I wanted to mention one other aspect of the suitcase losing ordeal - specifically how the luggage carousel at the Edmonton Airport is designed to maximize frustration in the event of lost baggage.
The luggage carousel at the Edmonton airport is split in half by a wall. On one side of the wall, the airline passengers have access to the baggage on the carousel. On the other side, the airline employees presumably (and ideally) place the baggage onto the conveyor belt. To get from one side of the wall to the other, the conveyor belt (and luggage) must pass through openings in the wall, which are curtained with black rubber blinds that shield us from knowing the terrifying truth about what happens on the other side of the wall. These curtains are only pushed aside by luggage passing from one realm to the other.
Each suitcase then takes the following voyage. To make this description more entertaining, I suggest you assume that this journey is accompanied by Raymond Scott's Powerhouse (see this link for the full composition). First, the suitcase is placed on the conveyor belt by an employee. The suitcase then passes through the opening and is available to be retrieved by the passengers. The suitcase is then either claimed, or it is taken by the conveyor belt to a second opening which leads back to the employee side of the wall. The suitcase then continues this journey until it is removed from the carousel by an employee or an airline passenger.
After most of the crowd has collected their luggage and moved on, us unlucky few are left to stare agonizingly at those black rubber blinds that cover the entrance to the passenger side of the wall, endlessly waiting for it to our turn to skip to the conveyor belt, collect our luggage, and merrily be on our way. And every time those blinds begin to buckle so as to allow some suitcase to pass, you momentarily have some hope. "It might be my bag this time," you think. You even manage to convince yourself that you are finally going to get to leave this miserable place.
But of course, it is not your bag that peeks through those black rubber blinds. It is that same stupid hard-plastic neon pink suitcase that has already made at least 30 trips around the carousel while you have been waiting. The few of us who have not already taken our frustration out on some poor airport employee are left to sigh in disgust and wait until our spirits have been fully broken by the next appearance of that hideously cruel bag.
I really hate that hard-plastic neon pink suitcase. I really do.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
A Waste of Good Lasagna
It seems everyone has had some sort of experience with an airline losing their luggage. I have always been extremely lucky in this regard - especially considering how often I have been travelling by plane in the past year and a half. Well today, my personal percentages starting tipping back towards the mean.
I should have known I was in for trouble when I found Toronto's Pearson Airport in a state of chaos, with all the lines for those who checked in on the web, those who were late, and those who checked in on spot (and seemingly tagged their own bags), all jumbled up. I believe the line I was in actually got re-purposed while I was in it, without my knowledge.
I'm not going to bore you with (many of) the details, because you've heard the same song and dance before. What distinguishes this story from the others (or at least some), is that my missing bag (I did find one of them) contained frozen lasagna.
It has been family tradition that my Nonna cooks a massive plate of lasagna for Christmas. Since the following day is my birthday, and lasagna is my favourite pasta, I inherit what is left over. The significant portion that was not consumed either on Christmas or during the holidays, was then to be brought to Edmonton, where I could keep it frozen, and eat it from time to time.
Well, I have yet to receive my bag and having been almost 24 hours since I took the lasagna out of the freezer, I think it is safe to say that my plans have been foiled.
I should have known I was in for trouble when I found Toronto's Pearson Airport in a state of chaos, with all the lines for those who checked in on the web, those who were late, and those who checked in on spot (and seemingly tagged their own bags), all jumbled up. I believe the line I was in actually got re-purposed while I was in it, without my knowledge.
I'm not going to bore you with (many of) the details, because you've heard the same song and dance before. What distinguishes this story from the others (or at least some), is that my missing bag (I did find one of them) contained frozen lasagna.
It has been family tradition that my Nonna cooks a massive plate of lasagna for Christmas. Since the following day is my birthday, and lasagna is my favourite pasta, I inherit what is left over. The significant portion that was not consumed either on Christmas or during the holidays, was then to be brought to Edmonton, where I could keep it frozen, and eat it from time to time.
Well, I have yet to receive my bag and having been almost 24 hours since I took the lasagna out of the freezer, I think it is safe to say that my plans have been foiled.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
It's the least I could do
Today, my floor hockey team, The Eulers, had our last game of the term. In honour of Patrick Roy, I was the goaltender. In honour of Wendel Clark, I allowed 17 goals.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Another Great Concert
Last Sunday, a friend of mine invited a group of people, including myself, to watch a concert by "Hey Rosetta." To be honest, I have never heard of them before, but I'm pretty much always up for going out with friends for live music.
The band is from Newfoundland, and as a typical Torontonian, I made the mistake of assuming that we would be hearing maritimer folk music. Well ... I am an idiot. Instead, I got to see one of the best live Rock n' Roll shows that I have ever seen.
The show was at the "Pawn Shop," a bar/club on Whyte Avenue. The "Pawn Shop" is equipped with a dance floor which was packed with about 75-100 people, whenever there was a band on stage. I was actually surprised at how busy the place was considering it was a Sunday night, and the headlining act didn't actually start until abou 11:30pm. Admittedly, university students had the next day off, but this is still Edmonton, and I find most places close really early on Sundays in this city.
I'm not exactly a music critic, but I knows what I likes, and I likes this. They used a variety of instruments on top of the standard drum, guitar, bass, and vocal setup - including the prominent use of the violin. Again, I can't really ask for more from a concert than hearing great music, seeing the band enjoying themselves up on stage, and having most of the bar rocking out with them.
Due to my lack of tact, I had a nice little moment when I went up to the merchandise table near the end of the "Hey Rosetta" set. I was hoping to beat the lineup which was clearly going to build as soon as they were done playing, so I sneaked up near the end of their set. The table was still close enough to the stage and dance floor that I could still see what was going on. What I didn't realize at the time was that each band was selling their own merchandise, and so I would have to wait until after "Hey Rosetta" was done in order to get a CD.
Anyways, I foolishly go up to the two guys sitting at the table and am told that I have to wait. At this point I recognize the two as members of "Two Hours in Traffic," a solid pop rock band from PEI. Me, being the super-smooth guy that I am, went with the following response:
"Oh ... Sorry about that ... yeah ... Anyways, nice set guys ... ummmm .. real good job ... yeah, that was great ... thanks anyways." I then scurried away as quickly as possible. Yup, accidentally implying that I'd rather spend my money on another band right to the face of a few musicians (of which I actually enjoyed) - all in a day's work for me.
The band is from Newfoundland, and as a typical Torontonian, I made the mistake of assuming that we would be hearing maritimer folk music. Well ... I am an idiot. Instead, I got to see one of the best live Rock n' Roll shows that I have ever seen.
The show was at the "Pawn Shop," a bar/club on Whyte Avenue. The "Pawn Shop" is equipped with a dance floor which was packed with about 75-100 people, whenever there was a band on stage. I was actually surprised at how busy the place was considering it was a Sunday night, and the headlining act didn't actually start until abou 11:30pm. Admittedly, university students had the next day off, but this is still Edmonton, and I find most places close really early on Sundays in this city.
I'm not exactly a music critic, but I knows what I likes, and I likes this. They used a variety of instruments on top of the standard drum, guitar, bass, and vocal setup - including the prominent use of the violin. Again, I can't really ask for more from a concert than hearing great music, seeing the band enjoying themselves up on stage, and having most of the bar rocking out with them.
Due to my lack of tact, I had a nice little moment when I went up to the merchandise table near the end of the "Hey Rosetta" set. I was hoping to beat the lineup which was clearly going to build as soon as they were done playing, so I sneaked up near the end of their set. The table was still close enough to the stage and dance floor that I could still see what was going on. What I didn't realize at the time was that each band was selling their own merchandise, and so I would have to wait until after "Hey Rosetta" was done in order to get a CD.
Anyways, I foolishly go up to the two guys sitting at the table and am told that I have to wait. At this point I recognize the two as members of "Two Hours in Traffic," a solid pop rock band from PEI. Me, being the super-smooth guy that I am, went with the following response:
"Oh ... Sorry about that ... yeah ... Anyways, nice set guys ... ummmm .. real good job ... yeah, that was great ... thanks anyways." I then scurried away as quickly as possible. Yup, accidentally implying that I'd rather spend my money on another band right to the face of a few musicians (of which I actually enjoyed) - all in a day's work for me.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Halloween in the City of Champions
Being a suburb kid most of my life, this year marked only my second Halloween in the downtown area of a city.
Most families with children live outside the city so there isn't any trick-or-treating inside Edmonton. The fact that most people who actually live in the downtown area, do so in apartment buildings and condos further dissuades this act. Instead, the bars and clubs step forward as the main driving force behind the celebration. Each venue is decked out in very standard Halloween paraphernalia in order to host a Halloween bash aimed at eighteen to twenty-something year olds - mainly by promising the involvement of women with revealing costumes.
People simply use the day as another reason to party and celebrate, and there is certainly nothing wrong with that. But if you are into transforming your natural habitat into something more gruesome with the aim of terrifying children into an appreciation for the dark, creepy, and unknown, away from the city is where you want to be.
Most families with children live outside the city so there isn't any trick-or-treating inside Edmonton. The fact that most people who actually live in the downtown area, do so in apartment buildings and condos further dissuades this act. Instead, the bars and clubs step forward as the main driving force behind the celebration. Each venue is decked out in very standard Halloween paraphernalia in order to host a Halloween bash aimed at eighteen to twenty-something year olds - mainly by promising the involvement of women with revealing costumes.
People simply use the day as another reason to party and celebrate, and there is certainly nothing wrong with that. But if you are into transforming your natural habitat into something more gruesome with the aim of terrifying children into an appreciation for the dark, creepy, and unknown, away from the city is where you want to be.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
The Longest Game
Tonight, the Tampa Bay Rays take on the Philadelphia Phillies in the third game of the World Series. All signs point to a long, tightly fought series between two fantastic teams, and yet I'm having trouble bringing myself to actually watch.
Now I love baseball. I listened to most of the Jays games this year using MLB's Gameday Radio service - even when the Jays were out of contention for a playoff spot. And then in contention. And then back out of contention.
My disinterest is not an indictment of the teams. Just because there are no incredibly obvious story lines (curses to break, vendettas, etc.) does not mean that there is no reason to watch. High quality baseball is certainly enough for me.
But playoff baseball can be incredibly frustrating for a number of reasons, with my biggest complaint being that the games take so much longer than they do in the regular season.
Just to illustrate this point, consider that in the years 2006 and 2007, the average regular season game took approximately 172 and 175 minutes respectively (the data is based on game logs from Retrosheet.org). For the 29 games in the current playoffs, the average game length has been 204 minutes long. Even when I remove the two extra-inning games which the Red Sox played - each of which took over 5 hours despite the fact that the games were only 11 and 12 innings long - the average game length is still 195 minutes for a game. While I have no problem watching extra baseball, I do have a problem with having the same amount of baseball take extra time.
Note, these numbers come with some caveats. Twenty-nine games is a small sample size. Unfortunately, I currently can't find easy-to-manipulate playoff game logs and I am not about to look over hundreds of individual game pages on baseball-reference.com (where the current info is from). Another aspect that may be skewing the results, is that certain teams in the playoffs, such as the Red Sox, are also known for having longer games. However, this effect seems to be exacerbated in the playoffs.
Having the pace of a sport decrease is not necessarily inherently evil, but I think it is problematic for baseball. Keep in mind, this is a sport which is played almost every day. With the World Series games starting at 8pm EST, it can be difficult to become personally invested in a series. Not only is an incredible time commitment required of anyone who wants to enjoy as much of a series as possible (almost 3 and a half hours a day), but people also have to work in the morning. Not to mention Mountain Time folk who enjoy listening to games during dinner, and still like having time to accomplish things afterwards (5 o'clock games are awesome).
One of the causes of this problem is very obvious - specifically, the increased length of between-inning commercials that the game is forced to work around. However, there is probably more to the story than that. For example, managers may be making more pitching changes, or pitchers might be slowing down since they are often asked to pitch more frequently in the playoffs. I'll leave the hypothesizing to another post and instead just hope that MLB tries to address the problem.
Now I love baseball. I listened to most of the Jays games this year using MLB's Gameday Radio service - even when the Jays were out of contention for a playoff spot. And then in contention. And then back out of contention.
My disinterest is not an indictment of the teams. Just because there are no incredibly obvious story lines (curses to break, vendettas, etc.) does not mean that there is no reason to watch. High quality baseball is certainly enough for me.
But playoff baseball can be incredibly frustrating for a number of reasons, with my biggest complaint being that the games take so much longer than they do in the regular season.
Just to illustrate this point, consider that in the years 2006 and 2007, the average regular season game took approximately 172 and 175 minutes respectively (the data is based on game logs from Retrosheet.org). For the 29 games in the current playoffs, the average game length has been 204 minutes long. Even when I remove the two extra-inning games which the Red Sox played - each of which took over 5 hours despite the fact that the games were only 11 and 12 innings long - the average game length is still 195 minutes for a game. While I have no problem watching extra baseball, I do have a problem with having the same amount of baseball take extra time.
Note, these numbers come with some caveats. Twenty-nine games is a small sample size. Unfortunately, I currently can't find easy-to-manipulate playoff game logs and I am not about to look over hundreds of individual game pages on baseball-reference.com (where the current info is from). Another aspect that may be skewing the results, is that certain teams in the playoffs, such as the Red Sox, are also known for having longer games. However, this effect seems to be exacerbated in the playoffs.
Having the pace of a sport decrease is not necessarily inherently evil, but I think it is problematic for baseball. Keep in mind, this is a sport which is played almost every day. With the World Series games starting at 8pm EST, it can be difficult to become personally invested in a series. Not only is an incredible time commitment required of anyone who wants to enjoy as much of a series as possible (almost 3 and a half hours a day), but people also have to work in the morning. Not to mention Mountain Time folk who enjoy listening to games during dinner, and still like having time to accomplish things afterwards (5 o'clock games are awesome).
One of the causes of this problem is very obvious - specifically, the increased length of between-inning commercials that the game is forced to work around. However, there is probably more to the story than that. For example, managers may be making more pitching changes, or pitchers might be slowing down since they are often asked to pitch more frequently in the playoffs. I'll leave the hypothesizing to another post and instead just hope that MLB tries to address the problem.
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