The Olympics Are Over.

So I don’t know how many of the readers have ever been in Canada during a gold medal ice hockey game – and been cheering for the wrong team – and lived to tell about it – so here, this is it.

I’m done.

Never again I said, will the moment be so beautiful downtown. So patriotic on the Skytrain. So much managed happiness.

This can’t be my last Vancouver 2010 Olympic tagged post! Already?

No notes during the Game (spoiler alert: Canada wins.) It’s Crosby’s moment. As I sat meditating, I saw white Helvetica numbers being formed, too true, too much, the night before, so I closed my eyes and waited for Sidney Crosby to score on us in overtime, which I also predicted.

As the sun came out in Vancouver, shining into our house, the party from Cole Harbour, NS, is broadcast to us as the Legend of the Young Kid Grows.

Ahh ok and I finally hit my CTV limit soon after the interview with Crosby.
Thank you to NBC for the intervention there with the 6-5 hockey.
With the Nash interview, the announcer comes out and professes it: “Everyone in
Canada has an attachment to everybody.”

“It was going to happen all along,” I write.
Do I really care that much?
I know I would love.

But there is something palpable in the air and it is driving my soul. It is, partly, a personal end to things, but, is the energy gone? I have an epiphany.

“Everyone here loves to watch hockey – but – if it matters – how many (and yes I’m speaking to you) are actually players in rainy Vancouver? (i.e. this man sitting next to me on the couch), I would probably throw a punch he’s had a few beers but so obnoxious man … give it a rest. I feel like I could school all these hockey-watchers on the ice, Canadian or not. Call up my “boys.” Drop the puck.

Enough.

A Chevrolet commercial: “Here’s to making history.”
Coca-Cola: “Now they know whose game it is.”

I’m back to observing this worthless stuff, getting wrapped up in it; madness only because of this one person spoiling the entire mood of the game, he’s got no idea. Literally the first person I’ve disliked in two months and he’s stuck next to me on a couch pouf for two hours, blocking my view of the most beautiful Montrealer I have ever had the chance to see. She was exuding it, concordia salus, and I refuse to let the Olympics come down to one game. I refused to let this man’s negative energy ruin my experience or the day.

I try communicating that with Nick, he catches on, “ok, we’re out,” and finally back to the outside, back to celebration.

Cars are honking all around me walking down Kingsway. Even the trains make a Canadian harmony as they come to a stop .. the passengers get rowdier the further west we go … and I swear Bryan Williams was on drugs for most of the Games. That guy is a machine.

Negative energy derived from me, too. Lack of a phone. Impending credit card fraud. But now I’m caught up, you see.

The party, the sport, the spectacle. Most, just pixels. For Americans at this point, angry at the loss, what’s the difference between Canadian red and Russian Red?

I knew the Canadians were going to win – their hearts were on their hands, they were here for the spirit, they knew it, just as the advertisements told them to do.

Olympics over, closing ceremonies are spotted in the Choices market looking for Zenith. I guess there was a clown?

Not much to dwell on?

Burnaby Poetry

Burnaby Poetry

“Wake up in the morning
flirt, glance, touch, Love in the bed.
Only for a moment -- off to work.
Saying all emotions from within
Holding nothing back.”

“Art on the walls and
taking a shower of
the mind and humidity.
Air dry
Run in the nude – we’re out of towels.”

“Capilano art
For each reaction
is stupored morn.”

“Apples become apples.
First kiss at seven
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth,
Remember compliments,
Keep love.
[Sunscreen].
Work hard to bridge the gaps.
Mic attenuation.”

“I’m going to argue
that there is a shorter than short memory.
It’s like a loop.”

To keep it domestic,
we head to Al, from International Foods
Edmonds Street, whip a meal together on a budget.
“Live each day to the fullest,” he says after directing us to curry sauce. –
“Live honest” our vegetable saleswoman says, down the street
a forgotten standard in the lives of young.
And foremost, to “be interesting,”
So poems will be written about you,
Years later to be found scrawled and dusty.”

“Lamb curry to really feel the cosmos flying through,
as everything is expensive in Canada, me, am I ready for a shot?”
“Hell yeah.”
Always debating the impending shot, of Grant’s Scotch, I,
-- (but not Lisa) (my dear I’m writing you a love letter on 30 August) Is “out of control before I’ve left.”

On the train now, in brackets, instructions for editors.
[Write your happiest thought…]
The plan backfires, blah blah Granville Street you were so cool
Ten damn days ago with all your wild madness, really; then,
I felt like I needed no home nor direction and was content
A woman and companionship amongst throngs of red and white
So that is why things went wrong, Victoria.
I cannot ever capture the energy that it was the first time.
Only policemen doing “voluntary pour-outs” and the art tonight.
You’re the first, Victoria, to write for me.
“Right now, a glass of water.”
Willy, “Being surrounded by some seriously respectable friends.”
Hugo – “I found that Anna was my friend Shawn’s GF’s sister! So crazy!”
Shaq: “Balloons look swell when they float away.”
Some unintelligible drunk writing; typical Skytrain.
Two people professing thoughts of happiness in German.
For me, [never again] as the happiest thought.

“Did any of this make sense to you Victoria?
I regain energy from you but all I wanted to do
Was steal a kiss but it seems to hard to find
Ten seconds of time when you are not to be
In proximity of the old new man.
What was his deal anyways.”

February 26

# 6 - Be A crazy dumbsaint of the mind.

Things could get poetic here -- you're aptly warned.

February 26, 2010. Happy Birthday to me. Twenty-two years of age and digging life.

From the SeaBus (a dawn breaks in the background behind this very text) this time with Nick and we’re headed to meet some women as part of our journey from Whistler to Vancouver on the Olympic Bus Network.

No way to describe the night before in full, a Youtube upload is pending.

Earlier today Nick wakes me up – a dreamless sleep in Squamish after digging that beautiful brown eyed-girl.

Coffee and bread, hastily, before Dylan drives us to Walmart for the Bobsleigh Men’s 4; we receive a second set of tickets for free from one of the hosts so I inform Eryn and Jenna of this delightful news…

Bobsleigh cannot be captured in little black books. The basic gist is that USA Sled 1 was ahead after the first two runs.

Back to the SeaBus. Girls are blowing up the iPhone from Couchsurf, we’re getting excited to meet the Intrigue (“think about what I’m wearing,” one’s voicemail implores). Turns out to be Lindsay, Becca, Zenith. We’re headed en route to Coal Harbour, Vancouver; bootlegged some whiskey … $45 for a 2.6 … and settle into Mario Kart and Always Sunny. It’s BC, another delivery is made, so much is happening so quickly, Becca then leaves for Toronto, happiness is taken.

To describe the Olympics?
“It’s all been a blur.”

Prepare for poetry as everyone in the room calls home and “explains their love” to their brother.

“I’m sorry my love, but I’ve broken from writing for myself.
I agree with what you think, no matter your views, I saw it instantaneously, love, probably at second sight.”

“The octopus has entered.
There is tension in the stomach.
Less is more with you; I get knots in my stomach trying ESP.
We say something, flowers in spring?”

Matt Baer, what are you doing right now? (Editors note: not poetry).

“It’s your birthday. We’re not going to let you hook up with ugly girls. What is your anti-type?”

“No fake breasts and no men.”

Type?

“Norwegians. Competitive. Brunette. Brown-eyed.”

Ok.

Poetry from Lindsay.
“So I normally don’t like to be under a microscope,
but since you’re so shiny
I will accept it.
Maybe – one day.”

(Editor's note two: Look at my handwriting when the time comes. It is Perfect). I call Joseph, briefly, for perhaps three seconds of airtime. I love him and all of my family for supporting me and loving all aspirations …

"Define enlightenment," I ask.

“Right now,” Nick says.

“Stomach in knots, (I'm speaking with Zenith)
all undone.
No more worries.”

“I don’t feel anything, I’ll take it all back.
Everything is in tune.
There is glitter on the table. So I had no direction.”

I wrote that you lost the game, my love.
"A smile is all it takes, as “it’s Will’s birthday" justifies all,
“All writing is precise” I respond back, non-sequitur-like.

All is god [sic] as Dylan has arrived.

“I don’t have an identity,” she says to me ...

I’ve taken to the lav, looking at myself in the mirror at 22.
Am I in delay mode? All I know: talking to myself without speaking, gentle glares into the mirror, is exceptional.

“Sleep is coming down. Don’t keep glittering,
for I cannot say what I wish aloud to you.
Along the lines of, “I like Canada but I am not a Canadian,”
All in perfect harmony and rhythm as we sing mind songs to one another.”

"Welcome To Canada Hockey Place."

Empty your pockets.
Open your coats ...
and have bags ready for inspection.

Prohibited:
...Pepper Spray
...Public incitement of hatred
...willful promotion of hatred

Through security about 11:15. Official Hockey Programs vendor says he's sold approximately 2000 of them himself.

11:30 and I'm the only one in Suite 214.

Taylor and Ryan eventually walk in.

Canada Hockey Place - the exterior. Aqueous reflections off of the mirror.



Russian pin trader. Everyone's looking to make a buck.



How much accreditation do you have? Venue = CHP = Canada Hockey Place; Access Codes: IH = Ice Hockey, IN = All Indoor Sport Venues, Infinity Symbol = All Sport Venues, ALL = All Sport Venues (No Prime Access though), Ticket holders.



Gotta love the Swiss. Neutrality, even with the wave.

Either the Norwegians (Norvége, French) cheer louder or there are more of them here. My suitemates pitch on a six-pack of Ricards, enjoy it throughout the game. When people see you writing and asking questions they ask, "Are you a journalist?"

"Yes."

"Excellent."

Goes on selling 50/50 Raffle Tickets.

But the essence is the discussion on what's bringing us all together today. The simple answer: VANOC. Tickets; connections through higher-ups, people who know. "Friends with halfpipe credentials, helping them out, World Cup Events, accreditation in general. Working for VANOC for 1 1/2 years helps too."

One suitemate (another Aussie) is a carpenter, Sam, he's from Melbourne. Work picked up for him with people who wanted to spend money renovating their suites for a "sense of security" and to up the costs of their sublet.

Seeing the Games in Sydney (2004) helped too.
"It just hit me at Christmas" one says. The Games had finally begun to arrive after all that time. "In Sydney, we heard all the hype, the pros and cons, and a lot of good things came of it."

Including, in their perspective, a greater sense of Canadian pride.
"Pride had been lacking - in the last few weeks - flags, colors - it's good to see."

The Swiss win; a great game with overtime. I wonder about the human collective conscious and the energy of sport...



I wanna ride ... the Olympic ... Zamboni. Even they must wear the Smurf Suit.

A weak, to most standards, sounding horn ends the warmup period. Team 2010 collects the pucks, two zambonis go, above is one.

The lens which you see the majority of the action.



Canadian Merchant as Sochi 2014 looms for its moment in the background; taking over the Science Centre.



The sun sets on the beach -- with hundreds of impromptu inukshuks assembled by visitors.



The shine of the Olympics wears off quickly in some parts of Vancouver ... I'm heading southbound on Main Street.

Visions of Vancouver's Main Street tomorrow.

Lifestyle: Adventuring into the City –

A finite film on the windows of the car, we depart at 17:30 from Squamish – it is three women and myself, heading to Vancouver. Naturally as a member of this type of party I hear some gossip, attempt to resolve some issues they are facing with men, and generally attempt humor whenever it is necessary with careful wording.

There are goals of seeing Wilco perform for free in Yaletown. Other than that it is an excuse to get out of little Squamish and into the big city – to learn its streets, geography and flavor.

I’m wearing a misleading “OBS/Host Broadcasting Service” jacket as we stand in line having finally found a free, close (but slightly leery) place to park – right next to the impound lot and behind a tow-truck. On the way we stopped in a ramp that was demanding $34.50 for six hours of parking – not happening – so we too off down Richards Street, past the Hudson Bay Company (at one point earlier in the day protestors had broken a window or two and glass repair was in progress) and the red and white – no blue – of the Canadian hockey jerseys in the street, filing out after a women’s lopsided 18-0 victory over Slovakia, or maybe Slovenia.

Definitely Slovakia, the notes say. All sorts of people near David Lam Park – a girl from Greece (Kalamata), young people, the line moves forward, we go through metal detectors, the C21 bus goes by…

Observations for those afar, mostly.

Once inside, as it rains on those gathered to watch the medal’s presentation on the giant Panasonic screens to the right and left of the LiveCity stage, we (they) grab food from “Taste of India” (instead of “ Canada/Jamaica/China/Italy/Greece), all I ask for is a copy of their menus but they look at me funny.

Wilco goes on promptly at 21:00; I’m losing interest by 21:50 so I wander to the Panasonic, Acer, and Samsung tents – a few of the Worldwide Olympic Partners. Panasonic does the television aspect, Samsung has the phones, Acer – the computers. All three are a step into a techno-music-bumping futuristic world of what the latest technology is, and what will be, I guess, but phrases like “Your tomorrow – delivered today” make me a bit ill.

Wilco wraps up their performance, no encore.

The fireworks rock, and make up for the Wilco songs I don’t know, and for those few that I did.

Canada 2010: What is, and what was

The Olympics begin today, for me, just like everyone else. I’ll see the Opening Ceremony on television in PST – the first time I’ll be in the same time zone as an Olympic event.

I’ll be in Whistler during the Opening Ceremonies, watching on a Panasonic television in the Uniform Distribution Wait Room – a television donated as part of being a worldwide Olympic partner.

I partially know what is coming; the dress rehearsal was comprised of most of what people will see – some things, naturally, like the entrance of the athletes and speeches of important people cannot be done as stand-ins. The flame will be lit, the Games will begin.

People will be commenting, Twittering, Facebooking, LinkedIn-ing – I’m not sure the breadth of it all, or what will be said, or impressions – I’ll be active with some of that too, I’m sure.

Right now I’m writing free-form, coming up with something to make the connection I’ve been striving for – this is not a first impression piece, or one from notes to The Midwest Perspective, just an attempt to make a connection to those following this one blip amongst all of the others.

Tired of that, I switch to my initial Whistler Observations from the first day I arrived. The best:

// “The place is a warzone. Howitzer blasts for avi control mix with Miga, Sumi and Muk Mukk.”

“3.5 billion (television viewers) will conclude that, from West Vancouver to Whistler, lies the recreational capital of the world. 3.5 billion people will conclude that Canada is everyone’s dream and our reality.”

“Blenz Coffee Shop; randomly waiting for Accreditation and Uniform Distribution in two hours. New snow on the mountain.”

“Think: what can I do to deliver stories back to MN being here?” “…Emerging themes: Signs of globalization – hydrogren busses”

“Two iPhones [one per person] are replaced by one iPhone and new Macbook by a man in artsy glasses, drinking tea and biscotti, complete with teapot. My little Verizon phone seems so inadequate but so relieving.”

“…biscotti dropped awkwardly”

“…and to Tapley’s in Whistler to watch the Vikings and Cowboys – Vikings up 7-3.”

“The worst is that one has to pay to sit or do anything – soup, ginger ale, etc.”

“In the correct place for gentrification as I am by far the youngest person here.”

//

Re: Pedal to the Floor

..."BC" was no longer a figment on a map for us but a reality of place. British Columbia, for those of you who haven't been, has a different Canadian vibe than that of Ontario -- the Canadian essence, if you will, is still captured but you can sense that the BC folk are clearly a northerly extension of West Coast Thought.

Then, recollections from journals, "we are trying to do it a cheaply as possible - the "dirtbag" approach as Fischer has called it. The drive up Highway 99 from Vancouver to Squamish was unlike anything I've ever seen before. It is literally one of the more spectacular drives as a driver that I have ever seen -- towering mountains across Howe Sound and right along the road, and then water which stretches the 60 or so kilometers from Vancouver. The afternoon light was just perfect."

So much, so quickly to capture for our four-day bouldering trip. On our "rest day," I spent most of the time recording most of this into a journal near the RBC overlooking Cleveland Ave, the main drag of downtown Squamish.

July 5- Sitting at the corner of Cleveland Ave/Winnipeg St, at the Squamish City Center during some fingertip regeneration time. The insurance building is to my left, blocking the view to anything further north. Look east are mountains (straight ahead) as I sit on a little bench with the Grand Wall further to my right. A precipitious mountain is to my right with snow still on the peak. Cam is in the Vanagon in the parking lot ahead of me and my coffee is nearly gone. Time do be done for now."

There is much to tell about, link to you, and think about in this second trip to this amazing town.

I hope my journalism/blogging will keep you interested and informed during the Vancouver 2010 Winter Games come and go, quickly, there is a lot to talk about; I'm steering as far away from an "I/we" -- based experience as possible for everyone -- let me know if I'm failing.

Pondering even the method of travel to Canada: A two-and-a-half day trainride though Canada versus a three hour flight from Minneapolis to Seattle ... followed days later by a three and a half hour drive north -- brings perspective new and definitely refreshing... that's maybe one point of "departure" to narrate this experience.