Apr 03

Wasn’t That A Party

Originally posted in June of 2012, I was going through and adding Amazon links to posts as people read them and this one came up today. By far my favourite night, and revisiting it has made me feel all happy and shit.

Well, we showed you the first batch of blissful photos from the wedding. Now you will get to see a bunch from the not so glamourous, but much more fun wedding dance. If you see yourself here, but don’t want your photo posted, please go to the Harass Us page and let us know. We can put a black circle over anyone’s head like it’s nobody’s business. I can’t imagine that anyone would have a problem, because like Gadget says: “If you go drinking with a photographer, and a guy with a blog, you have to expect to see yourself online.”

Totally accurate, and quite logical for a guy who wrote the C word on my arm at new years.

So now, without further ado, I give you some of the party pics.

I believe that Beaner is pretending to be a pterodactyl and Mrs. B is whatever the hell they eat.

Continue reading

Mar 11

Hello, I’m Steve Podborski

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That’s what I said to my beautiful wife when I I got to the bottom of the hill on Saturday.

This hill.

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Trixie, don’t mess up Aaron’s nice grooming job, and don’t try to eat his lunch.

Without falling.

That’s Williston Lake, and off to the left is the W.A.C. Bennett Dam. They are both pretty huge. The shack at the bottom is the power shed for the tow.

This is our ski hill.

This is from the other side.

This is from the other side of The Dam Run. Pretty clever, huh.

When we moved here, we heard about the volunteer-run ski hill. There is all kinds of stuff to keep yourself occupied in the summer around here, but the winter can get pretty dreary, so we decided to go to the AGM for the ski hill and see if we could help out.

Turns out we could.

Hello, my name is Chris, and I'll be your handle on the bum specialist today.

Hello, my name is Chris, and I’ll be your handle on the bum specialist today.

I know I have mentioned before how much I love this town that we live in, but I feel like I have to sing it’s praises a bit more. I have never lived anywhere with such community spirit and involvement. It’s a place that you just want to help out in. I look around all the time at people putting their heart into projects that benefit the whole community, and it makes me proud and happy to be here.

It’s a lot of responsibility to ensure that your community has a safe, fun place to spend their wintry weekends, so we were glad to be able to help out the amazing group of people that were running this club so smoothly.

Then we didn’t get any snow, and we lost hope. Oh, and Jenny is leaving, so that makes us sad too.

This is the last part of the beginner hill.

This is the last part of the hill that we named Darryl’s Elbow. Get it? I guess I should mention that without Darryl, this would not be here. Any of it.

Then, last week it snowed, and there was much celebration. Darryl, Aaron, and I went up to see a few inches of new powder on the hill, so we tuned up the lift and got it ready to open for the weekend. I was finally going to get to do some work at the hill when it was running. It was pretty spectacular.

This made everything worth it.

This made everything worth it.

At one point, we had seven kids going up the lift at one time, and I nearly wept with happiness. I’m almost crying now as I think about it. It’s hard for me to explain, but I think that being around people that give so much of themselves to a remote community really wears off on me. It’s a pretty amazing feeling when you are around them, and it’s not just the ski club. The town is full of groups that are trying to make a better place for themselves, and for the kids. Hockey, rec badminton, Rod and Gun Club, Book clubs, The Friends of Hudson’s Hope, Curling, and figure skating are a few that come to mind, but there are many more.

That’s pretty phenomenal for a town of around 1000 people that’s an hour from anywhere. I think these folks all deserve a pat on the back and a round of applause for their efforts, because in the end they are what brought us here, and also who make it easy to stay.

Here are a few of them. Notice they don't pose for photos properly. That's because they make the rules, not follow them.

Here are a few of them. Notice they don’t pose for photos properly. That’s because they make the rules, not follow them.

Now back to the title of this post.

At the end of Saturday, I strapped on the first set of skis to touch my feet in twenty years. I took three trips down the hill, and I didn’t fall once. Gerri was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill and told me that I looked like a natural, Steve Podborski was who came to mind. I guess because he was quite relevant the last time I was skiing.

When I first learned to ski, at Camborne Ski Club in the early 80s, I absolutely loved it. It was a little bigger than this is now, but it had the same, small town feel to it. The quiet, electric tow at our hill is much smoother than Kent Harper running the old rope tow in Camborne, but there was a charm to an old vehicle chassis with a makeshift wheel running a huge rope loop up a hill, that you don’t get nowadays. What with all the safety BS that’s around. I remember that if you didn’t grab fast enough, you could easily wear a pair of ski gloves out in a weekend. If you don’t believe me, or even if you do, check out This blog post that I found while researching.

Anyhow, over the next few years, we got a family membership to the Oshawa Ski Club, but I lost my love after Camborne shut down. By the time I hit high school, smoking and drinking took the place of everything else I loved as a kid. Sometimes I blame my dad for making us go all of the time, but in the end I’m sure I would have fell out of love with skiing on my own. Just like I did with hockey.

I'm afraid to go down The Energizer, even though the hydro poles have pads. Maybe next time.

I’m afraid to go down The Energizer, even though the hydro poles have pads. Maybe next time.

I’m falling back in love with it. Thank you, Hudson’s Hope.

Maybe hockey is next year. If I can find some old skates at the thrift store.

Birdman

P.S. Jenny is still leaving, so we are still sad. Our hopes are that she will miss us so much that her heart forces her to come back. At gunpoint, if need be.

Jun 05

Not My Night

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This is the most somber Birdman pic I could find.

I’m having a really shitty go of it this time, but of all shitty days and nights, tonight takes the cake for shittiness. I suppose that I have been extra depressed lately, what with the impending move across the country with my family in a bus, so that multiplies the shit exponentially, but holy fuck, really?

My night started as my work day ended, at about 5:00. I went home and finished watching the video that Mrs. B shared on G+. It was about the cool new ways that students are taught in the school district that the girls will be in next year. I tried to watch it while I was getting loaded at the pit, but it was hard with the rumble of diesels and always having to move ahead, so I went home and crashed into the bed under the ceiling fan to cool down and check out the video.

Then the crying started. Not the same crying as the night before, but still a grown man lying in bed with tears streaming down his face.1)luckily the box of crackers was still on the nightstand.

This was me crying about how much further I might have made it in school if we had as many forward thinkers back then, as they do in this area now, and also because I was so happy that people were finally figuring shit out. It’s been a lot of years with the same mentality towards teaching, and nothing was ever getting better. At least not from my perspective.

Now I think there’s hope. Not for the rest of my night, but for our future as a country.

As I finished blubbering, Johnny called to say that he had made these pizza egg rolls and if I wanted to try them, I had better get down there. I then called my sweetest love in the world, and interrupted the birthday party she was attending. She said that she would call me back, so I headed to Chubbie’s to try out these new tidbits.2)They were fucking delicious.

I then went to work to get my phone charger, and figured I’d see if my little truck would miraculously run now. Nope. Thanks for proving that miracles don’t exist, Jesus.

After that, I was going home to grab a shower and hit the sack early, when Johnny called and asked me to get something out of the freezer to thaw for him, I went home, and then in the spirit of helping a friend, I decided to go drop it off to him to save him the trip.

I should have just stayed home.

When I pulled up at the back of the restaurant, I left my car running and my phone on the charger. I ran into the shop and delivered the goods while stealing a pop. I walked back to the door and stopped to shoot the shit for a few minutes. When I went back to the car, I noticed that the door was locked and my phone was gone. Someone had leaned in the open window and snagged it. They also dropped a crumpled up paper towel on the driver’s seat.

I immediately assumed it was our friend David, because that would be a prank that he would do, but it wasn’t. I got John’s phone, called it uselessly and logged in to my Google account, so I could track it. It was one street over, so I took off down the alley, ready to punch the first person I saw with it, but there was nobody there. I met John as I was walking back, and then his phone rang. Someone had brought the phone into the pizza shop.

Yayyy.

I went back and the guy was still there, and pretty hammered. He told us that he saw a drunk native guy grab it out of my car and he followed him until the guy threw it away by the TD bank. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt, even though I am pretty sure he was the one that stole it, so I bought him a pizza.

It is sad that people find it so easy to blame the drunk native people, even though this guy was a drunk whitey that didn’t have enough money for a pop. He was talking about how he had just came from his buddy’s place after helping him change the springs in his drag car, which brought me back to the paper towel. When I looked at it, I immediately thought that it was mine from when I was working on the truck earlier. Most guys will recognize a dry paper towel that was used to wipe rust and dirt off of a pair of hands.

The problem was that I had used wet wipes, not paper towel.

Oh well, I got my phone back, and someone hungry got to eat. I left for that shower and my bed, and then this happened.

What fun!

What fun!

Yep. While I was frantically racing around looking for my phone, my tire was getting flatter. I went around the corner and it poked a bunch of holes in the inside sidewall. Yahoo.

The good news is that I will be getting new tires, and not a new phone. The bad news is that I have to get new tires, then new studded tires this winter. I was hoping these would last, but with an eternal slow leak on the driver’s side, and now this, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. Tires are pretty important.

Oh, and when I got home, the post I had been writing offline got hidden in the computer during important updates. I’ll have to spend a bit of time looking for that I guess. Or try to rewrite.

Ah well, hopefully your day went smoother than mine.

18 MORE DAYS, BABY!

Birdman

P.S. The internet is working again.

Awesome footnotes   [ + ]

1. luckily the box of crackers was still on the nightstand.
2. They were fucking delicious.
Apr 24

I’ll Email You

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No, not the Two Girls, One Cup video. That was done to me once and I’m still afraid to yawn in public.

My blogmeister friend, Jack has recently started using a plug in called Postmatic to change the way interactions work on his blog. Check him out over at The Jack B and see what you think of his set up. While you’re there, read some of his posts, he has a lot to choose from and he knows what he’s doing.

It’s no secret that I enjoy interacting with most of you, and that I would lov e to get more than an occasional thumbs up or +1 after you have read a post. This new system would send the post to your email if you subscribe to the blog, and then allow you to reply to the email instead of having to click the link and go to the blog to leave a comment.

Do you think that it would be something you would find hip and cool? As cool as Crazy Horses by The Osmonds?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. Nothing is that cool

I try to ignore the fact that they are probably the reason that boy bands became a thing. Well, them and The fucking Monkees.

So last night I went over to Beatbox’s place and he set up my Android TV for me. It is the most beautiful and complex piece of machinery I have ever used and it brings out the nerd in me faster than seeing Han Solo in the new Star Wars trailer. I look forward to a long life of constant upgrades with this baby, and if wasn’t so late, I would have stuck around and rubbed beard oil into his luscious batch of chin whiskers for all the help he gave me.

You can find this shit HERE

You can find this shit HERE

They have some pretty cool stuff for dudes there, and a few fancy things for the ladies. It’s all handmade goodness, too.

Yes, I’m still anti-Walmart and pro small business. Call it a sickness, if you want, but I don’t think that I will ever change my ways. I just can’t see how a global economy helps us as a country. If you can explain it to me, I will try to listen.

Anyhow, my feet are getting cold. I think I’ll go and warm them up on Mrs. Birdman’s legs. She’s like a furnace.

Birdman

May 05

I’m Going Back To The Land

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But not in a good way.

Yet.

I’m heading back out west in the morning, and I’m not looking forward to it. I know that I never am, but this time it seems harder. Like having to cut off your own leg kind of harder.

I guess everything is harder when I think about it. Life just seems to get tougher as you get older. Better, but tougher nonetheless. Take the internet for example. It’s here to make our lives better, and in some ways it does. I couldn’t imagine not being able to look up anything that I wondered about at the drop of a hat. The knowledge that I gain from having that privilege is immense.

Then there is the part of the internet that isn’t quite as helpful, but helps to pass the time. You know, for when you are bored, sitting on the toilet, or maybe don’t feel like going out on a Friday night.

Social Media.

Sure it lets you keep up to date with who and what your friends are doing, what coffee and supper looks like, and how cute cats are, but it doesn’t take much to get addicted to it. I know. It happened to me.

As most of you probably know, I quit Facebook recently. Strangely enough, I don’t miss it. I miss a lot of the people, but some of the important ones have joined G+, and the ones who didn’t probably don’t need to get a hold of me anyhow.

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I watched this yesterday. Two days after telling Mrs. Birdman that Twitter was getting the axe next. They have been ticking me off lately, what with them sending me notifications about who all of my followers are following. Like I care that they’ve all decided to follow Visa back, or whatever the case may be. Oh, and I have just figured out that there is no value in it for me. Anyhow, this really hit home.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and one was that I need to stop wasting time online. There’s life out there, and procrastinating with my face tanned from the glow of my phone screen isn’t helping anything. I like information, and I need to start using the internet for what it was made for, which I’m certain isn’t trading cat photos and masturbation.

I need to start using the few years that I have left to do things.

Big things.

Important things.

Things like growing food, creating, and enjoying my time with friends and loved ones, which I suppose are one in the same. I love my family, and shouldn’t be spending my time socking away as many hours as I can work, so that I can come home and be depressed about either having no money, or having to leave the love of my life to go back to work in an industry that I only partially agree with.

For twenty some odd years, I have been thinking, wishing, and dreaming about buying a piece of property for cash and building an earthship home on it. Granted, that would take a lot more money than we have, so I guess we’ll have to just keep on working and dreaming. Dreaming of the day where I can get up in the morning, collect the eggs, move the chicken house over to some fresh grass, and empty the compost toilet.

A lot of people don’t understand the appeal of it, but I know that there are a lot that do, so I know I’m not alone. As I was researching I came across this guy.

His videos were interesting, especially this one. I can relate to his feelings, but not to his past. I find it interesting that so many people from such different walks of life are interested in the shift to more simple living. There are doctors, lawyers, truckers, and probably any other occupation that you can think of that just want to get the hell out of the rat race and slow down to a snail’s pace. I think it’s got to be that people are stopping to think about what they’re doing and realizing that everything that they have been taught all of their life is a big load of BS.

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

Whatever the individual reasons are, I am very happy to see people figuring things out, even if it is such a tiny percentage. People can see that things need to change and they are effecting the change themselves. That makes my heart smile.

Anyhow, I should go crawl into bed with the most beautiful soul that a person could know, and see if I can get my feet warmed up. I’ve got a long day of travelling and feeding the corporate machines.

For now.

Birdman