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.

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.

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.

I compose music when the mood strikes but I dislike the process of recording. Perfecting studio recordings is not my idea of fun. I think I’ll just start doing this, play it through once and let that be it. So this is as good as it’s going to get.

My music is relatively simple, melodic and easy to remember. I enjoy writing as if for television. This one in particular might work as a drama. If you want to use it or record it, please contact me.

This song is called Patricia.

Spring comes early with cherry blossoms blooming and a clear blue sky but winter is alive and well fresh snow on the mountains. I’m not complaining.

A video blog of me ranting on about spandex cycle wear.

I’m not sure why so many cyclist dress in spandex like they’re in some bike race when clearly they are just communting to work. Perhaps they are racers in their spare time and it’s habit to but on the full regalia.

Stripped down to its bare cold bones, the Olympics, simply put, is a world sized party. A party that no wedding planner or online event organizer could ever imagine putting together in their wildest wet business dreams. It’s a party that’s been planned again and again for a long long time. O.K., it’s history is fuzzy so blur your eyes. It’s still been going a long time. It’s only because of it’s ongoing history that it is possible at the scale it is today. It’s only because of its shear size that it is the way it is.

Who doesn’t like a party? If you left town then it must be you. You don’t like a party. Maybe you just don’t want the party in your house. Maybe you went to Mexico and delivered your tourist dollars there were they get distributed to the disenfranchised… oh wait.

Maybe you didn’t leave town. Maybe just sat there and complained about crowds of people who (how dare they) were enjoying themselves aimlessly walking around. Perhaps you might try aimlessly walking around sometime, it’s a lot of fun. How was your commute? did it affect you you you?

Fun was always having an event to watch and root for. Fun shows and events put on for free and popping up everywhere magically. Fun was learning more about my country. Fun was accidentally walking into a giant crowd of happy people – all the time. Fun was being a part of the elation that built in an ever increasing momentum – because I let it happen to me.

I think that’s the difference. I let it happen. If you’re pissed off you will remain so because you need to be right.

To be honest, I voted not to have the Olympics here. I could, (and still can) see all the issues it brings. I lost that vote. Are we better off? who cares? nothing can be done about that. I know that party will have a hang over. I know we need to clean up. I know.

Yea, it’s easy to critisize and point to everything wrong with the Olympics. I am surrounded by these people. It’s easy to say in loud online voices how you hate the people “invading”, hate the organizers, hate money being spent for anything other than healthcare, schools, the arts, and any other special cause that personally affects you. In reality, there never is enough money for those programs. There never will be – ever. Let’s talk about that some other time.

What’s hard for some is being happy because in their minds, happiness equals stupidity. Happiness has a bad reputation among pissed off people. Let’s talk about that next time.

I am so glad I experienced an Olympics in my town.