whatever gets you through the night, is all right, it's all right

I remember December 8th, 1980. It is hard to believe it's been 25 years. It makes me feel old to think that. I remember our living room on Lascelles Blvd. I remember the white shag carpet, looking up to the mantle piece and leaning on the speaker (which was only a couple of feet high, but I wasn't that much taller in those days) listening to the CBC. The last thing I expected was to hear that John Lennon had been shot. I was shocked to my core. I think it was the first time I understood that violence can happen to good people. I was transfixed, listening to the radio. I started to cry and went to my room because, with the arrogance of a child, I thought my parents wouldn't understand that John Lennon's death was so upsetting. I failed to understand that they were of his generation and had grown up with him as part of their lives.

On the news last night, they quoted one of his biographers as saying he was no angel but had made people think about something other than themselves and that that was as good a legacy as one could hope to achieve.

Imagine.

A cautionary tale

OK. This is a true story. This morning, I'm having a Monday. I got up to go swimming but there was a frost so I rushed in to borrow the egg lifter (aka windscreen scraper). I went swimming (good girl) but had to stop for gas and this horrible old yuppie woman cut in front of my with her SUV even though I was clearly there before her and I had to wait for an available gas pump and then I was on the wrong side. I debated confronting her, but made do with quietly and good naturedly complaining to the kid behind the counter. I rushed off frantically to the post office, because now I was behind schedule. I grabbed the package and lept from the car, smashing the package's sharp corner into my nose. I ran into a cheerful and ditzy elderly woman (she didn't know if she was coming or going) in my haste- luckily she thought this was hysterically funny. Who rushes in Sidney? I rushed in- mercifully no line. Yet since there was no one behind the counter I had to wait. Then I realized that my wallet had fallen out of my purse, so the postal worker had to cancel the transaction, flinging the small post office into disarray (since her computer skills lack much to be desired). I rushed back to the car and got my wallet. Luckily, this is Sidney, and one can leave a wallet in an unlocked car for 5 minutes without having it stolen. I came back to the post office and there were ten people in line! The one computer still wasn't working because postal lady A didn't know how to cancel a transaction. I finally got to the front. Postal lady A gave up and I luckily got Postal lady B (finally a break).

I made it to work, luckily in time to get some (bad) coffee. Bad coffee is marginally better than no coffee.

I checked my email. I am currently having discussions with colleagues about the possibility of:
1) shipping 2.2 metric tonnes from Germany to the Yukon
2) doing a marine electromagnetic survey ON LAND in the arctic with said heavy equipment, in the summer when the land gets flooded, dragging a kilometer of cable, say either behind a caterpillar type truck or one of those boats with the big fans used in the Everglades. Any one got a hovercraft I could use?
3) alternatively, we do a land EM survey in the winter at 40 below. Electrical tape will freeze and cut like a razor. Nuts and bolts won't match since they will shrink. We might have to heat up the electronics to get them to work.

I can't decide which of the people involved in these preliminary plans is craziest. I'm having difficulty telling if they are kidding me. The scary part is that I'm the one trying to convince them we could do this arctic survey and the harder I push the more bizarre the ideas they throw at me. Am I the craziest?