I’ve known something was potentially up with my storage locker since late Tuesday afternoon, when a binner told me that Vancouver Police had cordoned-off the alley-side entrance to the East Vancouver building where my locker is located. I immediately emailed the storage locker company but no reply was forthcoming.
So at 11:10 a.m. today (August 24) I found myself standing on one side of a yellow caution tape barrier and yelling at a Vancouver Police officer who was standing on the other side and cradling a rather dangerous-looking assault rifle.
The officer yelled back that no, he couldn’t say what was happening with my storage locker. A media release would be issued soon, he shouted at me politely.
The place where I was standing was in the alley on the north side of the 100 block of 7th Avenue. The caution tape I was pressed up against was blocking off the alley-side parkade entrance to Guardian Storage, where I’ve had a locker since 2004. Read more…
August the 15 I was gifted with a new backpacking stove (and one propane canister).
Earlier I had posted on my Twitter account how I was saving up for such a thing and another Twitter user generously offered to buy it for me and I didn’t refuse.
In essence, the tiny CDN$44 MRS Pocket Rocket is little more than a high-precision adjustable brass and steel valve for dispensing compressed gas from squat little $8 screw-on propane canisters. The “little more” would be how it’s designed for igniting the dispensed gas and cooking things over the resulting super hot, ice-blue flame. There are three swing-out steel vanes to support a cooking pot just above the business end of the stove.
Therefore, on Sunday evening (August 21), armed with my little stove and a squat canister of propane, I had almost everything I needed to take advantage of the unopened bag of hard-frozen heat-and-serve perogies that I found in the topmost strata of a Fairview dumpster; everything, that is, except a pot to heat them up in.
This post is actually more about how I conjured up the pot that I needed, in less than a third of the time that I spent using it to heat up the perogies. Read more…
This morning I was distressed to see that one of the crew at the McDonald’s location in the 1400 block of West Broadway Avenue had accidentally poured boiling hot water on her left hand. The distressing thing was just how bloody and disfigured the top of her left hand looked through the thin plastic of the disposable glove she was wearing.
But what looked, at first glance, like a raw red wound was actually three or four slices of tomato that she’d laid over the burn.
This, she explained, was a home remedy she’d learned growing up in the Philippines.
For my part, growing up in the developed and enlightened country of Canada—specifically in Saskatchewan, the home of medicare—I learned no such thing. I was taught to put butter on a burn.
In this case, the Philippines knew far better than the Canadian Prairies. Read more…
Prior to reading William Gibson’s 1986 science fiction novel Count Zero, my only exposure to the art of assemblage was a shoebox diorama of the Cretaceous period featuring an obligatory triceratops dinosaur, which I made in grade four, using cardboard, paper, white glue, tempera paint and Saran wrap.
Part of Count Zero is a meditation on—and an appreciation of—American artist Joseph Cornell, the man most responsible for making the creation of box assemblages a fit task for fine artists and public school students alike. Read more…
Overnight apparently, a crack team of…well, crackheads possibly, assailed one of the last payphones in the Fairview neighbourhood and put it out of commission—for, like, the 8,oooth time.
In the course of the vandalism, the pedestal base of the payphone was targeted and the front facing sheet of aluminum, held on by four tiny bolts, was ripped free at three points. This exposed some of the phone’s highly-sophisticated 1970s-era electrical system and further revealed a hidden secret that some people, at least, might get a charge out of knowing about. Read more…
A new thing has appeared about half to two-thirds of the way east along the south sidewalk of the 1400 block of West Broadway Avenue. I’m referring to the chromed-steel cigarette butt disposal tube newly bolted to the sidewalk beside the trash can at the 99 B-Line bus stop.
Some nicotine-addicted bus riders appear to at least be trying to bung their butts into this city-provided receptacle. This morning (August 11) I saw two or three cigarette butts littered around the base of the thing.
There are potentially a few things going against the success of the city’s locked ashtray in this location. Firstly, it faces stiff competition from the large, easier-to-use, sand-filled ashtray, conveniently located just steps away in front of the entrance to Joey on Broadway, a popular upscale watering hole.
Secondly, this is Fairview, not the Central Business District. As homeless smokers will tell you, the 1400 block of West Broadway Avenue is never exactly teeming with cigarette butt litter.
And thirdly, because it’s a heavily-trafficked bus stop and because of the aforementioned covered ashtray in front of the Joey bar, homeless smokers in the area frequently check the spot and remove any fat butts in order to recover the tobacco.
However, another binner tells me that the cigarette butt receptacle in the 1400 block (which turned up about four days ago) is one of several that has appeared in the South Granville area, each bolted down beside a city curbside trash container near a bus stop. Read more…