There’s nothing worst then reading a step-by-step break down of anything, especially travel. At first it’s good, enjoyable, and easily accessible, but it soon it turns into a slide show. I’ll explain. Friends get back from some far away destination and have all these pictures and stories to share. Most of the stories are pure shit and nine times out of ten they end with “I guess you had to be there.” Then they show you their pictures of their trip and somewhere in the middle of the third photo album your eyes are wondering around the room scanning for an object that would be suitable to impale yourself on. So, I’m left with the question of how to make travel interesting without making the reader feel jealous and wanting to kill themselves because they will never, nor could they ever, have such a wonderful, fruitful, and fulfilling vacation. I’ll do my best to prevent the aforementioned from occurring.
Thursday the 30th of June of Grad. It was my last day of work and my final duty was to work the digital video camera for the ceremony, which in turn was projected on a big screen. The problem was that the projectors were shit and the entire exercise was in vain. Some things need to be worked out to make it worth while. The worst part however of graduation was not the video, or the students, not the speeches, the MC’s, the lack of pyrotechnics, or the musical interludes. The worst part of graduation was the parents (or to be more specific, the audience which consists mostly of parents, apparently a rather large number of intellectually stunted parent). At the end of the ceremony, when the names of the graduates were being announces parents were coming down the floor (the ceremony is in a hockey arena) and taking pictures. While, by the time that half of the students had been announced the floor was filled with parents and family members. So the people that got called last basically got screwed and no one heard their names or saw their faces. I was a little disappointed in humanity. Common sense does not exist, but sense, I’m sure, must exist on some plane. This entire group of people had no fucking sense of courtesy, civility, decency, or respect (while okay, a whole shit load of them didn’t, some remained in the stands; thank you for respecting the graduates.). Graduation is ridiculous fanfare anyhow, but if you’re going to do it, you may as respect it.
Directly after the ceremony I was off to Edmonton. I like driving alone because I like to blast the music, sing the entire way there, stop when I want, and so on. This time I gave a friend of mine a ride down. This friend we will call, Mich, but his real name sounds more like bile, and it starts with a K. Anyhow, Mich was a wonderful travel companion, he shared some great music with me and we had some great conversations. I got into Edmonton at about 2:30 in the morning, making the trip in about seven hours (hour lost because of the time change). I had never left so late in the day (about 6:30), but it really wasn’t that bad. I was awake and aware, and Mich’s charming company kept me awake. I’m rambling.
Things worth mentioning. The beaver in Beaver Lodge is the ugliest city place-marker I have ever seen. It’s big, ugly, and scary looking; it looks like it should be the mascot for a nuclear waste corporation because it looks like a fucking radiated menace that’s going to eat you and gnaw off King Kong’s legs.
Wader
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