I was accepted into the Novice program and subsequently joined the Vancouver Rowing Club last week – something I had been anxiously awaiting since taking “learn to row” levels 1 and 2 this past summer. I had put my name on the wait list and fortunately a spot opened up for me.

No, it’s not a snobby, elitist club manoeuvre, this wait list – rather that the club is just active and competitive, and the way it works is that Novice spots only open up when enough talented rowers get promoted to Intermediate, and Intermediates only move on once there’s room in the Masters program. Hey, there are only so many seats and boats available.

Anyhoo, I’m very excited about this opportunity for a variety of reasons. First of all, it gets me off my ass three days a week. Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays throughout the winter – October thru March – I will be in the club doing assigned workouts and stretches, or on the water (Saturdays) or erg training (proper rowing machines). Between March and October we’re mostly on the water or working out, or competing at Regattas throughout the pacific northwest.

Secondly, I get to meet a group of similarly-minded people, and branching out from my industry group of acquaintances is healthy and necessary (hey, I love those guys, but I can’t eat, sleep and think wine 24/7, as ridiculous as that sounds).

Thirdly, and most importantly, it will help me to get in better shape. Just since August I’ve noticed – nay, felt – a decided change in my body and general state. I’m sure I’ve put on a few pounds, thanks in no small part to the exquisite dinners and travel during our busy wine months of September, October and November. And the extra weight and lack of activity have contributed negatively to my body, not just in fat, but my shoulders are tight and I’ve strained a muscle in my back (again) recently. Rowing this past summer was divine for my range of motion and musculature. These insistent workouts and training will hopefully do wonders for me physically.

My first day, last Saturday, I rowed approximately 7 km in 2 hours. 2000 meters on the machine for warm-up and then roughly 7000 meters on the water with 3 new teammates. Tonight and Wednesday, we get introduced to our workouts and training regimen. Part of that includes finding our baseline – 20 minutes on the erg at 22-25 strokes per minute (rather fast), which will help my coach figure out who to pair me with so I don’t get teamed up incorrectly and slow everyone down.

The proof will be in the pudding. With great humility this past weekend I asked my wife to take my measurements – waist, chest, shoulders, etc. – so I could have a personal baseline to think back to as the coming months of hard work go by. But as I said, it will really be about how I feel – physically and mentally – and based on how excited I am to be involved and after my first day last weekend, it’s already been good for me. OK, time to get changed and head to the club!

You know the problem with publishing date-relevant or time-sensitive blog posts is that you are subject to their antiquation. As the date in question moves farther into the past and the post becomes historic unto itself, if you haven’t blogged since then, it becomes increasingly apparent. And embarrassing.

Thus this placeholder post.

A few updates… Well, work is finally settling down for me. What was October came and went, and with it, somewhere along the way, November too. I had important work-related people visiting throughout those months, capped on one end by one of the most famous New Zealand winemakers in the world, and on the other by one of the most famous Portuguese winemakers in the world. It was my responsibility throughout to show them a good time, drum up business, introduce them to our wine industry’s movers and shakers, and in the end, get them back to the airport on time and in one piece. Missions accomplished.

As well, I had events taking place both in Vancouver and on Vancouver Island, meaning more than a few ferry rides, some of which you may have seen posted on Twitter or Facebook.

We took over another brand recently – the third major signing this year – but whose name I can’t divulge just yet because the ink isn’t quite dry on the contract.

I hired a new employee last week (first time I’ve ever done that), someone who will be a key addition in terms of adding breadth and reach to our sales force: specializing in restaurants and clubs. Most importantly, she takes our team from 3 members to 4, and considering our growth this year, that was an important addition to make. Another hire will come in the next two or three months.

On the personal front, well, if you know me, you know that I am a fan of making monumental decisions rather than pithy little ones. My wife and I have a few in the pipeline right now, none of which I feel like disclosing until they are either completed or dismissed, but suffice it to say, they’re energizing, captivating and otherwise significant.

Our Christmas is taking shape. Yet again we are trying our best to balance the needs of two families looking to capture the magic of December 25th with their children all in one place. Why the specific day is so important, I don’t understand. I’ve had very special December 26ths and December 27ths before, and since we all know Santa does not exist (sorry to kids reading this) I continue to believe that the 25th is just another day – it’s what you make of it that counts. But I digress.

So we’ll be in Nanoose Bay and Calgary over the holidays, with another rendition of our infamous New Year’s Eve party at our place in Vancouver to polish it off. I am hoping that this year I will not be the first person to call it a night – especially at my own party – which is what happened last year and for which I continue to take jabs from our friends… Here’s hoping.

As our Western society collectively remembers and pays tribute to the horrific events that occurred in the United States 10 years ago today, I have seen many stories wondering, “where were you?”

I vividly remember my September 11th, 2001. In part because it was so unusual compared to everyone I’ve talked to.

Ten years ago today it was my first day of classes of my final semester in my 5th year at the University of Victoria. That year I had finally moved off-campus into a rental house with some friends and acquaintances. My first experience living as a renter, responsible for my own property.

September 11th, 2001 was like any other day for me. And that’s what was weird. I slept in as late as I more or less could, before running out the door to make a bus and get to class. I got up at about 9 or 10am, had a quick breakfast with my new roommates (Mike Kosiba for one, was couch-surfing at the time in my living room) and headed off to school. It was the first day of classes – an introductory day that often felt like a waste of time. The professors would tell us their names, hand out class curriculum outlines, required texts, give us assignment schedules and their list of expectations, and that was about it.

My first class that day was some sort of Geography class. An elective. I’d finished all my requisite courses for my political science degree in year 4, so this final semester was really about credit and courses I thought I might be interested in and really nothing more. One of my other classes was in Sociology – the “Sociology of Leisure” to be exact. Enough said.

Anyhow, my first class was like any other. The auditorium filled with students. I peered around heads and backpacks for anyone I knew who I could sit beside. I didn’t see anyone I recognized. I recall the professor making some comment about what kind of day it was, and that we’d be watching a movie as an introduction to the course material. So we did.

It ended like any other.

Perhaps oddly, but I didn’t think of it at the time, I never walked past any televisions that morning – my schedule simply didn’t have me tracking near any campus watering holes or gathering places.

Two or three more classes came and went rather unremarkably. Just before 2pm that day I finally did walk past the campus pub, Felicita’s. There was quite a crowd outside the entrance, all watching CNN on the tele. I took note, and saw smoke billowing from a large building, with firetrucks pouring massive streams of water on it. CNN reported on the ticker that it was the Pentagon, and that it had been bombed. “Whoa” pretty much summed up my thoughts. The Pentagon? Unreal.

But I had precious little time to make it to my last class of the day – this time on international relations (it would turn out to be the hardest class of my semester, but also one of my most interesting – though I never liked the professor and I don’t think she liked me either).

As I loitered around the hallway with my fellow peers, waiting to enter the classroom, I finally found a friend who I shared the class with. I can’t remember his name now (Jeff or Shaun I think). I exclaimed, “man, did you see the news? The Pentagon got hit with a bomb or something!” He replied, “dude, the World Trade Center buildings are gone.” I literally laughed him off. I remember it clear as day. I said, “no seriously, the Pentagon is on fire.” And he struck back, “I’m not kidding. the World Trade Center is like totally gone. Demolished. The buildings are gone.”

I was entirely and completely puzzled. Shocked. How could it be that I would have 3 classes already that day and not have heard a peep. None of my professors said a word, I didn’t overhear anything, and nothing seemed out of the sort. I didn’t believe it.

A few minutes later our classroom opened, we all took our seats, and the professor made a few remarks.

“I completely understand if, based on what’s happened today, you don’t feel like being here.” She said. “If you need to be at home, or call a loved one, or be with friends, that’s fine. Today we’re going to talk about what’s happened, discuss why, and just ease into the course material.”

My last class of the day and someone finally decides to talk about this. Over the next hour I would learn about what happened – entirely anecdotally and without evidence. Everyone had seen or heard about it all day long and were beyond that it happened; now they were discussing the reasons why it happened, while I sat there completely bewildered.

I wrote on page one in my class book: “September 11, 2001. The world will never be the same.”

It’s as though the world completely skipped past me. Those who know me are aware that I am keenly interested in the world around me – a current events geek, so this took me by great surprise.

To think about how an event like this might be reported if it were to happen today, with all of our technology, gadgets and communication devices, I’d barely be in the dark for a few minutes, let alone 8 hours.

As an enthusiast of architecture, of travel, of politics and current events, beyond the emotions and tragedy, September 11, 2001 was a fascinating day that compelled me nearly continuously from that point forward. In great ways, and in horrible ways, to watch how the world responded, how the United States responded, was remarkable in every and any way. I will never forget that day. The world did indeed change forever.

I wrapped up yesterday’s meetings in fine fashion. My last meeting was roundly enjoyed and between it and my earlier engagements, I think I got a lot of new business and met a lot of nice people. As I left my final meeting I thought about how well things had gone – looking forward to watching my sales increase in this market. I got to my car, set my iPad on the roof while loading my wine in the trunk, got in the car and left for my hotel. Upon arriving at the hotel, still smiling from the day’s success, I grabbed my keys, my wallet, my phone and my iPad. My iPad…… was not in the car.

I remembered hearing a clunk after making a righthand turn soon after leaving my last appointment. Oh. My. God. I’d left it on the roof of my car! That was the clunk. My iPad fell from the top of my 6′ tall SUV onto the road below, about 5 km away. I could not believe it.

I quickly got back in the car and sped away.

I arrived at my last appointment, parked and began looking. I was thinking to myself, how could it survive that fall? How could I be so stupid? The iPad was nowhere to be found. I walked about three blocks and nothing – no sign. Whistler is a bustling action-adventure sports oriented town, in the summer it is full of 18-35 year olds mountain biking, hiking, smoking and drinking, and otherwise living the good life (a bit of a generalization but not inaccurate). I must admit after not finding my iPad, I wondered who had grabbed it and how they would enjoy their new discovery.

But then my phone rang. Someone on the other end asked, “umm, did you lose your iPad?”

“YES,” I said. And I was just now desperately looking for it. She told me she had it, and they would meet me at a location nearby. I was so relieved!

A young man named André, my age, approached after I’d arrived at the agreed location and handed it over. He asked how I’d lost it, and remarked how it was barely damaged. I thanked him profusely, told him my story, thanked him again and we both left.

But for a good scrape on one corner and a couple of scratches on the back side, it is remarkably undamaged. The screen is perfect and its function and use is unaltered, as I type this to you on it.

The rest of my day was, obviously, fantastic. The restaurant and stores I visited, I was beaming and not short on praise or enthusiasm. “How is your day going?” “Excellent!!! Yours?” I’d say with a big grin.

So there you have it. Apple makes quality products that can survive big falls (theres even a bit of a tread mark on the cover, so I’m wondering if it wasn’t run over, too) and perfect strangers can be wonderfully helpful and generous even facing the prospect of finding lost, expensive gadgets on the road.

I am humbled and appreciative.

We nestled into our ocean-view suite at the Fairmont Kea Lani at Wailea. Perched five storeys above Polo Beach we rarely ventured out, except for a bit of shopping here and there, a day of travelling to Iao State Park, Lahaina and Kaanapali, and a few hedonistic dinners to some of the region’s best restaurants – Wolfgang Puck’s Spago at the Four Seasons for example (drool!).

While this vacation was unquestionably excellent and satisfying in all aspects, I would have to rank Maui behind the splendours of the Big Island, which we visited three years ago. Maui is indeed a tropical paradise, but feels somewhat congested, staid and quite touristy. And very expensive. I appreciated the ‘undiscovered’ feeling of the Big Island and its variety of activities in comparison. Maui is a great vacation spot, make no mistake, but if choosing a favourite, it finishes second.

Here are some photos of our trip (click ‘em to make ‘em bigger!). More will be posted to my online photo gallery in days to come. Enjoy.

"Lunch" in the Air Canada Maple Leaf Lounge at YVR prior to departure. Not a bad chick-pea salad, but truly the worst mushroom soup i've ever eaten.

First light the morning after arrival. This is the view from our balcony (lanai).

From our room, across the grounds, Polo Beach (great snorkeling), looking across to Lanai on the horizon.

Polo Beach. Exquisitely fine sand - just fantastic. A very nice beach!

Humungous bamboo growing in the courtyard lobby of our hotel.

At Tommy Bahamas Tropical Cafe (several US locations - highly recommended): one of the tastiest things we ate all week: baked macadamia nut-crusted goat cheese with mango salsa and flat bread. OMG! The lemon drop martini...thought it was a good idea at the time...

Visiting Iao State Park. Blast from the past - I'd visited here with my parents over 20 years ago!

The Iao Needle geological formation.

On the road from Kahului/Wailea to Lahaina/Kaanapali. Just crazy beautiful scenery and a perfect day.

On the highway to Lahaina - as the lefthand coastline disappears, that's where Kihei and Wailea are.

The ever-popular (and populous!) Kaanapali Beach off Whalers Village. Black Rock is the peninsula in the distance - a famous locale where I snorkeled more than 20 years ago... Found this area too commercial and busy for my tastes nowadays.

Kaanapali Beach

Maalaea Harbour, half-way between Wailea and Lahaina - where many snorkel, sail and fishing charters depart from. Wailea coastline in the distance.

Clothes shopping... sigh

"The Shops at Wailea." A collection of high-end stores and other amenities/accessories. Rolex boutique, Louis Vuitton... And stuff for normal people too. Tori Richard (on the right) sells fantastic "Aloha" shirts for men; dresses for ladies. Got some flip-flops near here too.

Awake and shooting pictures at 4am. Don't ask... Great scenery though - especially the lightening storm in the distance.

A very quiet hotel lobby at 5am. Serene.

Early morning over the pool deck.

Looking back at the hotel from near the beach. Our room is second from the top, second from the right on the near building.

Polo Beach. The abandoned/uninhabited Kahoolawe Island in the distance and the little sliver in front of it is Molokini.

Fresh water shower station to rinse your post-beach salty body and sandy feet.

Deserted Polo Beach at 6am. Can't figure out why?

Closer look at Kahoolawe (completely deforested, grazed down to nothing by ranching cows and sheep, and then bombed by the navy and air force - poor island) and Molokini in front.

The Fairmont Kea Lani property seen from Polo Beach

A beautiful walking path lining the coastline and a nice sunrise. Northwestern Maui - Haleakala volcano, Lahaina side - seen in the distance.

Sunrise over some of the private estates next to our hotel. Listings showed these half-duplexes for sale for up to $6 million. What recession?

Which way to the beach? This way!

8am = take your stations at the beach!

Later in the day, the aforementioned private villas on the left. Fantastic snorkelling/diving off this rugged coastline. Another perfect day in Hawaii.

My favourite Hawaiian flower - the ever-popular Plumeria. Lovely. Bye Hawaii!

more pictures to come…

* = sometimes a polite word used in place of bizarre.

But that’s not why I titled this post as such.

click the pic for bigger version

We live in a townhouse in Vancouver – differing from an apartment in that we have a front entrance and what could be considered a generous ‘yard’ comprised of a patio, flowerbed and other garden space. My wife has done her best to monopolize all of it with plant matter leaving precious little square footage for people to enjoy, but to me her affinity for gardening is one of the things that makes her so cute.

I don’t mind toiling in the garden from time to time. Usually my lack of patience requires more stimulating activities. But every so often I find solace and peace in gardening, seeing interesting and beautiful plants growing in pots and beds.

I’ve grown particularly fond of a certain type of magnolia tree recently – the Royal Star. As spring sprung over the past two months, the neighbourhood magnolias have been out and I’ve noticed this particular species here and there. It has pretty, white, aromatic flowers that, as they bloom, develop finger-like dexterity with their petals. The flowers only last a couple of weeks, followed by what could be described as normal, everyday leaves.

Pushing the limits, perhaps, of what a tree is capable of (not to mention our yard), we found a 12″ potted Royal Star magnolia at our favourite garden store a couple of weeks ago on sale for the ridiculous price of $25 and bought it for our little garden. Soon after we found a nice, large porcelain pot for it and it now resides in the sunniest corner of our yard. The flowers are long gone, but I’m already looking forward to them again next year. Time to read up and make sure I take care of it, since potted trees require a bit more care.

Feeling… Melancholy. Maybe it’s from the Trentmöller I’m listening to on iTunes.

Hmm.. I smell burning. Not a stroke… Let’s go find out what’s up.

This post is a couple of weeks late; most of the city’s cherry tree blossoms have now given way (rained on, blown off or otherwise fallen like heavenly pink snow) to leaves, but here’s a look at some anyway. This photo was taken on April 11 near English Bay beach in Vancouver’s West End.

It’s been a cold start to spring – for Vancouver that is. The trees are heavy with buds, already a month behind, awaiting some heat from which to spread their canopies. Us citizens as well.

After nine good years, and what we estimate was 3,600 lattes and hot chocolates, our venerable Starbucks Barista™ espresso machine finally bit the dust. The steam wand sheared off in the middle of the shaft during a wipe-down last week. It was both sad and relieving, I must say. I am of mixed emotions since this is very much indeed the end of an era.

I bought the copper beast while working at Starbucks – Victoria’s Broadmead location to be exact, during one of Starbucks’s famous Christmas sales. Fresh out of university, and pursuing more of a social life than a career, Starbucks gave me enough employment to pay the bills. As a staff member I recall that I was entitled to something like 30% off hardware, and the Christmas-time 30% off sale further compounded my savings. I think I got the thing for about $200.

But who knew it would hang on this long.

I babied it, that’s for sure. I mastered its use, and always wiped it down and cleared the steam pressure from the boiler before shutdown. But it was a long time dying. A fully manual machine, it required making the coffee by hand – a practice Starbucks itself abolished in their cafes nearly 7 years ago in favour of fully automatic machines.

We’d been planning on getting a new machine soon anyway. I’d been talking about it for a couple of months. I wanted a fancy, new machine that did all the work for me, save for some key artisanal aspects like steaming milk (the ones that do that for you are just gross – think of the milk build up in the lines – yuck!).

And so, as I said, I was a bit excited when our old unit broke, since this entitled me to a new one. Good timing financially too, with a couple big cheques arriving these days.

Lots of research led me to Jura: a Swiss company known for pretty machines that do a great job of making coffee. I bought the ENA 5, ENA being a new line for Jura that is compact (relatively speaking), beautiful and fully functional. This is one of those machines where you pour a half-pound of beans in the top, press a button, and get a fully customizable espresso out the other end in about 30 seconds. I can program water volume per shot, temperature of the shot and the amount of coffee beans per shot. It even cleans itself.

We’ve been through half a pound of coffee since getting it last Friday, and I must say I’m quite impressed, though still perfecting the programming of each serving.