'Twas a dark and stormy night

'Twas a dark and stormy night.

Really.

I mean it really was a dark and stormy night. We had headed out after the sun went down and it was rainy and the sky was grey so it can be accurately and justifiably called a dark and stormy night.

Dark and stormy it 'twas when, suddenly, a black shape came out of the darkness.

It was not a Romulan war bird, or a Klingon bird of prey, or even a Borg cube. No, of all things . . . it was a truck.

A truck whose driver had apparently not noticed that the Enterprise had come to a stop behind it as we were all waiting at a red light. Said driver decided to all of a sudden back up (why you may ask? Could it be he wanted to straighten out? Caprice? He dropped his chocolate bar beside the gear shift and accidently shifted it and then stepped on the gas while reaching for the bar? Or maybe he was a mustachioed villain who actually saw the Enterprise and let loose an evil chuckle before stepping on the gas? We shall never know). Anyway, to cut a long story short, the Enterprise, though she fought valiantly, was crushed in the onslaught. The force of the truck was too much and the Enterprise gained a hood with a somewhat accordion-like appearance.

Though actually the funny thing is that the Enterprise was already on her last legs. The transmission had been making rather alarming noises for the past week and the mechanic had informed Emily that it would die very soon. Therefore, the run in with the truck, while cosmetically damaging, was not what did her in.

So yes, this is all leading up to the news that the Enterprise has passed on.

It is no more.

It has ceased to be.

It has expired and gone to meet its maker.

It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace.

It has shuffled of this mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

It is an ex-car.

It served Emily and I faithfully for the 8 months that it was in Emily's possession and we shall miss it sorely. (And sorely I mean, walking for half-an-hour home laden with groceries does no favour to ones feet.)

It's send off was rather less grand than its name deserved. I imagined in my mind something similar to Spock's funeral in The Wrath of Khan. Salute. Bagpipes. Speech.

Instead, it sat sadly in our driveway for a week or two before the garage man came to take it away.

Thus ends the era of the Enterprise.

P.S. Many thanks to Monty Python and the Parrot Sketch without which certain extremely moving lines could not have been written.

The Bark Side

Emily pointed out that if I mention greyhounds in the same sentence as Imperial Walkers than I should give you all the reference. So, here it is.

I got this idea from a video. The video is awesome and I do not want to spoil it so I will leave it to you to watch it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ux1yEkZVeHk

Enjoy!

In a Galaxy Far, Far Away . . .

Well, I don't know that I would quite call Ottawa a galaxy far, far away, but, considering I hardly get out of Toronto these days, a five hour drive was pretty long.

On the long weekend of August 3-5, Emily and I traveled to Ottawa. It was not a "room-mate road-trip" but rather a "here are two room-mates going to the same city on the same weekend". Emily went to spend the weekend with her boyfriend while I went to spend the time with my sister. Therefore, this shall be a tale only of what I did in Ottawa.

My sister and I actually ended up doing a lot of touristy things. On Saturday morning we went to the Canadian Aviation and Space Museum. I had never been and absolutely loved every minute of it. The planes were amazing and I was especially hung up in the World War II-era section. They had a British Lancaster bomber which was a thing of beauty.

Apologies for the patheticness of my cellphone camera.

 

Isn't it huge?!

 



The other exciting part of the Aviation Museum was that they had a special Star Wars exhibit on. I must confess that as well as being a Trekkie I am also a Star Wars fan.

Okay, now I really must break into the tale here and ask an eternal question that I am sure fans have been asking since the first Star Wars movie came out in 1977. Now, Star Trek fans are called 'Trekkies', Stargate fans are called 'Gaters', I'm assuming fans of Firefly could be called 'Flies', so what are Star Wars fans called?

Good, got that out of my system, now, on with the exhibit! In it we saw original props and costumes and, most exciting, the armour of Darth Vadar. They also had this thing where you could create your own Star Wars character. I ended up with a bounty hunting Ewok (not exactly the profession I have ever associated with Ewoks but I guess that is what happens when you put down Boba Fett as the person who inspires you). I have to say it was pretty cool to actually see that. They also had some of the models they used to film scenes, Star Destroyer, Imperial Shuttle, Tie Fighters, Imperial Walkers, etc.

 

The intimidating Darth Vadar

Anakin's pod racer from Episode 1

 



An Imperial Walker that always makes me think of greyhound dogs :)

 

A Star Destroyer somehow still looking intimidating though it could easily be stepped on

 

Han Solo preserved in carbonite, hopefully they let him out occasionally

We also went to the Diefenbunker, which I had also never been to. I was amazed at how big it was! They really were preparing for every eventuality during the Cold War when they built that place. It had everything you could possibly need in there, except for a view of the sky I suppose. There were offices all labeled for the various government departments, dormitories, conference rooms, a big cafeteria and on the very lowest level there was a huge vault with an enormous thick door.

 

 

An important room for important people

 

 

An even more important room for even more important people

 

 

 

The enormous door, turns out the vault was intended for Canada's gold reserves should the need ever arise to transfer them to a safe location

 

Another interesting, and rather creepy, part of the Diefenbunker was a room meant to house people who, having moved down there after a nuclear attack, found the strain of living underground and thinking of the fates of the loved ones they had left behind too much and had to be placed under restraint. These people would be put in a small room with a few bunkbeds and no door handle on the inside of the room. Food was pushed through a small opening. If the people were not already under strain when they were put in the room than being in there would certainly do it.

 

We also went to the War Museum, which I had seen before, so we didn't go around the whole thing. But I had to revisit the World War II section to see if there was anything new. There wasn't.

 

Besides the museums we also toured around Ottawa a little, went to the parliament buildings and were in time to see the changing of the guard which was really neat. We also got to see the changing of the sentry at the war memorial. Ottawa is such a military oriented city, I hadn't realized quite how much until that weekend.

 

I didn't see Emily until late Sunday afternoon when we met up to drive back to Toronto together. This was our first real longer drive together and we started out with much enthusiasm and excitement. I don't know quite how we managed it, but we were able to fairly well maintain those good spirits for the whole five hour drive. Though, we did discover one thing which should be a lesson to everyone - carrots do not go with peanut butter. It's actually rather gross. As to why we were trying this combination in the first place, Emily had some food with her and as neither of us really wanted to stop for a full meal we were snacking on what she had brought. However, both of us are gluten-dairy-sugar-grains-and-various-other-foods-free and therefore finding food to snack on is actually a lot harder for people who have such dietary restrictions.

 

It was a fun drive though and, as we are both easily amused, it was not hard to entertain ourselves. For instance, at one point we found a good ten minutes of funniness out of the fact that the Enterprise looked like it was wearing a sombrero. (As to how that was possible I will leave it to you to figure out.)









The Village

Somewhere is the Ontario wilderness is a peculiar village, sometimes sleepy, sometimes bursting with activity. This village is small, naturally beautiful and full of interesting little communities and families. There is one general store, a post office, amazingly two book shops, a river running through it's heart and miles of thick forests. In the winter it is a frozen wonderland, and in the summer it is a lush playground. Thankfully it is not completely secluded and there are no monsters in the woods....as far as I know...

This is the village where Elizabeth and I grew up and where we adventured to in the our little Enterprise this past Canada day long weekend. It was our first lengthy road trip together since I acquired the carship. She held up pretty well on the four-hour-each-way jaunt. It was a trip down memory, lane travelling those roads again, all the old stopping places, unique houses, little hamlets along the way.

Our time spent there was also one of reminiscence. Our tiny elementary school still looked the same, except for the renovated play structure. I remember when Elizabeth would arrive first at school and wait for me to arrive by bus. Before the first bell rang we would discuss the Star Trek: Voyager episodes we watched the night before. I remember how at recess we would walk the playground listening to home made ABBA cassettes on the walk-men our sisters gave us. It actually worked out quite well, her walk-man could only fast forward and mine could only rewind....those were the days! I also remember charming old computer programs such as story book reader, fun typing tutorials and other simple yet surprisingly very entertaining educational games.

It was also delightful to go swimming in a river and the lake! That is one thing Toronto doesn't have in the summer. Growing up with such swimming options, it is hard to enjoy using a pool. I also miss going for long walks down green, woody country roads. Sure Toronto has parks, but there is still the distant wiz of traffic and the distant skyscraper skyline. Back home the only sounds were birds and wind and, well...ok, distant motorboats and four-wheelers, too.

Every year, on July 1st, the closest, slightly bigger town would have a fire works show, that were set off from an island and explode above the lake. It wasn't as glamorous as city fire work displays but it had it's own charm. This year my family decided to buy a bunch of fire crackers and make a mini little show of our own. Along with card games, the walks, the swims, we learned to have fun without movies or video games.

It's not be a creepy, haunted village, nor a backwards town from centuries ago. No, it's a quaint place where there is a slower, perhaps more appreciative pace to life. Something us big city dwellers could learn something from, I think.

The Meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything

In this age of existential, metaphysical, grammatical, zoological, culinary, and geographical crisis, I feel it necessary to point out that today we reached 42 blog views. Undoubtedly there's a deep and significant meaning to this. . . but I don't know what it is.

The 1812 Overture

Toronto has been abuzz with celebrations, commemorations and monumentalizations for the bicentennial anniversary of the War of 1812. Now I, as I am sure others did, did a double-take at that. (Or at least I hope others did, surely I'm not the only person who knows diddly-squat about Canadian history?) Isn't it 2013? Did someone just count wrong or am I missing something here? The War of 1812, despite its name, was actually fought over the years of 1812 - 1815. Therefore, Toronto has several more years of celebration and events ahead of it.

My roommate Emily and I took part in some of these events happening around the city. The first of which was at Fort York. Unfortunately, the carship Enterprise did not actually accompany us to Fort York, merely to the nearest subway station. So, in fact, you might call our excursion to Fort York an . . . away mission. Neither of us had ever been to Fort York, but had always wanted to go and when I found out that there would be re-enactments, vintage things to buy, tours and that it was free - well - it sounded like the perfect time to explore all there was to see.

Fort York itself is a good size but when you take the fort with the land surrounding it, the city has actually set aside a good chunk of land for this piece of history. Everything about the place makes you feel like you have been thrown back a couple of centuries and, if it were not for the fact that the Toronto skyline (including the CN Tower), is right outside the walls, it would be possible that you had actually gone back in time. With the aid of a DeLorean, of course.

There were lots of people walking about in period dress, vendors selling items from the period and "soldiers" re-enacting battles. We saw one re-enactment. The Americans won (booo!!!) but it was fascinating to watch the battle strategy that the two sides followed. I have frequently read about their method of reloading while other lines fire, and so on, but it is another thing entirely to actually witness people demonstrating it. They were also using canons and every time one fired the ground literally shook, and that was just with blanks. Imagine if they were using real shot!

 

The parade after the battle.

 

Amongst all the soldiers in uniform were women dressed in beautiful period gowns and men dressed as blacksmiths, tailors, and other tradesmen. A group of them came together at one point during the afternoon and demonstrated dances from the various centuries. As a watcher of BBC period miniseries (Bronte, Austen, Gaskell, Dickens and such) I recognized several of the songs from the movies. Got to love those nerdy movie-lover moments!

Dancing from hundreds of years ago was so much more civilized and beautiful than it is now. The forms were so graceful and an air of chivalry and politeness permeates every aspect of the dance. I am glad to see that this form of dancing does survive in some form in line dancing and Irish dancing. At least we aren't all just awkwardly swaying from side to side, stiff as pokers, with our arms clasped about a partner's neck (I think back to my high school dancing days).

There were several tents set up with people hawking their wares. One of the best tents was manned by a woman (or should I say womaned by a woman?) who sold swords, muskets, compasses, sextants, scarves and writing utensils. I was absolutely thrilled when I found a bosun's whistle and bought it on the spot. A bosun's whistle, for those of you who are as yet unenlightened, is, according to the dictionary is, "A high-pitched whistle used by a boatswain for giving signals." The definition makes it sound so very boring, but, in reality, it is much less dull. When I think of a bosun's whistle I think of such Napoleonic war films as Master and Commander and Horatio Hornblower, where, whenever something would happen, such as the captain coming aboard, the bosun would blow his whistle. As an interesting side note, in the original Star Trek series, original as in the first Star Trek series done between 1966 - 1969, whenever Kirk flips one of those multi-coloured switches on his chair to speak to the crew it makes a whistling noise identical to the bosun's whistle. A nice nod to ancient days and ancient ways.

 

Some of the lovely things that were for sale.

Emily was made deliriously happy when she found a stick of sealing wax for only $1.00. She loves to write letters and seal them in the old-fashioned way with a seal containing her initials. Therefore, she is always on the look-out for interesting writing utensils and supplies for her letter writing.

The buildings were open to explore and it was fascinating to be able to go in and see all the nooks and crannies. I found one of the most interesting buildings to be the barracks. The wooden bunk-beds looked enormously uncomfortable and people were short! I am no giant myself (standing at the very respectable height of 5'4") but I don't think the beds would have been much longer than I am.

 

Really, how on earth did they fit?

The second events we took part in in the War of 1812 spirit, was the Redpath Tall Ships Festival down at Harbourfront. We bought tickets early and crossed our fingers that it would not rain. Well, it didn't rain, but it was the hottest, muggiest day ever known to man or woman. (Well, stretching it a bit I might be, but it was pretty darn hot!) A lovely sunburn accompanied us home.

Once again the Enterprise did not accompany us. Poor thing, I fear it is its lot in life to be left behind as we continue on our away missions. The subway conveyed us to the spot and we immediately set about touring each and every ship.

Tall ships are things of beauty. They are so majestic and lovely and bring to mind another era. An era of "wood, wind and sail". I have always been fascinated by tall ships and the Napoleonic War so to actually be able to stand on the ships, to touch the railings and the ropes, to go down below and see where the crew would have slept, was a dream come true.

 

Some of the ships we got to tour.

There were eleven ships in the harbour but, as the day went along and got hotter and hotter we felt our enthusiasm dwindle. On the shore, as part of 1812, there were people dressed in period costume doing different things. There was one man working a hand lathe, women going around in period dresses to take pictures with, a blacksmith plying his trade, and others in various pursuits.

There was to be a Parade of Sail at 4 pm when all the ships would leave their births and sail in a line across the harbour. Unfortunately, the heat of the day was too oppressive to wait around for it and we headed homeward early.

All in all, I felt like Emily and I gave proper attention to the anniversary of the War of 1812 and took advantage of some of the interesting things that the city of Toronto was doing to recognize it. It was also a fitting maiden voyage of the carship Enterprise. When we first set out I tried to convince Emily to "christen" the car by breaking her bottle of Perrier water against the side of the car, but no luck.