My First Blog – Pre Trip

March 2nd, 2010



Here a I go into the world of blogdom. A chance for me, for once, to make sequitur observations about my day mixed with a dab of the opposite. Too much of anything of that nature would have people running to the hills…so they say.

The wind that blew the hooplah of the Olympics to our doorstep, seemed to have picked it up and moved it onto another’s doorstop, who whether they do or do not need it, have no choice to reap and weep the benefits of whatever toll it shall take. Very Mary Poppins of it, no? If only a spoonful of sugar would make such a medicine go down and if sugar is all we need to make this medicine go down, then I’d ask for a second opinion and be very skeptical that what we all swallowed was a big placebo.

No…I won’t be like that. Honestly, to lay it out flat, the Olympics came in to waves for me. The first was an utterly ultimate and complete discontent. I loathed the bus stop inserts saying “Go World” and held back the urge to sharpie in “Some Where Else”. I despised the Anime mascots, especially the bigfoot whose name sounded like everytime I said it I was referring to my junk with an odd Barbara Walter’s lisp.

Where was all this money coming from? Why is there a tent city in Vancouver? How can the arts celebrate the cultural Olympiad knowing that around the corner comes the biggest cuts to the arts in history? Why does Vancouver feel like Big Brother is watching me as I sit slumped in a chipper drunken state on the bus, and that he’s taking notes!?

The second part of me, the second wave, which came about a week into the games came as a shock. Someone, someone dear to me, said how can I be so negative all the time. That wasn’t this person’s exact words, but the gist is there I believe. Anywho, it made Ira Cooper reflect, something he doesn’t normally do unless he is doing coke (reflect….no?). Kidding, I don’t do coke, unless its the good stuff, you know, the one that can melt a penny in a day. The games were here…and to be honest…don’t hate me…but while protesting is an expression of discontent with the system and yada yada, the action of protest when it is not the masses makes as much of an impact as McRib at McDonalds (no one remembers it, but I DO!). And really, the Art Gallery has little to respond to in the way of politics, being that artists don’t usually rebuttle…they just opinionate and flagellate their tongues.

Anwho…so yes! Yay! I was actually excited. I believe my eyes even watered a few times, and this time it had no hidden agenda to meet sensitive women…AT ALL. I walked among the different pavilions, smiling children, girls perched up high above theur lover’s shoulders, lovers wheezing…walking the trip.
Anyways, I shall be abrupt with my bedding hour.




About mrmakdeck

I see tomorrow. I am biking to the end of the road, not to say I did it, but to see what's really there. From my travels I've learned that barriers are just lines on a map that once you get your passport stamped and your visas all in order don't exist anymore. It's okay to say I don't know and not know and learn something and forget it. It's great to go towards the unknown to make it known, or see if it retains its anonymity even as you come closer. I've met some amazing people and done some pretty cool things and have realized this spherical concoction of land and sea is only as unattainably big as you imagine it to be. So wake up and pedal each mile.

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