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.