Maxed Out

"Blow up your TV, Throw away your paper, Go to the country, build you a home. Plant a little garden, Eat a lot of peaches, Try to find Jesus on your own.

Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I'm pretty sure that was the high point of George Orwell's Animal Farm . Either that or never trust talking animals.

A number of years ago, way back when the word "overtourism" had never been uttered on these shores and Tiny Town yearned for more and more visitors, back when there were shoulder seasons and many businesses more or less shut down to renovate or give

Cold and dry. That's the way it started. Cold and dry. We rolled past Halloween with gardens still, well, if not in bloom, at least still largely green. We watched the jet stream drive storms south of us.

The sound of one hand clapping is, of course, the virtually inaudible sound of a small volume of air being displaced, which is to say, silence.

It was a week I wish I'd worn another layer—skiing on what looked like a warm day but wasn't.

I'd like to begin this week's column by, uncharacteristically, apologizing. I'm apologizing for last week's column, "Housing solutions need creativity," April 4. It didn't turn out to be the column I wanted to write. It was a bit academic.

Notwithstanding the drawbacks of success, Whistler is a place that endlessly leaves me awestruck. What's been accomplished here, in a span of less than 60 years, is without precedent in Canada and, likely, North America.

I was tempted to wade into a third part of the Annals of Ignorance this week, but giving the topic more thought, decided arrogance was the human frailty that lay at the heart of this missive more accurately than ignorance.

An open mind is a terrible thing to waste. Once closed, it's a bear to reopen. Ego closes in around it like scar tissue. A decision has been made. A mind's been made up.