Cost of the Iraq War

This past Saturday, the second anniversary of the US war in Iraq, 8 year old Emme and I attended a peace rally in Hyannis.
Virtually no major media outlet in the US covered the protests, which happened in some 800 cities.
We’ve heard about the loss of life – over 150,000 including over 1,500 American GI’s – and the staggering financial costs – $210 billion by the US alone.

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Child Predators

As regular readers of this blog know, I have 0 tolerance for people who hurt kids.
The latest mockery of our system of laws sits in a Florida jail tonight in the “person” of John Evander Couey, a piece of trash with a 30-year long criminal history ending in the sexual abuse and murder of a 9 year old girl.

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The Sanctity of Marriage?

So, the Republican right considers marriage – between a man and a woman – to be the foundation of our society.
Then, why is it that they’ve trashed the wishes of Terri Schaivo’s husband, Michael?
And after some 15 separate state and federal legal actions concerning this woman’s medical care – including an appeal to the Supreme Court, which threw the case out – what is the rationale, aside from political grandstanding, for Congress to get involved?

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BC Trip: Last Thoughts

I accomplished my goal of meeting and talking with as many Canadians as possible, something that pleased me a great deal.
With the exception of an old crank on Hornby – a wierd-looking fellow who obviously relishes the role of local eccentric – everyone there was kind and welcoming: the retiree/painter at the Qualicum arts centre, the helpful folks at Enterprise Rentals, the counter-culturalists on Denman, the .NET User Group leader at UVic, Ryan Storgaard the Microsoft Deep Dive speaker, Victoria realtor Mark Meischsner, the young land baron from Hormsby.
And this is not to mention the ladies at the local bank, the A&W and the fish market, the gent at Tim Hortons who on my first morning helped me figure out the currency, the maintenance guys at the resort who alternately kept me from immolating and electrocuting myself, the business manager who took the time to help me understand the RCI point system, the girl at Petro Canada who assured me that we had time to complete an application for a Petro card.
This is to say, I guess, that the people are as memorable as the spectacular scenery. I was treated with immaculate civility and grace.
Which leads me to wonder: how is it that Canada and the US, which were founded by people generally of the same stock, have such different values?
The Canadians I was lucky enough to meet seemed – all of them, regardless of station – well-informed, articulate and, when they had a job to do, wanted to do it to the best of their abilities.
Friends who have seen my photos remark on the same thing: how clean the environment is, how beautiful it looks. Could one say the same for here, even for Cape Cod, which the local Chamber of Commerce tells us is among the top vacation spots in North America?

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BC Trip, Part IV: A Seal, A Loon, Denman & Hornby Islands

After much indecision, I made the choice to extend stay, figuring a) the weather was horrible back “home” and a midnight ride in snow would be a grotesque way to end the trip, b) I shouldn’t spend my birthday in transit stress, c) it was supposed to be a beautiful weekend, d) the car and timeshare having been paid for through the 12th, it’d cost me only about C$200 to extend for two more days and e) with all the running around I’d been doing, I was dog-tired.
Seems like at least part of vacation should be, well, vacation.
Plus, the original schedule back would have meant leaving the resort at around 6:30 AM: when I made my flight reservations, I hadn’t factored in the 6 hours needed between there and actual flight time: 1 hour for driving to the ferry to be there half an hour before boarding, 2 hours for the ferry trip, 1 hour from ferry to rental place to airport, and 2 hours lead time at the airport.

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BC Trip, Part III: Wolf, Bear and Cougar Country

On the first day at the resort, I’d gone on a nature walk led by a member of the staff, the same fellow who maintains the several “water features” on site, including a gigantic aquarium in the restaurant and a tank of Coho salmon, which I got to feed.
It had been pretty good weather – in the fifties – but a little cloudy, so hearing the first prediction of sun, I decided to drive across the island to the West Coast, about a 2 hour trip.
Started in Ucluelet, a pleasant little town with few tourist amenities, but with easy access to the Wild Pacific Trail, where I took some of the nicest photos of the trip.
We’d talked on the nature hike about the tectonic plates to the West and even the East of the island. That week, after years of inactivity, Mt. St. Helens erupted, and there was a report of an active volcano in the ocean off Vancouver Island.
I’d heard stories about the West Coast having some of the most turbulent waters in the world, and on the day of my visit, the waves were particularly high.
I’m glad to have seen it before the whole thing slides back into the sea.
Stopped briefly up the coast in Tofino, then went back to the resort.
I’d stupidly missed visting the Cathedral in the Pines, a grove of 300+ year old, gigantic trees, so the next day, I headed back on Route 4, the road through the mountains between the East and West Coasts.
Travelling through the Pacific Rim National Park on the way to Tofino, I’d listened to the Ranger weather and tide reports on the radio. Their repeated warnings to hikers about encountering wild animals were an ominous recollection as I walked through the woods, which were described as the forest as it was before the arrival of European settlers.
There were very few visitors that day, and even though the entrance is on the highway, after a short walk, I realized that I was far enough away from the parking lot to be completely by myself in what was, in fact, the edge of a wilderness area.
It had rained earlier in the day, and there were fresh prints, not only footprints, but paw prints, and big ones at that, with distinct claws. Not being much of a naturalist, I couldn’t tell if the prints were from a big dog – or something else.
With only a small camera as a weapon of possible intimidation, I got back to the parking lot as fast as I could.

BC Trip, Part II: And Now, Sports. First: Curling

Maybe it’s because the NHL cancelled its season, but curling led the sports news just about every night I was in Canada.
The major news story was, of course, the murder of the 4 “Mounties” in Alberta.
Even so, American programs dominated the TV, even on the local channels, and except for a French-speaking station, most of the music on the radio is US pop. And even the French station played US jazz.
Being the Pacific Northwest, it feels like home here. In fact, the prospect of going back to the US feels like foreign travel. Here means escape from the constant stress of there being “not enough” of everything – not enough money, certainly not enough civility, and too many people, especially in traffic.
Vancouver, of course, is a huge city, and it feels like any big city in the US – hurried, crowded, lots of cars.
Vancouver Island – even Victoria – seems to be on a different schedule. Even so, I noticed right away that where I was staying, about 2 hours away from Victoria, people drive fast, consistently exceeding the speed limit.
They probably get away with it because there are, literally, no speed traps. The only times I saw the police on the roadways, they were either adjudicating accidents or directing traffic because of construction.

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BC Trip, Part I: To Canada and Back

I’ve been wanting to voyage for my birthday, and this year, it happened by chance.
There was an old timeshare week to be used before the end of March, so last November, I made arrangements to travel to British Columbia the week of March 6.
Getting ready for the trip was a little nerve-wracking: the passport arrived only the Friday before, along with a couple of checks.
The day before the trip, Emme was performing in a production by the traveling Missoula Children’s Theater, an honor to be sure, and I was glad to be able to see her.
I had to get up at 3:30 am on Sunday the 6th to make my flight with the recommended 2 hour lead time.
After a lot of indecision on my part about how to get back and forth to Logan, Peter suggested I call a limo service – an unheard of luxury – but it turned out to be a good decision, for a lot of reasons: no bus service at that hour, and I got to leave my car in the driveway rather than risk being towed or plowed in should there be more nasty weather (and in fact, there was) during the week.

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