Maxed Out

Welcome, Ironpeople. So good of all you to drop by for the weekend. For our part, we're closing the highway after you're all here and we've doubled down on good weather so nobody begins to rust.

I try. Lord knows I try. Every summer I try to step lightly around the goings on at muni hall. It's a good season to mostly ignore what's happening in town and, truth be told, not a half-bad season to simply get out of Dodge.

Slamming a revolving door. Sneezing with your eyes open. Travelling backwards or forwards through time. Tickling yourself. Counting by single integers to infinity. Frankensteining: brining the dead back to life. Licking your elbow.

I have a theory about child rearing. Chances are I have a theory because I don't have a child. If I had a child, I wouldn't need a theory, I'd have an uncontrolled experiment in progress and no time or ability to theorize.

Gardening has, at a minimum, two fundamental flaws. The first is, it's an obscene amount of work. Gardening generates way more sweat and toil than anything generally thought of as a pastime or hobby should.

Legend has it Orion, the hunter in Greek and Roman mythology, was a giant of a man. Of course, during the time of Orion, anything over five-foot-two would have been considered a giant of a man, Cyclops notwithstanding.

School daze, school daze. What to do about school daze. The Whistler Task Force on Learning & Education — yes, that's learning & education, not learning and education, meh — delivered its report to Council last week.

"What the heck happened to Wet Coast endless, drizzling spring?" I was thinking to myself. One day fleeced up, the next a case of nascent heat stroke in search of a cold beer in a resort town post-long weekend with nary a shady patio seat in sight.

When I heard — and I've admittedly been a bit out of touch lately — Whistler was going to be redistricted out of the federal West Vancouver - Sunshine Coast - Sea to Sky riding and into one that ran over the Duffey, down the Fraser Canyon

Note to reader: I'm on a sailboat somewhere in the appropriately named Desolation Sound area wondering when/whether summer will ever arrive in B.C.