I was waiting for the bus today when I noticed a lonnie and two quarters lying on the pavement.

I was going to pocket the change but then all of a sudden, I had second thoughts.

The way the coins were arranged and the fact that they amounted to exactly $2.50 made me suspect that their presence wasn't entirely by happenstance.

Someone had left them there on purpose.

All of a sudden, I looked up and saw a man walk by. His dishevelled hair, soiled clothing and a gait that is so common amongst the down-and-out made me want to rush up to him and press the coins into his hand.

But I didn't.

Instead, I silently watched him walk away until he was out of sight.

The bus came at its appointed time and I got on. 

As I watched the scenery go by, I silently hoped that the man would come across the coins and claim them for himself.

I wonder if I would have done the same had the money been the kind that folds...

...probably not.

Christmas Day 2011

In addition to being exposed to new opinions, events, products, techniques, people, places, various artistic expressions and the best and worst of the human race, YouTube also allows us to spend Christmas Day with folks from around the world.

So with that being stated, here is a smattering of my finds on YouTube on this rainy, blustery, December 25th, 2011:

Merry Christmas!

The Red Wagon

I had to go to the Hastings Sunrise area of Vancouver today for an appointment. On my way there, I drove past this restaurant called The Red Wagon. As I drove by it, I could see that it was packed inside and there were people standing by the door waiting to go in. As an ardent fan of the weekend brunch, I’m always on the look-out for new restaurants to try - especially the ones that serve the all day breakfast specials!

So after my appointment, I went to The Red Wagon. Luckily, there was one spot left at the counter when I had arrived (a perfect example of why it pays to be single in Vancouver!). I sat down and was greeted by a friendly young lady who immediately brought me a coffee and a copy of The Vancouver Sun.

Walking into the restaurant, you’ll notice that the interior is pretty basic. You won’t find any funky art hanging on the wall. It’s basically a space filled with tables and chairs. I saw a chalk board with the specials written on it and an old sign advertising Crush (a soft drink). But other than that, the walls were void of any distractions. There’s plenty of natural light coming-in from the large windows and the combination of eclectic patrons and wait-staff makes the environment hip and welcoming at the same time.

As I sat there taking in my surroundings, I noticed that my place mat was essentially a plain white piece of paper. Now I realize that this may not be much of a surprise to very many people, but I thought it was a very good idea for the simple reason that some diners might want to use it to jot down ideas, contact information, etc. And for parents dining with their kids, it can act as a blank canvas for their children to draw on, thus occupying their attention while giving their parents some much needed R&R.

Now as many of you know, the state of a restaurant’s washrooms can be enough to make a patron run for the hills! But not in this case, for the unisex bathroom was spotless! In order to access it though, you have to walk past the dish pit and the kitchen. And unlike some Asian restaurants in the city, a trip to the bathroom at The Red Wagon won’t leave you wondering if and when you’ll be “praying at the porcelain altar”!

But watch your step! The floor can be slippery - Whooooooooooosh!

My coffee was never cold thanks to the awesome service from the staff, and the smoked salmon scramble was delicious. Mind you, my bill for a coffee and breakfast came to a total of $14.92. So it isn’t cheap! And a post-meal walk within the neighbourhood revealed other restaurants offering the “All Day Breakfasts” for less than $10 (and in some cases, $5!).

But I didn’t mind paying the extra amount and in fact, I ended-up leaving a twenty. In my haste to get to the appointment on-time, I forgot to take my wallet with me. The staff were totally cool about the situation and entrusted me with the task of doing the right thing. No raised eyebrows. No third degree. Just a simple understanding that I would be back to pay my bill.

By the time I came back, the restaurant was stilled packed and there were still people waiting for a seat by the door (which really didn’t surprise me considering my experience earlier today).

Thank to The Red Wagon, I now have a reason to come back to the Hastings Sunrise Neighbourhood and more importantly, a new place to pay homage to the almighty brunch!

For more info visit: http://www.redwagoncafe.com/

Occupy Vancouver.

Photo credit: Jason Payne, PNG

As I stepped-off the bus and made my way towards the corner of Howe and West Georgia, I felt the cold air etching into my bones. Having under-dressed for the weather, I quickened my pace towards my destination, navigating around the usual throng of weekend pedestrians, silently cursing myself for leaving those extra layers at home.

Photo credit: ctv.ca

Crossing Howe Street, I could see various posters coming into view, hanging from a piece of rope along the perimeter of the tents. Their hand-written messages were as varied as the multi-coloured paper they were written on. While each message was unique, they all had a common theme:

Conflict.

Whether it was the need for greater love in the world or a call for action against corporate greed, the conflict between the expectations of the authors versus what society had to offer was very evident as I walked towards to centre of the encampment.

One of the first things that I noticed was the fountain. Drained of its water, I could clearly see the chunk of missing tiles broken-away from its core. It was like seeing a handsome face but with broken teeth. As my mind conjured up the imaginary circumstances that could have preceded this attack, I could hear the distinctive sound of the didgeridoo emanating from the steps of the art gallery.

The indigenous sounds mixed with rhythmic beats were fuelling a small group of revellers on the dance floor in front of me. As their bodies twirled around and around, I could see two women completely absorbed in the moment. The grins on their faces reminded me of the images that I once saw of Woodstock in a TIME-Life Magazine. The only thing that was missing were the dandelions in their hair.

As I walked around, I couldn’t help but to notice all of the people taking pictures. With their expensive-looking gear, these people seemed out of place amongst the weather-worn collection of tents, cardboard signs and dirt. I wanted to ask them why they were taking so many pictures? It made me feel as if I were at a zoo, and the occupants were nothing more than attractions - a photo opt just there for the taking.

I wanted to engage some of these residents in a dialogue to understand their motivations for participating in this encampment, but the only ones that I saw amongst the tents were a group of young people that looked like they wouldn’t be open to speaking with an “outsider” like me. Even dressed in modest clothing, I felt as if they would have viewed me as the “enemy”, as the 1%. I wish I had the courage to challenge my notions, but in the end, my own fears in addition to the damp chill won the upper-hand.

I decided to make my way towards the Pacific Centre across the street, a refuge from the cold and from the alien world that I just entered. As I left the heart of the encampment, I couldn’t help but to notice the towering symbols of opulence and material wealth that surrounded the tents. With their imposing structures looming over me, The Hotel Vancouver, The Hotel Georgia and the TD Bank Tower were vivid reminders of the fact that we live in a capitalist society that will always be comprised of the ‘haves and the have-nots”.

As I walked past the Hotel Georgia on my way to the mall, I saw a vastly different scene being played-out before me. Through the Gaussian blur of translucent curtains, I saw a dining room filled to capacity with hotel patrons engaged in various forms of conversation and consumption. Amid the glow of candlelight, a cast of handsome waiters performed their obligatory duties, fluttering around the patrons like a team of butterflies, each one helping to create a cocoon from the ugliness outside.

Photo credit: vancitybuzz.com

Walking past the front doors, I overheard the doorman expressing his views about the scene before him to a couple of hotel patrons standing nearby. The short snippets of commentary that I managed to catch indicated that he was not in favour of what he saw (Which didn’t come as much of a surprise to me given the fact that he was just “toeing the party line”).

But I wondered if he ever stopped to think about just how easy it would be for him to end up on the “wrong side” of the street.

The very same attitude that fuels our indifference towards individuals who are marginalized by society is the same attitude that we will need to rectify if there is to be any lasting change as a result of the occupy movement. The attitude that these people don’t matter to us and have no effect on our lives or the ones that we love should serve as a warning to us all that no one lives on an “island”.

Just ask anyone who has ever been victimized by crime. How easily we forget that a downturn in the economy, a bump to the head, a flick of a pen, or just simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time can land any of us on that “side of the street”.

After Monday, the tent city will be no more. A court injunction will make sure of that.

But once the clean-up is complete and the repairs have been made, will there be any lasting change as a result of Occupy Vancouver?

The need for money in order to survive will never change. And as long as we live in a capitalist society, there will always be those who possess more material wealth than others. But for those of us who are not part of that exclusive membership, we have to be willing to exercise our purchasing power in order to create any lasting, meaningful change.

After all, in a society where money "talks", it’s the only way for any of us to really be heard.