Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Welcome to my new blog, necessary because I deleted my old one accidentially

Damn it all to hell:  I was up to 11,000 hits on my old blog and now it is toast, gone to the place where binary code goes to die.  I  have no idea how this happened, one minute I updated my email because doug@dougelniski.com isn't valid anymore and the next thing I know, no blog.

I feel somewhat safe knowing it is out there in the ionosphere someplace but it's still irritating and likely I can hire the skills necessary to recover it, or not.
My last blog was about the funny things Catholics do and while  a departure from my normal political rants it was, none the less quite popular. 
This week it's just about questions:
  • How could a guy as old as Vic Toews have a kid in Kindergarten? 
    • I have a grandson starting kindergarten, he's what 75?
  • Where did the senate scandal go?
    • Are the Feds now so transparent they just made it disappear?
  • Why was Justin Trudeau at a PC pancake breakfast?
    • Did he being maple syrup or that too regionalist of me?
  • What did Gil McGowan blow when he got his impaired driving charge?
    • I said "what".
  • How did the Friends of Medicare find a new Executive Director with exactly the same voice as the old one?
    • I understand though, unconfirmed, that the gender is different.
  • Does the CBC really think it's a good idea to stop shipping oil by anything that might spill or catch fire?
    • Horse back in a leather pouch perhaps?
  • Was anyone surprised that Stephen Mandell's trailer park is NOT in Terwillegar and that he blamed the county for bad drainage?
    • Who would he have blamed if it had been in Edmonton, or does it really surprise anyone to learn he owns a trailer park?
  • Is flying photo radar really that far from the provincial consciousness?
    • After all those communities that use photo radar report significant revenue increases without the associated costs of enforcement.
  • Could you build a house in less time than it takes Kim Kardashian to wreck a home?
    • Who the hell is Kim Kardashian anyway?
And on it goes, as you can see each of these questions deserves a good answer. That probably isn't going to happen.
My time hanging out on Courtney Love's tour bus:
I confess, up front to not knowing  who Courtney Love is but since it's her 49th birthday today  I thought I would  describe, from personal experience,  the conditions in which she travelled.
Many years ago, I was east bound on the Trans Canada highway at Strathmore,(yet another town that successfully lobbied NOT to be bypassed so they can have lots of photo radar revenue like St. Albert and Whitecourt) when a small car left the road and hit  an exposed culvert sustaining terminal damage, fortunately the occupants were reasonably ok.
As we were waiting for the various emergency service providers to respond, an east-bound tour bus,  stopped and two women got out.
One apparently was Courtney Love.
Rather than hear her say things like, "this wreck is rad" or "How'd it feel to wrestle with death" she simply and quite graciously simply invited us into the bus and proceeded to make tea.

The bus itself was quite ordinary, no giant bongs or gymnastic equipment bolted to the ceiling, it was by all appearances a pretty nice place to wile away the hours between gigs.
After the police and tow truck  left, I agreed to take the people in the damaged car  to Brooks, their destination, this minor gesture, was apparently an act of kindness not common in the Love household, where people were more apt to shoot themselves, and Courtney offered me tickets to her show in Calgary;  Edge-Fest I believe it was called. 

Regrettably I declined as I knew I had to mow the lawn that night.
Upon telling my teenage daughter that I had met someone named Courtney Love and declined the aforementioned concert tickets, I suddenly went from good dad to very bad Dad as these tickets and their back stage passes would have been a status symbol with considerable stroke amongst her peers. 
I have never listened to the band HOLE and doubt I ever will, but the concert persona and the persona of the lady who made tea on the bus were not the same.  I did not ask her about Kurt because, to this day I have no idea who he is. Since then however he has earned  my undying respect that like the pig vs. the chicken, Kurt and the pig were committed to their music and breakfast respectively,  whereas  chickens and punk rockers who only threaten to kill themselves, merely participate.
Bravo Kurt, I just wish you could inspire some rappers.

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