Pirate Ship

Vancouver

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One of the joys of living on the (West, though some wags refer to it as ‘Wet’) coast, are the variety of watercraft that one comes across. Here is what appears to be a pirate ship, no doubt docked here to traffic its plunder, but not a pirate to be found. Likely they are enjoying a pleasant shore leave at a Motel 6.

I imagine, armed with their cutlasses, and selfie sticks, they were hitting all the local tourist spots. I am confident that while there is likely a ‘talk like a pirate’ policy on board, actual piratical activities are restricted. Keel hauling and plank walking would be real crowd pleasers, in this writer’s opinion.

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High Pool Confidential

humor, Vancouver

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Here is a nice little luxury at one of the apartments in downtown Vancouver.  This is an area of real estate for anyone who has their own personal shower in a plane. It is a pool that extends into thin air, giving the public at large a sight of your ballooning swim trunks and un-Phelps-like doggy paddle.

I imagine, of course, a strict dress code would be in place so as not to offend looky-loos (with their telephoto lenses) – bathing attire from the 1890s, or those full body sunscreen suits that make you look like you just fell in the pool, would be acceptable.

A better idea would be to make it into an aquarium. I don’t mean with a shark and periodic kitten feedings but a genuine world class tropical fish tank where they are fed with a t-shirt gun.

Hey, just running stuff up a flagpole, seeing who salutes. One thing for sure, there will not be any cetaceans. Our local aquarium has been banned from having any in captivity. Thx for reading! Hope you are enjoying your summer!

The Dead Dog

dogs, life, Vancouver

In my travels, I came upon a dead dog. (Great first line for an epic world-building fantasy) He was lying in the middle of a parking space in Granville Island, an artsy/touristy area of Vancouver that I love to visit and soak up the creative vibes.

I knelt down, trying to remember my first responder abc’s. You know, Airway, Breathing, and the

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third one. Might I need to perform mouth to muzzle? Was a defibrillator nearby? I thought how, upon revival, a dog would be forever in my debt.

However, before being caught inflagrante, the owner, an artist in a nearby studio, appeared. Oh, he does that
all the time, I was told, lies down in random spots. He’s a bit elderly so he is happy to saunter aimlessly. (Like the elderly do on cruise ships!) Then, when he has had enough,  collapses like a puppet whose strings have been cut. (Again, like the elderly) Hence, and you might be able to see it in the photo, the tag around his neck: I AM NOT LOST.

Made my day! I was very happy not to have to spatula a dead dog from the ground. (I think there is an emoji for that) Thanks for reading!

Enough about me, what do YOU think of me?

family, humor, life, Vancouver

Hi It’s Wilt! A bit about me. Born and raised in Winnipeg (holidayed in fine style in such exotic cities like Thief River Falls, Bemidji, Minot, Rapid City, Morris, Moose Jaw, St. Paul, Grand Forks, Devils Lake, Kenora, the Badlands, Flin Flon, Sioux Narrows) moved to a small town called Vancouver BC. My mother is English, father is of Japanese descent.

I love drawing comics, as you can see. It has always been a way of blowing off steam, trotting out some silly ideas, escaping Swiffering round the house, my kids. The enjoyment I derive from creating a comic almost, AL-MOST makes me feel guilty! Nothing absorbs me more fully, although if I had a PS4 game console I’m sure that would do the trick.

Anyway, I have always been a comics person. More a maker of them than a reader of them, I am embarrassed to say. I made comics of Wile E. Coyote when I was 5. Needless to say, they are moldering away in some landfill, along with a lot of ‘underground’ comics that my wife threw away many years later. They’d be worth thousands by now, I am often heard to say.

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Here are some of my favourites: Peanuts, all New Yorker cartoonists, (esp Roz Chast}, Monty, Garfield, Freak Bros, Zippy, and, of course, Peanuts, because comics begin AND end with Peanuts. I am overwhelmed with admiration and respect for Charles M Schulz. His genius was in how he distilled reality through the characters, and made them breathe, and live. My humour is informed by the Goons, Monty Python, stand-up comedy, the dry wit of the Brits, IOW my mother’s side of the family.

I worked on and off in the graphics industry, including making some T-shirt designs for a mountain bike company that were distributed throughout Canada with a signature character, Felipe. None exist today, unless my mom still has some. Anyway, they were done in the 1990’s, before we started documenting everything we do.

I have a family now, with a boy and a girl, my forays into artwork are for pure enjoyment, not commerce. I carry a small sketch pad around, since I can’t afford an SLR. I occasionally paint but it is more the action of it than the final product which, for me, is always dissatisfying! IOW I enjoy the act of doing it but when it’s over I’ll relegate it to the closet or a dumpster! Comics are more cathartic for me!

Oh and love dogs. Always one in the house growing up, cocker spaniel, cockapoo, labrador, fox terrier. Ok the last few I owned vicariously through family. I love cats too but pretend I hate them for form’s sake.

Love

Wilt

Abbotsford Airshow 2016

family, humor, Vancouver

I took myself and my kids to the Abbotsford Airshow (my wife did not wish to go, in spite of besuited handsome pilots), an event that is held every year in, wait for it, Abbotsford. It is outside Vancouver, and as all tourism brochures will have you believing, a leisurely 45 minutes east of Vancouver. Given the boost in population, urban sprawl, road work, etc, (you know where I’m going with this) it is more like 90 minutes. Abbotsford is a pleasant community, (50 km east or so) that offers an alternative to those who can’t afford a 300 sq foot shipping crate in downtown Vancouver. It has its own airport, for private planes and airlines that fly to Hawaii, and the ‘Interior’, as we call the inner province of B.C. (which stands for Bring Cash).

This event has been held annually since the 40’s, except when it’s not, such as in the 1990’s when there was a war brewing in the Gulf, or due to some budgetary issues, such as the cost of jet fuel and Ray Bans. I attended the airshow in the 80s with my parents and sis, and many times after that. Since it’s held in August, it is under sweltering temperatures. One is standing in an airfield under the blazing sun for eight hours or so, which means there is always the promise of collapsing and waking up on a stretcher, attached to an IV line. We slapped on SPF level 1000 sunscreen (although a mud pack would have been cheaper) every 20 minutes or so, to protect us from the punishing UV, gamma, and altogether hostile rays of the sun.

In this year’s show, the highlights were:

Boeing Super Hornet: corporate demo. For those of you interested in avoiding the morning commute. Cue the afterburners as you blaze out of your suburban cul de sac!

The Breitling Jet team: first time I had seen this team, who gave the Snowbirds a run for their money. Bonus: radio transmissions in French. As Steve Martin said, those French have a different word for everything!

Screamin’ Sasquatch: not a craft beer, but a powerful WW1 era biplane with a jet engine, that produces an incongruous show of power, and that distinctive roar of jet engines.

Bearcat, Spitfire, Skyraider, Mustang fly-bys. These aircraft and their distinctive livery and sound brought a lump to my throat that wasn’t the comped beef jerky. As with automobiles, the lines and style of these aircraft were evocative of a bygone era. Unlike automobiles, however, they were designed with superior air power and top notch maneuverability, to evade and overpower the enemy. And they looked cool. As soon as you enwrap yourself in such an aircraft, insults and slander bounce right off you.

Cormorant helicopter SAR tech demo, and much more (I feel like adding, ‘order now’ right here)

The closer, as always, were the famous Snowbirds, who were amazing despite an absent pilot, that made its usual contingent of nine planes one less. This meant that a few acrobatics were not performed, which was not a problem. In any case, by that point, 95% of the audience were dehydrated due to consumption of sweaty cans of Budweiser, Mike’s Hard Lemonade, and Starbucks Jet Fuel Frappucino (they just grind espresso beans to a powder and dump it in a Frap. It enables one to operate an A-380 without the benefit of a co-pilot or navigator)

It was a good time, and brought back some great past memories. Sitting out in an airfield for that many hours may not be for everyone, and we may opt for the twilight show next year!

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