Goodbye my friend. Your life was too short, and too hard. I’m just glad I got to be a part of it.
.:.
Cover photo by ronald embree, used without permission, but I hope he doesn’t mind
Goodbye my friend. Your life was too short, and too hard. I’m just glad I got to be a part of it.
.:.
Cover photo by ronald embree, used without permission, but I hope he doesn’t mind
The amount of available excellent TV remains overwhelming, especially now that Amazon Prime Video can be cast to Google devices. As such, I’ve managed to get through a few more seasons of shows, betwixt all the half-finished shows on the go. To wit:
Billions (imdb | rotten tomatoes) remains pulp in season four, but it’s entertaining pulp about megalomaniac billionaires and politicians.
I thought Stranger Things (imdb | rotten tomatoes) season two was okay, but season three to me felt like a return to form. Lots of great jokes. Amazing new cast additions, mostly inside the mall. Nice through-line about kids growing up.
For some reason I’ve always had a weird soft spot for Tom Clancy stuff (The Hunt For Red October is, like, comfort food for me) so Jack Ryan (imdb | rotten tomatoes) starring John Krasinski seemed like a safe bet. And it was. Nothing special. Nothing groundbreaking. Just entertaining violent geopolitics, as The Clance intended.
Lindsay had been telling me for a couple years how great a movie 2 Days In Paris (imdb | rotten tomatoes) is, but I didn’t watch it until last night. And she was right. It was funny and beautifully textured in the way Julie Delpy seems able to do.
.:.
Cover photo by Nil Castellví on Unsplash
We just got back from a couple of nights at Mike & Heather’s cottage. The weather was beautiful. The drinks were plentiful. Ken was there (with his wife Michelle) and I hadn’t seen him for years, so that made me happy. The food was fantastic. We felt like freeloaders as we decided at the last minute we could still make it, and then decided on the spot to stay an extra night. We sat on the dock. We took a boat ride around the lake. I got lots of play time with Brody the big black dog. We played asshole and drank vintage Veuve I’d sabered open.
We had to leave early on Canada Day to get home to catch ourselves up (we’d planned to come back Sunday afternoon but couldn’t bear to leave) but still — what a beautiful weekend.
Via What’s Different In Canada:

.:.
Cover photo by James Milstid, used under Creative Commons license
We’re fresh off a hybrid work/fun trip to BC — Tofino and Vancouver, specifically — and have yet to come to grips with the fact that we can’t smell salt air. That aside, here’s how it went:
We had a fairly early flight, but timed it perfectly so that we walked right on to the plane with no waiting. After some screen issues I watched Captain Marvel (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and did some work while Lindsay fended off a brutally entitled family who crawled everywhere and kept their seats in her face the entire flight, poor thing.
We landed in Vancouver and had a few hours to kill before our transfer. We did the apparently very traditional BC thing of visiting White Spot for burgers, a milkshake, and some local wine. After that, we shuttled over to the south terminal and took a very tiny Pacific Coastal flight (the plane held 16 people, maybe?) to our destination for the next few days: Tofino.
I’d heard about Tofino — all rugged beauty and beaches and ocean surf and trees leaning into coastline — but I’d never been. Nor had Lindsay. Anyway, a few minutes out of the airport we saw what all the fuss was about.
A few more km down the road we pulled into our temporary home, the Wickaninnish Inn. After a brief orientation we settled into our room, and were immediately greeted with a jaw-dropping view.

We didn’t do much for the rest of the afternoon except enjoy that view and the smell of the sea, and wait for dinner at the in-house restaurant: The Pointe. Turns out the restaurant is pretty g-d spectacular.
We willed ourselves out of the perfect bed to get breakfast (smoked salmon rosti; fresh fruit crepes) and enjoy the view from the dining room now that it was light out. (If a little foggy.)
We were determined to do as little as possible that day, so we went for a stroll on that very beach (which is called Chesterman Beach, FYI), chilled back in the room for a bit re-watching Fargo, then took a bit of work down to the bar & lounge.
We had some lunch (west coast clam chowder; fish & chips) in the bar, ogled their new wine cellar, and did…nothing, basically? Like, aggressively did nothing. Not until dinner, when we drove in to Tofino for dinner at Wolf in the Fog.
It was a cool space — we were sat right next to a wolf sculpture made out of driftwood, which is the most Tofino thing ever — and the food was as good as we’d heard. Here’s what we consumed:
After having some breakfast in bed sent up, we got ourselves ready for our one and only activity (other than eating) whilst in Tofino: whale watching. We drove into town and geared up at Jamie’s Whaling, completely swaddling ourselves in orange flotation suits.
The trip, though very foggy, was even better than we’d hoped. We saw:
Then, as if Tofino was just showing off, on our way to lunch we saw a bald eagle just hanging out on a telephone pole. WHERE WERE WE?
I mean.
Anyway, we grabbed a surprisingly excellent lunch of burgers (chicken; tuna) and beer at The Shed before driving home, stopping along the way for some beer courtesy of Tofino Brewing. After all that adventure, food, and drink, we had a hard nap in the room right up until the very last minute to get to the very last reservation at The Pointe. Our server assured us it wasn’t too late to order the tasting menu, and we trusted him. Thank goodness we did; it was one of the culinary highlights of the trip.
It was all superb, but the salmon w/ clam beignets was phenomenal, and the ribeye w/ black garlic jus will 100% be on the list of the best things I ate in 2019.
The weather was kind enough to clear for our last morning in Tofino, so we enjoyed one last coffee on the patio.
We went for one last long walk on the beach, which is just a spectacular place, full of sea life and surfers and romping dogs and digging kids. It’s as beautiful place as exists in Canada, which is saying something.
Finally, we got one last breakfast in at The Pointe (Rosti again for Lindsay; shrimp n’ eggs for Dan) before packing and heading back to the airport. Our flight back was a little more picturesque (and slightly less nerve-wracking for Lindsay) than on the flight out, and our cab ride into downtown Vancouver was uneventful. We arrived at the Sheraton Wall Centre to find NHL Draft posters everywhere. Apparently this was the home hotel for the NHL draft prospects, their families, and to some degree the NHL teams interested in them.
Anyway, while our room felt very old-Sheraton, the view was pretty solid: we could see all the way from False Creek to the mountains.

We didn’t hang around long though — the weather was too beautiful. We jumped in a cab and got ourselves to The Alibi Room. I hadn’t been in years, and it was Lindsay’s first time, but worthwhile given it’s the best beer joint in Vancouver (as far as my limited knowledge goes, anyway). We sat next to their open windows, sampled BC beer we’ve never tried, and ate charcuterie.
We’d decided to get dinner at St. Lawrence, like a mashup of Vancouver and our old Montreal adventures. It was tiny and bustling, and very delicious.
We didn’t have much left in us after that, except to take a cab back to the hotel and crash.
My two days of meetings started Wednesday, so we grabbed an early breakfast around the corner at The Twisted Fork, where we found portions so big as to be terrifying.
After we walked that off, the rest of my day was taken up with meetings and a work dinner at Ancora overlooking False Creek. Lindsay met up with a friend and then, weirdly, got rather ill for about 24 hours.
After another long day of meetings I grabbed a drink at the hotel bar, surrounded by hockey families and NHL personnel (example: Barry Trotz ordered a Stella Artois next to me at the bar), before Lindsay — now mostly on the mend — and I walked down to Sunset Beach and then back to the hotel for a few local beers in the room. Later that night we met up with friends at Hawksworth, one of my all-time Vancity favs. Here’s what we got:
Afterward we went for a drink at UVA, which had somehow shown up on my list of places to try, even though it turned to be really fucking weird. Weird decor, hinky service, long-but-strangely-empty cocktail list, etc. We had one and left.
We liked Twisted Fork so much we went back for breakfast again, and left equally stuffed.
We did some work in the room for a while before decamping for Gastown, finding Six Acres a good place to sit and drink craft beer and watch the neighbourhood pass by while getting some shit done.
After leaving there and walking a ways (and taxiing the rest) we got back to the room to do more work and get ready for dinner, while killing a bottle of Blue Mountain sparkling Lindsay’d bought the day before.
Dinner was at Black + Blue, since we were looking for a simple (simple as in easy choices, not simple as in not-nice) dinner, and were tapped out on seafood. So, steak it was. And what a steak!
Let it be known that the Wagyu was fucking unreal. Every bite was like butter. Maybe the best Wagyu I’ve ever had, and I’ve had lots. Another entry on the ‘best things I ate this year’ list come December, I’ll bet.
And that was it. BC. Tofino, Vancouver. All done. One last breakfast in the room and all that was left to do was pack up, head to the airport, fly home — no annoying families or busted screens this time; I watched They Shall Not Grow Old (imdb | rotten tomatoes) — coo at Kramer, and unpack.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: BC is the prettiest province. Now that I’ve seen Tofino, I know that’s even more true.

About a week ago we finished the miniseries Chernobyl (imdb) and it was amazing. One of the best things I’ve seen on TV, maybe. Shocking (turns out I knew very little about the disaster), incredibly sad, perfectly scored, so well-acted, and — apparently — incredibly accurate in its recreation.
