Here's Yer Fuckin' Soup

 

A bit of a paraphrase from the great Louis C.K. to start this blog entry: “I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to swear around my kids but it’s hard sometimes. Like the other day when I was making my daughters lunch. I said, ‘Here’s yer fuckin’ soup.’ You can see how that would be a hard situation…”

I can’t explain why even now, the I don’t know how manyeth time I’ve heard this joke, it gets at least a chuckle out of me. To analyze it would be to ruin it. So I won’t. But I will tell you what it puts me in mind of and this could very well be why this joke has specific appeal to my sense of humour. It’s more of a helpless than a happy chuckle. Like when Louis C.K. got charged by his bank for having too little money in his account. That is hilarious in an all-you-can-do-is-laugh kind of way. I’m not going to tell you in any straightforward and orderly way why the soup joke makes me laugh, you know me better than that. This requires some set-up.

Since coming home, I’ve noticed an unnaturally generous layer of manners, politeness and social niceties being heaped onto the toast, or, as it were, the pancake that is day-to-day working, shopping, and milling about the Canadian populace. As far as cheery, good-natured hobnobbery and small talk goes, we Canadians lay it on thick. We are desperately concerned with “how you are” even if we’ve never seen you before. We have all attained advanced degrees in social meteorology and, in times of inclement weather, are gifted with clairvoyance in regards to how long it will be until clear skies return. And we almost always require in parting that you “have a good one.” While I still play along, particularly in a professional capacity, my reaction to this collective hyper-positivism has rapidly ranged from, “Well he/she was nice!” to “Just what the hell was he/she trying to hide?!”

A not recently formulated theory on this signature Canadian behavior I have is that our national “friendliness" is directly DISproportionate to our national happiness. You may have seen one of the many “studies” that have ranked Canada at or near the top of the world in national happiness. In my opinion, the data collectors (and I’m being very generous assuming there were any for these “studies”) were just falling for the fake shit I described above. The average Canadian, and I point out yet again, by that I don’t mean the mean, I mean the REAL, paycheck-to-paycheck Canadians who are living with spouses/partners/roommates/parents to cut costs, who are working at least two jobs, who “own” homes so they can borrow against them, I mean the real deal Johnny and Josephine Canucks are not the happiest folks in the world. What’s more, I don’t think they’re happy that they have to pretend like they’re happy, which makes the hyper-positive “Hey, how are you this fine morning?” all the more forced and contrived. Anyone else noticing this? No? I’m all alone here? A solitary voice in the Canadian wilderness?

Well then let’s travel south a smidge and hear another voice, shall we? A voice we’ve heard here before. That of Robert Reich. If you watch his doc “Inequality For All,” he outlines with crystal clarity the events of the last 50 years in America that have resulted in the massive inequalities in the U.S. which have in turn led to feelings of unhappiness there, and I don’t think they are much different for us up here in Canada. Starting in the late 70’s and early 80’s wages stopped keeping up with the cost of living while the economy boomed. Simply put, the US got richer, but the average American didn’t. Prices went up, but wages didn’t, so more accurately stated, the US got richer, but the average American got poorer. It’s insanely simple to track, but for some reason it ain’t all that well publicized. Hmmm… why not? Could it be because the few who got richer are in charge of publicity? And if you’re getting filthy rich while everybody else is spiraling down their own personal rabbit holes of debt, you don’t start the evening news with, “Today’s top story, everybody’s lives are sucking more and more, but hey, guess who pulled down an extra billion this fiscal year?!?! I DID! Everybody look at how much more money I have than you!”

“We’re talkin’ ‘bout Reaganomics. Oh Lord down in the congress. They’re passin’ all kinds of bills. Down on Capitol Hill… Money’s too tight to mention. (cutbacks) Oh money, money, money, money. Can’t get an unemployment extension. Money’s too tight to mention. Can’t even qualify for my pension. We’re talkin’ ‘bout the dollar bill… and that old man who’s over the hill. What are we all to do when money’s got a hold on you? Money’s too tight to mention. Oh money, money, money, money…”

Oddly, or perhaps appropriately, this is a Simply Red song about the start of the inequality gap widening in America. They’re from England. But it tracks. Reagan famously fought with and defeated the air traffic controllers union, which was the start of declining union positions in the States. During his time at the wheel of the American automobile, Reagan pointed it at a cliff and put a brick on the gas pedal. He lowered tax rates on the rich, de-regulated business (which is a fancy way of saying he removed government oversight, so the rich didn’t have to keep getting richer ethically), raised the price (and thereby exclusivity) of education, and with the horseshit “trickle-down” economics depended on the upper class to create jobs while shrinking the middle class – the actual job creators outside of capitalist fairyland.

After WWII in the US, there were three decades of prosperity between 1945 and 1975. Lots of union jobs, tax rates on the rich of as high as 90% (now the rich being the rich will find accountants that will pare that down to about 50% but even if they paid 50% nowadays can you imagine???), some education was actually FREE (like at Berkeley), the middle class was large, they spent their generous pay, this created a need for more production, which created more JOBS. It’s all in the video. Give it a watch.

 Robert Reich called this the “virtuous cycle.” We had that same cycle in Canada at the same time. But we can’t have that any more, neither country. You know why? Cuz it’s socialism! That’s what some people call it anyway. Call it what you will, I don’t think you’d get much of an argument if you said folks were happier back then.

A few other things happened that are harder to pin on Reagan and whoever the voters of Canada chose at the time to drive our political car off the cliff. Globalization, automation, monopolization (when more and more of the world’s money and resources are concentrated into fewer larger and larger companies), but Canadians and Americans wanted the good times of the virtuous cycle days to continue. We wanted to live the lives our parents had become accustomed to so what did we do? Three things. Women joined the workforce, we worked longer hours, and we mortgaged and borrowed like madpeople. What did our governments do? They increased immigration. Take a 30-dollar-an-hour job and whack it up into three 10-dollar-an-hour jobs and what have you done? You’ve created jobs! That’s what the politicians told us. But what they’d really done is taken away a good job and created three jobs Canadians and Americans know won’t pay the bills. But someone from a country where that 10-dollar-an-hour job translates into a fantastic job will jump at that opportunity. Relax visa and housing laws to make things easier for new citizens while carefully creating the social stigma that not-so-new citizens who don’t want those jobs are just lazy and you’ve lowered national happiness. Lower it further by bullying locals into not talking about the effects of #1 or #4 on the job market labeling them sexist or racist if they do. Now we're all in competition with even MORE job hunters. But we can't hope they don't get the job we want. Instead we should just say, “How are you? I’m wonderful thank you and you? Hope you get the job I want. Have a splendid day!”

Still? Don’t see the jaw muscles twitching while that greeting passes through the plastic smile?

But don’t blame the little guy. It’s a trap we can easily fall into. Women and immigrants are not stealing jobs from anyone. Follow the money. Are they all driving around in Lexii and wiping their arses with fifties? No. They’re working multiple jobs, longer hours, and mortgaging their houses too. So who can Canadians blame and what can we do to vent this growing anger? We can’t do much about the government. Because there is so much more money involved in politics, we haven’t had a candidate worth voting for in a couple generations. The fat cats who have made the political situation the way it is have effectively insulated themselves from public blowback by eliminating consumer options. We almost HAVE to buy their shit. No choice. That’s the de-diversification/monopolization I mentioned above. So what can a lowly personal citizen do to fight back? We’ve gotta feed our families and it seems like the whole world is against us. So we justify. We screw each other, then justify it.

The driving examiners who fail people that should pass can justify it by saying that if they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have enough students in their driver’s training courses (they can also justify the conflict of interest of being the teacher of those courses AND the road test examiners) and they need twenty students a month or the course will be cancelled and that will take food off their tables.

The small business owner who charges a lot more than he/she knows the product or service is worth can justify it because if they charge a fair price, they might not be able to compete with the big businesses (at least, not without working harder than them). The landlord who charges 1500 bucks for a one-bedroom can justify it by calling it “fair market value,” which is like saying, “Everyone else is doing it.” We don’t have any corporate Moms to tell them, “If everyone was jumping off the Trail bridge, would you do it too?” And where would we find ethical superheroes who could regulate business without being corrupted by it? 

The people who lie in job interviews and cut corners at work can justify it because of the competitive job market. Workers who don’t teach other workers how to properly do the job in order to maintain a level of indispensability can justify that for the same reason. And, unfortunately, workers who hate job competitors be they female, foreign or otherwise justify their hatred for the same reason.

Do you see what is happening? Canada is becoming a country filled with people in increasingly high-stakes competition with each other. The US too. Like in politics where polarization has never been more extreme, Canadians who used to be rivals are now enemies. Don’t you think THIS might add some jaw clinching during, “HEY, how are you? I’m super, thanks for asking. You take care now. Bye bye then.”???

This, at long last, brings me around to the opening quote from Louis C.K. Having lived in Asia, particularly China for this one, I have seen some customer service that might as well have been “Here’s yer fuckin’ soup.” The huge market does not require repeat customers or fake pleasantries with said customers. If you turn off a customer, there are a billion more. You can still get rich. I hate worse than multi-year phone service contracts to say this but, this is one way China is more honest than Canada and the more of this fakery I perceive, the more I hate it. Is it just me or would anyone else out there prefer, “Here’s yer fuckin’ soup.”?

While we’re on China, I’ll use my go-to example for why globalism is so great for business owners in rich countries like Canada. Do youknow that the average worker in the Chinese countryside makes between 2 and 10 dollars a day? This is about 60% of the country. Then when they miraculously save enough money to make the move to the city where they might make 15 or 20 dollars a day, a lot of employers hire them but don’t pay them. Yes, prices of things are lower there, but when you’re making ZERO, it’s hard to make ends meet. I’ve lived there. This behavior is more common than you’d believe. Probably the most extreme example of “Here’s yer fuckin’ soup!” in the world. Try “Here’s yer fuckin’ empty bowl! In fact, gimme back that fuckin’ bowl you thief!” Ahhhh China… This is why we should not begrudge foreign workers one nickel they earn from getting jobs in our countries (US and Canada where we still, for some reason, have nickels).

Can you imagine what the prospect of $16.50 an hour looks like to one of these people? Let’s say you make 2 bucks a day. 16 bucks an hour, the LOWEST wage in Canada, is 64 times what you are currently making, and this is calculated based on less than minimum wage and an 8-hour day, which you are gonna add to as much as possible. To put that into perspective, and again using the least favourable stats to make my point, that’s like offering a Canadian minimum wage worker a job for over a thousand bucks an hour. $1,056/hr. to be precise. Do you think any Chinese worker offered the equivalent of a grand an hour is going to worry about flouting a few immigration, visa, or housing rules and regulations to get that? Work for that wage a year or two or three and return to your country with a king’s ransom! Why, they’ll be working long hours, multiple jobs, weekends, they’ll do ANYthing they’re ordered to do. They’ll be model employees in the eyes of the employers. Especially when a very real alternative is zero! You just can’t begrudge them although our owners and opinion makers would like us to.

How many times have we heard people disparaging today’s younger generation for being lazy? “There’s plenty of work out there, they just don’t want it.” “Look at the foreign workers. They work hard. They work long hours. They work multiple jobs. What happened to the workers of this country?” What happened to them is globalization. They’re no lazier than any other generation, EMPLOYERS are offering them worse jobs than any other generation then pretending it’s some kind of work ethic defect that is forcing them to hire foreign workers, or better yet, "outsource" the company to a foreign country. Bitching about lazy kids is the employers’ justification for their bad behaviour. And it probably helps them sleep at night if they train themselves to believe it.

And imagine how hard it is for the Canadian who knows he’s competing against workers who consider minimum wage a fortune. For the Canadian, who is planning to remain in Canada, minimum wage is barely enough to eke out an existence. There is going to be resentment. But it’s largely misguided. We can’t hate the workers, we need to hate the assholes who have created this situation. But who are they? Where are they? And what can we do about them? This is the situation of helplessness rendering a lot of Canadians quite unhappy. We don’t see any options. It’s like our country doesn’t give a shit about keeping us happy. It’s like they’re saying to us,

“Here’s yer fuckin’ soup!”

Critical Prosperity

 

It is with cautious optimism I say this: (and let’s be honest devotees, after all you’ve read about how the Fates like to play dice with my fortunes, if you were me and you had any at all, would you have any other kind of optimism remaining?) it looks as though the tough part of re-settling in Canada is behind me. Again to the devotees, if any there be, would you even think let alone write, let the bloody hell alone publish in your blog a Fate-double-dog-daring statement such as that if you were me? Well putting all determinist thinking aside, I AM me, and I just LOVE tempting those damned Fates! Verbal (and written) self-sabotagery has been my most dependable source of blog fodder and to this point, the Fates have rarely failed to attack my bait.

It's Victoria Day here in Canada. Happy Victoria Day to all! To me the holiday during which we, for some reason, honour a British queen of the past has no more meaning than Korean Peppero Day which is celebrated on November 11^th to “honour” the four ones in the date and how much they resemble four Peppero chocolate cookie sticks. In truth, it has slightly more meaning as demonstrated just ahead with the third spelling of the word “honor” as honour with the British u. May the red squiggly underlining in Microsoft Word represent my residual loyalty to the crown on this Victoria Day. It’s probably more than most Canadians will do in observance of the holiday.

To be honest, I’d rather have the stores open today like any regular Monday cuz I got shit to do. I will, against my personal blogging conceit, begin this entry with some good news! I got my B.C. security guard license… FINE SCALLY! I have just finished my breakfast/lunch (I refuse to call it brunch) of four waffles with olive oil Becel and Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup warshed down with two cups of coffee and preceded by an appetizer of Doritos. Hey, it’s a holiday. I’ll eat healthy tomorrow. Anyways, while I was punishing my body with my morning/afternoon meal I looked at my freshly laundered Safety Net Security shirt hanging on my door hook and thought of how nice it is to have a dryer. The shirt was given to me the day I received my license and became eligible to wear things with the word “security” embroidered on them without danger of violating any impersonating safety officer laws. It was too large and wrinkly. Now it’s just too large.

On the day I received the shirt I had been scheduled for another midnight mobile training shift but as the Fates’ dice would have it, somebody called in sick at the last minute. Since I was now eligible to do a solo shift, I was chosen to fill in for someone who was supposed to work the silver refinery while THAT person filled in for the sick person who was supposed to do the mobile (and train me). I was scheduled for silver refinery training, and still am, for tomorrow. Yup, my first legitimate shift was in a position I was not trained for. As the shift boss Rob said to me, “Welcome to Safety Net Security!”

To be fair, there isn’t much to a shift at the silver refinery (Ag) and it was the Friday of the Victoria Day long weekend, so it was especially event-free. In a 12-hour shift I think I did about 4 things. I watched mobile 2 open the truck gate to let out some workers so they could take out the garbage, I checked a few samples, and I wanded one person when the metal detector went off three times. Most of this I knew how to do from my mobile training. I say, “most,” because I had not been trained on checking samples that were anything but precious metals. So when the first guy came with samples to check, I started doing them the way we check on mobile. It turned out to be the wrong way to do it, but I hadn’t been trained, so I think I will probably be forgiven. Anyway, tomorrow at 4:30 in the AM I’ll be up to go to work and get trained to do what I have already done. Lol The next day I’ll be trained on Warfield, another position I can now do since it doesn’t require any driving. This way I can cover shifts in these two areas while I am waiting for my driver’s license. I don’t think I’ll get as many hours as I want, but I gotta hand it to Safety Net Security, they’ve kept me busy with training shifts and got me the money I needed to get half-way established here in Trail.

The other part of the good news about my security guard license is that I can almost immediately start working for another security company to fill in the extra hours that I’m not getting from SNS because I still don’t have my driver’s license. That is, if I can get work at another security company that doesn’t require a driver’s license. That might not be so easy, and I may have to settle for minimum wage, but this is how I roll when I live in Canada.

Another bit of good news, believe it or not, is my BC Service Card came in. Now I have at least bare minimum health coverage and a personal health number in case of medical emergency. So I got THAT goin’ for me… which is nice. But the big thing is I can now get my FISHING license. This might be really great for me because right now there is a bounty on pike caught in the Columbia River. 10 bucks a head! I have already fixed up the rod Art gave to me. The reel was no good so I bought a new one and the rod needed a new tip and had to be glued so the reel could line up with the eyelets. I did all that on my day off yesterday. Sunday. On Saturday I got home from my Ag shift at around 7, slept till noonish, went to Canadian Tire and bought all the stuff I will need to go hunting pike, then went to visit Mom and Art. It was a surprise drop-in visit and had to be because of my BAD news. You KNEW it was coming. Why else do I write these posts and give the Fates so much to work with?

What, you might wonder, is the latest Canadian inadequacy that has met with my livery disapproval? My phone’s been turned off! You could almost have guessed that one, couldn’t you? Still, “Come on you fuckin’ Fates! Three things at a time! Or even two? Eh?” But no, they’re piling it on. Nothing new to me, as my close friends and fellow accomplices in survival are aware, but it’s always heartening when the sheer inequity of my taxing slog through life in the face of over-extenuating circumstances is recognized. When I was telling my Mom and Art about my phone being turned off, after all the troubles I've had since I've been here they were both saying, "What the frig? You have some extraordinary luck on you!" They aren't the first and won't likely be the last. I surely do! But it's fun to complain about it. And it's kind of a good feeling when somebody doesn't just default to "Everything is your own damn fault." I won't mention any names but there have been many who just assumed that about me. 

Trail is nothing yet like Seoul or Gwangju or even other large Asian cities where one can find a pub, bar, restaurant or hang-out popular with expats and engage in fascinating, arbitrary conversation with strangers. I met a Kiwi fellow in the German Bar in Gwangju who regaled the table with stories of how he had drunk the tap water of every major city in Asia and survived; a Canadian ESL teacher in Seoul’s Fat Albert’s Pub who had kayaked the Yangtse River and woken up in her tent to Chinese soldiers pointing their rifles at her head; an American military helicopter pilot who crashed a barbecue at my apartment in Seoul told me of a bullet that went in the bottom of his thigh, out the top, rattled around in his cockpit for a while and then showed me the scars on his leg and the bullet on a chain around his neck; a British newspaper reporter I met in Eastern Promises Restaurant in Kemang, Jakarta, Indonesia who told me that the bar of the Commodore Hotel in Beirut has a parrot that can accurately mimic the sounds of gunfire and bombs; I worked with a gal in Yongin, Korea who rode the roof of a bus in India by mistake; an Australian writer I met hiking in Korea told me she had played soccer with some monks at a temple in the mountains of Tibet; I sparked up a conversation with two Dutch guys in a bar on Kowsan Road in Bangkok, Thailand whose luggage had been lost by Thai Air on the same day MY luggage was lost by Thai Air… I could go on and on.

So far here, all I get are stories of yardwork and home improvements. If I give it time and put in the social effort I’m sure I’ll eventually find some bush gurus and acquaintances with endlessly entertaining stories of logging, mining, fishing, hunting and the like, but for now things are a bit boring in comparison to what I have grown accustomed to overseas. During my visit with Mom and Art on Saturday afternoon they told me of their recent landscaping exploits, and I told them the story of my phone being disconnected. 

Above is the pear tree I pruned. I guess I didn't kill it eh? To the left is the garden that's coming out. Below are the planters Art made for Mom. They have automatic sprinklers too. Cool, eh? 

In mid-March when I landed in Vancouver I knew I’d need a phone and took the first offer I saw. It was Bell. I paid a 30 dollar hook-up fee and my first 100-dollar monthly bill. Just a bit over 130 bucks with all taxes. So I was good until mid-April. In EARLY April I went to The Source in Castlegar to get automatic direct debit set up with Bell. I brought a paper from my bank that they gave me for that purpose. The teenager who set it up told me it might take up to a month and I would get messages saying that payments are due, but I was to ignore those messages and wait. They’d take the money out. So I waited and waited. Nothing was taken out of my account that I could see. I called one of the numbers on the Bell website for service. It was a girl. She sounded like she was at a call center in Manila. After checking on my identity with several questions like my birthday and mother’s maiden name, she quoted me a bunch of information that came up on her computer when she brought up my account. All of it was wrong. Nevertheless, I was told to be patient and that everything was fine.

I waited and noticed no money coming out of my account. Meanwhile, I was spending like a guy who just moved to a new country and needed to put furniture and food into a new apartment. But the whole time I made sure I had enough money for my storage locker in Victoria and my phone bills. The storage was taken out but the phone bill never was. And the data started getting really REALLY slow! I mean back to the stone age slow. I had used up all my data on phone plans in Korea and noticed a slow-down, but nothing like this! And I got a message that my next payment was due May 15^th. It was like May 10^th or something. I had drained my account buying stuff for the apartment and was going to be paid on the 19^th. So I called another number and did the requisite telephone gymnastics before I got a person in another call center. Might have been Manila, might have been Delhi, it was a brown voice that told me he couldn’t help me but gave yet another number to call. I got another guy with an unmistakably Filipino accent. I asked if the payment could be delayed until the 19^th and he said he didn’t know how to do that. I then asked if I could somehow go to another The Source office and make a payment in cash. He said he wasn’t sure of THAT either. He then brought up my account on his computer and said, “Your last payment of $150 was… today!” I said that was wrong. My payments are for 100 and change and I didn’t have any money taken out of my account today. He then did some other searching and made some other incorrect guesses before saying, “Okay, sir, don’t worry. Your next payment will be taken out on June 1^st. So you are okay.” I confirmed that he was positive of what he was telling me and I didn’t need to make a cash payment. He repeated June 1^st, don’t worry.

May 15^th rolls around and the internet speed was back to usable again. I thought maybe this dude knew what he was talking about. Then, precisely at 12 noon, I got cut off. No data, can’t phone or receive phone calls. All I can do is use wifi. Hilariously, that day I got a message before being cut off that my next payment is due June 1^st.

So on Saturday, before visiting my folks, I went to The Source in Trail and there were three Indian guys working there. I think I got the most senior of the three because he was helping both of the others while dealing with me. He actually told me some useful information! He said there had been an attempt made to take money out of my account on May 5 and I had been charged $30 for having insufficient funds. I checked today and I had sufficient funds on May 5^th so the direct debit isn’t working and I am getting charged for it. He then told me the amount they were trying to withdraw was 230 bucks. I guess the 100 or so for the 15^th of April to the 15^th of May, the 100 or so for the 15^th of May to the 15^th of June and the 30 for insufficient funds? Not sure. He asked, “Haven’t you received any emails itemizing your bills and informing you when they will be withdrawn?” I said I had only received texts, which the guy at The Source in Castlegar had told me to ignore. He said, “Well you should be getting emails. Something is definitely haywire here.” So he gave me YET ANOTHER number to call and all the information I will need to give whoever answers the phone. My customer ID and account number. He said they probably will not be able to do anything. I will need to go to my bank to get things sorted out. But he said at least they’d be able to tell me what the 230-dollar bill was for.

So now I have to wait for a day that I am not working, my bank is open, and have access to a phone to get things worked out. For now, I can’t call anyone and all the people to whom I have sent resumes who are trying to get in touch with me by phone are receiving a message that my number is no longer in service. I have to walk a block and a half down the street and use free wifi to check my email and Facebook messages on my phone. And about half the time I have to deal with one of the street people in downtown Trail. My Peeps! So far they’ve been harmless. “Did you hear that Fates?” There’s one girl who asks for money all the time and I’m pretty sure she has a lot more than I have. The other day I was using wifi in front of the drugstore and she came by singing a happy tune. “Hey man, do you have any money you can spare?” I said, “No, I don’t. Do YOU?” She says, “I just had a shot of (I can’t remember but it’s probably the free shots they get of the socially acceptable, more pharmaceutical versions of heroine or fentanyl or animal tranquilizer or whatever the going street addiction is these days).” Then she says, “You probably know my Dad. [insert name here] Have you ever worked for him?” “Nope,” I reply. “Well everybody knows him. Okay thanks for all your help. See ya.”

I’ll probably go to A&W tonight for supper so I can upload this blog post and send resumes to a few of the interesting jobs I have been alerted to by Indeed or Jobs BC. I STILL haven’t heard a thing from any other job I’ve applied for. About 60 or 70 jobs by now I’d guess. Not even a PFO letter. Nada! It is UNBELIEVABLY hard to get a job in Canada nowadays if Trail is any indication! I bought a book for my shift tomorrow at Ag because it is so boring there! I’ll be working with a trainer so we can chat and it won’t be nearly as dull as the shift I was thrown into there on Friday, but just in case I bought “The Little Drummer Girl” by John Le Carre. I have read a few of his books in the past and really like his writing. There is a highly topical quote right at the beginning that goes, "... depression, inflation, insolvency, unemployment, all the usual and apparently incurable ailments of a massively prosperous capitalist economy." Canada looks to be critically prosperous from what I’ve seen so far.

But, as I said in the beginning, I knew the start of life back home was going to be the difficult part. With any luck (calling all Fates) I’ll get my phone turned back on or get another number from a better provider, I’ll get home internet, my roomie will move in, I’ll get my driver’s license, I’ll get another job to augment my SNS income, and the worst will be over. Hmmmm… that sounds a bit like throwing caution to the wind optimism, doesn’t it? Updates will follow as events warrant.

I'll leave on a positive note. This is a pic of the rainbow trout I ate the other day. Taste of home! 

Unsafe Driving School Only $979.99!

 

I work security at Teck, a large metal smelter. Just training so far waiting for my security guard license and my driver’s license. I worked security to put me through school in Canada so I could use my degree outside of Canada and when I come back to Canada, I work security because, like a lot of Canadians, my Canadian university education (and a ticket) get me aride on the bus. It’s almost worthless here having a degree in English and half a master’s in education ain’t even getting me a better seat on that bus. The strange thing is, since coming home, I’m thinking that might not be the case for so long. There are a lot more people, in the big cities and small towns as well, that don’t speak English as their first language. I reckon they could share some of the money with a Canadian that they earned since moving here, (a record high amount and I'm not talking about rumours of the government just handing refugees instant packages either) to brush up on their English skills a bit. But that’s probably wishful thinking. Making them speak either of the languages of Canada while they work here has probably found its way onto the long list of things about which, as quality Canadians, we should be offended and/or outraged.

I work with a bunch of Indians, and I would not use that ignorant word to refer to any native Canadian, they’re from India and they all speak English well. They learn it in school there. They’re fluent in a few languages including English. They’re super smart and they work hard too. They all seem to have second and even third jobs. I’m learning a lot about how my country handles immigrants from my co-workers from India. As you might expect, it usually makes me respect my co-workers (and for that matter any person taking on the challenge of demonstrating to the Canadian government that they will be a “successful,” “contributing” citizen of this country) a little more and my country a little less. In my 56 years of life I have never qualified, by the standards Canada uses, as a “successful, contributing” citizen. I don’t make enough money and I don’t pay enough taxes. That’s what Canada wants from its citizens foreign OR local: money. That and domestication. Our farmers want us to be good livestock. Unspirited chattel.

One of the shapes our multi-faceted Canadian taxation can take on is that of licensing and certification. It’s a sub-category under the heading of “endless bureaucracy” that I am pretty sure I included in my magnum opus blog post entitled “A Taxing Endeavor” way back when I wrote it and calculated the 100% taxation rate the average Canadian endures. But I’ve lived in Canada a minute longer than I had when I last posted and can add a story or two to the main bullet point of it: it ain’t easy becoming Canadian again. And, fair play, Canada knows it won’t get out of me what it gets out of these zealous, energetic, obedient immigrants. Canada would rather I just stay the hell out of Canada and has already welcomed me to the party that is living in the Great White North by slicing me a hank of the cold shoulder meat and making me sit at the card table in the corner with the kiddies.

I’m trying to do the Taoist thing and find the joy in my current situation. I told my Mom, “Well, I knew getting started was going to be the hardest part.” And she responded with a surprisingly Zen, “Yup. Just keep that in mind. Soon you’ll look back on this and laugh at all these troubles.” The Christians call this building up treasures in heaven. The military calls it embracing the suck. I just call it being home again.

I failed my driver’s test again. That’s one fail for the learner’s and two fails for the road test. It would take a big man to admit to that much failure and I am not a big man. THIS time I had more practice under my belt driving in Art’s car in Trail. And before I go any further, I’ve driven for 30 years. I’ve driven 100 different kinds of car and truck, motorbikes, three-wheelers, four-wheelers, snowmobiles, jetskis, heavy equipment like loaders, graders, skidders, backhoes, even drove an 18-wheeler in a parking lot one time. Hell, I drove a helicopter for about 7 seconds. I’ve had driving jobs like delivering ice and working at a used car lot. I’ve driven in the bush for fishing, firewood and as part of my diamond drilling job. I’ve done challenging driving like going across a bridge that consisted of two beams a little wider than truck tires in the winter WITH a load of super valuable core. I also had to drive cars up onto those car lot platforms you used to see in front of dealerships. You go up two planks at an angle that leaves you nothing but blue sky out the window to look at.

I have driven a lot in my life so when I say “practice” I mean shaking off the rust. I haven’t been driving for a while because it’s nowhere near as necessary for everyone in the countries where I’ve been working. In Canada driving IS necessary. Things are far apart. A lot of jobs that have nothing to do with driving advertise that you need a class 5 license to do them because the places you do them are impossible or very difficult to get to by public transit and impossibly expensive by taxi. This gives the licensing bureau an awful lot of power to push whatever rules, regulations and expen$e$ they want onto pro$pective licen$ee$. $urely they wouldn’t take advantage of thi$ would they? $eem$ to be $omething wrong with my keyboard…

I practiced in Art’s car in Trail a few times since the last road test fiasco in Nelson with Tami’s car. I was confident and Art was confident. There was NO way they were gonna dog me this time! Even if they gave me the same examiner I was ready! My test was at 2:50 and Art met me in front of my place just after 2. It was supposed to rain on May 8^th, but it turned out to be a beautiful day. Maybe my luck was changing. I drove to the office and went to park on the street where everybody parks to do their tests and the whole street was blocked off. I had to circle around a few times to find a parking space. Silver City Days start on the 10^th. It’s an annual festival in Trail. So I guess they were cleaning the streets. Not a big deal. A little bump in the road, as it were, but we weren’t late so it wouldn’t have any effect. Nothing to worry about.

I met my new examiner, Aaron I believe was her name, who bore a shockingly similar list of physical qualities to the previous examiner! Same age, gender, hair colour, body type, height, weight, choice of clothing, stern and businesslike demeanor… but that was nothing to worry about either.

At the beginning of the test she actually TOLD me we’re gonna be doing a lot of shoulder checking, and at the end of the test, the top reason for failure was “A’s right turn shoulder checks.” A1 is shoulder check and A2 is scan. I guess if I take the course I’d know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean although I’m certain it wouldn’t improve my driving. It’d probably make me a worse driver. I have a case here and I will present it. Bear with me.

Let’s start with the first example of why I think this shoulder check preoccupation, no doubt one of the foundations of the revolution in defensive driving they teach in the courses these examiners seem mandated to flog, is not just horseshit but dangerous horseshit. When I learned baseball, the first thing I was taught was to keep my eye on the ball. When I learned golf, the first thing I was taught was to keep my eye on the ball. When I learned to drive, the first thing I was taught was to keep my eyes on the road. And for very good reason! If I am in position A traveling to position B, almost all potential hazards are in position B. It is true that in some instances, like changing lanes, a hazard can come up from behind without you seeing it. It has happened to me before. That is why I totally agree with shoulder checks and blind spot checks when changing lanes. I changed lanes a few times, once without being told to, and every time I did my blind spot check. Those were not the shoulder checks she docked me for. No, the shoulder checks were ones that I find completely useless to be honest but can learn about for the low, low price of $979.99 from ICBC this month.

Throughout the half hour I spent driving Ms. Aaron I saw her jerking her head around incessantly almost every turn I made. At the end of our test Aaron said, “You need a little more practice.” By that she meant for the low, low price of $979.99, but I was thinking, “Yeah I could still knock a little rust off so give me my license and let me practice for the love of Morgan Freeman!” Then she said, “You are trusting your mirrors too much and still need to do more shoulder checks. You might have seen me doing them for you.” I said, “Yeah I did,” and stopped myself before saying, “and can’t for the life of me figure out what ghosts and goblins you were afraid might jump out to get us,” or something like that. Here are a few examples that I think fully illustrate my point although, being only heresy, will not stand up in a challenge to Aaron’s assessment of my driving. Both Aaron and the previous instructor made double sure I had no phone or other recording device that could create evidence of anything I write about my two road tests. There’s a good reason they do that, and I think it will become clear if it isn’t already.

We’ll start with the second thing listed on Aaron’s report as a “violation” which, if I’m not mistaken, qualifies as an instant failure. She wrote it as “35/30 exit playground zone.” We had been driving by Gyro Park and through a playground zone and I had been keeping the speed at a steady 30. She told me to turn right onto another road. I stopped at the stop sign, checked over my left shoulder for traffic, pedestrians, dogs, cyclists, you know… and I saw her jerking her head around to the right again. On the right was just the side of the road. I think there was a sidewalk. I knew it was clear because I had seen it and observed it to be clear while we were driving past it. Okay, I was assuming that in the 3 seconds it took to stop and check the other, more hazardous areas, nothing had materialized on that sidewalk, but I guess that’s a violation of the new driving rules they teach for the low, low price of $979.99. I proceeded right onto the street which had painted on the pavement “40 km/h.” I can’t say to a certainty, but I think during all her rubbernecking, Aaron had missed the big, white “40 km/h” sign painted on the road because when I accelerated to above 30 RIGHT OVER the “40 km/h” paint, she went, “Woah, woah, woah, we’re still in the playground zone,” and wrote me up for it.

At the end of the exam when she asked if I had questions I brought up the 40 km/h sign on the road and she had no idea what I was talking about. I think she didn’t see it because her stupid right shoulder check took her eyes off the more important stuff going on in the road in front of us. She eventually equivocated by saying, “It meant 40 km/h AHEAD.” I’m gonna go check and see and if it doesn’t why, I’m gonna – do nothing cuz there’s nothing I can do.

Then came the bus. It was the 43 bus! The one I have taken many times since living here in Trail. It goes between Trail and Montrose where Mom and Art live. I was going through a 4-way stop through a lane that had an island that forced me to turn right. Aaron hadn’t told me which way to turn so I sort of jokingly said, “So right here I’m guessing?” Her response, “What does the sign say?” On the island was a no left turn sign. So I said, “No left turn ha ha ha.” I seriously think she thought I might have gone straight or left there! That, I think made her nervous. While she was AGAIN checking the sidewalk to our right that I had seen nothing on the entire length of the road as we approached the intersection, I was checking other vehicles going through the intersection and the 43 bus that had stopped at the bus stop on the right side of the road we were turning onto. I executed the turn without the stupid right shoulder check and because of that was able to observe the bus driver waiting for me to pass, only turning on his/her left indicator when I was beside him/her to let the motorists BEHIND me know the bus was turning onto the street. All Aaron saw was me driving by a bus that had its left turn signal on and she went, “Woah, woah, woah, you have to be aware of that bus.” All I said was, “Yeah,” with the intonation of “Well duh!” But that didn’t convince her. Again, I could be making this all up. No evidence.

Okay one more. Last one. We were at a 3-way intersection with lights. I had a green and there was one car across the intersection who also had a green but was not going because traffic in his lane was backed up to the intersection and not moving. I looked to my left and saw traffic not moving, looked behind the car across the intersection and there was no traffic at all behind him, looked in my rear view and saw at least one car also waiting, then I saw the motorist in the car signal me to make me turn. As I did it I was thinking, “Oh man, I’m going down for this,” but not only did I get where I was going but the car behind me did too. For all I know the car behind that one too! I know that car had the right of way, but through driver communication he relinquished it and allowed at least two other motorists to move. Keeping traffic moving used to be something motorists were allowed to do even if they had to alter right-of-way rules and use personal discretion. I guess that’s just not allowed any more. The rules are more important than keeping traffic moving. There was nothing unsafe about it, but, she was right, he had the right of way…

Okay I lied, one more example. I was in downtown Trail again turning onto the bridge street. Again a RIGHT HAND TURN. Again there was a little triangular island that allowed me only a right hand turn. But this time there was also a crosswalk. I stopped at the crosswalk. I waited while a chance to turn right and get onto the bridge road passed me by. Aaron actually opened her mouth to ask me what I was waiting for or some such question when she saw two pedestrians emerge from the right hand blind spot, wave at me, and cross the crosswalk. With all her fucking rubbernecking she hadn’t seen them and without the useless right hand turn shoulder check, I HAD.

I am being tested and evaluated on rules. Rules always have limitations when you are dealing with the human brain. Rules are what you use for beginners. The advanced can be trusted with personal discretion. Or at least that’s the way it used to be. I guess not any more.

I’m SO disappointed! I can’t do another road test for a month now. I don’t know if Teck is going to allow me to keep working there since they want me for mobile security. This could have cost me my job! Although, there are some things I can do that don’t require driving. I have little doubt that the best course of action will be to sign up for one of these courses for the low, low price of $979.99 so that I can learn how to be a worse driver and pass my next road test. But I guess I’ll only have to do the damn rubbernecking for ½ an hour and never again afterwards. It’s already tough trying to remind myself to keep my hands at 10 and 2 and when I am turning not to grab the wheel underhanded or do a one handed Karate Kid wax on spin of the wheel.

There has been another setback in the security guard license saga as well, but I should be getting it this week or next week. At least then I’ll be able to wear the uni.

A bit of good news: I may have found a roomie named Fred. But I’ll have more info on that next time. There’s no telling what suffering Fred will cause me to take joy in!

How I Know I'm Going To Heaven When I Die

 

The root word of “public” is the Latin “publicus,” which means, “Of the state. Ordinary. Common.” In essence, everyday people, ordinary Joe and Jessica Blows, the vast majority of us sad sack, filthy commoners BELONG to the state. That’s what our owners and overlords mean when they call us the “public.” It's not to be confused with the word "publican," however. In Biblical times publicans were tax collectors and thought of themselves, and rightly so, as the scum of the earth. They were the ones who collected all the money from the "public." And since they were pretty much freelancers, it was a very difficult racket in which to remain honest. But even at that, the exorbitant tax rate charged by the publicans who even considered themselves lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut, was somewhere in the neighborhood of 5-10% from my research. In a nutshell, the "public" worked and paid for practically everything they got from the government even though what they got from the government benefitted the rich more. I don't think I need to include, but I will, that the rich paid zilch. That hasn't changed much has it? In fact even today, when we the public pay FAR more than 5-10% tax, a smart guy like Peter Zeihan writes off a smarter guy like Bernie Sanders, whose main platform is getting the rich to pay more taxes, as a "religious leader" with a "cult following."  Just look at this "religious extremism" for example: In the richest country in the world while experiencing record corporate profits, if you work 40 hours a week you shouldn't have to live in poverty. I guess I'm a member of THAT cult.

But speaking of Bible times, let me wax Biblical on yo asses for a bit. A good buddy of mine recently drew my attention to an interesting Bible story from the book of Daniel. Chapter 4 actually. It’s a tale about King Nebuchadnezzar, (who I have known as NEBBAH since boyhood) who dreams of a beautiful, gigantic tree that gives shade to all animals, feeds all of mankind, and the fowls of the earth nest in its branches. Behold a watcher, and a holy one came down from heaven and announced that this was no good. Cut it down, they ordered, chase away the beasts and birds and scatter the fruit. Then, oddly, comes verse 17 which says, “ This matter is by the decree of the watchers, and the demand by the word of the holy ones: to the intent that the living may know that the most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever he will, and setteth up over it the basest of men.”

For my Atheist friends I hasten to add that the "most High," who is said to have ultimate authority here, is just some person, being or entity these mysterious watchers and holy ones blame everything on. We're expected to believe them, but ultimately left with the choice of whether or not to put our faith in Him/Her/It.

Now in the Bible nobody can interpret this dream except Daniel. But I reckon, at the risk of being blasphemous, I’ll give it a whirl. I would interpret the “watcher” to be a member of government and the “holy one” to be a banker of some sort. Probably a member of a central bank or the World Bank. They are our owners and are as close to holy as we have on the earth. Them and the IMF. The watchers/government are known as “the state.” That’s who we belong to, and they are our handlers, the ones who deal with us riff-raff directly. They report to the bankers who control all the resources that we work to produce. They can’t have us eating for free from any glorious, giant tree or we won’t have to work to make them rich and powerful. So they chop it down, hoard the fruit and wood for themselves and maintain the norm.

The most High must be God. Hence the capital H. Now this may conflict with many a theory/belief/mental certainty of a merciful and kind God, but so do kids getting cancer, telemarketing, and mosquitos so bear with me. What does it say in the verse? The intent of the lumberjacking and produce hoarding was to drive home the point to the living (that’s us worms) that God rules the kingdom of men (Earth) and purposely gives control to who(m) He desires – the basest of men. Let me repeat that because I had to hear it again when my buddy said it to me. God wants the scumbags of the earth to be the ones in control. Not TOTAL control of course, that’s God’s, but he sets up the dregs of the planet, I mean the soul-sucked, amoral, puppy-killing, automatic rebilling, Ponzi scheming, home loan shorting, disaster-profiteering, cheat-their-own-mother fuckers of this world… those are the vermin GOD sets up as our owners.

This fits into my theory that the only hell is where we are right now. It’s all about contrast. There can be no light without the contrast of darkness and how could we believe that death (whatever it holds that Hamlet and I aren’t brave enough to shuffle off our mortal coils and find out) is preferable to life without some pretty crappy earthly shit to serve as contrast? Death, even if it’s nothing, is going to be some kind of heaven if you ask me! The longer I live the more mornings start off with, “Dammit! Didn’t die peacefully in my sleep again. Well I guess I’ll just do this for another day…”

Now before you get all worried that I’m suicidal, or even a pessimist, let me assure you that it is quite the opposite. The other day I said to my Mom, "Well I guess I'll apply to a few more jobs so they can ignore me." She said, "Gads! You're not a very positive thinker, are you?" (Yes, my Mom said "gads") I replied, "Au contraire ma mere. My positivity is that which keeps me trying and failing." My optimism has always been what has kept me in good supply of failure and disappointment. Maybe I'd be a happier person if I just thought more negatively and gave up more often. Think on that a spell. 

I appreciate the good things we have as part of our hellish existence on our hellish planet. If not for those things I WOULD be suicidal and if I kill myself before I suffer some more, it’ll make death less of a heaven, won’t it? The contrast won’t be as extreme. It’s not like I’m making this up! It’s a Buddhist concept I’ve been struggling with for a while. It’s also Biblical if you read closely and don’t try to convince yourself that the moral of the Bible is “the good guys win.” That ain't the book I read. There will be trials and tribulations. The Buddhists tell us we must figure out how to take joy in our suffering. The Princess Bride tells us that life IS suffering and anyone who tells you different is selling something. And trying to become one of those "holy ones" or "watchers" probably.

We are all afforded enough love, friendship, sleeping in, music, cartoons, alcohol, naps, board games, food, strawberry/rhubarb pie, sports and other pleasures in life to keep us from offing ourselves and flying too swiftly to that undiscovered country from whence no man returns and not getting sufficient contrast for it to be considered heaven. Those who are truly good people should suffer enough to welcome death. Those who are in control on earth and don’t want to die will find a well deserved hell in death. Now I don’t know if that ratio works perfectly for everyone or not, but it’s a nice thing to cling to in hard times.

So let me tell you a few of the recent things that have increased the contrast and improved the concept of death for me so much that I believe I’m going to heaven when I die. That’s part of the reason for this blog. And let’s face it, reading about the hellish bits of our shared human experience is more fun anyway. After all, who was the protagonist of Paradise Lost?

The blinding bureaucracy of Canada. I am trying to become a citizen of my own country again. How is that even something I need to do? Doing so requires an unconscionable amount of paperwork! This includes a good deal of superfluous and just plain stupid paperwork. And it would be kinda nice if it were only paperwork. But with the advent of the computer age, our government (watchers) have complicated our lives by adding webpages and computers that are nothing of not undependable for anything that doesn't involve the transfer of money from citizens to our government.

I wrote, and then RE-wrote the learner's test for my driver's license and couldn't believe some of the questions that were so obviously included not to keep the streets safe but to make people fail the test. I've seen this in the ESL world, particularly in IELTS, where testers put these highly questionable questions in tests and every time test takers get them wrong their power-tripping heads swell a little more thinking they are superior in their English abilities to these people studying it as their second, third or extra language of some number. Sad human beings. In the learner's test there was a question about when school zone speed limits are in effect. In the book it said from 8-5 on school days. I WROTE in the book while studying, "What about at night?" Same thing for playground zones (dawn to dusk). So I got a question that asked when school zone speed limits are in effect. I chose from 8-5 and got it wrong. The correct answer was "all day" or "at all times" or something like that. Then there was the 

sign. Does it mean construction zone ahead or construction zone begins ahead? It actually means there's a crew working ahead and/or a zone with people working BEGINS ahead. I don't know how important the difference is. Not enough to make things one iota safer for anyone. Shouldn't that be the point of these tests? Not how many pass or fail? It's almost like they're doing the age old, tried and false bell curving. With driver's exams. Before I move on to the actual road test, an annoying little aside that will make death a little more like heaven to me: I got the school zone question on my second try at the test and confidently chose the "at all times" answer. I was told that the correct response was from 8-5 on school days. I got the same question "wrong" twice! Now, there is no way I can prove any of this because people are not allowed to use their phones while writing the test. So you just have to take my word for it. Convenient for the power-tripping, swelled-headed test administers, isn't it? Makes me look like a conspiracy theorist.

Okay, speaking of that, I'm going on one of my trundles. I'll return to the road test (probably). However, I had a pile of foreign currency I needed to exchange and from what I could tell it looked like TD would be the best bank to exchange it. It was money left over from trips to Guam, Japan, Thailand, the Philippines, and some Korean cash I had left over. While I was in the bank exchanging it, one other customer came in. He went to the teller beside me and said something about having his account hacked into. Now if you are a regular reader with a good memory, you may recall that I had a TD account hacked into TWICE while I was living in Korea. It was a nightmare to get the bank to believe me at first, then they told me there was no way I could shut down my account from Korea. BOTH times it was the same girl who had opened up a Canadian Tire credit card on MY account. This is something I can't do! I've tried! Anyway, I asked who this person was and if something could be done and the bank seemed more interested in protecting her than my money. So I shut down the account as soon as I got back to Canada. WHILE I WAS THERE, another guy in line at the bank was complaining about having HIS account hacked into! They told him to calm down and took him to a separate room so the other customers wouldn't get wind of how unsafe their money is at TD bank. The chances of my experiencing two security breaches of my own and two other people with the same experiences on the only other two times I went to the bank is a very strong indication of what TD doesn't want its customers to know: Your money isn't safe there! Don't bank there!

So why did I include that? I guess to point out that despite the mountains of bureaucracy every Canadian has in their lives, we don't seem to be good at it yet. I mean except when it comes to us "public" "commoners" giving our money to our "watchers" that is. Which brings me to the road test. On the learner's permit I got April 3rd it said, "Eligible to book a road test on or after April 3rd." So I log onto the website to book a road test and get, "Not currently eligible. You are not currently eligible for any road tests..." So I call and do the requisite telephone gymnastics every government number subjects us to including, whether it's true or not, "We are experiencing larger than usual caller traffic at this time. We hope you packed a lunch and have a book to read. Thank you." Or something like that. So I have to wait until the next working day and go in person to the motor vehicles office and ask what's up. Bear in mind I have a job doing mobile security that is on hold while we all wait for this endless process to be completed. 

So Monday morning I take the bus to the appropriate office, show them the screen I get when I try to book a road test and am told there is nothing they can do. I book the learner's test, I take the learner's test, I do the road test at this office, but I don't book the road test there? That's right, I was told, you will need to call this number and I'm handed a card. So I call the number and am told that the next available road test in Trail, where I've been practicing and am familiar with the roads, is in August. However, there is an opening in Nelson for April 11th. Well I don't know if Art or Mom will go all the way to Nelson with me to take this road test, but I tell them to book it anyway since I can always cancel. I call my good friend Tami, who is largely responsible for getting me the job I have waiting for this hoop-jumping to end, and she says she'll let me use her car. Tami to the rescue!... or so I thought. 

The day of the test arrives. The weather is rainy. The only time I can get to Castlegar to meet with Tami and drive to Nelson with her leaves us barely enough time to get there before the 11:05 test time. So I will have no time to get used to the new car or the new city. But I think back to the other two road tests I've taken and the 30+ years of safe driving I've done and foolishly believe I should be okay. 

We arrive at 10:45 or something like that. Tami even asked if I wanted to practice a bit. But I figured it'd be good to check in and make sure they know I'm there. So we did. I was asked if I was there to do my road test and when I said I was they put me to the side of the main line-up with a young guy who also said he was there for his road test. I asked the lady who separated us where the washroom was and she went behind the counter, got a key, led me to the door and unlocked it for me. So after taking a leak I stood over to the side where I was placed and waited. And waited. It was probably 11:30 or later by the time another lady called my name and took me to a wicket where she sat at a computer and took my details (and my money). She then told me I had a late fee of 25 bucks added to the usual 50-dollar fee. She also said the examiner might not be available at all. She looked behind her and then went to another office and fetched - guess who - the bathroom key lady. She comes out and gives me a flustered look like I was greatly inconveniencing her and says, "Is there any reason why you're late?" 

Well of course I reminded her of the fact that she opened the can for me WELL before my appointment time, but still she and the other lady looked as though they were weighing the options. Should we allow this guy to test, remove the late fee, or just be bitches? As if they were doing me a huge favour they decided to remove the late fee and the examiner decided to do her job. So we went out to get into Tami's car. By now the weather was atrocious! It was a freezing rain with some pretty strong winds and just a hundred feet up the mountains it was snowing. She tells me to go get into the car and unlock the passenger door while she waits. So I got in and was fumbling with the controls on the driver's door trying to figure out how to unlock the passenger side when she came up to the door, tried it and almost screamed, "Hurry up! Let me in! It's freezing out here!" 

After analyzing the incident on the trip back (with Tami driving) we agreed that maybe because of the weather this lady was hiding in her office and hoping we'd just leave and she wouldn't have to do the road test at all. But I didn't want to wait till July or August. No way! So after seeing my unfamiliarity with the vehicle she starts asking questions like, "Where is the defroster? Where is the registration? Where is the emergency brake?" Tami had shown me the e-brake location, I correctly pointed out the defroster and I told her I assumed the registration and insurance papers were in the glovebox where most people keep them. They were. Unfortunately after that little victory the rain started coming down really hard and I was not sure how to adjust the wiper speed. I saw the examiner take a note. Then she asked me how to turn on the lights if I were to drive into a dark tunnel. I am STILL not sure if I got that answer right. Probably not. She never did ask if the car was mine so I'm sure I got docked a lot for not knowing the vehicle. And okay, the wipers and the lights ARE safety features and CAN make things safer but I'm borrowing a car to take the test. That's never happened before? Or even more nowadays with the Covid backlog? 

I sound like I'm making excuses here but it went on. We're driving up a street and she asks, "What are you hazards here?" I said, "Ummm... there are some barricades where they are doing construction, is that what you mean?" She goes, "The weather, other motorists, trees, parked vehicles, pedestrians, possible animals..." I said something like, "Oh okay, I guess so," and chuckled a bit because (ffs) an earthquake could happen, the brakes could fail, aliens could invade, Elephant Mountain could suddenly blow up like Krakatoa and cover us both in molten lava too! Her hand was a blur furiously jotting down notes now as though she honestly believed I didn't know the things she listed were possible hazards. I dunno, maybe she had not seen my 30 years of clean driving in Canada? Or maybe the examiners don't bother finding out? 

We went up and down hills, through intersections, around the neighbourhood many times... it was well past noon now and the driving was extra hazardous since it was lunch time and despite the weather there were more cars, pedestrians, bikes, animals, wheelchairs, Rascals, skateboards, and I was navigating them all just fine and dandy thank you very much. Then she got me to go out onto the highway. I took the exit at 50 and in order to get into the highway had to check blindspots and everything, but it turned out the exit became a lane. Something I would have known if I'd practiced in Nelson probably. I had also sped up to get to the same speed as traffic on the highway but it turned out that the limit there was 50 and the other drivers were all speeding. I got docked for not wanting to barge into faster moving traffic forcing them to slow down. I mean you could debate that following the speed limit there might have actually constituted more dangerous driving. Then we went back to the downtown area where we'd circled many times already and I guess I did what she was waiting for. I pulled up to a 4-way intersection and my light was green. She told me to turn right. I got part way through the right turn but slowed down to wait for some pedestrians crossing the street. While I waited for them the light turned red. She told me that I failed to stop at the red light before turning right.

Anyway, she finally had enough to fail me so we didn't even do a parallel park. We went back to the lot and she told me to back into a spot. The final straw I guess. Tami's car has a rear window wiper and I couldn't figure out how to get it to work and since the side windows and mirrors were covered in rain, it was a tough thing to park in that spot. But I did it. A bit slowly, but I did it. We sat in that spot and she accusationally went over the mistakes I had made. She added that I had gone 40 in a school zone, the one and ONLY thing she had not pointed out immediately after I did it, which makes me think she just made it up. But again, you can't argue because there is no proof. 

I was unfamiliar with the vehicle, I did not know the city well and hadn't driven in it since I was a teenager, and I was made to feel as uncomfortable as I've ever felt at any exam including ones I hadn't even studied for! This examiner was actually endangering herself and others with her TUDE! I re-write the road test May 8th in Trail where I've practiced driving using Art's car that I am familiar with. I sure hope I get a different examiner but there's a good chance it'll be her again. Won't THAT make some good blog fodder! 

I have worked two weeks at a job as a mobile (driving) security guard and I don't have my security guard license or my driver's license yet. I'm not driving and I can't wear any part of the uniform with the word "security" on it, but here I am toeing the line and obeying the absurd rules and regulations that give us all hellish inconvenience "for our safety and protection." At least 10 years of security experience and 30 years of clean driving mean nothing in the face of the bureaucratic zealots that people the government agencies of Canada. Our "watchers." 

Nebbah, your dream was prophetic!