OKay I know I sorta promised but the truth of the matter is that I have nothing- at least as far as hockey/mining analogies that aren't totally dumb. Though it would be fun to play some sort of hockey type of game with the heavy equipment. So on to something else.
Next week we will be going to the Calgary Comics Expo! The last comic con I went to was in 1989, I think, shortly after I moved to Edmonton. Todd McFarlane and Stan Lee were there! But I don't really remember that much about it. Hopefully this one will be more memorable. A lot has changed in 20 years. One interesting trend lately has been "covering" covers. In the same way musicians will cover favorite songs, artists who grew up on comics are covering their favorite covers. Incredible Hulk #340 is one of the classic covers of all time, and there have been a few takes on it, including some zombified versions. Here is the original, and then the zombie version that appeared in Marvel Zombies:


Personally I like Josh Medors' zombied-up version:



Shaun Ward has been doing a series of classic covers, including Hulk 340 and Spider-Man #1 (both McFarlanes):



And House of Duck posted 12 covers that he hopes to cover in his own cartoon style, so far he has one. You can do it!

I think tomorrow after I've had some sleep I might blog about the similarities between hockey teams and coal miners. But for now, a story about sleep.

On the first night, around 3:30 AM I was hanging out with my buddy Robin the pumpman. He had helped me with a bunch of oiler stuffs and now we were going to investigate why one of his pumps- nay, his most important pump- mysteriously stopped pumping. Such mysteries occur frequently and can have many different solutions, from pressing a reset button and everyone living happily ever after to having to replace a pump in a deep dark pit at 4 in the morning accompanied by cursings of all and sundry.
But first, coffee break. So I fell instantly asleep, and apparently was snoring. I never used to fall so deeply asleep at work but babies have that effect on you I guess. So next thing I know it's 5:45 and Robin is leaving in the coal van to pick up the coal haulers- his final duty of every shift. Groggily I slide over to the driver's seat of the pumptruck and drive away to kill off the last 45 minutes of the shift. My main concern is finding somewhere isolated to hide and try to wake up. Vaguely I wonder if Robin got that pump going or not but really, it's almost home time and I don't actually care.
Suddenly here comes the big boss, doing his morning tour in his pickup. He's making a beeline for me, thinking I'm the pumpman since I am driving the pumptruck. Oh no! I pretend I don't see him and take off. Luckily it's dark enough that I can sort of get away with that. So I drive away towards a different pit, the one with the mystery pump, and to my dismay I see Big Boss is following me. No doubt he wants to debrief about the pump but I really can't see how that conversation can possibly go well for me- I can just imagine it: Hi Homie Bear, did you get that pump going last night?
Ummm, I don't really know. Maybe?
What do you mean you don't know?
Well, I . . . am just very very tired.
So anyways I had no choice but to pretend I didn't see him. It was a little awkward when he passed me and waved but sometimes you just have to stay the course.

I'm still an oiler! So everything remains status quopacetic. Since the Edmonton Oilers didn't make the playoffs this year (again) maybe you can cheer for me!

Happy Easter! I have to go back to work tonight after nearly three weeks of blissful laziness. Great timing, eh? Here boys have three weeks off see you on Easter! Oh well.
Anyways here is an Easter homily for you, courtesy of Stephen Jay Gould, from Bully for Brontosaurus:

But no battle exists between science and religion- the two most separate spheres of human need. A titanic struggle occurs, always has, always will, between questioning and authority, free inquiry and frozen dogma- but the institutions representing these poles are not science and religion. These struggles occur within each field, not primarily across disciplines. The general ethic of science leads to greater openness, but we have our fossils , often in positions of great power. Organized religion, as an arm of state power so frequently in history, has tended to rigidity- but theologies have also spearheaded social revolution.

SJG was a great man, co-author of the paper that introduced the idea of punctuated equilibrium in evolution. He also championed a pet idea in his essays and lectures- that science and religion comprise "non-interfering magisteria". I admire his effort to bring peace between the two, but I don't quite buy into the idea that these are two areas of human endeavor that have nothing to do with each other. But anyways, happy Easter! I'm off to work!

Yesterday a present arrived alla way from New Zealand courtesy of aunty gabrielle! Pallas says thanks for the bear paws! Or yeti claws.
And here she is modelling the onesy sent us from my dA friend the rebel-penguin!



Anyways did you happen to catch Billybob Thornton on Q this morning? It was such a cringe-inducing interview that if you missed it you should listen to the podcast.

Drood: A Novel

So Dan Simmons has a new book out. Luckily he must have told Michelle about it so she could buy it for me because otherwise I don't think I would have known. I'm not sure how I feel about living in a world where a new Simmons novel is not front page news or at the very least trumpeted in the blogosphere. Maybe I just hang out with the wrong crowd.
Anyways the new book is called Drood and is, like most Dan Simmons books, a horror-tinged exploration of a literary giant or two. The Hyperion Cantos explored the works of John Keats and had a killer robot thing called the Shrike. Ilium/Olympos was all about Homer, Shakespeare and Proust and had a killer monster in the form of Caliban from The Tempest. Drood is all about Charles Dickens and has a killer vampire thing named Drood. Unlike those first examples, Drood is not sci-fi but rather historical fiction with, as far as I can tell, very few liberties taken with historical fact.
What really? How can that be? Well, the narrator is Wilkie Collins, someone I only knew of because gabrielle read The Woman in White on our Malaysia/New Zealand excursion. Collins is tortured by professional jealousy of Dickens and "rheumatical gout" which he medicates with laudanum and other opiates. And if I tell you any more you will perhaps not enjoy the book as much as I did.

I've always thought it was cool that, despite their size and miles of electrical wiring and computer chips and dips, that the shovels we have at work are not all that different from Mike Mulligan's steam shovel. In fact the first steam shovel was invented in 1839, and the design which we essentially still use today originated in the 1870s.
Check out this video of a vintage 1921 steamshovel, still running in a museum or something:



And a rather shaky video of a 1924 shovel- looks like it is about to tip over several times but that is just the cameraman!
I love that the operator had to yank on the trip cable. So much nicer having a little button! But otherwise, exactly the same principle.
Next week when I go back to work I will no longer be a shovel oiler. I was asked to step up and take one of the open shovel operator bids and I turned them down. Politely, but firmly. It is too hard on my back to operate those full-time. So it looks like I will have to go back to driving truck. Or else they will promote me anyways. We'll see I guess.

For an April Fool's joke we are taking our tiny little daughter and poking her full of holes! It's Pallas' immunization day today. That's okay -she plays plenty of jokes on us- she loves to wait till after I change her diaper to have a poo. Sometimes while I'm changing her.

Just before Pallas was born I started playing around with Tiltshiftmaker, and then completely forgot about it till now. It's kind of fun taking some of my pics of the giant mining machines I work with and "miniaturizing" them. It doesn't always totally work but the end result is cool anyways. And they all look way better in fullview so click on the photos for the tilt-to-the-hilt goodness.

So, something like 13 years ago I took this English class, Feminist Literature in the 20th Century. It turned out to be pretty much the best course I ever took in university. Yeah I know I majored in geology, shut up.
Anyways, we read books like Beloved and The Color Purple and probably even some books by white women though for whatever reason they don't stand out in my mind very much. One of the books in the syllabus was Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God. For whatever reason I never got around to reading it. Actually, the reason is I never got around to buying it. But whatever. The salient point here is that I finally got around to it this past week. Great book Dr. Read! Can I still hand in my paper on it?
I liked Janie a lot, and I liked Tea Cake, though I wasn't sure he was trustworthy. I'm glad she finally came alive with this scoundrel after living for so many years as the Mrs Mayor and just being a shell of a person. And the end is amazing, totally makes the book, though I won't say anything about it. Don't want no Their Eyes Were Watching God spoilers here!
Also, just read The Art of Star Wars Revenge of the Sith. That is a seriously beautiful book. Some of the concepts that got discarded were pretty cool. Though I am glad young Han Solo was cut from the final movie.

Day 1 of a 20 day break from work! Sweet! I think I really deserve it too since so far this year I have worked 30 days. But seriously, this last week was soooo long. I was running shovel 10, the big digger. I find running that thing for 12 hours a little hard on the shoulders, back, and neck. Dig dig dig! Dig dig dig! Honka horn! Swing dis way! Swing dat way! Dig dig dig!



But now I can relax and be with my family.

I solemnly swear to pursue the twin values of mischief and havoc to the ends of the earth. Cuteness in extremis!
So say we all.

It must be spring because the winds are whipping up again at the mine. The one night we had gusts of 100 mph. Yup, miles. Even the heavy equipment sways in that kind of wind. And guess what? We still gotta be out there, though the boys and I refused to move shovel 6 since it was non-essential. Charlie our drill oiler was acting junior foreman this week, so I took over his duties. One of which is to water up the drills. Sometime around 3 AM I went and grabbed the water truck, the one with no shocks or heat, and drove it to the fillup. All you have to do is hook up a hose and fill up the tank, maybe two tons of water?? I have no idea how big the tank is, but it doesn't take long. While it was filling up I just rested in the cab. When it's full water comes out the overflow valve and off you go. So when I heard the telltale spray I unhooked and went back to the drill. Had to wait for him to finish the hole he was on, and then I pulled up and started to hook up. That's when I noticed the tank was empty! #*&%!!! The water was draining out of the drain valve not the overflow valve so by the time I got there it had all drained out. Not being a drill oiler normally I forget to check these things. So I drive away in disgust. Herman calls over the radio, "Where are you going?" So I had to answer him over the radio, where everyone can hear. "Someone left the drain valve open so I gotta go get more water."
When I get back to the fillup I discover my hose is gone. #*&% some more!! Now I have to call my buddy Robin over the radio and ask him to retrace my steps to see if he can find where I dropped it. Anyways he finds it and it isn't all mangled though he told me it was. So repeat the whole process, all the while trying not to get blown away by the wind. After about a half hour Herman comes out of his drill and says the tank isn't filling up at all! #*%& and &%*#!!! So I check my hookup, there are two valves you have to open, as well as an electrical cord to plug in and a power switch for the pump. It all looked good. Finally I notice a breaker on the drill was turned off. Finally I get it right, and something that should have taken an hour at most has taken four.
When Robin points that out to me, I say, "Well, I have to admit it was partly due to my incompetence."
"No," he says, "it was completely due to your incompetence."
Oh the love.
Anyways, once again I discover I have no good pictures of our newish drill to illustrate, but I did find this gem, and was shocked when I read my own words to describe it- we were using this drill in this century??? Wow.



I guess I shouldn't be too surprised since we are still running shovel 6 fullbore. That one is a year newer than me, and I am no spring chicken. On the last night the wind finally died down so we had to move it. Move it a loooooong way, too. The guys on the other shift refused to do it since it has no brakes. So they told me it got new brakes on the dayshift. I thought that was a little weird because the last time it got new brakes it was down for two months. And the new brakes never really worked any better than the old ones. But I did it. We use bullldozers as backup brakes anyways just to be sure. A D11 walks backwards in front of my track and is ready to stop my track with his blade if I need it. Of course at one point we needed it. The shovel shut off when I was trying to turn (shovel 6 doesn't turn real well since that is where you use the brakes and as we have seen, shovel 6 doesn't really have brakes) and it started rolling forward. I was on a downramp so I had to call Spike the dozer operator on the radio: "Spike I'm rolling I need you to stop me. Spike! The shovel shut off! Right now Spike!" Anyways a crisis was averted.

And you gotta check out this crazy pencil animation of an x-wing fighter attacking the death star- click through and then press download, it's safe.

I saw in the newspaper today that all the bad news means people are especially in need of cutes. Seems that pictures and videos of cute things is good for you neurologically. Thus, my service to you today:





In fact there has been no shortage of bad news it seems around here. A guy I work with, actually whose locker is right next to mine, passed away suddenly yesterday. And just all kinds of stuff like that. 

*goes to hug his little daughter*

Pretty much the best music video ever:



Gowan's Strange Animal was the very first cassette tape I ever got, and I listened to it about a zillion times. Put it on my iTunes a while back and now my wife has discovered this song. For some reason she thinks it's about me.

The shovel I was operating at work today got the CBC so I was able to listen to Canada Reads. Are you listening in? Which book are you cheering for? I bought Michelle Book of Negroes for Christmas and Outlander for her birthday (and she got it signed at the CBC panel discussion last week) and she loved them both. I haven't read either yet but I'll definitely read Book of Negroes. Fruit sounds interesting, too. But I think Lawrence Hill is going to take it.
Anyways, if you were on the panel, what Canadian novel would you recommend? Or, for our New Zealand audience, what Kiwi work?
I think my rec would be . . . umm, hmmm. Maybe Calculating God by Robert J Sawyer? Or how about - see, my problem is my favorite Canadian books are all either:
a. non-fiction. Klondike by Pierre Berton!
b. children's books. Silverwing by Kenneth Oppell!
c. science fiction. Darwinia by Robert Charles Wilson!
All the CanLit classics I've read have been alright but not HomieLit classics. Not Wanted on the Voyage, The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz etc. Read them for fun not for class, but really, give me the sci-fi anyday. However Flying Troutmans was good. Miriam Toews. Check her out.

So, other than my daughter, what else do I find awesome these days? Hmmm.

I'm digging this huge freshwater stingray. The headline link on the NG main page is "World's Biggest Freshwater Stingray Found?" and then you see that photo when you click on it. So you can't help but think that they found it in that kiddie pool.
Nautiloids (nautili? nautiluses?) are pretty cool too.

This is why we all need to go back to cassette tapes right now! Though I would be happy to stick with my iPod Touch if someone would write an app that turned it into a lightsaber.
Remember that episode of the Tartakovsky Clone Wars cartoon that had Padme and Yoda (and C3PO and R2-D2) on a snowy planet and they were attacked by droids? So do these artists:
Katie Cook

Adam Hughes
'
Grant Gould

Cuz rly u need to have a bath sometimes.

Thinking about the eye thing- in the comments a few posts back we were discussing whether the human eye ever grows. "They" say it doesn't, but looking at a baby's eyes it's hard to believe. And it doesn't make sense because the eye develops in utero right? It must grow at some point in there so why not ex utero? Must be a myth. A giant squid has the biggest eye ever but a baby giant squid is about the size of a jellybean.

Anyways. I like to play this game when I read the newspaper- whenever I see a crazy headline I always add "due to the bad economy" and then read the article. Today it was "Shark Attacks Down in 2008". Sure enough, this was blamed on the economy. I guess blamed would be the wrong word, but you knowutimean. Apparently, the recession means less tourism which means fewer tourists in the oceans for sharks to bite.

Anytime you spend more than three weeks away from a coal mine you pretty much need a tour to get oriented again. Geologic changes that would ordinarily take millions of years and an asteroid impact or two we accomplish in a month. None of the shovels are where you left them. One of our main roads that we've been using for four years is all dug out. Now we have to use alternate routes. Which means that my old hiding places are no good anymore!
Our cable reeler is broke down. Which sucks. Means all the endless cable work we always do now has to be done by hand, and with pickup trucks. The cable reeler is an old- like, 25 years or so- Cat loader with a reeling attachment instead of a bucket. As cantankerous and bitchy as it is, it is one of the most valuable pieces of equipment out there. Without it, moving shovels and drills becomes extremely difficult. Can't move your shovels and drills? Can't mine. Yet we find a way. And the big bosses see we can make do without so they don't sweat about the reeler so much. See how it's a vicious cycle?
I missed a minor bit of excitement when a baggie of dope was found on one of the haultrucks. Charlie was joking that he should go claim it, since just last month he had to get his PSP back from the big boss. Then I said he could just say it was medicinal marijuana that he'd bought with his health and wellness account. But the funniest was on facebook where one of my friends was sending birthday greetings to another guy: Happy birthday man! Did you find that bag of weed I left you?

This is the only photo of the cable reeler I have! The machine with its back to the camera. I guess even I take it for granted. Well, if you care, my friend Craig posted a pic on Facebook but I dunno if you can see it or not. It's kind of hidden behind the haultrucks.

Happy Family Day! I am going to celebrate by leaving my family behind to go off to work for a couple of days. Only two, just baby steps here. But after that it is back to the 4 on 4 off rotation. Ergh! Okay, me go spend time with my family now.

I love this sequence of photos:

Yogic Flyers

have you heard of the yogic flyers?

their flyer caught my eye

the one on the bulletin board I mean

and I couldn't get them out of my mind

I always wanted to fly

though I was never much for yoga

but I went to their meeting

spent three hours 

bouncing on my bum

my friends laughed when I told them

and they howled when I showed them

but I'm just at stage 1

next week I'll learn stage 2

and after that

well

I'll wave to you from the clouds

Okay I don't really know where that came from, I just wanted to write a quick fun poem to prove I still can even with a baby in the house (helps that Grandma is here for a few days to help out). Check out this video for more on yogic flying. I think I saw Aang!

Life is still pretty crazy but there is time to read a book of poetry (really excellent stuff, Harvey, for real!) and watch a season of Lost. There just isn't that much time to discuss such things in depth.

But, time for a  favorite passage from Moonshot, from Tusalava:

a

porous world

within skin

where silly bacilli wobble

a jelly ballet

on invisible wires

I think tomorrow we will try our first outing as a family. In the last week I have left the house twice to go to the store. Michelle hasn't left at all as she recovers. And Pallas has only been outside once in her entire life!  To come home from the hospital. So our big adventure tomorrow will be modest- a trip to the local SCup I think. Time to get my child her first espresso. 

Anyways, while People Magazine hasn't called to offer us a million dollars to publish photos of  Miss Athena, the internets is still lighting up with photos of her here and there.

I gave Michelle The Tales of Beedle the Bard as a stocking stuffer, and I just read it the other day. Fun book, pretty much perfectly suited for stuffing a stocking. I think my favorite tale was Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump. Which sounds like it might be a cutesy Beatrix Potter-like confection, but none of the tales really are, and I think Rowling even casts some thinly veiled scorn hexes at Potter. Uh, Beatrix, not Harry.

Anyways, a good excuse to bring the Quidditch Bear back for a few days!  When is the new Harry Potter coming out, anyways?

Neil Gaiman was on Q this morning. The Coraline movie comes out tomorrow. Which means Michelle and I should be able to see it in a year or so. Oh well. Coraline was the first book I read to Michelle when we started dating. I remember going to Hawrelak Park and laying in the sun, reading about this brave little girl and her Other Mother.

Anyways, now that Michelle has to spend quite a chunk of time feeding Pallas, I started reading to her again. This time it's The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews. Good book, funny. Partly depressing too but I am sure Pallas won't pick up on that. When she gets a bit older I will start reading to her for sure. Good books with just the right amount of subversiveness, like Coraline and anything by Roald Dahl.

Baby's sleeping, wife's resting. I have a few minutes.
That turned out to be a lie but now wife is feeding baby and I have a few minutes. So. The ordeal.
Tuesday morning we woke up at 6:30 or so and Michelle calmly informed me she was feeling contractions. Not crazy ones but definitely contractions. Breakfast was normal, I even timed my farts to join in the fun. Turns out there is no pattern to those. We did our normal routine, went shopping, went for lunch, all the while contractions, regular and manageable. We even watched Hellboy II which I really enjoyed. Cool villain. But by the afternoon we decided to call in our doola. Dula? Doula? However you spell it it means someone who helps and advises us in the childbirth process. In this case my aunt. She sat with us for a while and said that when the contractions got to the point where they lasted 30 seconds and were coming every four minutes or so we should head to the hospital. So we did.
They sent us home, since there was hardly any dilation.
A few hours later it was even worse so we went back.
They sent us home.
The next day.

And it just kept getting worse for Michelle. I got five hours of sleep but she didn't. Her birthday and she was in hard labour the whole time. I don't even remember when we went to the hospital for the third time. Sometime in the afternoon. Even then they couldn't do much as she just wasn't dilated enough. But the sympathetic nurse let us walk around for an hour and then she would re-examine her. So we did, and Michelle threw up from the pain. Finally the nurse declared she was 4 cms which might have been a fudge but whatever. We were in. Right away she got set up with an epidural and that made a huge difference for her pain. But even with oxytocin there was not much progress and another 12 hours or something went by. Finally her ob-gyn came and said it was time to do a c-section- baby was facing the wrong way and was stuck. Michelle welcomed it but it turned me into a mess. They're gonna cut my wife open! My baby is stuck in there and not coming out any other way. Not much sucks worse in the world that I've ever known than that.
But you know what? Less than an hour later Pallas was born and Michelle was fine.
Pallas was more or less healthy but swallowed some maconium or myrconium or whatever you call it so they whisked her away to the brand new neonatal intensive care unit where she had to spend her first 24 hours in a cool Viper-like canopy.

There she got fitted with some wires and leads and sensors and even a cylon toe! But she is not a cylon. She looked a little like a mountain gorilla when she was first born because her head was all coned up from getting stuck but that went away. And her little rancor arms too!
Anyways, so we spent something like 5 days in the hopital. Mom had wires and Pallas had wires and it was sorta scary, but it was nice to have so many amazing nurses looking after everyone. Even the first poo meltdown was rescued by a nurse while Michelle and I watched slack-jawed in shock and awe.
We're home now and thanks for all your support!

She's here! She's home!



Her name is Pallas and she's perfect!

Well we've been to the hospital and been sent home- but Michelle is definitely in labour and has been since 6:30 AM. Tomorrow- well, in five minutes, it's her birthday!  And likely my baby's birth day as well. Cheers!

Look what came in the mail yesterday:
First some art cards I bought from Spiderfreak818:

(Just the Royal Guard from that last image)

Then my friend the Rebel Penguin made a chibi version of, well, I guess their names are still kinda secret at least from the internets. Anyways, he put them on little tiny t-shirts for the baby and sent them to me! Sweet! Here's the image he made, from his deviant gallery:

No baby yet.
But I am on holidays for the next 22 days so now it can come whenever. I won't have to abandon my buds in the midst of moving shovel 10. Because that would have been awful. Just terrible.
Anyways.
Have you ever read Guy Gavriel Kay's The Summer Tree? It's the first part in a fantasy trilogy, popular enough to warrant a special 20th anniversary edition, but so far after a hundred pages I am not really that into it. Neither do I hate it. Earlier I read his newer book Ysabel and had the same reaction, though I have a friend who loved it enough to read it out loud to his wife.
One writer I absolutely love is Augusten Burroughs. Friend at work recommended him. You might not know his name but maybe you saw the movie based on his book Running With Scissors? I haven't but I plan to sometime soon. The book is all about his childoohd and it's crazy. Funny and shocking too. Then there's Magical Thinking which is more essays about his life after childhood. Good stuff. Look- he's got a blog! Uh, blob, actually.

Today is the due date, but still no baby. Therefore I am heading off to Hinton to work nights. No sense burning holiday time till the baby is actually born.

I'm reading Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things. Obviously it's fantastic. I love short stories. It's been a while since I read some, and even longer since I wrote one. But here's the first part of a story I wrote under Gaiminspiration. It's kind of a true story, I just fictionalized the particulars a bit.

It was his retirement tour. If he was honest with himself, it was his second retirement tour. The first time it was after he got married. No married man should be out hitch-hiking around, he told himself at the time. So just this one more trip. And a few years later when she told him she was pregnant, and after the euphoria settled down, he decided he should hit the road one more time before the baby came and he had to become responsible.
He grabbed his sleeping bag and hiking boots and quick! out the door. He left a note for his wife telling her how much he loved her and that he would be back in a few days. Most other wives would have been angry and she was no different but she would forgive him. She knew when she married him he was a wanderer. And so long as he wandered highways and not beds she could live with it, even if she worried.
He never worried, not really. Sometimes he got into peculiar situations, even times he might call Crazy Fucked Up Shit, but he always found his way home. And anyways he had a way with people. He could build a rapport without even trying. Most times he didn't try, actually, and his rides would open right up to him. He was a story sponge. He never told stories, he just absorbed them from the people who gave him rides. You're a good listener they would always say. Thanks for the ride he would say.
It took a couple of hours to get out of the city- it always did. He hated that part but it had to be done. Once out on the highway though it was better. Even when it took hours to get a ride it was better. He could think. This time he had a lot to think about. Being a dad. Talk about Crazy Fucked Up Shit. His thumb was out but he didn't really look at the passing cars. Someone would pull over eventually. Maybe sooner, maybe later.
This time it was sooner. He almost didn't notice, actually, all lost in thought. It was an 18 wheeler. Usually the big rigs didn't stop. Too dangerous. Against the rules. Insurance costs too much. You know. He had to approach casually, in case the driver had pulled over to check a map or something and hadn't meant to pick him up. But the driver waved him to hurry so he climbed in.
Middle-aged white guy, hair going grey. Thin. They greeted each other. Then from the sleeper he noticed two kids. Brothers, probably, though they were not both the same color. The younger one was metis, by the look of him. The driver asked where he was headed. Prince Rupert I think, he said. Maybe the Charlottes.
I can get you to Jasper at least.
Cool. Thanks.
Name's John. These are my sons. Matt. Luke.
He thinks to himself, Matthew Luke and John. Who's missing? Mark. But he says, pleased to meet you.
The boys are shy at first but their rambunctiousness wins out eventually. They are on an adventure with their dad, and strange hitch-hikers just add to the fun. They ask him all kinds of questions, and he answers them till their dad tells them to leave him alone. Luke, or maybe Matt, though, gets in one more before they comply. Do you have any kids?
Not yet. Wife's expecting, though.
John beams. No kidding? Congratulations man! Kids are the best thing ever happened to me.
Jasper is four hours away, and they spend the time telling jokes. The kids in the back love knock knock jokes. He tells them his favorite.
Knock knock.
Who's there? they both shout.
Bearp
Bearp who?
You just said bear poo!
They laugh, and then they discover the plenitude of permutations of this single joke, each more hilarious than the last. Cowp! Dogp! Giant Squidp! Gorillap! Tyrannosaurus Rexp!
John buys them all lunch in Edson. While the kids eat their burgers and giggle, John asks about the baby. When it's due. If he's excited. Scared yet?
Soon John starts talking about his own kids. He says being a trucker's hard on a marriage. So he takes the kids when he can. The wife doesn't ever come though. But at least he's still married.
Later, in Jasper, when John drops him off so he can turn south on the 95, he jumps out of the truck there on the side of the road. The kids are sleeping.
It was nice meeting you, man.
You too. Thanks for the ride.
Listen.
Yeah.
When your baby comes. You love that baby. Take care of him. Her. Whatever. They're the most precious gift god will ever give you.
I will. For sure.
Maybe you noticed Luke and Matt aren't full brothers.
No I never noticed.
Well, they aren't. Luke is my son. One time I came home early from a two week haul. There was a strange car in the driveway. Well, you know the story. But you know what? I believe in the bible and I forgave her. Matthew is my son and I love him. I'm a lucky man. I really am. And so are you.
John held out his hand and he shook it. John got back in his truck and drove away.
He stuck his thumb out.

Also, Megadeth's Rust In Peace album is a lost classic. Tornado of Souls! Holy Wars- The Punishment Due! Hangar 18! Dawn Patrol! Hard to believe it's been almost 20 years.
Yet I know some of you won't rush to download it from iTunes. If you want something a little more current try Hayloft by Mother Mother. And of course always Wendy McNeill. Why haven't you listened to me about her yet? Check out "Stop" and "White Horses".
Ah Megadeth.

No baby yet. Today would have been a good day for it to arrive since it was a bad day at work. Not the Worst Day Ever but the worst day so far this year at least. Our big digger has been down for a month and the bosses were getting antsy to get it working. It finally came up today. So we had to move it to where shovel 8 was. And then shovel 8 had to move to where shovel 6 was. And then shovel 6 had to move to where shovel 10 was. Which is easy to do when you are an engineer moving blips around on a map, but not so much fun when you are the guy who has to do all the grunt work with the cable and stuff. Plus a little short on the manpower today. There was even some Blood Boiling Over here and there, which is actually pretty rare at the ole coal mine, at least from my foreman. He was mad because we Stopped For Lunch. We were mad that he was denying us our Marxist right to Stop For Our Damn Lunch Already. So I was calling Michelle and asking if she was having the baby yet so I could go home. She kept saying no even when I was like, "Are you sure? Really? Because it seems like you might be contracting to me. What was that? Did your water just break?"
Anyways, we moved all the shovels and I came home and still have no baby. Maybe tomorrow.
On the plus side- from the time I got on the highway from Hinton all the way to here I didn't have to stop once. I might have fudged a yellow light a bit at Henday and Terwillegar just to keep the streak intact but I did it.
I finished The Baroque Cycle a few nights ago. I don't think I've ever used the term tour de force before in my life but it fits. At least I assume it fits since I don't really know what tour de force means. Kickass awesome is what I think it means.

I was busy at work today but I had a bit of time to take some pictures. But these ones are specifically for a little four year old guy named Benjamin. His mom is a friend from deviantArt and she was showing him some of these photos:




And even a little video:

So I'm all about the podcasts right now, since Michelle got me a iPod touch for Christmas. Mostly CBC stuff, like Spark and Q and As It Happens (technology, pop culture and current events respectively). And some NPR stuff from the States, I hear they're alright. Otis Frampton does a podcast with one of his friends about writing and drawing comics. I can't draw but I always like hearing more about the writing process.
How about you- know any good ones? Come to think about there are a ton of BSG podcasts from the cast and crew aren't there? Hmm. BSG starts up again on Friday- but I am still a few episodes uncaught up so no telling me cylons!

Though any day the baby chooses to come would be fine by me, if I can have a choice I choose not today. Today is my worst day, because for me it is still yesterday. You are in the future of me! Woke up yesterday at 2 PM, worked all night, drove all morning, now I am shaky from adrenaline and caffeine. Luckily it seems there is little chance of baby so far.
January 20th would be a pretty good day- auspicious as they say in the East. I suggested we name her Barack if she is born that day. Hell, even if it's a boy. But Michelle forcefully informed me that the Great Naming Negotiations are closed. What have we chosen to name our child? You'll just have to stay tuned. Unless you're one of the billion who we already told.

Pinkzilla!
They discovered a new species of iguana in the Galapagos, and it's pink! I can just see the Godzilla sequels now. Sweet. Okay, well, reading the article more closely I see it is not actually a new discovery, only that it has just been named a separate species. I think this still calls for a celebratory poem:

Pink iguana don'tcha wanna
go to Tokyo and meet Gojira
a kaiju jubilee a monster bash
I would go but I'm strapped for cash

Great minds think alike. Star Wars artists Grant Gould and Jamie Snell both had the same idea recently for a sketchcard:




And if that wasn't enough Fetts for ya then check out this archive footage at Starwars.com where Boba Fett's original costume is taken out for a test drive.