Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Sunday with The Boss

Melanie comes out to Canada exactly two weeks from today which, whilst an obviously exciting and long-awaited prospect, means that I will have to start thinking about tidying the apartment soon. In all seriousness the apartment is actually quite tidy, but I guess that dusting and vacuuming are both going to have to become more than monthly events.

Speaking of Melanie, I was very jealous of her this weekend because she went to the Hard Rock Calling event in Hyde Park on Sunday, where she got to see, amongst others, the Dave Matthews Band and Bruce Springsteen play. Springsteen is an artist that I've grown more fond of over the years (mainly because Melanie keeps making me listen to him), and if one thing is for sure then that's the fact he always delivers when he's onstage. He played for well over three hours on Sunday (after having done the same at Glastonbury the night before), and both he and his band clearly just love performing.

Here's a clip of Outlaw Pete from Sunday's show (don't worry, the person who was filming eventually realises which way up to hold their camera) and if you watch closely, you will see Melanie's hand at around the 2:53 mark as she gets her camera back from the lady who's sitting on someone's shoulders:



Oh, and I've also been told that you should listen to The Gaslight Anthem; they come from New Jersey, like Bruce, and they also played on Sunday and were very good, so I'm told.

There, now I've told you.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Hi, Billy Mays not here


I don't know if he was well known in the UK, but Billy Mays had achieved near iconic status in North America, and it was with Jacksonesque shock that I learned of his untimely death this morning. For those of you that haven't heard of him, Billy Mays was the top pitchman on the infomercial circuit, using his booming voice to hawk such products as Oxi Clean and Mighty Putty, and earning billions of dollars for the companies who employed him; he even had his own show on the Discovery Channel.


Billy was scheduled for hip surgery later this week; he'd originally only intended to have surgery on his right hip, but fortunately he'd called the hospital within five minutes of seeing their ad and they'd doubled their offer; all Billy had to do was pay packaging on the second hip.

Let's just hope that the hospital has a 30 day money back guarantee.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Sex, Lies and Red Tape (without the sex and lies)

Gosh, I hadn't realised that it had been a week since my last post. Sad, lonely person that I am, I've hardly left the apartment in the last seven days, but looking back quite a lot has still managed to happen in that time.

Firstly, the fact that I conducted the interview I was telling you about last time in my pyjamas obviously didn't count against me, as I was offered the job! It was a teaching post with the Gitxaala Nation and would have seen me working in the small community on Dolphin Island, near Prince Rupert in British Columbia. I say would have because I actually turned down the offer, since there would not also be a job for Melanie there. It would have been an interesting experience, but at least I don't now need to change the title of the blog, and I don't need to go through the laborious process of applying for a teaching permit in B.C.

Now, I love living in Canada, but the way the education system is run over here continues to be one of my great frustrations. Education is run provincially, rather than federally, and is a perfect example of how Canada, whilst technically a single entity, is in reality a collection of thirteen independent nations, each with their own identity and approach. This provincial structure should not in itself be a problem, but the provinces simply do not talk to each other, and what is already a bloated and overly-bureaucratic process consequently becomes all the more frustrating.



I could just about handle the fact that my thirteen years of teaching experience in the UK counted for very little when I first came over to Canada. I was new to the country and, despite having the same queen on our currency, I had to prove to the Ontario College of Teachers (OCT) that I had the qualifications I claimed I had. I had to provide proof that I had the 'O' and 'A' levels that I said I had, I had to provide original transcripts from my universities to prove that I'd passed my degrees and I then had to provide proof that I was actually a certified and registered teacher, which of course I couldn't be in the first place without having passed all the exams which I'd already had to prove I'd passed!

Then, I had to apply to another, entirely separate, body - the Qualifications Evaluation Council of Ontario (QECO) - who would decide what pay scale I would be on when, and if, I found gainful employment. They needed much of the same information that I'd already sent to the OCT, but do the two organizations communicate with each other? Of course not! I had to submit everything again myself. Eventually, QECO decides how much you will be paid, and you are then finally able to start teaching properly if, as an 'outsider', you can actually force your way into the virtual closed shop that is run by the school boards, but that's a story for another time.



However, that's not the end of it, because as I mentioned earlier, the provinces don't talk to each other. Each province has their own equivalent of the OCT and QECO, and if you want to work in a different province, YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE SAME PROCESS AGAIN! Did you notice that I wrote that last bit in capitals? That's because I'm frustrated. I can see absolutely no logic behind this process, and if anyone actually can then I'd love them to explain it to me.

OK, sorry about that; rant over now. I was also going to write about how the cable guy came round this week - not Jim Carey, but a real cable guy - and how Michael Jackson's death must have really annoyed the backroom staff in the newsrooms who had spent days preparing tribute reels for Farrah Fawcett, but there isn't time now. The concluding part of Impact is about to start, and Earth only has 39 days left before the Moon crashes into it. Of course, that is unless a crack group of scientists, led by the unlikely, yet robust, figure of Natasha Henstridge, can come up with a plan.

For the Earth's sake, I just hope they don't need to get their qualifications ratified first.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Taking care of business

Hope you enjoyed the Catchphrase clip from yesterday - poor Marita really doesn't know what's going on, does she? - but I should warn you that some of the links that are presented at the end are pretty explicit. Sorry if you've already viewed any of them and got a bit of a surprise as a result, but I wonder how many of you are now going to go back in order to see what you missed? My warning is obviously lost on people like you, a bit like the red triangle that Channel 4 used to display in the corner of the screen to alert any unsuspecting viewers that the program they were watching contained 'adult' content. Now, how many extra viewers did that attract?...

But I digest.

It was the longest day today, and after a few long days of my own at the storage unit I have now officially given up on sorting it out until Melanie arrives next month. I've told her to bring some extra storage unit fairies on the plane with her, but apparently they're not good flyers - ironic, given that they have wings - so they probably won't make the trip.

I'm still keeping busy though. Later this week I should be receiving my contract offer for next year's work, and it's 99% certain now that the course will be moved to Kangirsujuaq, as I hinted at last month. Last year I had to wait until the end of August until I received my contract offer so it's good to be getting it all sorted out early this time, but I've learnt that I will have to return North by August 17th, which is almost three weeks earlier than I anticipated. Now, before you raise your eyebrows in indignation over the fact that I will still have had a three month holiday, going back so soon almost halves the time that Melanie and I will have together once she gets here, which is most disappointing.



However, this situation could still change as there may yet be a further twist in the path that the forthcoming year might take. Melanie and I applied for jobs at a number of schools earlier this year, mainly in the spirit of keeping irons in the fire, but having heard nothing back from any of them we both assumed that the fire had gone out. There must have been a few glowing embers remaining though, because one of these schools contacted us out of the blue on Friday, and this morning I had a telephone interview with them.



I can't really say too much at this stage as I'm not sure what's going to happen next, but I can reveal that this was the first ever interview I've done in my pyjamas (very Canadian; pyjamas are seen as legitimate everyday clothing over here), and I will tease you with the information that if we were offered posts at this school (and accepted them), I'd have to change the title of the blog to Life in a Western Town, or something similar. Intrigued? I'll give you more news when I can, but I have to go now as a show called Impact is about to start on TV. It's 'a two part sci-fi drama about the moon on a collision course with Earth' which, as those of you who know me well will realise, is a show with my name written all over it. Now, which national monument is going to get it first?

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Say what you see

Clearing out the storage unit is proving to be a long and arduous task, and consequently I've been looking for other things to do in the hope that the storage unit fairies will do my bidding for me in the interim. However, every time I return there, nothing more has been done, leading me to draw the conclusion that either the fairies don't exist or that they are just as lazy as me. I'll leave you to make up your own mind on that one.

One of my favourite exercises in procrastination has been spending countless hours surfing the web (does anyone use that phrase any more?....oh, I guess I just did), and in doing so I came across the clip that I now present to you here. It certainly falls into the 'oldie but goodie' category, and most of our UK readership will probably know it well already, but I still fall apart laughing every time I see it, so it deserves to be shared.

The clip involves the UK TV game show Catchphrase. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, it was a very popular early evening family game show, and was a sort of animated version of Pictionary. Contestants had to guess the well known phrase from the animation on screen - Roy Walker, the host, would often prompt the contestants to 'say what you see' - and if they did they got to have a go at answering the ongoing catchphrase question, which was revealed one square at a time. Anyway, without further ado, I present to you....Catchphrase. Enjoy!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Fetes accomplis

For the last couple of days I've been kept busy undertaking the arduous task of clearing out the storage unit that we rent (why do we have have so much junk?), but now I've finally got a couple of minutes to bring you up to speed on my weekend. Firstly, I got to see my friend, Chris Koster, in concert on Friday night. Chris is an inordinately talented musician; his music deserves to reach a far wider audience than it already does, and Friday night's show saw Chris and his band in top form (I'm not being paid to write this, honestly). Go check out his website - if you visit the 'music' section, you can download a few tracks - and in the meantime here's an acoustic version of Montreal:



The following day saw a complete change of pace as I attended Maplecrest-Sempar's school fete. It was a splendid occasion, and the many highlights included throwing wet sponges at Milo, riding a horse and getting to sit inside a Bison armored personnel carrier that had been brought to the fete by two army officers from the base in Kingston. They had just come back from Afghanistan, and whilst I may not agree with the reasoning behind why we actually sent troops there in the first place, I have ultimate respect for the men and women who have to do the fighting. They also showed us some video shot when their convoy came under fire in Afghanistan, which only served to raise those respect levels a further notch higher.




Puts my battles with the storage unit into a different perspective, don't you think?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Dave & Gid's Excellent Adventure

It's been a busy week on Planet Gideon, with road trips, concerts, and summer fĂȘtes all competing for attention since I last posted. Sunday is certainly proving to be a day a rest, and I can now fill you in on said events.

My road trip with Dave took in 2000km, three U.S. states and one shining example of roadside gigantism (hurrah!). We travelled east through New York state, south through Vermont, back into New York, then further south into Pennsylvania before finally heading back north up the I81 through New York state again, thus completing a full circle, or ovoid, of Stateside shenanigans.

During our trip we visited Burlington, Vermont, which is the home of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. The factory tour allowed us to act like complete tourists - which I suppose we were - and whilst we were in the area we also took in the arctophile's delight that is the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory (rock 'n' roll, eh?).




Whilst in downtown Burlington we also had a brush with U.S. law enforcement. On returning to the car we found an envelope marked 'Burlington Police Department' under the wiper blade, and immediately thought that our Canadian number plates had invoked the wrath of the local constabulary. However, the contents of said envelope revealed that we had in fact been commended on leaving our vehicle in a secure state with nothing to attract any would-be criminals. The fact that the back of the car was crammed with cases, sleeping bags and maps which screamed 'we are tourists: please rob us!' seemed to have escaped the notice of the officers on duty. Either that, or the Burlington P.D. is the most sarcastic police department in North America.


(click to enlarge)

Happily unrobbed, we were able to continue our trip onwards, finding along the way the house where Dave used to live as a young child in the city of Wilkes-Barre, PA. However, the undoubted highlight of the entire trip was to be found at a fork in the road between the small towns of Red Hook and Rhinebeck, NY, where we encountered - what else would you expect? - a giant fork. Forget Niagara Falls, forget the Grand Canyon, forget Machu Picchu - this is what sightseeing is all about!



Once you have basked in the awesome shadow cast by such a fine example of oversized cutlery it is difficult to move on; the mind needs time to readjust itself back to the constraints of normality. The remainder of our trip was consequently spent in a state of higher-plane contemplation (as well as the states of New York, Vermont and Pennsylvania) and only now has my inner being managed to content itself once again with the relative mundaneness of everyday life. After such an experience, it is difficult to plan where one goes next, but plan one must.

Tim Hortons anyone?

Monday, June 8, 2009

Road trip!

My friend Dave came down from Ottawa last night, and this morning we are embarking on an unplanned, unscripted road trip south of the border. I had wanted to try to take in as many giant balls of twine or other such examples of roadside gigantism that prevail in the States, but Dave isn't so keen, so where we will wind up is anyone's guess. I shall be travelling sans laptop, so there won't be any posts for the rest of the week, but rest assured I'll let you know where our re-creation of Harold & Kumar takes us just as soon as I can.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Not a happy camper



Well, in the manner of Bear Gryllls or Ray Mears I have emerged from the wilderness unscathed, save for my usual collection of bites which, whilst not as large as last year's, is still sizeable. One bite has swelled to such an extent that it looks as though I have a tumour growing behind my right ear, a fact of which I was not aware until I had spent a good couple of hours socialising at the school's barbecue which took place after we returned from camp. The looks of sympathy mixed with terror that I was getting now make sense.

The trip itself ran smoothly, but despite the fact that we were graced with good weather, I can't say that I really enjoyed myself. I am simply not a happy camper. I view camping in the same way as the albino in The DaVinci code viewed self-flagellation; it is a necessary act of penance that needs to be observed every so often in order that one's sins may be absolved. It is my hope that one uncomfortable night under canvas helps remind me of the relative luxuries I have at home and, as a consequence, makes me appreciate them just that little bit more.


I know I lead a relatively adventurous lifestyle when I'm in the North, but that is all done in the knowledge that there is a reasonably comfortable, heated apartment to come back to at the end of the day. I have helped to build an igloo but I would view spending the night in one on a voluntary basis much in the same way that I view camping. I think houses are a good invention, and one that we should all embrace.

Having said all this though, the students on the trip all seemed to enjoy themselves, and that is the most important thing. If I am around and about this time next year I will undoubtedly offer my services once again, if only to absolve the sins that have have been committed over the previous twelve months.



I'd just better be a good boy this year.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Camping it up

Today was Camp Day at Tim Hortons.

For those of you who are reading this anywhere other than in the UK, that statement will have seemed perfectly regular and normal. However, I would wager that our British readership is now having a quiet titter to itself or is possibly rolling around on the floor, depending on disposition and available floorspace.

Let me explain.



Camp Day
is actually a day when Tim Hortons donates all its takings from every coffee sold that day to a fund whose aim is to send needy kids to summer camp. It's a very worthy cause, and last year over $9 million was raised; you can read more about it by clicking here.

However, in Britain, the word 'camp' can have an entirely different connotation. Granted, its primary meaning is related to tents, but the word is also widely used to describe someone who behaves in a very exaggerated, theatrical, gay manner. So you can imagine my reaction when, some three or four years ago, I first became aware of Tim Hortons' Camp Day. I was expecting all their staff to be acting in the manner of Frankie Howerd or Larry Grayson, and exclaiming 'I'm free!' when they were available to serve. I was all prepared for a day of hysterical tomfoolery, only to be brought back down to earth when I learnt what was really going on.



You see, here in Canada, this alternative meaning of the word camp doesn't seem to exist, so much so that there is also an organization called Camp Kids. I remember when we first visited Canada, some six years ago, seeing a line of children in bright yellow T-shirts emblazoned with the Camp Kids logo being led down the main street in Kingston; Melanie and I struggled to keep our composure as we tried to spot which of the children was mincing the best, and the people around us are probably still wondering to this day just what on earth we found so funny.

Anyway, they say little things please little minds, and my little mind always enjoys this time of year at Tim Hortons. Oh, and as coincidence (not irony, Alanis) would have it, I'm going camping with my old school tomorrow - tent camping, not the other type - and assuming we don't get eaten by bears, I shall give you the full lowdown on the trip at the weekend.

Now, what do I need to take with me? It's only for one night, but I simply haven't got a thing to wear...

Monday, June 1, 2009

Growing old gracefully

I really am becoming old.

It was my birthday yesterday, and the day before I went to the shops with the intention of buying myself a modest present. What did I get?

A vacuum cleaner and a frying pan.

Look, I really needed both items, alright? The vacuum cleaner we have here at the apartment is broken and the one frying pan we own is still with all my belongings up in Inukjuak. I tried to cook French toast in a saucepan last week and thought 'enough's enough.'

Needless to say, I still haven't used either item yet.

Then, just to confirm the age thing, I took myself on a nice Sunday drive yesterday, during which time I became one of those old folk that hold you up when you've got far more important places to be. Whilst on the road I decided to search for a Tim Horton's that I hadn't visited before, and my quest eventually took me to the town of Perth where I enjoyed a very pleasant, and educational, couple of hours.

Whilst there, I discovered the site of the last ever fatal duel in Ontario...



...and I also discovered one of the biggest cheeses in the province.



Now, whether Perth ever witnessed any cheese-based duels is not on record, but if there ever were any, my money would have been on the Brie. I rounded off my day with a visit to the Cineplex to see Angels & Demons - the movie, not actual angels and demons - and after such an action packed start to the week, I really don't know where to go from here.

Perhaps I could unbox the vacuum?

Nah.

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