IRT: It’s Not the Same Without Lisa

Did you get watching Ice Road Truckers the past few seasons? I did. I put the show on one night while channel flipping. I thought it would be ok, better than anything else I flipped past. (I don’t want crime shows).

I became a fan of Ice Road Truckers for three people on the show that season: Alex Debogorski,  Ray Veilleux, the main one was Lisa Kelly. There she was, a girl pretty enough to be on TV – not the kind of girl you would expect to be driving a truck, a big, real truck. I liked her just for that. As I began watching the show regularly I would be glued to the screen when Lisa was on. Most of the time I could listen in the background. But, when Lisa was on, I had to watch. How would she handle that flapping. loose strap? How would she deal with the big tippy load? How was she working with all those guys and coming out on top, respected by most of them?

I was proud of a woman I’ve never met. I watched the spin-off shows, Deadliest Roads because Lisa was there. I even sent her a note on Twitter one night when I was particularly proud of how well she handled those dark, deep tunnels – in spite of having the load she was carrying wind up headless at the very end. (Not even from the tunnels but a bridge they had to go over to get into town).

Anyway, Lisa isn’t on the latest season of Ice Road Truckers. Disappointing. I won’t say I won’t watch the show, but… it just won’t be all that interesting without Lisa to cheer on her adventures.

Another Paper Box

I’ve got a crayon box sitting on my desk. It had Crayola markers in it, 64 of them. One of them, garden green, has no colour and I’m going to send an email to Crayola about that. Maybe I will even get that done, off my to-do list, tonight.

I’m just looking at this box and thinking about the paper/ cardboard used to make this box which is now disposable. Thinking about all the years we had boxes of crayons, pencil crayons and pens and threw away boxes. Often they were kind of ripped up cause I did try to keep mine all tidy in their box as long as I could. But the box never could outlast a pencil case or metal crayon box (usually a cookie tin left over from Christmas).

Does it make anyone else feel kind of sad to think of the trees cut down to make packaging which we throw out soon after we bring the stuff home?

A crayon box isn’t big. One crayon box is just one crayon box. But, we bought a new bathtub for the renovations to add an apartment to the basement and that was a really big box, for one home, one family. It had to be strapped to the roof of a friend’s van to bring it here. The empty box had to be folded several times to fit into the trunk of the car. The recycling truck which picks up our cereal boxes, milk cartons and newspapers, would not take the bathtub box. The man on the truck explained that it would not fit on their truck. The box would take up too much space and they would not have enough room to load all the recyclables from the houses on their usual run. We would have to drive that box to the dump.

To the dump? That doesn’t sound like recycling.

So that isn’t what we did. I folded and semi-crushed that box until I could smoosh it into the trunk of the car. Then we drove it to the massive store (one of those huge parking lots with a row of massive chain stores to one side) where we had bought the bathtub. I dragged that box out of the car and put it into a handy shopping cart in the parking lot. I left it there. My small protest to too much packaging and the waste of too many trees.

This crayon box is still on my desk though. Still making me feel sad for the part of a tree it once was. Never to be a tree again. Was it worth it? To be cut down, pulverized, painted and folded and then stuffed with crayons only to be bought and then discarded? I don’t think so.

We need different packaging. Why can’t crayons be sold in a tin box which would last longer and not become dog earred and torn. A tin box could go to school and stay in a locker and then come home again. A tin box could last a kid from grade one to high school and beyond. The tin box could outlast the original crayons and end up holding pens and pencils when that kid starts their first job in some cubicle or something more interesting and unique. A tin box could be passed on to children of that child and then grandchildren. A tin box would only increase in value and be something treasured if it was kept by the family.

This cardboard box is never going to be any of those things. If I don’t take it to the blue box it will just be landfill, un-needed and unnecessary landfill. We have an overflow of landfill of this kind already.

So here is this one box. One box isn’t much. Like one tree in a forest, it’s just one and when it’s gone it makes a bit of room for saplings to reach up through the space and grab some sun for themselves. The problem is that it’s not just one tree or one box.

Think about all the packaging we take for granted, don’t even see it as we go through our day to day lives. There is such a ton of it. In a week you might be throwing away a whole tree. But, one tree isn’t much. Right?

Barrie is Misspelled

It should be bury. More snow today. If it would just go away for awhile I’d have some time to miss it.

One of the interesting things about living in a house with a tin/ metal roof versus the usual tar variation are the mini avalanches. When you least suspect it a train seems to slide right off the roof. It is very loud from inside, I wonder if it is that loud from outside. No doubt police will be called if the whole train crashes all at once. I hope all the chimney type things and the satellite can survive the avalanches all winter up there. It’s kind of fun now that I know what it is. First time I thought a dump truck must have plowed into our house. I went and looked out all the windows just to be sure. That’s when I noticed all the snow and ice recently fallen in a huge pack load. I may not be brilliant but I can figure things out, eventually.

Art and Car Wreckage

I first found out about art cars years ago from some site or other. Then I went and found several sites and pictures of very assorted art cars. Tonight I found a link to Cars in Barns. You just know I can’t resist a site about abandoned wreckage. I’m already planning my next adventure into derelict buildings. This time I will go inside, all those little creatures can just bite me. Well, they can try. I will bring something to scare them away. I hope.

Anyway, here are some car art examples from Burning Man.

How would you decorate your car? Assuming it didn’t have to be entirely road worthy, and you didn’t need to worry about picking up a truck load of children from soccer, etc. I’d make mine into a ladybug (vibrant red) with a garden on top. Think massive wooden violets, sweet william, tulips and so on, surrounded by a white picket fence. Maybe even a bird or some other creature sitting on my fence. I think I’d like a blue jay, not just any wussy bird.

A Pukable Offense

I’ve never been into that whole drinking, intending to get drunk, making an ass of yourself and puking thing. Actually, my Uncle was an alcoholic. It wasn’t the drinking that turned me off it was the way he treated people. I spent a lot of family holiday dinners as the one he talked at, leaned over/ on, argued with, accidentally injured physically and so on. There was no joy in mudville.

My Mother (as it turns out) never even knew about all the times I was stuck babysitting him. I used to be angry at her cause she and the rest of them would go to bed and leave him there. I couldn’t ever do that for some oddly sick reason. I was so relieved when he finally decided to go to bed or realized it was beginning to get light outside and sent me to bed. I think looking after a drunk like that would cure just about anyone of ever wanting to become shit faced themselves.

I do like a drink, sometimes an Irish coffee when I’m out somewhere. Maybe a white wine or two at family dinners. But, I never go beyond a gentle buzz, which is one or two drinks for me. I did drink too much once when I was a teenager. I didn’t do it intentionally I just pushed the boundaries. I was at home and babbled to my Mother, a lot of things I wouldn’t have told her otherwise, a lot of personal thoughts. In the morning I felt like I was going to puke and I had a headache for most of the day.

Anyway, I have no sympathy for drunks. I no longer get stuck babysitting them or silently tolerating them (I avoid bars or “parties” where people will be drinking). Sometimes I end up in a place where someone has become a drunken ass. Just watching them makes me so angry I have to leave before I push them in front of a large speeding truck. Yes, I have issues.

Next time you’re busy getting shit faced you might want to think about the people who have to deal with you. Do they really like you THAT much? Do they really want to deal with you now or the next morning?

Drinking and driving is another whole ball of wax. I have a zero tolerance there. Taking away a driver’s license is a joke. I think they should be tossed in shark infested water, that would sober them up pretty darn quick. See if you can drive home now, asshole.

Crossed the Border

Crossed the Border
12/12/00 11:50 am

Here I am, sitting in front of my poor email clogged computer in Illinois. Todd is off to work. My brother and I are supposed to meet him for lunch so we can pick up the marriage license. No sign of Graham so far. But after two solid days of driving he is likely sleeping late. I would have gone back to bed too but I have too much to do. Of course, that isn’t stopping me from putting most of it off. 🙂

The border crossing was not a problem. No one looked at my list of stuff and we had the back of the truck well packed with stuff. I crossed at the Detroit tunnel and was stamped without having to ask for it. I think the only thing I was asked was just a confirmation of Todd’s name and our address here.

In the interview at the consulate they didn’t care that Todd didn’t have 3+ years of taxes done. I brought it up when they were collecting the papers and I said we did have the letter from his employer and his bank. The man collecting the papers read the letters and commented that they really like him at work. They do. 🙂 Maybe my bringing it up first was good or maybe having the two letters was more important.

Nothing else about the crossing over stands out in my mind. The customs person in the booth said Graham, my brother, should not go in with me. But the ladies in the parking area sent him in with me. Then inside we just happened to hit on the change of guards and we had the same man we met in the booth when we pulled up. We crossed just before 4 in the afternoon on Sunday.

The wedding is planned for the 14th. Less than a week before my birthday which is one week before Christmas. Its going to be a full month.

Read more of these old posts – Our Adventures with the Fiancé Visa (2000 – 2002)