I just came across this organic gardening tidbit in New England Aquarium's Blue magazine:
Slugs in your garden? No problem. [...] Sink small plastic containers into your soil [and] fill each one with 1–2 inches of beer. Check for drowned slugs every morning. For best results, place your traps every few feet and use Michelob or Budweiser.
Final proof to discriminating Canadian beer connoisseurs that mainstream American beer really is drinkable!
I remember hearing this quote some years ago, and it stuck in my head:
I am an optimist. It does not seem too much use being anything else. – Winston Churchill
I just finished reading that pop-social-science bestseller The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference (by Malcolm Gladwell), and like most high-aspiring popular books it was a fun, quick read — but it also got me thinking (again) about the idea of incorporating low-level activism into one's everyday behaviours.
Gladwell's thesis is that social trends spread like an epidemic due to certain conditions, including the "stickiness" of the idea, but also (and critically) due to the actions of certain people who have influential roles. It is, largely, a book about the nature of social networks. If the right people spread t he right idea, it takes off and becomes incorporated into society as a whole.
I am, as pretty much everybody who reads this knows, a fairly vehement biker. I like bikes, I like biking, but I also see a huge potential for everyday bicycling as a solution to many, many problems — be it issues of the environment, health, traffic congestion, what have you. What's more, riding a bike feels great. I see everyday bicycling as something that the average person could enjoy, were they to regard it as part of everyday life, rather than a fringe lifestyle choice. I would like to be part of a social epidemic that results in more widespread use of cycling.
Now, the obvious way to help bring this about is to become a bike activist—you know, join bike lobby groups, petition for more paths and lanes, hand out leaflets to passers-by, etc. All of that is important, but this book made me realize that perhaps the "tipping point" can be achieved at a much lower level.
I began to think about how I got into biking: I remember, sometime after Grad school, encountering a bank manager at a temp job. While other managers were ill-tempered, brown-nosing golfers (I exaggerate to make a point), this manager was youthful (but not young), optimistic, open-minded, confident, and cool. And he said "if you had told me a year ago that I would be biking to work, I would have thought you were nuts." I didn't cycle then, but he planted the idea that anyone—even a bank manager—could get to work on a bike.
Several years later, I was starting to think that one day, when I had the time and money, and got up the courage, maybe I would get a bicycle, and maybe I would try riding it to work. Then, one day, Dave who lived in my co-op suddenly gave me his bike. Dave was an avid cyclist and was upgrading to something nicer and gave me his really nice Giant Sedona. I knew Dave only as a good acquaintance, so this was an amazing act of generosity.
I started to bike to work, at first tentatively, once a week, then several times a week but not in bad weather and stopping in winter, then eventually year-round. By the time I had left Toronto, biking was the most natural, default way of getting to work. I'd been infected!
The Bank Manager and Dave, effectively, were bike activists. They spread the idea not by cajoling me, but simply by showing me that it was possible, and giving me the means to incorporate this idea into my life.
This week I took my Massachusetts bike map to work at lunchtime — it shows all the bike-friendly routes in the area — and for a brief moment, people were gathered around, finding their homes on the map and looking at the various ways they could cycle to work, at least in principle. A couple of them asked me where I bought the map.
Biking as everyday transportation is unheard of (even feared) here in the MA burbs, but maybe — just maybe — one of them will take the plunge and try it.
I just got off the phone with Sam and Ben, who are in Vancouver with G. (I'm still in Massachusetts for the next couple of weeks)
Call me crazy, but I fear that the grandparents are starting to have an influence:
"So how are you, Sam?" I asked.
"Beny pooped in the potty for the first time, and for a prize we got a DAMN SPEEDBOAT."
"You got what as a prize?"
"A DAMN SPEEDBOAT. It has a battery, and now it doesn't work. But Grandpa Ted says he'll make us a wood speedboat that we can pull that's better than the DAMN SPEEDBOAT."
"Hmmm, I see. Well, what else have you been doing?"
"We're at Abuelita Marta's place. And do you know what she has? A cuckoo clock! Isn't that amazing!"
"Wow, that is amazing, Sam! And what does it do?"
"Nothing, it doesn't work, it's broken. But even though its key is broken, it moved. Do you know what that is?"
"What?"
"A miracle!"
Did you know that 4 of the last 7 American Presidents were left handed? Statistically, there should be only one for every 7 or 8 presidents.
And here's the kicker: both McCain and Obama are left-handed.
Here's a blog post on the subject
I've been thinking about the whole Flag thing lately, and I'm beginning to wonder if we've had it wrong this whole time.
When we (Canadians) come to the U.S., I think we tend to be struck by the number of flags, and associate that with a fervent nationalism. But I'm beginning to wonder if that's an assumption -- Culture 101 says we use symbols for lots of reasons.
Here's a thought: don't we deck the halls each year with Christmas paraphernalia? For a whole month? A visitor coming to Canada at Christmas would assume that Canada was an extremely religious Christian society.
The little Anthropologist in my ear (who's in Vancouver now, by the way) would probably roll her eyes and patiently explain that the flag means different things for different people at different times in different contexts.
Fair enough, but I'm still curious: does the national flag as emblem mean something different in Canada than the U.S.? Is the quantity of flags in the U.S. significant in terms of patriotic pride, or is it just a more versatile symbol?
Tomorrow being July 4, everybody was packing it home early for the long weekend. My colleague and office-neighbour ducked his head in on his way out.
"Being Canadian, I guess you won't be celebrating, but I gather you had a holiday earlier this week."
"Yes! Canada Day was on, um, Tuesday I think" I said.
"And what happened July 1st?" he asked.
I thought about this a while. "Um, not sure; maybe our confederation was signed?" I thought about it some more but couldn't recall. "So, what about in the U.S.? What happened on July 4th - the signing of the declaration of independence?"
"Um, not sure. Maybe."
We stood there a moment, trying to remember our respective national histories.
"Oh well! Have a great long weekend!"
"You too! See you Monday!"
I've noticed a certain "battle of the euphemisms" when it comes to Canada vs. the U.S. Apparently neither of us like to explicitly describe what really goes on in the lavatory / toilet / whatever -- but we cover it up in a different way.I've had to train myself out of asking people where the "washroom" is -- they just stare at me blankly. 'Round these parts it's the restroom.
However, rest assured that "bathroom" still works internationally in English-speaking North America. Kind of silly, since most don't have a bathtub, but there you go.
On a slightly different note, if you're Canajun, don't even think about asking for "whole wheat" toast -- it's brown toast.
Hope you found this post fascinating and informative.
