Delicious, delicious organs

Every few weeks, one of our managers or other leaders will host a learning session during our weekly department meeting. Occasionally, that means we get a guest speaker who works in communications/marketing or public relations in another organization. We've had guests from other government departments, police services and other levels of government. 

They're always really informative sessions, and it's nice to network and connect with other people in the industry. What we do in communications is as much about making connections as it is about writing words on a page. Especially in the PR/Marketing part of what we do. 

Our most recent guest was from the Saskatchewan Health Authority, and more specifically, from the team that works with the Saskatchewan Organ Registry. She talked about some of the challenges and opportunities they've had in promoting the Registry and some of the work they've done to help spread the message. 

In the opportunity column, unfortunately, many of the chances they have to spread the news about organ donation come after a tragedy or loss. For example, after the Broncos Bus crash in 2018, player Logan Boulet donated his organs. This led to a groundswell of people registering and a grassroots campaign to get the word out. Our guest has used that movement to help promote the registry in Saskatchewan and get people talking about it. 

Likewise, in life and in death, Bella Thompson (Bella Brave) and her mother, Kyla Thompson, shone a bright spotlight on organ donation and worked (and still work) with the Saskatchewan Health Authority to spread the word about organ donation. 

The most relatable part of her presentation for me was in one of the challenges - folklore and false information that prevents willing people from registering. It spoke to me because, as someone who works to communicate traffic safety, we run into this all the time. You aren't better off without a seatbelt than with one. The slowest person on the road isn't the danger - it's the fastest people. But try to convince Buddy from Radville of that. 

The other way this connected with me was that I saw I was also a victim of a misconception that was preventing me from being registered to donate. The misconception is that the red sticker on my health card and donation card in my wallet are enough. They are not, and no longer indicate consent to take my organs if I die. Honestly, I think one of the kids tried to tell me this once, and I even ignored her. If you want to donate your organs to help others in Saskatchewan, you need to be registered. Not only does it make it easier on authorities to learn that you want to donate, but what if you die without your wallet on you? I know, you sleep with your wallet, but what if you're taking a shower or someone steals your pants while you're showing off how you can do a helicopter? It also makes your consent very clear and has a feature to inform your loved ones about donating. Best not leave it to chance. 

The good news? Registering is really easy. Like, it probably takes less time than filling out that tiny donation card. And it also looks way better than that ratchet old health card you've had tumbling around since 1997. 

Just visit the Saskatchewan Organ and Tissue Donation Registry website and go through the prompts. I'm positive it took me less than 5 minutes, and that included writing Rhonda a tender message about why I was donating and encouraging her to donate as well. 

That tender message actually kinda choked me up to write. It's hard to think of putting your family through that decision at such a hard time. So it was important to be sensitive, grateful and explain my decision. 

Rhonda, a registered nurse, also registered to donate in response. Her letter was just "yep, I'm donating, thanks for the reminder". Medical people can be so callous. 

If you aren't already registered and organ donation is something you're willing to do for someone else, go do it today and encourage your friends and family to help out too. If you're like me and think that you already were because of the red dot on your health card, well, times have changed. Sask Health may never update our health cards, but you can update your donation wishes! 

If you don't want to, hey, I respect that. If you're willing to share, why not? I'm curious to learn why. My personal belief is that while I might not know exactly where my spirit will go when I die, but I know it's not taking my stuff or my body with it. I'd much rather it be useful to someone else. But maybe that doesn't jive with you. Share in the comments if you like! 

(Heat) Strokin' Out

 I've spent the last two weekends in Manitou Beach at the Manitou Beach Busking Festival as a performer. A fabulous couple of weekends, a well-run event and a great chance to catch up with some old music friends and meet some new ones. 

The first weekend was very wet, the tail end of the weeks of rain we've been seeing around these parts. I'm not being hyperbolic in saying we had rain pretty much every single day for about 4 weeks. Great for the lawn I'm trying to regrow, terrible for my tan. 

Well, the rain finally broke this weekend, and Saturday and Sunday were clear and very hot. For the most part, I handled it well on Saturday. I found shade where I needed to, took long breaks and slammed the first Gatorade I've consumed in a few years. A solid B+ performance for taking care of myself on Saturday. 

Sunday, on the other hand, I threw all caution to the wind. 

Not that it was intentional. I certainly started the day off with good behaviour and made efforts to stay cool and hydrated. But that started to slip in the afternoon. I had picked up an extra busking hour at "il Pirato", the local guitar luthier, and ended up working a second hour when the next performer didn't show up. Happy to play and even happier to make a few more bucks. But I probably should have spent that time in the shade. 

I had to leave that performance and head straight down to the beach, where I had my final performance in the direct sun - already a bit crispy from the 2 hours I'd just spent performing. 

Suffice it to say, it didn't go great. I actually got a clip of video from a friend who was there, and I would really like to just bury it.  You can hear the heat stroke in my performance. 

I drove home straight from the performance, about 2 hours, and while I was tired, I didn't think I was in any extreme distress. I suppose I should have clued in to how I ate the peach on the drive. It was like a wolf going after a toddler's arm in Moose Jaw. Got home, unpacked - all seemed relatively normal. Tired, hungry, but not in any distress. 

Nah, the distress came yesterday. It started the moment I woke up, when my whole body seized up, and I let out a cry that Rhonda could only compare to the screaming of the Nazgul. It didn't take me long to realize that things weren't good. I could barely open my eyes and could only slowly shuffle around the house. I tried to go through my morning routine, make coffee, and get lunch ready. But I soon concluded that I wasn't leaving the house. I probably shouldn't leave bed. 

And so, this is where you find me, reader. I've recovered a bit. The cherry sunburn is turning to a lovely chocolate tan. I can stand upright for a few minutes and even made the trip to the bus this morning. I've still got a pretty sore neck and shoulder from playing so much, but I'm at least mobile again today. 

I'm very glad for the break from the rain. But my God, the sun sure did a number on me! 

Who'll stop the rain?

After a good run of very dry years, summer 2026 has been a pretty wet spring/summer. The snow left late, and I think it's rained nearly every day for the past month. 

Overall, being 44, I'm pretty happy about how it's helping my grass. I've been trying to re-grow my front lawn after the City dug it up last summer to replace the sweet, sweet lead in my pipes with lifeless plastic. With daily rain, it means I don't need to haul the hose out every night to keep the thing watered. I am, however, ready for it to dry up a little bit so I can mow. 

It's hit extra hard in Regina over the last few weeks. Back on June 9, we got hit with a massive hailstorm. Toonie-sized hail, y'all. It was a wild night. I was sitting on the back deck watching the clouds roll in. There was a big, loud blast of lightning/thunder, and then I could just hear this dull rumble in the distance. I sat and watched over the next two minutes as it got closer and louder. To the point where I was a little worried I was hearing a tornado coming, not hail. But then the telltale "ping" of a stone hitting a downspout and the storm front hit. Luckily, our new car was one neighbourhood over and was completely missed. And the Traverse was in the garage. Kayah's car, on the other hand, now looks like a golf ball. And that's not the last abuse we're going to hear about that car here. 

Would I lie to you?

This past weekend brought another dump on Regina, this time just heavy rain. I caught the start of the storm on my way to Manitou Beach, where I was performing at the Manitou busking festival. I texted home and advised everyone to move their cars in. Kayah did not get the message. The water got up to about three feet in the street out front. Amazing, since, as I mentioned at the start of this post, they spent all last summer replacing the plumbing under our street. So Kayah's car got flooded and is now drying in the garage. That poor car may not survive the summer. 

It only got worse from here.

To top it all off, I had to go to Saskatoon for a media event yesterday. Got soaked again. I mean, good for the crops, good for the forest fire guys. I might even be able to get through my summer holidays without a fire ban. And I'd like to enjoy my second weekend in Manitou next weekend without all of the mud. I'm pretty good at camping, and I kept myself dry and comfortable last weekend. But guh that mud all over and just slipping everywhere. Plus, I actually had to dry out my guitar and case when I got home on Sunday. A first for me. 

So yeah. There's my weekly report, from the Vancouver of the prairies. Hope you're staying dry, safe and afloat! 

Another Graduation

 With absolutely no forewarning, Kayah graduated from high school yesterday. 

I joke that there was no warning, but in some respects, I'm serious. It was clear in the conversation Rhonda and I had on the way home after dropping her off that it did kinda sneak up on us. Like Kayah talked about it all year, and we only bought 19 grad dresses, and it was basically all anyone was allowed to mention the last couple of weeks. But I don't think either of us really processed that Kayah was here. 

Kayah is a spicy person. She exploded into our lives and has been the center of so much of our family for most of it. That's not all negative - although there were times it was. She's just a very big personality in a little lady. I think that's why this snuck up, we've kinda learned to maybe put some of Kayah's enthusiasm on a shelf just to preserve our own mental space. 

And lordy, how dynamic this little lady has become. She's headed to U of R in the fall to start a degree in Social Work, with some intention to head into law from there. I can see that path adjusting over the next few years, but at the end of it, I know she'll do her work helping people and sharing that big, caring heart with so much of the world. 

For as chaotic as Kayah can be, the grad itself was textbook boring. 3 hours of names just being read over and over and over. Then another half hour at the prom supper that night. Strangely, I was embracing that boredom lately. There's a lot of talk these days about how we don't allow ourselves to be bored anymore. We always have a phone to scroll or a game to play. I just sat back and let it happen. As it is, even though (or maybe because) I hate ceremony, I don't attend many. A funeral here or there, and the odd award thing is maybe all I have to suffer. I did it a lot more when I was younger, going to church every weekend. Plus, the last few weeks have been chaotic, as was the day itself yesterday. Why not sit back and just zone out? Let the brain drain out some of those harmful stress hormones? 

Aside from the ceremony - which was like every other grad ceremony I've been to - we also went to a prom dinner. Rhonda and I finally got to meet Kayah's boyfriend's parents. She's only been dating him for 3 years. Suppose it was time. They seem like delightful folks, about a decade older than us. Their son is their youngest, and Kayah is our middle kiddo. So they're just wrapping up the kid part of life. We've got 3 more years. 

Various offspring

The day and how grown up Kayah's become didn't hit me until we had the dad/daughter dance at the start of the prom. She's still my little Kayah, but she's so grown up, so full of ideas and dreams and potential. I'm so incredibly proud of her. Not the high school thing, there were like 200 people in that room that achieved that. Hell, even THE NAVIGATOR graduated. Nothing to be proud of there. But she's grown into such a motivated and caring young woman, and dancing with her there last night it just sort of all came to me. Michelle even messaged to ask me where the Dad tears were, like just because I didn't share it on social didn't mean it wasn't there. 

So yeah. 2 of 3 graduated, and I'm sure this last one is gonna happen FAST. It seems like just yesterday I was showing Kayah how to take the bus to school, and the next day it was Jonas. So tomorrow, he should be graduating, right? 

Finals

Kayah is graduating next Monday which means this week... is finals. 

Cue dramatic music

I was bugging her about studying and she quickly retorted that I was probably the kind of person that never studied. I told her I did study but only when I wanted to and I didn't want to very often. So I would settle for for a 70 instead of the high 90s that she's shooting for. 

In my adulthood, I'm finding the best way for me to learn is to learn while I'm applying the knowledge. 

A couple of years ago I graduated from the Public Relations Diploma at the University of Victoria. It was a distance education course that took me about 3 years to finish. It was really in-depth and really rewarding, but I think I got the most out of it because I was also working for a media relations shop while taking the education. 

I was able to apply the things I learned at night to my daily work and a lot of things really stuck and connected because of that. Plus I think I challenged the people I worked with quite a bit. This arrangement really worked for me and it showed up in my marks. I finished the program with a 91% average and a deep understanding of public relations. 

I'm finding the same thing as I'm re-entering the music scene. I'm making mistakes and going down. Weird paths but it's teaching me some lessons while I learn other lessons online and read about things. I've been taking seminars and going to songwriter meetups to try and learn more about the craft. But I'm also out there playing gigs making mistakes in the studio. And meeting people all along the way. I'm having a great time learning this way.

 But, I feel like I'm in my own finals. Maybe an easier like grade 9 finals, but finals nonetheless. After the release of Trevor's Tincture back in May, I've been playing almost non-stop with an out of town gig pretty much every weekend. It's not just teaching me to play and entertain, but how to manage my life and responsibilities while being out so much. It's been busy. Very busy. 

That's not something you can learn by watching YouTube videos or practicing scales in the bedroom. You need to actually do the work to figure out logistics like where you're staying the night, how to plan out your travel to arrive on time (but not too early), how to negotiate contracts and how to handle everyone calling you the "kazoo guy" now. 

I still have 3 out-of-town weekends ahead and then there's really nothing on my calendar for a while. I'm kinda relieved. I could use the break from travelling, spend some time watering my lawn and just generally doing a little bit less for a while. But of course - something will come along. 

Oh and in the midst of this all, Kayah is graduating. 

Sigh. 

 

Damn wee wooos

 Hello reader. I'm feeling a bit lethargic this morning, so I've decided to ask a friend to do a guest post on Pilot's World today. Please enjoy and be kind; she's a new writer.  - Pilot

Hellos!

My name is Ahsoka Francesca Newfounland IV. As my last name hints, I am a Newfoundland-breed dog. I am 5 and a half years old. 

Me enjoying the finer things on Doodey Street

As you know, Pilot is a man, and I am a dog, so I am his best friend. Not just a friend, as indicated in that rather weak introduction. Thanks for the rousing introduction, man. 

An interesting fact about me is that I have lived for my entire life on a street named "Cameron". Even before I moved in with Pilot, the house where I was born was also on Cameron. Just a few blocks north of where I live now! 

It's a pretty nice street. There are lots of trees around to sniff, and on any given day, someone has left a hot dog bun or some leftover spaghetti on the ground for doggos like me to enjoy. It's pretty great.  

But there is another street very close to Cameron that's not so great. Sometimes we go walking on that street. Its name is Doodey Street, I think they call it that after a big piece of shit. There are not as many trees, and there are lots of cars that drive very fast on it. 

But there is one particular type of car that's extra annoying. Always looking for attention, they're constantly screaming, "wee woo, wee woo," or sometimes really fast, "wow wow wow wow." All hours of the day and night, "wee woo, wee woo."

Now, I am as fond as the next person of giving a nice loud "AWOOO" or even a few nice "woof woofs" when you meet someone. I mean, you need to let them know you're excited to meet them. But these guys are next level. You can hear them for BLOCKS. 

That noise kind of annoys me, but it sends my brother Liberty into an absolute crisis. He has to howl back and gets all antsy. Sometimes he even needs to go hide with Mom. He puts on a brave face, but I think he's secretly a bit of a coward. 

But sometimes I get to see these loud cars, and it's even worse than all the noise they make. Some of the cars are small, some even look like Dad's car, which he takes us on rides in. Others are really BIG with lots of hoses on them. Liberty always tells me he'd love to bite one of those hoses, that it's probably way better to bite than the little snakey hose we have in the yard. 

But the worst part is that if they aren't attention hogs enough, they're covered in flashing lights! If I could see colour, I wonder what colour they'd be? Probably glitter. 

The noisy menace is filling my street with water

Sometimes they even escape Doodey and come onto our street, at which point these men in big snow suits come out and start breaking stuff! They take big hammers and start knocking holes in things, then they take those hoses and start filling people's houses with water! I mean, I love water, but I don't want to SLEEP in it. 

Rude. 

The menace kidnaps people across the street.

Sometimes these other smaller ones come, and they just straight up steal people. Sometimes they're strapped to a bed with wheels on it. Other times, they tie a person's hands up and throw them in the back, and the car drives away again with those flashing lights and noises. 

These cars are an absolute menace, and since my Dad isn't doing a DAMN THING ABOUT IT, I call on you, gentle reader, will you please come (bring Capone and Sadie) and tell them to be quiet? Tell them to go inside and leave us alone. I know they can go inside, I saw some going inside their home a long way away on Doodey a couple of years ago when Dad would take me on super long walks. (Hey Dad, when are we doing a long walk again?)

I'm glad that I've been able to catch a few pictures of these criminals from the front window. You can see a lot from there, and I'm always very vigilant to let people know when these bad boys are around. Or if there's a dog on the street. 

In conclusion, I wish there weren't so many grandstanding cars around. We all need a bit of noise in our lives, but I'm totally sick of it. And their behaviour is terrible. They need to leave people alone. 

-Ahsoka 🐾

Old Man Yells at Bus

I ride the bus to work every day, plus any time I need to get downtown. I know the bus isn't for everyone, and it's only because I live in a particular part of town that it comes in as convenient for me. Like faster than driving to work, convenient. Faster than walking, convenient. 

What can I say, I ride a chauffeured vehicle that costs many millions of dollars to work every day. 

Score. 

But the shine has started to wear off my trusty transit transportation tale. 

The longest-standing issue has been with many of the drivers. To be sure, there are many great drivers in Regina Transit, and when the ride is smooth, it's kinda blissful. You can just relax and get home. But there's quite a crop of drivers coming out lately that make me wonder if they truly obtained their Class 1 licence. Jerky stops and starts, and rude behaviour can really ruin that end-of-day ride. 

In some cases, I get it. Being a bus driver seems good on paper, but when you look at the reality, it's not all sitting on your butt saying hello to Mrs. Jenkins. I've seen people full fist punch the bus, overdose and get in fights on the bus. More than any driver is paid to deal with. 

The riders are the other wildcard. Sometimes you can have a deep philosophical chat on the nature of words. Other times, they're punching the side of the bus so hard you wonder how they don't break a hand. Seen people overdose on the bus. And don't even get me started on not being able to use the accessible seating while I'm having a gout attack because some loser won't move. 

And I think that those things are pretty universal gripes with transit all over the world. It's hard to deliver that kind of service well. 

But Regina Transit has started to cross the line with me lately. It started in April when the cost of a monthly pass went up by $9. A 10% increase. Just like that.

Now, I am in a place where I can absorb that cost. I get it, the world is getting more expensive. But, for a lot of people, they can't. So there will be more of those violent encounters to look forward to. 

And the coup de gras? They removed both of the stops where I get picked up and dropped off. Like gone. They won't pick me up there anymore. So this mobility-challenged man is now forced to walk an extra two blocks at the start and end of my day. In addition to the two extra blocks I've been walking downtown for the last 2 years while the City takes FIVE FREAKING YEARS TO FIX ONE STREET. It's tolerable right now in clear weather, but once the snow returns, those extra blocks are going to be un-navigable for me. 

Yes, I'll write a letter. And yes, I'll get my blood pressure up when I read their dismissive response about cost-cutting. Talk about the danger of monopoly, as it is companies are trying to charge more for less, and when it's a government monopoly, they won't even hesitate. 

The next time I see the word "accessible" on the bus, I swear to God I'll deface it. Transit is a service for the lowest earners and the lease priviledged among us. If you're making it inaccessible and expensive, then who exactly is this service serving? 

No one. 

Results-driven Elmer Fudd

Many, many years ago, my youngest sister, Shanna (Soulfood), had a little rabbit named George. George had all black fur and was very small. Like very, very small. I don't know if he was some breed of dwarf rabbit or what, but he was always able to fit in the palm of my hand. 

Shanna always wanted a rabbit, so there was some delight when she finally got one. But at the same time, I don't know that she was in a position to care for an animal yet. At the same time, she was about 15 when she got George, so also just a teenager. And who cares about anything when you're a teenager? 

And so it fell to me on occasion to look after the little guy. Not that this was much of a lift, feed him, clean out his cage, play with him once in a while. One day, while I was playing with ol' George, Mom instructed me to go give that rabbit a bath. 

I recall even saying then, "Do rabbits need baths?" My thought was maybe they're self-cleaning. Like a cat. Or the oven. 

But mom insisted so dutifully, I proceeded. I took George to the sink, put in some water and gave him a gentle scrub. After that, I wiped him off, put a towel in the bottom of the bathtub and let George run around a bit in there to get totally dry - rather than put him back in his cage where his wet fur would just get clogged with woodchips. 

I left for a moment to do something and, upon return, found ol' George dead as a doornail.

It was pretty upsetting. I mentioned it in a discussion with Kayah last week that I haven't faced death that often. Since then, I've said goodbye to a couple of dogs and many fish. But up to that point, it had only been some distant or very old relatives. I'd never stared death in the face. 

Fast forward 25 years to Sunday night (Monday morning?), and I was driving south on Highway 2 on the way home from a gig in Prince Albert. I had just passed the turnoff to Penzance when a streak dashed from the ditch to the left of me and directly under my bumper. The last I would see was two tall rabbit ears before a sickening THUMP. 

Pilot's rabbit bodycount: 2. 

Talk about taking the joy out of a good night. Luckily, the car wasn't damaged, but that poor rabbit is now another mess of roadkill on the side of the road. 

I'm not so sure why Elmer Fudd found rabbit hunting so hard. I've taken two down without too much effort, and in my part of the world, you can walk within a couple of feet of a rabbit. I guess it speaks to the skill and intelligence of Bugs Bunny that he was able to survive so many run-ins.  But I do think ol' Elmer may need some guidance from an experienced hunter. 

Because if I were in a survival situation, I'd be eating rabbit. 

Be Prepared

 I spent 9 years of my youth in one of the various Boy Scouts of Canada clubs. Beaver, Cubs, Scouts. Aside from never really getting my knots down, I enjoyed the experience. Sometimes I wish I still had my Scout book. Maybe I'll find one at a thrift store sometime. 

The Scouts have a motto: Be Prepared. Now, that motto talks a lot about duty, and I think duty and responsibility are important parts of being prepared. But I've always felt that being prepared was a lot about being ready to respond to a large range of scenarios. You could be useful, but also life-saving. 

The motto seeps into a lot of my life. My everyday carry is a pocket knife, phone and a lighter. They're pretty useful a lot of the time, and they prepare me for a number of emergent situations as well. 

The backpack I take to work is even worse. Pens, a flashlight, a fingernail multitool, a cloth, a notepad, an umbrella and at any given time, typically some coffee, water and food. I'm prepared for an awful lot. Add to that dressing in layers and with some foresight, and I get through quite a large swath of life. 

Enter, last Thursday and a kinda nasty rain/windstorm by local standards. The forecast was calling for some really rough weather. In a first for me, the forecast even said that there was a possibility that utilities could be affected. 

The morning dawned reasonably mild, but it had that wet quality to it that reminded me I should bring my raincoat. We were commenting on the deteriorating weather at every morning meeting, and no sooner had my final meeting in the afternoon ended than the power went out. 

I kept busy for a bit, did my notebook, wrote some emails, and tidied up my desk. But everyone around me was getting more and more worried. The office soon started clearing out. Since I'm just recovering from my most recent gout attack, I opted to stick around until the power came back and avoid taking 18 flights of stairs to street level. Then the evacuation alarm went off. 

So, I grabbed my coat, my backpack, and I headed down the stairs. We were corralled out to the parking lot across the street, out in the rain and wind. Then the instruction came, "If you can get home without re-entering the building or parkade, you're dismissed for the day."

There was some real math here for me. 1 mile walk home, about a 1/2 mile walk to the bus, but there's an even-odd chance that it never shows up because the wind is so bad they're taking them off the road. I chose to take the walk home. The power was out, so there was no light at Albert and Saskatchewan Drive - a dangerous intersection at the best of times. Then just uphill on Albert, into the wind on Dewdney, and I was home - completely exhausted. 

I had been prepared with the right clothing and good shoes. But I was very, very exhausted. I'm out of shape from that gout attack, and I was barely able to navigate that particular situation.

This has brought to mind that old adage of "Be Prepared". Police cam YouTuber, Sergeant Curtis, always talks about officers being in the right shape for the fight of their lives. While I don't know that I'd typically hold my office-job having butt to the standard of a police officer, I do work in an 18th-floor office. Yes, I'm coming off a health issue, but I could be working harder to train up to recover and be better prepared to navigate a scenario like that in the future. 

Because my God, my whole body hurts.

Time to do some cleanup

I sat down to write this post without a good idea in mind. I actually had a beautiful diatribe in mind on Friday night, but I didn't write any of it down, so now I don't have anything. 

I went into my drafts on Blogger to see what I could maybe work with. 39 draft stories. Some are interesting ideas. Some are just cringe. Let's try to knock a few off the list!

US Election
Nov 4, 2008

 

Well it's so historic, so I'd better blog.

The real history here isn't colour or race or age. It's the end of the Nixon era finally coming to fruition. Today will be seen as the day the United States decided to change how it runs itself and how the world sees it.

Make no mistake, the world begins to change tommorrow.

 

Oh, my dear boy. You have no idea. One word - birtherism. You'll look back on the Bush era with fondness.

Defund the CBC?
Oct 10, 2010

I've been kinda toying with this idea for a while, but never found myself in a conclusive place. My argument is that we should be taking the money going to the CBC and spreading it across all independent media. I also think that the harm the Online News Act did to Canadian media, they could be offset by the boost from the government. 

Benn Jordan has some really good arguments and ideas about eliminating copyright and changing how media is paid for. I think big systemic shifts are needed to keep our news, media, art and entertainment solvent. 

What a Storm!

Aug 8, 2007

Well, you didn't write anything at all in this one bonehead, so we only know from the title that it was a big storm. I dunno, I looked it up, and we only got a half centimetre of rain. And you didn't even write a post. Not that great of a storm. 

Magic 103.5 FM is the coolest radio station on the freaking planet.

Jan 20, 2007

Ok folks, so Wednesday hit me with some great news. The contest for free Tragically Hip tickets that I had gotten into the day before, scored me a free pair of tickets for the show last night. So off i went to check out the show with the lil' lady.

How about some video of the show for your guys.

Yup, that was a good show. Kinda surprised I didn't finish this one. You can watch the video here! 

Fun story, while we were finding our seats, we crossed paths with the then Premier of Saskatchewan, Lorne Calvert. And to my shock and awe, Rhonda turned to His Eminence and struck up a conversation. I would later learn that she had known him since she was a kid, and her mom worked for him. She never introduced me, and I've never let her live it down. 

Leaving the Masterpiece Unfinished
Dec 23, 2004

I recently finished reading the Dark Tower series by Stephen King. The first three books were amazing, and frankly I feel some of his best writing. The last four books of the series were crap. I also recently acquired access to the Star Wars SPecial Edition Trilogy. Again, what the hell was Lucas thinking... hell what's he thinking with the prequels for that matter. It just seems that once someone creates something cool, they can't leave it alone to be judged for what it is, or they try so hard to "finish" it that it turns to crap. Maybe Chaucer didn't finish the Canterbury Tales because all he was getting were dumb ideas involving a goat. Does anyone want to sit through another hour of Lord of the Rings:Return of the King?

Poor guy. Doesn't know about Rise of Skywalker yet. Or P. Diddy. 

There was another draft in the list that was just a link to clone-high.com. Doesn't work, but it's still owned by Chorus Entertainment according to WHOIS. Talk about masterpieces left unfinished. 

Picasso's Deli
October 6, 2005

It was a little deli in the old Co-op building in downtown Weyburn. They made a great pastrami on rye, and I ate a lot of sandwiches and soup from that place for a couple of years. Doesn't look like it's still around. 

"This is the Real Issue"
Mar 21, 2008

Chris Crocker ladies and gentlemen,

I had absolutely no idea what any of this was at first. I had to Google it. Known today as Cara Cunningham, they're famous for the "Leave Britney Alone!" video. Considering the life we've seen Briney Spears navigate in the years since, she was lucky to have someone like Cara raising the alarm. 

I'm Hardcore 
Dec 27, 2004

No, you're not. And some of the shit you're going to see and experience in the next year is going to really highlight that. 

You never do get that hardcore. But you're a punk.

Tape
Jan 30, 2026

Masking

Scotch

Packing 

Duct

Electric

Gaffer

Fruit by the foot

Audio tape and video tape

Yep, it was a bit slow in January. You just about got a 2-page list of all the kinds of tape I could think of. Also missing: aluminum, paper, butcher, measure, worm, bubble gum and crime scene.

Well, that took the number of old drafts down to 27. And there are a couple in there that I'm going to build out to full articles yet. I also deleted a couple that were kind of literally nothing. What kind of tape should I add to the list? Do you remember Picasso's Deli? What unfinished masterpiece is your favourite?