Come with rain. O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate’er you do tonight,
bath my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit’s crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o’er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.

– Robert Frost –

Thank you to the Vancouver Canucks for a great season, and the fun of the playoffs.  We didn’t get as far as anyone in Vancouver had hoped… but as always, we believe, and we look forward to next year.  We are ALL Canucks.

My first Hockey Jersey

There was a Hockey Game, and after the Hockey Game, as some of us feared, a few idiots found a way to make sure the spotlight shone on them… for all the wrong reasons.

I’m a Twitter Geek, and the first tweet that made me realize the seriousness of the situation was one from George Moen, who runs Blenz Coffee, who said that three of their locations had been trashed, and they were working to find out if their people were accounted for and unharmed.

I sent him a tweet, with my hopes that his people were okay, and asking if he needed a hand on Thursday or heard of anyone needing help, to please let the twitter community know.

Mere moments after that, it became aware to me that a LOT of people were going to need help… so I grabbed my shoulder bag, and started scouring the house looking for garbage bags, work gloves and other stuff I thought I might need.

By the time I got back to my computer, I heard that someone had started the twitter account @VancouverClean, and I was able to share this project, to try to raise awareness.

And countless others were doing the same.

At 1 am, I decided to call it a night.  I had a fitful night… never sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time… sad at Vancouver apparently becoming a “thug” town.

The next morning I got up at 5:30, prepared to join my wife on her daily journey from Pitt Meadows into town, uncertain what I would encounter there.

People on the West Coast Express all looked at me, as I got on in my Canucks jersey… I think a few may have thought I was mistakenly going to the game on the wrong day… but nobody said anything… just gave me furtive, grimacing looks.

On the way in, I sent an e-mail to my mid-morning appointment, apologizing for cancelling, and explaining my reason.

When I got downtown, I looked at Twitter, and the Vancouver Police Department had given @VancouverClean the go ahead to help the City crews that had been working all night.  (It was feared that there might be a delay, as much of the downtown core was a crime scene, but by 7:30, all investigation was complete.)

The morning started slowly.

Sterling Shoes - Canucks Riot - This Is My City - BobBlahBlah.comI started at Howe and Dunsmuir, worked my way East to Seymour, and up Seymour to Georgia.  There I met up with a few guys with brooms, and we traversed further along to Nelson, where they headed towards Cambie, and I continued towards Beach.  It was just after 8 am, and the few pedestrians that were out were giving me looks, as if to say… “You got caught, and are doing community service already?” So I started engaging them in conversation, as they passed me… smiling and saying “Good morning!”

About an hour, and an industrial garbage bag later, I ran into another volunteer, Sasha, who had also come downtown to help out.  We worked our way back through Yaletown, towards the downtown core, picking up everything…  Pizza boxes, bloody gauze bandages, blue EMT gloves, transit passes, and LOTS of cigarette butts.  Broken beer bottles.  Smashed plastic cups.  Lots of torn up plants.  Several different shoes… (each a single), and slippers (a pair).  Lots of half eaten food.  A lot of bags filled with sloshy liquids, that I didn’t want to investigate or guess the contents.

Swimwear Etc - Canucks Riot - This Is My City - BobBlahBlah.comAs it got later in the morning, the people on the street were more aware of the hundreds of volunteers, and many pedestrians were thanking us as they passed us by.

Several times we were approached by folks, who came by with backpacks filled with cold drinks for the workers.

After the ugliness of the previous evening, it was a beautiful, glorious, cleansing day.  The sunshine also helped to chase away the darkness of the previous night’s events.

Some people (mostly older) stopped us and asked us if we worked for the city, and were astonished when we said no… we were just pitching in, with a lot of other people, after the previous night’s chaos.  All then were quick to offer thanks and express appreciation.

Swimwear Etc - Canucks Riot - This Is My City - BobBlahBlah.comThe ONLY dissonant note we came across, was a tall, well dressed man, who walked by, and then walked over to talk to us… “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” “HOW CAN YOU EVEN SHOW YOUR FACES TODAY?” Well, sir, the REAL fans are NOT the ones who did this… the damage was done by drunken idiots, taking advantage of being anonymous in the crowd.” “ALL CANUCKS FANS ARE GOONS” “No, sir… we’re not. What you saw was sadly a very visible few” And then, the obvious flailing started… “YOU AREN’T GOING TO CHANGE ANYTHING.” “We’ll make the downtown area cleaner, again” And the final non-sequitor arguments… “YOU STRAIGHT GUYS CAN’T ROCK A JERSEY, ANYWAY!!!” To which I was so non-plussed, I said nothing…  “YOU SHOULD TAKE THAT %$#@ING JERSEY OFF… IT’S UGLY” “Sir, you need to go about your business, and try to have a good day.” He kept shouting, as he went away… and while initially angered, it became apparent to me that he was just traumatized, and saddened… and my Canucks jersey had become a symbol to him of the harsh ugliness of the night before.

 

But the Canucks and their true fans had no part in the chaos.  There were a few doppelgangers, who disguised themselves as Canuck fans, but were really there to wreak havoc, under the guise of a public gathering… thinking that in a large crowd, they could get away with something that they couldn’t otherwise.

Hudson's Bay - Canucks Riot - This Is My City - BobBlahBlah.comA lot of people are angry.  This gent had it triggered by the sight of me in my Canuck jersey.  Others have latched onto publicly berating (supposedly) identified vandals.  For myself, I felt it best to focus on the positive aspect of getting on with the cleanup, and leaving the identification and prosecution of those responsible to those who have it in their job description.  If I’m in a self appointed position, the job of sheriff wasn’t available… so I took the job of street cleaner.

As we worked through the streets of Gastown, up and along East Hastings, and back towards Robson Square, people from all walks of life and all levels of society were gracious and grateful for the efforts of the whole @VancouverClean team.

As we journeyed, along, crossing paths with other members of the clean up crew, we too would shout encouragements and whoop “Thank you’s!!!”

It was hours of very hard work… crawling on hands and knees, picking up shards of glass and cleaning the aftermath of a large unruly crowd. But it was also a GREAT day, right up there with my opportunity to run the Olympic Torch… because to me, there is a great satisfaction in working to right a wrong, and fix something that needs fixing… and this was a City working together to Exorcise a Demon.

And we took our city back from the Demon.

This is my city…

Our city…

And you will not take her over, again.

 

 

Yesterday, I observed what may have been the quintessential event, which has made my Olympic experience complete.  It had nothing to do with sports.  I was not running a Torch.  I didn’t meet any Gold Medal Winning athlete.  I wasn’t involved, at all.

It was a purely moment of sheer joy, and kindness, that might have happened in a lot of places… But it happened in Canada. I was Downtown, trying to absorb as much Olympic Spirit as I can, walking the streets, drinking in the odd melange of hustle and bustle, and awe-struck wonder… As our City gets about the business of hosting an Olympic Winter Games, and the rest of us stand and gawk — ooh and aah at the displays and venues that have sprung up to revitalize and focus our City.

There have been, as there always are, problems and glitches at these Games, and some have gained some profile. From the lack of affordable housing for residents of the Downtown East Side, to the much-maligned, malfunctioning Zamboni, these issues have been covered and drawn attention to, by folks who are better informed, and better writers than I.  On this day, I wanted to see, with my own eyes, the Olympic Cauldron, and see for myself, the offensive fence, with its off-putting mesh, and see for myself, what the reality of the situation was, without spin or agenda.

From what I had been told, the Cauldron is a LONG ways away. Because of the adjacent International Broadcast Centre, there is an understandable concern for security… But at the same time, the Olympic Flame being visible only through the two inch gaps in a chain link fence, makes it tangible evidence, in a thousand photographs of parents trying to juggle kids in front of a fence, with some glimpse of flame in the distance, that these Olympics are VERY security conscious.

A not very family-friendly photo-opportunity, for a city that is supposed to be friendly, and welcoming.

I went down there, just after lunch-time, and saw that the fence was pretty far away from the Cauldron, and that families were, in fact, having difficulty getting a photo in front of the small gate of open fence that afforded the view. ***

I penguin shuffled, in turn, to the front… stuck my camera lens through the fence, zoomed in, as much as I could, and clicked away. As I walked away, my eye was caught by a different line, off to one side. A young man, standing about four feet off the ground, holding onto a metal stand with one hand, with one foot on a concrete post, and the other foot dangling in mid air. He was, in turn, reaching down, and taking the cameras that people were handing up to him.  He would take photos for them, over the top of the eight foot fence, and hand the camera back, before taking the photos for the next person.

He did this for several different “groups” of tourists… and then jumped down, and, without another word to any of them, went on his way.

I think in the past while, all of us Vancouverites have tried to make an effort to help folks.

Whether with directions, taking a photo, or offering tourist suggestions… we are, by and large, I believe, trying to be a good Host City.

The guy climbing the fence, was, literally AND figuratively, head and shoulders above the crowd… and he disappeared before I could get a name or a picture…  but I know the folks who you helped will be telling their friends back home… and I’m telling my readers…

You might be the most Canadian of us all !

Cheers !!!

*** Since I was there on Tuesday, VanOC has apparently made some changes, and is reportedly working on more.  Regardless, the fence-guy rocks !!!