ottawa in 28 hours or less

Since it was kind of a tradition on this blog (man, am I getting nostalgic about a blog?) to have me come on here and write my impressions of a city after I visited it, no matter how trivial the observations and how tiny the sample size, I will give you my thoughts on Ottawa, after spending just more than 24 hours there this weekend.

Surprisingly, it was the first time I'd been out of Montreal since June and my first time out of the province since I was at the union of Mindy in Tofino. That's fucked!

I drove out with the Wind Ups for their show at Avantgarde Sunday night. I'm officially a roadie. We set off at 5 pm Saturday. I got home at 2:30 am this morning.

First, there may not be a more boring non-Prairie drive in Canada than Montreal-Ottawa. Especially in the winter. It's trees and snow and Petro Canadas, Tim Horton's, Ultramars and a restaurant named Herb's, out in the middle of nowhere. The Lazer says: "Is there a non-boring drive in Canada?" The answer: British Columbia and Southern Alberta from what I've seen. He's right.

Next, people in Ottawa are rule followers. They shovel their driveways immediately after a snowfall. The street we were staying on was a study in civil obedience, as even the scruffy neighbours next door, who were obviously still partying residually on Sunday morning, got out and did a half-ass clear job of their stairs and sidewalk. Our host told us that Ottawa was recently named the snitch capital of Canada, or more formally, a poll was conducted and people in Ottawa were the most likely to report their neighbours or coworkers to officials for doing something illegal. They were also the most likely to tell their neighbours to turn down music or complain about dog turds in their yard and things like that. Maybe to offset this, we drank and dashed at the one of the half dozen Royal Oak pubs in town. After being forced to listen to the same Taylor Swift - or was it Miley Cyrus? - song six times in a row (no joke) at a so-called Irish Pub, we kind of had enough. When the surly, track suited manager came to kick us out, we did as he said. No questions asked. It felt good.

I noticed something about the pub patrons that night though - and the breakfast patrons the next (er... morning?) brunch time at the Rochester Eatery - people in Ottawa kind of have that government kind of comfort and safety. They dress conservatively and sort of formally all the time, like they can be called into a meeting at any time. They laugh loudly and take pictures at pubs and make big deals about ordering - and drinking - shooters. Their lives are very easy, it seems. But it also feels like not much happens. Like a spark is missing. Like going to the pub is like putting on slippers and petting an old dog that lays at their feet. They have expanding guts.

There was a guy outside a bar who just started ranting to us, unsolicited: "I hate Ottawa. I want to go to Montreal. I've been here for ten years and it sucks. Anywhere you go in Montreal is packed." That's not true, we thought. Then we thought, why don't you go to Montreal? It's two hours away. He kept talking. "I'm from Haiti. I'm bilingual." Why don't you go to Montreal, we think. He talks about how everything is a party in Montreal. He asks where we are from. We say we all live in Montreal. He says "oh..." He stops talking for the first time. He puts out his smoke. "Have a good night."

Do I have anything else about Ottawa? Not really.

The Barefoot Hostel looked really nice from the two minutes I spent there drinking wine and warming my cold, wet feet on the heated floor.

Yeah, that's about it. I'd like to go back in summer. I'm sure I'd leave with a better impression. I hear there are less politicians around at that time of the year and therefore the douchebag-per-square-kilometre ratio would be diminished.

they're out there... for real

I just returned home -- and straight to bed -- after a nice 14.5 hour work day, featuring a commute to and from the North's puppet-master headquarters, Ottawa.

It was my first trip to the nation's capital, but unfortunately I didn't get to experience much of it, as I spent the entire day on a roof and top level of an 11-floor building. Did peer over the edge of the building and have a look down the canal and imagined what it must be like to skate to work each day, as I've heard the story told.

Perhaps I'll get a better look at the city tomorrow, since I'll be heading back again for work, bright and early at 6:30 a.m.

One interesting thing that's flashed back to me from the brief visit though was the image of a company's logo, emblazoned in bold, flashy orange on a building we passed on our drive to the worksite. The stone building was modern, with large windows, looking like a headquarters for a tech company, or perhaps even the site of an upscale car dealership.

Now I thought all the talk recently in newspapers about the marches and all the facebook groups that had popped up about the day-long gatherings were jokes, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all part of some conspiracy.

I ask this because the company's name was Brainhunter. I did a search and apparently it's the world's biggest online job search engine (I was recently poring the internet for weeks searching for work and never once stumbled upon Brainhunter.)

Here is a link to the site. (Try and tell me that guy isn't logging onto the internet to try to find the nearest helpless brain to stick his fangs into.)

I want a background on all Brainhunter's Corporate Directors and if any of them have died in the past 20 years, I think we should have them locked up.

I think all the pro-zombie treatment in the media are making these brain-sucking leeches too comfortable. I know we all elected a good number of lifeless vegetables who are now sitting in the House of Commons in Ottawa and even more far-gone specimens in the Senate, but is this company's brazen openness a sign of a larger movement afoot, like some sort of zombie think-tank forming, bolstered by all the zombie appreciation sites and sympathy from the general public?

Just got a call from one of my supervisors. It appears I will be spending the next few days and nights in Ottawa. Sounds a little fishy. I may have to bring my rifle. (I don't really own a rifle, but you know, you have to talk like that, in case there are any around.)

Judging from the way I feel though, I think they may have already gotten me. I'm guessing it probably happened when I took a couple minutes and ate my disgusting KFC meal in zombie-like fashion, staring at my feet cross-eyed, with drool falling from the corner of my mouth.