The Bri-Pod

Shedding the Stache

2011-11-30T09:12:00.000-08:00

Click here to donate to the Movember Campaign!

Movember 2011 is winding down and so is my fun pretending to be a moustache man.

I am reaching the point where I have to part with the moustache and it’s a little harder than I thought it would be. It’s become a part of me and a part of my face. Why don’t I just keep it? It has to go in true Movember fashion. I’ve raised awareness and eyebrows but shaving it is apart of the rules of the month long campaign.

To alleviate the stress of parting with the stache, I have decided to go in stages. What was once a sweet handle bar moustache, has to first be transformed into the classic moustache. One month of work…literally down the drain. I needed a few beers to loosen me up a little then out came the razor. Then after realizing the razor would not be able to penetrate the hair fortress I built, I grabbed the clippers. What followed was a rollercoaster ride of emotions.

The sounds that came out of my bathroom as I trimmed down the stache was along the lines of a clogged gas leaf blower struggling to clear itself with whimpers only audible in the bursts they escaped me.

The trembling trimmer came up to my face and the reality of what was about to happen became palpable as the first few hairs hit the sink. I knew I was knee deep and then went for it. A full swipe up on one of the hair bars. It took about 15 swipes of my trimmer before a noticeable change was seen.

Half way there. I was committed to the whole removal process. After another 15 swipes, my handle bar moustache was no more. I was left with the classic. And not to say the handlebars were bad, but I was much more happy with this look. Something to look out for next year perhaps.

One more day of food and ladies stuck in my moustache. And what a ride it has been. My upper lip will be revealed in a matter of hours. There will no doubt be tears when that time comes. Stand by…

My Path to Creepiness

2011-11-09T16:14:00.000-08:00

I have surpassed the one week mark of my month-long moustache marathon and the results are beginning to shock me. For someone that has never grown facial hair to this extent, this is a strange venture. Some might take the route of growing out the stubble to the point where it might look like a faux-beard before trying something like a moustache. I, on the other hand, took testosterone by the horns and let it go wild on my face (written or spoken, that sentence really doesn’t sound right).

(The photo has been slightly manipulated...but I can assure you, the moustache has not been altered).

I have come to the point where I feel weird if I walk by a playground or smile at a passerby. I hope they have heard of Movemeber. If not, I am that creepy looking guy with a moustache. That’s not to say all moustaches are creepy. I just can’t pull it off. It looks like a giraffe in the arctic. Something just isn’t right about it.

I am enjoying myself. I have so much more to fidget around with. My static pose not is standing while stroking the man fur on my face. I also have to give a shout out to my neighbour, Pino for his efforts this season. Not only does he look suave, he looks as if he could open up a used car lot (a successful one) filled with all the Pontiac Sunfires one could imagine. Power to the 'stache, Pino.

I will post again during week number two to update the creepiness factor.

To all those growing the upper lip fuzz - - Keep up the great work. And to those interested in supporting, please follow the links below to donate to the awareness of men’s health issues.

To donate to on my behalf, click here!

Movember Mayhem

2011-11-02T14:03:00.000-07:00

January, February, March, April, May June, July, August, September, October, time to grow a moustache (more affectionately referred to as Movember), December.

Let the growth of hair on my face begin. Sure, it may seem like a simple task; all I have to do is sit and grow a moustache…heck, I could even lay down and grow a moustache. However, I am embarking on a momentous occasion by growing facial hair for the first time. Sure, I have had a soul-patch from time to time, but I am talking full fledged facial hair. It is the time when boyish Brian becomes manly Brian (I am taking way too much pride in this). But for the first time in my life I will have something on my upper lip that isn’t sweat, dead skin, chap stick, juice, pizza sauce or peach fuzz. I am entering a new realm...a realm for a great cause.

(Above: My hairless upper lip)

Since 2003, the Movember campaign has encouraged men (beginning in Melbourne, Australia) to grow out the hair on their upper lip as, according to the official website, a way to, "raise awareness by prompting private and public conversation around the often ignored issue of men’s health." This is a cause I am on board for. Since it's beginnings, the Movember campaign has seen their humble beginnings become a world-wide fundraiser that has raised about 176 million dollars from 1.1 million registered participants for men's health organizations. Right here in Ontatio, the money raised will go to the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Canada.

There is no real reason as to why I have never had facial although keeping a clean shaven face for my job is preferred and I will admit, adds to the professionalism of my work. I have decided, however, to cut away from the preferred clean cut look and take on the persona of a man with a moustache and a cause. Although I would like to just say I am growing a moustache, I am happy to be doing it in support of the month long fundraiser to shed (…maybe grow) light on these important men’s health issues. Plus if I am walking by a park filled with children, I am not the creepy man with a moustache, but a guy trying to raise a few bucks for men’s health.

Not to say I had a burning desire to raise money, but I realized, I hadn’t really raised money for something since I was in high school and university and working on student organizations. I am due to give back. That’s not to say I don’t contribute. For there was this one time when I was walking down the street and I saw a homeless man on the street on a cold night. I walked up to give him a toonie and realized his hands were down his pants. To my surprise, he took his hands out of the front of his pants and took the toonie from my hand. A good deed indeed. And I guess staying warm comes in strange ways sometimes so I don’t judge.

Let the itchiness begin and the testosterone flood out of my raise and hopefully start a fountain of giving. As stated on the Movember website: “Mo Bros effectively become walking, talking billboards for the 30 days of November." Below you will find a link to the official Movember fundraising website where you can donate to Prostate Cancer Canada’s movement on behalf of my moustache. Even if not on my behalf, donate on someone's behalf. It's a good cause.

To Donate: http://mobro.co/brianwithaneye

More information: http://ca.movember.com/?home

My Top 25 Movies (I Think)

2011-03-03T18:20:00.001-08:00

When I moved into my apartment a few years ago, I wanted to spruce the place up and decided a giant chalkboard would be the perfect way to do so. I could make a giant slate, hang it on my wall and have an ever changing façade dependant upon how I felt. I could create, erase, and do it all over again.

After trying to draw cool things, I realized I lack all the necessary abilities of creating visual art. Refer to diagram below to see a bird that I tried to draw. I added the colour in “post-production” but that is an exact tracing of a bird I originally drew. That proves that I have no drawing abilities.

Shortly after the bird was erased, I took to my next chalk board excursion: try to write down my top 25 films. That may seem like an easy task, but trust me. If you were given a chance to prioritize and select your top 25 movies, it’s way more difficult than you could imagine.

There are many ways you could look at the term “top 25”. Is it the top 25 movies you have ever seen? Is it the top 25 movies you would want to watch if you were stranded on a desert island? I took the later of the two.

After having my list up on the board, I got mixed reviews on my choices. Ok, that’s a lie. A majority of people trash talked my list. I will admit. There might appear to be some questionable material on the list. I would like to take a moment to justify my answers though. Feel free to judge me, but please respect the bravery it takes to post such a list.

1 - The Untouchables – I first saw it in a grade 10 history class when we were studying the prohibition. When you think back to your favourite movies, I am sure the last place you would think to pull from would be the line-up from your grade 10 history syllabus. I do remember prior to the movie, my teacher mentioning it took some persuading for the principal to allow her to show it. I am glad we did. This movie has cinematography comparable to Scarface (Brian DePalma directed both movies) and although I have never lived in the 1930’s I would say the creators of this film did a knock up job recreating the scenery and situations of the time. I could watch this movie raw and always find something new to gawk at. With popular actors (of their time) like Kevin Costner, Sean Connery and Robert De Nero, the movie is carried with veterans of the art of film. The balance between action and dramatic scenes allows the movie to flow from plot to plot without a hitch which takes the viewer on a booze-fueled look at how Al Capone stuck it to the man and imported Canadian Whiskey into the States. This movie is violent but is careful not to exploit the scenes enough to make it a large part of the movie. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIF_WdPUBFo)

2 - Little Miss Sunshine – This movie is a rollercoaster of emotions. Little Miss Sunshine has a strange way of making you laugh and then bite your lip as a tidal wave of drama washes away the happy. I think that’s what makes the movie so great. It touches upon a lot of serious issues such as drug addiction, family values and the dysfunctional side of them, along with the perils of being accepted into society for trying to be who you really are. Steve Carell takes on a unique role in this film playing a character with serious emotional problems. His dry delivery of lines is still hilarious though as he interacts with the rest of the cast which allows them to shine in their respective roles. Hop aboard their Volkswagon bus as this family crosses America to enter their chubby daughter into a beauty contest. Seriously, that’s what it’s about.(Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWyH_twcMl0)

3 – Memento – Buckle up. This movie is unlike anything I have ever seen. The plot alone is nuts…the way the story is told is “nuts-er”. Just see it. You won’t be disappointed. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vS0E9bBSL0)

4 - Big Fish – I am a man so I don’t cry. If there is one movie that has brought me close to tears though, it is Big Fish. Thanks a lot Tim Burton. I don’t usually like movies with a fantasy aspect to them. I feel wrong for saying this movie is fantasy but there is no way this movie is based on a true story. And if it is, I want to go there. The movie follows a guy who is trying to dissect the childish stories his father used to tell him. The son is always frustrated by his father’s imagination and brushes all the stories away as to not feel like a child. The further he looks into these fabricated stories from his father however, the more he realizes there might be some truth behind them. Will it be to late for the son to make amends with his father who lies on his death bed? (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-d-kjzBmz6I)

5 – Gladiator – TESTOSTERONE! (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ol67qo3WhJk)

6 – Fubar – I like documentaries and I am Canadian. So of course Fubar is on my list. I first saw this movie in high school on VHS. My buddy picked it up at a Sunrise Records on a whim. It ended up being one of the funniest movies I have ever seen. I know I said that, and I really hope this doesn’t get your hopes up. I think the key to this movie is to go into it not expecting much….or anything at all. This movie taught me how to party and I still use some of the techniques from the two main characters today. The movie follows Dean and Terry; two guys from Alberta known as “Headbangers”. They are two lanky and dirty guys with mullets and are severely Canadian. Farrel Mitchner, an amateur filmmaker follows their every move as they deal with issues that are normal for any Headbanger in Alberta along with trying to get treatment for Dean who has been diagnosed with testicular cancer. They manage to get themselves into some pretty interesting situations across the province and they meet some very fun people along the way. This is one of the best quotable movies ever. Giv'er! (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIpD1kXDpWI)

7 - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – This movie is directed by French’s Michel Gondry and his style is evident in every nook and cranny of this film (French as in the country French, not French’s Mustard). Jim Carrey stars in a serious role in this film which is oddly refreshing. I guess it is most effective because you see someone that is usually acting happy looking upset for once. It really conveys the sense of heartbreak his character goes through in this film. The movie is visually awesome and you wouldn’t necessarily realize how tedious some of the shots in the film are until you watch the bonus features on the DVD. What you would think was computer graphics were actually just camera angles and techniques to make some stunning scenes. Jim Carrey’s character recently broke up with his girlfriend and is so affected by the break up that he wants to erase her from his mind…If only there was a way to do that. Well, this movie delivers on that front. His body might want to get rid of his girl, but does his subconscious want to? (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnSgSe2GzDc)

8 - To Kill A Mockingbird – Now here is a movie that will make you want to change the world. If you haven’t read the book by Harper Lee, do that first, then watch this movie. The book allows you to paint the portrait of what you think the characters and the scenery should look like. Then when you watch the movie, you realize how everything was described so well in the book because everything looks exactly the way you wanted it to look. In a nut shell, the movie follows Atticus Finch, A lawyer from the southern States that is asked to represent a black man in a rape trial that he clearly wasn’t involved in. It is a simple look at life in the southern States long ago and respectfully shows the racial tension in a small community. To Kill a Mockingbird makes you feel as if you’re walking through this small town and hanging out with everyone from Atticus’ kids, to rocking on a rocking chair with an old cranky lady on her porch. This is the second movie that almost made me cry…but I didn’t because I am a man. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd7NFo9P-fg)

9 - Man on the Moon – If you’re reading this, Andy Kaufman: I loved your movie. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LER9pt-hFLM)

10 - Grizzly Man – Any movie that documents a man that lives with bears must be amazing…especially when it is narrated by the man, the movie legend, Werner Herzog. This guy is something else. Every documentary Herzog does manages to show a side of the people he follows in a way you would never expect to see. You get a glimpse into the life of Timothy Treadwell and his friends. The film researches the life of Treadwell and tries to answer the question of why he would want to put his life in danger to live with Grizzly Bears. The movie is a synergy of footage shot by Treadwell when he lived with the bears/wildlife and the interviews Herzog does with the friends and family of Treadwell. The two realms of the film (interviews and actual footage) blend together so well that you would think it was all made at the same time. Herzog’s narration is distracting at first as his accent is so undecipherable, but soon falls into the rhythm of the film and becomes the voice of the movie. Herzog becomes so emotionally attached to his subject that he respectfully tells Treadwell’s story with a slew of interviews and research. You really have to see this film to believe it. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWycuaWJFCM)

11 - Matchstick Men – I want to say this movie will keep you guessing right up until the credits roll but it doesn’t. You’ll assume the plot is going to follow one way right until the last 15 minutes of the movie. Then, all of a sudden, you’re taken for a loop that will make you smile by how clever it was to trick you. Nicholas Cage plays an obsessive compulsive fraudster who befriends….or berelatives his estranged daughter. The only thing he knows how to do is be a fraudster, and his daughter isn’t going to change his way…but she certainly does help him become better at is profession. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5usEKgLM1GY)

12 - Life is Beautiful – Here’s another movie I saw in a history class. This class dated back to grade 8 though. Maybe this movie seemed to griping at first just because it wasn’t like all the other history movies I was watching at that time in class about Confederation. This movie takes a look at the Holocaust by focusing on one family in particular. This family manages to stick out of the conformity of the concentration camps to capture the camaraderie of a family that was torn apart by Nazis but would do anything to get back together. With their mother/wife gone, a father does his best to keep his son’s spirits up by shadowing him from the real problems they are both facing. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64ZoO7oiN0s)

13 – Incident at Loch Ness – Is it real or is it fake? You have to decide. This movie was made by the always eclectic Werner Herzog and is no doubt a chapter from his brain. Herzog shoots this documentary in Scotland…the home of Nessie, the alleged Loch Ness Monster. Herzog, along with a group of explorers and professionals set off to once and for all settle the legend of the Loch Ness. Their findings are profound to say the least. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=756qS4keqig)

14 - Wall-E – How on earth, or whatever planet this movie takes place on, does a little inanimate robot connect to an audience so well!? The simplicity of this movie blows my mind. There are two robots that share just enough human qualities to be considered “alive” that seem to come alive and share a dialogue between each other even though they only mutter and mumble their thoughts. With those very few human qualities on these robots, we identify them as humans with emotions regardless of how far off they are from having a real heart. The movie manages to show the environmental problems that could inhibit our planet in the years to come but is careful not to blend that message with the true message of the film: friendship between robots. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eu2AyDHq8UM_)

15 - Forrest Gump – What a story! Every time I see this movie, I feel as if I am traveling through time and following a Vietnam War Vet names Forrest try to find his way in the…hang on. Why even bother describing this movie? If you haven’t seen this film stop reading this and go watch it now, you Dingus. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obaW5wZw3rE)

16 – The Truman Show – For at least a few years after watching this movie, I spent a lot of time looking for hidden cameras around my house. I also assumed everyone around me was an actor. Now that I think about it, I was pretty pompous to think someone would base a television show around my life. This movie is another Jim Carrey movie that shows a Jim Carrey unlike the chipped tooth Ace Ventura that many know him for. He plays a subdued and more serious role but still allows his slapstick body to come through. Watch the movie and see this man try to solve the mystery of his life that everyone on the planet has been watching. Everything about his world that he thought was real, wasn’t. His job, his friends, his family, all come crashing down around him as he tries to escape the movie set that he once called home. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0rHH6LQdpI)

17 - The Graduate – Maybe I am just a big fan of Simon and Garfunkel. Or maybe I am just a fan of great movies. I had watched this movie when I was younger and didn’t really get it. When I watched it again in a film class in university, it blew my mind. If this movie is good enough to get a shout out in a Simpson’s episode, it is good enough to be number 17 on my list of favourite movies. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsdvhJTqLak)

18 - The Weatherman – Back to Nicholas Cage…I really like this movie. Nicholas Cage, as usual, plays the role of a guy that just can’t get his luck sorted out. The film is so depressing to watch as you see the downfall of cable television weather man. His family, his marriage, his friends, and career fall apart around him but he can’t do anything but pretend to be happy on television. Even people he doesn’t know blame him for the bad weather in their city. Cage can’t catch a break but seems to find some refuge in the sport of archery. Don’t believe me? Watch the movie. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3_KgbI0PKY)

19 - Hot Rod – This is the stupidest movie on my list. And one of the stupidest movies I have ever seen. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make me laugh every time I see it. Hot Rod is exactly what you would expect from a film syndicated by Saturday Night Live. The acting is so stupidly bad that it’s great and the plot is so ridiculously unbelievable that you are glad it isn’t real. I think what gets me about this movie is the simplicity of each stupid character and the obscure-ness of each of them. Another stupid movie that is very quotable. Basically, this stupid movie follows an amateur stunt man, played by Andy Samberg, as he tries to raise money for his father’s stupid life saving surgery. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PlrxUzKYoI)

20 - Old School – This is one of those movies that everyone seems to own and is willing to throw it on when you can’t decide on something else to watch. I would argue that this is one of Will Ferrall’s most memorable roles even though he only plays a supporting character. Regardless, it is a pretty unbelievable plot but fun to watch it pan out. A bunch of 30-somethings going back to college to party and start a fraternity. Who wouldn’t want to live that out? (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybNn__9pnms)

21 - Grandma’s Boy – If you like the movie Half Baked, you will fall in love with this movie. Relax and enjoy it. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsEuOw3ihbs)

22 - All The President’s Men – I think this is the movie that made me want to study journalism. What an epic movie all based on true events! This movie showcases the two young journalists that expose the Watergate scandal. As you’re watching the film, it is hard to believe that (most of) this actually happened. The story itself is far-out enough that you would expect it to be written by a team of writers. Sometimes true events are better than what any writing team could boil up. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fLdCZm7qgs)

23 - Big Daddy – I had this movie on VHS and when DVD’s became the new media of choice, I picked it up on DVD. I am not entirely sure why this movie is so good but it is. Adam Sandler’s dry delivery throughout the movie shows a side of him that isn’t obnoxious and he even goes a majority of the movie without doing any stupid voices. He plays the character well in this film. Also, now that my friends are starting to have kids, it’s funny to see how similar Adam Sandler’s parenting in Big Daddy is similar to how I would picture my friends raising a kid. Poorly, but with so much love. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J_l5fMb1oxg)

24 - Toy Story – I know, I know. Two animated films on the list?! Toy Story always did something to me. I guess I always wanted to know my toys were alive. Who wouldn’t want their toys to be alive? I am pretty sure this is the first movie that got me hooked on Pixar and that’s why it is on my list. It was a movie that did something that I hadn’t seen before when I first saw it in theatres with my Dad. The animation was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was hard for me to watch the movie and soak the plot in when I was too blown away by the visuals. Since then, I have been hooked on Pixar and sought out to get all their short films. A year ago when Toy Story 3 came out, I was excited enough to see it in theatres. Even after all those years, I was still dying to see the antics these toys would get themselves into…this time in 3D! Best (animated) trilogy ever. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYz2wyBy3kc)

25 - Lord of War – I can’t believe this is the third movie I have on my list with Nicholas Cage as the leading role. I wouldn’t say I REALLY like Nicholas Cage as an actor…maybe I do if he is in three of these 25 choices. What’s the deal with him anyway? He seems to get a bad rep. He is a little funny looking and he was in the movie Faceoff. So those are two things right off that back that don’t play into his favour. He always seems to deteriorate in all his movies. He starts off semi-normal in every movie he is in which just progresses with a downward spiral. Hm…nonetheless, see Lord of War for another Nicholas Cage downward spiral. If you’re not convinced to watch it, just sit through the opening credits. You won’t be able to peel yourself away from the screen. (Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avESXf5_1Zk)

Top 10 Honourable Mentions that for some reason didn’t make it on my list (in no particular order):

Spun - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrWD1kVi0ME

Control Room - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-C-pf6ZPmw

Encounters at the End of the World - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3leTaf2Txw

Uncle Buck - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_lOyGcMIEU

Comedian - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVDzuT0fXro

Castaway - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJvosb4UCLs

Catfish - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3EDxgecC14

Exit Through the Gift Shop - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHJBdDSTbLw

Moon - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twuScTcDP_Q

Outsourced - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LImhTTFu4b8

Brian Vs. The Back of a Taxi

2011-02-28T18:25:00.000-08:00

(Above: My Bike, Spring 2010 - February 28th, 2011)

I  have been riding a bike in the city for the past year or so. It has  become my major means of transportation. I have saved hundreds of  dollars in cab and TTC  fees and hours of time by booking it through the streets of Toronto.  Riding a bike has given me a hobby. It has given me something to be  passionate about. I have put in a lot of time and money to creating a  bike that felt good and I spent a lot of time using to to become an avid  and coordinated cyclist. I love biking and I love my bike. Or should I say, I loved my bike. I love it in the sense that we have been through so much together and been on so many adventures! I loved it in the sense that I can no longer ride this particular bike anymore.

Let’s  start off today’s tale by talking about yesterday. I had a day off and  planned on taking apart my bike and putting it back together. Riding in  the winter causes a lot of build of salt, dirt, and crud from the winter  roads. I took everything off the frame and polished everything. I put  my bike back together and went for a ride on my rollers to make sure  everything was in prime condition. It was. My bike is a finely tuned  machine and it was running at top speed. Little did I know that it would  be the last time I would begin and end a ride with the bike in one,  ride-able piece. 
  
The next day (February 28th,  2011), I had a few things to do around the downtown core. The roads  looked clean and the sun was shining! Perfect day for a ride. I suited  up and hit the streets. I took my usual path. East on Bloor  to Bay St., then south on Bay to get into the heart of Toronto’s core. I  like(d) riding down Bay St. because the right lane is for taxis, bikes,  and buses between Monday-Friday 7am-7pm. It was 2PM. There is plenty of  room for everyone to co-exist in these lanes. I was givin’er  down Bay just south of College at about 25KM/H when the taxi in front  of me stopped suddenly...very suddenly. That’s when I stopped. I should  get into a little detail to tell you how I stopped: 
  
I grabbed my front brake and pulled as hard as I could to try and avoid this taxi/roadblock that stopped in my path. I didn’t  have time or the space to go on either side of the Taxi. My rear wheel  started to elevate as my front wheel skid on the ground. I leaned  forward to try and stop by back wheel from spinning but it was too late.  I smashed into the back of the taxi with enough force to bend my steel  forks back. My bike stopped but my body kept going. I landed on the  trunk of the taxi and smashed my face into the rear window of the cab. I  slid off the side of the cab and hit the street. That’s how I stopped. 
  
Luckily,  a few kind pedestrians lent a hand to and helped me off the road. As  they ran towards me while I was on the street I noticed I was missing a  front tooth. Things rushed into my head. If I hit the taxi hard enough  to crack my tooth, how was the rest of me. The first thing I asked these  people was: “Am I bleeding and how’s my nose?” He said I wasn’t bleeding. Just then, a few drops of blood fell from my eye brow.  “Wait, yea you’re bleeding.” I felt my nose and it felt fine. The taxi  driver came over too. We spoke briefly and he asked if I was ok. I was just glad we were both ok enough to be standing on the edge of the road.  He told me someone stopped quickly in front of him. I believed it too. Those things tend to happen on Bay St.  I  went to look at my reflection in a window on the side of the street. It  just happened to be the window of a dentist (just my luck). I joked  around with the people that stopped and pretended to go inside. I think  they thought I was concussed and just laughed with (at) me.  I  looked fine considering what just happened. A young lady came to give  me a few tissues to cover the gash above my eye. I took the Kleenex then  asked her for one more thing: a hug. She was gracious enough to give me  a gentle hold. It was exactly what I needed at that time. In the  distance I heard sirens become louder and louder. I continued to smile  and joke around with the people that stopped to make sure I was ok  by pretending to cry over my bike which I was hugging at that point. I  then offered money to whoever could find my tooth (which is still  missing…the dentist thinks I swallowed it). The  pedestrians told me to just sit tight as an ambulance was on its way.  They seemed worried and said it looked like a horrifying accident. I  felt fine.
 So  I knew my tooth was busted and I needed to get it fixed. The longer I  spent with that chipped tooth, the stranger it felt. I called up Blair,  my roommate. He was in the midst of driving his girlfriend, Kristina, to  work. She works at a dentist! Scores! They agreed to swing by and pick  me up and take me to the dentist as long as I wasn’t  seriously hurt. The ambulance rushed up to me and stopped. The  paramedics came out and then invited me into the back of the ambulance. I  asked if I could bring my bike. There wasn’t  any room, but the Hug-Lady offered to watch it for me. I hopped into  the ambulance and was greeted by two young lady paramedics. Nice!  They  gave me a once over and asked if I wanted a ride to the hospital to get  a few stitches above my eye. I said I was fine and would get my own way  to the hospital. They monitored me for a bit and took down my  information. Blair and Kristina arrived at this point. The back of the  ambulance opened and they said hi. I smiled my wonky smile at them. I  signed off some paperwork and the paramedics gave me an ice pack and  bandaged my eye. At this point, a police officer came in. I smiled at  her and she laughed at me…oh right, I looked like Ace Ventura  at this point. She took down a brief statement from me and even said I  should win the award for “happiest guy that’s ever been in an accident.”  That made me smile my wonky smile again. One of the most heart warming  things happened after that. There was a knock on the back of the  ambulance and the door opened and Hug-Lady, guy that called the  ambulance and another young lady (all the people that stopped) wanted to  say good bye to me as they had given their statements and were free to  go. I waved at them and told them I was fine. I wish I had a chance to  thank them again. 
  
I  hopped out of the ambulance and thanked the paramedics and asked the  one paramedic if her number was still 911. She laughed. I think. I was  then led into a police car to give my statement to a cop. He was a pretty  funny guy too and joked around with me a lot. For example, when he said  I was free to go, I tried to open the back door. He reminded me that I  was in the back of a police car. The only way I could get out from the  inside was to shoot my way out. He asked if I had a firearm. I said no,  so he came out and let me out of the confines of that tiny sliver of a  backseat. He went over to my bike with me to take a look at the damage.  He said it is a nice bike. I corrected him and told him it WAS a nice  bike. I got my first good look at the damage. The forks were totaled and  bent back far enough that the front wheel was scrapping my frame.  Everything else was fine including my front wheel which I still don’t  understand how it didn’t bend. I locked up my bike on the side of the road and hopped in Blair’s jeep to head to the dentist. After a few x-rays at the dentist, I was told there wasn’t  any root damage which means no root canal. My day was just getting  better and better! He capped up my tooth rather quickly and even  stitched up my eye for me! This was the coolest dentist ever.

With  a new tooth, and two new stitches, I hit the road again to go back to  Bay St. to rescue my bike to bring it home. The poor thing is sitting  next to me as I type this. I can hear it whimper. Poor bike.
  
As  horrible as the situation was, I feel happy knowing this whole thing  could have been much worse. As exhilarating as it is to fly down Bay  St., I am thinking I should slow down. Whether or not that will actually  happen...who knows. 
  
Here’s to another ride and a new bike and a new tooth.

To the Brians of the world:

2011-02-16T11:55:00.000-08:00

I got a piece of mail today and it was addressed to "Brain" Lidster as opposed to "Brian" Lidster. I had an epiphany at that moment and realized I have gotten used to that over the course of my life. Many people spell my name wrong. My mother even spells my name wrong. Ok, that last part wasn't true, but it’s difficult thing I have had to endure here on my time on this planet is dealing with the fact that people don't take the time to spell my name correctly. That wasn’t entirely true either, but it has always piqued my curiosity as to how it happens. I mean...common. There are five god-damn letters in it. B-R-I-A-N. Two of those letters (BR) should automatically be placed when spelling my name...You're not putting that B or R later on in the name and still have it sound like "BRian." That leaves three letters to put into the correct order (I-A-N). Now considering my name ends with a sound of "ANNE", it should be no problem deciphering those letters should be at the very end of the spelling of "BriAN". That leaves the lone "I" along and with no other place to go but in the very middle of the "BR" and the "AN". I know I have had more practice spelling the name Brian than many people; especially those not named Brian, but all I am asking for a little patience when writing down my name. I know I am not the only one that suffers from the affliction of having their name spelt wrong. But I do know that I am willing to take the battle to the next level and bring this into the public's eye. And as long as I am on the topic, what’s up with those Bryans.?Any Brian and Bryan out there can tell you that when they see each other with their respective spelling, there is a strange unsettling feeling us Brians will have towards the Bryans. Why would you spell your name “Br-yan”? Why would you spell your name “Br-eye-anne”...I'll never know.

The Global Food Fight

2011-01-30T16:09:00.001-08:00

Photo Credit: Anthony Easton

(Originally Written on 10/16/08)

When asked to name traditional foods from the western world, some responses might be clichéd food choices such as hot dogs or ham and cheese sandwiches. It is predicted that not many would mention egg rolls or chicken balls. Why would somebody? Those items are usually found on a Chinese food menu or buffet. This attitude is shared amongst many fueling the misconception of what authentic Chinese food actually is. The western world has manipulated Chinese food and “Americanized” traditional Chinese food items. Thanks to the website by the popular Chinese food restaurant, the Mandarin, society is made to believe that the items found on these buffets are straight from Chinese culture and dining at the restaurant will offer a culturally unique experience.

The Mandarin has been deceiving Canadians since in inception in Brampton, Ontario in 1979. Since then, they have strived to create an authentic Chinese themed atmosphere, which shrouds the lack of authentic Asian cuisine they offer. For those that think it is strange for them to have garlic bread, mashed potatoes, and pizza on the menu, those items have the same connection to Chinese culture as chicken balls or chop suey; both of which originated in the United States in the mid-eighteenth century. [1] Traditional Chinese dishes use meats like snake, duck, rabbit, and frog, many of which are not found anywhere on the Mandarin’s website. Many of the techniques to Americanize Chinese food have been taken from early Chinese food restaurants in San Francisco that were opened by Cantonese entrepreneurs. After realizing their meals were not adjusting to American culture, they tampered with their original recipes to embrace the tastes and cooking techniques North Americans enjoyed. [2]

The western world is so intrigued by the Mandarin and what it offers mainly because the Mandarin’s website is “structured to boost the value of a commodity brand names by attaching them to images that possess social and cultural value.” (Goldman, 81) The food is not the only reason for people to visit to the Mandarin. Patrons at the restaurant have succumbed to the power of the Mandarin’s radio, television and website advertisements and subscribe to the belief that they are experiencing a unique and multicultural experience. This has translated into an economically flourishing restaurant. It is a proven fact that people believe the Mandarin offer’s an authentic Chinese experience. A quick visit to the Reader’s Choice Awards website will show the Mandarin has won in the Best Chinese Food award for many years. [3]

Globalization is seen in two different paradigms using the example of the Mandarin’s website. Globalization can refer to a country’s ideals being placed on another culture to promote their lifestyle. Having said that, the first denotative example of globalization from the Mandarin’s website is the promotion of an Asian identity. The images and colours on the website correspond to the theme of the restaurant. Items such as the Chinese dragon and lanterns are presented with the Morin Kuhr (Chinese Violin) playing during the intro. These media are presented to the western world in order to show the Chinese culture present at the restaurant. Historic Chinese symbols and sounds are used to create the atmosphere of a different world. Arguably, the second globalization argument can be made about the unconscious push towards an Americanized appeal which is shown in a connotative level on the website. Although the theme presented is heavily influenced by Chinese culture, the foods shown are mainly from the western world. Many of the items in the photographs are the items from the Mandarin that are not influenced by Chinese culture. By consuming the Mandarin’s food, the patrons are just furthering their likeness towards north American foods while moving further away from the Chinese authenticity. Without the research into traditional Chinese cuisine, the average person will be persuaded to believe they are gaining a unique experience with the traditions of the Chinese.

Take the waiters and waitresses at the Mandarin to further the example of the two paradigms of globalization the Mandarin tries to emit. Everyone that works on the floor at the Mandarin dealing with the public is of Asian descent. This is the Asian influence/contribution to the restaurant’s theme. A quick glance at their nametags though would show the western world’s influence. Their nametags will have generic names which are easily relatable to those from the western world. (from my last personal experience at the Mandarin, my waiters name was Phil)

The Mandarin’s website tries to promote multiculturalism through its use of music and images. The website also has tools for a visitor to use to learn more about the Chinese New Year by reading about the traditional animal that corresponds to someone’s year of birth. The website even offers a visitor the ability to click on an interactive fortune cookie that dispels a fortune. Although trying to once again connect with the western world by offering a ‘traditional’ Chinese icon, they are actually exploiting a perceived Chinese symbol. The fortune cookie was first seen in San Francisco in the late 19^th century and is thought to be invented by Asian immigrants; from Japan, not China.[4] Unfortunately, the Mandarin’s website is not furthering multiculturalism, it is just adding to the stereotypes of what the western world believes to be authentically Chinese.

When looking at how the Mandarin’s website disseminates a synergistic culture some racial undertones become prevalent. If someone from China were to go visit the Mandarin in southern, Ontario, they would be utterly confused to see a traditional décor without the traditional foods. The fact the Mandarin’s website exploits Chinese traditions and symbols to sell a product and idea shows little disregard for the Chinese culture. The website presents no real appeal to the Chinese population and no real want to offer any history about the Chinese culture. The website unfairly capitalizes on the Chinese image and nothing more although tries to show it is done in a sentimental way such as engaging the public with virtual fortune cookies.

The public have no idea they are being sold an illegitimate culture. The ideologies of the western world are being hidden behind items that many believe to be Chinese. It can be argued that this is a mild type of cultural propaganda. The Mandarin is spreading the ideals of a unique culture that are severely skewed and misrepresented. The persuasion techniques on the website rely upon the audible and visual senses of one in taking the information. With both of these senses being filled with strong messages, it is hard for someone to believe they are not being informed by a credible and legitimate website. With such an appealing look, the site will be taken as a credible source by the visitors. Their previous misconceptions will further be fueled by the websites message of what Chinese culture is with little effort to clear up these interpretations.

Visiting the Mandarin’s website followed by a trip to the actual restaurant would make many from the west feel that they have traveled to a far away land. Sadly, the far away land is no further away than their own city; figuratively and literally. As long as the Mandarin keeps up with their visually stimulating website and advertising campaigns that focus on stereotypical Chinese culture, the western world will continue to take these things at face value. North Americans will continue to believe they are leading a culturally diverse life while wondering why all the culturally diverse foods they eat taste exactly like something deep fried from Kentucky Fried Chicken. As long as the experience is different though, North America will accept what they believe to be true instead of realizing it takes more than a coy fish pond at the entrance of a restaurant and a couple of Chinese lanterns hanging around a buffet to fully experience another culture.

Work Cited

Books

Goldman, Robert. “Advertising in the Age of Accelerated Meaning.” The Consumer Society Reader. The New Press, New York. P.81.

Websites

“American Chinese and Traditional Chinese” Healthmad August 7, 2008. Accessed October 14^th, 2008. healthmad.com/Nutrition/American-Chinese-and-Traditional-Chinese-Food.198965

“Chinese Cuisine” About.com 2008. Accessed October 14^th, 2008.

chinesefood.about.com/od/recipesbymeal/a/chow-mein.htm

“Fortune Cookie History” ChineseFortuneCookies.com 2005. Accessed October 15^th, 2008. chinese-fortune-cookie.com/fortune-cookie-history.html

“Readers Choice Awards 2008” Readers Choice. 2008. Accessed October 14^th, 2008. readerschoiceawards.ca/

[1] chinesefood.about.com/od/recipesbymeal/a/chow-mein.htm

[2] healthmad.com/Nutrition/American-Chinese-and-Traditional-Chinese-Food.198965

[3] readerschoiceawards.ca

[4] chinese-fortune-cookie.com/fortune-cookie-history.html

A Chin-teresting Story: How I became the real Scarface

2011-01-23T20:29:00.001-08:00

I was organizing my computer hard drive the other day and came across a folder entitled “Busted Chin”. The Busted Chin folder was inside another folder entitled “Pictures”. I immediately knew what I had come across. I came across some pictures and the memories of a night that I won’t soon forget. Who am I kidding? A majority of this is still quite hazy in my mind. Anyway, I should also preface this story with an announcement:

The following story and pictures are disgusting and should not be viewed by anyone that cringes at the site of a little blood and guts. You’ve been warned.

It was Friday February 6^th, 2009. I was out with a friend that night. We had a few drinks and some pub grub at a spot just down the road from my apartment. We came back to my place and put on a movie. We both eventually fell asleep during the movie. It was about an hour later and I was awoken by the flickering movie from my computer screen and severe cotton mouth. Seriously, bone dry. I needed hydration. I arose from my bed and made my way to the kitchen. I live in a medium sized Toronto apartment. So the trip from the bedroom to the kitchen is not that far. Half way to the kitchen though, something didn’t feel right. I was seeing stars. This has happened to me before. I was light headed from getting up too quickly. I knew the drill. I knew what I needed to do. I needed to get some blood into my head. STAT! Now I obviously wasn’t thinking straight at this point because I had the great idea to pull a 180 and head right back to my room to my bed. You’re a genious, Brian…not only will you make it back to your bed, you will be comfortable while the blood disperses itself evenly throughout your body. At least that’s how my blood deprived head saw the events transpire. My body had other ideas. I pulled the 180 then everything went dark.

I awoke a few seconds later feeling a little different than from when I was standing. First things first, I was just a step away from my bedroom door. Hm, I guess I almost got to my room. The next thing I noticed is a pool of blood as I peeled my face off the hardwood floor in the apartment. My nose felt fine. It wasn’t broken. Score! Funny thing is, I didn’t remember eating Tic-Tacs before I passed out. So what were all the Tic Tacs in my mouth? Oh…right, those were actually my teeth. Well not the entire tooth…just bits and pieces from about five teeth in the back of my mouth. It seems as though when I fell, I didn’t put my arms out to support myself. I absorbed the impact with my face. My jaw slammed against my skull with so much force that chipped the teeth as they smashed together. SPPP! SPPP! SPPP! I spit those out of my mouth. I was starting to feel pretty tough at this point. Too bad I was still on the ground wondering where all this blood came from. Next thing I know, There is a shadow standing above me. Holy smokes, I died and the Grim Reaper has come. Oh wait. It’s just my room mate Blair. Blair had already been sleeping and had his door closed but I guess the sound of 160 pounds of muscle hitting the floor woke him up.

Blair tells the story of the look we both had on our faces when we made eye contact. He was looking down at me and I was looking up at him and neither of us really knew how I got there or what had happened. Utter confusion from both of us. At this point, I allegedly starting to pass out again. Blair, being the trained physician he is, took part in “face slapping” to help me regain consciousness. Oddly enough it worked. I got up and made my way to the washroom with his help to get a better look at the damage. OH! There’s where the blood came from. I have a hole in my chin. I would later find out I suffered from a compression skin fracture. That means my skin pressed up against the bone in my chin so hard that the skin just broke apart, hence the gaping hole in my face. To me, it kind of looked like the initial surgical cuts into either the face of Nicholas Cage or John Travolta’s character in the 1997 hit Faceoff (if you haven’t seen this movie, don’t go out of your way to see it). Other than that little setback, I was doing ok. I was in a severe amount of pain at this time as I broke a few teeth but at least I didn’t break my jaw although it did feel that way.

To me, the chin hole looked like something I could just put some pressure on and fall asleep and wake up to laugh about the whole thing. Thank goodness Blair his girlfriend, Kristina were there. They advised me I should probably get it looked at. I eventually agreed. My friend (who woke up only after the events unfolded), Blair, and myself hopped in his car and took a trip to the Toronto General Hospital.

I don’t know if it was my journalistic instinct or the possible concussion talking, but the first thing that came into my mind was, “get the camera.” My reasoning was: how often do you get a chance to go to the hospital with an injury. I wanted to make the most of the situation. Blair agreed to bring his Nikon D200, his photography skills and an iron stomach to document the evening.

We had a pretty smooth ride over to the hospital. We did make the mistake of going to the children’s hospital first though…The children’s hospital and Toronto General are literally a street apart. I saw a sign for the Emergency and assumed I was in the right place. I went into the Children’s hospital and realized I couldn’t get passed the security guard that didn’t believe me when I said I was 12. I was directed to the “big peoples hospital” next door.

(Trying to make myself look as rough as I can while showing off my vitals. Look closely at my chin.)

(The hospital didn't think I lost enough blood so they took just a little bit more for good measures.)

I went in with Blair and after a short wait, I was in a gown resting comfortably on a hospital bed. I was hooked up to a machine to make sure my insides were ok. Everything seemed alright. I had “normal sinus rhythm” in my ticker with a little bit of a “rightward axis”. 88BPM, that might seem a little high, but this I blame on my “white coat syndrome”. For those not familiar with the term, it means I am afraid of doctors and being in any sort of medical building. This condition always gets me into heat with my actual doctor who always assume I have high blood pressure. Try explaining to someone that you’re scared of them…to them. It’s not that easy. I always just say I will lay off the mayonnaise. Anyway, my blood test came back fine too. According to the hospital documents, my provisional diagnosis was I had a: vasovagal episode. I was told to sit tight and wait for someone to stitch me up. I guess putting pressure on the wound was no longer an option. I tried to make the most of the wait and tried to keep Blair entertained. I am sure there were other places he would have rather been than sitting in a hospital next to my while I bled all over myself and complained how my teeth felt sharper. I did things like trying to see how quickly I could get my heart to beat. I was hooked up to a heart monitor at this point and began to shake around in the bed. After that cardiovascular experiment, I was tired of being hooked up to the machine so I took off some of the sticky things on my chest that were listening to my heart. One of the lines on the monitor went flat. Oh wait…now the hospital thinks I am dead. Funny thing is, no one really ran in to check on me.

After a few hours, a young nurse came into the room and after a quick glance, decided I would need a few stitches. I accepted my prognosis and buckled up for a ride. Blair did the same. Even as an experienced photographer, I looked over and saw him looking a little paler than usual. When I saw the pictures after, I realized why.

(Behold! This is what it looks like inside of my face.)

The nurse agreed to allow us to take pictures of the procedure and was in good spirits with us the whole time. She was really nice too. I even thought that as she jabbed a needle full of narcotics into my face. She started to jab around the wound, then in the wound, then really into the wound until the needle was pretty close to the inner area of my skull (at least that’s what it felt like).

(Me with a needle sticking out of my face)

(I figured if my eyes were closed, it would be harder for me to cry.)

Things got numb pretty quick and at this point, I couldn’t feel a thing. She gave it a few moments to fully freeze while she prepped herself with the stitches. I could feel her pulling the pieces of skin on my chin together as she put the stitches in. I could feel the tugs on my face each time she pulled the needle through my skin. It was a weird feeling but not as painful as I thought. Within 20 minutes, my chin was no longer open and everything was put away. I signed a few papers and she told me I was free to go. I popped on my top and walked out of the hospital room. Before I left, I did try and get some pancakes that I could smell being made but I wasn’t invited to the hospital E.R. breakfast.

(I should use this as my Christmas card next year)

(No wait, this will be my Christmas card photo. And to clarify, I was making a face at this point)

(Giving Blair the thumbs up)

(Not a bad job closing up that gash.)

With my newly formed chin and my buddy at my side, I walked out of the hospital feeling a little more manly than I did when I walked in. Next on the docket for that day: get my teeth fixed. Sadly, this wasn’t nearly as exciting as getting stitched up, so unfortunately there are no pictures of this.

A special thanks though to the staff, doctors and nurses at the Toronto General Hospital for being so cool. And a special thanks to my roommate Blair for being there for me, and to his girlfriend Kristina for cleaning up my pool of blood in the hallway. She did miss a spot though. No lie. If you’re ever in my apartment, look near the baseboard across from the washroom. Ya. It’s dry blood.

The Vancouver 2010 Olympic Mitts: Faux Pas or Nostalgia?

2010-11-30T11:41:00.000-08:00

Federal Politicians show their Olympic Spirit in the House of Commons. (Sean Kilpatrick/Canadian Press)

By Brian Lidster

By gracing the country with its presence, the 2010 Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver put Canada under the global spotlight or more accurately, dissected under the rhetorical global microscope. In the usual Olympic spirit, Canada felt the expected kudos and ridicule on the handling of the games by countries that were neither suited nor selected to host the events. The conclusion of the games though, with an arguably shaky start, seemed to garner a mutual respect from Canada’s neighbours (that’s right, I spelt neighbours with a ‘u’). The games concluded and the world forgot about us once again with the exception of many of our intercontinental allies learning that not all parts of Canada have enough snow to hold a skiing and snowboarding event.

Although there were protests and uproars by groups on the interior of this nation unhappy with the placement, portrayal and costs of the games, a majority of Canadians stood proudly together under one flag… wearing red Olympic mitts.

As the popularity of the Olympics surged, Canadians saw the world looking into our windows and doors trying to figure out what exactly Canada was all about. As a Canadian in Canada, I found myself trying to look into these same doors and windows. I was trying to figure out the same thing, specifically, w[/quote]here did all the national pride come from? I always understood Canada’s part in global affairs to be similar to that of a supporting actor’s role in a movie. Sure, we don’t have the leading part, but without us, who knows how the entire movie (world) would fare? The answer is probably fine, but who really wants to find out.

The 2010 Winter Olympics did something to the country that is not often seen or felt on the frozen tundra of Canada. The country was overflowing with pride. Thanks to the branding campaign by a Canadian retailer, The Hudson Bay Company, and with all of our athletes and torchbearers dawning the Canadiana gear, Canadians had a sudden urge to show their pride and excitement. South of the border, popular American TV host Oprah Winfrey even hopped on the bandwagon by promoting the Canadian Olympic gear on her show.

Since many of us weren’t sure how long this craze would last and without spending the big bucks the get an Olympic sweater or coat, we settled for the next best and conveniently priced item. Mitts. The Bay rolled out their line of Olympic mitts made of deep-red wool, [i]coincidently[/i] similar to the red of the Canadian flag. They had the usual pouch to house four fingers and a nub to store the thumb. What made these mitts unique from just a usual pair of red mitts is they were stitched in with the Olympic Rings on the top of the hand proclaiming: Vancouver 2010. On the palm of the mitt, an elegantly simple white maple leaf. Millions of Canadians scraped the shelves bare of these hand warmers. No matter what colour scheme someone was wearing, the mitts had a way of tying everything together (Yes, I spelt colour with a ‘U’). The popularity of the mitts made headlines across the country and gained notoriety from other media outlets stationed in Vancouver. Everyone wanted a piece of these mitts and the three million that were made just weren't enough to keep up with the demand.

At first, I didn’t understand the fascination of the mitts until a friend of mine bought me a pair. I can remember being blown away by seeing the once closet-Canadians waiting to explode out of their shells and show the world that we are a proud nation. Stores couldn’t stock enough of the mitts to protect the fingers of Canadians against the harsh Canadian winter and the comfortably mild Vancouver winter. Those that had the mitts were able to show their patriotism and excitement toward the Olympic games while many others looked onward wishing their hands could look as nationally stylish as the mitt-wearers.

With people walking around wearing their pride proudly (or proudly wearing their pride), there was sense of camaraderie felt by these select Canadian mitt-wearers. I can remember walking down Bloor Street in Toronto during the peak of the Olympic games. Canada’s (absurd) own-the-podium campaign was in full swing and Canadian athletes were literally jumping onto the podium or graciously accepting Canada’s first Gold medal on Canadian soil. I was passing by other people wearing the same mitts as me (or as I like the call them: my fellow Canadians) and on occasion, giving and receiving high fives from them. Extending our arms, we proudly made the maple leafs on our palms touch (or as I liked to call it, the Canadian mitt kiss). I liked this so much, I exchanged Canadian mitt kisses with anyone I passed; leaf en leaf.

I kept this tradition up until one night I saw a young girl wearing the red Olympic mitts. As we approached I smiled and raised my arm to hopefully get a Canadian mitt kiss. Turns out the blaring headphones over her ears and having her head down led to my high five gesture to be taken as an evening whack-job about to attack his next victim. She screamed and understandably ducked to avoid my high five. Oh well...just another girl to turn down a (mitt) kiss from me. Also, if that young lady is reading this: I am sorry to frighten you that night and I only meant to spread the Canadian joy to you.

So here I am one year after the Olympic craze with another winter bearing down on the great city of Toronto. I have just immersed myself in my hallway closet to take part in the Canadian tradition of excavating the winter gear. For those that aren’t familiar with the practice of the excavation of winter gear, it is something that all Canadians go through each time fall turns into winter. It all starts two seasons earlier with the initial signs of spring (temperatures in the afternoon reaching seven Celsius). Canadian’s will shove their mitts, scarves, and boots into the very far depths of their closets hoping they will never have to see them again. And each and every year, we have to go into these same closets and find the match to the odd mitt and wipe the dirt and road salt off our scarves that have had two pairs of winter boots sitting on it since last season.

Upon discovering my one Olympic mitt and finding the other mitt five minutes later inside my hockey skate I was faced with a dilemma. Is wearing these Olympic Mitts going to be like that lame rule of nothing being able to wear white after Labour Day? Have these mitts and the Canadian pride that goes along with them expired? To be honest, I wear white after Labour Day. Heck…I wear white ON Labour Day (And yes, I spelt Labour with a ‘U’ all of those times). I am not going to let a little “Vancouver 2010” insignia stop me from remember the downright excitement I experienced while holding a bottle of Canadian (beer) in my Canadiana mitts, watching Canadian icon, Sidney Crosby, score Canada’s goal to give Team Canada another gold medal for Canada’s Canadian medal count.

I bravely wore them out for the first time when the cold first struck the city. I will admit, I thought twice about wearing them. I mean, what would people say? This guy is too cheap to by Vancouver 2011 gloves (which I would admit, would be a great Idea). I walked out of my apartment elevator and onto the street kind of feeling like I did as a younger lad going to my first day of grade 8 wondering how well my new running shoes would fare with my fellow classmates. It turns out that wearing my Vancouver 2010 mitts was exactly like wearing new shoes to my first day of grade 8. No one really noticed them.

To put me at ease, I saw others dawning the same mitts looking equally rattled from their own excavation process. I then asked myself if they were too cheap to buy the 2011 models of the mitts (and laughed).

This winter season, I implore all Canadians, Vancouver 2010 mitts or sans Vancouver 2010, to think back and reminisce not about the sheer amount of money that was spent on the games, but the pride that we all had while watching our athletes perform as the world looked on. It made us remember what it was to be Canadian and that no matter how deep we are in our Canadian closets, we aren’t afraid every once in a while to pop out and say hello.

I am wearing my mitts as we speak. Not literally right now as I type, but I am wearing them this season (also, try giving someone the middle finger while wearing mitts; along with typing, it’s another thing mitts don’t allow you to do). I don’t see as many of Canadian mitt kisses or pairs of mitts as I did last year but they still make me proud. I ask those that still have these mitts to not have the same fears that I did and wear your mitts with and honour your country. That’s right! Honour with a ‘U’.

Pressing my buttons...

2010-01-18T16:16:00.000-08:00

Dear people that press the crosswalk button:

My name is Brian. I’m the guy that gives you an annoyed look every time you press the button at the crosswalk to instruct the light to change; ordering it to give you the right of way to cross the road. I am also the guy that snickers to myself when you begin to press the button more than once. The initial “tic, tic” sound of the button being pressed soon turns into “tic, tic, tic, tic, tic, tic, tic, tic.” And still, the light does nothing to help you cross the street.

Alright, time to come clean. I pressed that button… once. I remember where it was. I was at Front St. and John St. in downtown Toronto. I was late for work. I needed to cross the street. NOW (and by now, I mean THEN). The orange numbers on the cross walk counter were counting down the inevitable change of the light from red to green; from orange palm, to white man walking. 19. 18. 17. 16. Tic, Tic. "Yes! My Turn!" 15. 14. “Come on and change.” 13. 12. “Why are you doing this to me?” 11. 10. 9. “You’re really starting to piss me off, Button.” 8.7.6. “You’re seriously not going to ignore me, are you? 5. 4. 3. “They should really call you the piss off button…” Two. One. Amber light. Wait just a(nother) darn second. I pressed that button and nothing happened. The light ignored my pleas to change so I could part traffic and walk on through much like Moses did to that pool (I think that’s how the story went).

So there I was stomping and pouting as I made my way across the street and feeling like that light just laughed at me from above while I begged for permission to cross. From there on in, I began to watch people pressed the buttons.

People will get to a light right after they missed their crossing opportunity and press the button. I am guessing these people think traffic will just be ignored and that light will change back right away to allow them to cross. If buttons and lights could talk, I imagine their conversation would go something like this:

Button: Hey light, this guy wants to cross the street.
Light: Yea, I know, but I just changed though.
Button: Yes, but he wants to cross now.
Light: I have the countdown provided for him right there to tell him when he can cross, can’t he see that?
Button: Yes. He just doesn’t care though.
Light: ...Ok.

That button gives the pedestrian a false sense of hope. I am sure they do work at certain cross walks where one flow of traffic is severely out-numbered by the other flow of traffic leaving that button as the only source of summoning a change in traffic flow. I truly doubt though that in the downtown core, these buttons are even connected to anything. Never in my life have I seen a countdown heed in the pressing of a button.

I vow to continue to stare in the face of these button demons that do nothing to make my dreams come true. I will also continue to stare in astonishment while people type a Morse-code message using that large button that will ignore their pleas to cross the street. Look at the countdown. It doesn’t change. Think of the countdown as the: “on your mark, get set.” Then when that light changes on its own accord, regardless of how many times you press that button, you can: “GO!”

This same rant is applied to those that press the “door close” button on the elevator panel.

A glimpse into the perfect world

2009-12-08T11:17:00.000-08:00

I watch infomercials. It didn’t take a lot out of me to admit that. I’m not ashamed at all actually. I think I take refuge in knowing that I do not order any product or idea I am trying to be sold. The closest product I think I have ever come close to contemplating dropping one easy payment of 19.99 is for the Slap Chop. First off, this product seems too good to be true. One Slap, Two Slaps , Three Slaps and I have perfectly crushed nuts…or vegetables and fruit. Plus, I would really like to get my hands on the “Graty”. It seems like a phenomenal product that takes the tears out of grating cheese. Sometimes I just want shredded cheese but I don’t want to have to go through the perils of risking the skin on my knuckles to have block cheese in an alternate form. I still haven’t ordered the Slap Chop and other than asking for it for Christmas, I can’t see my ploy to get one progressing anytime soon.
So why Am I watching all of these infomercials?

To see what a perfect world looks like.

Leaves magically are blown away into perfect piles. Pies are made in seconds and come out of the oven making Betty Crocker crap her pantaloons with envy. Giant salads are no longer the horrific task they used to be, floors can be cleaned with the wipe of an absorbent sponge. … all in the perfect world of Infomercials.

Maybe it’s because I immerse myself into the daily news. It’s tough to read and write about horrific events which seem to plague all the front pages of all the media outlets. I learned the saying, if it bleeds it leads when dealing with the hierarchy of news. Or maybe just the perils of one’s day to day life makes some want to strive for perfection…or at least get a glimpse of what perfection could look like.

All the odd jobs around the house can be finished just by ordering the products I see. Crud on the floor. No problem. Get a super-cool vacuum that pivots in more ways that a Russian ballerina (and sucks just about the same) BAM. Then hop into the kitchen with my wife with some sort of Aussie accent who is more than willing to show me how easy it is to make a salad…AND PEOPLE WILL BE WILLING TO SIT AROUND AND WATCH IT HAPPEN and ask questions out of sheer amazement and curiosity.

No way, not on any planet I’ve ever lived on.

If I tried to show a friend or family member how I make a salad, they would more than likely walk away with no response unless the response was something along the lines of, “I don’t care how quickly you diced that tomato, just serve me some damn salad...with that diced tomato."

Yes, I know. The products don’t actually work like that. Life isn’t really like that. But who doesn’t like to escape from the real world. We do it all the time when searching for entertainment through TV and movies. Why not sit back and get some meal ideas while watching some (in my opinion) phenomenal acting (…can you clean a house and look happy…even if you tried?)

Next time you flip through the channels and see an infomercial, instead of surfing right by, stop and relax. Take a breathe and see what a perfect world would look like. Imagine yourself there...in that moment. See the happiness. See the ease. See the world we will never have.

I must end with a warning though. Keep a disconnect as to not get conned into what is being sold. The reality and expensive reminder of the imperfect world is just a phone call away.

Conquering the Ear: The Blue Tooth

2009-10-18T14:18:00.000-07:00

I promised myself I would never tell a story if I had to set it up by saying “so I was standing at a urinal the other day.” Promises are sometimes broken though.

So I was standing at a urinal the other day in the company of one other person. (he was at one of the other urinals, or course)

Now for those of you that don’t often visit the male restroom, you might be missing out on a key aspect.

The male washroom is a place of serenity. Silence is a necessity. It is not a social forum. It is a place for men to do their business and leave without conversing with anyone.

This is why I was surprised when this man beside me (again, at the other urinal) began talking to me. Not only did he begin talking to me; he spoke to me in a different language.

Pardon me for being arrogant, but I couldn’t tell if he was speaking Mandarin or Cantonese.

Nonetheless, I tried to diffuse this awkward situation. I informed him that I didn’t know what he was saying. Then he laughed at me.

He continued to talk as I walked away, confused and befuddled.

We met again though one last time before we exited the washroom. There we were, standing at the sink on opposite sides of each other. I was then exposed to the truth of what just happened.

In his ear was a device. The Bluetooth. A tiny cell phone which dwells just before the inner ear canal.

Not only was he not talking to me at all, but he was talking to the person on the phone while relieving himself.

A few months later, I was standing at one of the vending machines in the south Atrium of Guelph-Humber. I was getting a Snickers from the chocolate bar machine while someone stood in front of the machine next to me.

“Do I want chocolate or chips?” he said.
I would like to consider myself a helpful guy. I paused my life to walk over and see if I could help this young man make a decision as to what kind of snack he wanted.

After asking him if he was in the mood for something sweet or salty, he looked at me with disgust.

”I am on the phone,” he said.

Am I alone here or do these situations happen to other people? I do not want to have to be a detective to find out if someone is on the telephone. It should be enough to walk up to someone see them holding a phone to their face and realize they are in the middle of another conversation.

Have we socially evolved so much that we can not be alone during the simple moments in life. From what I have been seeing, we need to constantly be connected to others.

Holding a phone to ones head is not a hard task. In fact, I like to look at it as a mild workout. I don’t see a need to limit the hearing senses just to be ready to get a phone call.

To have one ear tuned in to the real world and another just waiting for something or someone better is such a waste. Tune into what is going on around you and leave the earpieces at home.

I worry about how this fad will progress. If it is becoming easier to talk to people at any time, there needs to be limits put in place so these troublesome moments in the washroom and snack machines.

As important as the incoming phone call could be, stop and think about where you are and consider if it really is necessary to make yourself constantly available at anytime.

Bluetooth devices take away from a personable approach with a person as there is the constant question of are they listening to me when I speak to them, or are they listening for someone better.

Leave the earpiece at home. Live in the moment and accept what is happening in the tangible world in front of you.

Esquire Magazine Editor takes to Toronto Basement

2009-09-13T22:34:00.000-07:00

The excitement of the Toronto International Film Festival on the streets above didn’t stop roughly 200 print enthusiasts to set up shop in Indigo’s basement to welcome New York Times bestselling author and editor-at-large of Esquire Magazine, A.J. Jacobs.

Jacobs is in Toronto promoting his newest book The Human Guinea Pig which is in line with the other social experiment-type books he has written in the past.

A shaky introduction from the “events co-coordinator of Indigo” who admitted to not even reading any of Jacobs work brought sneers and even presented a heckler from the audience.

Jacobs didn’t seem to mind and mounted the stage in a casual attire and a geeky smile that is very close to the picture of him on the sleeve of his new book.

“I would like to see it as the end of a trilogy,” said Jacobs from a make-shift stage in the lower levels of the Indigo book store at Bay St. and Bloor St. explaining his third book.

Jacobs' first book was about his goal to become the smartest man in the world by reading the entire Encyclopedia Britannica over a one year period. Throughout the book, he breaks down his experiment into alphabetical order and gives his insight into the items he read about. Jacobs also takes time to point out the fun tidbits that he learned. “I learned things like an opossum has 13 nipples,” he proclaimed gleefully.

After cradling his want for knowledge, Jacobs took on a more spiritual role as he embarked on his second journey by living one full year of his life by following the bible as literally as possible which is written about in A Year of Living Biblically. He writes about his times stoning adulterers in Central Park and not sitting in a public seat as it could be translated as “impure” by the bible.

His most recent bout with a year long goal has seen him take on a more physical adventure. He spends this year of his life doing small experiments like outsource his life tasks out to India, becoming a woman, and to be as honest as possible for one of those months.

“Just to give you an idea, the chapter about radical honesty is entitled, ‘I think you’re fat,’” which brought laughs from the crowd.

Throughout The Human Guinea Pig, Jacobs takes part in a slew of random experiments and writes about the hardships of his endevours including trying to keep his wife and three kids to stick with him through his adventures.

Jacobs told me during the question and answer period that he is excited with the release of his new book and is looking forward to new challenges.

“I don’t know how Hollywood works, but a movie might be the next thing,” he said.

Following the discussions, Jacobs signed copies of his new book for his fans that ranged in age and background. All were equally fascinated by the man and his strange social experiments though.

His newest book hit shelves on September 9 and is selling for just under 30 dollars at most print retailers.

Battle of wing shops swoop into Annex neighborhood

2009-09-13T22:27:00.001-07:00

It all started at 376 Bloor St. West with the opening of St. Louis Bar and Grill that offered their 13 basic flavours of wings.

Then came along Wing Shop 366 at (coincidentally) 366 Bloor St. West that crushed their opponent by offering 30 wing sauces.

With the introduction of the new Puck ‘n Wings restaurant at 362 Bloor St West (where the deadpanned Cluck, Grunt and Low once lived) and their 50 flavours of wings, the small city block on Bloor between Dalton Rd. and Walmer Rd. now presents one of the highest wing-to-flavour ratio’s in the city.

For every one chicken wing on this city block, the new choices at the Puck ‘n Wings restaurant brings the total to an astounding 93 coatings that can smother these bone and meat medleys.

Being in such close proximity to two other wing shops in such a small block takes a brave business plan and the owner and founder of Puck ‘n Wings, David Eisen and his 50 flavours, are up to the challenge.

“I love the competition; I rise to the occasion. It makes us stronger and I have always liked to be the competition,” he said from outside his newest restaurant while contractors bustled around inside.

Eisen is not new to the bar scene either and feels confident his family history has given him the skills to succeed in this tournament of wings.

“Our family has been in the Toronto landscape for over 100 years culminated. We’ve owned some of the oldest taverns and strip joints and bars,” said Eisen.

He continued to say, “my grandfathers carried some of first (alcohol) licenses (in Toronto). Beer is in my blood.”

Eisen got into the bar scene by opening the first Puck ‘n Wings location at Yonge and Finch.

When asked if he felt he would be serving a different clientele in the Annex neighbourhood he laughed and said, ”we’re looking at a much more transient clientele. University obviously jumps out but there will definitely be a mix.”

The inside of 362 Bloor St. W is in the final stages of its conversion into a full-fledged hockey bar which would be a different style of restaurant to the area.

Eisen is promising his guests televisions throughout the bar along with Maple Leaf sports paraphernalia accented with some vintage and recent hockey memorabilia.

If you’re not the type that wants to be surrounded by this Canadiana-motif while you eat, he also promised a patio which would be served by the two garage doors on the outside of the bar.

While Eisen interviewed hopeful bartenders and wait staff out front of his future business, curious onlookers peered into the windows to see what was in store.

Some also seemed to sneer at the thought of having another bar to serve the university crowd that mainly populates the area.

One of these people was Kristina Jovanovic who was passing by the restaurant. She is anticipating the yells and hollers from a rowdy hockey crowd.

“It’s just going to be another source of noise in the area and I don’t think the patio will help the cause.”

Eisen counters these concerns with a simple statement:
“We will deal with whatever the regulations and legislations are but we do want people to enjoy their wings and salads out on the patio.”

He was quick to move away from the topic by differing to the food itself which is “always fresh and never frozen,” which has been Puck ‘n Wings motto from the beginning.

“We don’t just have wings either. We have the salads for the fat guys, the girls, and the health conscious also available in 50 flavours.”

Eisen seemed excited for the grand opening of the newest Puck ‘n Wings location which is expected to open sometime in early October for the Leafs ‘ home opener against Montreal.

For everyone else in the Annex, this upcoming hockey season won’t only bring excitement from the ice, but from the battle of wing shops from three contenders on the same block.

Let the face-off begin.

================
I believe the two comments below are actually from people in association with Wing Shop 366. Both are associated to Wing Shop's blog and one of the comments is a verbatim quote from one of these blogs. I am only pointing this out to maintain the veracity of my review.

The Bong and Winding Road

2009-09-10T10:22:00.000-07:00

(As it appeared as the cover story for Crave Magazine)

The busy arterial road under the Gardener Expressway has fallen silent as the night draws toward the wee hours of the morning. A sparse procession of cars files down the boulevard. Brake lights suddenly glow as a battalion of police cars comes into sight. Neon pylons create a landing strip, guiding vehicles into the clutches of the R.I.D.E program. Within seconds, each car will be stopped next to a police officer.

“How are you doing tonight, Sir?” Flashlight pressed against the side of his head, the constable leans down with his face nearly in the driver-side window. Eyes and flashlight drill into the face of a young man in a black Mazda 3. “Have you had any alcohol to drink tonight?” He peers harder, his face a strange quilt of reflected light: orange from the street lamps, overlaid with spatters of blue and red from flashing police lights. A short pause, then the next question. “Have you done anything else tonight that would impair your judgment behind the wheel?”

You haven’t heard that last question yet, but soon you will.

We’re all familiar with the toll from drunk driving across Canada. Seventy-two thousand people are injured or killed annually. The equivalent of three and a half sold out Toronto Maple Leafs games at the nearby Air Canada Centre. Picture them crawling away from their seats with blood pouring down their faces, broken limbs crunching as they limp, or lying unconscious on stretchers, or even consigned to a cavalcade of gurneys draped with body bags.

With the number of motorists growing, no effort is spared to make them aware of the repercussions for driving while under the influence. But the expression “impaired driving”, always assumed to mean drunk driving, is in its infancy stages and is still evolving. It will soon mean any narcotic that compromises a driver’s ability to operate a vehicle.

On July second of 2008, the criminal code was amended. Prime Minister Stephen Harper proclaimed from a podium that police officers will now conduct road side sobriety tests for drugs as well as alcohol. In a word, smokers and tokers will be tested and charged the same way as a drunk driver.

Toronto Police Officer Paul Bainard is an avid student of Bill C-32. He works for the traffic services unit and takes great pride in bringing sobriety to the streets of Toronto. “It (was) not unusual for us on the R.I.D.E program to have a guy roll down his window and just be knocked over by the smell of dope. At that point, everything that we wanted to do was (forbidden because) there was no law against it.” The anti-drug animus in his voice would scare the Tylenol out of the mouth of a driver with a headache. “If you were using marijuana it was (a) grey area where you get a pass,” he said.

Now it’s not. With the law enacted, it’s time for enforcement. “We’re trying to dispel the myth that marijuana and its sister drugs are blameless and safe to drive with,” explains Bainard.

The trick is setting a standard. How do you measure highness?

Bill C-32 allows officers to conduct Standardized Field Sobriety Tests or SFST’s for short. These are one-leg stands, horizontal eye movement and walking tests which will help officers decipher whether someone is high on drugs. If the testing does not show anything, the officer will be able to spend some time with the suspect and see if they do anything suspicious or strange. With the amendment to the code, the government has also pledged to train more Drug Recognition Experts. The acronym-happy police are already calling them D.R.E’s. They will spot the effects of marijuana, ecstasy and cocaine by observing mannerisms.

The iconic Mother’s Against Drunk Driving group has widened its scope to incorporate drugs into their campaigns. Caroline Swinson, is the chair of the national board has been with the group for over 15 years. “Our mission statement is to stop impaired driving and to support the victims of a violent crime,” she says. Many understand M.A.D.D as an organization focused on spreading awareness about drunk driving. But “about three or four years ago we changed the message to specifically include the fact that drug-use and drug driving was getting to be more prevalent“.

M.A.D.D. will reach over 600,000 high school students in the country this year. Given M.A.D.D.’s close ties with the police, would it be safe to say that R.I.D.E spot checks will be more youth focused as well?

(Sergeant Brian Bowman at a R.I.D.E spot check)

“No. But…no,” reluctantly answers Sergeant Brian Bowman of the Toronto Police Traffic Services Unit. Bowman stands 6’2’’ under his hat and has a mustache that would weigh down an average man’s lip. Some nights, Bowman is in charge of the RIDE program and chooses the locations. To the authority of his uniform he adds the magnitude of a small Sherman tank. He explains that it’s not so much that cops target kids. More that they’re hard to miss. “Youth don’t have the experience of (intoxicants) so they display indications of consuming alcohol or drugs.”

(Taking the test)

The real problem is that a cop can’t tell the difference between the legal drugs and the illegal ones. Let’s say it’s allergy season. Nothing like a little Visine to sooth those burning red eyes. After administering it, you and your glossy eyes go out for a short drive to take care of some errands. The Visine is on the passenger seat. Because it’s mom’s car, there’s also an air freshener.

So your car smells like Hawaiian Breeze and your eyes are glazed like a German cake. Could look suspicious to some. While driving, you spot flashing lights. An accident? But no. It’s a RIDE program. You stop and look upwards into the officer’s face. Your eyes are still a bit red and very watery and your car smells fantastic. Will the Police Officer think that’s suspicious?

“If an officer sees Visine, then it’s a logical question. Will that guarantee you that you’re going to be hooked into the (sobriety tests)? No. The officer still has to have reasonable belief that something in your system is affecting the way you drive,” says Sergeant Bainard.

An officer will look for two things: odour, and emission. Sergeant Bainard then goes into his questioning routine. “Had anything to drink tonight? Do I smell marijuana in the car? Sort of the same idea. Where were you? What were you doing? What have you got, what have you had? If you answer positive, then the officer can have reasonable suspicion that you have substance in your body.”

Fear not, youth of Canada. The police want you safe at home., not in the slammer. And not only you. Old people are also doing drugs, though not necessarily the same ones.

“There are far more people driving impaired (from) prescription drugs than the average person out there understands. They can be illegal (or) legal drugs,” chimes in Swinson during her anti-drug spiel.

Bainard agrees. “Pain killers for arthritis and those sorts of things, the doctor says take one every day.” But people may take more. This abuse can sometimes skew the senior’s reaction time – already pretty slow. (ha) Even if you did it innocently, the police will not cut you slack. “A drug is a drug,” says Bainard.

Impaired driving may seem like a faceless crime: crime that officers chase when they have nothing better to do. That was the attitude of a gentleman charged with impaired driving on November 8th. While waiting for the ticket his leather jacket and greasy hair kept him warm. When his new car (a taxi) arrived, he and his cologne-drenched friends climbed in, he yelled to Sergeant Bowman to go out and catch the “real criminals.” The grease ball didn’t realize he was one impaired moment away from killing another young person on their way home from work, or mutilating a mother and child.

It was then that Sergeant Bowman revealed the true nature of a police officer. He didn’t stop the cab and lecture the young driver. Instead he spoke thoughtfully about the impaired injuries he has seen, including the young man on the Gardiner who “was partially ejected from his vehicle and had half his face scraped off.”

On the way to the station he quietly observed that police are “not just a bunch of thugs out there because there is no other job we can do and it gives us a chance to boss people around.” He explains “the officers out here tonight believe in what they are doing. They don’t stand out in the cold for the money.”

You may be the worlds most amazing parallel parker and maybe you can get from Humber College to downtown Toronto in 20 minutes. Add drugs or alcohol and your judgment becomes skewed. If you don’t believe it, consider the people who won’t see a family member or friend because somebody thought a toke would improve their night out.

Don’t become a victim of Bill C-32. If you are impaired; take a cab or stay where you are. You may not receive a thank you for doing so, but it is much more rewarding than having to explain to your loved ones that you killed or injured someone because you just couldn’t say no to an inebriating substance.

A Special thank you to the Traffic Services Dept. who allowed me to ride-a-long with them and put up with my relentless questions and photo taking for 10 hours.

Digging up the facts about green funerals

2009-09-03T17:33:00.001-07:00

“It comes to the point where how many bodies can you actually store in boxes in a field,” said Scott Kupi. Although the quote may seem strange and conjure up the sense of a murderer talking about his mass grave, Scott is actually talking about his views on traditional funerals which, “are just way too old fashion.” You may also be picturing Scott as an older man, conveying his frustrations about an imminent death. At the age of 21 however, Scott is hopefully far of from his departure from the living world. He believes though, it is never too late to begin thinking about how he can carry on his environmentally conscious way of living, even when he is not alive.

Scott has been environmentally aware throughout much of his life. He keeps his
morning showers short, never takes a plastic bag from a store when making a purchase,
will rescue litter from the ground and dispose of it properly, and has decked out his home and office with energy efficient light bulbs. There are many people like Scott, however he has taken green approach one step further. Scott has even started thinking about being buried in a biodegradable coffin. “Sure a regular casket looks nice, but what good is it? You spend all that money and before you know it, the casket is buried underground to rot away and pollute the soil with varnishes and lacquers,” he said. Although still in their early stages in Canada, the new trend of green funerals has already began sweeping through the United Kingdom.

There are many different options when it comes to an environmentally friendly funeral ceremony. Each type ranges in the amount of steps being taken to ensure the burial or cremation has very little effect on the environment. The basic green funeral will be similar to a traditional funeral, yet a coffin made from all natural materials will be used. This allows the coffin to easily decompose in the soil instead of having the harmful lacquers and finishes found in most caskets. Even the inside bedding of an environmentally sound coffin is created, generally from 100% cotton to leave little or no remains when the body and coffin decompose. These coffins have been created to be competitive in the pricing market with little or no mark-up from a regular casket and will cost anywhere from $300-$2000. “People think these coffins will not look as nice, but in some cases they may look even nicer than a regular casket,” said Daniela Bernardyn, an associate at the Casket Store in Toronto. She has been selling caskets for over ten years and although there hasn’t been too many people asking about them at the moment, she feels this will eventually change. “We don’t offer too much right now, but there are different types available.” A green funeral’s cost will not exceed the price of a regular funeral. The only real difference comes in the type of casket used. The family then has the ability to spend as much as they want on receptions or other burial arrangements.

The highest degree of a green funeral will have a coffin resembling only an elongated cardboard box and is the cheapest type of green coffin. There is also a Kent Casket which is made from unfinished pine and uses rope handles which biodegrade much easier and quicker than metal handles. The newest and definitely most unique type of environmentally sound casket is the eco-pod. It emulates something similar to a small Egyptian sarcophagus. They are lightweight and come in a number of colours and patterns with an outer shell made from 100% recycled paper which won’t pollute the earths atmosphere in anyway. Two handles are attached to the side of the coffin and are nothing more than pieces of rope.

For someone that would like to leave no footprint on the world when they leave will usually request to be buried with no markings. This means the body will be buried without a headstone. The visitors will usually use a tree or another natural land mark to find the place where the remains are buried. This can only be done on plots of land dedicated to green funerals which may be lacking in the country at the moment, but are not far off from becoming a common practice.

There are even options to have a green funeral with a cremation. In Canada alone approximately 35% of the deceased are cremated. Specific rates across the map range from a 15% cremation rate in Prince Edward Island to a 90% rate in British Columbia. If there is one person that would have a plethora of information concerning these rates and funerals in general, it would be Doug Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy is currently the Director of Operations for Turner-Porter Funeral Homes Limited. “The whole concept of green funerals is in it’s relative infancy. It started about 1985, 1990, when there was a concern when a cremation occurred, what was being released into the atmosphere.” While cremations will take up less space than a casket and less of a threat to the soil, there is still the concern of the toxic material being released into the atmosphere. When a person is cremated, the body is not the only thing being burned. The body being cremated will be placed in a combustible container which has raised concerns as to what the container is made of and what it emits when burned. Whether it is cardboard or wood held together with glue, it is giving off some toxins not to mention the energy and fuels it takes to power the ovens. Mr. Kennedy, also the past president of the of Ontario Funeral Services Association for Funeral Homes said “that has given momentum to a green cremation as well where we don’t use smoke stacks and fire, but we can actually use an alkaline hydrolysis to reduce the remains to its basic elements.”

So whether green funeral takes form as a burial or cremation, there are ways a person can ensure they will not be harming the environment when they bid farewell to the living world. Although Doug has not seen too many green funerals in his career, he does feel they will become popular among the public. “I can see in the next 10 years there will be green cremation and green burials. There is an interest in it, both from the public perspective and certainly from those in the profession to provide that and as soon as the logistics of it are worked out, I don’t see what would prevent it.”

Nick Larter, also in the funeral industry as a manager at Sherrin Funeral Homes agrees with Mr. Kennedy when he speaks of the environmentally friendly funerals becoming more popular. “Right now, in 2008, I don’t know, it would probably take another 10 years,” said Mr. Larter. “We have people that want to have environmentally friendly funerals and they are likely to purchase caskets and containers that don’t have the polishes and lacquers on them and less metal. The decomposition would then be as natural as possible without any inhibiting aids.” He continued by saying “I do believe down the road there will probably will be more of a call for a green funeral only because of the fact that people are becoming more environmentally astute.”
It seems as if Scott may be one of the few right now that have given any thought as to ways to preserve the earth even when he leaves. “The earth has given me so much. It’s only fair that I give back to it.” As of now, he will not have too many options to choose a green cemetery. Currently, the only one is Canada is in Guelph. This cemetery gives the deceased a chance to be buried in a biodegradable coffin and buried in an unmarked piece of land.

If the predictions by Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Larter are accurate however, Scott will have many more options for a green burial in the future. “I think it may make it easier for families knowing that their loved one is giving back to the planet. Death is a difficult thing to deal with and any positive spin on it can make it easier to accept,” said Scott with an encouraging smile.

Kermit the Frog said it best while performing his song, “It’s Not Easy Being Green.” The context Kermit spoke about being green was more about him being unique to the world around him rather than the more predominant term of being environmentally green. There are many that find living an environmentally conscious lifestyle to be a chore while others are proud to live and protect the environment. Having a green funeral is neither a chore, nor is it more expensive than a traditional funeral. It is a way to thank the planet for many years of residence and to leave an eco-friendly place for our predecessors. According to the Natural Burial Association, an ecologically friendly burial is a way to allow “people who have loved nature to rest in nature. And those who have fought to help save the earth's health can know that their deaths are helping to preserve and create an ecological oasis.”

If having a green funeral is an avenue you would consider for yourself, it is important to relay your wishes to you loved ones so they can make the necessary arrangements. Funeral directors will also have information on these types of burials including all the options that are available to those that wish to be buried in an environmentally friendly setting.

Restaurant Review: Wing Shop 366

2009-09-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

I was originally not going mention the place I am about to review in the title of this article or mention it within the article. I was going to write this by merely referring to a new burger joint along Bloor St. I think, however, I would be doing a disservice to all the other reputable burger places scattered along the Annex neighbourhood. And this even goes out to Burger King near Bathurst St. which is not homegrown or a Ma and Pa type of place which I am so fond of but it does a hell of a lot better than the Wing Shop 366 does.

Everything right from the get go of my visit wasn’t right. Upon a look from the outside, you might think to yourself how nice it looks but how it looks much too nice to not be one of those places that was just put in the wrong spot at the wrong time and whose lease will go in a matter of weeks.

A walk-by with no intention of going into the Wing Shop 366 followed by a sudden urge to take a sharp turn to the right brought me into the heart of this wing palace to take them up on their offer of a veggie burger , fries, and a drink for only $5.98 which was boasting on their sign out front.

I’ve been a vegetarian for four years and although I wouldn’t call myself a veggie burger connoisseur, I would like to think I have tried enough of them to know what constitutes a good burger. And I don’t mean the one that has “actual vegetable chunks”, but one that legitimately tastes delicious.

After regaining my composure from my sharp turn into the Wing Shop, I plopped myself on the counter to receive some of that ‘we’re new to the neighbourhood and want your regular business‘ cheer. Instead I was greeted by a young girl surprised to see me as she walked out of a back room after I stood there for a good 35 seconds. Not that 35 seconds is a long time, but If I went to Burger King I would already have fries on my tray, four packets of ketchup and tiny packets of salt, awaiting the foil-wrapped veggie burger of chewiness to land upon its surface. Time isn’t everything when it comes to food, but at this moment I realized it plays quite role in setting up my pallet for the meal. The thing that really startled me was the guy in the back room that saw me walk in. He sat behind a wall in the kitchen…and awaited his co-workers return. No gesture of ‘I am going to make you food in a second and can’t wait,’ or the ‘we’re new to the neighbourhood and want your business’ charm.

The chemistry between the two employees presented something unsettling. They didn’t speak to each other while my burger cooked on the “halal and veggie burger only” side of the grill (as labeled), they uttered not a word.. He hovered over my sizzling mound of soy while she prepared the store bought fries and read a book. The fries were done and on my tray within minutes while another few minutes passed until my burger was done. She THEN took it upon herself to dress my bun (that sounds weird) with an assortment of toppings in different style containers including mayonnaise which is awesome.

The interaction with the female employee was pleasant but seemed forced and bothersome to her. And I don’t know about that other guy that only comes out to prepare food. So there I am sitting at my table all alone in the confines of the restaurant with a minuscule number of fries, water, and what appears to be a tantalizing veggie burger. The fries weren’t plentiful especially considering it was in a serving tray that could have housed more fries that WERE in fact prepared and just sitting in the metal drying rack for the literally zero amount of other people in the restaurant. They weren’t that bad though considering they were obviously store bought. Ok, maybe the fries were actually quite spectacular, but the ketchup to sooth their greasy heat was not that easy to come by. The ketchup comes to the patrons in the form of a large pump with absolutely no suction. Getting ketchup out of the nozzle was not as easy as it should have been. Do I pull up on the white handle to get more ketchup out? Nope, that didn’t work…ahh Phucket (it’s a province in Thailand). I will just do with what I had (which was already a fair amount of ketchup, I just really like condiments).

As shoddy as my experience sounds, I was surprised to see that this food establishment offered a large flat screen television, free wi-fi service and a website that allows you to order from home and get delivery. I wonder what the delivery person is like…
I don’t eat wings but there seemed to be a plethora of flavours to choose from. Even more than I knew existed. I am familiar with wing classics such as the hot, mild, and honey garlic flavours but who knew you could get parmesan, lemon pepper or tex-mex wings along with over two dozen other unique flavours.

This is not to mention the salads, the chicken bites, the garlic bread…plenty of options. And don’t think time wanes on these items. Wing Shop 366 is open late! Seriously, who wants garlic bread at 4am on Friday morning? I’ve been there.
I’ll admit my bad experience could be because I don’t fall within their carnivorous target market. But I still expected more from an infantile food establishment. And I realize many of the things I touched upon may come off as knit-picky, but these are the things that go through my mind and the mind of others (some not so vocal as myself) when dining at the Wing Shop 366. And so concludes by review of one of the newest food establishments in the Annex which has seen at least one customer come and go to never look back. But as Lavar Burton once said following the weekly broadcast of Reading Rainbow…don’t take my word for it.

(In no way is this review partnered or approved by Lavar Burton or any of his holdings. )

Restaurant Review: FRESH

2009-08-06T17:38:00.002-07:00

If you’re the type of person that is not satisfied unless your meal comes complete with a hunk of oozing meat, keep moving…nothing to see here.

The hustle and bustle in anyone of the three Fresh locations throughout the city of Toronto can make even the most die-hard carnivore believe that their meat frenzied world could soon be taken over by vegetarians/vegans/lacto-ovo's or whatever you choose to call the herbivores that range in the confines of these restaurants.

At first glance, the atmosphere gives of a metropolis deli-style vibe. Bells signal waiters to the back to grab plates of food, the familiar rumble of conversations in a busy restaurant is there but the conversations from adjacent tables often break the mold of what you might expect to eavesdrop in any other restaurant. The close proximity of tables allows the hipster clientele conversations to break their table boundaries and spill onto the group next to them creating a fruit salad medley of topics ranging from whose hemp bracelet smells the best or who has gone the longest without eating from a package that states “may have come in contact with milk or dairy products.”

Ok. So maybe I am “eggs”haturating, but I tell no lie when I say these restaurants make even the most malnourished vegan feel like a clumsy nitwit trying to navigate through a mine field.

Once at the table and shoulder to shoulder with the table next to you, a server will appear. The servers at Fresh are quick to explain what a grass root shot is and how it can change your life or chat about the tattoos on their arms…and hands…and chest…and how they can almost stick a banana through their stretched ear. They are au courant though which adds a sense of credibility to what this restaurant truly serves up which is more than just a vegetarian meal. They serve up a vegetarian experience that includes the sometimes fun-to-gawk-at visitors complete with dreadlocks, weird clothes that I didn't even know existed and a plethora of Converse shoes tapping under the tiny tables.

Originally titled Juice for Life, Fresh has three locations ranging from the heart of downtown Toronto to the outskirts of the Annex on Bloor to the West end of Queen Street. Each restaurant carries the same menu and selections and are presented in much of the same way surrendering a familiar taste no matter what location you dine at.

The narrow spaces that these restaurants find themselves in is sometimes a bit congested. Perhaps it fits those that frequent Fresh but the tight tables are a little disconcerning. The tables fit the meatless meals, but don’t encourage a private encounter with a dining partner. The overall look of the restaurant is trendy to say the least. Chandeliers shed light on the miscellaneous wallpapers that bleed into each other on the walls.

The menu is full of items from burritos to meatless burgers, salads to sweet potato fries. It’s not hard to find something on the menu no matter how much meat you may consume. The items on the menu may seem hard to digest but a quick glance at your plate will make your eyebrows raise and think to yourself, “if I could make this, I would have been a vegetarian for years.”

A popular choice among the frequent Fresher’s would be the sweet potato fries. The narrow cut potatoes have a bit of a healthy twang to them. Almost a little too sweet to be true, these fries are served up with a cup of vegan mayonnaise that would have Mr. Hellman tossing in his grave if he knew that mayonnaise so delicious could be made without eggs.

The wraps are meatless but are the type of vegetarian wrap you would order even if you would bite into the rib cage of a cow that tried to escape your K-9 teeth grip. There is something that manages to call out to even the most stubborn people that think a meatless meal is like a Facebook profile without pictures…what’s the point?

To wash all those vegetables down, be brave and try a smoothie-type drink blended from fruits and veggies. They are actually not that bad. And don't take my word for it; the adoration for this beverage was shared by my non vegetarian counterpart.

Whether it’s a quick bite you are after, which are available at the counter without having to spend to much time being bumped around by those entering or exiting the restaurant or a sit down herbivore charge, Fresh hits the nail on the head for serving up some of the most tantalizing meat-free meals. If you can over come the often eccentric crowd that fills the seats of Fresh, you are in for some of the finest vegetarian cuisine in the city.

If you leave this restaurant feeling bloated or full, you did it wrong. Fresh is a health oriented place that should leave you feeling energized and ready to run a marathon against the other lanky vegetarians that frequent this spot.

With a menu that won’t punch your wallet in it’s wallet face, it is definitely worth trying it once with the possibility of conversion to a herbivore lifestyle resulting in more frequent visits. (And if those frequent visits are in your peripherals, try the Fresh charge card, available at all Fresh outlets)

Two minutes for an irrational fear!

2009-08-06T16:58:00.000-07:00

I wasn’t always a malnourished vegetarian. I didn’t always consider my 30 minute walk to work an exercise episode. At one point in my life I even sweat on other occasions than waking up in the middle of the night and realizing I didn’t put my fan on.

I was a hockey player.

I along with a huge portion of the Canadian youth population would lace up out Tacks throw on our Bauer shoulder pads and protect our boy hood with a piece of thin plastic with ventilation holes.

At the novice house league level, there were three different types of players. (1) There were those players that had equipment that made them look disproportionate. Either their shoulder pads were too big or their shin pads were to skinny…something didn’t look right. They would score goals, but they weren’t going anywhere. (2) There were the players that kind of looked like Black Beauty in the first scene where Black Beauty was born. (If you aren’t familiar with the movie, just picture a newly born horse) Covered in a thin layer of bodily fluids, with legs that just weren’t suffice at holding up the body, these individuals were also not going anywhere in a hurry. (3) There were the players that were legitimately good hockey players whether they wanted to be there or not. Then there was me…

I was a good hockey player. Not much of a goal scorer, but a fancy skater with a wrist shot that I didn’t control, it controlled me. I worked my way through the ranks of house league until I landed a position on the Mount Hamilton Blues; a traveling team that represented a portion of Hamilton in regional and national tournaments. So why was I not an all time scorer, or why was I not on the front line of all the team attacks?

Paralysis.

I’m not paralyzed but I did have this strange fear of not being able to use the lower half of my body. I walked into the change room, but would I walk out? I stretched my legs before hockey games, but would I not need to stretch them afterwards? I don’t know where this fear came from. Possibly from my urge to stay away from violent situations. I don’t like seeing pain. I don’t like experiencing pain and if it wasn’t for my severe bouts with clumsiness, I would be scar free. Back to the ice…

I can remember walking out of the dressing room and being the accepting and laid back person I am would tell myself, “well this is it Brian, the last time you will walk on your own accord.” Who would be the one that would hit me? Would I see it coming? Would I follow the rest of the season from the bench? Would I give thumbs up to the slew of onlookers like a daredevil being carried out by his crew.

I was conservative on the ice, made some hits, scored some goals, got hit, but was never really injured other than a few pucks to the groin. Thank god for the piece of thin plastic with ventilation holes.

The way I see it, without suffering from the odd case of Limb phobia, (fear of losing a part of the body) I could have been “The Good One”. The player that was just really good at the game of hockey. I would have scored a couple of goals a season and I would have looked proportionate. Oh well, can’t dwell in the past.

I can say though I have grown out of my bout with limb phobia. I can’t remember the last time I really worried about loosing the ability to use my legs…or my feet for that matter. According to a section of the internet, the condition “may sound quite serious, but it isn’t so serious in the actual sense. It is just an irrational state of fear. Your phobia is a intense fear, which poses no real danger” (http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080818131437AAYignZ).

Where was the internet 10 years ago? Why am I only learning about the irrationality of my fear now. What a waste of a hockey career...

In the beginning...

2009-07-24T19:07:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Bri-Pod.

Clever name, isn't it? It's kind of reminiscent of Apple's MP3 device, the I-Pod, yet it incorporates my name into it.

Now that we're on the same page, it's time to begin. What exactly is the purpose of this Web Log? (or "blog" as it is so kindly referred to) Here is my mission statement:

To publish my thoughts, feelings, rants, and raves using a medium that isn't limited to 140 characters per post or that is restricted to using only my thumbs to type.

With that said, please enjoy what is to follow.