February 23, 2014
Snow? Are you kidding me ... day two?
Another day. Another day of heavy, wet snow. A good day to stay home and read.
Which is what we did except for a walk around the Langara Golf Course, where we found a snow person complete with a carrot for a nose.
Photos by Jim Murray. Copyright 2014.
Thomas Mulcair ~ at Kwantlen University in Richmond
It wasn't an Orange Wave, nor an Orange Crush, this thing that happened at work last week.
Through the halls of the Richmond Campus, my home campus, there wasn't much notice of "The President's Dialogue" though signs were up.
Thomas Mulcair, Leader of the federal New Democratic Party, and the Official Opposition, visited KPU Richmond this week. It was the first in a series of "dialogues" initiated by KPU President Alan Davis. We don't know who might be part of future "dialogues" but according to Davis, they will be notable and Tom Mulcair was only the first. His visit might possibly be due to the fact that one of Mr Mulcair's early supporters in his leadership bid, and a dedicated member at the executive level, is also an instructor at KPU: Heather Harrison.
The media were out for this event and it all speaks well for Mr Davis and KPU. Mr Davis would like to create a buzz around the University, and himself of course, and he might well be on to something.
Much of the hour was devoted to environmental issues, and Mr Mulcair spoke eloquently and with great substance on the topic. He was articulate and thoughtful in every response to the questions from Mr Davis. In fact, listening to Mr Mulcair I couldn't help but remember another leader from Quebec who spoke with just as much eloquence and with the same sort of intellectual intelligence: Pierre Trudeau.
Mr Mulcair was witty and charming, but most of all he was thoughtful and intelligent; there weren't any simple answers to complex questions, no matter how they were posed, and Mr Mulcair treated his audience with respect. Soundbites were hard to identify; this is not a politician of few words nor simple slogans, and that might be a problem.
At the very beginning, before the introductions and certainly before the media witnessed the event for us to view through their eyes, Tom Mulcair entered the room quietly and without fanfare. A crowd was seated in advance of the "dialogue" and Mr Mulcair walked down every row, introducing himself and shaking hands. Some would have us believe Mr Mulcair lacks charisma, and they might be right. But what is political charisma in a digital world? Is the physical touch still valid in a world where the virtual is the new reality? Where nothing happens unless someone twitters about it? Does style always trump substance, especially in a digital universe? In the case of Mr Mulcair and his message, that would be a shame.
It's going to be a long campaign.
Photos by Jim Murray. Copyright 2014.
February 22, 2014
Snow? Are you kidding me?
It doesn't snow often in Vancouver. Sometimes, maybe in December or January, but not often. Certainly not usually this late in season.
Still, this morning we awoke to a dusting of snow throughout the city and the wet flakes continued to fall into the afternoon. Crocus flowers struggled with their cold white blanket.
Paths at VanDusen Gardens were white when we walked through the park. It was quiet and there were only a few other walkers, though we did see two large coyotes roaming the gardens, perhaps as startled by us as were of them.
The rain will come tonight and the snow will disappear. Spring is coming.
Photos by Jim Murray. Copyright 2014.
February 09, 2014
Beatlemania begins ~ February 09, 1964
The day after the screaming started we were all singing "She Loves You" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The boys were playing air guitars and shaking their heads at appropriate moments, and the girls were imitating the screams they saw the night before. We were little kids caught up in something magical, wonderful and fun, and recess at Assiniboia School in Weyburn, in the snow and cold, was our perfect sound stage, little did it matter that the school, built in 1904, looked somewhat like a prison.
The night before we watched television with our parents. Watching television as a family was what we did then and the shows that mattered on Sunday night were all on the CBC. With only one television set in the house, and only a handful of channels at best, there wasn't much choice. We watched the Ed Sullivan Show every Sunday, usually after the regular Sunday night routine of roast chicken or beef. Eating as a family was what we did then and Sunday night was a ritual.
As a family we had been watching television together through the recent months of the American malaise after the murder of their president in Dallas. The American border was only 80 km away, yet it seemed light years distant with its violence and social upheaval. Little did we know that the political turmoil was just beginning.
That night's appearance by The Beatles seemed an antidote to the darkness of the previous two months. Something lifted, diverted our attention, and the American dream was alive again, even though it now came with a working class English accent.
It was an exciting time to be kids; our world was safe and prosperous, change was in the air and we were all so innocent. Within four years our world was noticeably less safe and prosperous, and by 1970 when The Beatles disbanded, our innocence was gone forever.
The night before we watched television with our parents. Watching television as a family was what we did then and the shows that mattered on Sunday night were all on the CBC. With only one television set in the house, and only a handful of channels at best, there wasn't much choice. We watched the Ed Sullivan Show every Sunday, usually after the regular Sunday night routine of roast chicken or beef. Eating as a family was what we did then and Sunday night was a ritual.
As a family we had been watching television together through the recent months of the American malaise after the murder of their president in Dallas. The American border was only 80 km away, yet it seemed light years distant with its violence and social upheaval. Little did we know that the political turmoil was just beginning.
That night's appearance by The Beatles seemed an antidote to the darkness of the previous two months. Something lifted, diverted our attention, and the American dream was alive again, even though it now came with a working class English accent.
It was an exciting time to be kids; our world was safe and prosperous, change was in the air and we were all so innocent. Within four years our world was noticeably less safe and prosperous, and by 1970 when The Beatles disbanded, our innocence was gone forever.
Copyright 2014 by Jim Murray.