I went on stage in front of a paying audience for the first time as a comedic improviser. Was I funny? I don’t know. The audience seemed to be making the right sounds. They laughed. And just like the first time I kept thinking to myself ‘Oh my God I can’t believe I’m really doing this!’ It ended in a big mess and it was over before I knew it.

I have to thank Alistair Cooke and his company Instant Theatre for making the deflowering an easy process as possible. February 12, 2012 marks one year. Just one year ago I took my first Saturday drop in improv class. A year of taking courses at VTSL, goofing around at the odd Urban Improv challenge night, reading improv books from cover to cover and taking in as many shows as humanly possible. But none of that invited me on stage the way the course work is designed at Instant Theatre.

And just like the first time, I want to do it again.

(There are those perpetually happy people who never have a bad thing to say about anyone. How do they do it? They don’t blog. Hell, they reveal nothing personal at all).

Most of the buffoonery I speak of is reactionary complaining. Yes, I am complaining about people complaining. When 20,000,000 people die of flooding, life is pretty darn good when all we have to complain about are things that won’t kill us.

This picture is of the guard shack just after crossing the Upper Lillooet bridge and climbing a short gravel road hill. The bridge is normally well above the river and so this area is quite a distance above and in fact is posted as a “safe zone”. You can see the safe zone sign just behind the little shack. The bridge deck floating in the debri is not, I have read, the Upper Lillooet bridge but I am not so sure about that. It looks a lot like it and seems to be in the right position.

The next “Safe Zone” was the Upper Lillooet Campground which I am told is surrounded by debri but otherwise OK.

The last time the three of us were hanging out on Commercial Drive, my old stomping ground, we stopped by a favourite  coffee shop we like to think of as ours. It’s obvious by the crowd of customers always inside and the many others hovering around the exterior that this is the way a great many people think of the place. To me, all of Commercial Drive is a little like that. Commercial Drive is a place many people call their hood. I don’t mean a location you tell someone you live. No. There is a connection that almost becomes part of one’s personality, or is it the other way around? Who knows. It’s more than simply an address of where you live.

As we were enjoying our coffee on the outside patio our nine year old son asked us if he could go play in the park across the street. He’s familiar with the park. He’s been there before. It’s the one that smells like “Man Pee”. I’m talking about Grandview Park.

His little adventure of crossing the street at the light and finding his way to the playground all by himself, (we could see him the entire time), was cut short when a yelling match broke out between two groups of people which quickly escalated into a fight. He came straight back. A few minutes later police cars where there. It was an embarrassing display.

So now I am hearing that people don’t want the park to change? That I am possibly a gentrified yuppie if I think it might be a good idea to make it safe for kids? A sense of ownership, reduced to a square block, by one group of people. At the very least, let’s have signs, “This is our park. No fun for kids”

The Approved plans (PDF)

And here are the “Owners” of Grandview Park

I’m reading the book The 4-Hour Workweek which hasn’t been what I thought it was. It’s a lot better. Just some quick thoughts.

Two questions come to mind.

1. How does he even know this is possible?
2. Why are we doing this the old fashioned way in the first place?

The idea of money in your hand being physically deposited is a concept on it’s way out and it takes a different sort of thinking to understand crediting and debiting. It’s the way everything is going. Photo albums, record albums. He told his friends he has a Lady Gaga album. It struck me as funny. Having it on his ipod is having an Album.

The digital world started with words and images and now it has hit every part of our lives. Even money. He might be better off playing around and learning with a Paypal account if they didn’t have an age restriction.

Crazy going outside on a BC Ferry during a storm like this but you only live once.

A little too busy to be riding a tandem bike and holding a video camera in one hand but I like the challenge.

What co-op living is teaching me is that we are “the man”.

I gave up home ownership, (namely strata corporation) for co-op living in 2006 and I sold my tenanted condo on May 31st 2008 during a real estate peak and I wait with a pocket of cash for that proverbial expected downturn in the real estate market to pounce on a deal (or two). And I wait. And I wait. And now I worry but still I wait but I won’t go into that right now.

Often an active board member of any strata corporation I owned in, I did the same thing when moving here to Helen’s Court Co-op and looked to offer my time on committees to help run the place. The big difference here was the pull to be a part of it rather than being talked into it. I was asked to join but also drawn to a position on the board not from the feeling of ownership but from a feeling of community. For this reason most of the people sitting on the board of the co-op want to be there and as I am nearing the end of my 2 year stint, will be giving up the position to a new and willing person. The board is fresh and ever evolving.

Things to know about this co-op: We are required to only charge a maximum of 70% market rate. At the same time we must subsidize a certain percentage of the homes. The 1, 2 and 3 bedroom homes must be occupied appropriately. We can not make a profit and our only subsidization equals about 4% of our operating cost. It’s like the setting for a sims game.

Because we have a wider variety of people living here in our 44 homes than in any strata development or even a large subdivision spanning square kilometers, the co-op community really becomes a micro society. A bite sized piece of what our larger masses are around us. young and old. People with grown kids and people with new borns. People living hand to mouth with little to spare and some with so much money they have summer homes and real estate.

As a board member and finance committee member I have discovered that we are the man. We are responsible for our community and outcome.