Black. And thankfuly not blue.

Okay, 2 stories here...

story 1- Often I hear people say "Black isn't a colour." Okay, maybe *I* hear that more than most people, given my wardrobe. Hey, I wear more colour than I used to. So shush.

One such impudent critic recent told me "Black isn't a colour. It's a HUE." Wait, let me ask photoshop.... No, according to photoshop, hue has nothing to do with brightness. Hue is what changes red to blue, or green, or any of our rainbow pals. By photoshop's standards, any hue can be turned bright or dark enough to be absolute white or black.

Would that mean that black is EVERY colour? In colour by subtraction, yes, it is. In colour by addition, it is no colour at all. But let's skip the technical side of the semantics, let's talk about how people talk.

"What colour is your dog?"
"It doesn't have any colour."
"Doesn't have any colour?? What is it, INVISIBLE? YOU HAVE AN INVISIBLE DOG?!"
"No, it's black."
"Oh, shut up. You and your invisible dog just shut up before I slap you."
"I told you, he's not invisible, he just doesn't have a colour, he's black."
"Where's your invisible dog, I want to slap him first."

Story 2- The result of wet conditions on brakes has never been a friend of mine, (see joe v mustang, 2001) and last monday the phenomenon paid me another visit. Thankfully to much less grievous results.

Manual wheelchair brakes, unlike brakes in a car, apply pressure directly to the tire. Tires get wet. Wet is slippery. Thus, on a wet day like last monday, (it IS monsoon season in vancouver after all) my brakes became all but useless when I went outside. Thankfully I didn't have Caitlin with me... she doesn't need to be pummeled by rain if not necessary.

So there I was with my wet tires, loaded onto the bus with its wet floor. The straps were hooked onto the back ends of my arm-rests, and off we went. Quite often with sudden acceleration of a bus, I find myself in a momentary, involuntary wheelie. And there we go..

Okay.. this has gone on a fraction of a second longer than I expected. And I'm leaning back farther, maybe. Alright, I'm ready to 'land' again. Any time now. Grab onto the rail and ... well.. frig. And slowly guide the fall to the floor. While my collective mass had been leaning back, my wheels slid forward, and the straps that were supposed to keep me secure- only detained my upper half, which is hat caused the extreme 'lean' back.

By now, others had taken notice. "Stop the bus!" I heard others say, "Stop! The wheelchair fell over!" Yeah, looks like it did, didn't it? Thankfully due to the the minimal impact, I wasn't hurt, and I was still positioned pretty well in the chair. As the bus came to a halt, and a slid a little on the floor, I realized that the floor of a bus smells worse than you might imagine. Next time you get off a bus, find a pile of dogshit as soon as you can, to scrape off the germs from the bus.

This was usually the moment in the fall when I started considering how I was going to fix the situation. There wasn't time. Before I knew it, two or more guys were over me, preparing to haul me and the chair upright. Maybe they knew the smell of the bus floor, and that's why they rushed to my aid so quickly. Either way, yay for one's fellow man.

The bus driver checked with me over and over that I was alright. He seemed to think that a clamp that was supposed to be grabbing my back wheel was to blame for not grabbing. I guess it was a contributing factor. I got into the other wheelchair spot, made sure that the clamp was working, and that the straps were anchored in more useful places. It felt like about a minute from the fall, to when the bus got going again. By far my quickest falling experience.

I wonder how it might have been different if I had Caitlin strapped into my lap. Her added weight might have made my landing rougher. She would have been fine either way, using ME as an impact cushion. Would she have been scared, or amused? Or maybe her weight in my lap might have prevented the fall altogether. It's hard to say, but you can bet I'll always be mindful of the finer details of bus-riding in wet conditions.

VCON Day 1, part 2: The Book Launch

The dealer room closed at 7. All the dealers tidied up for a few minutes, and left the room to be locked up for the night.

By the time that was all done, I had a bit less than an hour to waste until the book launch. I don't want to send the wrong idea, it's not as if it was some huge gala event just for Watching Yute. Every year VCON has this event, where Authors of any sci-fi books released in the last year are invited to come and talk about their book.

Last year, I found out 2 weeks before the event that I'd be expected to do a reading. After the little panic attack, I carefully chose a passage from Lifehack, and did some practicing. It was going to go awful, I just knew it. But I was 'ready'.

And then the readings were canceled, due to unfavorable acoustics at the lounge. It turned into a 'meet & greet' casual thing. It was a disappointment and relief.

This year, (new location, BTW) I hadn't gotten an invite to the launch, but was ready. I had joined a couple meetup groups, at which I was asked to do a little reading. I was semi-prepared.

At the first one, I chose a melancholy passage form the perspective of Watching Yute's heroine, Cassidy. This was a mistake. Between my nerves, lack of a female voice, and the fact that it's a section better ready to one's self quietly, it just didn't come off well. The group was supportive though. I wormed my way to having a 2nd reading. I chose a section of one of the antagonists, Jacob Kirison, trying to fight his paranoia when meeting with a mafia contact.

Here, my rattling nerves proved an asset. The reading didn't go perfect, but it went a lot better. Kirison's generally a jittery fellow, and I used most of my fumbles as part of it, and pressed forward.

At the next meetup with a different group, I did Kirison's bit again. It went smoother. I 'acted' a bit. My errors were secondary to the fun.

Now I was at VCON's book launch, with red bull coursing through me, and no idea if there'd be a reading. I bought a horribly overpriced cuba libra from the 'bar cart' that the hotel had running there. It was twice what I expected to pay, and half the alcohol. I chattered with professor Whovianart, and a few others. One person, I feel bad I don't remember her name... she invited me to a convention party afterwards for Canadian sci-fi writers, but I knew my time would be really tight by the time the launch was over. I was expecting a 2 hour transit ride, and I didn't know what time they buses stopped out on the destination end of the trip.

Some time after I had given up on the idea of a reading, someone walked up to the front, where there was this stage-ish long table with a podium, and suggested to the room that the authors should come up and talk/read a bit. Alright, it was on.

I didn't know what kind of order the authors should go in, so in my typical aggressive style, I waited patiently and listened to others.

One lady was a representative of a local publisher. She got up there and thanked a long list of people, listed books, and prattled on. I was a little confused, she didnt fit into the flow that the room had going. We'd been listening to writers get up there and represent their own brain-children. This didn't feel like the venue for what she was doing. Just when I thought she was wrapping up, she introduced a paid actress, who was going to be doing a reading from a book who's author wasn't there.

I have no idea what the reading was, I was a little lost in a cloud of WTF. That sounds aggressive, but... I just didn't get it. When she wrapped up, people around me nudged me to get up there. Alright. Alright, I'd better go to it.

By the time I crossed the room, a graphic novelist was at the podium already. I forgot his name.. I'm horrible. He had the table across from me last year. Nice meek fellow. I don't think he was planning on a reading, and struggled valiantly to read a graphic novel story without the audience seeing the pictures. He did a good job for being on the spot, but next year, maybe he should see about a projector screen or something.

Alright. My turn at the podium and the microphone. Up the steps, and.. oh. Hm. Wheelchair. I sat below, in front of the podium and stage, and promised to read with my big-boy voice. Two words into reading, someone marched up from the back of the room. "Nah, can't hear ya in the back." and a mic was wrenched from the table, into my hand.

Jacob Kirison came to life once more, fuelled by taurine and nerves. Some time before I got to the line "What?! Why not?!", I was really into it, I was acting it the way I heard it in my head when I wrote it. (FYI, what I read was the Kirison sections from the experts I have on my page, here.)

When I went back to my 'seat', someone peeked over my shoulder to get the title of the book, soon returning from the little sales table looking for a signature for the book. Yaaay!

It wasn't long after that that the launch event was thinning out. I had a bus to catch. As it happened, on the last leg of my journey, I'd be on the 2nd last available bus, and I'd be waiting an hour for it... I might have gotten the 3rd last bus, but on the way out of the launch event, I was stopped in the hall.

"Hey, hold up, you're next, okay?"

Who am I to argue with a TV camera crew? They were interviewing some lady I didn't know. I knew the interviewer though, kind of. Before the launch event, I spotted a guy with a really cool wrist.. bracelet.. thing. It was pretty punk, and would have gone well with my costume bits. Yeah, I was still wearing it. Keep in mind, it's a bit hazardous- though I didn't look as freakish as I will by the time Halloween comes around.

So, the interviewer recognized me and tagged me for a spot. A spot on what? I have no idea. It seems like could have just been a student project, but once again, who am I to argue with a camera crew?
"So, introduce yourself!"
"I'm Joseph Picard!" Was I feeding off his energy, the red bull, or the good reading? In any event, he joked,
"I'm Joseph Picard, he says, as we should already know!" Well of course, aren't I famous yet?

He asked about the costume bits I was wearing, and about what I was doing.

"... and I just did a reading from my new book in there...!"
"Wow! How'd that go?"
"Well, it's hard to be objective, but I think I did pretty good..!"
"Oh! Listen to him and the false modesty! You nailed it didn't you? Yeaaah, you nailed it!"

Hehe, I wish I knew who that guy was, I wouldn't mind a copy of that vid.

That wrapped up, I had to get my transit-unfriendly costume bits safely into the dealer's room. I went to the 'HQ desk' of the convention. Three people were behind the tables, the one on the left partly hidden in shadow. I rolled up and got to the point.

"Hey, I need to get into the dealer room.."
One of one on the right piped in. "Dealer room closed at 7."
"Well, Jeff said I could get in to drop stuff off after the launch, and if he wasn't around, to find Danielle, i think her name was, and-" I blithered on a little bit. The partly hidden figure on the left stood, and waved a keycard for the dealer room.
"That's Danielle." the guy on the right said.

Yeah, she was sitting there all along, and between the low lighting and my fatigue, I didn't see it. She looked a little tired too, which was understandable- she runs the friggin con.

With my transit-hostile costume bits stored safely, I began the longest trip home of the weekend, between pushing my chair uphill to burrard station while already tired, and waiting an hour in coquitlam for the 2nd last bus home, I was spent. And glad I didn't succumb to the temptation to go to that party. Next year, get the hotel room.

I ended up getting into bed at 2:30 or so, and had the alarm set for 6 am. I woke up at 5, and couldn't get back to sleep. I was still tired as heck, but also hyper as heck. It was an odd mix that would get me through saturday... with some assistance from taurine.

Transit, dangerous appearel, and a tale of Pete.

Okay, I promised I'd write about VCON, and I have several topics lined up, but let's start with a warmup.

I've but a fair bit of effort into my halloween costume this year. Big credit to my father in law, Paul, and uncle... uh.. in law.. Mark.. is that a thing, uncle-in-law? and my fellow Optimist, Peter Gobbee. I lack in power tools.

Anyway, with all this fuss, I thought I'd get as much mileage out of the thing as I could. So it seemed like a fun idea to wear it to VCON. It's not huge and bulky, but for SOME reason, my wife thought it would be a bad idea to wear it on the bus. I won't leak much more about the costume, as I still want to surprise people who may read this, but suffice to say, for public safety, I agreed not to wear it during my trip from Pitt Meadows to VCON, 2 hours by bus and skytrain, near Burrard station.

Volunteer editor Adam Zilliax came though, porting the dangerous bits of the costume, as well as the books and other stuff I was going to setup at VCON. Thanks again Adam!

Dangerous bits aside, I wore much of the costume on transit, earning some odd looks here and there. And outside the Burrard station, from people on an open-top tour bus.

In the course of 3 days, I took 3 round trips, totaling well over 15 hours of travel time, once you include an extra hour I had to wait at Coquitlam Station at midnight, waiting for the next bus, and my sunday detour on the way home to meet up with Grace Endo at GF strong.

Highlights include my first trip across the new Pitt River bridge sunday evening, (whoopie, the day before it officially opened!.... whoopie.) and my first ride of the fairly new Canada Line train. Picture the skytrain, 30% wider, and ... clean. I mean, the skytrain isn't generally FILTHY, but the Canada line train was Star-Trek Federation clean. And it ran smooth and quiet, like the skytrain used to.

In the process, I did a lot of wheeling on new and 'hostile' terrain. From Burrard station to VCON was mostly downhill, which made for challenging but manageable trips back to the station in the evenings. Waterfront was downhill form VCON, but quite a bit further.

The low point of the transit adventures was the one day I took the 160 bus from Coquitlam to Burrard. The website said it was a shade faster than the skytrain.. and it was.. a shade.. but the stop-go action didn't help my pain situation. Worse though was the trip through East Hastings. You hear about the homeless situation there, you see it on TV, but seeing it for real really hits ya. Oddly, I felt a little like a tourist. "Oh, look at that hotel, I've seen it on the news a lot!" "Oh, that place is a notorious dive! I saw it on the news a lot!" "Oh, I saw that on the news, and that, and.."

In a related story, last wednesday on the way home, Michelle and I stopped at the 7-11 I used to work at to pick a few things up. I stayed in the van, since I wasn't needed, and it's a huge hassle to get out. In front of the store, near the doors sat Pete.

Pete's a homeless guy who's been in Maple Ridge for ages, though he's been seen quite far off. That was before he was in a wheelchair though. There's rumor and 'truth' about Pete. I've spoken with him a couple times. He's VERY quiet, and not super sociable, but he's friendly, and by all accounts, a harmless fellow. He's been pulled off the streets many times, and somehow always finds his way back. Conventional wisdom is that he refuses to stay where they stick him, but the rumors around him as so thick, it's hard to say.

At any rate, I sat in the van, watching people go around him and avoid him, mostly. A few said a few words to him, and he replied. I couldn't hear what was said. He never started a discussion with anyone, never bothered anyone. Michelle eventually came out, and leaned over to Pete, offering him something- what I later learnt to be a slice of 7-11 pizza. He seemed to take a little time to understand. He accepted it, and nodded. As we pulled out, Pete was munching away at it, seemingly oblivious to the world. What does he think about? Why has he been out there so long?

Alright, that ended up depressing...! Next time: Meet the vendors!

To the Vancouver Library! Skytrain adventures ahead! Whee!

Tonight I'm heading out there for a MEETUP meeting with a small collection of random writer-ey people. Looks like a healthy mix of novelists, short-story.. ists, and poets. It dawned on me a while ago that I should be more connected to the local writing pulse... or something.

So now I look forward to a roughly 2 hour trip by bus and by skytrain from here. Which brings up the questions of wheelchair accessibility. My route leads me out of Granville station to the street.

Half a decade or so ago, my wife and I were nastily surprised to find out (while in a hurry, of course) that there was no elevator at that station. Most skytrain stations are set up quite nicely for wheelchair access, so we were frantically looking around the underground section, poking doors, looking for the lift. Time ticking away, we stopped someone to ask. We got a couple "I dunno" responses until we came across someone who knew, and had no good news on the topic.

So, back on the train we go, to the next station, then dash to our appointment. I hadn't forgotten the experience, but when the automated yet oft-dubious trip-planner for the bus routed me through Granville, (with the accessibility option turned on) I figured that my memory must have been of another station.

But today, I was rambling about my trvael plans, and my wife says "Granville? They don't have an elevator I think....!"

"No?"

"I don't think so, remember that, voop-" and she made a hand gesture that made me think she was hailing a cab for Hitler or something. After a little prodding, I figured out she was talking about the steep, steep escalator at the station. With a standard escalator, I can drive myself into it, hang onto the railings, and I can get up pretty easily, (even if the people behind me are concerned about getting crushed) but this one was step enough that I wasn't going to chance it, even with my wife there to assist.

Mind you, this was a 'long time' ago, in terms of where my skill level was... I'll have to have a peek today and see if it looks less daunting now. Still, I don't want to be betting on it.

So I called the transit line to confirm my fears, that the oh-so-clever trip-planner had aimed me at a dead end. The fellow I eventually got on the phone, (who sounded like he'd just finished making sweet sweet love to his morning coffee) told me an elevator had been installed there roughly a year ago. I can't imagine where... it's a darn cramped station. But I'll take ole coffee mater's word for it.

Wish me luck, for I face transit!

Later in the month, I'll be going to similar meetup, but it's a 10-minite bus ride away, on familiar territory.

International Students Ep1: Mexico

Time for me to yak about being a host in the 'homestay' program. Basically, me and my wife make a room (in out case, 2 rooms) available for the school board to post a highschool student in each one.
We make some money on it, but blow most of it taking the girls to Victoria, or other stuff. We get assigned girls for two reasons. 1) the rooms were judged by the inspector to be 'too pretty' to waste on boys, and 2) My with Michelle would probably being doing more activities with them, due to my disability.

Michelle's aunt had hosted a girl from mexico some years ago, and they're still friends. My aunt-in-law (or is it just 'aunt'?) introduced us to the mother of that student, who happened to be the official running the mexican end of the operation. Nice lady. She came over to check out our home, and said yeah, she could send us a couple girls in the coming school year. This was to be... um... sept 2005?

Everything was lined up, and we were getting excited, when suddenly it all fell through. The parent heard that another school was better, and although it was a very short bus ride away, they wouldn't allow it. The students were re-assigned to another home closer to this 'better school'.

Who told them one school is better than another? Over the last few years I've heard all kinds of opinions about which school in the area is best, and which sucks.. and eveyrone's opinion comes out different. They're public schools in the same district, folks- the education's gonna be pretty much the same from one to the next.

And lord knows the bus is a dangerous place to have students at 8am and 3pm. To be fair, in mexico it could be. These kids are from well of families. A rich girl on a bus in mexico sounds like th beginning of many an unpleasant movie.

At any rate, we were now lacking for a student, but lo, the school board always has more lined up. The schools make a lot form international students. One person in the field said that without them, your education system would collapse from lack of funds. Mr. Campbell, how we love thee. But it's just as well, since the program has led to meeting a lot of really neat young ladies.

Next I-student post: Enter Rei.

(No significant updates on the lifehack revision- chippin away, chippin away..)