on Obama's politicking in Chicago -- forget the whole kerfuffle over the cover of the latest issue, the fact that his campaign, who knows full well it is a parody, made a stink, just proves the point of the article.
It's 15 pages long but pretty essential reading if you're interested in who this fellow is and how he got to where he is.

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The Wisdom of Whores -- here's some no nonsense stuff.

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"New discoveries, however, suggest modern behaviour has African origins as well."

And once you've made it through those, you deserve a light-hearted reprieve in the form of Cpt. Obvious' 'textual amusement' set on flickr. In particular, if you start here and just scroll to to the right within the set, you'll find some hilarious outdatedness from the American Museum of Natural History.

I call it "oozing" up the mountain...

 At 74, Dr. Fred Bass is far from retired. At least physically. I met him yesterday on the Grouse Grind trail.
"I have a method to this," he said just before the halfway mark as he lumbered up the steep and crowded trail. "I call it oozing up the mountain. Slow down to adjust and never lose your breath."
With a good sized backpack on and a blue bandana, Bass was making slow steady progress. I continued on, trying to employ his method. It seemed to steady my progress which, to that point, had been a lot of spurts and stops.
After a short time at the top of the trail, Bass arrived and we sat down for hot chocolate and a conversation that touched on everything from politics to corn removal to progressive provinces of India.
"I've about made up my mind that I'm not going to run in this year's election," the two-term COPE city councillor said. "It's unfortunate how COPE split with the Vision [Vancouver] thing and then seems to be split again."
Bass, who came to B.C. in the 1970s from his teaching job at the University of Philadelphia, was for years a familiar face on television. As founder of the B.C. Doctors Stop Smoking Program he was seen on television advertisements. He has been front and centre in the area of preventive health care in this province over the past several decades.
In 1999 he made the jump to elected political office. In that year, the Green Party, under which he'd unsuccessfully sought a council seat in 1996, agreed with the Coalition of Progressive Electors (COPE) to run a united slate of councillors. Bass and Tim Louis were both elected to city council. Bass would top the polls during COPE's council victory in 2002.
Between useful tips on posture, charley horses and feet placement during uphill travel, Bass mentioned that he had cycled from his Kitsilano home to the base of Grouse before taking to the trail. And I thought my day had been long, starting on foot from Lonsdale Quay.
"I hadn't done this in about two years," he casually said.
The conversation then turned, as it would, to the abundance of natural beauty in this province.
"Yet we are among the most ecologically illiterate," he said, going on to mention that in the late 1980s he brought up the issue of forestry practices in the province to a group of medical colleagues. They didn't consider the issue to be one of human health.
"And I don't think we've come very far since then."
I could have asked about carbon tax or the chances of the B.C. Liberals falling anytime soon. But the hot chocolate was done and we were going our separate ways. Bass on his bike back to Kits and I was booting it back to the Quay.

A better kind of high

Up Needle Peak with my Dad yesterday (again that's Needle Peak, Dad, not "Needle Point").
Only "damage done" were sore feet and legs and a cracked LCD on his camera. A few sections of full-on scrambling.
Best hiking access to alpine, hardly any mosquitoes and absolutely no one else on the trail (unusual for this spot). It doesn't get much better, really.

From top left: Dad and Cascade Range; The objective; Feathered alpine family; Marmot!; First scrambling section; Dad scrambling; Me sizing up the summit block; View west from summit; Clearing the route free of rocks.

Another walk through Bridgeview/Brownsville, an area of much interest to me over the past few years and subject of a chapter in my manuscript. Today it was the tail-end of a 12km blitz through Surrey.
There have been a few successful photo-documentaries of the area. And for good reason of course; dilapidation, open spaces (scarce for Greater Vancouver-- few buildings are even two stories high, here), detritus and decaying metal.  A virtual photographer magnet.
All of this framed by the bridges which must appear periodically in photos in order to define the space for what and where it is. But of those who have ventured into the area, few have captured it as well as Andrew (aXo0101 on flickr) with his set.

Waiting for the ferry home, but I don't know quite where that is anymore.

We jammed for a good few hours.
As usual, the melodies devolved into freestyle jazz and then into some sort of extreme underground house music.
And, of course, the percentage of the latter increased with the more beer consumed.

You may hear it on CBC at 3:00am on a weeknight sometime, or some campus station.

Here's one of the more melodious outcomes. (runs 3:30)

Download jk2web.mp3
(suggested volume: low -- some clipping occurred as the input was too high).

On Vancouver's mayoral race

So the stage is set for the November civic election. The frontrunners are Gregor Robertson of Vision Vancouver and Peter Ladner of the Invinci... err NPA.
Robertson handily beat out two-term Councillor Raymond Louie and former NPA Park Board stalwart/Real Estate guy Al De Genova.
Ladner's path to the nomination was, of course, more interesting-- as he squeaked by Sam the sitting mayor. An unceremonious end to Sam's 15 year political winning streak-- turfed by his own party's grassroots. It doesn't bode well for sitting NPA councillors, some of whom were visibly upset after his dumping. They will of course, line up smiling behind Ladner, as they must, but it could be too little too late.

Meanwhile Robertson's first week as a mayoral candidate saw him resign his seat in the provincial legislature for Vancouver-Fairview. The riding, which straddles the 'Vancouver Divide' encompasses part of Shaughnessy as well as a swath of the Main Street neighbourhood in Mount Pleasant. Although by-elections are not normally friendly to governments in B.C., this is one which could turn from NDP to Liberal. Much will depend on the candidates and turnout of course, which is historically low for these things. Low turnout can be a good thing for opposition since the angry are more motivated to bother.

But while Robertson obviously has the Vision machine onside, his tent may end up being too big for some. At the moment, he is the darling of a lot of Green politicos, labour politicos, small business types and even some in the Downtown Eastside activist community. But the cold reality is, if he takes the mayoralty, he will be wrapping himself around the 2010 Olympic flag with a big smile on his face. Just how that inevitable scene plays with some of the less Olympic-enthused among us remains to be seen. In fact, so far there may be some denial about that eventuality. I suppose, in the eyes of some, this is counterbalanced by his promises to eliminate homelessness in 10 years and tax empty condos.
Ladner, for his part, has to work on unifying his party (I have and will always call the NPA a political 'party'), in the wake of the Sam meltdown. If he is able to do that, and get enough of that seemingly ever-mobilized west side vote-- a normal NPA stronghold-- this could be a close race.

Otherwise it could be a full out Vision rout and maybe a hangover in their big tent, following. But that hangover is probably more palatable than three more years of the NPA's party.

"The health-care system is essentially defunct, and, with a quarter of the population infected with AIDS, the funeral business is among the country’s last remaining growth industries. When President Robert Mugabe said of Zimbabwe last year, “This is my territory and that which is mine I cling [to] unto death,” his subjects might well have wondered whether he was speaking of their death: the life expectancy of Zimbabweans has fallen by some fifteen years during his tenure, and now hovers around forty."

A New Yorker article from 2002 on the terror going on in Zimbabwe. It's nine pages long but well worth the read in order to grasp the context and some of the history of the situation there.
Mugabe, of course, remains in power. His ruling party's web site is here and its front page is nothing but expected vitriol. So too within the media he controls. Here is one of their television election ads.

Screen capture above shows the cost of advertising online in "Zimpapers", a banner ad will cost 200,000 Zimbabwean dollars, or about three dollars, US. And that was as of 2006.
The inflation since that time means that the same three American dollars are now the equivalent of over $32 million dollars in Zimbabwe.
Farmers in the country are being enticed by $60 billion bonuses for every tonne of grain  delivered to the country's grain marketing board. That's on top of the $22 billion bonus for every tonne of maize.

i found the notes between us
it's been four years now
and another leap year has come around
and i swear that extra day makes all the difference
this one has been brutal
unlike the last one

how are you
have to ask because it's summer now
i remember, about a month after i last saw you
my phone rang and i thought it was your number
but i wasn't sure
and i didn't answer
because i don't like answering telephones
although we were both answering for a living
in the same place
and that's how i met you
but i'll never answer a telephone for a living again
and i have less than a quarter to my name now

but how are you
i am pretty sure you're married
are you still running the marathon
i'm moving back to the city
but it's nothing glamorous
i prefer the noise there
but i still want to go up the coast
which means ..
i still haven't made it there

i remember the zucchini loaf you made
and you put a slice of it in my locker
and i remember making spaghetti for us that night
i had spilled a bottle of wine nearby
and there were fruit flies everywhere
you tried to catch them while i chopped the green pepper

we wrote a song together,
during that brief fling
i still remember almost everything
but the moisture in the fog
is bringing on rust;
a ghostly phone booth
in some abandoned cannery town

you made the right choice
i haven't done anything
but i'm still existing
and i guess it could be worse-
could be talking to angry people on the telephone
but i just wanted to ask
how are you?

Vantopia Flashbacks (abbreviated)- June 28, 1958

I read the news (from 50 years ago) today, oh boy..

There's something about holding a newspaper in your hands as opposed to seeing text on a screen. Especially when that paper is exactly 50 years old.

It was last October during the packing out of my Gran's house that I found a few sections of a Vancouver Sun newspaper, slightly yellow but perfectly preserved with hardly a crease, in the bottom of a large trunk full of linen. The date on the Sunday Sun was Saturday June 28, 1958. It has sat in a dresser drawer since then along with an assortment of old 'Vancouveriana', Georgia Straight back issues, etc. I was reminded of its existence by virtue of sorting through these drawers prior to moving. The timing, it so happened, was perfect.

The 14 cent newspaper ($2.00 per month) ran with a lead story about how a strike by the province's woodworkers-- an "economy-crippling" proposition-- now appeared unlikely. Forty-five of the 121 IWA locals had voted against it.

Meanwhile, the strike which would soon lead to major changes in the operation of coastal ferry service in BC was well underway. Both Black Ball ferries (which then operated passenger ferry service to Nanaimo) and the CPR steamship service which operated to Victoria were shut down by striking workers. The CPR had been in the throes of a strike since May. The provincial government had already stepped in, to ensure continued operation of service to the island. Creation of the government operated BC Ferry Authority would follow within the next year.

Mountaineering was on the front page too! Well known local climber Fips Broda and trail blazer Paul Binkert were just two of the four who had summited B.C.'s highest peak, Mount Fairweather a few days earlier. On it they planted the B.C. Centennial flag and became the first Canadian party to reach the 15,325 foot summit.
The report didn't mention that the trip was funded by the B.C. government as part of the centennial. A CBC camera crew also accompanied the men. A few days later four more made the summit.

Back in the city, a 32 year-old victim of an indecent assault in Stanley Park told police from her hospital bed that she "only wanted to forget about it."
"Any trouble I get into is my own fault," she went on to say. "I drink too much."
She had been found semi-conscious and in a state of undress near the yacht club.

Prime Minister John Diefenbaker lamented the lack of women in politics-- a refrain still heard today frequently. But it should be noted that progress has been made in the past half century when there were but five female Members of Parliament, five Senators, and a measly two female Members of British Columbia's Legislative Assembly.

Page two featured an advertisement for a new 8mm camera promising "Brilliant Movies!". The Eumig-C3 was available from Camera Supply (now still operating as "Leo's Camera Supply") on Granville from just $12.95 down. The full cost of $129.50 was, I'm sure a fair cost for a camera which guaranteed "Perfect exposure by amazing built-in coupled photo-electric cells."

The Sun's newspaper op-ed touched on the issue of Vancouver's "housing problem" which goes again to prove that some issues are timeless.
"The immediate problem in Vancouver is to provide more accommodation. Incidental to it, is the problem of helping the employment situation."
In a sign of the times the editorial concluded that more suburban development was the only solution and that "the building of an expressway can be made to reduce the accommodation problem of a great city to simple proportions."
It's unclear whether the editorial referred to the forthcoming Trans-Canada Highway 1, which had not been built yet, or to potential freeways which ran right in to downtown from the east.

Two full pages of the first section was dedicated to the "News of Churches" with a hodgepodge of farewells to departing pastors, advertisements for services complete with a church directory.

Copper River

As played by the Serpentine.

And: the online mountaineering/photo community has lost a good one.
Rest In Peace Storm Light/SteveOz/Mr. Skog.
Thank you for conscientiously recommending my meagre offering of bivouac photos and above all taking some of the most beautiful shots of BC mountains imaginable, here.

Vantopia goes to the movies

Gravel roads and a shanty of floating houses and gangplanks; a group of young children playing hop-scotch in the south alley of the 100 block East Hastings Street; chickens darting in and out of Pender Street buildings; a man openly chips away at wood using what looks to be a big cleaver on Main Street.

These were a few of the most memorable scenes from three films shown last night at the VanCity theatre, a held over portion of the DOXA Documentary Film Festival.
City Beats: Lost Vancouver from the '40s to the 60s was, for curator and Videomatica co-owner Graham Peat, a chance to not only glimpse the Vancouver of yesteryear, but to showcase some of the talented filmmakers of the time. These weren't the usual promotional films one is accustomed to seeing 'Old Vancouver' appear in.

The first of the three, 1949's In the Daytime, featured voiceover poetry set to scenes of rowboaters on Lost Lagoon, lapping waves at English Bay and the old Hollyburn, departing for an Indian Arm cruise.

The main attraction though, was a chance to see the eastern part of False Creek, and the now filled-in arm of it which extended to Chinatown in the mid 1950s. A man haphazardly hammers a block of wood onto the side of his forlorn vessel; two boys splash around on the slippery planks before commandeering a rowboat. Summer Afternoon centred on those young boys, following their mischievious little adventure on the periphery of Skid Road. At one point, they sneak into the Yen Lock restaurant on East Pender (which closed down just over a decade ago) for a quick handout from the chefs, who are themselves having their customary mid-afternoon meal during the slow hour.
One of the lads, Chipper Mah, showed up for the screening and recounted bits of his own youth, growing up on Jackson Avenue, near Chinatown.

The third film, Strange Grey Day This was Director Maurice Embra's portrait of emerging "beatnik" artist and poet bill bissett from 1966. We see bissett's Kitsilano studio/home, complete with holes in ceiling and rent unpaid for ten months. We hear of how the police constantly give him the gears and how local children throw stones at his windows on their way home from school. Although I expected the least from this film in a strictly historical/documentary sense, it was more evolved as a social portrayal of the time. And bissett wasn't afraid to let the viewer become intimate with his thought process.

Unfortunately, the prospects of seeing these CBC and BC Archive held films released to the public seems remote. Anyone who has reviewed and studied local historical moving image knows this is an ongoing frustration. As Peat resignedly explained afterwards: "originally, the mandate of the archives was to preserve these films, but there was nothing about making them available to the public."

The Alley Floor (# 16, 23, 33,51, 53, 56, 59 and 69) 

States of the various projects

Overpass essay -- Still pending an available free day for finishing up the archival research. Also hoping to complete one more interview. But hey, the opera cd finally arrived in the mail!

The Alley Floor-- Taken all the required photos now. Just need to size and post them to the gallery and of course write up an intro piece.

Whatever happened to the 'walking photo-essays'? -- Just finished another yesterday. A Surrey-based one. Now comes the chore (albeit an enjoyable one) of skimming the cream off of the 500 or so photographs, and setting up the new gallery.

How about the manuscript? -- Just haven't had the time in the past few months as priorities have been shifting, seismically. It will come.

How about the art? -- Ditto. But there will soon be a fairly substantial output, I expect.

How about the music? -- See "How about the art?".

Recent family news and an uncertain residency situation will likely delay completion of anything for quite some time. All I can say is-- thanks for bearing with me!

She wrote novels, inspired me with her warm, compassionate nature, and roasted the best potatoes imaginable. Even though she traveled the world far and wide, something as simple as tending the flowers in the garden brought her the greatest joy. That was my Grandma. Alzheimers may have affected her a bit over the final few years, but it could never overshadow the Grandma I remember.

Waking me up in the morning with a cup of tea and digestive biscuit. Just before I'd go for a walk to downtown Victoria, she would sneakily slip me a ten dollar bill as a bit of spending money.
One day Grandma decided that she had to quit smoking completely after more than 50 years. And of course, she did.

She was kindhearted and friendly, but always, always put her family first.

So, in that place where the good ones go when they leave us, she is there, free of burdens, with her older brother Jim who passed when she was just a girl. Indeed she was a Scottish lass and proud of it-- could sing any number of old songs on cue. It was serendipity that, as she lay in bed during those final days, the cancer taking over, one of the songs on the CD they brought in for comfort was The Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond.

She would often talk about Bonnie Prince Charlie and how her family was descended from the proud MacDonald of Clanranald who were betrayed by the Campbells all those centuries ago at Glencoe. She would talk about her youth in Edinburgh (that's ED-IN-BURR-AA for those who can't say it properly), or growing up in Newcastle-on-Tyne when her family moved to England. She was proud of her family's humble, hard working roots. Above all, she had the ability to put herself into the shoes of others and never look down on people. That was my Grandma.

Even as the disease which affected her memory for words reached its zenith and those words, which shaped her career from the CBC to being a Novelist, didn't come anymore, I could tell that she recognized us all-- each and every one of us, individually.
And she laughed and cried with us to the end. I am proud to be of her clan and I know my bonnie Grandma will always be a part of who I am.

    The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring
    And in sunshine the waters are sleeping
    But the broken heart, it kens nae second spring again
    Tho' the world knows not how we are grieving

Heard it somewhere near here.

...and yet we still get the same old blather from some Canadians. The usual tired lines spewed by the often anonymous which include "get over it", "lots of things happened to lots of people", "it's all about money" blah, blah, blah.
This is something everyone in the country has to face and will continue to have to face. All this tired talk comes across as the modern way of saying what the old Superintendents of Indian Affairs would say. You know, stuff about the "Indian problem" and how it was necessary to take away who these people were as human beings. Now there is the guise of "everyone should be equal". Equal to what, exactly?
No one's going anywhere so everyone quit the silly talk. Respect.

So this goes out to the good people I grew up with and met along the journey-- most especially: a Gitxsan stoner from Terrace ;) and a hard working Gitxsan mom from Hazelton, a Nisga'a babe from Laxgalts'ap, Musqueam twins from Richmond, a pair of Squamish artists from across the water and a good-hearted, proud Nlaka'pamux from Boston Bar. Thanks for your friendship.