Medicine Hat

Yes, that's actually the name of a place. A real place. And the best part?

The people who live there are called "Hatters". Isn't that fantastic?

Anyways, I went out there yesterday to spend the day with a friend, and had a great time. I associate The Hat with, well, pick-ups, chewing tobacco, and cowboy boots. And we did encounter a bit of that - minus the chew, thankfully - but we also managed to locate a couple of really interesting restaurants, and to find the COOLEST tree to take some pictures of.

The tree was kind of by accident. You see, Medicine Hat is the home of the world's tallest teepee. With, coincidentally, the world's worst paintings on it. In any case, it really is worth a visit, and so we decided, since neither of us had spent much time there before, to visit it. Captivating as it is, the thrill only lasts so long, so we decided to wander down into the ravine/gully/valley thing behind it and take a look.

Definitely worth the look. Hope you like the pictures... there are a couple more here.

I Spent It All

So, I'm in Calgary now. It's really cold, and there's a bunch of snow on the ground, but yesterday I had Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers, and today I got to drive my own car. I have said good-bye to some amazing friends in the last week, but tomorrow I fly down to get Erin. I'm a lot further from anyplace that serves good fondue, but so far I've understood almost all the people who have tried to talk to me since I arrived.

Yeah, kind of strange.

As I was leaving Geneva, something happened that made me think of Derek - perhaps the only man I know who has more appreciation for a well-crafted analogy than I do. This is what it was.

I had 8.20 CHF left... all the rest I had deposited in my bank, or traded for USD, or gotten rid of some other way (like a roasted chestnut binge - I figured it may be a while before I get those again). I figured I'd get a sandwich and a drink or something at the airport. Well, I get past security, went to the sandwich guy, and looked, and most of his sandwiches were more than I had, just on their own. But he did have croissants, for 1-60 each.

I did the math... 3 croissants at 1.60 would be 4.80, which would leave me 3.50 for a coffee to go with them. So that's what I ordered. He gave me the croissants, gave me the coffee, and then told me the total: 8.50.

Oh.

I counted again to make sure and then just said, "uh, let's make that two croissants". He looked confused so I explained that I was 30 cents short. He just looked at me, kind of shrugged, and said "that's okay - no problem. " He took my partial payment, gave me the food, and I thanked him for being so kind and left.

And I realized that's a bit how I feel about leaving Geneva now... like I spent every last cent. I didn't run out while I was there - I had everything I needed, both to have, and to give, but I didn't have any left in reserve by the time I got on that plane. As hard as it is to say good-bye to the wonderful friends I have there, I've reached the end, and I'm ready for what's next.

It's going to be a pretty interesting few months.

Ed & Zoe

My friends Ed & Zoe got married a couple of weeks ago. Here are some pictures from their wedding:

You can see more here.

Blog-Off

I'm hesitant to post this.


I've been, it seems, invited (challenged? entangled?) to a blog-off.

What's a blog-off, you ask? That's a reasonable question. In fact, it's the first one I had, as well. The original format was going to be a topic decided by a third party, with the challenger and I each having 20 minutes to write and publish a post on it, to then be judged by another person. That concept seems to have passed, however, and now I'm not entirely sure if it's based on quality, quantity, readership, or some other factor that I've failed to identify.

But every time I talk to Katie, she reminds me about it. So, whatever it is, it seems to be on.

Katie's blog is babygotbrit. And I've put a link here, but I'm not sure I can encourage you to read it, in case this is being decided by number of hits. I'm also not sure what the prize is for winning.

It's been a while since I've had a good bit of public self-analysis, though, so I may as well continue on in that direction. There are, I think, only two things that really, really make me competitive.

First is going to a concert. I kind of like to be at the front. And when I go, I get pretty... uh, focused. I have a routine I go through that's pretty established, and has gotten me a good spot at a lot of shows. I'm not ruthless, not aggressive, but I have a goal and I go for it.

The only other thing that I've really been able to identify is doing something with someone who really, really wants to win. I remember playing foosball with my friend Fred. I love the guy... he's quiet, friendly, warm... and LOVES to win, HATES to lose. Anyway, I had been playing for a while with a bunch of people and just relaxing, enjoying it, laughing. Fred joined up on the other side of the table, and he got his game face on pretty quickly. Well, I'll tell you... I couldn't care who won or lost, but every time I scored on him (which was, happily for me, pretty frequently) I could see him getting more and more desperate to win. I'm not usually cruel, but there's something about that situation... someone wanting with their whole heart to beat me in something completely trivial... that just seems like an invitation to play with them that's just a little too good to pass up.

So, if you have any suggestion of how I may be able to take the lead in the blog-off, I'm all ears. Wish me luck!

Oh, THAT Thursday

A chat I had with Korey this evening:

6:45 PM Korey: YOu there?

6:46 PM We are picking you up in Lyon on Thursday morning, correct? Jenny was a little unsure when she heard your message!

6 minutes

6:52 PM me: Yeah - I think we had said 10, which is just when I get in... let me check the ticket again to confirm...

Arrival is scheduled for 10

6:53 PM I was just wondering about electricity... do you know if there are plug-ins at the camp site?

Korey: I don't remember their being plug-ins. One sec and I'll check their web site

6:54 PM me: [tapping foot]

;-)

Korey: Ha!

It says that there is electricity on every plot.

To that sounds positive.

...

7:03 PM Korey: Do we have your mobile?

+41 2131 XXXX?

7:04 PM me: Yeah, in one fo the emails... that number is my office in Lausanne, that I called from today

Mobile is +41 79 506-XXXX

Korey: Right, got it. Just in case, you know?

:)

Okay get packing!

7:05 PM me: Yeah, probably a good idea. Also, what's your car like? Besides having the steering wheel on the wonky side?

Korey: Blue Honda Civic. 2000. Very bland. Beige interior. Small brown moose hanging from the rear-view that goes by the name of Guillaume

7:06 PM 5-door

Sedan, though, not the hatch back.

me: Okay, when I'm outside of the station, I'll just ask for Guillaume

Korey: Like yours was.

Yeah, that'll work awesome.

me: Sorted.

See you tomorrow

Korey: No!

Thursday!

7:07 PM me: Wait... I missed that part... I thought it was tomorrow.

That could be an issue... okay - I'm going to see if the ticket office is open...!

Korey: Tomorrow is Wednesday!

7:08 PM me: Crap, I do this all the time

Korey: We leave here tomorrow morning, take the ferry to Calais, overnight in Dijon and then to Lyon on Thursday!

me: The ticket is correct - for the 19th

I just put it in outlook wrong

Korey: LOL

Apparently, the oxygenated water is going to take a little while to kick in.


Rats.

The Dublin Pictures - Part I

Okay, I haven't been able to edit them all, yet. But I've done some, and you can see them here.

These are some of my favorites so far.

Hi - My Name Is Darryl and I'm From the Plane

So, I like it here. And by here, I mean Ireland; Dublin, actually.

We just arrived yesterday and, as the myth goes, the Guinness really does taste better here... not as bitter, and yes, I am sure it is not just my imagination. I was expecting that to be a real hoax, but it's true.

But besides that, the people are so, so friendly. Everyone I've talked to (and, when you get lost as much as I do, you get the chance to talk to a lot of people) has been incredibly helpful and cheery. No one has given me wrong directions just for the fun of it. And a lot of them even smile when we're talking. Plus, they have the coolest accent. And really, really good beer.

And not just the Irish are friendly - as I was shooting today, I had a couple of Italian men (one with a very, very small dog) come up to me to ask about my gear. They knew by site the lens I was using (nerds!) and we chatted for a while about pictures, about gear, and about why everything costs twice as much here as it does in the US. And, on that note, one of them offered to buy the lens from me for as much as I had paid for it (well, it and a few other little accesories). It was pretty funny - I thought he was joking, but he kept offering. I didn't go for it, and thankfully they didn't sic the little dog on me. That could have been a problem.

We did have another little dog who caused a bit of trouble later in the day, though. As we were looking around at a church, Katie and Robyn decided (naturally) that they would like to roll down a grassy hill. Which, given the options you may have when faced with the question of what to do with a grassy hill, in general, is not a bad choice. Anyways, they did, much to the consternation of a small and rather aggressive dog across the lawn. He came tearing over, threatening to nip at the heels of the poor girls, until I stepped on him and killed him.

Actually, I didn't - his owners came over and collected him. But it would have made for a better story. Oh well.

Before that, I was in Munich, again. I worked there for quite a while, a few years ago. And you know what? I never thought I would say it, but it was good to be back. I like the Germans... their food, the way they look, their architecture, the language. Yeah... it's been a good week.

Hmmmm.... we have dinner plans and I need to go. But I'll try to update you a little more on the trip tomorrow. Happy weekend, all!

Are You Engaged?

I'm not sure what it is, but the last two times I've been out shooting, I've had people come up to me and want to talk. Now, I'm not opposed to that - not exactly used to it in Geneva (though there were a lot of people who wanted to know more about what I was doing in Stockholm), but it's kind of fun.

I'm starting to think that it could be a good way to make new friends, should I ever find myself in short supply. There have been a couple of guys who have come up, despite my headphones being in and game face on, and talked for a while and then offered to get me a drink at a cafe if I was up for it. In both cases I wasn't - I had some specific shooting I wanted to do with limited time - but it was pretty friendly, I thought.

Now before someone makes a reference to my fellow concert-goers for the Kylie show, let me just say that I'm pretty sure these guys were not Kylie fans. They were in different cities, but both said more or less the same thing - that they really liked meeting new people from different places, and made a habit of just going out to see who they could find, having a drink with them, and just making new friends.

It occurred to me that it's not that different from what I do with my pictures, in some ways. And there are probably some people (like me) who wouldn't feel strange about taking pictures of total strangers, but would be a bit freaked out by just going and starting conversations with random interesting-looking people in the street. There are others who would probably feel the opposite.

Curious.

Anyways, I guess I'm happy to be counted among those who look interesting enough for people to stop and talk to in a language that's not their own. I always feel like I should give them candy or something after, but I'm not sure that's a healthy instinct.

Anyways, what I was shooting for in Geneva (and where I got the title for this post... for those following along at home, I am not, in fact, that kind of engaged) is a local community outreach program called engaGE (since, "GE" is the abbreviation for the canton of Geneva). It encourages people to get involved in helping the homeless, the lonely, and others who need a hand in their city. You can keep an eye on their site, and eventually you may see a few of my shots popping up.

Shiny

I was thinking this morning... a couple of years ago, I got a birthday gift from a friend... it was a cool little shoe-shine kit in a nice leather case. As she gave it to me, she said, "I wasn't sure what to give you... but I was talking to another friend and we were commenting on how your shoes are always in such good shape, so I got you this."

Well, I thought (and still think) that it was a very kind and thoughtful gift.

But it occurred to me this morning... if my shoes are always in good shape, wouldn't it be a pretty safe bet that I already had the stuff to shine them?

Curious.

Anyways, it's not my birthday now, so please don't read this as some kind of hint for you to send gifts (as if you need a reason), but I was putting away some shoes this morning that, to my shame, do need to be shined.

Good thing I've got the kit!

Oz

I think I wish I was Australian.

The hostel we're at here in Cesky Crumlov has Australian managers (at least for now... they're traveling, and just took the job for a couple months to tide them over until they head to France), another Australian couple there, and a fifth Aussie guy.

And they are all so friendly it just about frightens me.

I've heard "Yeah, no worries, Darryl!" about a thousand times in the last two days. And every time, it makes me smile. They joke around, they smile constantly, they use words that, I'm sure, they are making up on the spot. They have nicknames for everyone, as well as for a good number of inanimate objects, too. They say things like "yeah, mate, I have to go for a run... had some sugar, need to burn it off!" that are just wildly entertaining. Really, if you're planning to just burn it off, why bother in the first place?

When we arrived, I was pissed off. There was supposed to be someone here to meet us when we arrived. There was a sign on the door saying that reception was open until 8, and, at 7:30, there was nobody there, except for a couple of girls staying in the hostel who, kindly, opened the door and let us in. The managers had left a phone number on the door that was, unfortunately, missing a number. Didn't work.

Once we got in, I dug around a little bit, and found a paper on a noteboard with the wifi key, so I logged on, got online, and found the right phone number. So I called, and there was no answer. I left a message. But would they get it? Would they be back? Who knows... at least we were inside. But I figured that between not being there, leaving a phone number that didn't work, and then not answering it when we did call them, these guys had a couple strikes against them in my book when we were to meet.

So when they arrived, I was ready to tangle. But I was almost immediately disarmed by the Shawn and Tamara greeting me like a long-lost friend, apologizing for the mix-up, clearly being mortified about leaving the wrong number, and then treating me like I was staying at their house. They had been bowling, with the other Aussies staying here. Within 30 seconds all was forgiven, I was ready to go for a drink with them, and silently bemoaning my lack of an accent.

Add that to the many other Australians I have known and loved in Geneva, and I think that I want to go there. Other than the heat and the bugs and the seemingly large number of animals, plants, and creepy-crawlies capable of killing you that are native to that big island, I have a humch it might be my kind of place.

Prague, Day 1

Well, we're here, I can pick up a wifi signal in my room, and have 5 minutes before I need to get breakfast. So, first impressions:

• It's strange to be in a place with snow again
• Judging from the ride from the airport, speed limits are not highly enforced here, yet
• People walk on the highway. Strange, in a "wow, I wonder what's going to happen" kind of way
• I remember now that I don't know any Czech at all. Not please, thank you, yes, now, numbers... nothing. It lends me a certain innocence that is, I think, refreshing
• I hate dealing with other currencies. Math. Yuck.
• My old bass player is here on business. I hope I get to see him.
• There are fences or wall around everything. There must be a lot of dogs.
• They have illuminated clocks hanging from some of the street lights. I think that's a wonderful idea, even if it did come from the communists.
• I wonder if it's too late to get tickets to a hockey game.
• To compensate for not knowing their language, I have also not learned anything else about the Czech Republic before coming here. We're going to another city, tonight, called Cheskie-something. I don't know where it is, and if I lose Troy and Katie I may actually die here.
• The lights over the river last night were beautiful. I can't wait to get pictures.

Got to go!

Grafitti Day

For Caro, and Troy, and whoever else has been somehow waiting until it returned before they would visit again (at least, with a mac).




I really do.

Just For You

I'm a bit of an analytical kind of guy. And I have a kind of fascination with honesty.

I try, as much as I can, to be honest with myself, about myself. And I've done some pretty serious self-exploration over the last couple of years. I've figured some stuff out.

But it's always interesting to know how other people view me, too. I think sometimes people can see things in me that I can't see (or don't recognize) in myself. And sometimes, I think that they miss the reality of who I am because something about me - or about them - gets in the way of seeing the truth.

In any case, I've come to grips with two things:

1. Not everyone has the same penchant that I do for "I want to know!" (relative to just about everything that doesn't involve numbers or heavy machinery)
   
2. Asking "hey, what do you really think about me?" can put people in kind of an uncomfortable spot. Especially if they're not nearly as fond of me as I think and also value honesty

So, as a rule, I don't go around asking. But I am always intrigued when I get a clue or two.

Now, we all recommend stuff to people because we like it. But I'll probably tell everybody that they should listen to whatever my album du jour is, whether it's their style or not. Granted, I may be a special case in that regard ("it's not the music that's a problem; it's your taste"), but I think most of us would do that. So if someone tells me, "hey, I loved this book, you should read it", I may read it, but I'll often interpret it as a comment about that person, or where they're at at the moment.

It's different though, when they say it like this: "I saw a movie that you need to see - I think it's just the kind of movie you would like".

All of a sudden, I have a pretty fascinating window into what they think about me. It happened to me twice in the last week or so, both times from colleagues who wouldn't really have any way to know much about my taste in movies.

But they know me.

Thankfully, neither one of the shows contains the words "bimbos", "outer-space", or "chainsaw". So far, so good.

The first, which I've just started to watch is "Into The Wild". The second is "There Will Be Blood" (which, as far as I could tell when he described it, is slightly more sophisticated than its "chainsaw" cousins).

Since I haven't watched them, I can't really comment yet on what it is my colleagues are trying to say about my personality when they suggested them. But I'm kind of curious to see.

Do you do this? I can't be the only one... come on, it's safe to open up here. We're all friends, and your mother will never need to know. Mine will, but she won't tell...

The Difference

...between wanting a haircut and needing a haircut is usually, for me, a pretty big one. And it pretty much always comes with "wanting" first. I got a cut before the wedding... I wanted to look sharp since I'd be pretty visible, but it ended up being, uh, pretty short. I don't blame the girl... I don't think there was much she could have done. But I really have to find a way to disassociate "haircut" with "look better" and "nice way to spend my lunch time" in my mind.

Rats.


Here's the evidence (as seen by Allan's camera)... end of the night, as you can probably guess, but short hair or not, it was a great time.

Me, John (groom), and Allan (co-speech-giver)

The Wedding (Again)

Well, yesterday was another wedding for a wonderful close friend. It was a busy day, but it was great. Busy because:

I was in the bridal party
I was playing drums and singing for the 8 or so songs they had during the ceremony
I was giving the toast to the groom (tag-team with another groomsman)
I was the emcee for the reception
I sat in on drums with the groom and the band for a few tunes at the dance

Great because I love the people who got married, and it was beautiful to see them taking this step, to hear them promising their love and faithfulness to each other. And it was good because I loved being able to participate in their day and give them something that maybe wasn't better than what someone else could have given them, but was, at least, unique, and could only have been from me, in how I played and supported and spoke.

And since I don't think that there was anyone there who regularly reads (or at least comments) here, I'm going to take a minute to just say that I nailed it. It was a good feeling.

Music is pretty much not a problem - I love to play, love to perform, so that's all good.

The toast was a bit tricky... the friend I was giving it with was quite nervous, and our styles are pretty different - I like to figure out the main points I want to hit and then just get up and talk. He likes to have everything written out, to be able to read it. But we got it figured... decided on a theme (a user's guide about the groom, for the bride), figured out which stories to tell and who would do what, got his part written out and mine outlined, and it went over really well. Funny in parts (okay, for most of it), but also really honest and sincere and appreciative from both of us. I think that best compliment that I received after (except for a hug and "I love you, man" from the groom) was this: "you really showed a side of him that most people here wouldn't know, and though speeches like that sometimes feel forced and a little put on, it was just so sincere and natural - I could tell it came from your heart. I think you really presented him well to the bride's family".

That made me happy.

The other part of my talking was a bit of an adventure. To MC a wedding with a lot of structure is not so hard... you just make sure things are moving along from one event to the next, more or less as close to on-time as you can manage. But this was not a highly structured affair.

I also realized as we were driving from the church to the reception hall that I had meant to think of some stories to tell, some jokes or something... and had completely forgotten. Oh well.

So I winged it. And I'm glad I did... it meant I could be casual, relaxed (I had one person after comment that it felt like I was just talking to one person... and after struggling for YEARS to get past my "now I'm giving a presentation" voice, that was a huge compliment for me) and funny on my own. And it went really well - I think it helped to give the rest of the evening a casual, relaxed, and confident foundation to kind of float along on. It was cool.

So, turns out this post is mostly just bragging so far... not my usual fare, and if you're a newcomer to The Yellow Couch, please don't be scared away without reading a bit more. I'm not usually quite like this. But I'm really happy with how it went, and wanted to share it with you.


It was a pretty significant day for me for another reason.

I don't dance (except at concerts, where I move pretty much non-stop from start to finish).

Or, at least, I didn't.


As the dance started, I kind of slumped into my seat. Usually, I start figuring out how I can get home and into bed at this point. But I had to be there till the end, tonight. I was ready for a long, long night.

I was sitting next to one of the bridesmaids, a friend from a long time ago who had come back to Geneva for the wedding. I said something to her about always dreading this part of the wedding. She was surprised. So was my co-speech-giver's girlfriend, on the other side of me. "You're musical," she said (which, actually, pretty much everyone does at this point in the conversation), "you must be able to dance". I tried to explain that having good rhythm is not the same as being a good dancer, but she would have none of it. They both decided that I was incapable of not being able to dance. Meanwhile the band started into the second tune, a 60's rocker. My bridal party counterpart looked at me and said, "hey, you know, it's a fast one, and there are a lot of people out there - no one is even going to notice you if it doesn't work". I decided she was right.

"Okay," I said, "do you want to dance?"

She did, so out we went, and you know what? It was fun. I liked it, and I kept dancing until I realized that it was going to be the first time I would ever have to get a suit dry-cleaned within the first week that I had owned it. But it was worth it. Turns out I can dance - not stunningly well, but well enough. So I danced with her, with other friends, with women I didn't know, with a whole bunch of people, with no one in particular. I danced with the bride, and even with the groom. It was pretty good.

Yeah, good wedding. And it left me thinking the same thing as the groom as we stepped off the dance floor for a drink and a bit of time to talk. We sat down and he looked at me, and said in his usual, direct way "Well, that's good. Done. Now, D... when is yours?".

The PIctures

Okay, my Amsterdam pics are up. We're in the middle of daddy-daughter day here, so I can't write more now. But you can start with the pictures, here.

Here are a few of my favorites.

Amsterdam

Just got back from a weekend in Amsterdam with some great friends.

It was really cold.

I ate a lot of fries with mayonnaise.

I met a poet.

I took 600 pictures.

I didn't smell much more pot than in Geneva.

I lost at cards.

I didn't sleep much.

So, I'll write more later.

Slowing

...to a crawl, in terms of posting. I've been busy - time with friends, time with family, and even managed to get in some hockey and wings. But have a good Christmas, everybody. Consider this a big hug from me.

Faces

Okay, for Lori and anonymous, here are a few more of my favorite shots from the wedding. You can see the full set (not all 400 I took, but the ones I like the best) here.




Not the groom, but a friend of mine, and I like the shot.




I love this one.




One that's actually wedding-ish. The bride.




At the aperitif







The dress.




The bass player. Not Chuck, the MNB bass player, though.

British Nathan

He's back, and it's cool. For never considering myself much of a room-mate kind of guy, I sure like it when Nathan's in town. I drink more tea. I have more good conversations. I get an appreciative audience to show my progressing mix-downs to. The little chick likes to get him to read stories to her. And every once in a while I get to hear him play.

Very nice.

And I can't wait for the weekend. I know it's only Thursday, but I'm ready. I was ready yesterday, in fact.

In other news, I've installed a tea station at our "office" (in the client offices) in Lugano. There is a coffee machine on our floor, but it's one of those ones with terrible instant coffee - absolutely brutal. A kettle, a few cups, the hotel is kind enough to leave tea in the rooms that we can bring with and - voila - instant team spirit. It's cool.

Ummmmm.....

You know when you get to that point in a phone conversation where you don't really want to hang up, but you also don't have anything else to say? That's kind of where I'm at, now.



So, I guess, talk to you later?