Montreal

I am taking my vacation in Montreal. But instead of driving on Highway 401, I decided to take the majority of the drive along the old highways, the two lane ones, between the two cities. Instead of taking 5.5 hours, it took me seven. I passed by old farms, all with their crops in full bloom. I could see the typical small Ontario farm with the beat-down barn and a yard full of rusted machinery, dead cars and the occasional school bus on blocks. Taking the major highway, I never get to see these small towns and hamlets along the way. At high speeds, you are forced to stare straight ahead, stay in your lane and merge in perfect manner. At lower speeds, you can wind down the roads and look out the side to see the world pass. I decided to take the route just after Coburg. I was driving at 120 km/h. I saw a forest, then a river. I thought, I want to see some of that! Why do I have to drive so fast past it. At the next exit, I pulled out my map and decided to take the side roads. I'm on vacation. I'm in no hurry. And so I did. At one moment, at a dip in the road, I turned onto a gravel road that ran beside a corn field. I stopped the car, rolled down the windows, turned off my iPod and listened. Ah, there is so much between point A and point B.

Wedding Registry

Here's my purchase for a wedding registry. It the first time I've ever done this. I just click off what they want and buy it for them. So simple and efficient. Thank goodness marriage has hit the 21st century. Weddings 2.0.1

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1 PILLAR FRAME (3) 3X4" NIC $29.99
1 COVE MULTI FRAME ESPRESSO $34.99
1 MEAT THERMOMETER SS $20.99

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I tried, but failed to get the meat thermometer engraved with "hope your wedding is well done!"

Intersection

I was pedaling in downtown traffic on my bike, the sun bearing down on all of us. The air is choked with engine breath. I'm leaving work and making tactical decisions of life and death on the main streets, hoping to turn off onto side streets, the ones with the shade and the trees. I see the light about to change from green to red and I speed up to make it through without stopping. But, as traffic goes, I pull brake and rest my foot on the curb. I see a woman carrying a box.

"Mike!"

I look up. It's the woman with the box. She is someone I knew from school - maybe 12 years ago. She looks older. She tells me she has returned from travels to far continents. Her front tooth is chipped. Her face looks older. And for a brief moment I started to feel old and chipped as well. It was a like a collision with another car - only this is a collision memory, the hardness of time passing. Like hitting the ground and realizing the power of gravity and velocity.

"I found a baby pigeon," she says.

I open up the lid of the box and inside is another smaller box. She opens the box in the box and inside there is a small pigeon. She found it on the sidewalk on the way home. She is going to take it home and nurse it back to health.

"I'll feed it corn and water," she says.

I feel skeptical and say it might be good to call the veterinarian. Perhaps a human touch will make it worse, have it rejected.

"That's only for bird mothers who reject their young," she contents. She is very certain she will save this poor creature. If it doesn't work in a week, then she'll see. I wonder if she has also lost her mind - or does compassion require a degree of insanity.

"Oh look, it just peed," she whispers. "Poor thing."

She closes the box carefully and waits for the light to change to green. She says good bye. I wait for the light to let me go back on my way.