NHL Trade Deadline: Keep the Action Off the Ice

Darryl Sutter just made a very astute point. The NHL shouldn't schedule games on the same day as the trade deadline.

As much fun as we have, cackling with glee and rubbing our hands as players furiously change hands, we can't forget that these players are only human. They have wives, children, homes, and lives outside of their careers. What we see as a game is their whole world.

While we speculate about odds and improvements, these men are placing tearful calls to their families, packing their bags, and suddenly trying to rearrange their professional and personal lives.

They leave the friends and teammates they know well to enter what may have formally been the enemy's dressing room.

Maybe you're a gritty player on a Cup contending team who's been traded for a little more firepower. Suddenly, your dreams of hoisting that Cup have never seemed farther out of reach. Would your head be in the game the night you heard the news?

Perhaps you’re not traded. However, your actions and decisions leading up to the deadline have been under so much scrutiny that it has turned fans against you.

The dressing room atmosphere in many places will be tense tonight, to say the least. What do you do when guys are suddenly missing from your lineup?

The traded players don't always show up overnight. They have to finish paperwork, visas, cross borders, etc. You don't just throw someone on the ice without a practice at least.

Sutter, in a press conference just after the 3:00 PM EST deadline, said that no games should be played today. And he's right.

We have enough to entertain us on deadline day. Give the boys a rest and let them piece their lives back together.

Federal Budget + NHL trade deadline = second Christmas!

Perhaps I'm just odd, but today is one of the most exciting days of the year. For me, anyway.

It's not my birthday or any normal holiday. Most people probably won't even notice the reason I'm excited. That's because we all live in our own little personal bubbles, oblivious to the world around us. But that is a whole other blog.

Today, the minority Conservative government lays out its budget. Who would have thought that a minority government would last this long? Well, it shouldn't be that surprising. After all, there really is no official opposition. It's not technically a minority government, because the Liberals don't want to force an election. The ruling party may only have a minority, but they act like there is no one else in the House.

What will that mean for today's budget? Not a lot. Mr. Flaherty has been downplaying and under promoting his plans. There shouldn't be anything to rock the boat. It's as if the Tories want to slide this budget in under the door of the House of Commons, then tip toe away to get on with the business of running the country.

The NDP will rant and rave (because that's what they are there to do) while the Bloc whine. And Stephane Dion will sit calmly in his seat, that same puzzled, pursed lip look he's been sporting since he was unexpectedly chosen as leader.

Hockey, on the other hand, has much more potential. After Ottawa's embarrassment yesterday at the hands of the Leafs, one might expect Glen Murray to go hunting.

The Leafs, who were the source of most of the trade deadline gossip in the past few weeks, (Forsberg excepted) will disappoint once again. Fletcher moved Wade Belak for a fifth round pick, but most of the players with value won't waive their ridiculous no-trade clauses. I don't expect much to happen there. The Leafs live to disappoint and underachieve.

Colorado has Forsberg. What will Atlanta, Vancouver, and Ottawa do? How about Philly? I can speculate about all kinds of things, but I'll tell you something that is certain. Wherever Marian Hossa ends up, I will still boo and hiss every time I see him. That's just how I roll.

What if we set up the House of Commons like the NHL? MPs would be paid based on performance, and hell yes there would be a salary cap. Enough people cross the floor on a regular basis that it's like NHL trades. However, you could also get rid of someone if you really wanted. "No, YOU guys take Belinda. We don't want her."

Most importantly, we could set up a playoff system leading up to the budget, the speech from the throne, and of course elections. The mediocre cabinet ministers relegated to the minors, ineffective backbenchers not allowed to run for re-election.

Actually, the systems have a lot of pre-existing parallels. It wouldn't take that much effort to change. However, the championship battle would have to be one-on-one. I want to have a say in who wears the PM on their jersey. It's about time we altered our election procedures so that Canadians can choose their damn captain.

BC Government practices financial punishment

Carole Taylor shouldn't have been dressed in green. She should have been outfitted in black PVC, four inch stilettos, whip in hand. With a BC Hydro representative standing at her side, singing the "hands in my pocket" tune.

British Columbia's so-called green budget made me mad. Not because it wasn't actually green (which it isn't) or that it ignored other issues (which it did). I was annoyed because it was VERY transparent to me what was really going on.

Two and a half cents a litre at the pump or on my home heating bill is nothing. Even the eventual increases to almost 8 cents a litre in 2012 won't really put a dent in my non-existent savings. Hey, I'm a BC resident-I already spend 70% of my income just to have a roof over my head. A few extra pennies really doesn't upset me.

What does upset me is this: under the new carbon tax, fossil based home heating fuels are "punished" while those who heat with electricity are not. Whoohoo, thinks the average consumer. I'll use electricity to heat my home. That way I'll avoid this sneaky tax.

The average BC resident is expected (without the proposed behaviour changes of the carbon tax) to increase their electricity consumption by 1.7% per year for the next three years. Currently, a normal household uses 11,000 kWh of electricity a year. In five years, it'll be up to 12, 000 kWh at that rate.

Well, here's where I have to hand it to the BC government. They are promoting the use of electricity as a green, sustainable alternative to fossil fuels. Use electricity! We make it from hydroelectric dams! It's as green as it can be!

This province, at its current rates of energy consumption, must buy 14.5 % of its electricity from outside its borders. Where does it come from? Alberta (hmmm, now there's a green province) and the US Northwest. Where does the Northwest generate most of its electricity? From the Columbia River. The same Columbia River upon which BC Hydro maintains 4 dams, only two of which have generating stations. The other two dams are part of a 1964 US treaty agreement for flood prevention and electricity generation in the US.

Yep. We build and maintain dams that hold store water, so that when US generating stations need more, we can give it to them. Then, we can buy back the electricity from them to serve our own needs.

BC Hydro currently has several projects underway (including the installation of another turbine at the Revelstoke Dam) which will, in total, add less than 1 GWh of energy to the total annual production. That's less than half a percent of increased production, not even meeting the modest projected consumption rates.

Bottom line: BC residents already consume more electricity than the province can produce at a profit. At a profit, you say? Sure. Because we sell or trade more than 1406 GWh annually to other markets. Between BC consumers and energy hungry neighbours, BC Hydro nets a tidy profit.

Well, apparently it isn't enough, because BC Hydro has proposed rate hikes that will see your electricity bill increase by 13% over the next two years.

So screw buying a hybrid to save yourself money. Buy a wind turbine, build your own dam, and get some solar panels, because BC Hydro has its eye on your wallet. Way to go, Campbell government, for fooling the general public into thinking they are doing the right thing while you rake in massive amounts of profits. Kudos!

Label This!

Why must we label and categorize everything in our society?

I don't want to be labelled. I want to be Abby. Don't call me a biologist, a musician, a crazy strung out blogging wacko. Those are things I do, not who I am.

There's a great scene in the movie Anger Management where Adam Sandler's character is asked to define who he is. Every time he answers, Jack Nicolson tells him he's telling him what he does, not who he is. Eventually Sandler flips out. He wants to give the right answer, but he doesn't know what is being asked of him.

I understand his confusion. To function in this world, we have to choose a label. Other people have to put us in a box in order to give us our place in the world.

I don't want to be in a box. Today, I might be a writer. Tomorrow, I may want to be a rock star. The next day, I might be a hermit, or the world's greatest lover. The problem is that we aren't open to changing our characterizations of others. Once you're in the box, you are supposed to stay there.

As I approach thirty, I am commonly asked questions so that others might label me. Am I married? No. Engaged? No. In a relationship? No. Have children? No. Ooooh. So you're one of those women who has "sacrificed" traditional family values for her career. Well, no. I don't really have a career to speak of. If a man comes along and love happens, then sure, you might be able to stick some of those labels on me. But that isn't who I am.

The more I think about labels, the more it bothers me. The ones that really bother me involve children. They don't know who they are yet, but we stick them with labels. That's the smart kid. That's a Muslim kid. That's a Jewish kid. That's a troublemaker. That's the athletic kid.

This labelling might help sort your internal filing system, but it also succeeds in limiting ourselves in our relationship with others. If you think of me as a musician, you may never ask me the sorts of questions to find out I love calculus. Yep. Calculus. And I might start thinking that the only face I can show to the world is the one attached to my label.

That's it. That's the main point. We get pushed into a box, and miss so much of ourselves and others that could be enjoyed, were we not weighed down by these labels.

So shake them off. The next time you're describing a person, think about the words you're tagging them with. Is that truly who that person is?

The Great Canadian Whine and Cheese Club

In the wine-sinks where Leafs fans and Canucks fans gather these days, a lot of whining, ranting and raving is going on. In one corner, there will be the trade talkers. Who should go? Who shall stay? Do we have a hope in hell of making the playoffs? (that would mostly be the Canuck fans; even the die-hard Leaf lovers are willing to concede now.)

Pounding the table for emphasis, they will pontificate on their choices. Should Vancouver get Sundin? What about Forsberg? What the hell is with Luongo?

Maybe they should call in a voodoo lady to break the jinx on their defense.

In the Toronto corner, among the littered bottles and peeled labels, you will find the cynics heralding the end of the world. Trade Sundin. Keep him. Get rid of Tucker, put him out to pasture, call up the kids, start over, tank the season, save the season.

Everyone has an opinion. All of them are asinine, and none are likely to happen before the trade deadline.

So my suggestion is this: combine the two teams. The Leafy Canucks. I’m sure there is a graphic artist somewhere that can come up with an uglier logo than the Canucks currently sport. Something fuzzy and cute to match the Olympics mascots.

The sad thing is, even with the two clubs combined, making the playoffs is still an uphill battle. I might as well grab a Crown on the rocks and take my place at the bar, bemoaning yet another year where the Cup stays south of the border.

Montreal fans and Ottawa fans may be to differ, but they’re in another establishment. Classier, up the street, but full of delusional smoke that is entirely too easy to choke on.

Driving

Driving in British Columbia is unlike driving in most other provinces.

I can say this objectively, having driven in most of the other provinces at some point in the last ten years, both winter and summer. Every place has its unique challenges, but for sheer natural obstacles, BC takes the cake.

This past week, I drove to Vancouver. Normally a six hour undertaking, I had to detour through the Fraser Canyon because avalanche danger (and avalanches) had closed the toll highway. Big deal, right?

Well, any time you hear the word "detour" in Toronto it may involve going a few blocks out of your way. This minor detour involves rerouting traffic over a precarious two lane, pothole-ridden highway clinging to the side of a mountain.

Throw in some fog, black ice, melting snow, slush, and angry truckers, and you get one heck of a road trip.

Normally, I enjoy driving. It is a creative time for me. The trip home over dry roads through the sunshine had me humming new songs after an influx of inspiration. (Despite the fact I felt, the entire way east, that I was headed in the wrong direction. But that's a whole other story.)

I like the mountains, and I love seeing my friends and family. I just wish I could have all that without the epic vehicular adventures.

I'd write something new, but I'm still giggling at the Shreddies.

Funniest Billboard

Someone is a marketing genius.

Today, after seven hours of mind numbing driving around closed highways, I came across a billboard.

"NEW! Diamond Shreddies!"

I'm still laughing about it.

Splish splash...

I wasn't in the greatest of moods today. Normally I would remedy that with some chocolate or my guitar, but neither of those were an option.

Solution number three? Jump in a puddle!

When was the last time you jumped in a puddle purposely? If you can't remember, then I shake my fist at you! There is nothing more childishly exhilarating than landing feet first in a big puddle of water. Particularly if you do so in close proximity to someone else.

Just make sure they aren't holding expensive electronic equipment.

Boom or Bust

As a Maritimer, I'm used to the ebb and flow of the boom and bust economy.

Boom! The mill opens. Boom! The mine opens! Boom! The weather is nice. Boom! We all have money to spend...until the season ends, but then we'll all have enough hours for EI and Boom! We get paid to do nothing.

Until Bust! The mill closes. Bust! The forest sector doesn't hire as many people. Bust! The mine closes. Bust! The EI runs out, and there are no jobs to be found.

Some people move, looking for work. That's why Fort McMurray is the second largest city in Newfoundland, as the joke goes. Many of us become cynical and pessimistic.

Having grown up in this type of month-to-month, hand-to-mouth environment has given me a skewed perspective of what a career actually is. My parents were relatively free from this cycle; however, my father worked in the construction industry, and his success was directly correlated to the boom/bust of other industries. Unemployed people don't build new houses.

I digress. The point of this is that we, as rural Canadians, now look at this cycle of boom and bust as the acceptable norm.

It isn't acceptable. It is absolutely insane. Why should we allow ourselves to think that these are the only career options available to us? Why are we dependent on resources we know are non-renewable, that we know will eventually run out?

My hometown is becoming a ghost town. More young people leave for the rich promises of Alberta. We remove ourselves from our family and community support systems, leaching our home region of is youth, vitality and talent, to chase a paycheque that offers more stability than we can find at home.

It's time to stop asking where we can go when we leave, and bring that hope, youth, and promise back to the land from which we came. Not just in the Maritimes, but in other provinces as well. What can we do to create gainful year round employment in boom or bust communities?

Stop waiting for the government or answers from above, and do it yourself. Why bother helping yourself, when it isn't your fault you're in this situation?

Because it isn't the government's responsibility to ensure your happiness. It is your task, and only your own. So stop whining, stop waiting, and try. If you fail, well, then you fail. But it's better than complaining.

Puzzling

I like doing Sudoku puzzles.

Apparently, I'm not the only one, as they are easy to come by. My friend recently asked me why I liked them. He couldn't understand the attraction.

That got me thinking about it, and when I think about something, I usually end up with a deep thought. This time, it's not so deep, but you'll get the point.

We live in a world that overloads us with everything. Sensory overload, stress overload, work overload, play overload, love overload.

Numbers are simple. Math is simple. There are no grey areas; it either is, or it isn't. Now, Sudoku isn't math, and you don't need math to do the puzzles. However, that affinity for simplicity that math evokes comes through in the puzzles.

I like doing these puzzles because, whether they are simple or difficult, I have to pay attention. They are one of the only ways I can block out all the assaults on my senses and focus my brain, if only momentarily, on one task.

They aren't exercise. They are rest. They are escape.

Yes, I'm odd. I like me that way. I also do math for fun.

Procrastination

Two days of nothingness reminded me how much I hate procrastinating.

The problem is, I'm just so good at it.

So far this week, I've put off paying some bills, answering my roommate's messages, watering my plants, grocery shopping, eating regular meals, sleeping, and answering my own messages.

Oops.

It's the February malaise, perhaps. The winter has me down. Normally I love winter, but I haven't been able to play in the snow.

That's what it is. We all need more time to simply play.

House calls?

Does House make house calls?

Because, damn. It's enough to make any girl teeter on the brink of death.

State of the Canadian Health Care System

I'd love to rant and rave about the health care system, but I'm not up to it.

I'm sick.

I had to go to the emergency room here in town (where there is no doctor actually at the hospital). I didn't get to see a doctor, but the nurse talked to one on the phone.

I also found out that the clinic here in town has been treating me for a chronic problem with strong antibiotics after I have continually tested negative for the condition. Last count, it was four rounds of unnecessary antibiotics. You would think that a doctor would go, "hmm...something's not right...."

So tomorrow, I get to go back to the clinic and demand to see a doctor. The ER nurse was furious they wouldn't let me make an appointment earlier in the day. She told me that if I couldn't get in to call her and she'd raise hell.

Pretty pathetic, I think.

I didn't set out to go to the emergency room. I tried to make an appointment to see my doctor at the clinic. For an acute problem, I was offered an appointment two weeks from today. Wow. Now that's service.

I said I couldn't wait that long, I was uncomfortable and getting worse. Second option? Go in tomorrow and see the "on call" doctor, who handles walk-in cases. If he or she has the time.

Well, that's what I have had to do for the last year and a half. That's why no one has checked my test results, or forwarded the information on to me that something is wrong. Every time I go in, I see a different doctor. They send me home with the obvious treatment, and don't follow up on the tests they order. I had a four month wait TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT for my yearly exam and tests, which they eventually cancelled on me anyway.

Seems I did have enough energy to rant, eh?

Where does that leave me? Worried, at home, in pain, and no closer to an answer. Worst of all, I have no idea when I'll have an answer.

Ten easy ways to freak out your co-workers

I’m not a fan of working in offices. Offices, regular hours, cubicles…all these things eat my soul.

Sometimes, though, I have to suck it up and work in an office. I decided that if I had to be there, the least I could do is spice things up a little.

1. Here are some of my tried and true office entertainment options:

2. Pick a word (or a co-worker’s name). Whenever you hear the word, cluck like a chicken. Loudly. Look confused if questioned about your actions.

3. Do cartwheels down the hall. A warning: only perform this if you are wearing pants and/or underwear. Make sure your shirt is tucked in. Unless, of course, you’re going for a dramatic effect.

4. Write for the entire day in yellow highlighter. Refuse to type anything.
Instead of talking, sing all your words, as off-key as you can, for the entire day.

5. Wear a cape. Insist that EMR is interfering with your superpowers, and try to throw all electric appliances out the window. Cry when you are stopped, and scream, “foiled again!”

6. Begin a conversation with an inanimate object in the office. Build a relationship over a few days, Have a loud and violent breakup.

7. Eat everything through a straw.

8. Install a backup beeper on your chair. Alternatively, make the beeping noise yourself.

9. Set every clock (including all computer clocks) ahead by a half hour. Watch hilarity ensue.

10. Buy duct tape. Lots of it. There are endless things you can do with it…tape down people’s stuff, tape down people, suspend things from the ceiling, wear it…

Okay, so my list is pretty lame. I don’t want to let you know the really good stuff, because it would spoil the rest of the winter for my co-workers. So use your own imagination, and stop copying me!

Virus and blood-a conversation in my head

Earlier today, I staged an imaginary conversation between a virus and a white blood cell. All in my head, mind you, so my co-workers didn't freak out.

And yes, biologists do this all the time. At least, I think they do. I can't account for all of them, but the ones I attended university with are just as batty as I. It's a great form of entertainment when faced with monotony.

I chose these two cells, in a setting of the human bloodstream, because of a rampant cold virus running amok in our office. It seemed appropriate.

Just a note about italics. If it's in italics, it's a sound effect, so make the noise inside your head. Or out loud, I really don't care.

Here's a sample of how it went:
Vroooom! (the virus cell goes speeding through a cellular stop sign, somewhere near the bronchial tubes)
White blood cell (whose name is Phil): Stop! Who are you?
Scrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeaaak. (virus skids to a stop).
Virus (whose name is Kayos): Sorry, sir. I didn't realize there was a stop sign there.
Phil (floating closer): I don't think I know you. You aren't from around here, are you?
Kayos: Uh, yeah I am. I just look a little different today. I've been feeling under the weather. There's a gang of bad guys around, gave me a rough time the other day up by the epiglottis.
Phil (giving him the suspicious eye): I'm certain I haven't seen you around before. Anyone around that can vouch for you?
Kayos (getting edgy): Uh, well, it's no so crowded today, I don't see any of my friends....(hits the gas and peels away through the plasma)
Phil: That little bastard! (takes off after him at high speed)...

There was much more, involving back up T cells, a breakdown scene, and deep philosophical discussion during the trial of the virus, "really, how can you punish me for doing that which I was created to do?" etc. etc.

Sometimes I wish I could stand watching the SuperBowl, so my Sundays wouldn't end up like this.

Happy Brown Hug Day

You will find no links to this holiday, because it exists only in my mind.

During my first year at Queen's, I became fast friends with another Maritimer who lived on my floor. Anyone who not only participates in my childish antics, but does me one better, is a friend for life.

I was the small town overachieving white kid; she was the Newfie Muslim. What a combination were we! Our best creation, which lives on to this day, is Brown Hug Day.

My friend explained to me that, when she was very small, she thought that "Groundhog Day" was Brown Hug Day. On this day, all the white people would show their appreciation for their brown friends and give them hugs.

Isn't that awesome? I thought so. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it. We started spreading the word amongst our friends and families. We hugged everyone we knew, and demanded hugs from others. Many people shook their heads at us; the vast majority, however, smiled.

No matter what colour you happen to be, take a moment today to say, "Happy Brown Hug Day" to someone you know. It doesn't even matter if they are brown. Random hugs are an endangered service in this impersonal world of ours.

It's corny, it's silly, and it's right up my alley.

Happy Brown Hug Day!

Don't like snow? Why are you here, then?

This one is short and sour instead of sweet.

Today, wandering around my not-so-redneck mountain town, I ran into two older gentlemen talking about the weather. Having nothing better to do, I eavesdropped as I cautiously followed them down the rutted, icy sidewalk.

First, they complained about the frigid temperatures of last week. Then, they started in on how much snow we had, how more was on the way, how the last two years were too much shoveling, etc. etc. I happen to know that both of them have lived in this town their entire lives, and have the financial means to move elsewhere.

If you don't like it, why don't you move? Obviously these men know that they live in a town that sits in one of the snowiest places on the planet.

I'm of the opinion (for today anyway) that if you don't like something, be constructive and use your energy to change it. Don't waste my time and your energy complaining about something you cannot change. The only thing you can change is your location.

That's all I have to say about that.