Good News for People Who Love Bad News

This morning I'm reminded of an album title from alternative band Modest Mouse, their 2004 recording (yes it's been that long), "Good News for People Who Love Bad News".

Did you know that CBC.ca actually features a page dedicated to Good News Only? Yep they do. Headline snips like "- Car sales increase in July: New vehicle sales climbed 5.3 per cent, to 126,665 units, in July compared to the same month in 2008, Statistics Canada revealed Tuesday. Led by increases in Ontario, sales of both passenger cars and trucks were up". So this means that CBC employs a department that has to initiate and maintain this portion of their site. These folks go through their news feeds, sort them and feature them as part of the Good News Section. Cool eh?

Besides the excitement this morning of the Olympic Flambe (yes, I call it flambe - think a lit baked Alaska dessert) arriving in Canada - Victoria, there are apparently hoards of negative, unemployed losers getting ready to not only protest, but literally aiming to attack torch-bearers and extinguish the flame. Huh? Unbelievable.

I wonder why protestors don't focus on something that they can make a positive difference with, instead just destructive measures. For God sakes - go serve food at a downtown Eastside shelter, volunteer with community policing, be a Big Brother or Big Sister - but please, don't be a big fat loser and try to fumble an upstanding citizen as they take part in something very exciting and positive. I will say this, our community is demonstrating the best and now I feel on board with it - "I believe".

Beginning today, the Olympic torch will travel not only through BC, but across the whole of Canada, the world's second largest country. It is in fact taking its longest journey ever. We will see it pass through our West Vancouver community on February 11, 2010 and the process of selecting citizens to be a Torchbearer is a great deal of work, all of which is undertaken by people who take a great deal of pride in their jobs. This people, is a good thing. This is - Good News. So, stop moping around and see what exciting energy is about to hit the deck.

And on this Friday morning, tongue-in-cheek, I leave you with some Modest Mouse, from the esteemed album noted above....

Saturday's To Do

monday's list., originally uploaded by sfgirlbybay.

I gotta keep track of a a few things today while the sun is streaming in and the Fall chill is in the air.
Chris is moving today. I'll let the guys do the heavy lifting - since I'm more the type to help him set up his kitchen and unpack dishes or hang pictures and rearrange the furniture.

I'm on my way to Soda to get my lid done, another 200 quid, then I HAVE to find the frame for the certificate being presented to Gordon Smith at Monday night's Council Meeting. Not too much pressure?!

At 4pm I'll jet over to the Ambleside fields for Federal infrastructure funding announcement with the District. Then wrap a gift and out with neighbours to a real house-warming gathering for ex-Georgian Manor residents. I'm excited to see their new house since when you live in a condo for so long you develop serious house envy. I'm thrilled for them, just as I'm happy for my brother getting into a new place - a work project actually.

Tomorrow I'll drop him off some fall flower pot for the front porch - maybe a pumpkin too. Gotta leave the blogger site now. Procrastination begins at home.

Writer, Blogger, Decorator, Morrissey Devotee (for Hire)

Back in 2007 when I first typed out a layout for some personal calling cards, I was at work with Marni and Aubrey, sitting in Cube-de-ville. At the time I struggled with titles - my "designations" as it were. Seemed all the little droids at work were B.Comms and I had nothing that important - thus my position in Cube-de-ville. I typed it out on the screen, the things that I felt I truly was. The last one, Morrissey Devotee, was sort of a laugh, but it was certainly true. Marni and Aubrey came over to the screen and enthusiastically urged me to keep the "Morrissey Devotee", Aubrey staunchly saying "But that's who you are! If people don't get it, who cares!". So off the order went to MOO Cards and a few weeks later the darn things showed up and I was thrilled. That was a clever conclusion. That last designation after Decorator, sparks a smile and a chuckle from those in the know, let me tell you. I packed my little Moo cards into a business card holder everywhere I went. I wrote articles for the North Shore News whenever I was given the opportunity from Mr. Goodman, I blogged, I decorated my mom's cottage in Merritt and swooned over other interiors on a daily basis, I listened to Morrissey. I didn't do any of these things professionally - except perhaps the North Shore News articles - that was professional but it didn't replace my job at ParkLane Homes.

Today is January the 8th. In history, this is a VERY interesting day. The first thing that comes to my mind every January 8th is of course, the birthday anniversary of Elvis Presley and David Bowie. As far as events in history which took place on the 8th day of the year, in 1790 the very first State of the Union Address, given by President George Washington in New York City. Also on January 8th, 1835 the United States of America's national debt is 0 for the first and only time. Today in 2009 boy is that ever the opposite. In fact the U.S. National Debt Clock has a number as crazy as $10,644,416,756,123.32 - yeah, don't forget that .32 cents boys. It's not that much brighter here in the Great White North where over 90% of Canadians believe Canada is in a recession and 68% expect the country's employment situation to worsen.

Well, yesterday morning on the 20th floor of Bentall Centre Tower 4, it did worsen for 14 full time employees. ParkLane Homes delivered the news to the various departments around 11 AM. I was one of those employees. While ParkLane has managed to hire and maintain large salaried managers and "VP"s in the last three months, they have decided that the business plan will include having more chiefs than indians. Interesting times indeed.

Skimming off employees from the lower end of the salary scale is a convenience to maneuver blame to the failing real estate economy in Vancouver, however, this is hardly the full story for many real estate developers who have packed themselves to the gills with high-salaried, exorbitant bonus-taking managers. Sadly the story will continue a few further chapters towards eleven as they find themselves occupying their closed-door offices with little to do but play online solitaire games in between fielding difficult customer service related calls.

Anyways, knowing that the place I called home for five years is nothing more than a mirage today, I'm sure of one thing, out of this five-year deal I have gotten some amazing soul sisters in my life. Real life, authentic, beautiful, unique, talented, caring women. Aubrey, Lianne, Marni, Rossi - you absolutely own my heart. Thank you. Gina, Marnie S, you are stalwarts of a mirage that was pretty fabulous place in its day - we wouldn't have wanted to go there had it not been for you two. The most gorgeous sales gals this side of the Mississippi - Amber, Dana, Kimberlie, Natasha, Rebecca and dear Tara - they don't make'em any more beautiful inside and out! Outside non-Parklaners include dearest Anita Schmitt, an amazing woman with class, determination, capabilities beyond the every day in this business. Amanda Gibbs, excruciatingly brilliant and inspiring and my 10-20 sister. Judy Williams, skillful, accomplished, a sense of humor and a sense of human - rare commodity in the legal realm. The two "old-timers" we saw whisked away from the circus of real estate, Brian Tweed and Chad Hodson, thank you for your love and belief and daily support and enthusiasm. Gems.


This morning I am free, breathing a little deeper, have a little more self respect and a lot more hope. This morning I understand what it was all about.  And no, that new regime couldn't break our hearts.

The Beach House at Dundarave Pier...

was "the shits" - thank you Marni for bringing back that term. Don't be fooled by its gorgeous location and upscale, contemporary interior. Make no mistake - they have no idea what they are doing.

Dad wanted to go for a nice dinner, dress up, you know, old school. Fine. So he suggested going "to a real nice place", making reservations at The Beach House in West Vancouver. Our table for two was at the window but being that it was dark out, it doesn't make any difference.

The focal point of the interior renovation is of an overbearing bar where bleak and ill conceived interpretations of cocktails are massacred before being left at dining tables. Garry ordered his usual, classic gin martini and I ordered "a vodka martini with a twist", to which our middle-aged, bearded waiter of Middle-Eastern decent replied "straight up?". This caught me off guard, being in a restaurant where entree's start at $35 a plate, wasn't a Martini a Martini? Surely it didn't suggest a frozen blended slurpee drink as it might mean at say, The Red Robin. "Yes straight up, with a twist". And then there was his assumption that it be "Grey Goose", to which I replied, "No, Stoli is fine. With a twist". (Grey Goose is totally overrated if you ask me).   The waiter asked straight up again. Yeah, straight up - I'm ordering a Martini dude, please don't have your twenty-two year old bartender cracking ice up for me on this one.  Also, being that you're a waiter in a high-end restaurant in West Vancouver where the average income is $200K and the average age is 55+, wouldn't a martini be a regular ordered item? Just putting it out there. 

So how did Dad's Bombay Gin Martini and my Stoli Martini arrive? Let's start with Dad's: Unchilled but wet glass of watered down Gin and one lousy pit-in olive. Mine: unchilled glass with one lousy pit-in olive - remember I asked for a twist - twice. Whatever, let's move on.

No input with respect to our menu inquiries - in fact, when I asked about the braised short ribs, he said they were served on a plate - OMG. Was this for real? So we made our decisions up rather quickly and dad squabbled down his "substandard" martini, while making the comment to me, "yours can't be any good either", but I'm a little bit more at ease - since most of my dining is at Earl's, Browns or Pasparos. It's just a drink - but I would have rather getting the drink I ordered.

Shortly after Dad tried to get the attention of our waiter as he milled about with his back to us - dad actually tapped him on the arm - I don't think he should have done - the guy practically jumped.  Dad pushed the half drank glass away and told him it was substandard and he'd like a scotch and soda.  The waiter fussed about it for a second, implying he'd make it right and get another one - like you want another order of something they clearly can't get right?  Then the guy asked what kind of scotch and whether dad wanted the soda on the side - yes of course you want the soda on the side!  That should just be standard practice in a restaurant of that so-called calibre. But how do you think  it arrived.  Blended together, with dad asking didn't you say with the soda on the side?  Oh God, this is turning into a dubious night.  Dad's annoyance was getting to a level where it should never be.  We hadn't even ate yet.  Great.  

Because our waiter never returned to our table to ask about wine selections (even though I had asked him to leave the wine list for dinner), our meals had arrived, brought by a different server, so I ordered a glass of the Malbec - only ordering a glass because the air had left the balloon and I just wanted it to all end.  My rib-eye steak was HUGE - a totally unexplainable size.  This would have been a detail I would have liked to have known when I asked about it.  Trust me, this thing was Porterhouse proportion - that was what was distinctive about this dish.  It came with thin sliced overcooked carrots, twenty frozen peas and twenty of those tasteless white beans - which I can't remember the name of.   A thoughtless entree at best.  Where is the dollop of mashed potato or rissoto? Though the steak was excellent, with a peppercorn sauce, but it could have fed two or three people.  Dad's braised ribs were served over a smearing of mashed potato and a stem of Chinese broccoli.   The ribs looked like they had been braising since last Thursday - but luckily dad likes his meat really well done so he never commented on it.  

Insult to Injury:  Desssert.  Dad ordered the cheesecake.  What the Beach House serves is a small round flat biscuit topped with a round "tart" of cheesecake - if the rib-eye was HUGE, the cheesecake was microscopic - with some berry coulee dripped on the plate.  My $10 blueberry tea was half an ounce of orange brandy (there's no way any Amaretto made its way into that glass) which was only ruined by their fancy tea.  We couldn't get out of there fast enough.  

Egad people.  Don't go to the Dunderave Beach House unless you're really drunk and have a lot of money to burn.