The Canadian Adventure

Part 11 - 10th September 1997

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Actually we're not, but they were, and the reruns are all over YTV (or one of the 40). Man, were they zany, in a way which must have been the last word in far-outishness at the time, and which looks like nothing more than four cerebrally challenged teenagers with bad hair to us today. Making TV programs must have been much easier then than now - all you had to do was say "Hey, let's have a toga party" and the world knew how hip and right-on you were. Now you don't even get a foot in the door unless you're a lizard that can turn into an atomic weapon launcher. And that's just for the pre-schoolers.

It’s "Back to school" time and the massed ranks of the Canadian advertising army is out in force. Like every other good Canadian annual event, it's a good excuse for a sale. The Bay's "famous(TM)" one day sale (famous because it was only last week that they had the last one, and the commercials are always irritating) is offering back to school ladies fashions, refrigerators and wall coverings (?) in a discount war that's like nothing we've ever seen (since last weekend...) and forgive me if I'm missing something here, but when I was going back to school all it meant was a nice new navy blue pullover and some sensible shoes. I'm fairly certain that wallcoverings weren't even in the running.

"Hey honey, it's back to school, how about some nice new golf clubs".

The Australia race is hotting up. We may actually come back here after the holiday (according to today's version of things), all part of some scheme to juggle business class fares and potential upgrades and air miles and a whole load of other corporate guff that escapes me for now. Eve is wrestling with the dilemma of 24 hours in a business class seat vs 24 hours in an economy seat with the company giving us the balance of the fare in cash. Personally the choice is pretty simple - I would gladly fly to the moon in a deckchair if it meant getting some spending money for when we get there. Not to mention paying the impending credit card bill for the holiday in October.

Mum has bought a Toyota Starlet. From what I recall these are the babies of the Toyota family, but quite smart. She must have picked the only car in the country that I can't quite visualise. Turning to the web I could find plenty of pictures of this year’s model, but very few of the one mum has bought. In the end I did discover one picture in, of all places, a site dedicated to the rental car fleet on the Isle of Tonga. I don’t even know where the Isle of Tonga is.

Over the weekend I had a fascinating conversation (with four Canadians) on the local reluctance to have toilets sound even remotely biological in function, but that's a whole other story. "Some of my Scottish friends keep talking about having a slash" said one, and there was general chortling at the audacity of the expressions "dump" and "number two".

Hmm, the creative muse seems to be doing her stuff tonight. Either that or it's just the whiskey talking and this is all a pile of pappe-kak, which I recall is the origin of the English poppycock, may be Dutch, and means soft shite. I like to further your educations with these insights...

The weekend (since Thursday) has been a somewhat intensive investigation into my own psyche courtesy of Landmark. I was doing their advanced course this time, having gone through the basic course in May. This one was a total blast once again, not to mention alarming, traumatic, uplifting and a whole load of other words not usually used to describe a weekend in a room with beige walls. If the first course was all about getting rid of all your past-based crud, this one was about removing the limits on your potential and creating the person you want to be. Sounds like a pile of gobshite I know, but it's good stuff. P.S. it's not a cult and I haven't shaved all my hair off. The whole course is structured on the group of fifty or so people being responsible for each other's well-being, attendance, understanding of the course, and I've had more hugs with people in the last five days than in my entire life.

And it's not every week you get to discuss the pro's and con's of being a stripper (with a stripper) or a funeral director (with a funeral director) or porn addict (with a teacher). I've made some great new friends.