Ghost Story?

We had a Hallowe'en theme for our team meeting at work this past Thursday, and as someone willing to speak publicly, I was asked if I would like to share a ghost story - this is what I said (as best I can recall).

Asking me to tell a ghost story is kind of a tricky proposition. Do I believe in ghosts? Well, not really, but kind of?

I believe in the soul, in a way that no religious belief can fully lay claim to. I don't think most people would question the existence of a part of us that exists beyond or physical and mental selves. Is the emotional axis simply a subset of our minds? Perhaps, but then you could argue that consciousness itself is simply a fragment of our physical brains.

No, I believe the feeling part of us is potentially even deeper and less understandable than the thinking piece. And I appreciate that this assertion requires a bit of faith on its own - if a soul exists, it does so without any ability to be measured, categorized or catalogued in any meaningful way.

And something that ephemeral and immeasurable is, by definition, without limits. So if a soul is real, is it possible to determine what it might be capable of? And could this even extend to a soul somehow surviving the corporeal death of the body that formerly hosted it?

Who can say?

When I lived in Toronto and worked for Games Workshop, one of the Brits who came over to set up the Canadian operation was a good-natured and very smart fellow named Martin. One night over drinks the manager of the Queen Street shop (our oldest store at the time) was joking about the day that rats displaced the mice that you would sometimes hear running across the suspended ceiling.

Martin smiled and said, "When I was a lad, in Tipton, I heard a thumping and sliding noise from the attic above my bedroom.  I figured it was a rat, and I grabbed a stick or a hammer or summat and headed up to sort it out. But when I got up there and shone my torch around, I couldn't see anything, so I figured I must have heard something hit the roof and slide off..

"A few days later, I heard the noise again, kind of a thump! sssslide kind of sound, and it repeated. I pulled the ladder down from the attic and raced up, but same as before, couldn't see anything. It didn't even look like the dust up there had been disturbed, and it definitely sounded like something being dragged right over my head.

"The following week, I heard the sond again: thump! sssslide, thump! sssslide, thump! sssslide. I went down stairs and told my mum I was getting freaked out by a noise in the attic."

Someone interjected, "How old were you, Martin?"

Martin stroked his chin, saying "Ten or eleven, I think? Old enough that my mum laughed that I was getting wound up by mice running overhead.

"I told her, 'No, mum! It's bigger than mice, I thought maybe rats, but there's no tracks or scat upstairs, and it sounds like something being dragged around.'

"'Like what?' Mum said, and I banged my foot on the floor and dragged it a couple of times, to imitate the thump! sssslide, thump! ssssslide sound I had heard.

"I dunno what I was expecting, but it was not to have all the colour drain out of my Mum's face. She looked at me with serious eyes and said, 'that's the sound of your grandfather's walk. And he died in this house.'

"I thought she was taking the mickey out of me, and I said 'Wot? No way Mum!' but she went on. 'You were too little to remember, but your grandfather hurt his leg in a bad bike accident and dragged his right foot behind him all the time after that.'

"I laughed and said, 'Are you trying to freak me out or something?' but she shook her head. 'Go ask you Gram,' pointing to the living room. 'She'll tell you.'

"I didn't really want to know at this point, but at the same time I felt I kind of had to, y'know? So I went into the living room where my blind Gram was knitting and had the tv on so she could hear her stories, and I asked, 'Gram, did Granddad walk with a limp?'

"'Ooh, yes,' she said, 'he dragged his foot behind him til the end of his days - I could always hear him around; thump, slide, thump, slide...'

"She said that, y'know, and all the hairs on my body stood straight up. And then she said, 'I still hear him.'"

We all sat there, looking at Martin and exchanging uncertain glances with each other, and he continued, "I'm an atheist, and I don't want to believe in ghosts, but if you asked me now if I believe in them, well, I couldn't rightly say 'no', now, could I?"

Buc-ee’s, The Texas-Sized Pit Stop

I am in Texas! Tara and Jerry flew me down because after his stem cell transplant in November (well, December now), they will have to go into Covid-style lockdown for 100 days. 

Visiting Texas is a treat and with Jerry having great insurance from his employer and easy access to the M.D. Anderson Center, probably the best place on the planet to get treatment for leukemia, I have never been so happy for people I love to be living so far away!

They are both in pretty good spirits and well-supported by their health providers, so we have been relatively unrestricted in terms of activities, pending Jerry’s energy levels and overall stamina, of course. So on Saturday, following his check up at MDA, we decided to take a trip out to the Johnson Space Center, but made a critical detour along the way.

We drove maybe ten miles past the NASA HQ to Texas City and a big gas station right next to the highway, because no trip to The Lone Star State is complete without a trip to Buc-ee’s.

You are no doubt curious, as I was, as to why a highway rest stop would be warranted as a tourist destination, and the truth is, it is hard to explain what makes Buc-eee’s so distinct. After all, we have some big gas stations and Flying J truck stops to marvel at here in Canada, don’t we?

Well, to begin with, there’s the scale of it: where a big gas station in Canada might have a dozen pumps, the average Buc-ee’s has close to (or over) a hundred. And there are no semis or big rigs allowed, all private vehicles.

The size difference extends to the store as well - it isn’t just big for a gas station shop, it has a footprint similar to many Canadian Tires I have shopped in.

What do they do with all this space? Well, a lot of it is dedicated to a large, clean, bank of washrooms, one of the biggest draws for those travelling the Texas highways, but I felt inappropriate photographing it so I didn’t.

But like all such store, a large part of the floor space is taken up by racks of snacks, including the (in)famous Wall of Jerky.

Oh, you are a vegetarian? No problem, there are trays of fruit and salads in a cooler like you would find in your grocery store. There is also a roastery serving up paper cones of hot glazed pecans, cashews and almonds.  Need more than a snack? No problem, grab a hot, freshly made BBQ brisket sandwich or chicken on a bun from the sandwich stand.

There are racks and racks of fountain drinks of all varieties and a stand of slushies to select from, as well as coolers full of bottled and tinned beverages (including beer and wine, of course). But even then you are still only halfway through the store!

Next you hit all the Buc-ee’s branded merchandise; an astonishing array of stickers, tshirts, badges, hats and all that sort of thing of course, but also loungewear, sweaters, pyjamas, jackets and more, much of which is is high demand in my household. 

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And not just clothing - Buc-ee’s has a wide selection of branded home decor, including wall hangings, yard decorations and even charcuterie boards.

There are also unbranded apparel and decor items as well, most of which evoke a certain rustic or good ol’boy/girl/person sensibility.

And lastly, you will find a certain a decent selection of outdoor equipment and hardware, suitable for replenishment or possibly fully outfitting a camping trip or fishing expedition,  it which I didn’t think to document.

So there you have it - we really have nothing in .Canada to match it, and while it don’t think we need it, it is always a treat to visit Buc-ee’s, and once you know what it is, there is a weird sort of charm that makes it appealing.

But now that I think of it,  the idea of something so massive, so pervasive and so instantly recognizable within Texas but being virtually unknown  in Canada (and even in much of the U.S.) is probably a big part of its appeal to us…

Please feel free to disregard the preceding blog post - unless you visit Texas. Then I hope you visit a Buc-ee’s and see for yourself! I’m certainly grateful that Tara and Jerry insisted on taking us to one, and making a detour on this trip so I could revisit it.

GR8FUL

 A week after Thanksgiving, I am still consciously grateful for so many things in my life that it felt time to make an accounting of them. Well, some of them, anyways -an exhaustive list would be near impossible.

...for this warm fall day, brightly lit and dry, unseasonably so for mid-October.

...for a family that loves, respects and appreciates each other (and is willing to spend over an hour trying to snap a good fall picture before the wind takes all the foliage off the trees that line 97 street!). 

...for the opportunity to visit my sister and her husband in Houston next week, before he goes in for a bone marrow transplant in November.

...for my brother-in-law to be living so close to one of the best treatment centers in the world for his leukemia (and for the health insurance that lets him access it).

...for attending a church committed to life in the 21st century, and to reconciling with those we have historically wronged, like the Indigenous peoples and the LGBTQ2S+ community.

...for friends who I can spend hours with on the most ridiculous pastimes - or hours in conversation about almost nothing at all.

...for Sara's pregnancy going so smoothly (overall!) and her currently being scheduled to deploy another grandchild into our orbit in less than three weeks (a child who, like her brother, I will have no blood connection to, but have instead the immense privilege of having been asked to call myself grandfather! (Or, more accurately: Poppy.)

...for a canine companion who, though perhaps irretrievably insane, is a tremendous comfort and has filled much of the hole left in our hearts after Nitti left us two years ago. Now if she would just stop stealing my spot in bed when I visit the bathroom in the dead of night...

Peter & Ellen Got Married (By Me, of All People!)

Pete and Ellen have been a couple for well over a decade now, so when he proposed to her a couple of Christmases ago, it felt both inevitable and shocking all at once. I can't remember if they asked me to emcee or if I just offered it up, but that was established soon afterwards. 

A little while after that though, they asked me if I would conduct the civil ceremony for them, and that was surprising.

It turns out that in Alberta you can apply to become a Temporary Marriage Commissioner, with a one-day appointment. I felt tremendously honoured to have been asked, so I filled in the application form, read all the documents they sent me, and took custody of Pete & Ellen's marriage license and registration paper.  Then yesterday I married my dear friends on a beautiful autumn day with about 130 friends and relations in attendance.

What a wonderful day! What an amazing experience.

The ceremony and reception was held at the Chateau Louis here in Edmonton, outdoors in a lovely gazebo and on an unseasonably warm October day. Pete had offered to tux me up for the affair, and seeing increasingly few opportunities to wear one in the future, I had gratefully accepted; this meant I was also thankful for the shade the gazebo provided.

Pete and Ellen cleverly reversed the traditional bride and groom colours because hey, this was hardly a typical wedding, and more critically, Ellen looks great in black and knows it. This is probably why she allowed her daughter and Maid of Honour Liz to make her try on a designer gown when they were supposed to be shopping for Liz's grad dress. And it was by a New York designer and hand beaded and worth thousands of dollars but was also the last one and there was something funny about one of the armpits so she got it for a steal. 

The rest of the wedding party looked great in their tuxes and dresses, especially the bridal processional in their white Snoopy sneakers.

Ellen's mum Margaret read "The Art of Marriage" by Wilferd Petersen, but when Pete's ghodaughter read "All I Know About Love" by Neil Gaiman, the emotions really began to swell. 

This is everything I have to tell you about love: nothing.
This is everything I've learned about marriage: nothing.

Only that the world out there is complicated,
and there are beasts in the night, and delight and pain,
and the only thing that makes it okay, sometimes,
is to reach out a hand in the darkness and find another hand to squeeze,
and not to be alone.

It's not the kisses, or never just the kisses: it's what they mean.
Somebody's got your back.
Somebody knows your worst self and somehow doesn't want to rescue you
or send for the army to rescue them.

It's not two broken halves becoming one.
It's the light from a distant lighthouse bringing you both safely home
because home is wherever you are both together.

So this is everything I have to tell you about love and marriage: nothing,
like a book without pages or a forest without trees.

Because there are things you cannot know before you experience them.
Because no study can prepare you for the joys or the trials.
Because nobody else's love, nobody else's marriage, is like yours,
and it's a road you can only learn by walking it,
a dance you cannot be taught,
a song that did not exist before you began, together, to sing.

And because in the darkness you will reach out a hand,
not knowing for certain if someone else is even there.
And your hands will meet,
and then neither of you will ever need to be alone again.

And that's all I know about love.

It is a wonderful piece, and Miranda is getting married herself next year, so it may have been more impactful due to that, but when her voice caught twice during the reading, and she shook an accusatory finger at Pete, you could see the ocular humidity increasing throughout the assembly. Which I appreciated, being who I am, except that it didn't make it any easier to read what I had prepared.

I had asked the happy couple if they wanted me to say anything during the ceremony - a short message I kept erroneously referring to as a homily, but essentially a secular sermonette, if you will. Pete had grinned when I asked and said, "Well, knowing your background and eloquence - yeah, we are kind of expecting it, actually!" 

So here is what I said.

When I was a kid, I remember a series of ads for Reese’s peanut butter cups; chocolate and peanut butter would somehow, improbably get mixed together, with one person exclaiming, “Hey, you got your chocolate in my peanut butter” and the other person replying “you got your peanut butter in my chocolate!” They would then taste the combination and exclaim this is great, and the tagline was “two great tastes that taste great together.”

I had thought for years that this ad campaign, widely remembered by people of my generation  - show of hands? - meant that this tasty confection was introduced in the 1970s, but I recently learned that they actually date back to 1928, and have been a perennial best seller ever since. In terms of longevity, you might say the snack “has legs” - it has lasted a good long while.

The Reese’s success just goes to show you that you never know what combinations are going to work, right? Take Pete and Ellen, for instance…

I met Ellen shortly after she and Pete became a couple but I’ve known Pete since university days

Pete and I became friends because he was the roommate of a friend of mine, and we would meet when we ended up at their place playing our various nerdy games. Look me up later, the list is far too exahsuticve and not the point. 

We discovered a number of shared interests and appreciation for each other’s wit, and he was one of the few Alberta friends who made it out to visit Audrey and I when living in Toronto. He’s been a true friend of the family ever since.

And I immediately loved Ellen because of her forthright expressiveness, that a person with so much charm and empathy was once described as being as blunt as a mud fence. And dedicated parenting? There might be better examples of the mother bear archetype out there somewhere, but most of them tend to stay off social media and stick to the darker ends of the National Parks system and the boreal forest.

I was immensely honoured to be asked to officiate their wedding ceremony here today.

Those of you who know the happy couple are no doubt well aware of just how diametrically opposed their two households are in most ways

Nerd vs jock, bachelor vs family, a woman who loves pets vs a man rumoured to have bought one of those digital hatrchliing toys, a Tamagotchi, just so he could watch it perish.

Human interactions are notoriously complex - how do you know when a relationship has staying power, has the capacity to go the distance, or “has legs” as one might say?

I have a funny feeling that if we shot Pete & Ellen up with some sodum nambathol or other truth serum and asked them independently we might get some different answers between them, and that is fine, but as a third party, let me tell you when I knew.

My increasingly faulty memory says it was St., Paddy’s Day about nine years back - my church had a festive dinner and my daughter’s Irish Dance School was performing, so Pete, Ellen, Kai and Elizabeth joined us. After dinner, I watched restless Malachi crawl all over Pete, as a restless boy that age is wont to do, and marvelled at the fact that Pete was not taken aback by this in the slightest. Watching Pete transition into a dad-like space like that was at once jarring and reassuring. 

Other examples came later - the driving, the cheering, the math tutoring and t-short that read “Bonus Dad,” they were these tiny milestones that marked a transition from satisfied bachelor to happy father-figure and today - husband.

And conversely, we also have Ellen’s embracing some elements of a nerd culture she claims to despise, like dressing up as Rachel from Blade Runner for one of Pete’s legendary Geekquinox dinner parties. 

Truly, an impossible pairing - like peanut butter and chocolate. 

There is a continuum of weddings and this one is probably an outlier in many ways - not wide-eyed youngfolk, ready to leave home together, but two people from disparate backgrounds and interests who have improbably found love - lasting love

We can see the foundation they have spent the past decade creating together, the family that has risen so naturally in the fertile crescent created by the thin overlapping of their Venn diagrams, the clear sense of individuality that these four excellent people share paired with their immense and tangible commitment to each other and which is shared by their extended families - can I get an Amen? -  and by their many friends - do I hear a “testify!”? - 

We all know the same thing, don’t we?

It's got legs. 

The rest of the ceremony involved me diligently reading the Civil Marriage Ceremony booklet I had been sent, trying not to trip over the words (occasionally successfully), and getting Pete and Ellen to repeat the critically important affirmations and vows. No one spoke up when I asked if anyone had a reason why the wedding should not take place, and I was grateful (even though I felt moderately prepared if someone did thanks to the clear instructions provided to me by Vital Statistics).

And we signed some documents, and just like that, they were legally wed! Astonishing.

I had not sought approval for my remarks beforehand, so after the wedding I asked Ellen if they had been all right; she wrapped me in a warm embrace and said "It was just what I wanted, something light, but something personal; something funny but meaningful - thank you!"

Well, I could have just died.

I got quite a few compliments about the ceremony but the most significant came from Ellen's stepdad Bill, who is getting on in years and who sent someone over asking me to come speak with him. I walked over to his wheelchair and shook his hand, and he looked me directly in the eyes and told me in a strong voice how much he had enjoyed listening to me, then asked how long I had been doing it. 

"Doing what?" I asked.

"Been a marriage commissioner," he said. It was right around here that Ellen's sister and bridesmaid Krista told me that Bill had been director of Vital Statistics for a number of years; hired all the marriage commissioners and had officiated no small number of marriages himself.

I sputtered and thanked him for the compliment and explained that marrying folks was probably a one-time gig for me, but he suggested I do it on a regular basis, which I took as a very high compliment considering the source.

The reception went very smoothly as well -  a limited number of toasts, a hilarious FAQ session from Pete & Ellen that they fit all their acknowledgements and thanks into, and then onto the dance floor. Audrey expressed some displeasure that her table (filled with friends I have known for decades) was the very last one picked to go to the buffet, but that was really the only sub-par bit, and random and unavoidable. Honestly.

Because the happy couple had designed the day to be less of a ceremony and more of a party/ reunion, it was a hit. Everyone had a great time catching up with people - all but one of the players from my 1995 D&D campaign were in attendance and I reconnected with one of my tightest high school pals for the first time in at least half a decade - and the dance floor was never empty.

I am not one for omens and auguries, but I believe every journey feels better when it gets off to a good start. Pete and Ellen had one of the best weddings I have ever attended, and I am certain all their friends and family share my delight and joy at having been able to be a part of it, and to continue to be a part of their new life together.

Building and Painting Tiamat, The Queen of Dragons

When the opportunity presented itself to wrap up our two-year online D&D campaign in person at G&G XVI we all leapt at the chance. 

After two years of playing the first big 5e module for D&D, Tyranny of Dragons, the adventurers were ready to join the final assault on the Well of Dragons and try to stop the summoning of the five-headed Queen of the Chromatic Dragons, Tiamat, or at least prevent her from getting too far into the Material Plane.

And although I have access to more than enough dragon models, none of them were the proper scale (or had the correct number of heads) to represent a creature of such mythical status. 

Thankfully Jeff stepped in with a 3D printable design he found from Lord of the Print and dropped off a box of resin parts he had printed just prior to my birthday. I am by no means a master painter and was both intimidated and excited to paint such an immense and detailed model. After washing the parts to make sure primer would stick without issue, I laid them out and began pinning some of the larger pieces together.

Some tiny holes made with a minuscule drill called a pin vise, a bit of brass wire and a few calluses later, the wings, tail structure and a few other delicate bits were sturdy enough to survive a moderate amount of transport. The primary wings were especially challenging, since Jeff's printer at that time was too small to print them in one piece. Still, a couple of pins and a bit of green stuff to conceal the gap and seam seems to have stood up thus far.

The next step was using green stuff (epoxy putty to fill in the gaps between some of the larger pieces of the main body. I've never been deft with this stuff and it can be unforgiving to work with, keeping some water on hand and a damp modelling tool made it easier to keep the putty relatively smooth.

After letting the putty cure for a day, it was time for undercoating with some white spray primer...quite a bit, actually, except for the rocky base which I primed black. Given the size of the model, I decided to paint the body, tails, wings, base and each head separately and then aseemble it all before touching up any issues with gaps. The idea of dropping the model while turning it or hooking a wing on something and dashing it to the floor gave me anxiety, and I wanted to take my time with the heads and their characterful faces.

I glued each head to a popsicle stick and slid each stick into a slit in a small cardboard box so I could prime them all without having them roll around or get stuck to anything. Plus it would make painting each head much easier.

I started by laying some base colours down on the body, using my new Army Painter SpeedPaints to get a bit more depth on the red and orange with a single coat.

The wings got a similar three-colour treatment, and I was very happy with how the SpeedPaints brought out a bit of the texture without any additional highlighting.

Then I worked a bit on the multicoloured tail and went back to the body and picked out a few scattered scales to paint a matching colour which you can see above, so the transition from red to blue or green wouldn't appear too abrupt. These pictures were taken a little later on after I added some highlighting.

Then I could finally get to work on the heads. Despite being an unlicensed model, each head conforms to the look D&D has established for their evil chromatic dragons: black, green, white, blue and of course, red. Each face was characterful, expressive and a joy to paint, so I am glad I mounted them on the sticks.

Well, mostly glad - when I went to remove the sticks, sometimes the glue was stronger than the wood, and I would have to file, sand or scrape some super glue and wood off the neck. Ah, well - the net result was still good!

With the heads done, it was time to go back and apply some highlights to the main body...

...and the wings.

The base was mostly drybrushing but I took the time to pick out the little details they included like skeletons and old weapons, as I knew I would want to glue Tiamat on there pretty quickly once her body was complete.

At last, after more than a week of fairly consistent modelling and painting,  I was ready to begin final assembly! First, gluing her feet to the base and then aligning the heads with the necks (and pinning them as well)...

...then adding the tail assembly, as well as a bit of putty work for the gaps.

Finally, the wings, which were perhaps the hardest parts to align, particularly after reinforcing the joins with wire pins.

Some minor puttying and a few touch-ups, and Tiamat was complete at last! My satisfaction at seeing her completely finished and varnished was nothing compared to the surprise, horror and delight when I brought her to the tabletop at G&G a few days later.

By far the largest and most challenging model I have ever worked on, I am very pleased with how she turned out and with the reaction to her presentation. I have a hard time imagining using her again, but I won't lie, I am still working on it.

In the meantime, Tiamat has a place of honour on top of my figure case, and at least one visitor to the Batcave has recognized her, which is also highly gratifying.