What people do on bikes

I live downtown. With rising fuel prices, combined with the downtown city living lifestyle, many people in the core tend to use bikes to get around. Lately though, some of the things I've observed on bikes is getting out of hand. I was driving to work (uptown, not bikeable unless you're a maniac) and the cyclist in front of me was in a full suit and in his right hand, clutched firmly on the handlebars, was a huge bouquet of tropical flowers. I guess his heart was in the right place, but I wondered if he was jeopardizing his life because of lack of control on the bike. With this in mind, are the flowers really worth it?

There's also a slightly worrying trend of the downtown ladies to cycle in full skirts and heels. Somehow I'm not even surprised when I see this going on anymore. Indecent exposure is apparently not enough to scare them into skorts! I worry that the heels could somehow get stuck and the control of the two-wheeled vehicle could be compromised.

And these random acts of cycling are just the beginning. What's next? I've seen cyclists on cell phones (not even on headsets, full out holding a phone to the ear), groceries being precariously hung from the front handle bars...

I personally have a hard time with cars in general. I was hit by a car some years ago and am still scared of them hitting me again. Because I have the memory of the trauma that affected on my body and I'm never going to forget that. Only two years ago when NI was dating a drumming Brazilian guy, he used to cycle all over the city with his drums carefully tied onto the back of his bike. He eventually convinced me to tune up the bike a former colleague had given me and one day I biked to the World Cup final in Little Italy. On the way home, I was crossing Queen Street and my tire got stuck in the streetcar tracks. I was thrown over the front wheel and into oncoming traffic, who luckily, didn't hit me. A kind lady who was waitressing at the restaurant on the corner, picked me up, sat me down and put a glass of water into my shaking hands. I haven't really had the urge to ride downtown since. I'd rather walk.

A severe case of travel-itis

It's late. The Kooks just played Jimmy Kimmel. I do like their new disc. It's good.

But it's not the TV that is distracting me. I'm in planning mode. When I lived in London some years ago, my roommates and I used to spend many hours in the University of Westminster's many computer labs. We'd play this game of who can get the best deal - flights, hotels, hostels, secret beaches, wonderful diversions in Europe. It's how I ended up going to Carnival in Venice, so it's a pretty wonderful game! You can allow yourself to play in Europe because London is a gateway city and in mere minutes and hours, for rather little money, you can hop over to a brand new and equally seductive European destination.

My family is meeting in Montpellier for a barging trip in July. While I'm excited about this idea - truth be told, I've had fanciful ideas about a trip like this for years - I do wonder if it will result in family members being tossed overboard. I haven't lived with them in over 11 years, so how will a week on a barge in France work out? And we will be 7 of us, which includes one of my Grans. Anyway, worries aside, I'm looking at destinations to hit after I de-boat. (I've always loved the term de-plane but its boating equivalent doesn't really work as well, does it?!)

I was temped to re-visit Portugal - perhaps go to Lagos in the Algarve. I have done some of the Algarve, but didn't quite make it to Lagos - although the Australian surfer Su and I rescued spent two months there, so I assume it's an ok place. I then ended up looking at Valencia, or even one of the Balearic islands. Will I be ready to dance my French frustrations away in Ibiza or will I want to be on the highly rated topless island beaches of Formentera? Or what if I looked to the Amalfi Coast and vacationed on the island of Capri? More fashionable? Then I happened upon the info that there is an air ticket from Montpellier direct to Casablanca. I've never been to Africa, and even just a taste of the north could be something different.

Hmmm. Will decide soon.

sometimes when you work too hard you can't even write, so I'm going to let the music speak for itself

the kanye west fireworks appreciation society

As part of my ongoing commitment to enjoying the city I live in, me and my friend Jesse have been organizing soul-filling 'outings'. So far, I've taken him to the wonderful Cherry Blossom picnic put on by the folks at Promise. If you've never been, make a mental note to go next year. It's basically an afternoon in High Park where DJ's play a meditative selection of ambient electronic music as you lay on blankets under the gorgeous and fragrant cherry blossom trees in one of the city's best parks. It's actually a tradition of the Japanese - who, as you can imagine, celebrate their traditional cherry blossom in a similar fashion every year. It's been a while since I was that relaxed.

Tonight, the outing led to meeting at the Humber bridge. I've always loved that bridge. I rollerblade over it throughout the summer and it has a special kind of energy, not to mention an iconic architectural design. Our crew met up and walked through the butterfly habitat (noting that we were a little ripped off as there are no wildflowers yet in the wildflower field yet) past the improvised inukshuk rock structures, and as the sun was setting, into the small island like park in the lake. We found a lovely spot away from any lights, and near the overwhelming full moon that at one point was glowing an ominous orange. Our blanket neighbours soon moved in with a child whose attention was not on the fireworks over the water, but on his little sparkler that he was waving around like a maniac. Salima and I kept having "vancouver revisited" moments where we were almost certain that the lake was the ocean (save the telltale salty smell) and the etobicoke condos was actually a yaletown backdrop.

I made a stupid Kanye West reference about his glow in the dark tour, because nearby there were kids with glow in the dark headbands, and it reminded me of the P-Diddy sanctioned tour that I'd heard about recently. The fireworks began and we started naming them - there was the Tina Turner, the classic, Jesse's favorite ones were the more free Jazz experimental type bursts, the science centre ones (another Vancouver reference for you)...

Something about being able to enjoy the night sky, even being able to see the little dipper above us with some clarity, the blankets, and the good company, filled the soul to a level I hadn't felt in a while. Good way to end a long weekend!

midnight angels

Going to India in 2004 was the best decision I ever made in my life. Aside from seeing the beauty in the people, the way the country still manages to move forward even as they are driving on the lines rather than between them, the trip was well worth it because I met a girl called Malini.

Malz is the type of person who has boundless energy. She's a radio host, media personality, and writes a social column in a local daily. India is obsessed with celebrity, so being in the middle of it takes a lot of patience and drive. She recently started this new segment of her show called Midnight Angels. It's a way of spreading good karma to the world. The concept is simple. With many voices, much can be accomplished. Using her forum of radio and sites like facebook and the like - Malz challenges the many members to accomplish certain easy tasks. Some discussions are simple things that may make a big difference; just yesterday, one person brought up the fact that they had too many plastic bags in their house, and what could we do to recycle them effectively. A recent challenge that Malini put forward was to suprise someone with a gift. Sounds easy, right? Sounds like something you should already be doing? But are you doing it? Did you? If a group of people is bothering to spend time putting good karma into the world, will it matter more? Will it make more of an impact?

Whatever the result, I have to say I'm glad Malini exists. Just the simple idea of trying to make life better is worth living for. When I was in that country, we suffered the boxing day tsunami. Even though I was on the west coast in Mumbai, it was devastating to think that entire villages were simply gone. There were towns that just didn't exist anymore after those waves. And knowing that the infrastructure of India wasn't built to withstand anything like that natural disaster, was part of the horrible truth of the story. Yet the government refused aid, saying that of all the countries in the area, they were the largest, with the biggest economy and that the aid should be given to countries in dire need. It wasn't a western reaction that I was used to. There were certainly people who could have used the aid. But the reality of India is that there are always people who need help there. The huge gap that divides the super rich from the super poor is astounding and hard to understand. Then you begin to realize that because of the many strict religious beliefs that involve caste systems and such, that some of these people will never ever leave this country. Some of these people will never ever know that there is a reality different from theirs. And on the other side of the coin is that for most of them, life is not that bad. Even the poorest people wear their brightly coloured fabrics and show off their wedding jewelry.

Maybe it's some of those differences that I see in Malini. Her energy is so pure, and so sure-footed, it's possibly one of the furthest things from western culture that I see. There is no cynicism.

I'll be looking for someone to surprise with my midnight angel challenge tomorrow. Bringing a little Indian hope to Canada...

Pool pals

I made a promise to myself to give myself Sundays. Like the name of the band - I'm taking back sundays. It's my day, I choose. Lately, I've chosen to begin the day by swimming at my community centre pool. This week was great. I have a new pool pal. I had been in the pool dutifully lapping back and forth for about 20 minutes when my new friend joined in. I can't even tell how old he is - but he's likely Italian - or from Eastern Europe. Sometimes I can't understand a word he says - but I just smile and continue doing the laps until our next encounter between laps. What really made him my pal was his comment that I was improving and that I'm getting quite good - better than last week. Something about this unasked opinion of a quiet observer was really nice. Getting back into swimming is hard. The first week I got in the pool, i actually thought perhaps it would be nice if someone just came and killed me. And that was only after 10 minutes. But it's true what they say - it's a great workout and you feel it all over. And it's almost musical too. I find that the rhythm and sounds of the swishing water is almost hypnotic and calming.

My old Italian pal has got to be over 60 and he's definitely a regular. He wears these crazy white hand paddle things - perhaps to help him get some speed in his swim. He's very old fashioned too - he brought up what I was doing Monday, and I said no swimming, and his response was perhaps I was going to be cooking all day. Yes, perhaps if I was Italian, but unfortunately I'm British by birth. And you know their reputation for international cuisine!