Now that fall is about a month away, and I don’t often carry a camera with me, I’ve decided to curate a couple Twitpics from the summer:
08/22: An intriguing-looking house on Gonzales Beach.
08/02: Pedo Bear at the Peace Arch.
08/07: Truck Music in Gastown (Michael Connelly reference, BTW)
Northern Voice is a two-day, non-profit personal blogging and social media conference held at the UBC main campus, Vancouver, Canada on May 7-8, 2010. I just finished a day where I learned about Cascading Style Sheets, WordPress’ plans for its version 3 release and got to connect with some Twitter contacts I never see the rest of the year.
A massive group of photos were produced throughout the day, so I thought I’d share a few here.
photo credit: kk
photo credit: GusF
photo credit: bryanh
photo credit: choconancy1
And for the record, there were about six or seven iPads from my count when keynote speaker Bryan Alexander asked everyone who had one to hold it up.
I feel like a kid at Christmas — I feel like I used to feel. You know: counting down the days, making crafts at school and bringing the felt-draped, Popsicle-stick-glued mess home to mom to hang on the tree?
That’s like what it is for me, except it’s the Olympics! And the popscicle stick ornament is actual work I get paid to do (of much higher calibre, naturally)! And it’s like living in Santa’s home-town except it’s +10 degrees and with no elves or reindeer and more aerial patrols.
That’s what it’s like.
I’m like Ralphie with a dozen Red Ryder BB guns with compasses in the stock and this thing which tells time.
It just can’t get there fast enough, but instead of one day of celebration, we get 17 whole days! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!
photo credi: Miss Barabanov
Lastly, as with all Christmases, there are Grinches and Scrooges. Less than a handful of mainstream journalists have said the people of Vancouver are miserable or the Games are going to be no good — whatever. Mark my words, these are the same writers who will be scribbling articles about a “Post-Olympics hangover” regardless of the outcome. To give you something to think about, if it gets your blood up, we have an old saying in social media for folks like that, and it goes like this: Don’t feed the trolls.
Do you make New Year’s Resolutions? Why don’t you make half-year resolutions, or any-time-of-the-year resolutions? I’d say if you’re going to make a commitment to yourself worth keeping, you don’t need to wait until the beginning of the year to make it — you’re just setting yourself up to fail.
One half-hearted New Year’s “wish” I thought about for 2009 was to read more — boy, did I read more. For the first three quarters of the year, I had a lot more time on my hands, and I started reading much more than I had before. A benefit of that was I continued reading in my spare time, after things got busy again. It’s been great.
I can’t think of any other resolution or 2010 commitment to make other than to get better at what I’m already doing (something that should be always desired), and if something comes up that I want to put my mind to –whether it’s February 18 or July 12 — I’ll start it then.
I was reading through Obama’s Nobel acceptance speech.
War, in one form or another, appeared with the first man. At the dawn of history, its morality was not questioned; it was simply a fact, like drought or disease – the manner in which tribes and then civilizations sought power and settled their differences.
Do you know someone who can acknowledge something that seems immutable but wants to change it?
Is it possible?
A non-violent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. Negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda’s leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism – it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.
You can find the complete Nobel speech here.
I’m almost halfway between 21, “city girls who lived up the stairs” and 35, “blue-blooded girls of independent means” in Ervin Drake’s It was a Very Good Year, a song made famous by Frank Sinatra. Instead of my life as a vintage wine, though, I’d say it’s more like a ripe 40 oz. of Colt 45 — for now.
In 44 days I’ll have made it longer than Kurt Cobain. I’ve already beaten Tupac Shakur by 641 days. I still prefer beer over wine and do a poor job at feigning adult sophistication for anything better than Baby Duck. I’m sure I’ll get there.
Am I apprehensive about segueing gracefully into the autumn of my twenties? No. Judging by some guys I’ve met in their mid-thirties, I’ve got plenty of time to mature.
When people feel uncomfortable about their age, I think they feel uncomfortable with where they’re at in life. Sure, Alexander the Great conquered something like a quarter of the civilized world before 20 — we can’t all be that great, but we can try, set goals and aim the best we can at the modern-day equivalent of what we think is greatness. Those who have made a living off inspiring others claim it’s doable, but achieving a fraction of what your mind can imagine one step at a time maybe will lead you to greatness. Bitterness is the product of being denied something you think is owed to you. Think of the goal and the end result as something you must earn and you won’t have that problem. And even if you don’t ultimately succeed, it’ll still be a lot more rewarding — and a lot more fun — than if you had never tried.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my slippers and a comfortable-looking chair waiting for me to ease myself into…we’ll re-visit the philosophy of aging when I’m 32.
We’ve all heard it: “Your ‘stache is trash,” “Your beard is weird” and other gems from Walt “Clyde” Frazier and Keith Hernandez in the Just for Men commercials (I don’t know who they are, but…they’ve got to be important, they’re on TV).
After taking these proclamations to heart, and after seeing all the colour-filled upper-lip foliage at the Movember Tweetup on Thursday, I thought it would take this opportunity to get further into the Movember spirit (Note: this has nothing to do with a number of people commenting that it was hard to see my moustache in the low light of Diamond that night).
You know what? I try. I try to present the societally-accepted intensity and meter of moustachitude. It’s what’s required of men these days — just part of life. I don’t know if others really feel it. But I feel it…in my heart.
Just for Men is hard to find. Security at the London Drugs on Robson and Bute will not have me back, but that shouldn’t stop you. And don’t give up just because the sales assistant at the drug store gives you a funny look when you ask her for “male hair dye.”
Nothing says salon colour, at home, like two lines of goo in a clear plastic tray.
It was on sale for 9.99, okay?
I will just let the photo speak for itself. That’s right. Drink it in. I feel like Tom Hanks in Castaway finding Wilson. This is me. No more words.
So, if you’d like to help me in my quest for $1,000 for prostate cancer research, please pass this on and donate on my page:
I had never tried it before, so I thought I would give it a shot. This is my first post from a Blackberry. I just logged into my dashboard the way I would any other time.
Shame I don’t have much more to say. I’ll be sure to have something extremely urgent next time I do this.
WordPress has just released WordPress 2.8.5 with “hardening fixes” intented to protect against exploits. I am upgrading as I type this because I have seen the consequences of not being quick on the draw.
Hi, I'm Michael (of Vancouver, B.C.). Welcome to my blog. Read more about me.
