Monday, August 23, 2010

Sandals to work kind of guy


I gotta start getting prepared for the civ201 trip, I have boots, going to use my old reliable construction boots, got eye wear, I am sans eye wear, hardhat and the reflective vest…do we really need the latter? In retrospect I likely have ear protection, the state of it, that is another matter entirely.

So this weekend, con weekend. I wait ALL year for this. All year. I am volunteering again this year, and sure as hell I plan to abuse what small bit of power I am afforded. Not to mention the t-shirt (I only spell it like that as that is how it is autocorrected on MS Word) is balling and total gym wear. What is not to love? There will be some big changes this year, new venue being the most prominent. Not to mention presales are forecasting a crowd of greater than 60,000 people in attendance.

So, just today at work I finished this massive, and I mean massive thread on a popular forum about the TTC. It was a take on the age old topic starter “Ask a (insert noun) anything”. In this case the noun was TTC employee and asking away is what people did, 194 pages and approximately 3000 posts to be exact (irony). A fellow named Agram answered question after question giving his inside knowledge. He is a TTC mechanic and has worked for both the union and now holds a staff job.

I don’t know if you know this, I didn’t until some education but the TTC is roughly divided into three core units. The union comprises drivers (all flavors), cleaners/janitors, grounds keeping, painters, etc. Staff comprises the BULK (essentially a major issue) forepersons, supervisors, division and section chiefs, engineers, accountants/bookkeepers, bean counters…white collar jobs essentially and literally. The highest tier being the politicians, Commissioners and well David Miller’s lackey Adam Giambrone.

Essentially, you have a perfectly workable system which is strangled by politicians and bureaucracy. Now this is a union city, that is what Toronto is, and I hate that as much as the next guy. But I was naïve to place the blame squarely on the union, ATU 113, if memory serves. Their hands sure aren’t free of blood, but they are covered.

The union’s purpose is to safeguard the best interests of its members, that is why they pay ~20 dollars every week for union dues. You do the math. It is the union which regulates how much work an employee should/will have to do per shift and other details like this. This type of agreement is worked out between the union bosses and staff at contract drafting times. You know, those times when the union talks big, the management talks small, and in the end the union threatens a walk out and holds us ransom. Obviously we cannot afford the additional cost of declaring the TTC an essential service. /sarcasm.

Anyways, the politicians who answer to their corporate sponsors and campaign supports. Read: not the voters they apparently are elected to SERVE. They push on whatever hot-button onto the management which have to hawk it to the union, you know…after 13 advisory committees, three consulting groups and a city council meeting. Red tape.

On an unrelated note, if I read one more comment in the T star or on CBC news about how we should more like the MTR in Hong Kong, or this or that about NYC or Tokyo transit…well, I will be very upset. You cannot, CANNOT, compare a system which is in NYC’s case, 100% state funded or in the case of the MTR, a corporate enterprise with our system. Our system is funded massively by whatever is put in the fare box, and very very little municipal funding, forget about the province.

I could rant on, but alas, I am about to go home from work…lesson to be learned, as much as it pains me saying this , it is not all the unions fault for the TTC, the rest of Toronto (public sector), fuck ya…all union, but here, we have excessive management with top pressure from ill-advised and uneducated politicians.

Too many chiefs, not enough Indians I believe the saying goes…

Monday, August 16, 2010

Sittin in my livin room calm and collected


“Earth angel, Earth angel…will you be mine? My darling dear…love you all the time”

The one I adore…

So, on Saturday I sat through like 4.5 excruciating hours of The Assassination of Jessie James by the Coward Robert Ford. You know what? Screw the nay-sayers. I really enjoyed that film, a time piece? Yes, but a good ne at that. The long drawn out shots of pure silence, they create such a feeling of tension…I really felt buried under the weight of the emotions. I find myself asking, does he know? Does he not know? Obviously you know Jessie (by virtue of the title, SPOILERS) is killed. The destination is not important in this film, the journey is. What an intense journey follows. Whatever mish-mash of words I could comprise to describe the atmosphere would pale in comparison, if you have several hours one day, I recommend you to watch it yourself.

Another point I would like to raise is the scenery/sets, as it is a western piece you can expect horse ridding. Well what can I say; the landscapes are vast and engulfing. True to the times, people really did live in the middle of nowhere and the landscape does not hide this. You get these wide open shots of the Great American country. You feel small and belittled. Jessie James a notorious outlaw known by the thousands seems small and insignificant when shown in the vast expanse of some of the shots. Perhaps this is a stab at humility or social commentary by the director? I don’t know, I am not a Doctor.

I have been getting back into the swing of running, did 3 km on Friday night, and boy oh boy has my cardio hit the ground. Even with all that cycling, I just guess it wasn’t enough, who would have thought less than two months could be so damaging to my lung capacity. Again, perhaps it was just a bad night, those do happen, but nonetheless, no one is giving it out. You have to take it.

You ever met someone and then lost contact? Just came to mind, I don’t know if I have ever written about this before and my way to lazy to go through and look, so whatever. You know, maybe there was a spark there or a connection and for one reason or another you just let it go…and you have no idea why. Oh why…who cares that there was several continents and a ocean or two separating you, and when you talk you weren’t even on the same calendar day. Should not have gone down this road, memories awash.

Oh well, you know I ain’t with this shit Lieutenant. Gotta break it off proper right? It has to be bumpin, I have to put the rap down, just like a clock, I tick and tock but I am never off.

Remember kids, don’t be someone’s punching bag, make them yours. Middle class gangsters right? Right.

Monday, August 9, 2010

I got a machinehead...better than the rest

You know that feeling when you go away on a vacation for trip somewhere and upon your return home everything feels so different? That feeling like you have been gone a lifetime and everything changed, everything went on without you. Your entire existence is really belittled as you realize your personal ‘world’ and within that, your local area and the people within it likely noticed the weather more than your presence or lack thereof.

Ya, that feeling.

I love that feeling, it breaks down that ego and really reminds you of the humility one should flaunt (ironically) day to day. I was fortunate enough to have this feeling this Saturday after returning from a shopping trip to New York State.

I haven’t had that feeling in a long time, sometimes it is nice, sometimes it is melancholy.

So, schedule update, I have all my courses now except for APS301, I am waitlisted for that, but I have been informed that I am awaiting Registrar’s approval, as it is a core course and I definitely should be in it. Not to mention, I am overcharged several hundred dollars…but that is a battle for Wednesday… not looking forward to that.

I started this with the intention of complaining about two of my friends in particular and their currently lifestyles. In a period of self-reflection I really don’t believe anything I say or write here will change a thing between me and them. In my mind the story and details have been told a million times, and some days it don’t come easy, some days it don’t come at all. In the end, certain people will choose to escape reality via weed or liquor. The escape is more important than their relationships.

Telling someone like them to stop, or cut back is like trying to put out a fire with gasoline.

Why would I want to see someone who would choose a plant over me?

Reminds me of a Green Day song:

Boxed up
All of her favorite things
Sold the rest at a rainy yard sale
Big plans and leaving friends and
A westbound sign
Weighed out
Her choices on a scale
Prevailing nothing made sense
Just transportation and a
Blank decision...

She's taking off
Taking off...
Taking off...
Taking off...

No time and no copping out
She's burning daylight and petrol
Blacked out the rearview mirror
Heading westward on
Strung out
On confusion road
And ten minute nervous breakdowns
Xanex a beer for thought
And she determined...

She's taking off
Taking off...
Taking off...
Taking off...

Is it salvation?
Or an escape from discontent?
Will she find her name
In the California cement?
Punched out of the grind
That punched her one too many times...
Is tragedy 2000 miles away?

She's taking off
Taking off...
Taking off...
Taking off...

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


…I’m a bad man, because I don’t even miss her.

People say I work too hard, well that may be. But if you aren’t down with that, then fuck you. Anyways, start the day with a friendly voice, a companion unobtrusive, as my man Geddy says.

So it has been a week and the progress with my course schedule is nowhere. Well I shouldn’t say that, they have actually enrolled me in first year civil engineering. So I guess, my displacement is negative, look on the bright side, I can go back next year and kill those 1T4’s, piece of cake right? Well half a piece.

I am going to the United States this weekend, hoping for some mad deals to be had. Mad deals. World Gone Crazy deals, the nature of deals where you’d consider selling an organ, or trading in a loved one just to get the object of desire…the kind of deals where you awake one night in the not-so-distant-future in a cold sweat, in your just awoken state of mind, you search for reasoning and logic to deduce whether those deals were a product of you dream, or a tangible expression of commerce.

Remember kids, money is something which can be exchanged for goods or services. In my case, I never have enough of it. Read: lacking 4000 spare dollars to blow on an Omega Speedmaster, but I digress complaining is for a select breed of people, called women. Zing!

So, here is my plan, thus far I have downloaded three textbooks, CME 210, 270, 263. I also may have located the textbook for CIV280. I now have some PDFs for these textbooks. My plan is to take these via a USB key to a print shop and have them printed, If I can get it for 2 or 3 cents a page, I’m looking at some mad savings.

At 3 cents a page, if I print 2000 pages, I’m looking at 60 dollars. Not bad, not bad at all. At 3000 pages, looking at what, 101 dollars some change, plus any upload fee, hopefully negligible at best. Much research is required…much work ahead. Education isn’t free, it should be, but this is Canada, remember, such a great place. That is to say, if you can afford it.

I had this conversation with someone recently, but I’ll put it in writing, makes it official. If you aren’t good at anything, you are useless. The harsh reality is that there are far too many mediocre or average people. You have to get up everyday, bleed excellence, ooze confidence, be all that you can be, and aspire to greatness.

…I guess you just have to wake up as David King, zing.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

21

Everything feels just a little heavier and a little harder today.