I have a new electric toothbrush and it is considerably less exciting than the last one. When the batteries on the old one ran down, it had a flashing red light and would beep loudly like the kinds of explosives you see in the movies. I always assumed that if I didn’t put it back on the charger right away it would explode.
It’s these sorts of things that make a mundane activity like tooth brushing fun. Sadly, my new one is quiet and has a green flashing light. Somehow the green seems too friendly, safe.
These days my life is lacking in excitement. Yes, I am aware that that statement is born out of a sense of entitlement that comes from being privileged enough to have a life that has is lacking in serious hardships. But I can’t help noticing the contrast between my life today and my life in the recent past.
My job in the UK was hectic and stressful, but there was always something interesting to do or new people to meet. In London there is no shortge of things to do or see. No matter what you’re into, there are usually several great options for you every day, most of which won’t break the bank. Vancouver, by comparison, is sleepy. There are things happening here, but they’re often expensive, poorly advertised, or underground, and there are dark days from time to time where there isn’t really much on.
I don’t want this to be a critique of the organisers and creators of events and productions. I’m sure they work very hard. It’s difficult when space is at a premium, rent is expensive, funding is ephemeral, and your audience has very little disposeable income. That’s Vancouver.
And the further east you go the worse it gets. Out here in the ‘burbs we have some really excellent trails that are less crowded than the North Shore and a few regional theatres, which to their credit, try to present some good quality productions, but there’s not much else.
After I finished my job I spent some time travelling around Europe. I managed to prolong the sense of constant novelty for another few weeks. So the transition has been a bit jarring.
Luckily the cat has been trying to fill the void. Sometime after 9 o’clock the other night she managed to get out on the patio. The latch on the gate had apparently been opened (she’s too fat to fit through the bars) and she was nowhere to be found.
She is for all intents and purposes an indoor cat, and she’s easily spooked. Coyotes often patrol our street. There was reasonable cause for concern when no one could find her that night. I called her before I went to bed but she didn’t come and I was on edge all night. She didn’t show up in the morning either and I had a deadline I had to meet on some freelance work so I wasn’t able to go look for her. But in the afternoon I went for a walk and here’s what I found:
What you don’t see is that we spent about five minutes talking back and forth before I started filming. She was being so melodramatic that I finally decided to film her. Picking her up is pretty dangerous so we walked back to the house together. She had to stop every once in a while to talk all about all the indignities she’d suffered being out all night in the rain. I opened the front door to the house but it was the wrong door so she sat in front of the other one and whined at me.
Animals are so stupid sometimes.