Smells Like Poo, It Must Be The PNE

Another year has passed and it is again time for the Pacific National Exhibition in Vancouver, the fair that we know as the PNE. Many of us Vancouverites have fond memories of the PNE, and can probably remember some of the changes that have happened over the years to our beloved fair. How many times did you get dragged through the prize homes by your parents? Or rode the Ferris wheel in Playland (does anyone remember the really big Ferris wheel with the buckets that sat four people?) If I go way back in my memory I can even remember when there was a gondola system that went from one end of the fairgrounds to the other. Boy that was so long ago.

After many years of pastry chef-ing and after an incident in a kitchen that involved a large Pyrex mixing glass being hurtled at my husband’s head, he decided to take a break from kitchens, and went into the other side of the business, into commercial food sales. Because of this change, he has been working for his employer in the agricultural section of the PNE this year for a display that they put on every year. He is there to answer questions and ensure the security of the display. Not a very intellectually stimulating job, but it’s a nice break from being on the road and a chance to meet some interesting people. I, being a good and loving wife, have joined him for most of his shifts so that he doesn’t lose his mind with boredom during the frequent lulls.

There are some very… weird, freaky, interesting people that both work at and frequent the PNE. I probably would never have noticed these individuals if I was just enjoying the fair, but standing in one area working it, the farthest reaches of humanity seem to walk on by.

There are the 4-Hers. Great kids most of them, but they all seem to spend an inordinate amount of time with their animals, and not quite enough time with other humans. I got into a twenty minute conversation with a fourteen year old guy about how his bunny had won best fur, and why it had won best fur, and what he fed it so that it’s fur was so great, and how soft the fur was …. This kid needs to meet some girls. Like now!

Then there was the kid that touched everything…four different times! He came by our display, touched absolutely everything in sight then disappeared. Two hours later, he was back and proceeded to touch everything again. Then he came back for round three a half hour later, and during round four brought his grandmother. The last two times he was there, the hubby spent most of the time grumbling under his breath “It hasn’t changed since the last time you poked it, what do you think happened in the last hour to change it?”

One of the generic personality archetypes that keep showing up is the “I’ve got a story to tell you Old Guy”. There have been a number of them in the past few days, all wearing very interesting shirts (the fishing lure themed shirt, the “My grandkids went to Vegas and all I got was this t-shirt” shirt). All of them seem to follow a story template that usually includes “back when I was a [kid, young man, goat] we used to go pick [mushrooms, turnips, our noses], but it was so hot and we had to walk up a [hill, mountain, a ladder]… (insert forty minutes of blathering here) … and so my Uncle Bob said to my Aunty Sadie, the darn kids at the corn, and we never went there again.” Huh? I know you’re lonely, but was there a point, or even a single theme to the last forty-five minutes?

By far though, my favourite (and the bane of the hubby’s existence) is the MAN WHO CAN NOT MODULATE THE VOLUME OF HIS VOICE. We think he works at the PNE, because he’s been there for the last three days. The first two days we got into the same conversation with him about the BC Lion’s having won their last game. Most of the conversation was about twenty decibels louder than a motorboat and seemed to be based around the following lines being repeated. “WE WON THE GAME. THEY TOOK DICKINSON OUT. DON’T KNOW WHY. BUT THEN THEY PUT HIM BACK IN. PUT HIM BACK IN. TOOK HIM OUT AND THEN PUT HIM BACK IN. THEY’RE OFF FOR TWO WEEKS. NO MORE GAMES FOR TWO WEEKS. THEY TOOK HIM OUT, BUT THEY PUT HIM BACK IN. PUT HIM BACK IN. BUT THEY TOOK HIM OUT. WE WON. THEY TOOK DICKINSON OUT.” Needless to say, when the hubby saw him coming, he actually ducked behind some boxes and hid until the guy was out of sight.

Aaah, only five more shifts at the crazy farm. What are your favourite memories of the PNE or your local fair?

Crazy but true

A friend of mine was unceremoniously dumped by his live-in boyfriend about four months ago. The reason being was that the boyfriend was constantly sure of the “fact” that my friend was cheating on him, which he wasn’t. Due to the fact that they were not financially ready to move into their own places, they decided to remain roommates until they could get their finances sorted out. The boyfriend however started to try and get back together with my friend, starting about six weeks ago and was relentlessly asking whether or not they could try again. As much as my friend at one time loved him, it was just too much risk, trouble and heartbreak and made what I consider the wise decision to move on and scheduled himself to move out in mid-September.

Trying to keep his life going, he got a great new job, starting hanging out with friends he hadn’t seen in a while and was generally keeping himself busy. On Tuesday, after a great lunch with one of our mutual friends, he came home to a note, keys and the wallet of his ex. The note was a suicide note detailing what he intended to do to himself (prescription drug overdose leading to drowning), instructions of what to do if his body was found and a long diatribe blaming my friend for all his woes. Checking the computer it seems that the note had been forwarded to at least a half dozen family and friends.

Needless to say, the police were called, friends were called and the search was on. Luckily there had been less than a twenty minute window between one leaving and the other arriving at home. The police found him five hours later in the girders of a local bridge about five minutes away from an overdose, handcuffed him and immediately took him to the hospital. When my friend got home, more emotionally wrecked than ever before in his life, he proceeded to go looking through his ex’s stuff to see if there was anything else he should give the doctors/police that would assist in their evaluation of him. That’s when he found the original note. This note outlined how sorry he was for having killed my friend before taking his own life. HE HAD INTENDED TO KILL HIM AND THEN HIMSELF!!! Needless to say the minute we got that call, arrangements started being made to move him out of their shared abode IMMEDIATELY. Oh and then he got the call from his ex, still in the hospital asking “So will you take me back?” What the….?????

While all of this is crazy, what seems even crazier is that the doctors have advised his friends and family that the doctors intend to release him after his medical condition stabilizes, whether he sees a psychiatrist or not. Umm okay I know that psychiatric care in BC is a bit of a joke these days (take a walk through the Downtown East Side of Vancouver), but come on. This guy should be under observation for at least a week or two. Here’s hoping this saga doesn’t repeat itself anytime soon and that he gets the help he really needs.

Aacck! Kerplooie

So it has been forever since I have been able to post, and as is this will be a short one. Lots to write, will probably be able to write a library, but as it stands both our home PC and my school laptop have gone Kerplooie (is that how you spell that?) I am making good friends with the computer repair guy, but it doesn't seem to move him faster in fixing them. So as soon as I have reasonable computer strength behind me, I will be back at it. In the meantime, my employers are not too supportive of me using their time to write blogs. You'd think that they were paying me or somthing?!? Yeesh.