Die Hard Three

Right now I’m sitting close to the water watching the people go by. There are some boats floating nearby and on the wharf there are a bunch of food vendors. One of the stands reminds me of the wishing booth that made Tom Hanks big in that movie, Big.

About fifty yards to my right there’s a bridge with dozens of people fishing over the side. I’ve been observing these guys (all men) for a few days now and have not been able to determine if they are fishing for fun or for food. For bait, some are using bread, others chum. I want to give it a try at some point. I’ll have to work up the courage to ask one of the dudes if I can try his pole.

Are we still doing phrasing? “Did we ever stop?” Let’s ask Shaggy…

This city would make Joanne both happy and sad. Happy that there are cats everywhere and sad that there are cats everywhere. But they seem to be well looked after. My local pub has a resident mascot naked Zeki who has napped next to me each of my past two visits. On my way over here I dropped in and the server offered me a tea (on the house) and their cat remembered me and rubbed up against my leg.

It’s nice to be loved.

I’m not a huge fan of purchasing non-toilet-related items when I travel but I think I will have to bring home one of these tea sets. Tiny glass cups with beautiful porcelain saucers.

The tourists you can spot a mile away – just look for arms. The locals are mostly covered up. From what I can tell it’s a combination of a culture of modesty and the fact that they seem to find 17 degree weather cold. In Ottawa last Friday it snowed on the way to the airpot, so I can’t really complain.

Walking around parts of Istanbul today it was impossible to tell that it was Remembrance Day. There were no poppies. No flyovers. No 21-gun salutes. From what I understand, in the Great War Turkey was on the “losing” side*. Most of what I know about history comes from the movies (even ones I have not seen) and Gallipoli (1981) had Mel Gibson (on Team Commonwealth, “victors”) invading some remote part of Turkey (Jesse please correct in the comments any of the inaccuracies in this post).

Anyway, it seems to me that lately on Remembrance Day, we’re “remembering” the wrong sorts of things. From what I read it’s mostly about the “sacrifice” of the pour souls who died (and survived) objectively horrible circumstances and my heart breaks when I think about these people (or any people) suffering like people do in war.

But when people use the term sacrifice in a Remembrance Day context, it seems to me like they have this idea that when a soldier dies in war it’s akin to (spoiler alert) Gene Hackman at the end of The Poseidon Adventure (1972) where his actual (but cinematic) sacrifice saved the lives of the other actors. But that’s not war. Not even close. And while there can be found many localized examples of wartime acts of meaningful sacrifice, on the whole, a wartime death is a pointless one.

So I’d like to propose that this year, in addition to those who died, we remember something different. Specifically, remember 2003 when Canada decided not to participate in the Iraq War. Today, a significant number of voting-age Canadians are too young to appreciate what was going on back then. So with the benefit of hindsight, I’ve prepared an analogy to help them understand.

You know that one night when all your friends were going out to get really drunk in a dodgy bar in a sketchy part of town and you knew in you heart that it would turn into a shit show so you stayed home even though they were pressuring you to join them? And it ended up that you were right and they got into this big fight over something made up and several people ended up in the hospital and some were arrested and a decade later they’re still dealing with the fallout from this one night.

And afterwards, while you helped your friends when you could – driving them to their physiotherapy appointments and court-appointed anger management classes – you were secretly really pleased with yourself for making the right decision to stay home that night.

I mean, there’s no question you made the right decision – compared to your friends you’re much better off. Your reputation is mostly intact. You’ve got a lot more free time and disposable income that you can direct at more worthwhile endeavours. Like that second floor bathroom fan that needs to be repaired. Or fixing the outdoor speakers by the hot tub. That really nice girl you met recently – you can take her to New York for a few days in January. Everyone loves New York.

Yes, that was Canada back in 2003. And it’s also us now.

So this year, I want you to remember all the good times over the previous decade that you had with your military friends who didn’t get sent to Iraq in 2003. Remember playing regular hockey with them. Remember their minds not being warped by having to spend months or even years in a war zone under the constant threat of sudden death by IEDs and sniper fire. Remember their nightmare-free sleeps where they didn’t have to relive the horrible things normal people end up seeing, experiencing, and doing when they get deployed in a combat role to an active war zone. Remember them being here. Remember them still being here.

Remember that in 2001 Canada did decide to participate in the war in Afghanistan and that too many of our soldiers have come back damaged physically and mentally or not at all.

Also remember all the people that do end up in war. And more importantly, try to make it so that they don’t.

Anyway, sorry about the serious post. I’m pretty sure most of you come here to lighten your day, not heavyen it. And not wanting to disappoint, last night at the pub I was chatting up the two Serbian ladies at the table next to me. While discussing the cistern they asked me if I “put my finger in the hole and made a full circle for happiness”. Apparently there’s a Blarney Stone-like feature of the Roman cistern where one has to rotate ones hand around a fixed point for “happiness”. But I didn’t know that and I found it to be a pretty funny thing for them to say.

* note how one of the “winners” of the Great War (France) still has giant swaths of their country that are uninhabitable due the large quantity of unexploded munitions that have been there for almost a century.

So I accomplished one of my life’s goals today – I visited the famous Roman cistern that features prominently in the second James Bond film. I’m a huge fan of the Bond movies but I remember not liking From Russia With Love when I saw it as a kid. There was a lot of talking and a lot less action than the Roger Moore outings that introduced me to the series.

But I watched it again earlier this year for the first time in about three decades and I have to say I found it to be one of the best. The thing I liked the most about it was the beginning of the film – we were almost fifteen minutes in before James Bond made an appearance. They spent this time setting up the villains, which, when you think about it, is the way a Bond film should be.

Everybody knows who James Bond is. After Coca-Cola 007 is probably the most recognizable brand on the plant. So why is it they start every film with Mr. Bond having a briefing with his boss explaining the mission? Would it not make more sense to spend this valuable screen time with the new characters (the villains) observing their plotting?

I heard once that Quentin Tarantino expressed interest in writing and directing a James Bond film. I don’t use the expression “greatest anything ever” that often but this easily falls into that category. Apparently it never got off the ground because the producers want to have complete creative control over the finished product and with a heavyweight like Tarantino on board, they would not. So they go and hire someone like Sam Mendes who will do what he’s told like a good soldier and make what is objectively the stupidest Bond film ever made.

And Speaking about Skyfail I think I’m going to visit the Grand Bazar on Wednesday. I hear it’s quite the spectacle.

The cistern looks spooky but it was not. Too many tourists.

And speaking of villains, the bad guy should be played by Robert Shaw.
Always.

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So I made it through my first daiye in this NEW COUNTRY. Victoria: you’ve been to England before so your current trip does’t count for your country total. Remember I was in London with you in 2004 (Jebus, 10 years this month. Where does the time go?)

Anyway, each time one visits a new country there’s this getting-to-know-you period where the traveller has to adjust to the new environment. And Istanbul has been pretty easy. It’s not Tunisia (what the hell is a “louage”?) and it’s definitely not Australia (congealed soya sauce on toast? Barf).

The main thing I’ve noticed here has been the smoking. It’s banned in bars but no one cares. And yesterday I watched a movie and they had a ten minute smoke break at the one hour mark. They didn’t even wait for Matthew McConaughey to finish his sentence – and it was an important one.

Otherwise, everything is pretty normal for a Mediterranean country. I see some people begging in the streets and one of the locals informed me that there is a lot of Syrian refugees here. I rarely get to see world events up close – it’s kind of sobering.

The plan for Day 3 is to go see the giant cistern from From Russia with Love. I’m curious to find out if the Russians were stupid enough to build their embassy right on top of it. I’m at the pub right now writing this post and there are lots of cats around.

The DJ is blasting Shaggy. Time to head home.

Before I left home my mom (or Alma, as some people prefer to call her) asked me to send her a detailed, written copy of my travel itinerary. I asked her why and she said it was because she wanted to know where to “start looking” in the event I go missing (her words not mine). Now I’m not planning on disappearing or anything like that but I will admit I did spend a couple of hours on the flight over musing about how she would go about searching for me if I did.

Her approach would be quite different from mine. I would start with the digital traces – Facebook updates, blog posts, geo-tagged images, and the like. But while she knows how to use a computer, my mom is from an era where one had to press comically hard just to operate a keyboard. Which back then would have been attached to a typewriter. A manual typewriter that didn’t even use electricity. Probably the first thing she would do after discovering I was missing is jump on the next flight to IST and start her search in-country, on the ground, old school.

Her investigation would begin slowly at first, tracking down and interviewing any people I might have had contact with – the flight crew of AC810, the employees working the the information desk at IST Terminal 1 arrivals, my AirBnB landlord, and any of my friends in the city. She would of course have to recruit some local sources from the criminal underworld. This would be accomplished by her hiring a grizzled, low-rent, private detective named Tolga to help her navigate Istanbul’s seamy underbelly.

When interviewing any potential witnesses she would show them a hardcopy of this image (my most recent selfie available) which would have to be accompanied by a disclaimer saying that my appearance could have changed – it is Movember after all.

We would eventually find out that Tolga, a disgraced former police officer, was kicked off the force a few years earlier and that he refuses to reveal why, his gaze shifting down and to the right every time the subject is brought up. My mom would have some reservations about hiring him because she remembers seeing the YouTube videos of the Taksim protesters being whaled on by all those cops in riot gear (none of whom were disciplined) and she would just assume that he must have done something extra crazy to get himself fired.

So even with the detective’s help it would have taken a while to piece together all the information about my first few days in Istanbul, but eventually my mom would get a break in the case after receiving a ransom note via one of Tolga’s sources. The note (written entirely out of letters cut from old newspaper headlines) would demand payment of money in exchange for my safe return setting into motion a cat-and-mouse game of Hostage Negotiation.

And I have to say that I think it’s a good thing that securing my release would be the responsibility of my mother (and if not her, someone who shares an emotional bond with me). This bond is important because the government employees who normally run these things get paid no matter what happens to me, while someone with whom I share an emotional connection will go that extra unpaid mile to get me home safe.

I worked in government for many years with many great and competent people. But the environment tends to be one that is adverse to risk, and successfully negotiating a ransom this complicated will require risk taking, creative thinking, improvisationing, and extra mile going. It’s unfortunate but the incentives just aren’t there for the government guy. The person I have an emotional connection with – that’s the person in whose hands I want to place my life. My preference is for someone with experience negotiating million dollar business deals and who has access to a good copy editor (to reduce the likelihood of the deal being soured by a spelling error).

Anyway, it remains to be seen how this all ends. The only thing I can say right now is that we find out that Tolga was fired from the police for disobeying a direct order to turn the gravel sprayer he was manning on a group of non-violent protesters and that he ends up teaching Alma several valuable life lessons about the unreliability of social and cultural stereotypes.

Day 1 to 24 Istanbul (Turkey)
Day 25 Luxembourg City (Luxembourg)
Day 26 to 30 Paris (France Republic)
Day 31 Istanbul (Turkey)
Day 32 Back in Canada

Gravel sprayer T35 in happier times.

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Did you know that a Canadian Prime Minister once posed nude for an official photograph? To find out which one, you’ll have to read through to the end of this post. You think you know who it is? Here’s a clue – you’re probably going with “Liberal Party” but nope – “Progressive Conservative”. On the outside those guys are all Snow White but in private, they’re wearing ladies’ underpants.

Hello and greetings from the world’s shittiest WiFi network! My blog is back and it’s going to be better than ever. I’m writing to you today from Terminal E at Toronto Pearson’s Airport International.

For my blogging of this upcoming trip (Turkey, Istanbul) I’ve decided to spice things up a little. You see lately my blog’s hit count has been at an all-time low and I need to make some changes if I’m going to defeat my brother in the War of the Blogs (I recently won the War of the Cars). I’ve been averaging only two hits per day while he uses his position as a respected, successful, published author and educator to drive tonnes of traffic to his site.

My articles this time out will continue to include all of the traditional things you’ve come to expect from a blog that is dedicated almost entirely to writing about the plumbing and electrical systems of distant, far-off lands – but I’ve decided to add some new features:

• Teaser intro paragraphs (like the one above) that grab the reader’s attention and won’t let go until the end of the article
• Sponsored content. Send me $5 and I will write anything you want – I’ll even make it so that the people reading the post believe the content to be true.
• Naked photographs of Kim Campbell – she’s the one who has benefited most of from Canada’s variable-length election cycle.
• Sensationalized Headlines – ones that are so outlandish, the the reader’s head will literally explode after reading them. Thousands will die.
• Altered photographs that defy the imagination but are purported to be real.
• Final paragraphs that force the reader to go back and skim the whole article a second time because they don’t include the promised resolution to the teaser from the intro paragraph.
• Cryptic references to movies and TV shows that the reader has not seen or even heard of.
• Salacious claims that are written as truth but are patently false.
• Misleading links to previous blog posts that have but a fleeting relation to the topic at hand.

So there you have it. That’s what you can expect over the next thirty-two days. It’s a ten hour flight. Next post will be from a different timezone – I’m not exactly sure which one

I have this recurring dreammare (they sometimes happen during nap time) where I fall in the water (a swimming pool, a river, a comically oversized bathtub) and all my electronics get damaged beyond repair. It wasn’t always like this.

Before the first iPhone was released all my dreams were about falling or drowning or being naked on the last day of school where I need one course to graduate and I didn’t attend any of the classes and the exam starts in ten minutes. But ever since I started carrying a nine-hundred dollar computer in my pocket my subconscious priorities seem to have shifted somewhat.

And if my current worst fear is going to come true it will most likely happen in the next 25 hours as my phone and I will be surrounded nonstop by water as my uncle and I race to Toronto in his sailboat to try and catch the end of the film festival before it closes. I’ve never been on a boat before so I’m not sure what to expect. If there are any sailors out there amongst my readers, any words of guidance would be very helpful.

First up – the name of our ship. I can’t tell if this is a good sign, or a bad one. Are vikings ladies renowned for their ability to remain upright and afloat?

I know a few but am afraid to ask.

My next concern is related to our supplies. If we get stuck on the water for a few days, this is all the sustenance we have with us.

Full disclosure: I’ve already eaten one of the bags of candy (we’re still in port).

And finally – the seaworthiness of our vessel. Important parts of our boat are held together by duct tape. Duct tape that was applied by yours truly. The blue tape is for marine applications.

I hope.

Stay tuned for updates.

You can see they show a $710 offer but it is not possible to purchase a ticket at this price (I scanned through all the months). 

Your help in getting the $710 ticket is greatly appreciated. 

The link is here. 

Hi guys, I hope all is well.

I wanted to write you a quick note to thank you for letting me use your car for the past fews days while you’re on vacation. It’s been very convenient to not have to bike to the Value Village to shop for my jigsaw puzzles – especially in the rain. Normally I’d be sending this to you in a private email but Google has locked me out of my Gmail account again and right now this is my only reliable means of communication.

I promised I would give you an update on how things are going with your car and I am happy to report that there have been zero problems so far. However I did make a couple of configuration changes to your vehicle. Don’t worry – I didn’t do anything stupid like add fins to reduce wind resistance or get a flame-style paint job on the hood (the guy at the body shop is still on vacation this week.)

But i did reprogram the presets on your radio – Live 88.5 is now at #7. This is the prime station you guys listen to so I thought it’d be best to move it to one of the buttons that is a prime number (so you don’t forget where it is). I have no idea why you had it on number 3.

I turned off this thing called “eco boost” to save on fuel because I don’t need the increase in speed – I always drive at 90% of the posted limit so keeping it enabled is redundant.

And speaking of the economy, I remembered to write down the mileage like you asked when I filled the tank, but you never told me which type of fuel to use – so I just filled it up with a few litres from each of the five options.

I also managed to figure out how to get the car’s bluetooth stereo to work with my phone. My apologies for calling you at 07:00 AM to help me with that (btw you were right – it doesn’t require a password). I only realized the next day that with the time difference it was like five in the morning where you guys are. Unfortunately it’s still not working perfectly. Do you know how to make is so that the Candy Crush sounds don’t play over the music when I’m driving? I still haven’t been able to figure that out.

That’s all for now. I’ll be there on Sunday to collect you from the airport. Oh, and before I forget – remember when you told me that your car has a factory-installed speed limiter? Well I checked and it doesn’t.

Or if it does, it’s at a rather impractical setting.

I wasn’t going to blog this visit to New York City – I’ve been here too many times before and there’s no hundred-year-storm adventure to entertain you readers with stories of a Snake Plisskenesque abscond from the Big Apple.

But…

sometimes (actually all the time) I get great ideas that I just have to share. And today’s shareable idea happened to come to me while we (me, Nick, Debbie and a mysterious traveller known only as J) were stopped at the Price Choppers in Watertown (WNPI) on our way to go see a taping of the Colbert Show.

Problem: advertising is expensive to produce. It takes lots of time and money to develop an effective ad.

Solution: just take a picture of someone else’s crappy advertisement and then overlay an image of the different product you are promoting, post the resulting photo to Facebook, and then have one of my cousins share the shit out of it – sending it all around the world!

I’m not selling anything right now so I don’t have an official product to add to my sample pic, but I think you get the idea.

There you go – super easy. You get to benefit from the hard work of others without having to pay anyone for anything.

And before I forget… readers – make sure to bring some U.S. cash with you on your New York road trips – your newly purchased E-Z Pass toll booth transponder takes one day to become active and it won’t work right away in the non-credit card accepting Lincoln Tunnel. This means you should just activate the device when you get to your destination instead wasting time sitting in the parking lot of the Price Choppers trying to register it on your iPhone while your Chrome browser (seriously who uses this) crashes repeatedly delaying our arrival and causing us to miss the first half of the meaningless, demoralizing (for fans and players) third place World Cup Soccer match.