Autumn Road Trip: Part Two

On Thursday we drove to the Logging Museum. It's an outdoor Museum that displays and recreates the logging tradition that is a large part of parks history and is ongoing today in a controlled manner.





This Museum was of great interest to me as my grandfather would work in the winter logging camps like many other men of the Ottawa Valley region. It was a hard and in many cases short life. Logging was extremely dangerous and in a given year hundreds would die in the course of felling trees and driving the logs down river. Many of the tools on display are identical to ones we still have at the cottage and were used by my grandfather in logging.





After the logging Museum we hiked on the Hemlock Bluff trail. there were lots of huge pine trees that had been uprooted by summer storms. The smell of pine was incredible.




Overlooking Jack Lake. You don't get a sense of the height of the bluff overlooking the lake from the photo but thats a very good drop.




Whiskey Rapids. Last year John and Sharon saw a canoe jammed in the rocks here.

Autumn Colours

Sharon noticed the patterns and colours of the oil in the Algonquin Visitor's Centre parking lot. It made an interesting contrast after seeing the natural landscape.

Autumn Road Trip: Part One

Sharon, John, Victor and I left Ottawa on a rainy Wednesday afternoon and drove east towards Algonquin park. We listened to some great Texan music on the way to Whitby Ontario where our cabin awaited us.



It was much colder out here at the Eastern Gate of Algonquin than it had been in Ottawa. Rather than hike we decided to drop by the visitors centre and take in some history, geography and natural science associated with the region. It turned even colder overnight. We stayed in and played cards. In the morning we rose to a world that had turned frosty overnight.


There are an abundance of moose in the area but these two proved to be the only ones we would see. I did learn all about brain worms, although I wished perhaps I hadn't. Brain worms actually live benignly on the surface of deer brain matter and spinal cords. For the moose however they are devistating, leading to all kinds of complications and death.

There is a panoramic view that can be taken in from behind the Visitor's Centre. You can see a lake to the left and a river that runs through a swampy spruce bog which you can see if you click the image above.

Ottawa valley

Click on the image above to see a view of the Ottawa Valley from the Gatineau Hills in Quebec.

Fiddler and the Goof

John and Sharon came up last night. They are staying at a B&B in Wakefield and last night we went to see Natalie McMaster perform at the Black Sheep Inn. By gum she can play that fiddle, but she also has a natural talent for showmanship which was a nice surprise. The inn was packed and this was the fourth show there in two days so I guess she has a lot of fans.
We all purchased our tickets from Ticketweb and then recieved an e-mail the next day that the show had been cancelled. I was suspicious and called the Black Sheep. Paul assured me that the show was not cancelled so I called up Ticketweb and was bruskly told that if it said it was cancelled then it was cancelled case closed.Five minutes after that conversation i recieved a meek apology stating that I had in fact been correct. the show was not cancelled. it was an error in Ticketwebs system. It's a good thing I called.
It was a great drive up to wakefield through the blazing leaves of autumn hills. The cold nights have really brought us a spectacular fall. I can't wait for the Drive with John and Sharon on Wednesday. We are going to a cabin in Alqonquin park for a night and then on to Owen Sound on Thursday. Should be some spectacular scenery. I only wish my redheaded love was here to enjoy it as I know she would.

I first encountered the Boomtown Rats from a German student at Daharan Academy. He was the first person i knew who was into 'punk' music. He lent me the cassette of their first lp with this cover of some skinny dude in gauze I didn't get the music then as I was into bands like Styx and Kiss at the time like most 70's preteens. A year later I heard the Sex Pistols and the Clash and Elvis Costello and the spark lit the flame. It's kind of fun to look back now and see Bob Geldof all punked out circa 1979.

No Borders Here

There is an article in the Saturday Globe and Mail about Torontonian recording artist Jane Siberry. For a good number of years Jane has been running here own record label but it seems that she has grown tired of how the business end of things has taken away from the creative process. As a result she has been giving away her music online since last November. It's all there for the taking although you are welcome to make a contribution. The Globe and Mail article notes that most downloaders do pay for the music, but Jane admits that this model may not work for all artists in that she probably attracts a particular type of fan.

The article goes on to explain that she has taken the further step of giving away most of her material possessions including her house and in June 2006 changed her name to Issa. I don''t get the feeling she's trying to be some holy aesetic who seeks the divine through suffering, so much as she wants to live a simpler life. She's still clearly has money but uses it in a different way. It's easy to ridicule her choices since she is 'different' but I kind of admire people who can live this way.

I Always Wondered When This Would Happen

Overpass near Montreal collapses

I can't say that I am too surprised. There was a story on this a few years back on the CBC after pieces of another overpass fell off. Must be the same people who made the Olympic Stadium!

"You Can't handle the Truth"

Leslie pointed me to this article from the Guardian that comments on a recent edition of Newsweek. The covers for the world editions (Europe, Asia, Latin America), show an Afghani fighter with the headline "Losing Afghanistan". The US edition shows photographer Annie Leibotwitz with some kids.

This World of Water

One of the powerful things about the internet is that it allows you to verify the existence of things so remote in your past that you sometimes wonder whether they ever existed at all, or are just something you've concocted out of scrambled memories. Here is a perfect example. When I was around 12 or 13 years old and living in Daharan, Saudi Arabia, I caught a deadly fever. I was hallucinating. I saw these geometric glowing figures that talked and moved in strange ways. Everyone was quite worried. I was put on antibiotics which no doubt saved my life.

During the next few days I lay in bed and listened to the BBC feed that came over Radio Bahrain. One song I recall was about water and dolphins perhaps. In anycase I was still in enough of a brain freak state that any song I listened to on the radio appeared before me in vivid reality, or perhaps a better way to explain it was that I was inside the landscape of the song. Me the song, what was the difference. there wasn't one at the time as far as I'm concerned. I only ever heard the song once, but it's seered into my brain and tonight I stumbled upon it on YouTube. There was a video made at the dawn of the video age and here it is. It's called This World of Water by a band called New Musik from an album called From A to B (Straight lines). My trip inside the song, by the way, was much more impressive than this.

It's late and I should be in bed, especially because I have a noggin full of gooey sickness. A September soupy sickness. It's cold and I'm wearing the comfy green wool socks my love knit for me. Fall has come early (or is it just that I'm late from Summer). The leaves are all crunchy like cornflakes and the air sifts the smell of smoke from wood burning stoves. I'm looking forward to John, Sharon' and Victors return to Ottawa. It was last year at this exact same time that they came to visit.

OpenOffice

Having recently purchased a new computer I've spent a good number of hours installing software. One thing I've decided to do with this machine is to try substituting Microsoft Office with Sun Microsystems OpenOffice.Here's how it's described at Snapfiles.com

OpenOffice is a free, Open Source alternative to MS Office with a Word compatible word processor, a complete Excel compatible spread sheet program and a Power Point like presentation software and drawing program and also allows to save to PDF file. In addition, it offers enhanced printing capabilities and options for direct connection with external email software as well as form-letter management to send letters to addresses in a database. Also included are Indexing functions, a layout manager, third-party import filters, HTML export capability and a context-sensitive html editor. OpenOffice also includes a variety of graphics tools and manipulation options as well as slideshow support and an option to create "portable" presentations. If you are looking for a free office suite, don t miss to take a look at this one - you ll be impressed!

It can open word, excel and power pont documents as well as save them in those formats so it's perfectly compatible with MS Office files, so far as I can tell. If your interested in trying it out or making the switch you can find it here>>. It's free to download.

Right On Maude

A while ago I was trying to explain to someone who grew up in the 80s (okay it's Leslie) who Maude was. It wasn't easy. Times have changed too much. Here you go Leslie, maybe this will help you understand the woman they called Maude, but probably not. She's far too complex. you'd really need to take a course.



This next clip is of the cataclismic confrontation between TVs loveable bigot Archie Bunker and the ever righteous Maude. Archie wants his chair but maude ain't givinn' it up without a fight. Right on Maude! Now I'm probably going to have to explain who Archie bunker was.

Forest

The Ottawa Valley

This was taken from the Champlain Lookout in the Gatineaus and overlooks the Ottawa Valley around Eardley



Click for a larger view

Why Does This Make Me Want to Get Out the Benny Goodman Records?

Is it an Urban Legend if it's True?

snopes.com is a well established web site that has investigated the veracity of hundreds of urban legends. While most urban legends fall into the category of imaginative storytelling, in some cases what sounds like a tall tale turns out to be true. Here are some examples of urban legends all of them are true except one. Can you spot it? I didn't think so.

Lemmings were induced into jumping off a cliff for this Disney nature film.

The Marlboro Man died of lung cancer.

Blood from KISS band members was mixed with the red ink used to print the first KISS comic book.

A vengeful co-worker made it his practice to urinate into the office coffee pot.

A lawyer demonstrating the safety of windows in a skyscraper crashed through and plunged to his death.

A Texas woman who cast her vote for all Democratic candidates discovered her ballot marked for Bush/Cheney.

The "Hanging man" in funhouse turned out to be corpse of an outlaw.

A golfer was fatally poisoned after chewing on his tee.

The "Dell Dude" lost his job because of a drug bust.

Kryptonite brand locks can be picked with ordinary Bic pens.

Porn star Marilyn Chambers appeared on the Ivory Snow box.

Joe Namath is not on the List

For your convenience here's a list from the U.S. Transportation Security Administration of prohibited items from flights on American flights >>.

As of the date of this posting it is okay to bring a Dell laptop on board (just leave the ammo at home).

Joe Namath Drunk

Just because it's a lazy Saturday afternoon here's a clip of a wasted Joe Namath saying he wants to kiss a female broadcaster.

10 years Ago

President wants Senate to hurry with new anti-terrorism laws

Montreal Trip, July 2006

Bits of Summer Part One

Bits of summer is a series of photos in which all the elements are taken from the same photo and arranged to take a look at things in a different way. Texture, colour, contrast and form are all put in a strip that gives the eye a new context with which to look.

Jack is Wild

Joe and the Evil -eyed Kite

Like a Rabbit in the Headlights

That's life, that's what all the people say.
You're riding high in April,
Shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune,
When I'm back on top, back on top in June.

I said that's life, and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks,
Stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down,
'Cause this fine ol' world it keeps spinning around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself, flat on my face,
I pick myself up and get back in the race.

That's life
I tell ya, I can't deny it,
I thought of quitting baby,
But my heart just ain't gonna buy it.
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself laying flat on my face,
I just pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life
That's life and I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cutting out
But my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothing shakin' come this here july
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die
My, My

It's a melancholy day as we wind up the summer. That's okay I do melancholy well. To me melancholy is a kind of satisfied sadness. A sadness that deliniates the end of a moment casting it in the sunset glow of nostalgia.

This was the last weekend of 2006 that I will have spent at the cottage. All in all it was a great one. A summer thick with memories; those that run deep like gnarled roots of previous generations, and those that are new shoots of this season, and all twist and twine together weaving a new pattern that I can call the summer of 2006.

Yesterday was cool and breezy. The sky was vivid blue that struck me all the more in contrast to the gray and fluorescent lights of the office I've recently adapted to. A few ice cream clouds passed by, a raven or two spread her black wings and croaked, the scent of the red pine needles that blanketed the ground seasoned the air.

I enjoyed hearing my mother's stories of friends and family and strangers. Mom is of a generation before TV when story telling was a conversational skill. People today largely don't have the patience to engage in that I find.

Down around the bend there has been a large log home with well kept grounds and log fences all along the perimeter. By the size of it it clearly belongs to someone with money. Last spring the father of the family that lived there shot himself. The story is that he was a wealthy stock broker. They say that he and his wife, once took a trip through Montana and saw a home that they loved. The cabin, the cottage, the ranch, that they built in Bristol along the Ottawa River was a replica of that Montana home. The couple had two daughters and all the milestone family events took place there. Weddings, anniversaries, graduations. As a stock broker the man made a fortune, and lost a fortune and made yet another. They say. The cottage home with it's waterfront and private beach is up for sale. It's the last house on the Pine Lodge road just on the other side of the Charlie Russell Canal, but that's another story as storytellers say.

Songs of a Season

Here are the songs of the season:

1. Summer's CauldronGrass:XTC
2. Buggin': Flaming Lips
3. Summer Blowin' Town: Ron Sexsmith
   
4. Silver & Gold: Neil Young
5. Kathy's Song: EvaCassidy
6. Love's Been Good to Me: Johnny Cash
7. Going to California: Led Zepplin
8. Hissing of Summer Lawns: Joni Mitchell
9. Incinerate: Sonic Youth
10. You're My Best Friend: Queen
11. William it Was Really Nothing: The Smiths
12. Take A Chance With Me: Roxy Music
    
    
    
    

"Well I love you in the autumn most of all, when the leaves come tumbling down"

It seems that the golden age of blogging has come and gone for the Glob and Wail, however the Glob is still a 'place'I am fond of. It will be around for some time even if it means I don't make daily entries anymore.

It's been a memorable summer. Tonight I can feeling it winding down. It's a chilly drizzling Sunday evening and I realize that soon I'll be starting my third fall in Ottawa. Autumn has always been my favourite season. More so now, as it was two autumns past that the paths of Leslie and I came upon a common road. Those were days of exploration for me in my new city, walking along the Rideau river, cascades of coloured tree-tops tops set against an icey blue sky-sea where disinterested clouds sailed to invisible empires. Among the reeds I saw two swans and thought of Yeats and the Wild Swans at Coole and in my ear ran verses from Pagan Streams and It was the time of the Autumn Mix and "Things Will Never Be the Same", and they weren't. But that was all to come still, though it all had been set in motion. The music said something about ourselves that the other appreciated and so did the changing leaves and the wind, and the moon

In those days we discretely wrote a single mail each week. Sunday nights I would take Luna for an extra long evening walk along the tree lined streets with their old manors and the smell of burning wood on the cool air. Those nights I anticipated a reply from Leslie and more often than not my anticipation was met with fulfillment. Then came hand written letters and I think at that point I let myself dream dreams that came true.

I know that spring is the time of renewal, as is New Years which falls in the depths of winter, but for me it is autumn. Autumn brings me back home. It is the season of reflection. A time for me to appreciate everything good that has happened and to start anew. A time to look back on summers glow and prepare for the long dark winter by harvesting all the warm and comforting things that make our lives meaningful.

Let the Golden Age Begin, let the full moon rise, let the circle be unbroken,

Up on a hill, as the day dissolves
With my pencil turning moments into line
High above in the violet sky
A silent silver plane - it draws a golden chain
One by one, all the stars appear
As the great winds of the planet spiral in
Spinning away, like the night sky at Arles
In the million insect storm, the constellations form
On a hill, under a raven sky
I have no idea exactly what I've drawn
Some kind of change, some kind of spinning away
With every single line moving further out in time
And now as the pale moon rides (in the stars)
Her form in my pale blue lines (in the stars)
And there, as the world rolls round (in the stars)
I draw, but the lines move round (in the stars)
There, as the great wheels blaze (in the stars)
I draw, but my drawing fades (in the stars)
And now, as the old sun dies (in the stars)
I draw, and the four winds sigh (in the stars)

There's a rhythm under the song
And it beats for the old and the young
And it pounds in the back of the sun
It's the sound of one drummer, one drum

There's a rhythm, it's subtle yet strong
And it moves all the wallflowers on
To the dance floor that holds everyone
To the sound of one drummer, one drum

Dance, for the time marches on
Off to a war that can never be won
To the heartbeat of drums

There's a rhythm not cruel or kind
Though you feel that it's left you behind
Is it justice or you that is blind
When you don't see it coming, how come?

Montreal July 2006

Life in the Valley