I return to blogging today because I understand there has been a disturbance in the Force.
It isn't right to say that we should consider whether or not a woman has control over her body. All this wondering aloud about "when life begins" is truly BS, coded talking points expunged from Great Amounts of Male-Dominance Seed Money collected from paranoid, depraved anti-social oddities of the human race that are as willing to jump aboard a ship of well-meaning fools as they are incapable of feeling the fit of their fellow fools' shoes.
It's a false argument: "where does life begin?"
I don't know and you don't know, and if there is one thing for certain, it's that outside of our cushy Canadian existence, where the sanctity of human life is held higher (if not nearly high enough for our humanitarian ideals), there are craploads of people elsewhere, whom we leave to suffer and die prematurely every time Bono snaps his fingers, while we arm their oppressors for our own profit - in order to enjoy such a high level of health and prosperity for ourselves. Within our borders. And not, so much, without.
So if you find yourself wringing your hands over the decision of a woman to excise the growth within herself before it becomes a viable human being for which she will be ultimately responsible, ask yourself what you are doing to alleviate the suffering of those who are already here and grasping for hope for any kind of life. Ask yourself if this is really the debate we need to engage in. Ask yourself why you feel you are progressive in your blogging.
There are those of us who have been here a spell, who await your answers.
Showing posts with label navel gazing dept.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navel gazing dept.. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, September 14, 2009
What a Find: Schoolhouse Rock pronoun vid
Sometimes it's good to lighten the load a bit. The Schoolhouse Rock series was the epitome of the 1970s' effort to make good use of television's educational possibilities. If nothing else, it brings back fond memories. I was tickled pink to find my personal favourite among a slew of them on youtube:
Maybe ol' Jim Flaherty could look into using something like this for his project to educate Canadians on the world of finance (I heard them musing about it on CBC Radio One early this morning - link anyone?)
Of course, Flaherty might be wise to sign-up the whole Harper cabinet for remedial Finance 101 first (himself included). How big is that deficit projected to be this week now?
- 30 -
Maybe ol' Jim Flaherty could look into using something like this for his project to educate Canadians on the world of finance (I heard them musing about it on CBC Radio One early this morning - link anyone?)
Of course, Flaherty might be wise to sign-up the whole Harper cabinet for remedial Finance 101 first (himself included). How big is that deficit projected to be this week now?
- 30 -
Thursday, March 05, 2009
EI came through blessedly early
I almost feel ashamed.
While some have been waiting months to receive any EI payments, mine has gone through in just over two weeks since submitting my Record of Employment (or RoE).
But even though it's less than half my former salary, it couldn't have happened at a better time, since I continue to wait for my final paycheck and severance pay from my former employer.
Meanwhile, a friend tipped me off to a Marcom writing job at my alma mater.
I applied within hours.
Because even though it's just a one-year contract, the pickings are too slim not to get excited about it. It's a good thing I have up to forty weeks before the EI money dries up.
-- 30 --
While some have been waiting months to receive any EI payments, mine has gone through in just over two weeks since submitting my Record of Employment (or RoE).
But even though it's less than half my former salary, it couldn't have happened at a better time, since I continue to wait for my final paycheck and severance pay from my former employer.
Meanwhile, a friend tipped me off to a Marcom writing job at my alma mater.
I applied within hours.
Because even though it's just a one-year contract, the pickings are too slim not to get excited about it. It's a good thing I have up to forty weeks before the EI money dries up.
-- 30 --
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Job Hunt: The Craigslist Test
Recapping my situation:
I got laid-off from my job late last month.
Right now, I am still at least five weeks away from my first potential EI check (of unknown quantity) and have gone unpaid from my former job since mid-January, including my severance pay owed. I have every faith in them paying me once they have the cash on hand to do so, but I am not sure when I can count on seeing it.
I know I must resume bringing home the bacon pretty soon or there will be payments defaulted upon, and the dread fear of foreclosure.
Last week, I started aggressively seeking work in my field by creating profiles on job-hunting and job-recruiting sites over the past two weeks.
Quantum.ca
Workopolis.com
Monster.ca
Sapphireca.com
Earlier today, I noticed a randstad.ca office in my neighbourhood, so I dropped by and explained that I am an out-of-work copywriter/tech writer/journalist and what might they have for someone with my skills? Unfortunately, they are more like office clerk/secretary/administrator recruiters. I was told they couldn't help me.
I came back home to review the jobs posted on the four sites above, only to find nothing new in the past 24 hours. I did apply at one place on Monday, but have not heard back yet. I would have responded to other job postings but they either sought skills I lack, or were out of my sphere. The one job that matched me well enough to apply for looks like a lot of sweat, and comes at a 25% (or more) pay cut from my previous job. But I can see myself taking that job enthusiastically.
With no other good news, today I went on Craigslist.com and did four things:
1. Searched for posts of people wanting anything I can viably offer.
2. Posted my resume.
3. Posted a notice for my mandolin/guitar services.
4. Posted an ad to finally sell all those comic books taking up space in my apartment.
This is serious stuff. I am not yet at the end of my rope, but I sure can see it clearly from here.
- 30 -
UPDATE: Portions of the original post have been removed to respect the wishes of the person they made mention of.
I got laid-off from my job late last month.
Right now, I am still at least five weeks away from my first potential EI check (of unknown quantity) and have gone unpaid from my former job since mid-January, including my severance pay owed. I have every faith in them paying me once they have the cash on hand to do so, but I am not sure when I can count on seeing it.
I know I must resume bringing home the bacon pretty soon or there will be payments defaulted upon, and the dread fear of foreclosure.
Last week, I started aggressively seeking work in my field by creating profiles on job-hunting and job-recruiting sites over the past two weeks.
Quantum.ca
Workopolis.com
Monster.ca
Sapphireca.com
Earlier today, I noticed a randstad.ca office in my neighbourhood, so I dropped by and explained that I am an out-of-work copywriter/tech writer/journalist and what might they have for someone with my skills? Unfortunately, they are more like office clerk/secretary/administrator recruiters. I was told they couldn't help me.
I came back home to review the jobs posted on the four sites above, only to find nothing new in the past 24 hours. I did apply at one place on Monday, but have not heard back yet. I would have responded to other job postings but they either sought skills I lack, or were out of my sphere. The one job that matched me well enough to apply for looks like a lot of sweat, and comes at a 25% (or more) pay cut from my previous job. But I can see myself taking that job enthusiastically.
With no other good news, today I went on Craigslist.com and did four things:
1. Searched for posts of people wanting anything I can viably offer.
2. Posted my resume.
3. Posted a notice for my mandolin/guitar services.
4. Posted an ad to finally sell all those comic books taking up space in my apartment.
This is serious stuff. I am not yet at the end of my rope, but I sure can see it clearly from here.
- 30 -
UPDATE: Portions of the original post have been removed to respect the wishes of the person they made mention of.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Fun with filling out Employment reports for EI claim
It still irks me how clumsy the Service Canada website is. I find it disappointing that you have to drill down through much silliness to find a link to any useful destination, such as the page I must return to every two weeks to enter mandatory EI reports.
You would think they might offer a quick login function for "epass" right on their homepage, but no. Same for the reporting page for your EI. It's almost as if it was purposely designed to deter you from providing the information you absolutely must provide in order to keep the government from pulling the plug on your money. Are they hoping people will haplessly screw up so they can use that as an excuse to cut them off? I sure hope not, and I don't want that to be my fate, so I am putting up a link here to that bi-weekly EI reporting page.
Also, they didn't design it with the kind of intelligence you might expect. Instead of hanging onto my info (SIN and Access Code, etc.) for the duration of the session, the user has to go and enter it over again for each period reported, then double-confirm various questions separately. Honestly, does the application really think my banking information for direct deposit has changed in the minute or two since I just told them it hadn't changed (including verifying that I knew that I told them it hadn't, and that it was correct)?
Anyway, I have now updated the past three weeks of info since I made my initial application, including the first two weeks with the regular pay my former employer will pay me (when they can, anyway... someday... hopefully...) That and the week ending today with no work entered.
One of the questions one must answer is a yes or no regarding whether you were physically capable of working such and such days of the past week that you just confirmed you did not work. The only thing missing is a built-in admonishment like: "Well what in hell is wrong with you then? You mean you couldn't work anywhere all last week? Anywhere at all?"
Finally, it told me I should return on Feb. 28 to fill in my next report. Looks like I'm all set because when I try to send in a new report it gives me the following message:
Grumbles...
- 30 -
You would think they might offer a quick login function for "epass" right on their homepage, but no. Same for the reporting page for your EI. It's almost as if it was purposely designed to deter you from providing the information you absolutely must provide in order to keep the government from pulling the plug on your money. Are they hoping people will haplessly screw up so they can use that as an excuse to cut them off? I sure hope not, and I don't want that to be my fate, so I am putting up a link here to that bi-weekly EI reporting page.
Also, they didn't design it with the kind of intelligence you might expect. Instead of hanging onto my info (SIN and Access Code, etc.) for the duration of the session, the user has to go and enter it over again for each period reported, then double-confirm various questions separately. Honestly, does the application really think my banking information for direct deposit has changed in the minute or two since I just told them it hadn't changed (including verifying that I knew that I told them it hadn't, and that it was correct)?
Anyway, I have now updated the past three weeks of info since I made my initial application, including the first two weeks with the regular pay my former employer will pay me (when they can, anyway... someday... hopefully...) That and the week ending today with no work entered.
One of the questions one must answer is a yes or no regarding whether you were physically capable of working such and such days of the past week that you just confirmed you did not work. The only thing missing is a built-in admonishment like: "Well what in hell is wrong with you then? You mean you couldn't work anywhere all last week? Anywhere at all?"
Finally, it told me I should return on Feb. 28 to fill in my next report. Looks like I'm all set because when I try to send in a new report it gives me the following message:
Your report is not yet due. Our records show that the period you should be reporting for is the 2 week period from february 15, 2009 to february 28, 2009. The earliest this report can be filed is friday morning, february 27, 2009 at 08:00 eastern timeNote that I am not given access to review my own records entered for the previous weeks. Why not? That's just wrong.
Grumbles...
- 30 -
Canada's EI - the staff are great but the process bites
Well I'm evidently not the only one left confused by the Service Canada website's process for registering Employment Insurance claims. Another blogger, the Rural Canadian, has had a pretty tough go of it himself, with no action on his claim after 16 weeks - 16 weeks! - of fruitless effort.
That's enough time for any number of financial horrors to befall a family. I know I couldn't hold out that long.
So, no time to waste: I went down to my local EI office yesterday afternoon, and I found it was staffed with courteous, bilingual people and my visit took just 20 minutes altogether, including wait time. The reason for making the trip was simply to produce the RoE (Record of Employment), and since I'd already entered the other info online, the only thing left to do was to stamp my RoE with the date it was received. They then offered to give me a photocopy - which I gladly took since it was the only type of receipt available.
The agent then mentioned the importance of going online or calling in with an update bi-weekly, and how by missing just one, my benefits would be cut-off. So this process begins immediately, and that's the part you have to go through the "epass" login to do. (I swear I could sense she was bracing herself for my reaction to this news, like it was her least favourite part of her job. But I just nodded, having already seen that warning on the website.)
I suppose some people lay into the poor Service Canada employees who are helplessly forced to explain this nasty little policy.
I was also told not to worry about the erroneous End Date I'd initially reported, which I had been forced to enter in order to finish the original application (three weeks ago now). I am not able to correct it myself, they said, and someone in Service Canada would see the true date on my RoE and make the necessary correction.
In retrospect, I notice the webpage for my local office has a fax number listed, so I wonder if making the trip in person was in fact obligatory. Perhaps faxing in the RoE would suffice, but I feel better having a copy that shows a stamp confirming they got it.
I just want to say once again how professional and empathetic the two staff members were (and the woman from the phone centre too). It was truly heartening to be made to feel like a human being, and the understanding they showed reminded me of the sort of feeling you get when you're in the hospital and scared and in pain and - by some stroke of luck - you just happen to get that sympathetic nurse who knows exactly what the term "caregiver" is all about. In short, I left feeling like I knew what I had to do, and the visit was well worthwhile.
Oh, and this was toward the end of the day on a Friday, during what must be the busiest time they have ever seen. Well done, Service Canada employees. I salute you. Now can somebody please tell me why the website is such a terrible mess? And get to work on Rural Canadian's claim, which by all rights should get fast-tracked like nothing else.
16 weeks. I'm still having a hard time digesting that.
- 30 -
That's enough time for any number of financial horrors to befall a family. I know I couldn't hold out that long.
So, no time to waste: I went down to my local EI office yesterday afternoon, and I found it was staffed with courteous, bilingual people and my visit took just 20 minutes altogether, including wait time. The reason for making the trip was simply to produce the RoE (Record of Employment), and since I'd already entered the other info online, the only thing left to do was to stamp my RoE with the date it was received. They then offered to give me a photocopy - which I gladly took since it was the only type of receipt available.
The agent then mentioned the importance of going online or calling in with an update bi-weekly, and how by missing just one, my benefits would be cut-off. So this process begins immediately, and that's the part you have to go through the "epass" login to do. (I swear I could sense she was bracing herself for my reaction to this news, like it was her least favourite part of her job. But I just nodded, having already seen that warning on the website.)
I suppose some people lay into the poor Service Canada employees who are helplessly forced to explain this nasty little policy.
I was also told not to worry about the erroneous End Date I'd initially reported, which I had been forced to enter in order to finish the original application (three weeks ago now). I am not able to correct it myself, they said, and someone in Service Canada would see the true date on my RoE and make the necessary correction.
In retrospect, I notice the webpage for my local office has a fax number listed, so I wonder if making the trip in person was in fact obligatory. Perhaps faxing in the RoE would suffice, but I feel better having a copy that shows a stamp confirming they got it.
I just want to say once again how professional and empathetic the two staff members were (and the woman from the phone centre too). It was truly heartening to be made to feel like a human being, and the understanding they showed reminded me of the sort of feeling you get when you're in the hospital and scared and in pain and - by some stroke of luck - you just happen to get that sympathetic nurse who knows exactly what the term "caregiver" is all about. In short, I left feeling like I knew what I had to do, and the visit was well worthwhile.
Oh, and this was toward the end of the day on a Friday, during what must be the busiest time they have ever seen. Well done, Service Canada employees. I salute you. Now can somebody please tell me why the website is such a terrible mess? And get to work on Rural Canadian's claim, which by all rights should get fast-tracked like nothing else.
16 weeks. I'm still having a hard time digesting that.
- 30 -
Thursday, February 12, 2009
EI frustrations partially explained
Well, about an hour ago, I finally got through to a Service Canada calling queue, and only waited a couple of minutes before speaking with an agent. (Recall that before today, their 1-800 number's outgoing message had been telling me they were too busy to handle my call, and I should try later.)
I found the maze of back & forth using their touch-tone response system was not very productive for my purposes. "All questions must be answered and no response may be entered until the full question is asked. Press 9 for 'no' and 1 for 'yes'. Press * to hear the question again..."
But the woman I finally spoke to was fantastic, helpful and on-the-ball.
She knew about the feature that restricts applicants from going back in and changing the End Date of their employment (or anything else for that matter), and was the first to mention the following bit of information, which I found to be pretty crucial to the whole process:
I have to personally visit my local Service Canada Centre, Record of Employment in hand, during business hours in order to get the ball rolling. And here I had assumed (because there is nothing on their website saying as such, nor in the letter they mailed to me) that I could enter the information online, thus saving a federal employee from carrying out this task manually.
Well, it's too late for me to get there today, but at least I know tomorrow what and how to do, and where to do it.
On the job hunt front, I put my new Resume onto profiles I created on Quantum, Workopolis and Monster, and now it's time to browse their job postings.
To date: Since being laid off, I have six new accounts with usernames and passwords to keep track of, and some that include "challenging questions" (I expect a huge increase in spam). It is indeed an ITIL-defined world after all. Surely someone out there needs a guy who can concoct or update documentation for all these labyrinthine virtual worlds.
- 30 -
I found the maze of back & forth using their touch-tone response system was not very productive for my purposes. "All questions must be answered and no response may be entered until the full question is asked. Press 9 for 'no' and 1 for 'yes'. Press * to hear the question again..."
But the woman I finally spoke to was fantastic, helpful and on-the-ball.
She knew about the feature that restricts applicants from going back in and changing the End Date of their employment (or anything else for that matter), and was the first to mention the following bit of information, which I found to be pretty crucial to the whole process:
I have to personally visit my local Service Canada Centre, Record of Employment in hand, during business hours in order to get the ball rolling. And here I had assumed (because there is nothing on their website saying as such, nor in the letter they mailed to me) that I could enter the information online, thus saving a federal employee from carrying out this task manually.
Well, it's too late for me to get there today, but at least I know tomorrow what and how to do, and where to do it.
On the job hunt front, I put my new Resume onto profiles I created on Quantum, Workopolis and Monster, and now it's time to browse their job postings.
To date: Since being laid off, I have six new accounts with usernames and passwords to keep track of, and some that include "challenging questions" (I expect a huge increase in spam). It is indeed an ITIL-defined world after all. Surely someone out there needs a guy who can concoct or update documentation for all these labyrinthine virtual worlds.
- 30 -
On Resume rewriting and applying for EI
Why does it seem everyone has an opinion on how to write an effective resume (or whether to call it a "CV" instead?) All sorts of opinions sound valid - even when in direct conflict with one other.
In the end, you're playing a fool's game where you try desperately to hit the right tone with every word, so that any recruiter would be inspired to call you for an interview. Will they be offended if I include salary expectations? Did I strike the right balance between confidence and humility? Or do I come off sounding like I'm sickeningly infatuated with myself? Do I mention this blog or will that turn them off? Is it flat-out wrong to go to two-pages? Or to only have one? Does it really matter?
??????????
Worst of all, the presentation and writing on display are particularly crucial for someone going after jobs with "writer" in their titles. That's pressure, because the use of one font or another might be all it takes to dissuade certain recruiters from getting that warm-fuzzy they need to decide to contact you. But then, do I really want to work for someone that hair-splittingly fickle?
[pauses to breathe...]
I have resigned myself to never being completely happy with the damn thing, but at least I now have a basic one that I'm comfortable with. It's designed so I can tweak it a little here or there to meet the specific criteria of one job or another - hopefully without stretching credulity. In a somewhat bold move, I decided to give the thing a headline and an opening summary:
Meanwhile, I still haven't managed to finalize my EI application, although I did learn there is Access Management in place on Service Canada' site after all: "Epass Canada" they call it. But it's confusing because when I made my initial online application, it gave me a confirmation number and password outside of that (and with no link or explanation of where to use it - plus no mention of either of those things in the letter they sent by snail-mail). It all seems rather disjointed and if it's putting my skills at navigating online services to the test, how difficult is it for the typical non-savvy IT user to get their heads around?
- 30 -
In the end, you're playing a fool's game where you try desperately to hit the right tone with every word, so that any recruiter would be inspired to call you for an interview. Will they be offended if I include salary expectations? Did I strike the right balance between confidence and humility? Or do I come off sounding like I'm sickeningly infatuated with myself? Do I mention this blog or will that turn them off? Is it flat-out wrong to go to two-pages? Or to only have one? Does it really matter?
??????????
Worst of all, the presentation and writing on display are particularly crucial for someone going after jobs with "writer" in their titles. That's pressure, because the use of one font or another might be all it takes to dissuade certain recruiters from getting that warm-fuzzy they need to decide to contact you. But then, do I really want to work for someone that hair-splittingly fickle?
[pauses to breathe...]
I have resigned myself to never being completely happy with the damn thing, but at least I now have a basic one that I'm comfortable with. It's designed so I can tweak it a little here or there to meet the specific criteria of one job or another - hopefully without stretching credulity. In a somewhat bold move, I decided to give the thing a headline and an opening summary:
Copywriter with a head for IT and a gift for writingNow to get it proof-read by friends & family; then post the long version on Monster, Quantum, Jobboom, Workopolis and any other sites I can find. Then finally: off to a more active job searching.
I offer a unique mix of experience, skill and creativity that enables me to envision the hands-on application of complex technical concepts, then communicate that effectively to both the IT community and the general public. Whether defining ITIL-informed process structure and documentation; writing copy for marketing or technical documentation needs; or journalism of any sort, I am a versatile copywriter looking for an exciting new challenge with the right organization.
Besides that, I just plain really need a Goddamn Job:
Meanwhile, I still haven't managed to finalize my EI application, although I did learn there is Access Management in place on Service Canada' site after all: "Epass Canada" they call it. But it's confusing because when I made my initial online application, it gave me a confirmation number and password outside of that (and with no link or explanation of where to use it - plus no mention of either of those things in the letter they sent by snail-mail). It all seems rather disjointed and if it's putting my skills at navigating online services to the test, how difficult is it for the typical non-savvy IT user to get their heads around?
- 30 -
Red Tape Me to the Poor House, Service Canada (virtual-like)
Well, I finally navigated through four pages on www.servicecanada.gc.ca to get to a login page (to save you the trouble, it's here). Not that that will be of much help to anyone who is careful enough to use an updated browser for their own personal computing security. Here is the text of the bypass page I was redirected to:
Grumbles...
- 30 -
At this time, epass Canada does not officially support your browser, your Java Virtual Machine (JVM) or your operating system. However, you may still be able to access epass Enabled Services by clicking Continue below.Interestingly, I am using the same version of the same browser (Firefox 3.0.6) that I used two weeks ago with no problem at all in creating my original request.
If you encounter difficulties, please Contact Us for assistance.
Browsers and operating systems currently supported by epass Canada:
Windows 2000:
* Internet Explorer 6.0 (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_12 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_03 or higher; IBM JVM version 1.4.2 or 1.5.0);
* Firefox 2.0.0.7 or higher (version 3.x is not supported at this time) (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_04 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_03 or higher).
Windows XP Home and Windows XP Professional:
* Internet Explorer 6.0 (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_12 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_03 or higher; IBM JVM version 1.4.2 or 1.5.0);
* Internet Explorer 7.0 (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_12 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_03 or higher; IBM JVM version 1.4.2 or 1.5.0);
* Firefox 2.0.0.7 or higher (version 3.x is not supported at this time) (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_04 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_03 or higher).
Windows Vista:
* Internet Explorer 7.0 (Sun JVM version 1.6.0_03 or higher);
* Firefox 2.0.0.9 or higher (version 3.x is not supported at this time) (Sun JVM version 1.6.0_03 or higher).
Mac OS X version 10.4:
* Safari 2.0.4 (Apple JVM versions 1.4.2_07 to 1.4.2_16 and 1.5.0_05 or higher);
* Safari 3.0.4 (Apple JVM versions 1.4.2_07 to 1.4.2_16 and 1.5.0_05 or higher).
Mac OS X version 10.5:
* Safari 3.0.4 (Apple JVM versions 1.4.2_16 and 1.5.0_13 or higher).
Linux (Red Hat Fedora Core 8 and Ubuntu 7.10):
* Firefox 2.0.0.6 or higher (version 3.x is not supported at this time) (Sun JVM versions 1.5.0_04 to 1.5.0_99 and 1.6.0_02 or higher).
For more information about supported browsers, operating systems and JVMs please refer to our Technology frequently asked questions.
Please click Continue to proceed or click Cancel to end this process and return to the department.
Grumbles...
- 30 -
Copywriter/Editor/ITIL-knowledgable Process Designer for hire
Well, there's no more hiding it - the word is out (thanks, Simon!). Scott in Montreal got laid off and is seeking gainful employment in his field.
In a previous millennium, that field was Quick Service Restaurant Management (what, "fast-food" doesn't sound prestigious enough?)
But surely returning to that isn't the fate for someone with a BA in Communications and Journalism; plus over six years of experience writing marketing, technical and process documentation for different high-tech companies working in IT support activities.
At least that is my hope.
My first priority is getting the EI benefits set up so that if I don't find something soon, my kids don't find themselves foreclosed upon. As someone who has been actively working since he got his first paper route at 13, and has been without a job for less than 6 months cumulatively in the 26 years since, let me start by saying I have never, ever, received any government handouts (unless you include universal child bonuses and child tax credits). I have worked my whole life, and a good deal of it for minimum wage or slightly above. Even when I got my first McDonald's paycheck ($3.54 an hour, back in 1985) I was paying into the UI/EI fund.
Given that my former employer has seen all its usual avenues for financing dry up completely, and they can't even make payroll right now - despite having just had the biggest selling year in their company history - they have only promised the bare minimum required by law in severance pay. At that, they even demanded I come in and work during that two week period. So the upshot is: I haven't received any income since mid January, and only received my Record of Employment, required by the Canadian government to process my application for benefits, yesterday.
Being a hip, online type of guy, I decided to start by setting up an account and application on the Service Canada website on the day I received my layoff notice (I and 25% of the staff of the small Montreal head office, where my whole department was slashed). The website even recommended beginning the process immediately, whether the RoE was in hand or not, so that's what I did.
Before long, I found the form and started filling it out. Then I got to the place where it asks for the End Date of my employment (which was to be, officially, February 6th). Only: the application wouldn't accept my entry since it was later than the current day. Well I'd gotten this far and there was no overriding it so I decided the best way to proceed was to enter the current date, and then I would go back and correct it two weeks later, once the actual End Date came up.
Well, ITIL best practices for online service delivery demand an email notification and Access Management in the form of a username and password - the standard sort of thing Yahoo or Google or most utilities and online banking use for security, validation and service customization/quality of service.
Nothing like that over at Service Canada. As far as I can tell, they have their own proprietary practices, and I'm sorry, but they ain't the best.
Since putting in my request, I have been unable to retrieve it in any form; I wasn't allowed to print or save a copy, nor was I sent an email to tell me (or allow me to verify) my access credentials, or any link to where I might even view and edit it.
I did get a form letter in my (snail-) mailbox the following week, with an "IMPORTANT PERSONAL ACCESS CODE" (four digits) but no specific link on their website to actually, you know, enter my Access Code on, and, you know, actually access my application or anything.
They did include a 1-800 number, good during business hours and evenings. This proved to be useful after I was unable to navigate on their site back to my application, nor to any login button or place I could enter my spiffy four-digit "Access Code".
However, all three times I have tried to use the 1-800 number, I received a message telling me all their lines were busy and informing me to try again later. I wasn't even given an option to wait in a queue for the next available agent. Yikes.
I guess this is all part of making sure we don't lallygag about while living luxuriously off the public teat.
I'll post more on my experience soon. Right now I'm going to try the online service again and see if I didn't miss something the first 300 times.
- 30 -
In a previous millennium, that field was Quick Service Restaurant Management (what, "fast-food" doesn't sound prestigious enough?)
But surely returning to that isn't the fate for someone with a BA in Communications and Journalism; plus over six years of experience writing marketing, technical and process documentation for different high-tech companies working in IT support activities.
At least that is my hope.
My first priority is getting the EI benefits set up so that if I don't find something soon, my kids don't find themselves foreclosed upon. As someone who has been actively working since he got his first paper route at 13, and has been without a job for less than 6 months cumulatively in the 26 years since, let me start by saying I have never, ever, received any government handouts (unless you include universal child bonuses and child tax credits). I have worked my whole life, and a good deal of it for minimum wage or slightly above. Even when I got my first McDonald's paycheck ($3.54 an hour, back in 1985) I was paying into the UI/EI fund.
Given that my former employer has seen all its usual avenues for financing dry up completely, and they can't even make payroll right now - despite having just had the biggest selling year in their company history - they have only promised the bare minimum required by law in severance pay. At that, they even demanded I come in and work during that two week period. So the upshot is: I haven't received any income since mid January, and only received my Record of Employment, required by the Canadian government to process my application for benefits, yesterday.
Being a hip, online type of guy, I decided to start by setting up an account and application on the Service Canada website on the day I received my layoff notice (I and 25% of the staff of the small Montreal head office, where my whole department was slashed). The website even recommended beginning the process immediately, whether the RoE was in hand or not, so that's what I did.
Before long, I found the form and started filling it out. Then I got to the place where it asks for the End Date of my employment (which was to be, officially, February 6th). Only: the application wouldn't accept my entry since it was later than the current day. Well I'd gotten this far and there was no overriding it so I decided the best way to proceed was to enter the current date, and then I would go back and correct it two weeks later, once the actual End Date came up.
Well, ITIL best practices for online service delivery demand an email notification and Access Management in the form of a username and password - the standard sort of thing Yahoo or Google or most utilities and online banking use for security, validation and service customization/quality of service.
Nothing like that over at Service Canada. As far as I can tell, they have their own proprietary practices, and I'm sorry, but they ain't the best.
Since putting in my request, I have been unable to retrieve it in any form; I wasn't allowed to print or save a copy, nor was I sent an email to tell me (or allow me to verify) my access credentials, or any link to where I might even view and edit it.
I did get a form letter in my (snail-) mailbox the following week, with an "IMPORTANT PERSONAL ACCESS CODE" (four digits) but no specific link on their website to actually, you know, enter my Access Code on, and, you know, actually access my application or anything.
They did include a 1-800 number, good during business hours and evenings. This proved to be useful after I was unable to navigate on their site back to my application, nor to any login button or place I could enter my spiffy four-digit "Access Code".
However, all three times I have tried to use the 1-800 number, I received a message telling me all their lines were busy and informing me to try again later. I wasn't even given an option to wait in a queue for the next available agent. Yikes.
I guess this is all part of making sure we don't lallygag about while living luxuriously off the public teat.
I'll post more on my experience soon. Right now I'm going to try the online service again and see if I didn't miss something the first 300 times.
- 30 -
Friday, September 05, 2008
Look! Baby's Tagless Jammies are Burning her Skin
I have to pass this on from Nature Moms blog. Any parents out there with tagless kids' clothes take notice:
Parenting in the modern age, eh? In the end it was decided to go with non-plastic alternatives.
NOTE: my own two sons have shown zero reaction to tagless clothes themselves, despite wearing them continually. What I linked to here is admittedly an unconfirmed report, but a quick check on snopes.com found no urban legends reported on tagless clothes burns. That and the severity of the reaction shown in those pictures led me to want to pass it on just in case.
- 30 -
these labels may be made with “PVC blended into a Phthalate” or ink with “small levels of formaldehyde”. It was even stated that “residual phthalate from not fully fused ink is what is most likely causing the reaction.” And the reactions are horrible. Read this description of a reaction to Carter’s tagless clothes and look at these pictures.This reminds me of my visit to my local Pharmaprix (that's the brand Shopper's Drug Mart goes by in La Belle Province) a few months ago in search of a good teething ring for my baby boy. It was in the middle of one of those toy recalls and I was specifically hoping to find something not made in China, since it would be in and out of his little mouth constantly, and I had lost confidence in any product from China living up to its printed-in-Canada assurances of safety. Anyway, of eight products to choose from, not one was manufactured anywhere but China.
Parenting in the modern age, eh? In the end it was decided to go with non-plastic alternatives.
NOTE: my own two sons have shown zero reaction to tagless clothes themselves, despite wearing them continually. What I linked to here is admittedly an unconfirmed report, but a quick check on snopes.com found no urban legends reported on tagless clothes burns. That and the severity of the reaction shown in those pictures led me to want to pass it on just in case.
- 30 -
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Spring anyone?
Big storm still happening here. Definitely the biggest blizzard in what has to be called the toughest winter in living memory. I opened my front door this morning to find six inches of snow up against it, and level with my front walk (which is down three steps from the porch). That's a first.
Up and down my street none of the cars are distinguishable from one another except possibly by their side-view mirrors; they are merely igloo-sized white blobs. The sidewalk plowers evidently gave up on our street some time yesterday evening - they wouldn't be able to get through right now if they wanted to, because the banks on either side are too bulked-up with heavy dense snow. There is a narrow amount of passable street, but it certainly is not a good day for a drive.
CBC radio news is reporting:
- several highway closures and tens of thousands in the Quebec City region without power;
- the Societe de Transport de Montreal (STM) left the Metro stations open all night (without the trains running, however), just for shelter. They had numerous bus routes unable to run, what with four of their seven bus garages unable to open this morning, and lots of drivers and mechanics unable to get in to work (no kidding), meaning public transport is barely functioning.
- not much activity at any airports in the Northeast.
CTV says 40 cm fell on Montreal, which sounds about right.
And there is still some snow falling - or at least I think so, because the wind hasn't died down much.
But the Habs are #1 with a two-point cushion over the Sens, both our goalies are hot, and our balanced offensive attack has racked up more goals than all but one other team in the NHL, so it's a good day nonetheless!
Be strong, fellow Montrealers. This isn't Narnia; this can't go on forever, and the NHL playoffs should be fun this year!
- 30 -
Up and down my street none of the cars are distinguishable from one another except possibly by their side-view mirrors; they are merely igloo-sized white blobs. The sidewalk plowers evidently gave up on our street some time yesterday evening - they wouldn't be able to get through right now if they wanted to, because the banks on either side are too bulked-up with heavy dense snow. There is a narrow amount of passable street, but it certainly is not a good day for a drive.
CBC radio news is reporting:
- several highway closures and tens of thousands in the Quebec City region without power;
- the Societe de Transport de Montreal (STM) left the Metro stations open all night (without the trains running, however), just for shelter. They had numerous bus routes unable to run, what with four of their seven bus garages unable to open this morning, and lots of drivers and mechanics unable to get in to work (no kidding), meaning public transport is barely functioning.
- not much activity at any airports in the Northeast.
CTV says 40 cm fell on Montreal, which sounds about right.
And there is still some snow falling - or at least I think so, because the wind hasn't died down much.
But the Habs are #1 with a two-point cushion over the Sens, both our goalies are hot, and our balanced offensive attack has racked up more goals than all but one other team in the NHL, so it's a good day nonetheless!
Be strong, fellow Montrealers. This isn't Narnia; this can't go on forever, and the NHL playoffs should be fun this year!
- 30 -
Monday, April 23, 2007
You know you've ignored your blog way too long when...
...you go to log-in and everything has changed, where suddenly the log-in name you chose for yourself is now deemed out-of-date by the all-powerful Oz (read: Google) and you have to re-validate yourself just to get into the editing room.
...yours is the only browser that's visited your site in something like three months.
...Scott Tribe sends you a gently-worded email wondering if you still exist.
...half your site's links are not good anymore (and you hadn't even noticed).
Oh I could go on, but what's the point? Basically, there is no good reason for my absence of posts - what net time I have put in has been devoted to my beloved Habs on the excellent new Habs Inside/Out site hosted by the Gazette. There, I have been ruminating upon the daily drama that is the life of a hopeless, hapless (again this year, Cup-less) Canadiens fan.
I've also been hesitant to add a mere ho-hum entry, especially given how accidentally prescient my last post turned out to be. Topping a correct prediction is next to impossible.
Anyway, stay tuned (both of you). There will be more to come soon, including a little spring cleaning of the links, which is way overdue.
- 30 -
...yours is the only browser that's visited your site in something like three months.
...Scott Tribe sends you a gently-worded email wondering if you still exist.
...half your site's links are not good anymore (and you hadn't even noticed).
Oh I could go on, but what's the point? Basically, there is no good reason for my absence of posts - what net time I have put in has been devoted to my beloved Habs on the excellent new Habs Inside/Out site hosted by the Gazette. There, I have been ruminating upon the daily drama that is the life of a hopeless, hapless (again this year, Cup-less) Canadiens fan.
I've also been hesitant to add a mere ho-hum entry, especially given how accidentally prescient my last post turned out to be. Topping a correct prediction is next to impossible.
Anyway, stay tuned (both of you). There will be more to come soon, including a little spring cleaning of the links, which is way overdue.
- 30 -
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
A Scrotum Try
Ivan of Creative Writing found a nifty site that makes instant anagrams out of anything you throw in.
So he tagged me with this meme: find anagrams for your name (hence the title of this post), plus the name of your blogsite. Some other notables from my name:
A crust, my rot
A curt Ms. Tory
A cut Mrs. Tory
Scar my tutor
Trusty Marco
Scram, Trouty!
YMCA or trust
Carroty smut
Car smut Tory
Racy smut rot
...and far too many more variations with "scary", "smut" and "Tory". This is not all I had hoped it could be. As for anagramming "Tattered Sleeve", I don't think I have the stomach for it, but you can go ahead and put anything interesting you find in the comments thread. Go ahead and give it the 'ol scrotum try!
- 30 -
So he tagged me with this meme: find anagrams for your name (hence the title of this post), plus the name of your blogsite. Some other notables from my name:
A crust, my rot
A curt Ms. Tory
A cut Mrs. Tory
Scar my tutor
Trusty Marco
Scram, Trouty!
YMCA or trust
Carroty smut
Car smut Tory
Racy smut rot
...and far too many more variations with "scary", "smut" and "Tory". This is not all I had hoped it could be. As for anagramming "Tattered Sleeve", I don't think I have the stomach for it, but you can go ahead and put anything interesting you find in the comments thread. Go ahead and give it the 'ol scrotum try!
- 30 -
Sunday, February 05, 2006
The 4 x 4 Meme
I have been tagged with a meme sort of thing by Dazzlin' Dino of The Blogging Party of Canada. It appears to go like this:
list four places you've lived
1. Sherbrooke, Quebec (my birthplace), where Conrad Black first got into the media ownership thing.
...the rest are all communities on the island of Montreal:
2. Beaconsfield - suburb without that stripmall look.
3. Notre-Dame de Grace - great place for a Concordia student.
4. Mile End - part of the Plateau, which is where Mordecai Richler and Leonard Cohen grew up. Some of their haunts haven't changed in half a century, and Big Fast Food is nowhere to be found in Mile End, so you know it's a real treasure.
list four vehicles you've owned
(only one motorized, none the least bit hip)
1. My sister's hand-me-down, banana-seated purple one-speed bicycle. But I had no kilt.
2. Canadian Tire ten-speed bike. Not the lightest of bicycles, nor the flashiest.
3. When #2 got stolen, my dad's hand-me-down Canadian Tire ten-speed bike, which also was eventually stolen.
4. A "Pre-owned" 2003 Ford Focus SE station wagon.
list four jobs you've had
1. Montreal Gazette paperboy (3 years and two ice-storms, 1983-85)
2. Beaconsfield Golf Club golf caddy (lasted one day, but inspired the song Back Nine).
3. McDonald's crew, Crew Trainer, Crew Chief, Swing Manager, and Assistant Manager. (It lasted way too long, and never paid better than subsistence wages. That inspired more than a few songs, to be sure.)
4. Production Manager, Swensen's ice cream in downtown Montreal. It was pretty cool making ice cream one summer, until I realized it was wrecking my back - for little better than minimum wage. You had a lot of heavy tubs of ice cream to rotate every day. Like 150 vanilla, 75 chocolate, 23 strawberry, and between 4 and 16 of some 30 others.
list four vacations you've had
1. Tootled around New Brunswick (very pretty) and the Gaspe one summer. La Belle Province is at its most belle in the mountains between Rimouski and NB, IMHO.
2. I was once good friends with an ex-Canadian Navy Newfoundlander. I still haven't visited the Rock, but he and I went to Halifax visiting a career Navy buddy of his. Gorgeous city, Halifax. I'd live there.
3. An old girlfriend and I rented a car and drove around New England for a week one summer. We hit Boston, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut. The ship-building museum/town of Mystic Seaport blew me away.
4. When I was a kid, our family would go to the Birch Knoll Cabins for two weeks every summer in Ogunquit, Maine. (Looks like they've put in a pool and finished some of the interiors - it's probably ruined for me now). That's where I learned how to body-surf, which is perhaps the funnest sporting activity that requires absolutely no equipment. We used to coordinate our vacation with a few Connecticut families we met there. It provided some of my most vivid childhood memories, and inspiration for the song below.
Tags to:
JohnnyC at (Not So) Idle Thoughts.
Montreal Simon
Cheryl at The Galloping Beaver
Rossk at The Gazetteer
Ivan of Ivan Prokopchuk - Creative Writing (because I suspect he secretly loves these meme things)
Apologies if you have already been so tagged.
- 30 -
list four places you've lived
1. Sherbrooke, Quebec (my birthplace), where Conrad Black first got into the media ownership thing.
...the rest are all communities on the island of Montreal:
2. Beaconsfield - suburb without that stripmall look.
3. Notre-Dame de Grace - great place for a Concordia student.
4. Mile End - part of the Plateau, which is where Mordecai Richler and Leonard Cohen grew up. Some of their haunts haven't changed in half a century, and Big Fast Food is nowhere to be found in Mile End, so you know it's a real treasure.
list four vehicles you've owned
(only one motorized, none the least bit hip)
1. My sister's hand-me-down, banana-seated purple one-speed bicycle. But I had no kilt.
2. Canadian Tire ten-speed bike. Not the lightest of bicycles, nor the flashiest.
3. When #2 got stolen, my dad's hand-me-down Canadian Tire ten-speed bike, which also was eventually stolen.
4. A "Pre-owned" 2003 Ford Focus SE station wagon.
list four jobs you've had
1. Montreal Gazette paperboy (3 years and two ice-storms, 1983-85)
2. Beaconsfield Golf Club golf caddy (lasted one day, but inspired the song Back Nine).
3. McDonald's crew, Crew Trainer, Crew Chief, Swing Manager, and Assistant Manager. (It lasted way too long, and never paid better than subsistence wages. That inspired more than a few songs, to be sure.)
4. Production Manager, Swensen's ice cream in downtown Montreal. It was pretty cool making ice cream one summer, until I realized it was wrecking my back - for little better than minimum wage. You had a lot of heavy tubs of ice cream to rotate every day. Like 150 vanilla, 75 chocolate, 23 strawberry, and between 4 and 16 of some 30 others.
list four vacations you've had
1. Tootled around New Brunswick (very pretty) and the Gaspe one summer. La Belle Province is at its most belle in the mountains between Rimouski and NB, IMHO.
2. I was once good friends with an ex-Canadian Navy Newfoundlander. I still haven't visited the Rock, but he and I went to Halifax visiting a career Navy buddy of his. Gorgeous city, Halifax. I'd live there.
3. An old girlfriend and I rented a car and drove around New England for a week one summer. We hit Boston, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut. The ship-building museum/town of Mystic Seaport blew me away.
4. When I was a kid, our family would go to the Birch Knoll Cabins for two weeks every summer in Ogunquit, Maine. (Looks like they've put in a pool and finished some of the interiors - it's probably ruined for me now). That's where I learned how to body-surf, which is perhaps the funnest sporting activity that requires absolutely no equipment. We used to coordinate our vacation with a few Connecticut families we met there. It provided some of my most vivid childhood memories, and inspiration for the song below.
Tags to:
JohnnyC at (Not So) Idle Thoughts.
Montreal Simon
Cheryl at The Galloping Beaver
Rossk at The Gazetteer
Ivan of Ivan Prokopchuk - Creative Writing (because I suspect he secretly loves these meme things)
Apologies if you have already been so tagged.
- 30 -
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Weirder than Fiction
Is she weird?
Is she white?
Is she promised to the night?
And her head has no room
--Pixies' Is She Weird
I have been tagged by Dazzlin' Dino to come up with five things that are weird about me, myself and I.
- As the above picture of my son Francis suggests (seen here last month at just under 20 months), I believe strongly in the need for enforced child labour. And perhaps weirder still, my son loves the idea. While his grandparents inundated him with plastic beeping, whirring toys, still nothing beats the fun of vaccuuming (which I have every intention of reminding him about once he's in his teens and refusing to clean his room).
- I was was born with a bifid uvula (scroll down, it's near the end of the article).
- I have lived in La Belle Province my entire life yet my grasp of French is still intermediate at best.
- I graduated with a degree in Journalism and Communications over ten years ago, and was once the co-editor of a University newspaper but have still never been paid one red cent for any copy, stories or songs I've written.
- For chrissakes, I'm a blogger! What could be weirder than that?
Mark[Section 15]
CathieFromCanada (who seems to have ignored Dave's tagging, naughty girl)
Pretty Shaved Ape
Gazetteer
Ivan Prokopchuk (who probably won't stop at five, ...or ten even - that crazy cat)
Cheers all.
- 30 -
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Notes from my Trip to Texas (3rd in a series)
I was recently sent down on a business trip to the head office in a Dallas suburb. These are some random thoughts on the Lone Star state, and the state of George W. Bush's America from a Canadian visitor's viewpoint.
(Link to Part 1).
(Link to Part 2).
Part 3 - Hotel life
With the flight from Montreal to Dallas behind us, my boss and I are anxious to get to our hotel near the head-office in the suburbs. He’s careful to avoid the toll roads and is surprisingly not sure of where he’s going, considering he’s driven this milk-run at least twice already this year. Our route has been mapped out for us, courtesy of the rental car agent. We head north; on a road that bisects the airport. It’s strangely disconcerting to see a DC-10 crossing the overpass right-to-left above us.
We manage not to get lost. There is scarcely another car on the road, even though it isn't even 11:00 p.m. That could explain why there seems to be so much road - all of it in excellent condition - and seemingly little traffic to warrant it all (at least, compared to Montreal). This is fortunate since the exits pop up with little notice. In that regard, Texas and Quebec have something in common. But at least Texans know how to build a proper road. Ours are worse than horrible. There is also evidence around us of ample more highway construction going on. This area must be booming.
The hotel itself is quite nice. Six storeys and a plush, wood-finished lobby complete with fireplace. I gobble some orange-and-black candied popcorn from a bowl on the desk. It’s the only hint I’ve seen all day that it is Hallowe’en. We sign-in for our separate rooms and the clerk asks if we need anything. I inquire about the hotel bar. There is none, the clerk says. Oh. There is a place still open about ten minutes away by car, he says, launching into detailed directions of a landscape that is all but devoid of landmarks. My boss meanwhile stands bemused. “We have a big day tomorrow,” he tells me. I get it. He suggests we meet in the lobby at 8:00 a.m. where a full continental breakfast buffet will be ready.
I had asked for a smoking room and that put me on the sixth floor. It had been smoked in alright – by a pipe-smoker no doubt. The fan is on full-tilt but it’s impossible to miss. As hotel rooms go, this is certainly one of the nicest ones I have seen. Two-seater couch with coffee table. 24-inch cable TV. A desk with a cat-5 hook-up and free high-speed internet connection. And the bed is king-sized. It has no less than seven pillows – five feathery guys lined-up sideways against the headboard, and two more very broad ones leaning up against those. That oughtta do me.
The bathroom is equally well appointed. Wall-mounted hair-dryer. Huge expanse of counter-top. Something like six large towels, four small ones and four face-cloths. Even the iron in the hall closet is a souped-up number that looks vaguely Star Trekkish.
I turn on the TV but I'm too late for the Daily Show (it is on an hour early in Central), so I make due with Bill Mahr. I haul out the laptop and email home, where it’s nearly 1:00 in the morning and too late to call. I check the net, but don’t get much past reading about the Habs’ spectacular road win over the Rangers before turning in.
The next morning, my wake-up call comes at 7:00 a.m. There is a little coffee-maker with all the required pouches (including “whitener” – ick) on the bathroom counter, but I’ll wait for a real coffee. I notice someone has thoughtfully slipped a USA Today under my door. I read about reaction to the Alito nomination. Apparently he’s a lean, mean Right-wing machine of conservative judicial fortitude, and the Christian Right is all agush over him. That should shut everybody up about the Libby indictment and related fallout – for a day at least.
I spend too long with the paper – even though you could probably read the whole thing front-to-back in less than half an hour. I rush through ironing a shirt and pants, then get on with the morning routine that my old Newfie friend Paul MacInnis immortalized for me as the three S’s: "Shit, Shave and Shower."
I present myself in the lobby at 8:00 a.m. sharp and,... uh-oh. I know that look. It's that unmistakable look that a boss wears on his face when he's trying to look very professional despite being annoyed as hell. Seems boss-man has had his breakfast already and was hoping I'd be down a bit early. Now I see that when he said we’d meet in the lobby at eight o’clock, he meant ready to leave at eight o’clock.
He graciously allows me to cobble together a sort-of biscuit and leathery egg and ham thing from the unremarkable buffet. I notice his right leg bouncing up and down on the toe of his foot as he watches the wide-screen TV (forever tuned to CNN) that looks down authoritatively over the lounge area. I can tell he isn’t actually paying attention to it; his mind is busily sorting through how I have fucked with his whole day by being a moron who can’t get up on time and now we both will look like lazy-asses, waltzing into the office at a leisurely 8:20 or so. At least I imagine that’s what he’s thinking.
There is brewed coffee like we used to get from the cart service at Concordia University all those years ago – crappy, but caffeinated, dammit. I hastily chomp down my biscuit thing and take the coffee to go. No time to brush my teeth. The office is apparently close-by and we’ll get there for 8:20 probably, but now I feel like we’ve started off badly. At least the sun is out.
In Montreal I'd need a jacket and a sweater and a scarf and gloves... But in Dallas it's mild enough in the bright sun for us to eschew our coats. No clouds. Light breeze. Flowers in full bloom. Yeah, I'll take it.
- 30 -
Next up: Meeting your Texan co-workers at the Company HQ.
(Link to Part 1).
(Link to Part 2).
Part 3 - Hotel life
With the flight from Montreal to Dallas behind us, my boss and I are anxious to get to our hotel near the head-office in the suburbs. He’s careful to avoid the toll roads and is surprisingly not sure of where he’s going, considering he’s driven this milk-run at least twice already this year. Our route has been mapped out for us, courtesy of the rental car agent. We head north; on a road that bisects the airport. It’s strangely disconcerting to see a DC-10 crossing the overpass right-to-left above us.
We manage not to get lost. There is scarcely another car on the road, even though it isn't even 11:00 p.m. That could explain why there seems to be so much road - all of it in excellent condition - and seemingly little traffic to warrant it all (at least, compared to Montreal). This is fortunate since the exits pop up with little notice. In that regard, Texas and Quebec have something in common. But at least Texans know how to build a proper road. Ours are worse than horrible. There is also evidence around us of ample more highway construction going on. This area must be booming.
The hotel itself is quite nice. Six storeys and a plush, wood-finished lobby complete with fireplace. I gobble some orange-and-black candied popcorn from a bowl on the desk. It’s the only hint I’ve seen all day that it is Hallowe’en. We sign-in for our separate rooms and the clerk asks if we need anything. I inquire about the hotel bar. There is none, the clerk says. Oh. There is a place still open about ten minutes away by car, he says, launching into detailed directions of a landscape that is all but devoid of landmarks. My boss meanwhile stands bemused. “We have a big day tomorrow,” he tells me. I get it. He suggests we meet in the lobby at 8:00 a.m. where a full continental breakfast buffet will be ready.
I had asked for a smoking room and that put me on the sixth floor. It had been smoked in alright – by a pipe-smoker no doubt. The fan is on full-tilt but it’s impossible to miss. As hotel rooms go, this is certainly one of the nicest ones I have seen. Two-seater couch with coffee table. 24-inch cable TV. A desk with a cat-5 hook-up and free high-speed internet connection. And the bed is king-sized. It has no less than seven pillows – five feathery guys lined-up sideways against the headboard, and two more very broad ones leaning up against those. That oughtta do me.
The bathroom is equally well appointed. Wall-mounted hair-dryer. Huge expanse of counter-top. Something like six large towels, four small ones and four face-cloths. Even the iron in the hall closet is a souped-up number that looks vaguely Star Trekkish.
I turn on the TV but I'm too late for the Daily Show (it is on an hour early in Central), so I make due with Bill Mahr. I haul out the laptop and email home, where it’s nearly 1:00 in the morning and too late to call. I check the net, but don’t get much past reading about the Habs’ spectacular road win over the Rangers before turning in.
The next morning, my wake-up call comes at 7:00 a.m. There is a little coffee-maker with all the required pouches (including “whitener” – ick) on the bathroom counter, but I’ll wait for a real coffee. I notice someone has thoughtfully slipped a USA Today under my door. I read about reaction to the Alito nomination. Apparently he’s a lean, mean Right-wing machine of conservative judicial fortitude, and the Christian Right is all agush over him. That should shut everybody up about the Libby indictment and related fallout – for a day at least.
I spend too long with the paper – even though you could probably read the whole thing front-to-back in less than half an hour. I rush through ironing a shirt and pants, then get on with the morning routine that my old Newfie friend Paul MacInnis immortalized for me as the three S’s: "Shit, Shave and Shower."
I present myself in the lobby at 8:00 a.m. sharp and,... uh-oh. I know that look. It's that unmistakable look that a boss wears on his face when he's trying to look very professional despite being annoyed as hell. Seems boss-man has had his breakfast already and was hoping I'd be down a bit early. Now I see that when he said we’d meet in the lobby at eight o’clock, he meant ready to leave at eight o’clock.
He graciously allows me to cobble together a sort-of biscuit and leathery egg and ham thing from the unremarkable buffet. I notice his right leg bouncing up and down on the toe of his foot as he watches the wide-screen TV (forever tuned to CNN) that looks down authoritatively over the lounge area. I can tell he isn’t actually paying attention to it; his mind is busily sorting through how I have fucked with his whole day by being a moron who can’t get up on time and now we both will look like lazy-asses, waltzing into the office at a leisurely 8:20 or so. At least I imagine that’s what he’s thinking.
There is brewed coffee like we used to get from the cart service at Concordia University all those years ago – crappy, but caffeinated, dammit. I hastily chomp down my biscuit thing and take the coffee to go. No time to brush my teeth. The office is apparently close-by and we’ll get there for 8:20 probably, but now I feel like we’ve started off badly. At least the sun is out.
In Montreal I'd need a jacket and a sweater and a scarf and gloves... But in Dallas it's mild enough in the bright sun for us to eschew our coats. No clouds. Light breeze. Flowers in full bloom. Yeah, I'll take it.
- 30 -
Next up: Meeting your Texan co-workers at the Company HQ.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Tag me with a spoon...
This is one of those strange blogger habits. It seems to be called a meme. Timmy the G (of Voice in the Wilderness fame) got tagged and has sent it on to me and four others. It seems one has to dig up their 23rd-ever blog post, and reprint its fifth sentence.
All fine and well as long as your 23rd-ever post isn't a bloody song, which of course has no periods in it, and hence, no fifth sentence. So the fifth line of the song then? For what it's worth:
Golf Shoes and your
Well that was exciting, wasn't it? Not quite as effective when taken out of context. Considering how dismal that was, I suppose the least I can do now is to pass the torch and tag five other unlucky souls. So here goes:
John of John Murney's Blog
Mark at Section 15
Cathie from Canada
The Gazetteer
Ivan at Creative Writing
I hope you can all come up with something better than my anti-climactic offering. Git to 'er now.
- 30 -
All fine and well as long as your 23rd-ever post isn't a bloody song, which of course has no periods in it, and hence, no fifth sentence. So the fifth line of the song then? For what it's worth:
Golf Shoes and your
Well that was exciting, wasn't it? Not quite as effective when taken out of context. Considering how dismal that was, I suppose the least I can do now is to pass the torch and tag five other unlucky souls. So here goes:
John of John Murney's Blog
Mark at Section 15
Cathie from Canada
The Gazetteer
Ivan at Creative Writing
I hope you can all come up with something better than my anti-climactic offering. Git to 'er now.
- 30 -
Monday, November 07, 2005
Notes from my Trip to Texas (2nd in a series)
I was sent down on a business trip last week to the head office in a Dallas suburb. These are some random thoughts on the Lone Star state, and the state of George W. Bush's America from a Canadian visitor's viewpoint
(Link to Part 1).
Part 2 - Scott, meet Texas; Texas... Texas, are you awake?
Oct. 31/05, mid afternoon. After arriving at Pierre Elliot Trudeau airport more than three hours early to find exactly no one in queue; after charging briskly through the United States Homeland Security checkpoint with little hassle; after being metal-detected in under five minutes,... we are informed that, due to thunderstorm activity in Dallas, our plane will board about an hour late.
So now we have nearly three hours to kill, but it's impossible for me to go outside for another cigarette before take-off. Must psyche-up for a long painful wait. I'm travelling with my boss, who is younger than I, but very ambitious - and good at the office politics game. He has made this trip at least four times before. He has a good 10 inches or so on me, making us a true Mutt & Jeff team.
I scan at the news-stands and kiosks for a Sudoku book but can't find one anywhere, so I sit opposite my boss and take out the Sunday NY Times crossword I've been saving. Boss-man has decided to haul out his laptop. He can't get a connection to VPN into the office so he begins showing me countless digital pictures of his very cute little boy. I stupidly have none with me of my son, Francis. Well, there is that cropped photo I keep in my wallet, but he's seen that.
It's surprising how little of a bond I have with my boss, considering our first-borns arrived two days apart in May of last year. I guess we're rather different people (he is certainly wealthier than I). Also, I am wary of him. He hasn't always been honest with me; and having worked with him for four years, I always assume everything he says has an ulterior motive. He has never screwed me over, but those who get in his cross-hairs always seem to find themselves fired or demoted before very long. At the same time, he's a loving and proud family man.
"What do you think of that one?" he asks, beaming as he points to his son in a purple dragon costume.
"Ah, what a cutey," I fawn.
"How about this?"
"Wow. He has such long, thick hair. Francis still has only wisps."
We were both disappointed to be missing Hallowe'en with our little guys. But the Company doesn't give a shit. There is no saying no when Dallas beckons. For my boss, it sometimes happens on a day's notice. For me, never before. In fact, in a few hours, Texas will overtake Marietta, Ohio as the furthest from Quebec that I have ever ventured (and I was only seven or eight at the time. My first-hand accounts of America are entirely based on car trips to New England.) In Canada, I have been as far west as Hamilton, as far north as the Gaspe, and as far east as Halifax. A true homer.
Finally we are able to board. An American Airlines McDonnell Douglas MD-80 jet. Looks solid enough. Find our seats. Boss gets window. I get aisle. There is blessedly a vacant seat between us. Not much window viewable from my vantage point. No matter, it's pitch-black out already. Sit. Wait. Buckle up. Taxi. Take-off. Turbulence. $3 meal-box anyone? Not a one sold. Drink cart. Diet Pepsi. Crossword very difficult. Drag out Lloyd Axworthy book. Realize how repetitive, self-congratulatory and boring his prose can be. Nah, probably just can't concentrate without nicotine. More turbulence. Get laptop out (on loan from the Company) and play Free Cell. Damn Touchpad adds to challenge. Stewardess hands me two teeny-weeny cornchip bags, with "Great for Dipping!" printed on them, but of course, no dip. Drink cart again. Crossword still very difficult. Never-ending turbulence. Wrestle with rest room. Lose. Bang elbow wiping up. Ow. Wash hands, sort of. Return to seat. Doze off.
We land after circling the airport a few times, dipping a bit on each pass. Then we sit idle for 20 minutes as there is a plane sitting at our intended gate. Lazy dead-beat plane! Our plane finally loses patience, backs up, and goes to another gate. My boss and I both have only our carry-on bags, so we get out fast. Boss knows the way so I follow. Outside and the air is cool. I catch a glimpse of a cyclindrical, free-standing ashtray that would dwarf R2-D2 and manage to spark a cigarette while carrying two bags and not losing a step.
Before I have a chance to take a third haul on my first cigarette in seven hours, the airport bus pulls up. It will take us to the car rental desks at the southern end of the five mile-long airport (DFW airport takes up more land mass than Manhattan, they're proud to tell you.) It's past 10 pm CST and my ex-smoker boss is in no mood to wait for the next bus while I de-crave in front of him. I go to stamp my cigarette out on the ground but there isn't a speck of dirt or previous smokers' butts or even a wayward leaf in sight. Nothing but pristine concrete and pavement, unweathered by snow, sand or salt like in Montreal.
I butt-out awkwardly in the R2D2's flattened head and board the bus, which has matted grey carpetting on seemingly all its interior surfaces. No one asks for a fare or ticket; what would be the point? There are few other passengers, all looking as non-plussed as we do, I am sure. After a few minutes, we see the Avis sign and de-bus.
I was not allotted a rental car by the Company, so I stand idly by like Teller to my boss's Penn while he picks out his car of choice. He is the boss, after all, and besides, I am only staying three days, while he's here for nine. Can't argue with that. Nevertheless, it turns out badly for both of us since it means he has to ferry me around everywhere (pedestrians might as well be illegal in Texas it seems) and I have to go whenever and wherever he goes. My boss picks out a burgundy Toyota sedan and I settle in on the passenger side with the map out, feeling somewhat like Gromit to my boss's Wallace. There is no smoking allowed in the car.
Oh, it's going to be a great three days.
- 30 -
Next up: Big Texas roads, big Texas toilet stalls, hotel-pillow-mania (Texas-style), and the Company HQ.
(Link to Part 1).
Part 2 - Scott, meet Texas; Texas... Texas, are you awake?
Oct. 31/05, mid afternoon. After arriving at Pierre Elliot Trudeau airport more than three hours early to find exactly no one in queue; after charging briskly through the United States Homeland Security checkpoint with little hassle; after being metal-detected in under five minutes,... we are informed that, due to thunderstorm activity in Dallas, our plane will board about an hour late.
So now we have nearly three hours to kill, but it's impossible for me to go outside for another cigarette before take-off. Must psyche-up for a long painful wait. I'm travelling with my boss, who is younger than I, but very ambitious - and good at the office politics game. He has made this trip at least four times before. He has a good 10 inches or so on me, making us a true Mutt & Jeff team.
I scan at the news-stands and kiosks for a Sudoku book but can't find one anywhere, so I sit opposite my boss and take out the Sunday NY Times crossword I've been saving. Boss-man has decided to haul out his laptop. He can't get a connection to VPN into the office so he begins showing me countless digital pictures of his very cute little boy. I stupidly have none with me of my son, Francis. Well, there is that cropped photo I keep in my wallet, but he's seen that.
It's surprising how little of a bond I have with my boss, considering our first-borns arrived two days apart in May of last year. I guess we're rather different people (he is certainly wealthier than I). Also, I am wary of him. He hasn't always been honest with me; and having worked with him for four years, I always assume everything he says has an ulterior motive. He has never screwed me over, but those who get in his cross-hairs always seem to find themselves fired or demoted before very long. At the same time, he's a loving and proud family man.
"What do you think of that one?" he asks, beaming as he points to his son in a purple dragon costume.
"Ah, what a cutey," I fawn.
"How about this?"
"Wow. He has such long, thick hair. Francis still has only wisps."
We were both disappointed to be missing Hallowe'en with our little guys. But the Company doesn't give a shit. There is no saying no when Dallas beckons. For my boss, it sometimes happens on a day's notice. For me, never before. In fact, in a few hours, Texas will overtake Marietta, Ohio as the furthest from Quebec that I have ever ventured (and I was only seven or eight at the time. My first-hand accounts of America are entirely based on car trips to New England.) In Canada, I have been as far west as Hamilton, as far north as the Gaspe, and as far east as Halifax. A true homer.
Finally we are able to board. An American Airlines McDonnell Douglas MD-80 jet. Looks solid enough. Find our seats. Boss gets window. I get aisle. There is blessedly a vacant seat between us. Not much window viewable from my vantage point. No matter, it's pitch-black out already. Sit. Wait. Buckle up. Taxi. Take-off. Turbulence. $3 meal-box anyone? Not a one sold. Drink cart. Diet Pepsi. Crossword very difficult. Drag out Lloyd Axworthy book. Realize how repetitive, self-congratulatory and boring his prose can be. Nah, probably just can't concentrate without nicotine. More turbulence. Get laptop out (on loan from the Company) and play Free Cell. Damn Touchpad adds to challenge. Stewardess hands me two teeny-weeny cornchip bags, with "Great for Dipping!" printed on them, but of course, no dip. Drink cart again. Crossword still very difficult. Never-ending turbulence. Wrestle with rest room. Lose. Bang elbow wiping up. Ow. Wash hands, sort of. Return to seat. Doze off.
We land after circling the airport a few times, dipping a bit on each pass. Then we sit idle for 20 minutes as there is a plane sitting at our intended gate. Lazy dead-beat plane! Our plane finally loses patience, backs up, and goes to another gate. My boss and I both have only our carry-on bags, so we get out fast. Boss knows the way so I follow. Outside and the air is cool. I catch a glimpse of a cyclindrical, free-standing ashtray that would dwarf R2-D2 and manage to spark a cigarette while carrying two bags and not losing a step.
Before I have a chance to take a third haul on my first cigarette in seven hours, the airport bus pulls up. It will take us to the car rental desks at the southern end of the five mile-long airport (DFW airport takes up more land mass than Manhattan, they're proud to tell you.) It's past 10 pm CST and my ex-smoker boss is in no mood to wait for the next bus while I de-crave in front of him. I go to stamp my cigarette out on the ground but there isn't a speck of dirt or previous smokers' butts or even a wayward leaf in sight. Nothing but pristine concrete and pavement, unweathered by snow, sand or salt like in Montreal.
I butt-out awkwardly in the R2D2's flattened head and board the bus, which has matted grey carpetting on seemingly all its interior surfaces. No one asks for a fare or ticket; what would be the point? There are few other passengers, all looking as non-plussed as we do, I am sure. After a few minutes, we see the Avis sign and de-bus.
I was not allotted a rental car by the Company, so I stand idly by like Teller to my boss's Penn while he picks out his car of choice. He is the boss, after all, and besides, I am only staying three days, while he's here for nine. Can't argue with that. Nevertheless, it turns out badly for both of us since it means he has to ferry me around everywhere (pedestrians might as well be illegal in Texas it seems) and I have to go whenever and wherever he goes. My boss picks out a burgundy Toyota sedan and I settle in on the passenger side with the map out, feeling somewhat like Gromit to my boss's Wallace. There is no smoking allowed in the car.
Oh, it's going to be a great three days.
- 30 -
Next up: Big Texas roads, big Texas toilet stalls, hotel-pillow-mania (Texas-style), and the Company HQ.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Notes from my Trip to Texas (1st in a series)
I was sent down on a business trip this week to the head office in a Dallas suburb (my employer shall remain nameless here). It's a company that deals in cutting-edge Point of Sale (POS) technology for the world of retail. My job is to write process documentation for a helpdesk here in Montreal, and this trip was about me giving an assist to someone hired to design a similar structure for their larger helpdesk there. It was my first visit south of the border in five years or so. These are some random thoughts on the Lone Star state, and the state of George W. Bush's America from a Canadian visitor's viewpoint:
Part 1 - Getting past the Dept. of Homeland Security:
The official at P.E. Trudeau Airport was my first contact with an American on my trip. I think she was just returning from lunch as she got in her box and smiled me over to tell her why the fuck she should let the likes of me into her country.
"Where's your passport?" she asked when I presented my official english copy Quebec Birth Certificate and my driver's license.
"I don't have one," I said.
"You should get one," she lectured.
"I understood that it isn't necessary," I said.
"Not yet, but it will be December 12th," she said.
"Not if Frank McKenna's lobbying is effective, and anyway, today is October 31st and therefore, you have no right to act like having a passport is in any way necessary you smug pencil-pushing ignoramous," I smartly refrained from saying in the ensuing pause while she typed away and looked vacantly at her screen.
"Have you ever been arrested?" she asked in the way you would ask a person if they've ever tried sushi. "No," I said (accurately), trying not to skip a beat or sound anything but amicable.
Then we got to the part about the reason for my trip. Business. And what did I need to do there that couldn't be done here in Canada? (I had been waiting for this part - my boss had even prepped me. Apparently, if you make the mistake of using the word "consultant" at any time, this raises some flag with them and they make you sit in a room and wait for other officials to do more grilling. "So just say that you're going to be sharing best-business practices," my boss had coached me.) "I'm going to be sharing best-business practices," I said by rote. This seemed to placate her, as the questions stopped.
After about 20 more seconds of again typing and looking vacantly at her screen, she turned to make her pronouncement. As she spoke, her voice trailed with the sort of resignation that suggested she only gets bonuses if she finds a potential terrorist to be scooped up to some place like Syria for their sweet brand of year-long "questioning"; and sadly, I was evidently not helping bring that bonus so far today. "Go ahead."
"Yes'm. Thank you kindly ma'am. Bless you ma'am," I resisted saying sardonically as I left. If I had a cap I could clutch in my hands sheepishly, who knows if I would've been able to keep my sarcasm in check.
- 30 -
Next up: landing at 9:30 p.m. on Hallowe'en at DFW, the world's third-largest airport.
Part 1 - Getting past the Dept. of Homeland Security:
The official at P.E. Trudeau Airport was my first contact with an American on my trip. I think she was just returning from lunch as she got in her box and smiled me over to tell her why the fuck she should let the likes of me into her country.
"Where's your passport?" she asked when I presented my official english copy Quebec Birth Certificate and my driver's license.
"I don't have one," I said.
"You should get one," she lectured.
"I understood that it isn't necessary," I said.
"Not yet, but it will be December 12th," she said.
"Not if Frank McKenna's lobbying is effective, and anyway, today is October 31st and therefore, you have no right to act like having a passport is in any way necessary you smug pencil-pushing ignoramous," I smartly refrained from saying in the ensuing pause while she typed away and looked vacantly at her screen.
"Have you ever been arrested?" she asked in the way you would ask a person if they've ever tried sushi. "No," I said (accurately), trying not to skip a beat or sound anything but amicable.
Then we got to the part about the reason for my trip. Business. And what did I need to do there that couldn't be done here in Canada? (I had been waiting for this part - my boss had even prepped me. Apparently, if you make the mistake of using the word "consultant" at any time, this raises some flag with them and they make you sit in a room and wait for other officials to do more grilling. "So just say that you're going to be sharing best-business practices," my boss had coached me.) "I'm going to be sharing best-business practices," I said by rote. This seemed to placate her, as the questions stopped.
After about 20 more seconds of again typing and looking vacantly at her screen, she turned to make her pronouncement. As she spoke, her voice trailed with the sort of resignation that suggested she only gets bonuses if she finds a potential terrorist to be scooped up to some place like Syria for their sweet brand of year-long "questioning"; and sadly, I was evidently not helping bring that bonus so far today. "Go ahead."
"Yes'm. Thank you kindly ma'am. Bless you ma'am," I resisted saying sardonically as I left. If I had a cap I could clutch in my hands sheepishly, who knows if I would've been able to keep my sarcasm in check.
- 30 -
Next up: landing at 9:30 p.m. on Hallowe'en at DFW, the world's third-largest airport.
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