I Like Stainless Steel. Duh.

I loves the stainless steel. I guess you could say I collect it. After all, it's arguably the most recognizable feature of my favourite car, the DeLorean. Many people would argue the gullwing doors top the list of notable features. For me, it's a tough call.

Regardless, it was my love of stainless steel that first lead Suz and I to DCS in Lexington, Kentucky this June. And my love for stainless steel which, when the show ended, lured us west to St. Louis, Missouri.

The Gateway Arch is a magnificent stainless monument towering over the Mississippi. I had been excited to visit it for a long time. When I encountered all 630 feet of it in person I was stunned even further. Each stainless panel has its own unique characteristics. Reflection of light, colour, and even the names and graffiti scratched into the surfaces.

I couldn't get enough. And so I sat there, day after day taking photos, often alone because my poor wife couldn't handle my obsession. I snapped every angle I could possibly imagine, and a few I couldn't.

On a few occasions I was able to convince Suz to take my picture with the arch. The arch didn't mind. It enjoys its celebrity. You will notice I'm wearing the same blue shirt as featured in my recent post, The Rare DeLorean Spare. The shirt is not available for purchase, but inquiries are welcome.

What's more amazing is how modern the Arch is. Futuristic even. Completed in 1965 from plans developed in 1947 and utterly full of mathematics, the Arch makes the CN Tower look like a bulky pile of concrete crap. Which says a lot, because the CN Tower is waaaaaay neat-o.

Underground, I took more pictures, shocked at the magnitude of the vast museum, memorial, shops, theatre and trams. What was I expecting? A little elevator in the side of one of the legs? Embarrassingly, yes.

Looking back at my pictures, I know I didn't take enough. I know I'll go back one day. Maybe I'll have to go alone. Maybe it's better that I do. Did I tell you that I love stainless steel? Don't act like you didn't know.

Disney World Halloween Party 2009

My entire life I've been haunted by a memory which I couldn't place. I was in a round room, without doors or windows. Above me were paintings, or portraits of people. Slowly, the room began to stretch and the portraits with it, revealing that the people were sitting on things: barrels of TNT, tombstones, etc. Whenever I explained the memory to people, they all thought it was a mad hallucination.

When Suz and I arrived at the Magic Kingdom early Tuesday morning, we bee-lined it straight to Disney's Haunted Mansion. I had been dying to go on this ride for as long as I can possibly remember, pardon the pun. Sitting on a slight hill, the creeptacular mansion beckoned me. I was meant to be inside that house.

And you can all guess what happened.

I screamed (with bloodcurdling joy) when our group gathered in the round, windowless, doorless room. I had been here before and I didn't even know it. I had no idea I'd been to the Magic Kingdom before, but my parents confirmed that I was about 6 when I was there.

We rode it first at 9:30 a.m., followed by a second ride just after lunch. I was saving the final ride for the Disney Halloween bash known as Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party.

At five p.m. Suz and I changed into our costumes, which Disney encourages. The park was closing and when 7 p.m. hit, only those who purchased Halloween Party tickets were allowed to stay and trick-or-treat until midnight. Everyone else got the royal boot, and were not permitted to have any more fun as they were bussed back to their respective Disney resorts.

We re-entered the park in full costume. The train station, armed with hundreds of fog machines, had taken on an eerie transformation. As we walked down Main Street USA, decorated with scarecrows, jack-o-lanterns and other 'ween paraphernalia, I was greeted regularly with variations of "Hey Doc!" My homemade Doc Brown costume was a tremendous hit. Even Disney employees were coming up to me to comment on my handiwork.

After a few guests stopped me and asked if they could take my picture, my Doc Brown costume caught the eye of a Disney employee in one of the parades. The stilt-walking employee stopped in the middle of the street, waving and calling to me emphatically. Suz snapped his picture and I gave him a Martini style thumbs up before he ran back to his position. I'll have to remind myself to thank Christopher Lloyd for all the attention!

Suz and I spent the night trick-or-treating through the park and hopping on the odd ride. (Wait times were usually 5 minutes or less!) It was just as exciting to talk to the people who loved Doc Brown as it was to see the vast, spooky changes made to the park after sunset. It's truly incredible how the Disney engineers use flood lights and ultraviolet lights to change the appearance of nearly every major building. Most notable is Cinderella's castle, which is transformed, essentially, into a foreboding >Castle Dracula!

Around 11 p.m. we sat in the doom buggies for our third and final trip through the Haunted Mansion, which is hands-down the most phenomenal and engrossing ride in the park. In the end I was so dehydrated from the 95 degree weather, the costume, and hauling the heavy bags of candy around that I woke up with the worst "hangover" since last October, making it a true Halloween party.

And for those who want to know what they give out at the Disney Halloween Party 2009, we had really decent stuff: Hershey bars, O'Henry, Three Musketeers, Nestle Crunch, Reese Peanut Butter Cups, 100 Grand bars, Necco wafers, Bottle Caps, Kraft caramels, Laffy Taffy, Airheads, Bit o' Honey, Tootsie Rolls, Tootsie Pops, Lollipops, Giant Now & Later, Atkinson Peanut Butter Bars, SweetTarts, Starburst, Dumdums, Sassy Sours and raisin boxes.

Dirty Disney

While perusing the local One Dollar Emporium, something dirty caught my eye. The vulgar glimspe I caught in aisle three jarred me at first. I had to go back for a better look and make sure that what I saw was in fact what I saw.

A certain large G-rated business has gotten into trouble before. They are supposed to be a family-friendly, wholesome corporation. But a corporation made up of people. And humans, by nature, are flawed. People make mistakes. This was one of them.

What I saw at that moment kind of dismayed me - the word Disney. Here I was staring at a tiny penis while Hannah Montana, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, stared back at me. I honestly could not figure it out. I called Suz over, hoping she could shed some light on the Disney penis mystery. After she screamed in disbelief, we read the package together:

"Guitar & Microphone Shapes!"

Ah-ha! It was supposed to be a microphone. We flipped the package over and found what the gummy guitar and microphone were really supposed to look like.

So, what offended us the most about the whole package? Was it the penis shape? The penis colour? The Hannah Montana staring at us with mouth agape? Perhaps it was a combination of the above. If we knew it were directed towards a more mature crowd, maybe we would be giggling.

We asked ourselves what the biggest mistake was; the shape, the colour or both. Why this colour? Who approved it? Why this shape? Is that really what a mic looks like? I suppose the thought of an eight-year old girl putting a penis er... microphone into her mouth just didn't sit well with us. And we wondered if anyone else had this same complaint.

And now, with that out of the way, Suz and I are off to Florida for two whole entire weeks of sand, the gulf, swimming and... yep, you guessed it, 3 and a half fun-filled days at Disney World, the happiest place on earth!

McFly Motorsports

Vacations are neither fun nor relaxing when one spends the entire time driving. I present for your consideration the following.

First, there is the driving to your destination and the long wait sitting in your sweltering car at the U.S.-Canada border. Then, once you arrive, there's the drive all around town looking for your hotel and a nice, rat-free place to eat and perhaps relieve one's bowels. Finally, there's that long, 6-hour trip back home. Yes, driving can utterly suck the fun out of a vacation.

With one exception.

Returning home from Cedar Point, Suz and I made a pit-stop in Kent, Ohio. Nestled amongst other shops in an industrial strip sat an oasis of awesomnity: McFly Motorsports.

The owner/proprietor, Josh, who builds high performance engines for DeLoreans, was expecting me. I spoke to him earlier and was stopping by to pick up a part for my DMC-12. When we arrived, Josh welcomed us with open arms... and an offer I couldn't refuse.

The offer? To drive a high-performance, modified DeLorean.

Now when I say modified, I'm not talking a stinking little K&N air filter that adds 1 horsepower. (Okay, it's got that too) But I mean headers, exhaust, ignition and cams. And this was the "mild" performance upgrade offered by Josh.

This particular setup was worth about 70 extra horsepower. And if you know DeLoreans, that means a healthy output of about 200 hp. It was dynoed at 162 hp at the wheels and torque levels jumped almost equally. This much power in a reasonably light 2700-lb DeLorean translated to a very exciting driving experience.

I eagerly jumped in the driver's seat while Josh hopped in the other side. We pulled our doors closed and headed off into the countryside. This D was also lowered 2 inches with an Eibach spring set, seen here, specifically designed for the stainless wonder. I noticed immediately how much easier the car was to drive, and how much more civilized the handling was.

Acceleration was definitely brisk, despite the fact I couldn't bring myself to mash the pedal to the floor. And part of that reason was the sound of the exhaust. I'm not going to tiptoe around it. The stainless DMCH Stage I exhaust, seen here, was loud. According to Josh, the sound reverberates within the headers and can't really be muffled. It was too much for me, and takes away from the car's Euro roots. However, I can imagine many an owner out there revelling in the burbling, muscle-car sound.

We spent about 90 minutes visiting Josh at his fledgling company. But I can tell from the quality of his work and the kindness of his manner that he is going to be a staple of the DeLorean community for a long time to come.

McFlyMotorsports.com

Signature: A Stand-Up Company

These days good customer service is what sets companies apart. After all, the quality of just about everything is nearly identical because let's face it, it's all made in China. So personal experience with a company is what makes the difference.

When it comes to companies that deal almost exclusively with "service", good customer service is what keeps them in business. And Signature Vacations is absolutely one of those companies.

After we were scammed in Mexico by moustachioed persons impersonating Signature Vacations representatives, Suz wrote a letter expressing our discontent and suggesting very strongly that Signature should have warned us.

It's only fair that the tour company should have announced to their passengers that tour representatives were not allowed in the airport. Consider that anywhere else in the world, travellers expect to meet their tour reps inside the airport.

Suz's letter explained in great detail the devious plot by the scoundrels, and how they were able to walk away with eighty-nine of our hard-earned U.S. style dollars. After some investigating and confirming, a Signature Vacations rep wrote back the following message:

----- Original Message -----
From: (content deleted)
To: martini@awesomeguy.ca
Sent: Saturday, March 14, 2009 1:21 PM
Subject: Gettin' hosed

Dear Mrs. Martini,

(content deleted)

The content should be treated as confidential and the recipient may not disclose this message or any attachment to anyone else without authorization.

It is true. I do not have permission to share the email with anyone. I do however, have every right to give everyone "the gist" of it.

Signature was "pleased" that we "took the time" to contact them regarding the ongoing scam. It seems as though they had been dealing with this for quite some time. They informed us of two very excellent things.

First, they would be processing a refund for us in the form of a cheque. And true to their word, a cheque arrived shortly afterwards for the full amount we were scammed out of, in U.S. dollars. A few key areas have been altered by yours truly so that the evil Adrian Torres, Scoundrel Extraordinaire, can't forge it.

Second, they said they had contacted Skyservice and told their pilots and crew to make an announcement on all subsequent flights to Mexico informing passengers that their tour reps are outside the airport.

This was vital for the protection of all tourists and was more important to us than the money. Again, they were true to their word. A co-worker who returned from a Skyservice vacation to Mexico not one week ago confirmed that the announcement was made on her flight.

Two Martini-thumbs up for Signature Vacations and for Skyservice. With a reaction like this, in an economy like this, they really deserve more than I can offer for taking action to protect their customers.

---------------
Update: Signature Vacations filed for bankruptcy. It's a shame good guys finish last.

Scammed In Mexico

Although I learned of the current dangers of Mexico nearly two months ago, the federal government of Canada has formally warned Canadians this week against travel there due to rising danger spawned by a failing economy. I'm not talking liquid bum type dangers here. No, Mexico is a country on the verge of collapse.

During our vacation, we were lucky that we didn't find ourselves running to the toilet with clenched cheeks, and more importantly, that we didn't encounter any violence. But it's hard to imagine bad things could happen in the tourist-heavy Mayan Riviera. After all, tourism dollars is easy money, and why chance disturbing that cash flow?

In fact, tourists, from Mexico's point of view, are loaded with cash - and it's their job to separate them from it. But instead of offering interesting or original souvenirs and mementos, many would rather pull a scam. And here's how one of those scams works:

With your luggage in hand, as you head towards the airport exit, you'll be on the lookout for reps from your travel company. But you won't find them, because they'll be arrested if they set foot inside the airport.

Somehow, the people inside the airport know exactly where you're going and impersonate employees from either your resort or your tour company, calling out, for example, "Signature Vacations, over here!"

As you approach, the friendly, well-dressed Mexicans will welcome you, pull out a map of the island, and proceed to show you where your resort is situated. They will continue, explaining where the best scuba diving and shopping is, and how much taxis cost. They will, in a nutshell, give you good advice and valuable information. And because they are inside the airport, untouched by security, you'll believe they are there to help you.

They'll ask if you are planning on visiting any ruins or renting a car. They will tell you this is the cheapest, easiest and even safest way to see the ruins, as they claim the taxi drivers race along roads at very dangerous speeds and charge far, far too much.

They will explain how they work in conjunction with the tourism board of Mexico and the government to offer tourists cheap rental cars and passes to the ruins in order to boost the economy. And it sounds perfectly reasonable.

They will then offer you various 'packages'. For example, ours consisted of a rental car for 2 days, 4 passes to the Tulum ruins, 4 ferry passes, 4 free breakfasts at the Sandos resort and a bottle of Tequila. The total price is quite consistent; it will likely be $89 US.

Once you hand over the cash (they don't accept credit cards) they will fill out an official-looking receipt and ask to see your driver's licences for the car rental. After they ask you to sign the receipt, they ask you to do something strange.

They'll tell you that outside the airport, the men yelling "Signature Vacations out here!" are their competitors. They'll fold up the receipt, hand it to you, and tell you to hide it. They'll ask that you do not let their competitors know the great price they gave you, because they'll be very angry that they did not make the sale.

If you actually read what you signed, you'll see that it's a timeshare scam. In order for you to receive the "gifts" that you paid $89 for, you must attend a 90 minute seminar/presentation on buying a timeshare at the Sandos resort. And if you do any research into this, you'll see it's a very "hard" sell, where you'll essentially be locked in a room until you've agreed to buy a timeshare.

If you're landing at the Cozumel airport, don't give money to anyone. And if you see Adrian Torres, give him a kick in the balls, and tell him Martini says hi.

Mexico: Good For Snorkelling... And Scams

Despite being scammed out of $89 thirty seconds after we entered the Cozumel airport, I had enough fun in Mexico to declare that I would like to go back some day.

Like lightning, Suz and I never like to hit the same place twice. Slowly but surely we are seeing more of the world as we visit a different country about once a year. With a shit-ass economy though, this was the year of the cheap vacation. And Mexico is pretty darn cheap.

I've become a little bored with resort-life. I sound like a snob eh? Sitting around drinking all day sounds great in theory, but, believe it or not, unlimited lime daquiris become boring after a while. Suz and I have been to Cuba, the Dominican, and Venezuela, and I've had my share of sitting around. This time, I wanted to DO something. And if there's one thing Mexico is good for, it's doin' stuff.

Okay, no, it's the beer. But if there are two things Mexico is good for, the other thing is doin' stuff. Oh wait... they make good Tequila too.

Of the stuff to be done in Mexico, sightseeing, in particular the ancient Mayan ruins, is obvious. Going on a rather cheap vacation, we were better able to afford some excursions. Feeling vulnerable after being scammed, we played it safe and booked our Tulum ruins excursion with our travel/vacation company.

Tulum was pretty radical. The crusty stone structures overlooking the surreal blue-green water were well-preserved and oozing with Kahlua, one of Mexico's most delicious exports. (Actually, it was the Duty Free at the airport that had all the Kahlua.)

We also visited "the world's largest aquarium", known as Xel-ha (pronounced Shell-ha). It is a natural waterpark consisting of a 22 km inlet with lagoons and caves where snorkelling is top-notch. As a bonus, the park was all-inclusive, so we didn't have to spend any extra for breakfast, lunch, or drinky-poos. Drunk snorkelling is highly recommended. No wait, I meant NOT recommended.

Being a fish lover, snorkelling was something I was really excited about. During our adventures in Xel-ha, and even off the coast of our resort, we spotted some really fantastic aquatic life. The mermaids were too fast to catch on film but some of the other stuff was just as interesting.

Using our Fuji underwater cameras (I picked mine up at Henry's for $11.99) we captured some of the typical Cozumel reef fish such as non-Mopar style Barracudas, stoplight parrotfish, cowfish, ocean triggerfish, needlefish and got bit by a school of palometas. I even chased down a stingray and snapped a really decent pic of him as he left me in his dust.

My only regret, and the reason I'd go back, is to Scuba-dive at the Palancar reef, which was five feet from our resort. My half-hour Scuba lesson in the pool combined with a few confidence-building lime daquiris and anyone would think I'm a divemaster. Who wants to go?!

Goodbye Canadian Winter

With record snowfall, below average temperatures and an un-insulated basement making our home feel as chilly as an igloo floating in the cold void of space, Suz and I are becoming a little tired of our un-typical Canadian winter.

Working on the basement was fun for a while, and kept my mind from the monotonous and daily grind. The daily grind, for you non-Canadians, consists of a) waking up, b) eating breakfast, c) shovelling for an hour, d) brushing off the car, e) scraping ice off the inside of the windshield, radio, and gauges f) working, g) brushing off the car and going home h) shovelling the nice wall the snowplow left while you are at work, i) eating, j) sleeping. Repeat for 4 months.

Personally, I kind of like i) and j). But they're hard to enjoy when you know that shovelling and scraping are just around the corner.

What makes winter worse is having to step over stiff, frozen hobos everywhere you go. Even worse than that is when your neighbours, during the full moon of a Canuck-style winter, turn into horrible asshole werewolves who park their cars in the middle of the road instead of their perfectly shovelled driveways. Now, I can understand parking in the road as the best option if the driveway was full of frozen hobos, but we live in a relatively hobo-free area. And the odd one you find blocking a doorway will usually move if you give him a poke with a stick.

Coming home from work is supposed to be the best part of the day. But not when your horrible ass-wolf neighbour has blocked the road by parking his Jetta directly beside another car. And this is precisely what happened earlier this week.

Leaving only enough room for a motorcycle to fit between, I blasted my horn for a good 17.2 minutes. Being completely ignored only made the horn-honking maniac in me even more honk-happy. By the time midnight rolled around, I decided the best course of action was to rent a Bobcat and ram the Jetta into the snowbank. But I turned around and drove all the way around the block instead. Go figure.

I made a hasty decision to leave a note on the windshield, explaining to the horrible ass-wolf of his illegal actions. Suz and I also made a decision to cut short our crappy winter and head to the famous crystal clear scuba-diving waters of Cozumel, Mexico.

So that's it for me for a while. Next time you hear from me, I'll be a little browner, a little relaxeder, and a little hung over.

5 Bizarre Things About Montreal

A week before Halloween, Suz and I headed off to Montreal where I learned 5 totally strange things. And I had plenty of time for the shock to nestle deep into my brain while I wandered around downtown Montreal on my cane for a few days.

In all my travels, I have never seen anything quite like Montreal. The 2nd largest city in Canada is home to approximately 1.6 million mostly bi-lingual people, and was surprisingly warm and sunny during our late October stay.

While Suz was busy working, I was observing the beautiful architecture all around me.

Some areas of Montreal were pretty desolate due to the Underground City, a series of tunnels and a mall, which was constantly crowded. But far above the hustling, bustling French mole town, I snapped pictures of fabulous buildings, both old and new, much to the shock and/or disgust of many Montrealers.

Most people, in their normality, ignored me, or simply made a mental note of the handsome guy with the cane taking photos of les gargoyles on buildings. At number 5 on my list of Bizarre Things I Learned about Montreal, however, were the oddballs who scowled at me and my camera, trying to imagine the unprecedented levels of retardation I had somehow achieved by wanting to take pictures of buildings.

As I walked around I noticed the same phenomenon at every intersection. Number 4 is how both drivers and pedestrians alike ignore traffic signs and signals. Every 2.3 seconds a pedestrian walked into the busy roads without looking or caring. Speedy drivers blasted through crowds of people, and merely gave the friendliest little honk to warn of their approach. Without slowing down, they pass, inches away from giving the nearest funeral home more business. It was amazing to watch. In fact, I even captured a crew removing speed bumps, just so those Villneuve wanna-be's could drive even faster.

I continued wandering around, admiring the architecture of both office buildings and churches. During my time on the streets I encountered lots of people. At number 3 are the beggars. What's unusual about these people is that they do not ask for money. Everyone, essentially, asked for either a cigarette or at the very least, 'a light.' Weird.

Exiting a Le Burger King, I encountered the only man who asked me for money. What offended me about this encounter was not that the 20-something guy rammed a Le Tim Horton's cup, literally, into my face, forcing me to jerk backwards. No. What bothered me so immensely was that this friendly fellow was better dressed than I was.

I like to observe. Okay, read into that what you want, but while observing people walking around Montreal, I noticed number 2; That everyone was extremely thin. Yes, Montreal, the city of skinny people. Quite seriously, I saw TWO slightly overweight people during my entire stay. Two.

And that might explain number 1. With everyone in the city walking, Montrealers must be extremely healthy. Being so fit, I assume they would take the stairs whenever possible. Which is why so many of them didn't know how an elevator worked.

Seriously.

It was actually funny watching the confused faces of people and hearing the gasps of horror escape their lips when the doors opened to reveal... wait for it... PEOPLE already on the elevator. It was less funny when these puzzled and perplexed groups attempted to force their way onto the same overfull elevator, while everyone on the elevator shoved their way past in order to get off. This happened to me at least twice a day, for four days straight.

But don't get me wrong based on silly observations. I loved Montreal, and would love to visit again. I was surprised at the friendliness, and how easy it was to get around. It is a very logical city, with beautiful, well-spaced buildings which allow light to brighten the seemingly darkest alleys.

Happy Thanksgiving, Ottawa

What do I have in common with Prime Ministerial candidates Stephen Harper, Stephan Dion, Jack Layton and Elizabeth May? Absolutely nothing, as opposed to them, I spent thanksgiving weekend in Ottawa.

Suz and I were visiting her CBC reporter sister who lives about 2 blocks from Parliament hill with her super sweet kitty who enjoys scratching her own face and long walks on the beach.

I spent lots of time checking out the gothic Parliament buildings and beautifully manicured surroundings for the first time since somewhere around the time my armpits started needing their own manicuring.

While enjoying the amazing fall colours, I also took the opportunity to enjoy the Halloween aspects of the main building, namely the gargoyles. The gothic 'goyles jut out from the base of the clock on the Peace Tower. If they were functional (and I do not know if they are) they would likely spew water runoff collected from the steep roof. The copper roof is probably a huge bonus. I suspect even the most experienced steep-pitch roofers would probably balk at that particular roofing job, but not without taking a non-refundable 25% deposit first, of course.

But the architecture wasn't the only beautiful thing on Parliament hill this weekend. Flocks of photographers and tourists flooding the area also found the river views, the autumn trees, and the shithead statuary spectacular.

With such amazing scenery and architecture distracting Canada's leader, it is a wonder anything ever, uh, gets done on, um... Parliament hill. Right.

Nightmare Anniversary

Years ago Suz and I made an agreement. Instead of buying cheap Walmart gifts that make each other cry like we were punched somewhere special, we'd take a little trip on our anniversary. This year our anniversary ended, quite literally, with Nightmares.

Niagara Falls, surrounding the Horseshoe falls, has developed over the years to become an incredible tourist attraction. There is so much love in Niagara Falls that it has come to be known as the Honeymoon Capital of the world. Whether that's true or not is unknown to me.

What I do know (which, admittedly, isn't much) is that my love for the falls falls into the category of Halloween. What's Halloween without fear and monsters and haunted houses? The Falls delivers the latter in spades! Castle Dracula! The House of Frankenstein! The Haunted House! And of course, Nightmares.

A couple of years ago we went through The Haunted House. Full of skeletal displays, pneumatic fright devices and moderately lit passages, this one was for the faint of heart. While most certainly fun, it was nothing to be afraid of.

This year Suz begged and begged me to go through "Nightmares Fear Factory", which was located up the hill, apart from the main attractions. On our last day, just before driving home, I decided it was time.

==Spoiler Warning==
(While I do not want to ruin the experience for anyone I do reveal two small details below which you would discover almost immediately for yourselves anyway)

Upon entering I posed two irrelevant questions to the abandoned coffin factory's proprietor: 1. Is it pitch black? 2. Are there any moving floors that might cause me to fall with my cane?

I say the questions were irrelevant because five minutes after he answered "Yes" to both, we were deep in horror territory, with Suz clutching my arm as hard as she could. For a girl who was dying (pardon the pun) to go through this haunted coffin factory, she was absolutely terrified.

As you can see in the photo, I spent the entire time merrily leading the way. I could hardly contain my laughter throughout the experience. It's not that the tactics used in this haunted house were funny, no - it was Suz's constant blood-curdling screams... and I was having a ball.

Two Martini-thumbs up to Nightmares for their creeptacular haunted coffin factory... despite the fact that there is little visual creepiness to enhance the experience.

A Hurricane Vacation

One hundred degrees Fahrenheit and 100% humidity one day and ridiculous winds, rain and crashing waves the next. The weather we experienced on our Florida vacation was extreme to the max. Okay, not quite THE max, but pretty darn close.

Going to Florida as a kid, I got used to the muggy air, then the chill of the a/c cranked to eleven when I went inside. It was exciting to experience different weather and see different plant and animal life in a different part of the continent - yet still watch Fraggle Rock at the same time because we never left our time zone.

When Suz and I went to Florida in August, we experienced hurricane Fay, then scorching days until hurricane Gustav ran past and smacked us around.

Between the vendors on the pier, the coast guard hovering overhead and a school of dolphins partying with the swimmers, crowded Clearwater beach was always exciting. But when Gustav started coming closer, things got more dazzling. I crouched on the beach for nearly 20 minutes before I captured 1.21 gigawatts of electricity, yep, a bolt of lightning coming down from the sky. Thankfully the DeLorean was nowhere in the vicinity and remains safely in 2008.

A trip to St. Petersburg gave us a real thrill when we watched 30 foot waves crash higher than the palm trees lining our flooded parking lot. Even from 200 feet away the mist wrapped its salty hands around my camera lens.

I managed only to smear the lens with my salt-covered shirt and resorted to licking the lens clean, much to Suz's disgust.

For most island nations and the coastline of the U.S., hurricanes are devatstating and a horror to flee from. But when you're just getting the fringes, it makes for some exciting times and some interesting photos.

Claudia Wells Is #1

Celebrities sell. Watching my blog's stats I've discovered that the number 1 search that brings readers to my blog is Claudia Wells, aka Jennifer Parker from Back To The Future. I'm not sure if people are looking for information on her store, Armani Wells, 12404 Ventura Blvd., Studio City CA, 91604, Phone (818) 985-5899... or they're simply looking for a photo of Claudia Wells. Whichever they need, DMC&ME delivers! (As long as it's photos with me in them)

I first met Claudia in 2006 at the Chicago show, or DCS 2006. I talked with her a little bit, learned a little about her high-end clothing store, mostly by eavesdropping, and generally had a really great time.

This year, at DCS 2008 Gettysburg, things were a little different. Although the actors still mingled and chatted with us, there was also a strict schedule to stick to for things like signing autographs and taking pee breaks. And that is the reason I wasn't able to have James Tolkan, aka the awesomely strict Mr. Strickland, sign my copy of the Back To The Future trilogy. Suz and I were busy touring the battlefield Saturday, and I'm sure I'd be declared a slacker for not trying hard enough to make it back to the Hotel.

But I'm glad to say I was able to talk with Mr. Tolkan during dinner on the first night. However, I felt that he would've been more comfortable entertaining a crowd than having a 1-on-1 conversation with a stranger pointing a camera in his face in the middle of a field...with no police in sight. Now Jeffrey Weissman, aka George McFly (BTTF II & III) is a different story. It's safe to say Jeff has as much fun with intimate conversation as he does up on stage with a thousand ears listening to him. (And even more fun with frisbees in the pool.)

When he first approached me, I was a little shocked to see that Jeffrey (seemingly?) remembered me from the Chicago show. A few minutes later Suz, myself and Jeffrey boarded a tour bus bound for the battlefields of Gettysburg.

During our excursion we chatted a bit, and listened intently to our tour guide's enthralling telling of the one of the Grim Reaper's busiest 3 days ever. This is when I learned of Jeffrey's friend. A friend who, before passing away, had compiled a book of poetry written by U.S. Civil War soldiers.

Sensing our interest in the book which was just published a few months ago, he kindly offered to send us a copy. Before we left, he gave me his email address and offered to stay in touch. It was a fantastic way to end the DCS 2008 Gettysburg vacation.

Armani Wells website.

Adventures In Conferencing

Travelling used to seem silly to me. Silly Billy, in fact. But I have done an about-face on that particular opinion and love travelling so much that I'm going to ask it to marry me on Valentine's Day.

Every fall Suz has to attend a business-related conference which takes place in the north-eastern states or eastern provinces. In previous years we've enjoyed travels to Connecticut, where we checked out some radical cemeteries, and Vermont, where we bumped into Senator Peter Welch.

For the 2008 conference, we just found out, we will not be journeying to the wonderful United States. Instead, the conference will be held in Montreal, which is still pretty le dope. When we learned of the conference this year, I started going through my photos from previous conferences and found the above door.

We are always excited to travel to a city we've never been, but myself moreso. For me, it's a free vacation, as the room has already been paid for. I spend my days lounging on the beds in the hotel room, watching movies until 2 in the afternoon. Seasoned students or cable guys with early morning appointments may scoff at my inability to stay in bed longer, but my bladder has some sort of bizarre control over me that I can't disobey.

While I spend the afternoons taking pictures and checking out the sights, Suz is doing two kinds of working. The regular kind, and the 'net' kind. She does get spare time however, and we go off and have little adventures in these beautiful cities we hadn't really contemplated visiting otherwise.

The last conference we attended was chock full of pseudo-celebrity encounters, as we partied with Senator Welch, and, to our surprise, found Gary Coleman's secret Vermont get-away, which really wasn't very well hidden.

Terrorists Are Here! And They're Crippled.

Watch out world! Airliners are being taken over by the most unsuspecting of terrorists in the world - cripples! At least, that's what Homeland Security thinks. At least, that's what I think they think, as they targeted me on my way home from Florida last week at the Tampa International Airport.

Picture it - a nicely dressed 30-something guy in line, supported by his cane, approaching airport security. Suz stood behind me, and my pilot-friend Chris, wearing a nice red shirt, had just successfully gone through security.

Now picture airport security realizing something's not right.

No, it wasn't hounds and tasers and personnel busting through crowds. It was very subtle. The first employee was baffled by my ticket, particularly the hand-written part which the nice green arrow is pointing to, above.

"Hold on," were his first words. Then turned and asked his coworker, "Have you ever seen this before?" His coworker shook her head. His hand moved to his walkie talkie.

Yeah, it was just a walkie talkie, made of plastic and bits of metal and simply used for communicating with other living persons. But dang it's scary when a person of authority moves his hand toward his waist. He's either going to pull out his gun, grab his pepper spray, or undo his pants - All of which are equally scary.

He called another security officer over and showed him my Air Canada stand-by ticket. He asked the same question, "Have you ever seen this before?" followed by, "Is this acceptable?" The entire airport seemed to go silent.

Tension mounted as the two stared at my ticket. I hoped. Suz waited. Chris wore a nice red shirt.

The answer came, and it was No. The security man opened a separate, previously roped-off area and told me and Suz to wait in there. A few minutes later another security dude told me I would be entering a chamber which would blast puffs of air all over me. I did as I was told, and when the light went green, I exited the other side.

My cane was confiscated and examined while I stood with their loaner cane. A few minutes later I was sent through the metal detector.

On the other side, it was far from over. I was asked to remove my shoes and my belt by two security officers. (I'm sure one could've done the job, but two is more intimidating, especially with one's pants around one's ankles.)

Once my personal apparel was given the thumbs up I was told to put it back on, and to sit and wait while they searched all my luggage. With blue rubber gloves on they searched through every bit of baggage. Clean clothes, dirty clothes, and I-could-probably-get-another-2-days-out-of-these-because-they-havn't-started-to-smell-yet-clothes.

After that, they searched my camera bag with some sort of swab. All I could do was think how lucky I was that they weren't using the rubber gloves or swabs on me.

Man, for them to have made all that effort I must've been one scary-looking dude. Next time I'll make sure I shave, and request that nobody writes anything weird in the bottom corner of my ticket.

Florida: It's Like High School.

Our trip to Florida was a moderately smashing success. Actually, that phrase makes about as much sense as ordering an Extra Medium coffee, so scratch that. The Florida trip was totally excellent, even though the weather wasn't.

The reason for the excellence of the trip was threefold: excellent friends, excellent price, and excellent fun.

The two friends we travelled with happen to be pilots who work for Air Canada, so procuring tickets for the airline was much less painful than usual. It doesn't even matter that we missed our first flight by 5 seconds and had to wait 5 more hours for the next one.

Nor does it matter that the toilet on that plane exploded and leaked down the side of the fuselage, then had to be cleaned up and paperwork had to be filed while we waited and waited. No. None of that matters because the price just couldn't be beat. Except, perhaps by a big European named Stipe - with a stick of course.

The highlight of the trip was an old mini-putt place near Treasure Island called Smuggler's Cove. When I was an unruly teenager the line for this place in the summer often topped an hour, as it was of amusement park quality. Now that I'm an unruly adult, I have the patience for such things, but luckily, being winter, we didn't have to wait a bit.

The place was exactly as I remembered it, from the massive pirate ship right down to the super sweet, nasty-ass alligators chillin' in the artificially blueified swamp. Upon viewing the lazy gators fenced off behind a military-approved-possibily-electrified-could've-been-barb-wired fence covered in signs reading "Do not stick your fingers into the gators' eyes, buttholes or mouths", one particular friend wondered aloud if they were real.

I wondered if he should have kept that thought to himself.

This was not the first time we had to reassure our Air Canada friends that something was actually real. It was about the fourth time, in fact. After two cranes and a pelican. I don't think I've ever said, "yes, it's real!" more in my life. It didn't matter what I said as the dang things had to move before anyone believed me. Then I changed stories and explained, not-so-convincingly, that they were robots. When still no one believed me, I punched them all and ran away crying.

Like I said, I'm unruly.

Despite the rain on Thursday and the overcast Wednesday, we had a grand time hanging out in my parents' condo, eating tasty bagels, teasing each other and going to bed early. It was kind of like high school all over again.

How To Change Maps On Sony GPS

As long as I've been using my Sony Nav-U GPS, I've discovered it to be both fun, and as annoying as a video-game deprived, snot-nosed kid in church with no kleenex and short sleeves.

The NV-U70 GPS unit is one of the smaller units on the market, memory-wise. It only has 1 gig of useable space. The problem with 1 gig is that the maps of Canada and the U.S.A. take up more than 1 gig.

To get around this problem, Sony included a DVD with various maps of North America. You can pic and choose, mix and match, which maps you want. I've never had to do this before, but since Suz and I are off to Florida tomorrow, we needed to add the southern states to our maps.

When I inserted the DVD-ROM, it installed in a few seconds. Easy. I selected "Map Manager" which lead me to a very simple map-selecting screen, which was perfect for me, being a dim-witted guy. All you need to know is where you are travelling, what it looks like on a map, and some simple math. All of which I was supposed to learn in grade 2.

The map options were:

• Full USA


• West USA


• East USA-A


• East USA-B


• Canada-A


• Canada-B


• Hawaii


• Puerto Rico


• Alaska

When I selected a particular map, the corresponding states/provinces were highlighted, and the size of the map, in MB, would appear in the bottom corner along with how much space, in MB, was left.

I deleted "Canada-A" which included about 50% of the U.S. and replaced it with "Canada-B" which only included the northernmost states. That freed up another 450 MB or so for another map. The second map I chose was "East USA-A" which included, as Homer would say, America's wang.

The next part was the hard part: Waiting. Waiting usually isn't very hard to do. But when you really want something and are forced to wait and wait for an unreasonable amount of time, it can get frustrating.

Ask any video-game deprived, snot-nosed kid sitting in church.

Get this. It took one and a half hours for the maps to be transferred to the Sony NAV-U. Wow. I could've watched an entire movie. Or written 90 high quality answers for Useless Advice From Useless Men. But instead I played Killer Instinct on my old SNES. It was time well-spent.

And now I'm going to spend some more time relaxing and having fun in Florida. See you all in some form or another when I get back next week.

What I Learned in Vancouver

Suz and I just got back from spending 8 days in Vancouver and four hours in Calgary waiting for our connecting flight. We were spending Christmas with family and the experience was exactly how I imagined it would be - unpredictable. Snow one day, rain the next. A generous blast of sunshine, then snow again. It was neat, albeit slightly nauseating. And I learned something important while I was there. You don't need money to enjoy it.

Nope. You don't need money to see the amazing sights in Vancouver. Looking at mountains is free. The bridge-happy city is surrounded by coastal mountains and water and none of it costs a cent. All you really need is a little luck with the weather, at least in the winter.

The weather was so unpredictable that we had to check the weather network hourly to see if our plans were going to be thrown out the window. During a sunny day we drove off to Stanley park and watched the sun set behind the cityscape while Asian tourists asked us to take their picture in front of the totem poles. We drove deeper into the park and stopped in a small parking lot with "Wawa" parking to take in this view of the mountains & industry on the water.

And we didn't have to fly all the way to L.A. or some tropical island for great palm trees. Vancouver, as if to brag, has these coconutty trees planted all over the city. I was really surprised to see them, but even more surprised to see all the estates with giant palms guarding the front gate, or lining the driveways.

Mountains are neat and all, but it's not just those pointy, hard, jaggedy rock things that are incredible. In places like White Rock, even the soft, so-fluffy-you-could-wipe-your-ass-with-em clouds are spectacular.

And you don't need to fork out the same amount a small country's GDP for a chauffeur to drive you around to see all these awesome sights. Nope. All you need is an awesome brother-in-law who lives in B.C., and will drive you anywhere you want to go.

Multi-Christmas

This year Suz and I are having multi-Christmas due to a change in our standard Christmas plans. And it has already started. So, I offer you this simple phrase, to men from 1 to 92; although it's been said many times, many ways: my apologies.

Yes, my apologies to all the men out there who are just about to start their Christmas shopping this week - because not only did I finish my shopping weeks and weeks ago, but gift-opening has already begun.

It started Saturday night when we attended Tonton's annual Christmas party. The evening was full of good times, Jesus action figures, and the house was decorated to the max. We indulged in rich chocolate desserts and fancy beverages till the wee hours.

The house was full of elaborately decorated Christmas trees, just like this one, their 20-footer. Outside, the snow storm transformed their yard into a winter wonderland. Unfortunately it also transformed the roads into a driving nightmare.

The next morning we were completely snowed in. Which was actually quite enjoyable, because Suz and I held our own Christmas in the cozy warmth of our fireplace. Breakfast was the typical Christmas feast of chocolate and candy from our ravaged stockings, and later we took the Talon out for a spin, literally, in the snow.

Later this week we'll be exchanging presents with my sister and parents before we head off to Vancouver for our final Christmas with Suz's family. I'm very excited about the trip and find it quite fun to do something different this year. I promise next year everything will return to normal, IE - no shopping until December 24th.

Crushed

Buying souvenirs is difficult. I never know what to buy. Bits of jewellery sell in abundance along tropical beaches, but I don’t know anyone who wears bright aquamarine stones, seashells and shark teeth.

Even though my mom is difficult to buy for, I still do my best to bring her back something. And this year, that something happened to be a small clay figure that was really quite neat looking.

The problem with clay is that it’s sort of on the fragile side. And, unfortunately, airlines are not famous for gently stowing traveller’s luggage.

Our luggage, probably stowed beside the landing gear, was crushed to atoms by the hydraulics when the wheels were retracted. We were able to salvage my Scooby Doo boxers, a shoulder strap, and my mom’s headless clay figure.

Saddened by the demise of ‘Roger’, I printed a photo of us standing in front of the mountains, put it into a nice frame, and gave that to my mom instead. To explain the situation, I showed her the above picture of what her souvenir should have been, and she actually asked me to print it for her.

The best thing about a photo of the obliterated ‘Roger’ is that my mom will never have to worry about knocking it over.

But the next time I visit my parents, I hope I don’t find ‘Roger’ sitting in that frame instead of me and Suz. That would just crush me.