The Bow River under Crowchild Trail just west of downtown.
I am writing this post partly for the sake of my readers who don’t live in Calgary, but I hope it will be of interest to those who live here as well . . .
As you may know, I live in Calgary which is a largish city (for Canada at least) located at the western end of the Canadian prairies, in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. It is the centre of the oil and gas industry in Canada and so it’s one of Canada’s wealthiest cities.
The residual wealth that trickles down from oil and gas has actually helped to create a thriving arts and culture scene here, which I like to refer to as the art patch as opposed to the oil patch. As you can probably guess, I identify more with the latter than the former of these patches.
Generally speaking, the people in the two patches don’t always get along so well. They (oil) seem to think that we (art) don’t work and we (art) often think that they (oil) operate without any evidence of a soul.
This dirty roiling mess is usually quite placid beautiful blue-green water from the mountains, some of the nest trout fishing anywhere.
But, we do share the same geographical area, one of the features of which is the proximity to the mountains. Banff, for example, is just over an hour’s drive west of here.
Two rivers (in particular) originate in the mountains and flow down through Calgary, the Elbow and the Bow. The Elbow flows into the Glenmore Reservoir in the south part of town and it is from here we get our drinking water. It then flows north and east from the reservoir up through some of the finest neighbourhoods in the country and meets up with the larger Bow River just east of downtown, which is the site of Fort Calgary.
A few days ago a number of forces came together to cause these two rivers to flood in a way no one here can ever remember happening before, not like this. Those forces included the melting snow pack in the mountains along with a record rainfall in the mountains, the foothills and in Calgary. All that water has to go somewhere and it all went into the two rivers which soon flooded their respective banks, leaving large areas of the city underwater, causing the evacuation of tens of thousands of people.
Although I live nowhere near either river, people in the block east of me were evacuated yesterday (Friday) not so much because of the water but because there were problems with the power grid and so the power was lost for a number of apartment buildings downtown, hence the evacuations.
It’s like it’s boiling.
Obviously, the situation wasn’t as dire here as for people living along the rivers. Some of them lost everything, and all of them have a horrible mess to return home to.
All of which brings me to my point about the amazing spirit of generosity that flowed through our city as a result of this situation.
I first became aware of it on Thursday evening when the shit really hit the fan and we all began to realize how serious the situation was becoming.
I was following events as they unfolded on Facebook. The updates on there turned out to be more comprehensive and current than anything I could find on television. I watched in disbelief as news spread of neighbourhood after neighbourhood being evacuated. Some of them were only a few blocks from my apartment, and all of them were places where friends of mine live.
What followed was truly extraordinary. Friends on Facebook, those on higher and drier ground, began offering a place to stay for those who were facing evacuation. I wish I had counted how many offers I saw on Thursday night and Friday, honestly it was in the hundreds.
Then the city workers arrived and bade me to desist.
Not only that . . . people were offering to drive and pick up the evacuees. And not only that! Many were sweetening the pot with offers of food, wine, beer, you name it! People with yards were even billing themselves as “animal friendly” for those with pets.
This generosity was so spontaneous and overwhelming that in a few cases I seriously contemplated pretending I’d been evacuated just to have a little free vacation at someone else’s house. Of course, getting busted on something like that is something you would never live down so I rode the storm out on my own. I even offered a room at my place for anyone who needed it.
After all, I had beer and vodka, coffee and smokes, and a little water. I knew I’d be OK.
And in the end, you know, it didn’t matter much which of the patches you came from or which side of the river you lived on, the people of this fine city came together in a truly inspirational expression of community that for some of us – certainly for me – reminded us why we live here in the first place.
Reminding us, ultimately, that’s there no place else in the world where we would rather live.
The rains have subsided but the rivers are still high. These photos of the Bow River were taken today (Saturday).
There’s a hell of a mess left to clean up, but we’ll get through it, and maybe even be a little richer of a community for it.
In closing, a little number from one of my favourite Calgary-based musicians, Tim Williams, who had a health scare during the flood and had everyone worried but it looks like he’s going to be fine. This is Harrison Lake in BC you’re seeing in this vid, the flooding’s not that bad here . . . not yet . . .
This photograph came to the Eugenius archives today thanks to the little boy you see on the right, my oldest friend in the world, Roy Lyster. Since that photograph was taken in the early 1960’s, Roy and I have gone our separate ways, but in the true manner of old friends, we check up and check in every now and then. Roy was in Calgary last week and we had a lovely evening together.
And now, looking at this photograph that Roy sent out of the blue today, I am in awe that I have been blessed to have such a truly wonderful friend in my life all these years.
I mean, look at us! Could we be more happy!? Is there any place we would rather be than in each other’s company?! I think not.
A few comments on the photo, some 50 years after it was taken . . .
I believe the photo was taken near Roy’s house on the 16 block of Athol Street in Regina. This area has since become, according to Macleans Magazine, the worst neighbourhood in Canada, but it seems pretty damned leafy and safe in this photo. And it was. It was a good place to grow up.
I’m not sure what Roy is doing wearing those high-waisted jeans, but he was always a little ahead of the rest of us fashion-wise. I can’t help but notice that I am wearing a cardigan, which I still do, and am wearing what appears to be Chuck Taylors, which I still wear, and I’m obviously riding a bike, which I still do. Have I not come anywhere in over 50 years on this planet? Have I not evolved? It would seem not.
But as they say, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Further to my wardrobe, you notice I am not wearing jeans, like Roy is. My mom was wont to dress me up a little bit. Legend has it that she insisted my hair be kept long and she liked to dress me in little outfits, pinafores and such. One day my dad was out with me and someone asked him how old his little girl was and that was that. Dad took me to a barber and cut off all my curls. Mom took to her bed and cried for days. I still have an envelope with those curls in it. So I notice I have on dress pants in this photo, which doesn’t really surprise me.
Notice too that I am on a girl’s bike, and with a basket, yet. And notice how gigantic Roy’s bike is in comparison. Roy’s bike even has one of those old school generator and light gizmos. Talk about high tech! I can’t believe he could ride that thing without damaging himself! But why would I have a girlie bike with a basket like that?
The simple answer to that is that I at least had a bike, and, I’m sure, was glad to have it. My parents were hardly wealthy. Neither were Roy’s. But they provided us with what we needed, and we were obviously happy little boys.
Today, the little boy on the right in an immensely talented and successful man, you can read up on him here: http://people.mcgill.ca/roy.lyster/. And elsewhere. And you know about the other boy in the photo. Whatever was going on in our young minds that day almost half a century ago when we set out for a bike ride together, it must have all been good, and our little minds were free and clear to dream big dreams.
One night, a few years after this photo was taken, when we were thirteen or so, we were at a party and Roy had the Old Friends album by Simon and Garfunkel. I remember we wondered that night so long ago if we would be friends like Simon and Garfunkel so beautifully sang about. Well, we’re not 70 – yet – and we’re not sitting on a park bench – yet – but it seems we are destined to be friends to the end. I hope so.
I found the song and share it with you here.
So, here’s to old friends, my friends. Remember the old saying:
Well, well, well. Would you look at that! Just when you thought our streets were safe, who should come skulking around here again but Mr. Grumpypants with another first world atrocity to share with us all. Take it away, Your Grumpiness . . .
Thank you, Eugenius.
Meine Dame und Herren. Mesdames et Messieurs. Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for taking the time to read my guest column on the Eugenius blog here. Though I don’t mind telling you that I am still awaiting payment from the first post I wrote which was months ago. Does the administration of this blog think I live on air or something? What the hell’s wrong with people, Krisake . . .
On any account, there I was in Safeway. Minding my own business as usual. I was in the eggs and dairy aisle, lovingly fondling the various tubs of yoghurt. A woman of indeterminate age and, I might add, rare beauty, was beside me, so to speak, likewise engaged.
I was caressing a big firm tub of OLYMPIC CREAMA while she was going back and forth from tub to tub of inferior yoghurts, clearly befuddled and unable to make a final decision. She seemed particularly interested in a blue tub of Greek stuff that I had tried myself and found to be wretched. And so what could I do, what choice did I have, I intervened.
“My lady,” I crooned, in dulcet tones, “Do yourself a favour. Forget that stuff, I’ve tried it, it’s no good. Get yourself a tub of the OLYMPIC CREAMA. It’s simply the best. It will change your entire notion of what yoghurt really is.”
“Is it really that good?” she asked?
“It is, it is, it just makes everything else taste like puppy doo doo.”
“Well,” she said, “That’s good enough for me. Thank you.” And she took a tub of CREAMA and put it in her cart. Decisively, if I do say so myself. She gave me a meaningful look, and then shopped on, as did I: she to eggs, and me to cheese.
End of story, you would think. But no. Oh no. Oh no no no. A few minutes later, as I was looking to take my place at one of the checkouts, there she was, hauling a tub of the blue shit I had warned her about onto the conveyor belt. She had obviously slunk back to the yoghurt section when I was out of sight and put back her tub of CREAMA and taken a tub of this inferior blue goo instead.
WTF?!
What can you even say to this type of underhanded skuzzy behaviour? We had a pact, an agreement. We had had a moment. For no personal profit or gain of any kind, other than the satisfaction of helping a fellow human being, I had GONE OUT OF MY WAY to help this thankless hussy and what does she do??? She sneaks back around and makes the old switcheroo.
A low point, a black day, in the history of cooperative shopping, to say the least.
In my mind, I made my way through the lineup behind here and I picked up that blue tub of rancid yoghurt and held it up to her face and screamed: “AH ha! Caught you! You heartless thankless JEZEBEL! You low and vile worse than crawling THING! How could you?!?! How could you do this to US???????”
And then triumphantly made my way to the fruits and vegetables aisle to compose myself. In my mind, at least, that’s what I did.
Ahh, but dear reader, perhaps in another place, at another time, I would have done just that, and then some. But sadly – and herein lies the seat of my grumpiness – I am a Canadian man, bred and trained by my parents to be polite and obsequious at all costs, especially in the presence of women of indeterminate age, and so what did I do?
I averted my eyes, dear reader, pretending I hadn’t noticed this atrocity, and meekly took my place in another line up.
So sad, when I think of what might have been. So sad, so sad.
No wonder they call me Mr. Grumpypants.
I live it my friend Gladys and her Pips to convey the depths of my despair . . .
A number of years ago my friend Michael Finner and I started up a small publishing house in Calgary called B House. It has gone through good times and bad, happy and sad. It’s obviously interesting times in the publishing world. Everything is up in the air. Everything is topsy-turvy. The old rules no longer apply and no one really knows what the new rules are.
In this regard, we are certainly living in interesting times.
While we have been down, we have never really been out. And now, amazingly, we are having an omnibus launch of 5 new books this spring.
Here is the press release I wrote about the launch:
B House Publications is pleased to announce an Omnibus launch of 5 new B House publications featuring the work of some of Calgary’s finest writers. The books will be launched in one evening at Calgary’s Shelf Books, at the corner of 4th Street and 13th Avenue SW on Thursday, June 6 beginning at 7:00 PM.
The evening will be hosted by B House editor in chief, Eugene Stickland. There will be readings by our authors from their books, in the following order.
1. Neil Fleming will read from his play, “Last Christmas.”
2. Eugene Stickland will read from “Cartwheels,” a collections of letters written by Amy Doolittle chronicling her experience with ALS.
3. Virginia Nemitz will read from her volume of poetry, “Swans I have Known.”
4. Jude Dillon will read from his volume of poetry, “The Fractured Garden.”
5. Kirk Miles will read from his volume of poetry, his second with B House, “Hotel on the Cliffs of the Heart.”
There will be an intermission so our friends can look around this beautiful book store and mingle with the authors. There will be a reasonably-priced cash bar and some nibblies. All in all, it will be a rare experience to launch so many books by so many great writers at the same event. Please share this with as many people as you can.
All of these books will also be (or have also been) launched individually by their author, so please check with them to see if there will be other events to celebrate these books.
See you at Shelf Life June 6.
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On the night, I will speak on the ever-changing mandate of B House and offer some insight into what I think is going on in the publishing world. I certainly invite friends in Calgary to take in this event and support our local writers.
There is a link to Shelf Life on the left side of this screen.
eugene stickland 