The All-Purpose Pretext

Since we moved here, I noticed that even though I had changed the billing address on my American credit cards, my statements for some of them were consistently too late to be able to pay them on time. I phoned customer service for one of them, MBNA, and after some discussions about possible ways of fixing this, they admitted that they couldn’t help me yet, but the representative encouraged me to check my balance online periodically and at some point in the future, to contact customer service again to see if they could get what I wanted. What I wanted was to get my statement via email (or at least, an email to be sent when the statement was readable), the way I get with my Investment accounts. Since this particular credit card was even connected to my Investment accounts (that’s where the bonuses for using the card go), it seemed possible that maybe they might do this in the near future.

That was 6 months ago or so. After getting my statement for this past month late once more, I decided to give MBNA a call. The service representative had a southern accent. That wasn’t all that surprising. What I wasn’t prepared for was a full dose of unabashed American propaganda:

Me: (after the usual account exchange of security and account number information) Hello, I’ve been continuing to get my statement too late to be able to pay it. I know that I’m in Canada, but is there any way that you could send the statements earlier or send an email notifying me of them?

Service Rep: Oh yeah, we’ve had a lot of trouble recently gettin’ statements to people OUTside the US because of the guv-ment. They now have to check all of these statements.

Me (gasping in astonishment): You’ve got to be kidding.

Service Rep: Oh no, not at all. This is necessary, after what those terrorists did down here. You watch the news, dontcha?
Me: Are you telling me that I have no choice, that this is the US government who are holding up your statements?

SR: I told you, to people in other countries, you’ll be gettin’ your statements late from now on. It’s a new procedure. If you want to talk your Senator about this, you can do that, but there’s nothin’ we can do.

Me: Can’t you just send the statements out a little earlier to make up for this?

SR: Sir, we send those statements as soon as we can already. The guv-ment just has to do this to keep us all safe. I’m sure you understand that.

Me: I can’t believe this. No one told me about this months ago. Is there someone else I can talk to about this?

SR: You’re talkin’ to me. Now I suggest you check your statement online, which you can easily do from www…

Me: (breaking in) I do that already, I really just want you to send me the statements earlier or send an email so I’ll know when to check…

SR: We won’t do that. That’s jus’ something we don’t do.

Me: OK, that’s it. I’ve had it. Please cancel the account.

SR: (almost relieved): I’ll be happy to do that, sir.

It didn’t go much longer beyond that. I think at some point I almost heard her mutter something about for’inners.

At any rate, I believe I’ve learned something. The behavior of the Bush Administration is now being imitated everywhere, even by the Private Sector: When you find yourself at odds with your customer/citizenry, blame the idea of Terrorism. The Bush government has literally gotten away with murder and mayhem by using the umbrella explanation of “9/11 Changed Everything”. The rights of Prisoners of War, the right to a Free Press, the privacy of phone conversations, medical records or financial transactions; everything is up for grabs under the “We have to fight the Terrorists.” excuse. I didn’t think I’d be hearing that particular spiel recited to me from a credit card company like MBNA, but I guess this is a game that anyone can play. So, if you get lousy service or a shoddy product from some American company, don’t be surprised if they pull out the ultimate ‘Get out of Jail Free Card’ that has the number 9 and 11 on it.

Berry Picking on Westham Island

We went to the Emma Lea (I assume it’s pronounced like ‘Emily’) U-Pick farm in Westham Island, which is really part of Delta, a very rural suburb of Vancouver (these days those kinds of areas are called ex-urbs, which is to designate a suburb that is so far away that its no longer as tied to the city that it is supposed to be the ‘bedroom community’ of.

After picking up Oana’s friend Christine in New West Minster, we drove down past several farms, over a 1-car-at-a-time bridge, and turned right into a farm stand and U-Pick. Although strawberries are pretty much over,( I did manage to simply buy a bunch at the end) the berries that were ready this weekend were all exotically named cousins of the blackberry (and perhaps raspberry) family: Tayberries, Merrion Berries (no, that is not a joke) and Boysenberries. I had never heard of the first two varieties. As for the third one, I believe that the only Boysenberry anything I’ve ever had was the syrup at IHOP, which was just another sugary-sweet blueish coloured and sticky liquid.

The Tayberry, according to Wikipedia is a cross between a Loganberry and a raspberry. It is a long-ish berry, bigger and more cone shaped than a raspberry, and the ripest ones were said to be dark purple. It tasted a bit sour, but milder than a blackberry. As for the Merrion Berry, (not only is it similar in name to the Coke-snorting mayor of Washington DC, but according to Google it’s also the name of an Adult Film Star who’s credits include “The Oral Adventures of Craven Moorehead”). Other than that, as Jon Stewart says, ‘I got nothing.”

We got back at about 3:30, and had some late lunch (we were starving). Tonight I’ll try making a dessert with some of the berries, without being too fussy as to which is which. I’m thinking of using my Blueberry Buckler recipe, as this particular fruit dish reminds me of summers at the Walden School in Vermont/New Hampshire, where I’ve always assumed this dish hails from.

A Very Big Beach

We got an invitation to join some friends of ours for a picnic on the beach last weekend. Actually, the invitation said “Jericho Beach/Spanish Banks”.

If you park in Spanish Banks, Jericho Beach can be a long way off. In fact, we parked (got a ride there with Matt and Oana, who we had invited to join us) and started walking, calling periodically by cell phone to try and locate our other friends. “We’re near…let’s see…a red and white Canadian Flag Umbrella”, they said. (Matt and I agreed that she might as well have said “We’re near a blade of grass”) About an hour later, we reached the right picnic blanket, which was indeed at the edge of the Spanish Banks. I guess I’ve learned that if you take a short bus ride or drive to Jericho Beach (which is just a little beyond Kitsilano Beach), you can walk along beach-front for what appears to be a couple of miles. It never seems to end! I got a little sunburned, but not too badly.

For the picnic, I brought paté and cheese I had picked up at Granville Island, as well as fruit, some bread and crackers. Pam brought olives as well as some stuffed grape leaves. Matt and Oana stopped at Meinhardt’s (a very nice high-end food store not too far from us) and brought other good food. I guess the only thing we were missing was Champagne (actually, in this heat, alcohol would have dehydrated us, not to mention carrying the bottles and keeping them cold!) Later we played Bocci ball, and Pam and I briefly dipped our toes in the Pacific (which was still pretty chilly). The beach was crowded, but as someone commented, everybody in these multitudes ‘got along’; No one tried to sell us anything or bother us, few people smoked, and there seemed to be enough room for the thousands there on a warm and sunny summer afternoon of a holiday weekend. I think we’ll make another visit to the beach some time before the season is over, but I have to admit, I feel like I’ve seen more sand and surf here then anywhere else I’ve lived.

Tomorrow we’re going on another summer outing. This time it will be some berry-picking to the south of us (not that far south, because we’ll be staying on the Canadian side of the border) in Steveston.

Happy Canada Day!

I think that a national holiday is a good enough excuse for me to get back into the blogging habit.

We had a great holiday today, even if we did start a little late (got up a little after 9AM after playing the board game ‘Ticket to Ride’ with Matt, Oana, and their friend Ryan last night until very late). We did a little tidying up of the back patio and moved a few small blocks of concrete that had been sitting there for a year, and then we went out to Stanley Park. At the Boat House, we caught the free shuttle, which just started up a couple of days ago. It took us all around the perimeter of the park (this takes about 30 minutes or so). It really gives you an idea of how huge Stanley Park is. Afterward, we walked over to a park bench by the edge of the Lost Lagoon, and caught a few rays of afternoon sunshine while watching the sun-dappled water, the ducks, and the fountain, while listening to our iPods and generally just relaxing.

On the way home on the bus, we heard the best ‘Overheard in Vancouver‘ -style exchange:

He: So have you heard of this Canabis Day Celebration?

She: What are you talking about? I’ve never heard of it.

He: Just another chance for them to smoke it, I guess.

While this sounded like suspiciously like a snarky malaprop, sure enough, there indeed was a huge congregation of teens and slightly older people all celebrating some kind of Cana - day by the Art Museum (the standard place for all events that take place in the city), and this one did seem to involve smoking, although I must admit that I really didn’t smell anything, and that’s saying something.

Later we came home, where Pam went down to Granville Island to pick up some fruit and veggies, and I went up the street to get some beer. We munched on pizza and beer while watching the Corner Gas marathon on the Comedy Channel.

Outside we can hear the music from the park, and soon, the fireworks will start.

In just two weeks, we’ll have been living here exactly a year, and we feel more settled than ever. This three-day weekend holiday has come at just the right time for us to sit back and enjoy our new home more than ever before. I’m starting for feel a lot more Canadian these days. It’s not a bad feeling, eh?