Erin's Journals

As you know, Rob and I love to travel. We’ve been uncharacteristically anchored this year by the job I unexpectedly took on doing middays at Ocean 98.5, a position I expect to vacate within a few months as a new kind of technology slides into place. It’s a great move and very exciting and, as much as having a show every day gave my life a much needed sense of normalcy in the past year, I’ll be happy to be a little more untethered when it comes to hopping on a plane. But after last Friday’s experience at the airport, I’ll approach the whole travel thing with a little more trepidation. Here’s why.
 
We arrived at YYJ in plenty of time to check in for our flight on Alaska Airlines. Strangely, even though Rob went online and reserved our seats, even giving the necessary information as so-called Trusted Travelers, we were able to check in that way but not able to print boarding passes. Huh?
 
As we stepped up to the standing kiosks at Alaska Airlines, they were all shut down with laminated paper signs saying they were not in operation. We barely had time to remark on how strange that seemed, when a tall young man wearing a crisp white shirt and a badge or two asked if we were checking in. When we replied in the affirmative, he led us towards the check-in desk and stopped us there, saying he would have to ask us some questions.
 
Wait, what? We agreed (of course). He asked where we were going and why. He looked at Rob’s passport picture and remarked, “I see you’ve shaved your beard. I’m going to have to ask you a few additional questions.” Honestly, the way this was going, I thought I’d have to hand over my phone so he could see if I’d tweeted about Herr Drumpf. (He didn’t.) Instead, we got the usual questions about who had packed our bags, where they’d been since we closed them and if anyone else had had access to them. He also asked Rob and me what we do for a living.
 
When he explained that this was increased TSA security, I asked what would have happened if there had been 20 people in line instead of just us, and he pointed to the other three gents who were standing chatting. Still, that would have meant very slowly moving lineups and therefore some seriously close calls for people trying to catch flights into the US. Apparently this has been going on since the start of the year.
 
But our security experience wasn’t over yet. “Trusted Traveller” and Nexus card or not, Rob was randomly flagged for extra security. That meant when we went through security with everyone else, they took Rob aside to go through a scanner, went through our shared carry-on suitcase and asked him a handful more questions. 
 
We were perplexed at this whole undertaking and relieved to see that our flight to Seattle was delayed by fifteen minutes. I mean, we weren’t cutting it that closely, but if our cab had been even later than it was in picking us up, we’d have been sweating for real. 
 
Finally, we were called to board our plane. And there, just after our boarding passes and passports had been scanned, stood another officer with a few more questions about suitcases. Had anyone been with them while we awaited the flight – things like that. 
 
The entire episode left us shaken. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for security (or the illusion of it that comes from one shoe bomber causing us all to have to go barefoot, while one mass shooting only brings looser gun laws). It just had some deeper undertones to it that I still can’t put my finger on.
 
Maybe – just maybe – I think I had a glimpse, just for a moment, of what it might be like to have skin darker than my own. To be pulled over, searched, questioned or mistrusted for absolutely no reason except that I’m a “foreigner” to the United States. I know it’s dangerous to conflate the sudden and temporary loss of the ease of passage that I’ve known all my life with what millions and millions of people go through every single day, but just that one hour, that one day, I had my eyes opened.
 
Back with you here tomorrow.
 

I’ll start with a brief mention of yesterday’s big news: the tsunami alert that was sent out across coastal BC after that massive earthquake up north of us in Alaska. There were warnings and evacuations, all of which Rob and I slept through, as we have our phones set on airplane mode. I even missed a call from Breakfast Television in Toronto (sorry Kevin and Dina)! But all is well, there was no tsunami and many people here are now questioning their emergency preparedness.
 
Rob and I live about 125 metres above sea level; in fact, Dean Park – our area – is where some people brought their families to wait out the warning. As we say, thankfully, all’s well and the waters rose at most by just three centimetres.
 
*****
 
I can’t lie. There are some things I miss about Toronto and I mean A LOT. Besides, of course, our human connections, our biggest has to be the cultural scene. When I think of the shows that came through that Rob and I had the opportunity to see (and as part of my job, at that!) I so miss all of the Mirvish Productions and other great entertainment offerings. Am I ever going to see Come From Away? Maybe in April when we make our way east again…I’ll have to check and see what’s in town!
 
Like the Joni Mitchell song goes, “You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.” This past weekend we flew to another city and stayed two nights in a hotel with the primary (and initial) aim of seeing a comic that I’m sure I’d have passed on if he came to Massey Hall on a weekend and we were at the cottage. We were so dedicated to our cocooning time that I know we missed out on a lot and now I’m realizing just how much. This summer, for example, Jeff Lynne’s ELO show is coming to TO. What? In my entire lifetime I never thought I’d see Electric Light Orchestra and there they’ll be. GAH! 
 
Last week, I was having a coffee meeting with a few women from the area whom I’ll be interviewing at a future Peninsula Newcomers’ luncheon. One of them asked me, upon hearing I’d moved here from Toronto, whether I could adjust to the much slower pace. I said it was no problem at all – that some of my favourite memories were made in sleepy cottage country towns. But I do miss the live performances. Yes we have them here – 70s/80s singer-songwriter Valdy performed locally this month, Jann Arden was here in December and Hedley is coming to town in a few weeks – but ELO? That’s a big N-O.
 
And so it was that when we found ourselves with a Saturday afternoon free in our host city, we were thrilled to find that there was a performance of a play by the Pulitzer Prize-winning writer August Wilson. The seventh of a ten-part Pittsburgh Cycle of plays (of which the incredible Fences was one), Two Trains Running was nominated for a Pulitzer and won Tony Awards on Broadway. On Friday night, we bit the bullet and bought two front row balcony seats (a spot from which we’ve never seen a play) for a Saturday matinée show that was almost full.
 
The next morning, after seeking out a good cup of coffee (which in Seattle is like searching for a satisfying glass of wine in the Niagara region – easy pickings) we joined the Women’s March and followed the crowd straight to the Seattle Center, picked up our tickets and took our seats.
 
The Seattle production of Two Trains Running, set in a diner in the late 1960s, was everything we’d hoped it would be: touching, entertaining, enlightening and so very well performed. As an added bonus, after the show we gathered in another, smaller theatre to have the chance to ask questions of all of the cast members save one. What a treat that was! (The title refers to the number of chances daily that diner owner Mr. Memphis Lee has to catch a ride back home and reclaim the southern farmland he was chased from decades earlier.)
 
It’s no wonder at the end of the day, as we turned off Saturday Night Live at 10 pm (gotta love the Pacific Time Zone), we felt we’d just had one of our best days ever. But tomorrow – a really strange encounter at security. Is this the new normal?
 

I’m still feeling a glow from that weekend in Seattle and the most surprising element of it all: the empowerment that came from joining in a sea of pink hats and clever signs and taking to the streets of a city that wasn’t my own, but that welcomed Rob and me to take part in the Women’s March on Saturday. 
 
Maybe those are the most memorable events in our lives: the ones that pop up and surprise you. The comedy show we went to see on Sunday night was all we’d hoped for; Lewis Black was profound, profane and very, very funny. We did have more than a few minutes of “oh, no…” when there were not one, but two opening acts. We’d figured with Mr. Black taking the stage at 7, we’d be out by 9 at the latest and have plenty of time to get to the airport for our 10:45 pm boarding.
 
There was a huge long intermission after the second warmup and then the TV comic, playwright and actor (you may have seen him in Big Bang Theory, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, among numerous other appearances) finally took the stage. As soon as he took his bows at around 9:30, we dashed up the dark aisle to get out and jog the four blocks to our hotel where we retrieved our bags and hopped into a cab.
 
But that was only the beginning of yet another adventure, as a trollish older man drove us in his well-worn-out yellow cab the twenty minutes to SeaTac. As the car’s hot smell began to rise and I wondered if we’d be stranded at the roadside, its driver began telling us about all of the drugs at the top of the tech industry (he says he’d driven a Google exec who was obviously on “illicit drugs,” how hemp oil hooked people and then got them on cocaine and meth, how Supreme Court Judge Scalia’s death should have been looked into more closely by the Republicans, how Germany wants to take over the world while the US wants to be like Denmark….
 
I engaged in the conversation, trying to point out other sides to some of the ideas he was espousing, but I knew there was no point. This guy was getting his “facts” from Fox News or Alex Jones and Info Wars (or worse) and there wasn’t going to be any real discussion here.
 
Sometimes just reading the comments on political articles, I get the feeling there are a lot of people out there like this man – and not just in the US, either – and the internet just feeds their strange ideas and theories. I mean, when a commentator comes on Fox saying that the massacre in Las Vegas might have Isis ties – and you know people (including the American president) treat what’s on that station as gospel – how do you even fight that? 
 
Instead, you raise your voice and march. Did the hundreds of similar demonstrations around the world on Saturday and Sunday make any difference? I know change won’t come today or tomorrow, but we’re building yet another generation of strong young women and men who know that things need to change and that the status quo isn’t good enough. I overheard a little girl holding her daddy’s hand as her mother held a toddler in her arms. As they walked behind me, the girl asked her dad, “Why is everyone wearing pink?” 
 
I struggled to hear his answer and was ultimately unable. But here’s the short version of what I would have told Lauren: it’s because there are things that are happening to girls and women that are unfair here and around the world. And because pink is a colour that’s long been associated with girls, they’re wearing it to show that they’re all sisters and that they’re stronger together, helping each other.
 
That’s sure how it felt. Tomorrow: helping to heal what we miss about Toronto by taking in some theatre.
 

Last year, I felt as if I had truly missed out on something when I chose not to take part alongside 2,000 people in Victoria and millions around the world in a groundbreaking Women’s March. Tomorrow, there’s a good chance I’ll at least see one, as we take a trip south of the border in search of laughter.
 
Rob and I were watching Late Night with Seth Meyers last week and one of our favourite comedians was on. If you’ve not heard of Lewis Black, he’s kind of a tough act to describe: fist shaking, finger pointing and voice raised, he’s the personification of “mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.” We first became fans when he’d appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart in a segment called Back in Black. If you have kids and saw the wonderful movie Inside Out, Lewis Black was the voice of the emotion anger.
 
Luckily, because we caught him on Meyers’ show, we learned that Black is bringing his “The Rant is Due” act to Seattle this weekend. We decided “why not?” and managed to buy tickets for Sunday. So we’ll fly out today after the show, stay two nights and fly home after the performance. Just as we did in Chicago a few years back, we’ll take our carry-on to the theatre, leave it with coat check and then hop a cab or even get on the train to the airport Sunday night. Fingers crossed!
 
I love that downtown train thing, especially the price: $2.50. When my pal Lisa and I went to Seattle last spring, we flew to SeaTac, caught the train and then walked to our hotel. So civilized! I’ve been back to Seattle since to enjoy that Blue Jays series, but we were driving then. This will be better by far. And Rob and I will spend the weekend exploring Seattle on foot and maybe even taking part in that march. It would be a first in my lifetime, but if not now, when? 
 
There’s a very good chance that although there will be a journal here Monday, there won’t be an audio version. It won’t be because I’ll have blown out my voice yelling or chanting or even cheering for Mr. Black, but simply because we’ll be getting home in the wee hours of Monday and I won’t have a chance to record one. I know Caru, the audio journal sponsor, will understand and hope you will, too.
 
In the meantime, have a great weekend – I know we will – and I’ll have lots of stories (good ones, I hope) and photos to share with you next week. Thank you for coming by.