Reducing Poverty in B.C.

This morning, I received this email from the BC Poverty Reduction Coalition. I’ve abridged it for space, but if you’re interested in reducing poverty in BC, the forum looks interesting. I’ve had the privilege of having worked with some of the panel members and I know it will make for an interesting and compelling evening.

Public Health Association of BC – “Urban Poverty, Health, and a Sustainable Future - Is Time Running Out”

The Poverty Reduction Coalition is co-presenting a free community forum in Vancouver with the Public Health Association of B.C.

What: "Urban Poverty, Health, and Sustainable Futures - Is Time Running Out?"
When: Monday, November 23rd, 7-9PM
Where: St. Andrews-Wesley Church, 1022 Nelson St., Vancouver
Admission: Free

The evening will include an opening address “Sustainable and Equitable: the Challenges for Cities in the 21st Century,” presented by Dr. Trevor Hancock. Dr. Hancock is one of the founders of the global healthy cities and communities movement and is a 2008 recipient of the Humanitarian Award from the International Society for Urban Health for his “outstanding contribution to improving the health of urban populations.”

We will also have brief performances by performing arts groups from the Strathcona Community Centre, and the Queer Imaging and Writing Kollective for Elders, Quirk-e.

The Panel includes:
Dr. Trevor Hancock, Health Futurist
Dr. Patty Daly, Chief Medical Health Officer for Vancouver Coastal Health
Dr. Evan Adams, Aboriginal Health Physician Advisor, Office of the Provincial Health Officer
Seth Klein, BC Director for the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives
Judy Grave, Housing Advocate

For more info: info@bcpovertyreduction.ca

Spotted in Vancouver today

Spotted in Vancouver today

Ghostly Vancouver

Tonight I had the opportunity to go on a ghost tour of Gastown.

Despite the coolness of the evening, I enjoyed the two hour walk through the oldest parts of Vancouver. We heard the ghost stories of Gassy Jack, Gaoler’s Mews, Blood Alley, The Landing, Hill’s Gallery, The Dominion Building, Water Street, The Old Spaghetti Factory and Cambie Street.

Our guide Phil, regaled us with some of the more colourful bits of Vancouver’s history. There was one story that really piqued my interest. Back in the 70s the Vancouver Police Department set up a sting operation at the Dominion Hotel. They installed a two-way mirror behind the bar and were able to view, and subsequently arrest, some of Vancouver’s more notorious criminals.

One evening, the staff were enjoying a few drinks after close. There was a sudden noise from behind the two-way mirror and lights flickered on and off. Ostensibly, the room was empty. So they sent a staff member to investigate and what he encountered was a grisly sight.

It was a rat king. The guide explained that a rat king was a phenomena where the tails of several rats become entwined. It was, he said, a bad omen, especially of the plague. Which makes sense, if you have that many rats in one place, it’s likely that they have the fleas that carry the plague.

I was intrigued despite my near-pathological fear of rats. In fact, I am totally creeped out as I type this.

Rat kings are created when the tails become stuck together with blood, dirt, ice, excrement or simply knotted. The animals grow together while joined at the tails and apparently can live quite happily this way. The numbers of rats that are joined together can vary, but naturally rat kings formed from a larger number of rats are rarer.

So it’s almost midnight and I am ready to take my evening bath and go to bed. Wonder what I’ll dream about?

Spotted in Vancouver today

Highway to Hell

My ears are still ringing and the smell of cigarette and pot smoke is still coming out of my pores.

And what Bacchanalian exploit bought me to this sorry state of affairs? I, along with some 60,000 otherwise sane folks spent the evening with AC/DC.

I am very lucky to have a friend who is an avid concert goer and who always manages to get great seats to great shows.

Last night, in a word, was wild. First of all, BC Place was a steaming cesspool. It was crammed, and hot, and smoky and the arena was punctuated with thousands upon thousands of red blinking devil’s horns.


I’ve never seen so many people kicked out of a concert. One girl passed out cold after the second song and had to be carried out. One guy tried to run the ramp that bisected the stadium. He didn’t get far before security tackled him and tossed him out.

To the girl who flashed her girls when she appeared on the Jumbotron, uh, that was interesting. Later we saw her talking to security wearing a skimpy dress that was, um, almost gynecological. Don’t ask me how I knew that.

Angus Young was incredible. His fingers were nimble, deft and light and he gets my vote for the best guitar face ever. He is, without a doubt, the true star of AC/DC.

The show also had some amazing pyrotechnics… fire bombs went off on the stage and during Young’s fifteen-minute guitar solo, smoke bombs went off in a sea of confetti. The one thing I didn’t like was the cannons that were fired during the encore (For those about to rock, we salute you). It was incredibly loud and sounded too much like gunfire or a nasty war battle and not in good way. Scared the shit out of me.

As always, the people-watching was the best thing about the show. The guys to the right of us stripped down to their skins. There were lots of pregnant women in the audience too (were they hoping the cannon shots would help induce labour?). The guy sitting in front of us played a pathetic air guitar. A few seats over, some dufus kept giving everybody a high five.

I wasn’t able to get decent pictures, unfortunately. When I turned my camera on, I discovered my batteries were dead. These pics were taken with my cell phone. I did, however include the Black Ice tour animated intro from the concert. Please note, it’s NSFW.

I am writing you now, just to see if you're better

Yesterday, I went to see Julie/Julia, a movie about chef Julia Child and modern day blogger Julie Powell who attempts to cook every recipe in Child’s classic Mastering the art of French cooking.

To be honest, I wasn’t that interested in the plot of the movie. I was too busy enjoying the sights and food of post-war Paris and laughing at Meryl Streep’s wonderful performance.

It also piqued a bit of nostalgia for me. In several scenes, Julia receives letters. Letters! Handwritten ones! Folded into those thin, red and blue aeropost envelopes, stamped and mailed, to be received with great delight and read with avid interest and treasured for years and years afterwards.

I miss letter writing. I was in my early twenties when Bill Gates predicted every home and business will have a personal computer and it would be a few years before I actually had an email address.

In the meantime I wrote letters to friends and family. I bought birthday cards and mailed them and hoped the birthday boy or girl got in time.

I loved writing letters. I loved pulling out a sheaf of paper and selecting just the right pen. I liked having a stack of letters in my hand and walking over to the post box to drop them off.

Even more, I loved getting letters. I loved looking in the mailbox and seeing coloured envelopes. I loved sitting down with a cup of tea and reading all the news and views.

In high school, I was fascinated by handwriting analysis, and studied it quite extensively. I loved looking at the handwriting in letters, feeling for the pressure the writer put on the paper with pen. Now, I don’t think I even seen the handwriting of most of my friends.

Come to think of it, I rarely handwrite anything anymore.

The ping of my computer telling me I have email or a text message just doesn’t have the same appeal. And it’s disposable. It just doesn't have the endurance of the written letter.

Can you imagine a wedding without a reading from St Paul’s letters to the Corinthians?

Who can forget Napoleon’s request of his wife Josephine? “Dear Josephine,” his letter read. “I will be arriving home in three days. Don't bathe…”

Or the famous letter (or should I say many letters) delivered by owl, inviting Harry Potter to study at the Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? And the letter written by Lily Potter to Sirius Black. Severus Snape, who loved Lily since they were children finds the letter and keeps the last page, the page with her love on it, the page that says “Love, Lily.”

I don’t get letters anymore. Most of the paper stuffed through my mail slot goes directly into the recycle bin.

Sigh.