What a day for a parade!

The W.C. Miller Collegiate tradition of a Grad parade was well upheld by this year's class. Tomorrow we'll send the young'uns on their merry way at the 2010 Commencement at 2 PM.

 Jordan, Joey, Derek

 

Sara, Andrea, etc on Safari

 

Sara

 

Eric

 

Adam (& Benita)

 

Mandy & Jenny

 

Lauryssa, Brittany, Yvonne

 

Mica, Kallie, Jenn, Riley

 

the plumber

Also went for a longer ride with Genevieve and Justin tonight: 52 ks on what we call the "Letellier Loop".

And here's a great video of the three tallest buildings in Chicago getting struck by lightning, simultaneously (relatively speaking, for humans, I assume - if you're an ion, there was probably a year or two of ion time in between each strike.).

Ride in         Temp 10'C Wind N 20 ks
Ride home   Temp 20'C Wind NW 15 ks

Various festivities

Today was a day for goodbyes and beginnings. At AMC we said goodbye to Gord & Pam and the kids after 12 good years. At Neubergthal we opened a Mennonite handmade heritage furniture show, entitled Himmelbleiw ("heavenly blue") in the Friesen Housebarn. At this well-attended event (around 150) some knowledgeable people (Ron & Sandi Meilitz)  spoke, a few of us brommelled and sang the Brommtopp Leid, and Paul Bergman sang. Then we toured the exhibit, bought the catalogue (which I designed), and went over to the Community Centre for faspa. There's nothing like Sunday faspa!

The catalogue cover

After said activities, we sat together on the back balcony with good friends Nathan and Toni and caught up. Then we bugged Bekah for fries and ice cream (Some people never grow up; Mennonites can't dance, because they think sex is icky; Toni has a theory for everything; Nathan can never decide; Margruite can learn, but she can't teach; Paul has theories too, but he's mostly wrong). And thus ends a good weekend.


June 26, 2010

After a morning of learning to brommel, and the looming threat of rain, I decided a bike ride was in order. By 12:10 I was in the saddle heading East into a 20 k SSE wind. My intention was to head to Emerson, tool around town and return from whence I came - about a 50 k ride. But when I got to Emerson, well, I just felt good. So I followed Prov Road 218, which curves around past the golf course, and then followed PR 200 through a pleasant variant of the prairie farmland form (whatever that means - probably simply that a change is as good as a rest), and up toward Dominion City. Once I was headed North, with wind, it was easier to keep on keeping on, then to turn around and return, so that is what happened. By the time I'd passed through D.C. and was just outside of Ginew (60ish ks), I knew that I should have a) brought some food along, or b) brought some cash to buy food. Once I got to Letellier, I knew I should have brought food, because I was heading into a wind that was fully from the South, and had increased a bit. Well you know how it is, you put your head down, pick your ass up, and pedal harder. When I got home (2 hrs & 40 mins) I'd managed to average 30 k/h for the 80 ks of the ride and, although I was unnecessarily bagged because of my lack of food, felt really good about this route. I'll do it again.

RJ's Birthday
After some food and recovery Margruite and I headed off for RJ's 65th birthday party. A great time of music and food for a great man! Joe, you are my light of darkness!  

The Road

We watched The Road tonight. I read the novel three years ago. I read it fast. As some have said, it's more of a prose poem than a novel, and it reads fast. Reading the novel I don't recall wondering about plot. The premise offered by the title is well-fulfilled, and the interplay between the characters provides plenty of tension and motivation. The boy wants to live, to be the good guy, and to be with his Dad. The man wants to preserve, to save, his son. These primal instincts couple with the bleak setting to take me, paradoxically, into that safe place where we guard ourselves from the troubles of the outside world. The time in the survivalist shelter evokes this most clearly.

The movie bombards me with visual information that, essentially, distracts me from the primal nature of the relationship at the core of the story. In a visual medium, this setting takes over. The flashback scenes with the woman which, about half of the time recall the better days, also carry the effect of calling attention to the way things look. But this is a story about the way things are, or aren't, at the heart of human beings. It's about whether or not you carry the fire. It's about whether you want to be the good guys. The novel never strays from this path. The movie however, forces you to watch forest fires, falling trees, and the concrete and steel hulks of buildings and cars. The novel offers you the words of the man and the boy as they sort things out. The movie offers you pictures of the boy and the man watching what you are watching. The Road is no 2012. But the apocalyptic scenery, though unsensationalized, can't help but have a sensational effect. The dialogue is necessarily reduced, and thus we follow the decline of Western infrastructure more than we plumb the depths of the relationships that sustain us. (The brightest spot of dialogue in the movie is when the Robert Duvall character (a 90 year old man) exemplifies the moral complexity the novel presents.)

I love the tableau of the jack-knifed semi on the overpass. It expresses to perfection the precarious, and surreal, state of our systems, even when they work. Who hasn't imagined scenes like this one. To see it set up as real as this, affirms my schadenfreude-esque sense that these things will fail, and they will fail on a grand scale. But again, this is not what the novel is about. The novel is more Odyssey than Inconvenient Truth, more about clinging to something meaningful, against the odds, than a dark harbinger of civilization's decline. The movie can't help but beat us over the head with this warning. Whereas the novel asks me to consider the complexity of what it means to be a father and to be a son, the movie tells me that if we aren't the good guys together, we're the bad guys. Not that that's bad, it's just different - different enough to change the story.

Ride in         Temp 16'C Wind W 10 ks

Ride home   Temp 25'C Wind SE 15 ks

After midnight rides and writings

Okay. So it's 1:34 AM and I just rode home from town after an awesome ABES night farewell for Lorne. And the story could continue. Discussions of Yoga, Education, the Alexander method, $50 bikes, and helping two elderly guys from Winkler trying to find some 77 year old friend who was headed for Gretna but somehow got himself out to the Shell station on the corner of the 201 and the 59. Really?! Can all this happen on one night? And on the ride home my backlight keeps cutting out on me (whenever I go over a bump) and there's lightning off to the South and East as I ride, floating along, suspended between goodnight and good morning. What a merry thing it all is. All of it!

Friends. I hope you find one another. I hope that if you're lost and miles off track that two guys from far away in their blue Montana mini-van will make the effort to find you. They'll drive and drive, and end up asking for help at a small town bar and meet a guy who's about to ride his bike home at 1 AM, and he'll head back into the bar for the phone book, and you know what? His good friend (the best no doubt), who has just explained his morning Yogic, Muslim, Alexander method morning ritual down on the darkly triangled barroom indoor outdoor rubber backed carpet, will come along to help clarify things. And together they will send along the two weary searching friends to do what we all must do. Find one another. Help out. Be together.

Please make the effort. Find each other. Please. I hope.

What it is.

Ride in         Temp 17'C Wind SW 15 ks
Ride home   Temp 24'C Wind E 10 ks

Earthquake? Moose Factory?

There's been an earthquake in southern Ontario, and for some reason Moose Factory and Moosonee have come up in the talk. I don't know why because. But this brings back memories, and here they are:


Through marriage (my oldest sister's) I'm "related" to Jonathan Cheechoo (NHL hockey player). My brother-in-law Roy (same last name) is his uncle (something like that). I've been to Moosonee and Moose Factory twice on family visits (they've since moved to North Bay). We'd park the car at Cochrane and ride the Polar Bear Express (train) up to Moosonee. It was a different world for a painfully white Mennonite family. We'd go to "Chilly Willy's" for ice cream, sing hymns in the full gospel church, and have boat rides in these crazy long and wide cedar canvas square back canoes powered by Johnson outboard motors (Some guys would put two 20 hp engines side by side to get more zip - it was a pretty big summer tourist industry, boating people across the Moose River from Moosonee to Moose Factory and back again.). My brother-in-law took us up the river to the mouth of James Bay in his blue canoe with the new 20 hp Johnson. My mom hung on - white-knuckled. We picnicked on the rocks up there. Roy told us stories of the Spring Goose hunt, and about bears. Mom was happy to get back into the boat and head back. Good times. 

I bought the coolest leather headband with the letters M-O-O-S-O-N-E-E on it. You'd have to walk around me to read it. I thought it was so cool. It'd probably be a little inappropriate to wear it today, but for a white kid in the 70s a headband made by an Indian in Northern Canada ... whoa! I'm going to go hunt for it right now I think. That and those crazy pictures of me and my 'fro. (No pictures of this exist. I'm sure of it ... where's my lighter?)


Ride in         Temp 17'C Wind SW 15 ks
Ride home    Temp 23'C Wind NW 20 ks 

Dancing ghosts?

Apparently I'm in this picture.

The back of me I think. Dancing with Margruite. Yes. I was dancing with Margruite. It was a waltz. Ridiculous really. To choose to dance a waltz, when you've hardly danced together at all. Embarrassing on so many levels. Well, to be fair, three: One, we can't dance, each of us. Two, we don't dance well together (at least not in public ... like this). Three, a waltz deserves more than a junior high slow dance full body press. Ah well. If I didn't tell you I was in the picture, you wouldn't believe it. You probably won't believe me anyway. Why should you? I've given you no good reason.

Ride in         Temp 17'C Wind SSE 10 ks
Ride home   Temp 25'C Wind SW 20 ks

Ditch Digging II

On this, the first day of summer, we had rain. Lots of rain. More than an inch of rain today, and they're forecasting for more tomorrow. So I got out there to dig a ditch on the other (the South) side of the yard. The water has always pooled in the lowspot just South of the barn (the ark is more like it) (see figures 1 & 2), so to help that water get away, I dug a hole for my trusty (going on 17 years old) Simer sump pump to sit in and do its rock and roll duty (see figure 3) and move water from the lowspot, over to the drain (see figure 4). Then I got busy digging. I prepared the way for the water to flow more easily from the drain into the ditch (see figures 5 & 6).

Figure 1

Figure 2

Figure 3

Figure 4

Figure 5

Figure 6

It's going to be a few days before we sit around the fire and roast weinies! Indeed!

Ride in         Temp 13'C Wind SSE 15 ks
                   (I just beat the rain!)
Ride home   Temp 19'C Wind NNE 15 ks

Today we woke up bleary and stiff, brewed some coffee, and headed off to Winnipeg to meet Genevieve and Justin at The Blacksheep Diner for Sunday brunch. Very tasty. Then we headed off to Justin's place, chatted awhile, observed the broken mandolin (oh well), and headed out for a walk to see the new Old Market Square stage: The Cube.

(It's pretty cool and designed to be versatile. Some don't like it. Some do. I do. But somebody's going to hurt themselves on it, sue the city, and trouble will ensue.)

Then we walked back, and kept on talking. A good time it was.

When we got home I decided I needed to ride. I did. 56 ks round trip. The Rosetown loop they call it. Average speed: 31 kph. The wind was W, shifting to S, at about 12 ks.

Saturday, 19 June 2010
Saturday night was a late one. Perhaps I should blog early on these days. Hard to do that though, when you know that the good times are coming. But it's hard to put the good times into words. It's a lose lose. Clearly. So here are a few pics from the big event at the barn last night: Congrats to Jared and Cassy!

The barn in splendour.

The chickens.

The guests arriving (a sampling).

Sangria, a mosquito, and me.

The promise of good food and drink.

The less formal ones retire to the fire.

First dance.

Several dances later.

The band.

JT. Of course.

A few days on, a few days off

Just practicing my karate kid moves. I can't believe they've remade that movie. Why? No really. Why?

Rides report:

Wed (June 16)
Ride in          Temp 12'C Wind Calm
Ride home    Temp 24'C Wind SW 20 ks

Thurs (June 17)
Ride in         Temp 11'C Wind SE 20 ks
Ride home         Temp 19'C Wind ESE 40+ ks

Fri
Drove the truck (to pick up gear for the J and C's wedding on Saturday).

You're not there (fiction)

There's this kid that pops into and out of his life. And every time the kid shows up he feels the guilt. Feels it because he knows he could do more. Should do more. Should be really sad that the kid's grad social's been cancelled because the kid's aunty spent the money they were saving up for it on something else. But he knows that he really won't make the effort. Even when the kid tells him about the party that'll be at the grandpa's instead. Even when the kid says it'll be a safe party. Even when the kid says that they're hiring people to make sure of it.
    He knows he doesn't have the love. Not the real love. The deep love. This is the "not unless the kid's right there in front of him standing, talking, sweating, trying to explain what's happened, why he'd still like to see him come out to his grandpa's, but probably understands if he doesn't" kind of love. That kind. A cheap convenience-store love. That right time and right place kind of love. The kind of love that does not pass all understanding. The kind of love that is totally justifiable. That love that says, in far too many words: I know this all sucks, eh, so there's not much I can do to make it better, so I'm not going to do much of anything at all. That kind of of love.
   That's the love he's got right now, and he's pretty sure that that's the love that he'll have on the Friday night of the kid's party. The kind of love that'll come to him in fleeting moment as he sits around the table with friends, or out on the yard in the whispering wind, or in the buzz of a mosquito. You're not there, it'll say. You're not there because you've chosen to do something else, and you shouldn't feel bad about that. You shouldn't feel bad at all.
   But he will.

Ride in       Temp 13'C Wind calm
Ride home Temp 24'C Wind E 10 ks

Steam-tech?

I think this might be the best peripheral for that new ithingy some people seem to think will change our lives. Whatever happened to that old saw "Pride goeth before the fall"? I guess we're reconsidering everything these days.

What would Dante do? (WWDD - Doesn't this acronymic reminder have a much better visual and aural sense than that other, Sheldonesque, acronymic reminder to think at least twice before you do whatever it is you're about to do?)

And I just can't help liking this.

Ride in        Temp 13'C Wind 5 ks NW
Ride home  Temp 25'C Wind 20 ks E (here comes the rain again ...)

Two days

June 13, 2010
This day consisted of
1. the completion of the clicky-clicky project (here's a pic of one of the pieces in this project ... more shall be revealed at a later time)

2. a stellar performance by yourstruly at the Cenotaph service in town,

3. the preparations for a wedding (to be held at our home a week from now),

4. a nice little square bike ride: 32 ks at 32 kph. The ride was East West. The wind was North, 25 ks or so.


A big thanks to the Falk family for making the wedding prep so enjoyable! Talk about leaving a place looking better than when you arrived! Very nice! Very nice indeed!

June 12, 2010

This day of sitting at the computer and fighting with InDesign and PhotoShop was brought to you by the number

 3313

a rough estimate of the number of clicks

many in anger and frustration

that I pounded my mouse with

oh my baby clicky, my virtual punching bag

(we do everything so meekly these days, don't you think?),

and

the letter

M

You know where this is going. 

So I'll stop right there

before I go any further ...

I'm gonna sleep on it.

Thank you thank you thank you to RJ and L for a great night of Caesars, J&B, FG Dark, and RnR! The talk is never dull, and always cheap, just the way I like it.

The dealio

After a hard day of marking provincial exams, what could be a better eugoogaly for the day than to sit down to watch Zoolander? This is a rhetorical question. If you've seen Zoolander, you'll just nod and wonder how I can be expected to teach children to learn how to read if they can't even fit inside the building? Or you'll just want to tell me what a bad eugoogoolizer I am. Whatever?! You can save what you want for me, I'm not taking any of it. I am sphereically this close to being able to derelicte those babies off for another year! Yeah man! That's the dealio! That's the freak fest around here, yo.


Ride in       Temp 10'C Wind NE 10 ks
Ride home Temp 13'C Wind E 15 ks

Details details

The devil. You know who you are. Who needs ya, anyway? Well occasionally you show up all red and sporting that huge trident and a throbbing spikey tail and, well, you know. You get the picture. The next day you show up as a mild-mannered, white-haired man with adjustments on the brain. It's harder to see you coming then, but you get me with the little things. That's how stuff sneaks by. So hats off to you Mr. Wolf-in-sheep's-clothing, Mr. SSSSSSilver-tongued tempter, Mr. Crossroads. Some days you manage to get what you want, and I don't even know I'm signing the cheque.

Ride in        Temp 9'C Wind NW 10 ks
Ride home  Temp 15'C Wind ESE 15 ks

Technologicalities

Okay, so I am, right this very minute, trying (well the ol' lenovo notebook's a'chuggin along) to render a file into an mpeg, using Premiere Pro, so that I can upload it, to YouTube I suppose. This is all so complicated. There must be easier ways to do it. Anyway, once I've got the file rendered, I'll learn how to upload it to YouTube, which will probably mean another unsavoury technologicality - creating an account, or channel! I'll have to add yet another piece of myself to the web. Sigh. Why do these things bother me? Why just the other day I had to create a yahoo account in order to view something they offered. I think I've already forgotten my email address and password. How much of this me-ness is floating about out there? There are so many bits of you and me out there ... well I just don't know. Whatever the case, I'm off the see if I've successfully made an mpeg, and then to see how much of a hassle it is to make a YouTube account, and then to upload, hopefully, the mpeg, so that I can link it to here. As Bugs says, "What a maroon!"

Ride in         Temp 9'C Wind 40+ks NW (whew!)
Ride home   Temp 15'C Wind 20 ks NW (ahhhh!)

Postscript: Fail. No audio.

Sometimes in 30 minutes ...

... you can do more and do better than you did over a few months. Today I witnessed such a phenomenon. Renae and Andrea wanted more to do. To be accurate, they had more to do, but they wanted something different to do. They wondered about it. Maybe they could do something else, they asked. Maybe they could do more improv on Hamlet. Well, they had me because the improv work they'd done on Hamlet before was pretty fine. So I said yes. Then they needed a suggestion. Or rather, they wondered if I had one. I looked at them. I thought of Ophelia. I thought of Juliet. I wondered about Lady Macbeth. I suggested that they develop a short scene in which Ophelia meets one of these two Shakespearian women. They looked at each other. Smiled. Said that this idea sounded pretty decent, and headed out into the hallway to prepare. In about 30 minutes they came back into class and said they were ready. Ready? I said. Now? Yup, they said. So, All right, I said. But I said we'd need to record it in some way. For posterity. Well Renae had a camera with a video feature, and enough room on the memory card. So I took the camera and sat and recorded their three minute piece. A conversation between Ophelia and Juliet. If the video turned out, perhaps I'll post it here tomorrow (with their permission). If not, suffice it to say, that between Andrea and Renae, and Tobin's dramatic and flawless "Tis now the very witching hour ..." rendition, it was a class for the ages! Well, at least for the semester!

Ride in        Temp 12'C Wind SW 5 ks
Ride home  Temp 19'C Wind SSE 13 ks

Tryin' the other side of the boat

This will be necessarily brief (time keeps on tickin' tickin' tickin' into the future ...). The weekend unfolded as follows:
Saturday
- Leave COOP parking lot at 7 AM.
- Travel (thank the Lord for GPS, 'cause  I think everyone in the truck forgot how to read a map!) to Caribou Falls Lodge via Rosenfeld, Morris, St Pierre, Mitchell, Steinbach, St. Anne, Hadashville, Falcon Lake, West Hawk, Minaki (well, we drove past the turnoff). 4 hours.
- Unload and settle into the cabins.

- Get the gear out and ready in the boats while we wait for lunch.
- Eat a fish fry lunch in the Lodge.

- Get into the boats and fish (I catch 8: 2 jacks, 5 Walleyes,  1 Whitefish). I get the hang of feeling the bottom and jigging.

- Head back to the lodge for supper (coleslaw, pork ribs, wild rice, cauliflower with cheese).
- 6 guys head out to fish for another 2 hours; 3 guys (including me) hang around and chat.
- Poker (Kevin wins, Curwin second, Rick third).
- Sleep ... sort of.

Sunday
- Up at 6:30 AM for coffee.
- Breakfast at 7 AM - a full bacon and eggs and hash browns and Red River cereal and toast affair.
- Fish from 8 to 12 (I catch 11: 5 jacks, 6 Walleyes) - we each keep to Walleyes for the shore lunch.

- Shore lunch. WOW! Beer battered fish, beans, cubed potatoes, corn, beer. CaRbOhYdRaTeS! (and a good thing too, what with all that wind and sun and sitting, while the guides did EVERYTHING! - Like I mean netting and unhooking the fish, rebaiting your hook, or retying your jig ... everything! Crazy!)

- Fish from 2 to 5:30 (I catch: 3 jacks, 4 Walleyes, for a grand total of 26 fish - probably the lowest catch of the weekend ... some guys caught 50 or more! The biggest jack - 31 inches (Jim); The biggest Walleye - 27 inches (Curwin)).
- Pack up.


- Supper at 6:30 PM - Salad (the first one of the weekend!), turkey, cranberry sauce (the birthday boy just loves the stuff), potatoes and gravy, stuffing, and New York cheese cake for dessert. Whew.
- Head out before 8 PM.
- 15 minutes out, come across a car in the ditch (you should have seen this ditch!). We stop. We advise. We push. We push some more. We get out the tow rope. The truck pulls. The car's out.
- We drive along with the car to the next community, to make sure they make it home.
- This adds close to an hour to the trip, but we are better people for it ... right!??
- Drive. Get home at just after 1 AM.
- Unload. Brush teeth.
- Pack for work in the morning.
- Sleeping by 2 ish.

Today
- Soccer practice at 7:15 AM.
- Still need to shave.
- Drink a fair amount of coffee.
- Feel the heat rising off of my sunburnt nose.
- Still manage to enjoy the day.
- Thanks kids. You are the best.

Ride in         Temp 11'C Wind S 5 ks
Ride home   Temp 22'C Wind SE 10 ks

Gone fishin ...

So today I'm packin' up some gear (thanks Tobin!) to get ready to go on a fishin' trip with some boys tomorrow and Sunday. Sounds like a dream. Sounds like good times. Sounds like what it sounds like. As a man who generally hasn't found fishin' to be the most heart-thumpin' adrenalin-pumpin' activity, this weekend will test my zen practice. Ommmm. I'm gettin' ready. Mentally I mean. If I can just manage the sound and smell of a powerboat, I think I'll be okay.

When we (the family) head out for the lake we pack our gear and food into backpacks (big ones) and we tie our canoes onto the roof of the vehicle. After we drive, we paddle the canoes, hoist and portage the packs, pitch and sleep in tents, and enjoy the fatigue that comes after some good hard physical work. It's great to take your mind off of the buzz and gadgets of life and focus on the work of travel using your own body and brain as the primary source of energy and direction for the journey. But this coming weekend I will try to engage the wilderness with more, shall we say, technologized propulsion and direction-finding. As I say, I'm workin' on my zen ... Ommmm.

Ride in        Temp 10'C Wind SE 10 ks
Ride home  Temp 21'C Wind WNW 25 ks

Ditch digging

Some days a job comes upon you like a thief in the night. Or, in this case, like trench mouth. The pools on our yard, from the abundance of water from the skies over these past weeks forced me out onto the land, or rather, the swamp, with my trusty spade (the little one that Paul and Karl mocked - works for me). So I dug, I trenched, I hacked tree roots, and removed sod. From about the chicken coop to the ditch in front of the yard I excavated, and finally the water flowed. Here are a few pictures of my plowing. (Is my team ploughing? No, it was just me. No team this time, Mr. Housman.)

Of course, it was raining while I was digging, and when I finished, the rain stopped. Classic. Like washing the car. It probably won't rain tonight now either. My little trench dance will have warded off the rain spirits. All you farmers with wet fields out there, you can thank me if it doesn't rain for the next few days. For that matter, you can blame me if it does. We all need scapegoats. I'll take my turn.

Ride in        Temp 10'C Wind NW 10ks
Ride home  Temp 20'C Wind SE 20ks

Paper hearts burn easy

This sentimentalish mocku-docu-mentary about love, or one woman's disbelief in it, has moments, but on balance just never gets going. Charlyne Yi, a young comedian, doesn't believe in love. She doesn't really go into why, except that it's never really worked for her. Her friend Jake proposes to document a series of interviews in which she searches for "love" as other people have experienced it. These interviews are quirky and at times more than just cute. If this would have continued to be the centre of the film, with some editing and focus, they might have had something (Just keep it under 90 minutes please!).

However, along the way Charlyne bumps into Michael Cera at, what appears to be, an "everyday" party in LA. Charlyne claims to not really like him that first time, but you and I know immediately that this is going to turn into something. Why else would Cera be listed on the bill? Well it's not a complete bait and switch, but it's a disingenuous premise nontheless. Once Cera's on-screen, we're really only interested in the scenes that he's in, which isn't nearly all of them. Overall there are some funny exchanges between him and Charlyne, but really it feels like a high end, self-indulgent, extended YouTube video.

If this is supposed to be some sort of postmodern piece that is semi-critical of modern romance, and/or ambiguous about the "set-up" of acting and filming, and/or the intrusion of the camera into everyday life, well some might be interested. Not me. Of course love at first sight is possible, but unlikely. Of course everything we watch on screen is a set-up - it's "theatre" (thhhhee-Ah-TAh). Of course you can't have an intimate relationship with the camera's rolling 24/7. What kind of naivete does it take to even consider this as possible? Every celebrity marriage fails. There are celebrities who have lasting marriages, but that's always when one of them isn't continually in the media eye. So Charlyne, if you'd really loved Michael, you'd have stopped shooting the film, and done what you needed to do. As it is, you tried for both - a good film and some lovin' - and got neither. Hopefully, while doing it, you learned that you can't multi-task and do both things very well. Especially falling in love and making a film.

Ride in            Temp 12'C Wind SW 15ks
Ride home      Temp 21'C Wind NNW 10ks