My Valentine

I've never been comfortable with public displays of affection or grand romantic gestures. For years, Valentine's Day itself was a subject of some scorn for me, a holiday manufactured by shadowy figures trying to sell chocolate, diamonds and greeting cards.

But when I first really looked into Sylvia's big googly eyes, I couldn't remain cynical about love, because I was finally feeling it. Every day takes on new meaning thanks to her. No matter what life throws at me, I always feel better when she's around.

This concludes this year's public declaration of love. We now return to our scheduled program of book and movie reviews, political notes, pop culture analysis and silly nonsense about comic books and Star Trek.

But first, some more cute photos of Sylvia.

Sylvia couldn't resist pulling on Mike's mohawk.

100 Books a Year?

Back in December, Sylvia and I met Bruce and Leslie at Joey's for dinner. During our conversation, Bruce asked me if I thought I read 100 books a year - a goal Leslie was shooting for. Without really thinking about it, I shrugged and said, "Sure."

But since then, I've wondered. 100 books a year is about two books per week, roughly. And I don't have time to read as much as I used to. So for fun, I decided to track my reading in 2011. Here's what I've read so far:

A Disturbance of Fate (Mitchell J. Freedman, 2003): Alternate history novel about the presidency of Robert Kennedy. 

Exegesis (Astro Teller, 1997): Epistolary by email between an emergent computer intelligence and the PhD student who accidentally designed it.

Geodesic Dreams (Gardner Dozois, 1992): Excellent short story collection from the accomplished SF editor. 

Hell Can Wait (Theodore Judson, 2010): See my review here.  

The Martian General's Daughter (Theodore Judson, 2008): Moving narrative describing the long, painful decline of technological civilization.

Player One (Douglas Coupland, 2010): The first fiction offering in the CBC's Massey Lecture Series. Interesting character study set during the chaos following a peak oil crisis.

Starbound (Joe Haldeman, 2010): Sequel to Haldeman's first-contact novel Marsbound.

Star Trek 365 (Paula Block, 2010): Given the number of books I've read about Star Trek, I was surprised that this thick, colourful behind-the-scenes tome still had some new stories and photographs to offer.

U.S.S. Enterprise Haynes Owners' Workshop Manual (Ben Robinson and Marcus Riley, 2010): Parodying the popular Haynes workshop manuals by creating one for the various Starships Enterprise should have produced a fascinating cultural oddity, but the lightweight execution leaves a lot to be desired. Fails to live up to its potential.  

The World in 2050 (Laurence C. Smith, 2010): Study of the "four forces shaping civilization's northern future:" climate change, demographics, demand on natural resources, and globalization. Interesting for Albertans in that the book opens with a trip to Fort McMurray and a tour of the oil sands.

That's ten so far, about six weeks into the year. Looks like I'm on track to reach 100!

They Say They Want a Revolution

I was earning my political science degree at the University of Alberta when the peoples of eastern Europe rose up in a wave of protest to overthrow their dictators. Events quickly rendered our textbooks obsolete, and professors had to rework their lesson plans to fit the new context. One of my professors was of Latvian descent, and I still remember his overwhelming joy and excitement when he talked about the peaceful Singing Revolution in the Baltic states.

It was an exciting time to be a student, a time when the Utopian visions of my beloved science fiction novels seemed within reach. But even as eastern Europe became freer, similar protests were crushed in China. The road to a better world was, as always, fraught with danger.

Now the peoples of north Africa are rising up in search of a better life. No one can say whether the dreams of Tunisians, Egyptians, and Algerians will be fulfilled or swept aside. But I find it heartening that humanity is now witnessing yet another wave of relatively peaceful political change.

Is there such a thing as a secular prayer? If there is, then I offer up my hopes for the people of north Africa, and for the rest of us, too; one day, if we are wise and very lucky, all the peoples of Earth will work together to gradually build a civilization of perfect justice, prosperity and freedom. That civilization is a long way off, but today, it seems, the people of north Africa are doing their part to create it.

The Day I Sat in the Prime Minister's Chair

Just before graduating from high school, I was one of a few students from across the country chosen to participate in the Forum for Young Canadians. Thanks to the generosity of my parents and Leduc Composite High School's student council, I was flown to Ottawa to experience how the federal government works. On May 12, 1987, three or four of us split off from the main tour of Parliament. A friendly guard escorted us into the House of Commons, where I posed for this photo in the Prime Minister's chair. (I posed for another, standing in the Speaker's chair, but I don't have that one scanned.)


I couldn't help but feel awe as I absorbed the atmosphere and gazed at all the empty chairs around me. In a few hours, those seats would be filled by people discussing issues affecting millions of citizens. They'd argue and shake their fists and sometimes turn purple with rage, but as our representatives they'd hash our their differences with words, not violence. This is the great blessing of civilization. Democracy can be ugly, but how much uglier are the alternatives?

At the time I still considered myself a Conservative, though my faith in that particular ideology had been shaken by my experiences as a PC volunteer during the 1986 provincial election. Meeting Brian Mulroney in person  did nothing to bolster my confidence in Tory beliefs.

Even so, I still came out of the experience with enhanced respect for elected officials, whatever their party affiliation. I saw how hard they worked for often dubious rewards, including the scorn of the very people who put them in office. Politicians should, of course, expect such scrutiny; their job demands it. But I feel empathy for those who choose to serve.

Stuck in the Mojave

In August 2000, I helped Allan move down to California. He rented the biggest U-Haul available, with a trailer for his car. Halfway between Las Vegas and Los Angeles, the U-Haul stopped working, and we were trapped in the Mojave desert.

The heat was blistering. I pointed north, for I knew that if we walked in that direction, it would get cooler eventually.

Fortunately, the truck started up again after we waited an hour or so for the engine to cool off. Before long, we were in Los Angeles. A couple of days later, after unpacking Allan's metric whammoload of stuff, we dropped off the U-Haul.

"Where did y'all come down from?" asked the U-Haul guy.

"Edmonton," Allan said.

"That shore is a lawgn draave," drawled the U-Haul guy.

Long drive or not, I'm glad we made it through the desert. For a while there, I was imagining us as skeletons, sprawled out in the scrub, reaching for salvation, bones bleached the colour of iPod boxes.

Jeff and Susan

When not enjoying My Name is Earl (J. Woods), I heartily recommend the blogs of husband-and-wife team Jeff and Susan Shyluk. Jeff is an artist, and shares his work with the world on Jeff Shyluk's Visual Blog (JSVB). Susan is a nurse, and shares her words with the world at Singing in the Rain (SITR).

See what geeks they are! Spock, Green Lantern and the Enterprise-D adorning their walls. Even though this was taken in 1995, it's still a pretty bold display of shameless nerd-dom.

Wait - this was shot in my parents' basement.

Earl vs. the Gorn

There I was, gazing out at the stars through a viewport in a lonely corner of Starbase 22, when suddenly a Gorn soldier appeared out of nowhere! I raised my hands in a defensive posture as the reptilian warrior menaced me with a quarterstaff.

"Are you Earl J. Woods?" the Gorn asked, the universal translator turning its sibilant hisses into AI-accented English.

"Why, yes I am," I said, regaining my composure.

"We of the Gorn Confederacy have heard that you work in politics," hissed the Gorn.

"Well, technically I work for the Alberta taxpayers," I explained. "As an employee of the Official Opposition, I provide non-partisan assistance to Members of the Legisla-"

"Perturb me not with your foolish human niceties," said the Gorn. "We of the Gorn Confederacy have heard that you are also a shameless purveyor of puns."

I hesitated. "Some might say that's true, but I don't see what one has to do with the other."

"Bah! See here - this large wooden pole I'm holding in my hand," said the Gorn.

"Yes, I see," I said, uncomprehending.

"This pole is hollow," the Gorn said. "It's an example of the feeding tubes the Excalbians use to slurp lava for sustenance."

"Okay..." I said.

"With your political background, surely you can see where this is heading!" hissed the Gorn.

I thought for a moment, my eyes rolling toward the ceiling in thought.

"It's a straw pole," said the Gorn, shaking the pole. "Get it?"

I shrugged my shoulders and turned toward my blog audience, breaking the fourth wall into smithereens as I offered an apologetic grin.

STRAW POLL:

Was this post:
a) humorous
b) painful
c) evidence that posting once a day for over a month is taking its toll

Go Speed Racers

In August 2003, Sylvia and I travelled to BC's Radium Hot Springs. It was our first trip together as a couple, and Sylvia introduced me to the pleasures of go-kart racing. I was holding my own until the final lap, when Sylvia pulled up from behind and left me in the dust. In my defence, this was my first time racing, and Sylvia had driven on this track before, so she was on familiar terrain.

I found go-kart racing surprisingly exhilarating. I wonder why we haven't raced since. Sounds like a good activity to pursue this summer.

Earning Their Space Pay

Skylab, the US' first space station, was pretty big news in the 1970s. So perhaps it's only natural that the writers of DC Comics' Justice League of America wanted to pay homage to the intrepid space pioneers by giving them a one-panel cameo on the splash page. They even note Skylab's "twelfth record-breaking week in outer space."

But how must these astronauts feel, cooped up in a tin can made of Apollo program leftovers, when they can see the colossal Justice League satellite way up above them in geosynchronous orbit? The JLA satellite has room to accommodate dozens of people in a shirtsleeve (or spandex) environment - and it features artificial gravity and a teleporter, not to mention private staterooms. Meanwhile, Skylab astronauts have to poop in plastic bags and eat food through a straw. No wonder they'd give up half their "space pay" to trade places with the Leaguers.

This is one of the ways in which the conventions of the superhero genre batter suspension of disbelief into jelly. If such fantastic technology exists, why haven't the world's superheroes used it to uplift the entire human species? Imagine the problems they could solve with teleportation and artificial gravity alone. Instead, they use their advanced science to stop people in silly costumes from robbing banks (or, to be fair, from destroying the world.)

See Reed Richards is Useless at TV Tropes for more on this baffling storytelling convention.

One Last Shot at Redemption: Theodore Judson's Hell Can Wait

Several years ago, I reviewed Theodore Judson's first SF novel, Fitzpatrick's War. In late 2010, Alberta's own Edge Publishing released Judson's latest work, Hell Can Wait, a comic fantasy of empathy and redemption.  

Hell Can Wait is less layered and intricate than Fitzpatrick's War or The Martian General's Daughter, but it's also more hopeful.This is the tale of Maternus, a Roman soldier who spends centuries in Hell before being granted one final chance at salvation. Given the ability to read, command of the English language, and a set of tests to pass, Maturnus is thrust into 21st-century Colorado to learn how to control his violent rage and nurture the spark of empathy that gained him this final opportunity in the first place.

An angel, Mr. Worthy, and a demon, Banewill, follow Maturnus' progress, one hoping for the Roman's salvation, the other for his damnation. Long-suffering Banewill knows the odds are against him - after all, good always triumphs over evil in the end - but he gamely does his best to keep Maturnus in hell by increasing the difficulty of the Roman's challenges. Worthy agrees, perhaps because gaining entrance to Heaven shouldn't be easy.

The tasks? Maturnus must, for example, help love blossom between a bullied, overweight, introverted nerd and the most terrifying girl in school. He must help a bitter old woman find happiness in her dying years. And he must play the matchmaker between a forty-something eccentric and the librarian who's infatuated by the loser's best friend, a handsome poet. And all the while, Maturnus dreams of Maria, a slave girl he encountered just once, a girl who impressed him with her bravery, a girl who fanned the flames of Maturnus' inherent decency.

Maturnus is a smart guy, but his ancient background leaves him somewhat at sea when navigating 21st-century societal norms. His manner is blunt, but never deliberately unkind, and his status as an outsider helps him cut through the nonsense of modern human interaction to help people discover their own true worth. In seeking out his own redemption, Maturnus helps others find theirs.

Judson's dry wit and keen observational humour permeate the novel. Despite the high stakes, this is a very funny book. I laughed aloud at several passages, an uncommon experience for me. At one point, Maturnus goes out to the movies with his friends. Although not stated explicitly, it's clear they're watching Zack Snyder's 300, and Maturnus' reaction to the film is both amusing and a sly commentary on modern tastes.

Judson uses humour to underscore his main theme, the possibility of redemption for all, even those previously cast down to hell. In Judson's mythology, damnation and redemption are fluid; just as in life, good actions and bad in the afterlife earn reward and punishment. But on balance, the architects of the universe clearly favour forgiveness. Though people have their faults in both life and death, one is left with the impression that in the ultimate end, everything works out all right. It's an uplifting message for an uncertain era, especially coming from an author whose previous works have documented the slow decay of human civilization.

I'm frustrated that Judson hasn't found the commercial success or widespread acclaim he deserves. His characters are rich, his storytelling compelling, his prose straightforward but smooth. I'm grateful that Edge has given Judson another chance to succeed, and I highly recommend Hell Can Wait to anyone who enjoys science fiction, fantasy, or romance.

Forever Saying Goodbye

The best thing about working in politics is becoming friends with passionate idealists who really want to change the world for the better. The worst thing about working in politics is the high turnover. Today was Tanara McLean's last day as the Media Liaison for the Alberta Liberal Caucus.

Not only was Tanara great at her job, she also brightened up the office with her energy and enthusiasm. She was an extremely talented videographer and podcast producer; I'll miss those shows. But she came from the world of media and back to the world of media she returns. Pretty soon I'll be able to point to the TV and say, "Hey, I knew her!" Thanks for two great years, Tanara.

I would be remiss if I didn't also belatedly mention the departure of correspondence/public relations whiz Amanda Krumins, who left us a couple of months ago. Amanda's one of the smartest people I've ever worked with, and her refreshing candor always left an indelible impression at meetings. When she joined us back in 2007, I was finally able to talk about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel at work without being looked at like a crazy person.It was a blast working with you, Amanda.

Change is, of course, the lifeblood of politics; such comings and goings are an indelible part of the political life. But it can be hard to lose the comfortable familiarity of fulfilling office camaraderie. Amanda, Tanara, Neil and so many others - I still think about you, and I hope you're all doing well, wherever you've chosen to travel.

The Young Journalists

Back in high school, I served as Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper. The Representative, Leduc's newspaper, even gave me an award for it; I only mention it because I just remembered that odd little fact. I don't remember why the award was given or if we published anything that merited the recognition, but I do remember the fun we had. The guy with the gun is British expatriate Jonathan Wright, a madcap fellow who was a whiz with the Apple Lisa pictured in the background. He handled a variety of tasks, from photography to layout, and contributed some of the newspaper's stranger articles.

I'm not really sure why I'm regarding Jonathan with such consternation - perhaps because he brought a gun to the Visual Communications lab? (It was only plastic.)

Years later, I ran into Jonathan at the Legislature Annex, where I work for the Alberta Liberal Caucus. I was surprised to learn that Jonathan was working for the communications staff of then-Premier Ralph Klein, and had even written speeches for him (see correction below)- just as I'd written speeches for Official Opposition Leader Kevin Taft.

The era of Ralph Klein and Kevin Taft seems like it happened decades ago, but it was only 2006. Time flies in politics - faster now than ever before.

As an aside, Jonathan introduced me to the Internet way back in 1986. It was he who showed me how to hook up a 300 baud modem to a computer to access Edmonton's electronic bulletin boards, or BBSes. Back then the text (and there was only text) loaded so slowly that most people read far faster than the data scrolled by. Nowadays, political communicators and journalists are bound together by the Internet, sharing scoops, spreading rumours and trading barbs in real time. Given the tone of most of these communications, it seems a mixed blessing.

CORRECTION: Jonathan himself emailed me to note that my memory is a little off. Jonathan wasn't writing speeches for Premier Klein; rather, he prepared media briefings for Klein, and later for Jim Dinning and Stockwell Day. He's since moved on. Thanks for the correction and for touching base, Jonathan!

David Swann Enjoys a Night Off

I'm not feeling well today but I'm really trying to post something at least once per day. So in light of Alberta Liberal Leader David Swann's farewell, here he is at the 2009 press gallery Christmas party with Sylvia and me.

I suppose this really wasn't a night off for David - for politicians, even parties bring with them obligations to mix with the crowd and make connections. Every person is a potential supporter - or an opponent. That's especially true when you're talking about a crowd of reporters.

Exit David Swann

David Swann will step down as Official Opposition Leader following the end of the spring sitting of the Alberta Legislature. A man of boundless compassion and integrity, David worked for social justice in some of the world's poorest countries, entered war zones at great personal risk to help innocent people, and continues to fight to protect Alberta's environment and public health care.

Despite a compelling personal story and his unquestionable commitment to build a better Alberta, Dr. Swann never really connected with voters. I think that's a shame. Given his background as a physician, his ties to both the oil and gas industry and the environmental movement, and his trust in the scientific method, Swann could have been a transformative leader for Alberta. But as many others have already said, it seems as though you have to be a bit of a bastard to succeed in politics, and David, while he had his moments of steely determination, is the kind of man who always empathizes with his friends, strangers and political enemies alike - if he could even bring himself to call anyone an enemy. That empathy - his greatest strength as a human being - perhaps became his greatest weakness as a leader.

And yet, I'm glad that David didn't sacrifice his kindness and compassion on the altar of short-term political gain. You don't have to be Premier to change the province - and the world - for the better. David has already done more for the world than most of us ever will, and I'm certain that he'll continue to do so for many years to come.

Dr. Swann, it was an honour to have worked with you.

Monitor Mash

My beloved Dell 2407 monitor has given up the ghost. Fortunately I still have a 2408wfp, but that still means I'm down to one display. It's pretty tough to go back to one monitor when you've been using two for years; I feel completely at sea.

The Dell Ultra Sharp U2711 seems to be getting good reviews, and it's $350 off this week at the Dell store. Even with the discount that's still $900...but I do use my monitors for professional work; I need a good one, and it is tax-deductible.

Heavy sigh. If anyone can recommend a quality monitor, let me know.

Happy Birthday, Robert G. Woods

Today we celebrated Dad's birthday. Sean came up with the clever idea of presenting Dad with junior-level hockey tickets, which hopefully he and Mom will enjoy. Here's Dad in front of the RCMP depot in Regina, Saskatchewan, just after he and Mom got married. Dad used to be an officer in the RCMP, so he's familiar with the building. He looks a little like JFK here, doesn't he?

Happy Birthday, Dad!

The First Rule of Debate Club

The first rule of Debate Club is: you must talk about Debate Club. As if people didn't already realize that I'm a bit of a geek, the first rule of Debate Club compels me to reveal that I was a member back when I attended Leduc Junior High School. I surprised myself by discovering that I was, in fact, a pretty good debater, at least for our age group. That's me holding the statue after returning from our first debate team victory in Westlock. (Check out the corduroy pants - I think they were emerald green.) I don't remember who was on my team for that first tournament; it could have been David Ruel and Michelle Wilson, who are standing to my immediate right, or it might have been Jason Hewitt and Mark Lede, who are also to my right, but in the back row.

I do remember - quite vividly - the profound shock I felt when I was named top speaker of the tournament. I remember thinking that I'd performed poorly, but apparently the judges felt otherwise. Mark and Jason and I went on to compete in the provincials, narrowly missing a spot in the semi-finals to place fifth overall. I remember we felt pretty ripped off after losing one debate to a trio of pretty girls a year or two younger than we were. We felt we'd won the debate pretty handily, and that the judges awarded the victory to the other team out of sympathy. In hindsight, I'm sure the judges ruled correctly.

I don't recall which issues we debated, although I have a faint memory that nuclear disarmament may have been among them; on the other hand, that might have been a practise topic. It was certainly one of the biggest issues of the 80s, one that loomed large in the culture of the time.

I wonder if any of our provincial politicians participated in Debate Club when they were younger. I'd say that the NDP's Rachel Notley might have, or perhaps former Alberta Liberal Leader Kevin Taft; maybe our imported neocon Ted Morton was a member down in the States.

But then, if they were, surely the first rule would have already compelled them to talk about it.

The Arch at Hole's

Once in a while I borrow Mom and Dad's old Canon T70 and load it with black and white film. Back in August 2002 I photographed the show garden at Hole's Greenhouses and Gardens in St. Albert. I'm pretty happy with it, though I wish I'd caught the flag fully unfurled - it would have been more picturesque.

I assume this show garden won't be around much longer, since the members of the Hole family are moving their operations to the new Enjoy Centre, a multimillion dollar megaplex opening sometime this year.

Working for the Official Opposition is very rewarding, but I'll admit that I do miss Hole's sometimes. If I needed a mental break, all I had to do was step outside to - quite literally - smell the flowers.

My Most Dangerous Job

I graduated from the University of Alberta in 1991, during the last recession. Good jobs were hard to come by. For three years, I delivered auto parts to Edmonton garages, searching for more fulfilling work the whole time. I finally quit in 1994, and I was lucky enough to stumble upon a very odd transitional job before moving on to the Western Board of Music in 1995.

That transistional job was the most bizarre and dangerous I've ever had. I was one of many workers whose task was to empty a huge warehouse and move all its odds and ends, everything from office furniture and files to industrial equipment, to another location across town. It should have been simple, but this jobsite was so dangerous I quit after three months, fearing I'd be killed or badly injured.

There must have been dozens of workers, ranging in age from twenty to sixty. We were mostly left to our own devices; imagine a horde of workers without gloves or helmets or direction hauling heavy boxes every whichway. Now imagine that many of these people knew nothing about moving safely.

Many of the items in the warehouse were stored on high shelves, shelves that consisted of rickety wooden boards laid down upon metal frames. We had no ladders or lifts; we had to clamber up the shelves, which themselves were not secured to the wall and rose to the ceiling, some twenty-five metres high. Workers near the top would pass down boxes to workers below. One of my coworkers was a nice young man from France, who was stunned when a heavy box slipped from another's grip and hit the Frenchman square atop the skull, nearly knocking him from his precarious perch down to the hard cement floor below. "Mon Dieu! Ma tete!" he shouted as the box bounced off his head and fell to the ground, bursting open to spew its contents all over the floor.

Just a couple of days later, two of the older workers were carrying a chandelier from one end of the top shelf to the other. Somehow the wooden shelf slipped halfway out of its frame, causing one worker to lose his balance. To avoid falling off the shelf, he overcompensated, careening to the right and throwing off the balance of his coworker. To this day I still don't completely understand the physics of how this happened, but in effect the first worker wound up bouncing off the shelf as if he were sprung from a diving board. The chandelier whipped around and gashed open the face of the second worker, who understandably lost his grip, blood oozing from his stunned face. The first worker wasn't strong enough to lift the chandelier himself, and so the chandelier toppled over the side, smashing into a million pieces on the floor, showering the rest of us with glass and metal shrapnel.

Not long after that, I helped load a massive industrial blueprint printer onto a forklift. This machine had to be over five metres long, and I have no idea how much it weighed; it took a dozen of us to push it the few inches needed to give the forklift access. The forklift operator lifted the forks about halfway, which seemed high to me, but what did I know? I wasn't a trained operator.

Apparently neither was he, because he took off at high speed and hit a bump on the warehouse floor. The centre of gravity shifted and the printer rolled precariously forward; the rear of the forklift rose high into the air, then crashed back down violently as the unsecured printer fell off the forks, bursting open with an ear-splitting crash and a spray of glass, oil and mechanical parts. The operator fell back into his seat so hard that the impact bounced him back into the air, and he struck his unhelmeted head on the roll cage hard enough to give him a concussion.

For some reason, the business owner had a classic muscle car stored in his garage. I don't know much about cars; all I can tell you is that it was blue and looked sort of like the car they drove on The Dukes of Hazzard. I guess the engine didn't work or there simply wasn't any fuel in the vehicle, because one worker had to steer while four or five others pushed. Unfortunately, the man steering didn't do a very good job, scraping the car's side along a support beam to create a huge dent and a long gash in the door. The business owner himself arrived on the scene just in time to witness this accident, and he wasn't happy.

Then came the last straw. I was one of a few workers asked to stay on for some additional weeks at the new warehouse, presumably because I hadn't destroyed anything or injured myself too badly to continue working. Our first job was to set up the shelving system - the same one that had already proven so dangerous at the first jobsite.

I've already mentioned that the metal shelving frames were very tall. They were also very heavy. The frames were lying on the floor, and our job was to lever them upright. Four of us were positioned at the base of the frame, and another four, many metres away, at the tip. Those at the tip walked forward, gradually lifting that end of the frame higher and higher into the air. Of course, as they walked toward those of us holding the base, more and more of the weight at the tip was unsupported. As the centre of gravity moved, we all found it harder and harder to hold onto the frame; the more the angle steepened, the harder it got. Once the frame stood perpendicular to the floor, we had to hold it in place while another team repeated the process with a second vertical frame. Only then could other workers lock the horizontal frame pieces into place, giving the structure some measure of stability.

We repeated this process several times, but eventually our tired muscles couldn't hold. We levered another frame into place, but we couldn't hold it perpendicular. The top swayed back and forth dizzily as we struggled to hang on, but in just a few seconds I felt the frame slipping from my grip, tipping over. We screamed at everyone to get out of the way of the falling hunk of metal, trying to hang on to give people time to escape. The frame hit the cement floor so hard that we felt the vibrations through our feet, and the clang of impact made our ears ring for several minutes. If that frame had hit anyone, they would have been killed.

That was enough for me. I walked to the foreman's office and gave notice. Six months later I had a much safer job, where the worst danger would turn out to be a possibly rabid bat...ah, but that's another story.

Stop! In the Name of Snow...Before You Break My Car

This morning I drove this far, and no further. Our residential street hasn't been plowed at all this winter, and today's melting temperatures turned an already difficult-to-traverse road into a hill impossible to climb for my little car. To make matters worse, when I phoned AMA, a prerecorded message informed me that AMA would not be towing anyone stuck on one of Edmonton's side streets. I have to admit, that took me off guard - what am I paying my membership fees for, if not for situations like this? To be fair, they connected me with a towing company and told me to keep the receipt "for reimbursement at the AMA rate." Maybe they'll cover the whole cost, but it sounds more like I might get a small portion refunded.

I'm not going to slam the city for not having this street graded yet; after all, this is a record-breaking year for snowfall. Still, I hope the plows will get to my neck of the woods soon. Today I waited over six hours for a tow, messing up my workday and causing me to miss a meeting that I was looking forward to. Yes, I worked from home and phoned in for the meeting, but still.

I'm just glad this happened today and not yesterday, the biggest day of the year for folks working in politics. I would have hated to be stuck on the sidelines for that.

Exit Ed Stelmach

Alberta Premier Ed Stelmach won't run for office again, throwing Alberta politics into an even unsteadier state of flux. But that's okay; change is the lifeblood of democracy, and now 2011 will be a very exciting year for our province, with new ideas from every party and politician competing to determine our collective future.

As a past candidate for provincial office - in fact, I ran against Ed in the 2008 election as the Alberta Liberal candidate for Fort Saskatchewan-Vegreville - it's tough to be objective about the man. I can say without hesitation that I admire his public service; being a politician can be a pretty rough job, and he stuck it out for a quarter-century, doing what he believed was best for the province of Alberta. Maybe this sounds like boilerplate politeness, but it's true. I'll never forget getting lost in the House of Commons back in 1987; I happened to walk past Joe Clark's office and he had his head in his hands, clearly agonizing over issues that could determine the fate of millions of people. That kind of responsibility can't be easy for anyone, no matter what their political stripe.

I was a little disappointed that the Premier didn't show up to debate me and the other candidates at the election forum in Fort Saskatchewan, but I didn't make an issue of it; as the leader of a provincial party in an admittedly safe seat, he had bigger fish to fry. Perhaps my political instincts were way off base, but I didn't think I'd gain anything by calling the Premier out. (On the other hand, given the election results, surely he could have spared a day to face a public grilling from his constituents, just as the other candidates did. Hindsight is 20-20, of course.)

I met the Premier only once, at the 2009 press gallery Christmas party. I introduced myself and he was kind enough to pose for the photo above, despite our ideological differences. I thought that was very gracious.

Albertans will form their opinions of Ed Stelmach's legacy based on their own ideological preferences. As a progressive sort who believes that government is (or can be) good, I strongly support public institutions such as schools, libraries, public health care and a social safety net for the disadvantaged. As one of the Deep Six social/fiscal conservatives and as a cabinet minister, Premier Stelmach was responsible for many of the program cuts that have, in my view, harmed Alberta for the long term, and more importantly, harmed many Albertans, some of them quite vulnerable. Those who feel that eliminating the debt as quickly as possible was Alberta's biggest concern will, of course, have a different view.

I won't speculate on what Premier Stelmach's sudden departure means for the Alberta Liberals or any other party. People deeply involved in politics obsess over this sort of thing, but in the end Albertans will collectively decide who will represent them in the Legislature, and who will lead them as Premier. At this point, only one thing is certain: it won't be Ed Stelmach.

Earl's Amazing Mad Science Adventures #4

This is one of my favourite Mad Science Adventures. When I first saw how Michael Gushue interpreted my script, I cried out in delight, for it was as ridiculously over-the-top as I'd hoped. I was particularly tickled by the Star Trek bedsheets. Naturally, I do not actually have Star Trek bedsheets.

Game of Hunger Games

"Look," Sylvia said, "I have the second book in the Hunger Games series!"

I took the book in hand, eyes on the cover. "'Catching Fire,'" I read.  "Ooo! Does any one catch fire?" 

"No," Sylvia said. "It's a metaphor."

Disappointed, I raised my fists over my head with an air of wounded melodrama.

"Metaphors have no place in literature!" I said. Then I smiled, pleased with myself. "Hey, that's kind of clever, isn't it?"

"Very amusing," she replied in the tone of a wife long used to her husband's eccentricities. And then off she went with her book.

Going Off the Rails

In 1983, my drama class created a music video for Ozzy Ozbourne's heavy metal hit "Crazy Train." Our interpretation was somewhat literal; we pretended to be on a train, and at the appropriate moment we went off the rails, going crazy. I'm at the far right, looking away from the camera.

I desperately wish I had a copy of the video. I apparently had the foresight to label the photo, though: in the shot with me are Kelly Newman (far left, raising chair) Darren last name unknown (also hefting chair), Sherry Thompson (blonde closest to camera), Marshall Smith (behind Sherry), Neil Zastre (behind Marshall), and Angela Mandrich (the blonde in front of me).

I have no idea what any of these folks are doing nowadays, but if any of you stumble across this blog and have a copy of the video, I'd love to chat and get a duplicate.

I also wish I could remember our drama teacher's name, for it was he who suggested that I audition for an acting role in a CBC pilot about divorce. I read for the part, but I wasn't chosen; instead, the producers asked me to serve as one of the co-hosts. That, however, is another story...

Meet David Swann