Linked up by Michael Gravel on August 4, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 29, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Crikey! That’s a low price for a new flat!

Huh? It’s so out there and out of character for this city that I have to wonder if it’s a spoof of some kind. Bizarre.

Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 29, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 23, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 23, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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If the novel is the vinyl record, the anthology is the mixtape—it defies escape into any particular work in exchange for seeing the whole of something bigger. The meaning is in the collection—in the composition of distractions—not in any kind of singular reading experience.

Great thoughts here, and the final paragraph had me slamming my fists to the table and shouting “yes!”.

Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 23, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 17, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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These images probe a space that has been relatively undocumented: the private/public space of the car in motion, one of the most intensely personal public spaces in our modern landscape. We can all recall moments of exhilaration, pathos, fear, sex and death experienced in the interior of our cars — the place where we often have our most meaningful conversations, our most catastrophic arguments, and our deepest insights.

Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 17, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on July 17, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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The only thing I have to do is throw in a new deck. The ‘ol factory auto reverse cassette deck, as charmingly ancient as it is with Dolby B and all, just doesn’t cut it these days. It’s very tempting to do this rig up right with a deck, an amp or two, a pair of tens and some separates. Back in the old days I spent a shitload of money on car audio gear: Electronic crossover, CD changer, two amps, 10” subs, gold wiring, and even a 1 farad 20V capacitor (truly gratuitous and unnecessary, but I was young with money to burn). Installed it mostly myself and it worked amazingly. These days, I can’t imagine spending that kind of time and money or a car stereo. For the new Buick, I bought a modest Sony head unit with iPod control. $250.00, all in.

In a way it’s tough to say goodbye to my transit commute. I spent six years on the scows. My daily journeys were fodder for some of my writing, not the least of which was Streetrag.com, a writing project I am very proud of and one that would not have existed had I not been a bus rider. Poems were birthed while riding the rigs, and I maintain that public transit is the key to seeing how people truly live and operate in this city. Although my commute approached 90 minutes on each end, I rarely felt the time was wasted. While riding I often pulled out my notebook and wrote, and I got in many hours of listening time. All of that aside, it’s awfully nice to be able to go somewhere without having to leave an hour ahead of time. And it’s nice to get home from work in a half hour. With an increasingly busy home life, time is the reason I am now a driver. Owning a car is a bit of a mixed blessing. While obviously nice for getting around, there are the added headaches of traffic and parking. There is added expense as well, but the increase in auto insurance premiums is offset nicely by not needing a bus pass (a $74.00 monthly touch). Gas is a factor, an extra $200.00 per month. And there’s a niggle in the back of my head about being a two-car family.

After spending six years years on the buses, I have to say that it would be very difficult to rely on Edmonton Transit as one’s sole mode of transportation. Of course, this conclusion is contingent upon one’s geography and situation. If you are lucky enough to live on a bus route that takes you directly to work, that’s awesome. That is not the case for the majority of riders, I expect. The city has grown much and transit / basic roadway infrastructure has struggled to keep up. Add to that the headaches and delays of winter weather and a short road construction season, and you’ve got a public system more frustrating than effective. A comprehensive, far-reaching LRT system is what is really required to get the public excited about transit, and to use it willingly. Optimistic boosterism and hyperbolic predictions of future service aside, a truly inclusive and usable train system is probably a good fifty years away.

Riding the bus has a romantic edge if you look at it the right way, but cars are (or were) the romantic accoutrement. The open road tugs mightily at our hearts and identities. Attitudes towards cars have shifted considerably in the past twenty years, maybe for the better. Despite recent happenings – an economic meltdown and the decline of The Big Three; a general trend towards fuel efficiency – the automobile retains its romantic appeal, albeit with an asterisk. Slowly but surely, it has become socially despicable to drive large, gas-guzzling vehicles. There’s even a website that features people giving Hummer H2 SUVs the finger (here it is, called FUH2.com). Along with other titanic SUV’s, The Hummer is an easy target. But it’s not far off to apply the same tactics to other, less acknowledged gas-guzzlers: Minivans, Jeeps, and big sedans like the Chrysler 300 and anything from Cadillac. There’s also a new crop of super-sexy retro-muscle machines: The Challenger, the Camaro, and the Mustang. All of them look super hot, and who wouldn’t want to buy one and immediately embark on a coast to coast road trip, but no matter how you wrap them and spin the fuel economy specs they’re all gas guzzlers with only two doors. With automakers trying to weather the biggest shitstorm of their lives, this latest crop of retro inspired vehicles feels like a last-ditch attempt to capture the romance, edge, and credibility of days past. Time will tell if they do, but the future isn’t bright for vehicles like this.

While I say goodbye to public transit and embrace vehicle ownership once again, it isn’t without a bit of hedging. Increased expense is one thing, but increased footprint is another. We’re now a two car family, something that we wanted to avoid but now it seems inevitable. Like I said, it all comes down to time. With a vehicle, I’m saving a couple hours a day and increasing my mobility by a large factor. I’ve come to the conclusion that the savings in time is worth more than anything. Time is short, and there’s much to do.

— Michael Gravel

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A few years back, I registered the domain michaelandkerry.com. I was planning to ask my then girlfriend Kerry Mulholland to marry me. My intention (if she said yes) was to build a wedding website to help out the guests, take song requests, etc. She accepted my proposal and were wed on September 8, 2007. It was one of the best days of my life. Not only did I become a husband, I became a step-father to a wonderful young woman. I love that day.

After the wedding, I left the site online as a sort of reminder. It gave me comfort to have it out there on the web, available for perusal at any time. A few weeks ago, out of the blue, I received an email from a guy named Michael. He was planning a wedding with his bride-to-be, Kerry. He had the same idea – build a wedding website at michaelandkerry.com. He asked if I would transfer the domain to him and I did so with no hesitation. No money changed hands…it seemed like the right way to do it (opportunistic domain owners are a peeve of mine). No big for me, I simply archived michaelandkerry.com at a different location so I’d always have access to it. A few days after the domain transfer went through, I came home to find a large fruit basket from Edible Arrangements on my kitchen table. If you haven’t seen one of these things, you have to order one. Seriously. It’s a fruit basket that looks like a flower arrangement, complete with corrugated melon and chocolate dipped pineapple. The arrangements are beautiful and completely delicious (not exactly cheap, however). At first I was perplexed. I hadn’t been that nice to anyone lately to warrant such a great gift. I opened the card to discover that it was sent by the other Michael, as a thank you for the domain. He got my address from the whois data attached to the domain. Awesome! And completely unexpected. It was a gesture that many wouldn’t have bothered with.

The internet is a weird and wonderful place sometimes. Cheers, Michael. All the best.

— Michael Gravel

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Turns out my doc’s acid reflux diagnosis was wrong, or at least partially wrong. I had an abdominal ultrasound a month ago and the results were unambiguous: Gall stones. That explained my violent episodes. Very soon, I go under the knife to have the fucker removed. This will be my second surgery in two years, although on the scale of surgical procedures a gall bladder removal (Cholecystectomy) is nowhere near what I went through in December 2007. It’s a day surgery followed by a week of recovery at home. I can’t tell you how glad I am that I don’t have to spend a night in the joint.

My abdomen is gonna look like mottled ass. In addition to the 12” twizzler from my open heart surgery, I have three scars from tubes that look like they were made by a 9mm, and I have a 10” gash on my side from a childhood kidney surgery. Add to that the four incisions made in this little procedure, and I’ve got a pretty good assortment of scars. And I’m well aware that scars and damage have a shelf life. Scars themselves are not medals. The expectation of the human spirit is that wounds will heal and the wounded will live to forget and fight again. So says Springsteen:

Finding your identity in your wounds, the places you’ve been beat up, is a very dangerous thing to do. We all wear the things we’ve survived with some honour. But the honour is in wearing those things, and also transcending them.

Here here. I guess I’m still trying to live up to that. Maybe that’s the lifework of everyone.

I’ll let you know how the procedure goes. I’m going to try and get my gall bladder preserved in a jar…keep it on my mantle like some sort of demented trophy. Either that, or feed it to the dogs.

— Michael Gravel

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Linked up by Michael Gravel on April 27, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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Linked up by Michael Gravel on April 20, 2009 · Permalink to this item on Michaelgravel.com
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The cafe in the square is closing its doors and the bums are setting up for the night. The orange hue of the bus route placards – comforting on nights like this – cut through and make their way to places where people live and its sad that not many live down here, but many still do; there’s still a bit of life around here. Trying to find it though…not so easy. You can find a bit over there and maybe some over here, but there’s no real pulse, no beating in the neck. You might get a faint pulse in some other places, but that beat may be tempered by raw blood or stupidity. I’d like a coffee but the cafe’s chairlegs are all skyward. What harm would it do to stay open for a few minutes longer? Glance at my watch…nearly ten. Time to beat it. Tap my pencil to my notebook…shoe soles to the west.

— Michael Gravel