Category: Certainties

I’ve wondered for years if anybody’s really looked into the weirdness of these two words. Vancouver. What kind of a word is that?  Van-coo-ver.  It just sounds, you know, weird. Granville isn’t as weird but I’ve often wondered what happened to the ‘d’?  Didn’t it use to be Grandville?  Grandville Street?  Vancouver Grandville?  Pretty sure.  Somebody’s slipped up somewhere.

So it’s politics now, is that it?  Politics?  You want to play politics with me?  Huh?  You change my federal riding around, partner.  We, me, mine, Señoras y Señors, we vote in Vancouver Centre.  We never vote in this Vancouver Granville place.  Que pasa, mister?

Well, let me tell you, Gomez, I’ve been determined to find the answer to that question myself.  Therefore the site has taken on the responsibility of explaining the candidates.

But first, this here new riding is kinda inneresting, you know?  Runs from 6th and 4th Avenues south to the Fraser River, and that’s a healthy run.  I haven’t done it, but I may.  And from Arbutus Street to Main Street with a little jog in there as well at 41st Avenue to Cambie Street.  Good luck out there.

Mira Oreck.  What kind of name is that?  I don’t know, but she seems like a very nice person.  NDP.  Rookie candidate in a rookie riding.  I read her site.  It struck me that most of what you get initially is her.  You’ve got to look for what she’s standing for and why.  But Mira got back to me.  I pointed out a typo on the site and it’s been corrected.  You’re welcome to drop by anytime.

Jody Wilson-Raybould. Liberal. What’s she’s standing for and why is writ large, right there when you go to the site.  That struck me as very positive.  Rookie candidate in a rookie riding.  Okay, that name is a little weird at first, but you get used to people.  “It’s time for change,” Jody says.  Is it ever.

Erinn Broshko.  The guy just might win the weird name contest.  I’d say he’s first, with Mira close in second and Jody third, but here comes Michael Barkusky on the rail.  We’ll get to him in a sec.

Erinn looks like a groomed guy.  Good teeth.  Conservative.  Rookie candidate, rookie riding.  I watched the video.  “Let’s seize this opportunity”.  Talking points:  Economy.  Environment.  Feel good.  Zero details.  There’s a least one untruth in his mission statement, that his opponents and their parties have “no vision for our country and no plan for the economy”.

Childish, really, such declarations.  Erinn says it’s true so it must be true.  Smacks of Harper-ism, which has been scientifically proven to be bad for the country.

Okay, Micheal Barkusky, have your say.  Green Party.  Rookie candidate, rookie riding.  But a bit like Mira, the site starts out with a career summary.  Michael, we don’t care about your career.  You’re a rookie.  You have no career.  What is the vision and the policy that’s going to put you on top, Mike?  Click on “Platform” and it’s Liz May.  Michael says nothing himself, personally.  Darn.

It’s no help, I know.  We try to help, but we don’t know.  We do know, or I know, because maybe I should speak for myself and let the rest of the crew here spread their messages on their own time; I do know, as I say, that change is imminent.  Sam Cooke said it best.  Change is gonna come.

 

 

I know. It’s ridiculous. It’s crazy. I didn’t want to do it but they saw me first. Those beautiful little cans of ‘50’ in that still compelling, nostalgia-generating bright green and white 12-pack box with the red lettering. What are you talkin about, mister?

I saw a twelve-pack of ‘50’ at our local, overpriced liquor shop.  I go in.  Go to the coolers.  Top of the flow racks right to the left of what I was about to grab, there they are, a row coming down of 12-pack boxes of Labatt’s 50.  “What’s this?,”  I’m thinking.  “It’s wrong.  They don’t sell this here, not for years.”  I would know.  I’ve been guzzling bier in several decades.  This can’t be Cinquante.

Cinquante.  That’s what Quebecers say, and when in Quebec do as  Quebecers do.  They appreciate that.  “Deux Cinquantes, por favor.”  I know.  My French is execrable.  50.  Something about 50.  50 years.  50 beers.  It just flows.

It’s all over now.  All the 50 is gone and I can’t find it anywhere.  I’ve no idea where the booze shop got it from and it was at an attractive price.  It’s a shame.  A tragedy.  I can’t go on.  I’ll go on.

Absolutely.  Last beer commercial you’ll ever see around here.  You said that, Dudelette.

“Cinquante, s’il vous plait!”  I used to love doing that.  In Hull, Chicoutimi, Montreal, Quebec City.  Nostalgia.  Once you figure out what it means it tastes pretty good.