even our sweet neighbors, the canadians, have a tipping point.
—
“truth is the greatest marketing campaign.”
-richie norton
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photo credit: s. townsend
Aug25
tipping point.
Tag Archives: canada
Aug25
“who am I to blow against the wind?” – paul simon
sunday’s strong winds turned
the annual port huron, michigan float down
into an accidental international expedition.
the associated press reports around 1,500 people were sent across the st. clair river’s international border while riding inflatable rafts, tubes, boats, and other floatation devices.
canadian authorities helped bring them back to michigan from sarnia, ontario. police reportedly arranged for sarnia transit to take the stranded rafters back stateside.
Facebook post from the rafters:
“we want to express our gratitude to the canadian authorities for their assistance and understanding with the floaters who’ve unintentionally been forced to the canadian shoreline. you’ve shown us true kindness and what it means to be amazing neighbors!”
sarnia police tell the a.p. only minor injuries were reported in the incident, which started at port huron’s lighthouse beach and was slated to end at marysville’s chrysler beach before mother nature took control.
authorities report that “a strong current and lack of life jackets” heightened the hazards in the incident. the port huron float down is an annual event between michigan and canada, which takes participants 7.5 miles down the st. clair river. shipowners are speaking out against an annual, loosely organized event that sends thousands floating down the st. clair river.
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credits: associated press, mlive.com, sarnia police,
blackburnnews.com, benjamin raven
Nov23
warmth.
halifax, nova scotia’s residents have recently been seeing an interesting sight: coats tied to street poles. at first, one might think that these clothes are lost, but they’ve actually been put there for a specific reason. if you look closely, there are labels attached to the jackets that read, “we’re not lost! if you are stuck out in the cold, please take me to keep warm!”
every year, tara smith-atkins works to help the homeless brave winter’s freezing temperatures. she asks the community to donate old coats and then invites local children to help her tie them to lamp posts for those in need. they also bring along scarves and mittens.
as the kids are tying outerwear to the poles, she aims to teach them an important lesson. she explained, “When we got back in the car after an hour on the street, they were all freezing and crying for the heater to be on and complaining because they were cold. and they were bundled up.” not only is the compassionate woman working to help the homeless, she’s also teaching young children the significance of what they’re doing. next year, smith-atkins hopes to include a $5 voucher in each coat pocket so the wearer can buy themselves a hot meal.
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credits: halifolks, tara smith-atkins, amy poehler’s smart girls, ann gragert
Aug30
what I love most about this crazy life is the adventure of it. – juliette binoche
spent the afternoon at
the rogers centre
in canada
where the
baseball opened with
the official roof report –
‘the roof is open’
the game began
and we
watched our detroit tigers
get mowed over
by the toronto blue jays
such a game (15-1)
where
our outfielder even
lost track of
how many outs there were
and forgot to throw the ball back
toronto fans threw out hats
when their player hit 3 home runs
all in the same game
and
hockey and baseball
blurred lines
in the old hockey tradition
of the hat trick
then
every opposing starter
got at least on base
giving us the chance
to see their entire roster
all in one game
but the staff and the local fans
were very friendly
except for the guy
who impounded
our piñata head mascot
kind of a chicken
who was meant to be a tiger
(a chi-ger)
upon entering the stadium
lest i possibly wear it
and conceal my identity
but we decided to shake it all off
and
embrace the huge loss of this game
by enjoying the town
with fans from both sides
and
our pinata
came right along with us
as we met
a rickshaw driver
a man with a chicken hat
( a kindred spirit who grew up in my hometown)
a street singer with a bag on his head
a sweaty spiderman
a bachelorette party
and a band
playing american and canadian covers
so we danced a lot
and passed the piñata on to the band
but upon returning to our hotel
i couldn’t exactly remember
my hotel room number
except for the last two digits
which caused a bit of a logistical issue
so i visited a few floors
on the elevator that only moved
in response to an electronic key swipe
(who knew?)
saw a lot of our beautiful hotel
made friends with the front desk
who made a few phone calls
to my fellow travelers
who mostly had their phones shut off
in this
faraway and friendly foreign land
and
finally got back into my room
where i soon after
got locked in the glass shower
for a while
then
relaxed and drifted off to sleep
in my pillowy bed
until there was
a 3am fire alarm (false)
but it was one great day
leading into the next
and
there certainly was a lot of laughter
i’d say there were
at least
3 major bouts of laughter
all in the same day.
and
that’s a hat trick.
—
‘that’s the beauty of sport.
sometimes you laugh,
sometimes you cry.’
– joseph gradual
Aug29
go north. and then go more north. and just a bit more north yet.
heading to the great white north
speeding on a train
with
one group of friends
one piñata head
one group of others waiting for us there
and bringing heaps of american spirit to go around.
“the cool thing about being famous is traveling. i have always wanted to travel across seas, like to canada and stuff.”
– britney spears
—
image credits: googleimages
Mar23
the french disconnection
my boyfriend was an irish canadian, true and true, funny, and smart, and creative, and happy – a footloose and friendly graduate student and just what i needed at the time. i’d just been divorced, and we’d met in the states, he was my roommate’s cousin, here for a family visit. we’d planned to all go to an american baseball game together, but it was rained out, so he and i sat up all night, watching old movies, talking and laughing. he was kind of a cross between david letterman and tom hanks, with a bad boy streak, and i fell in love with him immediately. the first time i went to visit him in his hometown of ottawa, i was both a bit nervous and excited to see him. on our first day there, he took me to the beautiful town of hull, in quebec.
we rented a car and drove to a little neighborhood bar in the middle of town. once there, we were celebrating my visit with a few adult beverages and having a great time, and i began to spread my cheer around a bit and chat up the locals. having taken french in school for a number of years, it somehow all came back quickly, and i became amazingly more ‘fluent’ in direct correlation to the number of drinks i had. (l’alcohol math de francais theory)
i talked to everyone around me and soon was engaged in deep conversation with a local motorcycle rider.
we were having a ball, people were very friendly, and i was sure they could understand my french clearly. at some point, i even felt comfortable enough to take the motorcycle guy’s sunglasses off of his head and wear them myself, after asking him in french if it was okay. he responded to me in french with words that i had not heard in all my classes, and after my boyfriend spoke a bit of french back to him, i gave him back his glasses. we all smiled and said our goodbyes, and we decided it was probably a good time to head home.
we got into our car and as soon as we had driven 100 feet, we made a quick stop.
we were suddenly surrounded by a huge pack of police.
we were told to get out of the car with our hands up, and i wondered just what he was into that i hadn’t known about. i began to imagine all sorts of scenarios, he was really an international drug dealer, a gun runner, a smuggler, a spy?, and i told them i didn’t understand, as i did not speak a word of french.
once out of the car, they told me to put my shoes back on, as i was now barefoot for some reason, and ordered us to open the trunk and step back. i imagined there would be some contraband, a body – god knows what. i looked at him and wondered just who i had really become involved with. after a thorough search, and a questioning of each of us, they determined that we were not criminals after all, and explained that they’d had been staking us out for the last 2 hours while we were at the bar celebrating and speaking french, and that we had rented the exact make and model and color of a car that had been recently involved in a local armed robbery. they apologized profusely for the inconvenience and advised us to drive carefully.
ADIEU!
i said goodbye to the police and we got back in our car to head out and talk about what an eventful day it had been. i took my shoes off once again and then we laughed until we cried all of the way back to his house. in english, i told him that i had believed he was a clever felon for just a bit, and in french, we told each other that we loved one another. as long as we dated, it never failed to be an adventure. right up until the day we said goodbye. and we remain friends.
I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying. Oscar Wilde
—–
image credits: rcmp, tumblr.com, wikipedia, moviesmakeover.com
Jan20
‘Good things happen when you meet strangers.’ – Yo-Yo Ma
it was going to be a sad trip home. i was on via rail, and had boarded in the beautiful city of ottawa, heading back to my home in the states. i’d been to visit my canadian boyfriend, we’d been together 2 years, and had decided to go our separate ways. it was going to be a 13 hour train ride, and i just wanted a chance to think and drift in silence. i sat by myself, purposely, planning to listen to music and not do much else.
as we were about to leave the station, a man sat down in the seat right next to me. he looked a bit world-weary, and had on a well-worn leather jacket, that looked much like his lived-in face. he introduced himself, had a very deep and gruff voice, and my first thought was, ‘oh no, i really, really don’t feel like talking to anyone, and this is going to be a really, really long trip.’
after a bit of polite banter, we sat, in silence once again, next to each other, and watched the landscape roll by. as i looked out, i began to think about everything, and a tear rolled silently down my face. i knew it was the right thing that had happened, that my boyfriend and i were not meant to be together, but also, how much i would miss him being a part of my life, even if we were in two different countries.
when he saw this, my stranger on the train reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, and offered to share his whiskey with me. and he began to tell me his story. he had been on this trip that he was so excited about, but was returning to his hometown a very sad man. he had gone to ask his girlfriend to marry him, had the ring and the speech and the flowers, and she had answered him, ‘no.’
hours went by as we shared his whiskey and shared our stories. after a while, i began to stop feeling sad for myself, and took on a sadness for him and what he had just been through. we talked and talked, and found that we didn’t have many things in common, other than wounded hearts and our love of people. after a long while, i fell asleep and he continued to sit near me, ever the vigilant soldier, protective, and somehow connected by a break of the heart. i slept for a long while, and woke up to an amazing act of kindness.
.
i discovered that he had taken off his beloved coat and covered me with it, had put a granola bar in my hand, and put the engagement ring on my finger. when i looked at him, wondering why, he told that he worried i would wake up cold, be hungry, or feel unloved. he wanted to make sure that none of that happened.
he said i had made him feel so much better, just by being there and listening, and that he hoped that i knew someone cared, even if it was a stranger. i told him that i was overwhelmed by his kind heart, that he had helped me in the same way, and as i gave him back his coat and his ring, i wished him the same. when we got to the final station, we hugged and went our separate ways once again. my friends were standing there, waiting to take me home. i told them how i had been engaged for a few hours, not to my boyfriend, but to a stranger i had met on the train. he may never know how much this meant to me, but somehow, i think he does.
Great perils have this beauty, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers. – Victor Hugo
I didn't have my glasses on.... 