Author: eightbeer_shakespeare@outlook.com

I wrote a story about being mentally blank a while ago, mostly as it pertained to the interview I took to get my current job.  Looking back, it was the beginning of something larger and scarier.  For the next six weeks or so after that interview, I continued to get less and less focused.  I was leaving things laying around, forgetting conversations I had just had, stuff like that.  I once tried to get out of the car but couldn’t because my seat belt was still done up.  If I put my keys in my pocket, I would basically do the Macarena where I had to stick my hand in every pocket twice to find them.  Just before Christmas it got to its worse point.  One morning I got to work and left the interior light on in my car and wandered off into the office.  Of course, I needed a jump start after my shift.  Then the next day I did almost exactly the same thing with my work truck and needed a jump, too.  Then I threw away my work ID badge and fob by accident.  I was frustrated, embarrassed and anxious.  What was going on?  Was I starting to suffer from Alzheimer’s?  Few things in this world scare the crap out of me like dementia.

I was pleased to see that one of the early signs of Alzheimer’s was falling down frequently, which I didn’t have.  I had some of the other symptoms, but not all of them.  I researched side effects of the medicine I take for diabetes and found that the only one that listed “confusion, memory problems and trouble concentrating” was glyburide.  Glyburide is an old drug, developed in the mid 1960’s, that stimulates insulin production.   Coincidentally, not long before this I took a test to see how much insulin my body was producing, and it turns out it was producing a normal amount.  My diabetes, according to the test, was due to insulin resistance.  The question was, did I produce enough insulin to give up taking the drug?

Over Christmas I decided to take a little holiday from glyburide.  Over the ten or so days off I watched in horror as my blood sugar went from 7 or 8 mmol/l, which is high but not crazy, to the 15-16 range, then up to 25-26 , then finally so high my monitor only read HI without giving a number.  Normal blood sugar should be between 4 and 6.  After a week or so I was forced to start taking my brain food again, but my mind was a lot clearer from being off it a while.
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And then… a few weeks later I lost my ID badge and fob again.  This time it might just have been a one time thing, as it was an isolated incident, so far.  Next month I see my doctor again, and this time she might prescribe me insulin like she’s been threatening, and it may mean I can do away with glyburide for good.

And then, god willing, I can get back to writing stuff and getting through the day without doing anything stupid.

Well it’s time to tally up the BC 50/50 winnings from the little villages that do the winning.  I had a question for the Lottery Corporation, and I only got an answer from them yesterday morning, which is why this took a week to get started on.  In the last six months of 2018, the village with the big winnings was Pemberton, winning almost $23,000 more than Burns Lake in the same period.  In fact, the gap is actually even wider, but I started out by only counting wins made at the Pemberton Petro Can gas station.  It doesn’t change much, though, as almost all of the town’s winning tickets were bought there, with a couple wins from the Frontier Pharmacy not included.  For the whole year, Burns Lake was still the champ, but it was close.  First, the facts:

July:  Burns Lake won 8 draws, $25,109.50, Pemberton 6 wins, $17,306

August:  Burns Lake 3 wins, $11,380.50, Pemberton 4 wins, $13,732

September: Burns Lake only 2 wins, $4,210.50, Pemberton 7 wins for $19,770.50

October: Burns Lake 3 wins, $5667, Pemberton 6 wins, $23,272.50

November: BL 9 wins, $44,985.50, Pemberton 8 wins, $43,496

December: both towns must have been on holidays after all the money they won in November, as each town only won one draw, BL for $6219 and Pemberton for $2732.50.

Total for the six months: Burns Lake 26 wins for $97,572, Pemberton 32 wins for $120,309.50.

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Here is the info that the BC Lottery Corp sent me in response to my question about how much the average 50/50 win is and how it has increased since its inception.  No matter what I do, I can’t seem to make it any clearer.  It looks great until it gets inserted into this story.

 

If your best spectacles aren’t handy, it says the average win has doubled in the last four years.

The BC 50/50 started a couple days before Halloween 2012.  It replaced the Sportsfunder 50/50 that used to draw every half an hour, and at off peak times often had prizes of $10 or less.  I won it a couple times, $33 once and I think $11 another time, when I had to fish my ticket out of the trash at the pub.  The BC 50/50 only had four draws a day, so the prize was much higher, even at the beginning it was usually over $800, even in the slowest times.  Oh, except for the first time I won it when it was nearly at its lowest ever point, $671.50.

The first year or so, the little town that was winning like crazy was Fort St James, population 1700.  They won like Burns Lake for a while, then they petered out.  Even at the start it was dominated by small towns and obscure gas stations.  Maybe someone moved from Fort St James to Burns Lake around 2015?  Of the larger cities only Kamloops and Victoria seem to win their share.  If Vancouver, Surrey or Burnaby supported this lottery the way Burns Lake and Pemberton do, the prizes would be huge.

 

Fall has got to be my least favourite season.  The pretty colours?  The dropping temperatures?  Those are all signs of nature dropping dead before our eyes.  Sure, it is a cycle, and sooner or mostly later it bounces back and blooms and produces tasty food again.  But still, I find it mildly depressing to witness.  Add to that the fact I work outside and have an hour drive wrapped around my day at work like a commuter sandwich.  These days I leave in the dark and come home in the dark.  Golf is a distant memory, as is sitting on the patio with a beer.  Some days I get a good soaking at work and have to stand under the hot shower for a while to thaw out my bones.

It’s a lousy backdrop, but it’s almost ready to give way to winter, and life continues to be mostly happy and interesting despite what’s happening outside.  Hockey is in full swing, and already my favourite teams are in power nose dives heading for the bottom of the standings and oblivion, yet it still holds my interest for some reason.  I get to see a lot of some of my kids and their kids which is nearly always a good thing.  Christmas will be here in five weeks or so, and my birthday follows along 16 days after that.  By the time the last of the wrapping paper is being hauled away in the recycling, the days will already be getting longer.

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I wonder sometimes if my cat is happy.  She doesn’t associate with other cats.  At home she is chased around by a mini Frankenstein toddler who terrorizes her.  She hardly goes outside in the cold, dark or rain.  She doesn’t hunt or do crossword puzzles.  Mostly she sleeps and eats kibble and watches people from a safe distance with a scowl.  She likes me, however, and it is a definite mixed blessing.  Everywhere I go in the house, the cat is a few feet away, waiting for me to sit down so she can curl up on me.  Sometimes she heads off to sleep, other times she tears at me with her claws and purrs.  It is too much neediness for me.  I am patient with her, but I really wish she’d expand her horizons and claw someone else once in a while.  My day is long enough without having some love starved cat cling to me like the last chopper out of Saigon.  At Christmas we are lodging another cat for a couple weeks, and our cat will be distraught.  The other cat and our cat don’t get along, and the other cat bullies our cat.  It’s too bad they aren’t pals, but maybe she will be too distracted to follow me around for a few blissful days.

This summer I got a lesson in why weddings are so expensive and nerve wracking.  For weeks we trimmed, landscaped, hung lights and planned, shopped, built and fretted.  Then, when that was done, we undid what we had and re-landscaped, re-hung the lights and fretted some more.  For the most part it was my wife and I and the bride and groom to be – my son James and his fiancee Lindsey, but a couple times we had gatherings of friends and family to help.  The first such gathering was a disaster by any definition.  It poured rain when it hadn’t rained in weeks.  Then the next day, virtually everyone who had come over got sick with the flu.  No one actually did any yelling at us, but I feel there was a simmering anger out there from some people who, in some cases, missed several days of work.

We were watching the forecast nervously, as it changed back and forth in the week or so leading up to the big day, calling for sun then rain and sometimes one website would forecast one and another would contradict it.  Finally, with a few days to go, the sites all started to agree: it was going to rain, or at least be showery.  So we ordered up a 20′ x 40′ tent and redid the lighting yet again.  The end result was pretty impressive, I think.  We zap strapped rope lights in a big X over head inside the tent, which looked cool and threw lots of light.  We had the yard framed in curtains of lights in all the surrounding trees too.  For the ceremony, we built an 8′ x 8′ stage hung with a lacy curtain and footed with pleated gold fabric.  At the back of the stage were more lights which we turned on at dark.

It rained during the ceremony, which they say is a good omen: knots that are tied wet are tighter and harder to undo.  I felt bad for the maid of honour.  No doubt she spent a lot of time and possibly money to look as good as she did, then in the big moment all she could do was stand helplessly to the side of the stage and get rained on.  Someone did run over and hand her an umbrella, but she had absorbed a lot of rain by then.  My son got pretty choked up reading his vows.  I will never give him a hard time about it, because I couldn’t even go to the mike and say a speech for them.  Merely the thought of it choked me up.  I had to make do by writing a speech, which the other kids helped edit, and I stood far away and watched it read.  What a chicken!  Lucky I didn’t put out an eye with my feathers.  Years ago, at my niece’s wedding, I was talked into speaking and what I said was so short and choppy my sister called it a haiku.

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The rest of the event went beautifully.  We ate, there were some touching speeches (the woman who lives directly behind us told us she was listening through the trees to the speeches and they got her crying), and then the drinking and socializing got going.  Everyone was on their best behaviour, and there were a few mismatches of personalities that could have clashed but didn’t.  It was a nice beginning to their lives together.

The next day we had to clean up a lot of stuff, most of it soggy and wet.  It was reminiscent of the aftermath of Woodstock, but thankfully on a much smaller scale.  But the keg was still half full, and there were lots of leftovers to eat, so things were still pretty good.

Well my big summer of major distractions is coming to an end.  It was a beautiful summer, lots of hot days and sunshine for many weeks on end, but it didn’t really turn out the way I expected on a couple of fronts.

First, our house didn’t sell.  We had the paperwork all signed and we were busy ignoring our household maintenance jobs because the house was going to get bulldozed anyway – why waste the time and money to paint?  The City of Abbotsford was in the process of making new rules for increasing density in old neighbourhoods like ours – while we were shopping for mansions and laughing off our chores – rules that would ban townhouses which is what our house was going to be replaced with.  The bright spot in this failure is that the new rules permit smaller lots, and now our lot can be subdivided into three properties instead of two.  At half a million per lot, we still could laugh away our work and shop for gaudy homes, but that is not happening any time soon.

The next failure was the test I was supposed to write.  The test is overseen by a body that certifies Water Operators, and they have decided, in their holy wisdom, that I don’t qualify to be a Water Operator.  In so doing, I have wasted  hours and hours studying that could have been used doing something interesting or productive.  The dominoes that fall in this chain reaction are that I don’t get hired full time at the City of Surrey, as the test is a prerequisite to being hired.  In turn they have to hire someone else, who in all probability will be some 22 year old who won’t know a water meter from an avocado but will have seniority over me and will one day be my boss.  It also means I continue getting older and nearer my retirement without a pension, which is the main perk of this job.  The people who denied me my test also withheld some of my money when they refunded me after they denied my application, as if the other problems weren’t enough joy.  Yes, this has me rather upset from several angles.  Surrey has appealed their decision, so it might not be over yet.  Still, my partner at work is retiring in five days, so I still might be beaten in the race to become the next person hired in my department.

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This summer was also frustrating watching the news from the Big Circus down south.  Trump infuriates me daily.  He is a pig of a human, with no decency, compassion or diplomacy.  He has lied so many times about so many things that he often lies about other lies he has told and contradicts himself frequently.  But my main frustration with him is his portrayal of Canada as being something other than a loyal ally.  He has put tariffs on steel and aluminum for national security reasons.  Really?  We declared war on Japan before they did after Pearl Harbor.  He says the US can’t allow Chapter 19 in the NAFTA deal, which allows Canada to challenge them if they break the deal, because it interferes with their sovereignty.  However, they can insist that we do away with our supply management system without seeing it as interfering with our sovereignty.  They have already indicated that they intend to rig the new NAFTA deal in their favour, without any compromises.  Is that bargaining in good faith?  Absolutely not!  It’s like trading hockey cards with the schoolyard bully and hoping to get a fair shake.  He says Canada has been ripping off the US for decades because the old deal was so unfair to them.  Really?  Actually, in 1994, the first year the original free trade deal went into effect, Canada’s gross domestic product went down.  Then, because we loved the deal so much, we voted out the Progressive Conservative party that negotiated it, dropping them from 169 seats and a majority government to 2 (!) seats, and virtually destroyed the party which had been in Canada since Sir John A McDonald.  These are sure signs we’re not ripping you off.  That first deal was so bad for Canada that I offered to bet anyone that, in time, Brian Mulroney would be shown to be an American agent, as no one faithfully negotiating on our behalf would have come back with such a dud.  No one would take the bet. The original deal said the US had access to our water “in all naturally occurring forms,” a clause I sincerely hope we do away with this time.   Since that deal, they haven’t come to take our water, but it came close.  The story I heard is one year (2002?) there was a drought in the US Midwest and the farms were drying up.  The US Army Corps of Engineers came north with the intention of making a pipeline from Great Slave Lake to the American heartland, and there was nothing we could’ve done about it.  Luckily, it got raining again and the whole thing blew over, so to speak.

Anyways, that was my pent up rant from two months or so of not writing anything.  Trump is facing his day of reckoning soon, so I shouldn’t let him get me crazy.  All the other stuff is temporary too.  Onward to fall and the wedding!

After I got interviewed about the Burns Lake 50/50 business in April, the town went through a little dry spell in May.  I was worried that maybe the attention had upset the balance of things and that their great run of winning was coming to an end.

Ha!

As much as they won in 2017, they won even more so far this year.  Between January and June ’17, Burns Lake won the BC 50/50 30 times for a total of $86,697.  In the same period this year, they have won 47 times for a total of $136,560 – nearly $50,000 more.  In the last 12 months, over a quarter million has been won there. And another town of around the same size, Pemberton, has started winning at almost the same pace.  In fact, in two of the first six months of this year, the Pemberton Petro Can station won more than Burns Lake.

First, let’s break down the haul.

January they won 8 times for $21,395

February they won 11 times for $33,576

March was quiet with only 4 wins for $16,903
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April, when the attention came their way, they won 9 times for $23,919.50

May was atypically quiet, and was when I was thinking the bubble had burst, but they still won 5 times for $11,644

June was business as usual with 10 wins for $29,122.50.

The town has won about $755 per day so far this year, including days they didn’t win.  To win that much, they would have had to spend probably $1200 a day or more (it’s hard to know how much because spending more on a ticket increases your chances), which is astronomical for a town of only 2,000 people.

Meanwhile in Pemberton, the local Petro Canada station is selling winners galore now, too.  In both April and May that location won more than the town of Burns Lake.  The Petro Can sells nearly all the winning tickets in Pemberton, as there were only a few odd wins at the drug store to break up the monopoly.  The total for the first six months for them is $102,165.50.  While that is $34,000 short of Burns Lake, it is more than Burns Lake won last year in the same period.

Will any more small towns start spending wildly on the BC 50/50?  Powell River wins more than their share, too, but not crazily more – yet.  Strangely, Pemberton winning consistently didn’t eat into Burns Lake’s profits.  You’d expect with someone else racking up wins, they would be splitting their loot.  The answer to that, partially, seems to be that more is being spent overall, and the average prize has gone up considerably in the last couple years. When I first looked in on this, the average win was around $1600, now it is $2900.  Still these two towns must be buying tickets at a frenzied pace when compared to the rest of the province.  They combine for about 0.1% of the population and have won 10.6% of the draws, suggesting they are spending around 106 times more per capita than the average town.  And while the BC Lottery Corp doesn’t usually print 50/50 winners names from Burns Lake, they did  name and photograph a group who won large on the 649 lottery.

I don’t see me writing much in the next few months, as I am suddenly surrounded by big ugly distractions.  First, a developer came by and offered us way too much for our old house.  This has resulted in us suddenly having to think about getting a new house and moving and all the disruptive fun that goes along with it.  Also my son and his girlfriend are going to get married in about 10 weeks – in our back yard.  So along with the madness of being dislodged, we now have a yard to beautify and decorate and food and cake and seating arrangements etc. to obsess over.  Then, because nature abhors a vacuum, my supervisor at work has decided he wants me to take the Water Distribution Level 1 course, which wouldn’t be that big a deal except he wants me to challenge the exam in about 8 weeks and I am woefully unready.  He gave me a 600 page book, with more yawns and head bobs Erection problems are more common especially in this age and day when viagra without prescription uk stress, anxiety, worry or financial issues or relationship troubles have tightly gripped our lives. Also when purchase cialis from india you have decided that you would buy medicines from authorized web chemists that have physical presence. Smoking can release harmful substances that can affect men’s health, particularly in get cialis online this pharmacy shop their sexual capabilities. Sex therapySometimes there isn’t any physical reason for Erectile viagra sans prescription canada dysfunction. per chapter than any other book in the English language, that I am to commit to memory by late August.  I took a practice exam on line to see how I was coming along and I only got 45%.  The carrot on this pole is that if I pass, I will get a full time job, so it is worth my while to pay attention.

So I am now about to gear up for a summer of juggling various stressful activities, and on a good day I can barely whistle and piss at the same time.  So I don’t see this leaving me much time to write in my blog, or play chess or golf or probably many other things I would prefer to fritter away my time with.  Oh well, none of this will be fatal. This crazy summer will pass, and there will be days ahead again when I find myself sitting around picking lint out of my navel and contemplating things, and that will be fine with me.

I wrote recently about contrarians, those people among us who insist on disagreeing with others just to be a nuisance.  In that story I left out the most extreme case of a group being at odds with the world: flat earth believers.  My God, didn’t we put this idea to bed a thousand years ago?  Apparently not, as there are still people around who will subject themselves to ridicule by believing this completely debunked idea.  And this includes some celebrities like Kyrie Irving and Tila Tequila who aren’t threats to win Nobel Prizes any time soon.  Recently some guy in California built a home made rocket and risked his life to soar 1,875 feet in the air to ‘prove’ the world is flat.  Of course, he could have easily found a higher hill to look from, or taken a ride in an airplane to about twenty times that height, but how risky would that be?  Perspective-wise, he might as well have stood on the hood of his car.

Flat earthers also seem quick to dismiss gravity as a fact, but I couldn’t help but notice Mr Homemade Rocket returned to earth by way of a parachute.  So he must have been aware that he was going to be heading back down toward California at a dangerous speed – for some inexplicable reason.

I read on one of their websites that a really convincing argument for us living on a frisbee-shaped planet, is that if it is hurtling through space and you were on the back side of it, you’d fall off.  Therefore, the earth can’t be round because people and things on the other side would tumble off into the void of space.  Also they say that the behaviour of eclipses matches a flat planet and not a round one.  In their model, the north pole is the centre hub of the planet, the south pole is the outer circumference of the disk, and the continents and oceans lie in between.  I wonder how they explain day and night.  Why does the sun only shine on half of it at a time?  Why the hell is the centre so cold?  Why hasn’t anyone gone to the edge and had a peek over the side?  Why do all the photos from space show it as round, when most photos of a disk would look elliptical?  If the south pole is the outer edge, how come the circumference of the world in Antarctica isn’t 72,000 miles?  Why is practically everything else in space a sphere?  The Greeks knew, or firmly suspected, the earth was round about 600 BC, so let’s just accept this as fact already.

I tried to think of a dumb idea to compare this to, but nothing is as clearly wrong as this is.  There is a picture of some guy on a mountain pointing to a city in the background that is 16 miles away.  He is saying that if the world was round the city would have curved away below the horizon.  The trouble with that is, that distance is too small, and although he can’t see it, the buildings in the city would be less than a quarter of a degree tilted to his eyes.

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Anyways, like most things, these people are allowed to believe this, I really don’t care.  The point is, this is a group of extreme contrarians who are probably fully aware of the holes in their arguments, but who continue to disagree with the world and get in some verbal abuse while they’re at it.  What fun!

Here is a recreation of the beginning of time, when God whipped up a nice pancake for us to settle on.  It remained cold in the middle, but the big guy never claimed to be a chef.

I’m a shy person.  My method of communicating is writing, if possible, and the very last thing I would normally do is speak publicly.  My mother joined Toastmasters and hinted I should join too.  She signed up and within months was running the place, as being in charge is my mother’s special gift.  Me on the other hand, I agreed to go once.  I did a pathetic u-turn in the parking lot and went home – I never even got out of the car.  I’ve daydreamed that if faced with imminent public speaking, I may be able to will myself into a coma on command.

So I started writing a blog.  Then one day I noticed Burns Lake was winning the BC 50/50 all the time and I wrote about it a few times, noting how many wins they had and how much loot they had won.  Some people commented on this little series of blogs, mostly people who thought the system was somehow rigged in favour of the little village.  One reader named Trudy sent my blog to Global News, with my permission, as she correctly figured it had some news worthiness to it.  And then my greatest fear came calling: I got an email from the CBC asking to interview me.  After a few phone calls the process began.  There was going to be an online story that went with it, so I met up with Manjula Dufresne and she took some pictures of me.  Also, they informed me that the story was going to go national in the morning, coast to coast.  I was a nervous wreck.  When the reporter called I paced around the basement with the phone, chattering like a squirrel on helium, my voice squeaking with dryness, not breathing properly as I spoke.  The small bit of that conversation that made it to air sounded as bad as it felt.  It was ok, I had survived and still had my health.  I carefully critiqued my performance, thinking if I ever had to do it again all the changes I would make.

A few days went by and I got another email, this time from radio station CKNW and the producers of the Simi Sara show which airs four hours a day.  I fretted, I worried, I considered calling them back and telling them to forget the whole thing.  I even called my Toastmaster mother for advice. But we had arranged a time to do it, so I bit the bullet and put on my bravest face.  I was at work, sitting at the side of the road in my truck on a quiet street.  Simi called very punctually at 8:40 and we taped a few minutes of us talking about the Burns Lake story.  And guess what?  It turned out pretty well.  That may have been the biggest leap outside my comfort zone I have ever taken.  People who are comfortable doing this sort of thing might roll their eyes at that, but for quiet me, hiding in the back row, it was a serious step.

And the best part was I never willed myself into a coma.
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You probably know someone who relishes in striking up pointless arguments all the time.  I sure do!  Every statement, however innocuous, is met with a quick rebuttal.  “It’s pretty cold this morning.”  “It’s not cold, you should go to Winnipeg!  This is nice.”  “Shawshank Redemption was a great movie.”  “I hated it, it was stupid.”  Followed by: “Pulp Fiction was a great movie.”  “I prefer Shawshank Redemption to that crap.”  And so on.

I’m all for people not following the herd and using their own minds, but being a contrarian is exactly as pointless as  following the crowd.  In either case your opinion is based solely on how others feel about things – you are either blending in and agreeing, or reflexively rejecting whatever is said.  Being a contrarian doesn’t make you smarter than anyone, or more capable of independent thought, it usually just makes you an asshole.

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It’s no accident that our language uses the word like to mean both “similar to” and “fond of.”  Things we enjoy are “agreeable.”  Which isn’t to say we can’t also enjoy a good argument or having a little fun with someone being the devil’s advocate, but when it becomes a person’s automatic reaction, that person is to be avoided.  Trail blazers and innovators like Steve Jobs are sometimes described as contrarians for opposing norms and expectations.  That may be true in a sense, but I doubt Steve Jobs went around starting arguments all day long just to be a social irritant.  He would likely be better described as the independent thinker contrarians aspire to be.