The Squamidian Report – June 17 / 06
Issue #211
Also in this issue:
Hi All,
Well hey; the flight up to Prince George was uneventful, which is the best kind if you think about it. It was almost dark when we took off and I had a seat on the port side, which meant my view was to the west. There was a great sunset at YVR and I was able to watch it all along the way. It was only during the last few minutes before we landed that the sunset faded away. Sue was at the airport waiting for me, and from there we headed to the Fairhaven B&B where we stayed in a cabin for the weekend.
But ‘shades of Jackie’s life’, they have mosquitoes there. All over the place, including in our cabin. The B&B is right on Tabor Lake with lots of trees and brush and undergrowth around. I had forgotten what the sound of mosquitoes buzzing around my head while trying to sleep was like. I had forgotten just how great we have it living on the coast where there are very few bugs. The windshield of my truck has had only the occasional bug smashed against it, the windshield of Sue’s car has the look of being splattered with peach jam from all the bugs it has encountered.
We did very little all weekend, just mostly relaxed which is something we both needed. We popped into her bank branch so she could deal with a customer issue and did some shopping in the nearby plaza. There are shopping plazas all over the place in PG. Being the ‘gateway to the north’, PG has everything anyone might need from heavy construction equipment to fancy clothing stores. The downtown is the pits with not much to offer, all the things you might want are found throughout the sprawling outer areas. Because of the kind of place PG is, there are a lot of good paying jobs there and that leads to a lot of people having a lot of ‘big boy toys’. There are Harley Davidson motorcycles all over the place. So while we were out shopping we went into a dealer and drooled over the array of bikes sitting there. They sure make some cool looking machines, until you look at the price tag. But it was fun to get the saleswoman all worked up.
My flight back to Vancouver was on Monday morning. Sue dropped me off at the airport on her way to the branch. That put me there a tad on the early side but there are always things to look at and watch at airports. The Prince George airport, YXS, is one of those dual-purpose ports. It handles scheduled flights for both Westjet and Air Canada. There are several smaller regional carriers flying in and out as well. It also handles the local sport and private flying needs. There are the usual assortment of small planes parked along the taxiways as well as gliders sitting in the grass areas. Kind of a neat place. I had hoped to get some interesting photos from the plane on the return flight but I ended up sitting right over the wing, which blocked out any view directly below. Also, I was on the sunny side of the plane so that meant the sun was reflecting off both the wing and the window. As well, there was a fair amount of cloud below us so you will just have to put up with what pictures I did manage to get. The can be seen at: http://members.shaw.ca/doug_b/Pictures/PG/PG.htm
*
Sometimes dumb things just happen. At work we use hand-held portable radios for communications with each other, the trucks, the office, that kind of thing. I generally grab the one nobody else wants. It’s kind of old, and the belt clip is missing. But it works well and I prefer it. But because the clip is missing I have to stick it in my shirt pocket when it is not in the excavator. The first thing we do each morning is check the engine oil, and to do that you have to climb up on top of the machine and open the hood upward. That places you right over top of the engine so you then have to bend over to pull the oil stick. You can probably see where this is going, the radio slipped out of my pocket and fell down into the engine compartment. The engines on excavators are protected from damage so once something has fallen down in there, it is in a deep dark hole, you can’t reach it from above. I couldn’t even see where the radio had gone.
By keying the mic on another radio and listening for the sound, I could tell that mine had slid or bounced to the other side of the engine block underside. By pulling an access panel on the bottom of the machine I was able to reach the radio with my arm, after zeroing in on it using the sound from the other radio. No harm done, just felt kind of stupid.
doug
****
I=ve never written for the Squamidian before - even though my cousin Carol has done more than her share of prompting- but I feel that now is the right time and more important than ever.
You all must know by now that my father Howard Brubacher has passed away recently. After reading in the Squamidian, Bryan=s account of a memory that he had in the past of my father, I feel the need to give further insight into the man who was my father. No doubt about it, he liked his drink and as several people have put it, he seemed eccentric. But, he was also quite amazing. He had the independence and audacity from his mother combined with the wit, humour and love of nature and adventure from his father. (Actually, now that I think of it, he got all these qualities from both parents.) Regardless of who he got those characteristics from, he passed these virtues on to all of us kids, mingled with the solid foundation our mother gave us. She was the Arock@ and I know that Dad realized that as the rest of us do. She kept us all grounded, no matter where Dad took us.
There is 10 years between the oldest and the youngest in our family and many moves, relocations and schools and I know we all have different views and memories of my father as Awe@ knew him. But I think I can say for all of us that he taught us about the love of life and living life to the fullest.
Some of my memories include:
* bird watching (waking up early- usually begrudgingly- to go sit behind some shrubs around Chestemere Lake, outside Calgary, [the same lake where he=d take us skating and ice fishing], and he=d point out the Cinnamon Teal, the Wood Duck, the American Avocet, the killdeer, the plovers, and many other types of waterfowl...all of which I still remember the names and birds themselves...). Whenever I see a bird in the sky, I instinctively try to identify it, all because of this past experience with my father.
* camping (a weekend up at Moose Lake in western Alberta, where Dad and I would go canoeing and fishing quite often, but on this particular weekend he let me troll with his fly rod. I didn’t= know how to use one back then and I just let the line follow us as we paddled along [as per Dad=s instructions] and I happened to catch more fish than he did, although I think he remembered that differently. After a day of fishing on that beautiful lake, and an absolutely delicious meal prepared by him over a campfire (I wonder where I got my love of preparing and eating food from), we would saunter down the very seldom traveled road to a path that went straight down off the road to the fast, swirling green water of the river below, only to lower our fishing-weary bodies into the three-sided log structure that housed a natural hot spring pool and faced the ice cold river. Dad would let his whiskey filled glass float around in the pool and I my root beer.)
I recently visited that hot springs with my husband, a few years ago, and now that it=s a well-known spot; it=s totally changed. What once was a beautifully remote and large, natural hot pool is now a small, hot puddle (due to road widening) where tourist=s come to don there speedos....not a pretty picture. Although, I must say that Moose Lake has remained a beautiful, canoe-only, lake and basically looks and feels the same as I remember it.
Another wonderful memory I have of Moose Lake is when my dad woke me in the middle of the night.. much to my chagrin... and asked me to come out to see something really neat. Knowing my father as I did, I knew it would be worthwhile...so out I stumbled out of the tent, bleary eyed to the cold camp fire where the frying pan was left from our last fish dinner of the day. He shone the flashlight into the frying pan and to my utter amazement were the markings of a hungry mouse who had eventually joined us in our last meal of the day, scraping out whatever flavour buds he could. His little feet and claw marks showed distinctively in the layer of fat left on the bottom of the pan from the bacon we had fried to go with the fish.
* my horse ( I had always wanted a horse, but in Calgary, living in the city, there was just no where to keep a horse, unless you boarded it somewhere...costs money... so Dad promised me that if we ever moved to the country, he=d buy me a horse. It turned out eventually, that the company Dad worked for downsized and relieved him of his duties. (Nice way of saying they fired him after years of service.) This was a huge turning point in our family. Mom, who finally had the nice home base that meant so much to her as well as an out of house job and all the comforts that come with a stable life, had to let it go. I=m not sure what hardships the rest of the family had to face, as the rest of them were old enough to stay if they wished. Me...6 years was the longest I=d stayed anywhere in my life and I had friends and I was 13.....we all know what that=s about. Suffice it to say I was sorry to leave. Nevertheless, after the house sold, we all piled into the van to head east to Nova Scotia where Mom and Dad owned a farmhouse and some property...all, meaning Mom, Dad, Ward, his girlfriend Sam, Warren and his wife Janice, and me. [This was a cargo van that my Dad bought and made into a very comfortable camper.] My sister Dianne stayed in Golden, B.C. where she was living at the time, and Dennis...well, I don=t really know where he was living at the time, but he didn’t come with us.
Honestly, I didn’t forget about the motive for this paragraph, which was of course, the horse... please bare with me.
We ended up in Kitchener for the winter, where I continued with my education at Eastwood Collegiate (Grade 9) and Ward and Sam and Warren and Janice, continued east to Nova Scotia.
During this time I worked as a shampoo girl for Sus at the shop where she worked and I earned enough money to buy a saddle, cowboy boots and books on how to keep a horse. (I hadn=t forgot my Dad=s promise, you see...) While in Kitchener that winter, Dad took me to Hespeler to a horse farm and I fell in love with a little 9 year old Appaloosa that had been used as a cow pony, but was now on it=s way to being on the menu in Europe. On the day Dad actually met ABarney@ they had, unfortunately, placed him next to a spunky little Shetland with an attitude. (What Shetland Pony doesn’t have an attitude.) Just as Dad was approaching Barney to greet him, the Shetland barred his teeth and bolted for Barney=s throat. Barney struck out in the only way he knew how; he let his back feet fly, catching Dad in the knee and sending him into the back of the barn.......he=ll never let me have a horse now, I thought in horror...... but, Barney, knowing what he=d done, turned his head and with those big, chocolate coloured eyes and worried eyebrows looked at Dad to see what damage had been done...and after a few minutes, Dad limped forward towards Barney and told him he knew it wasn=t his fault. Barney and I looked at each other with such relief, we knew we were going to be together for a long time.
I could go on, and on, and on, but I hope by now you get the idea I=m trying to portray of my father. He made life interesting for me and for all of us. He=s the reason we all are what we are. To this day, I see that little mouse scampering to safety or scavenging for food, that bird of prey circling above effortlessly on the thermal winds, the colour of a river or the beauty in the sunrise or sunset. I marvel at the way the clouds take formation around a quarter moon, or the brilliance of the moon when it=s full. I value the planet I=m on and owe it all to him....he will be with me forever, in all that I see and do.
.....How ironic....a raccoon just strolled through my back yard and took the time to look at me as he sauntered through.....
Thanks for listening...
Michelle
Tupper (nee Brubacher)
****
Hello
everyone!
Well,
there are a loads of things happening around Ontario these days.
One of
the coolest things to happen this week was the demolition of “The Four
Sisters”. That’s what they were affectionately known as. They were the four
huge smoke stacks of the now closed coal fired power generating station on Lake
Ontario near Mississauga. They were there for almost 50 years and on a clear
day, they could be seen from the American side of the lake. Boaters used them
as a landmark for navigating and aircraft did the same. They were also used as
a turning point for the aircraft that were performing at the Canadian National
Exhibition Air Show. The morning they showed them fall on Canada AM, there were
even mothers that said their kids used them as a marker to find their way home
when they were away from their neighbourhood. Most said they were a little sad
to see them fall. I guess with the passing of their usefulness, there was no
point in leaving them standing. The government hasn’t decided what they will do
with the property yet but it may just be developed into another generating
station. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.
*
We’re
embroiled in the so called “Terrorist Plot” trials and will be for many months
to come. I know that there will be a lot of different opinions as to how these
men should be dealt with but there is only one that matters, the opinion of the
judge! I personally don’t believe they should be granted bail. The offences
with which they are charged are too serious and until the legal system either
proves or disproves the charges we just can’t take the chance that one or all
of the accused might perform their dastardly deed while out on bail. Terrorism
is a much more serious offence that we are used to dealing with and the courts
must err on the side of caution. I believe that in cases such as this the
courts are justified in suspending some of the “Rights” of the suspects. I do
think however that the accused should be allowed to have private consultations
with their own lawyers. This is a basic premise of the legal process and is a
fair way to allow the accused to defend themselves. I see no reason to deny
them this part of the process that would be afforded any other suspected
criminal. One more point that has come to light is the treatment of the
prisoners by some of the guards at the Milton Prison (Maplehurst). They are
apparently waking the prisoners up every half hour, leaving the lights on all
night and taunting them in other ways. This isn’t all of the guards but the few
that are doing this should be dealt with in my opinion. The guards are there to
do their job and nothing more. It’s not up them to play judge and jury for
these men. If they are guilty, they will be punished properly by the system and
not by any individual with a dislike for Muslims. The story continues!
*
The next
big item of the day is the arrests of the gang members involved in the killing
of the 16 year old girl from Toronto last Christmas. The suspect’s families are
on TV whining that only one person shot the young girl and they shouldn’t all
be charged with murder. It’s the same old story. If you are part of a group that
robs a store and one member of the group shoots and kills the clerk behind the
counter, you are just as guilty as the one who pulled the trigger. You where
part of the commission of the crime and therefore must accept an equal part of
the blame for whatever happens during the incident. All of the people involved
in the shootout are equally responsible for the death of that young lady and
must be held accountable. Like they say “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the
crime!”
*
The last
situation I’d like to comment on today is that of the Native Band members
occupying the land in Caledonia that they say is legally theirs. That land was
sold several times over the past 200 years and each owner has paid what was
deemed a fair amount at the time of purchase. If their ancestors sold that land
to the white man for 10 barrels of fire water, half a dozen horses and a case
of pemmican then that was their choice. What’s done is done in my book. I think
that the government should stop kissing their asses and enforce the order of
the judge that ruled they were trespassing and they were to be removed from the
property immediately. Now they’ve attacked an elderly couple and damaged their
car as well as assaulted them and the whole band is covering for the few that
committed this crime. If they weren’t a minority group, they’d be in jail right
now for aiding and abetting . The Dudley George incident in 1995 was
unfortunate but arose from much the same situation. I know that the government
has learned to handle this type of situation differently but have the Natives
learned anything? It seems to me that they have learned that they can
intimidate the government by waving Dudley Georges name in their faces and are
using that to their advantage. Can anyone tell me just when the rest of us will
stop being held hostage for something that happened 200 years ago? I say to the
natives if you have a legal claim, take it to the courts and accept their
decision as final. Otherwise, get off your lazy asses and get jobs where you
won’t have the time to think up these “Free Ride” schemes. You’ve not only
wasted our time and money and the resources of the provincial government but
you’ve embarrassed Canada with your selfish antics!
One more
thing: Why do you suppose it is that all these “Native” people have the time to
spend months on a picket line and the “other side” doesn’t?
Can you
spell “welfare”? Hmmmm….
Thanks
for tuning in and I look forward to talking to you all again next week in “The
Ontarion Report”.
Bye for now…. Greg.
PS: Something
To Think About>
Tigers
have striped skin, not just striped fur.
****
The Family and the Squamidian sites:
http://members.shaw.ca/doug_b/ and http://www.thedougsite.ca
Have a good one..
the
doug
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