Pique'n Yer Interest

Whistler does a lot of things well, but one area we apparently suck is in training and developing our own people to take over the top positions in town.

Officially and otherwise, it is fall. Everyone is burrowing. Everyone is infected. Leaves have long since heralded their inevitable departure. Ski movie premieres blossom on screens everywhere.

I've written the main feature in this week's Pique , something I love to do because when you crank out 2,000-plus words you can really explore a subject and be a little more creative with the writing.

A couple of weeks ago I found myself on the other side of a note pad.

My little girl is going to school for the first time next week, but don't expect me to cry about it.

My partner and I drove across the Great White North this summer. Whistler to Toronto, the long way around through Ottawa, some 5,500 kilometres.

An observant and cynical circus owner once remarked: "There's a sucker born every minute.

(Making a case for music festivals)

Some matters reach a tipping point where the outcome is inevitable, although a few stick-in-the-muds usually succeed in making those things drag on forever. Human social evolution is a slow process.

Last year I wrote a funny-ish piece in this space about what to do with the tsunami of tsunami debris expected to hit the west coast of North America in the next few months. It contained a lot of ha ha ha.