day 3: st. louis

Yesterday we hung around the Airbnb apartment in the morning, stopped at a supermarket to pick up some food for lunch, then headed just over the state line to Illinois, about 15 minutes away, to the Cahokia mounds. 

I have a lifelong interest in (and sometimes obsession with) the Indigenous peoples of the Americas. Allan and I also love visiting ancient ruins and neolithic sites; that has been the biggest focus of our travels, and I would do it a lot more of that if I could. 

Despite that, I was completely unaware of the existence of Cahokia, until reading the book Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age by Annalee Newitz a few years ago. Newitz highlights four ancient urban populations: Pompeii (we've been there), Ankgor Wat (which I'd love to see but probably never will), Catalhoyuk (which I dream of seeing, along with Istanbul and other places in that part of the world), and Cahokia. I loved reading about Cahokia, and was amazed that I had never heard of it before.

[A very long time ago, Allan and I attended a huge music festival in New Orleans, then drove around Louisiana and Mississippi in search of music, and landmarks and remnants of blues history. On the Natchez Trace Parkway, we stumbled on a huge preserved mound, and learned about these ancient earthworks for the first time. We also rescued a dog.]

When researching for this current trip, I was vaguely thinking, I wonder where those mounds are -- and was thrilled to discover they are right outside St. Louis! Thank you, Annalee Newitz! I immediately saw that the site's interpretive centre and museum would be closed for major renovations through most of 2025. That's disappointing, but there's tons of information online, and that helps a lot.

Cahokia

Pre-contact, Cahokia was the largest population centre in what is now North America. By the time European settlers found the site, it had been abandoned. At the height of its civilization, around 1100 CE (AD), Cahokia was home to between 10,000 and 20,000 people, larger than many European cities at the time. The Cahokians built a vast network of earthenworks, using only human labour and without metal tools, moving millions of bushels of earth in woven baskets. The Cahokia Mounds Historic State Historic Site is the largest grouping of ancient earthworks in the Americas. (Cahokia is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site -- another travel obsession of mine.)

Cahokia originally contained 120 mounds. Many of those were flattened and destroyed when highways were built -- which is both mind-boggling and exactly what you'd expect. Ancient mounds were also flattened because they were thought to be natural topography, and because of the total disregard and lack of respect for the cultures that preceded white settlement. The Illinois state historic site preserves 77 of the existing 82 mounds. But according to the "Re-Envisioning Greater Cahokia," by the Prairie Research Institute at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign:

Within 7 miles of Monks Mound are another dozen contemporaneous "mound centers" or towns, and within 15 miles there are another five mound sites. Tens of thousands of people--farmers mostly--once lived out here. That makes Greater Cahokia the center of a metropolitan area that covers three Illinois and two Missouri counties - a total of about 3000 sq. miles. Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site contains just 3000 acres, and the palisaded portion of the site around Monks Mound that many visitors consider to be "Cahokia" is just 200 acres.

That link above contains a lot of great information on the mounds and what happened to them, in very clear and accessible format. 

Cahokians built with wood, not stone, so their buildings do not survive. That makes visiting Cahokia and any mound site a less dramatic experience than visiting the Aztec pyramids or the Olmec colossal heads or Machu Picchu, for example. The mounds require more imagination, which is where having a good interpretative centre would come in. 

However, when you climb to the top of Cahokia's largest mound, and look all around, you can see that the land here is completely flat. You can see the Mississippi River, a levee, the Arch, the St. Louis skyline, and miles and miles of flat -- dotted by mounds of all different sizes. 

At Cahokia, there is also a reconstruction of so-called Woodhenge, a ceremonial circle of wooden poles, aligned for sunrise at the winter and summer solstices, like the neolithic stone circles found throughout modern-day England, Ireland, and other places in northwest Europe. (We've seen a lot of these.) The wood pole circles are known through the remaining post-holes. At least some of them were built with red cedar, which is sacred to many Indigenous peoples.

I originally thought we would hike all around Cahokia to see many of the mounds, but you can actually see them better from further away, and you can only climb onto one mound. The largest surviving mound is called Monks Mound, named because -- long after Cahokia had been abandoned -- French Trappist monks built a house on top of it. On Monks Mound, modern steps have been built where ancient ramps used to be. Our friends at the University of Illinois write:

Its main icon, Monks Mound, is the largest earthen mound in North America (and the third-largest pyramid in the entire Western Hemisphere). Yet it is almost hidden in plain sight just east of the St. Louis urban area. Thousands of unaware drivers pass it daily on Interstate 55-70.

After climbing up Monks Mound and seeing the reconstructed Woodhenge, and reading all the markers, we had lunch at a picnic table, then drove further into Illinois, through some small towns, into East St. Louis, and back to the apartment. 

East St. Louis is a very poor, depressed area. It was the focus of sustained uprisings and protests after Michael Brown was killed by a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri. Where we were driving, it seemed like every third house was abandoned, burned, or collapse. There was a smattering of what must be public housing that looked good and solid, but it was a tiny portion of the overall poverty and decimation. As my friend Joe often quotes from this blog, "GBA! GNOTFOE!"*

Donuts, bookstores, red-sauce

Back in St. Louis, we visited two of Allan's travel obsessions. 

First we stopped in at World's Fair Donuts, reputed to be the city's best, and to have old-fashioned cake donuts. We had a nice chat with the owner, who said Cahokia was "near and dear to his heart," and certainly looked like he had Indigenous ancestry along with his African roots. 

I had one of the cinnamon cake donuts, and it was amazing. I'm not much for donuts -- usually too sweet and light -- but this was delicious. It seemed like the donuts I remember eating as a child in farmstands during apple season -- dense, cakey, not overly sweet.

We also found one bookstore on Allan's ever-present list. I had no interest and was tired, so I stayed in the car and read. Since we're flying (not driving) home, Allan promised to restrain himself, and he did return to the car without a bag. I was impressed! 

Then we went back to the apartment to rest and plan where to have dinner. We thought we were going to do ribs (local lingo: barbecue), but it was difficult to figure out for dinner. We also wanted to try at least one of the three famous local foods: toasted ravioli, St. Louis-style pizza, and gooey cake. 

St. Louis style pizza is made with a cracker-like crust and "provel" -- a processed cheese blend of provolone, cheddar, and swiss cheese, with a Velveeta-like consistency. To this former New Yorker, this sounds truly disgusting. But I would like to try the other two. 

We decided to wait on the ribs, and have dinner in The Hill, the old Italian district not far from where we're staying. Allan chose Mama's on the Hill. This is what foodies would describe as an old "red-sauce" restaurant, the traditional southern Italian cooking many of us associate with Italian food, before more nuanced, regional Italian cooking came to the food scene. In the past I might not have been interested, having eaten a lot of it in my lifetime, but I haven't had really good Italian food in many years.

To our surprise, the restaurant was packed! People were waiting for tables, but they were large groups, and we got seated immediately. We split toasted ravioli as an appetizer, half meat and half cheese. They are small, crunchy, fried raviolis. Crunchy and very light. The meat variety were delicious. The cheese were not. Now I've tasted provel, and I don't need to that again.

I order lasagna. It was delicious, definitely not made with provel, and at least three-quarters of it is now in our fridge.

It was a lovely, clear, cool night, and we had a nice stroll back to the car. The timing of this trip was around baseball games, but it was also important to get here before summer. It's already quite warm here, and humid, and makes us grateful (as we always are) to live where it's cool and never gets too hot.

* "God Bless America! Greatest Nation on the Face of the Earth!" a slogan we all grew up hearing.

day 2: st. louis

We're kind of doing this trip in reverse order of importance. The things we most want to see -- the impetus for the trip -- are coming last, a function of what day things are open, when baseball teams are in town, and a significant price difference of flights. 

Besides Cahokia, which we are visiting today (day three) and the game, anything we see or do in St. Louis is an extra. So our enjoyment on our first day in the city was unexpected and really fun.

* * * *

In the morning we headed out to a supermarket to pick up a few things to keep in the apartment for breakfast. The store was the gigantic suburban variety, the kind I drool over. Allan said he actually shared my supermarket-envy. In these kinds of places, I always want to over-buy. I assume I'm not alone, that the store is created that way. We were very restrained! 

Southwest Diner

Then we drove around looking for a place to eat from the list Allan made of old-fashioned diners. Each one was out of business or somehow not where it was supposed to be. This turned out to be great, because we ended up at Southwest Diner, where the atmosphere, decor, food, and service were all amazing.

Southwest Diner is a cross between an old-fashioned diner and a Mexican cantina, with an authentic and unpretentious vibe, super-friendly staff, and a really interesting menu. The food was delicious, and of course nothing I can get at home -- not only in Port Hardy, but ever. I have never lived anywhere with good southwest or Mexican food, so I love to eat that when I travel. I see huevos rancheros on a menu, and I can't order anything else. We really enjoyed this place.

Gateway Arch National Park: the Arch

We made a quick stop at the apartment to put away groceries, then drove downtown to see the arch: Gateway Arch National Park. This is the city's most famous attraction, the image that is most associated with St. Louis, so of course we're going to see it. But my expectations were very low. I don't know what I was expecting, but I can say "not much".

I was completely surprised to immediately find it impressive and beautiful. I had that instantaneous feeling I get from certain great art or architecture, an emotional response that that I cannot describe. It just hits, like a fullness, a little intake of breath like an inaudible gasp. That probably sounds either weird or too vague, I think because it's an intuitive, emotional thing; it comes from a place where words don't apply.

Walking from the parking lot where we left the car, down to the river, we could see the pieces of the arch between downtown buildings. We passed the Old Courthouse, which has been closed for renovations and is having a grand re-opening the day we leave the city. There are statues of two people: Dred and Harriett Scott, the two Black Americans who fought for their rights all the way to the Supreme Court, in the famous case known as the Dred Scott decision. This is one of US history's most defining and shameful moments. The case was argued in this courthouse.

There are historical markers all around the courthouse and the adjacent park, as this is the oldest part of the city.

Then you see the arch, this huge, shiny parabola framing empty sky. The sky is part of the picture. The arch was built to commemorate the Corps of Discovery -- the launching of Lewis and Clark's journey west, both the symbolic and literal beginning of westward expansion. Through the arch, you see nothing but sky, the endless emptyness -- which is how the dominant culture of that time thought of the west. An empty world, waiting for them to "discover", claim, and conquer it. Western expansion is a heartbreaking story, and it's also integral to understanding the US and all American history. (Canada's expansion story has many similarities, but also many differences.)

The arch itself is graceful and absolutely beautiful. The arch -- not the shape it describes in the sky, but the actual material object -- is pyramidal (a three-dimensional triangle) and slightly torqued. It was designed by Eero Saarinen and was an engineering marvel of its era. 

Inside the arch, there is a tram: you can ride to the top for panaromic views. We aren't interested in doing that, but it's kind of crazy that it even exists. The structure itself does not seem designed to transport humans! Allan could never tolerate the claustrophobia, and although I enjoy exploring tiny, closed-in spaces, the idea of this ride did not appeal to me.

After you ascend the hill that the arch is built on, you see the Mississippi River below it, and a famous railroad bridge that was once a symbol of St. Louis. There's a processing plant a casino on the other side, so unfortunately the words "Casino Queen" and "Cargill" are part of the view. The Mississippi itself is not impressive, but like all famous rivers, it's all about the context. This is the river of Mark Twain and Huckleberry Finn, of the slave trade, of the end of a way of life for the original inhabitants of the west, and the beginning of all the mythmaking.

This arch thing, it is really something.

Gateway Arch National Park: Museum of Westward Expansion

Under the arch is the Museum of Westward Expansion. It is huge, with an enormous amount to read, see, and explore, much of it interactive. It interprets every aspect of western expansion -- the Indigenous peoples and what happened to them (including present cultures and conditions), the struggles between the three imperial powers for control of the continent, the experiences of the white settlers, the Lewis and Clark expedition, the natural environment, some of the history of the city of St. Louis, the class divisions of the time, the myth of the American West in literature and movies, the architectural competition for the commemorative monument, and the building of the Gateway Arch. And probably 20 other things I can't think of right now.

The museum does a beautiful job of telling American history honestly, with perspectives of Indigenous people, Black people (both free and enslaved), and women, and providing context for everything. Of course much of it is horrifying and heartbreaking, and the very definition of injustice. Some pieces of the story are about amazing feats of courage and strength -- because the individual settlers who set out into the vast unknown, to try to create a better life for themselves and their families, are distinct from the imperial powers that led them to be there. I thought the narratives did an excellent job of simple honesty, presenting multiple, factual perspectives. 

More than once, I wondered how a national historic site like this will survive the fascist takeover of the country that is now in progress. Federal funding will be withdrawn. Will the actual exhibits be shuttered? Will they be destroyed? If it's destroyed, will it ever be rebuilt? The US finally is facing a more truthful reading of its history, and we are witnessing the powerful, intense backlash.

We experienced the museum as much as we could, sampling information throughout, not just walking through it, but also not reading every word, which would take an entire day and would be a huge information overload. What we did see and read was very impressive, truly excellent.

Naturally there is a huge gift shop, but it was shutting down just as we arrived. When we are downtown for the game on Friday night, we want to return to the gift shop, and also get some photos of the railroad bridge visible from the arch, and see a historic church in the same park. 

We were planning on going to dinner, when we were caught in a sudden, massive thundershower. In the few blocks between the arch and the parking garage, we got completely soaked. We managed to protect our camera and my phone by ducking under some trees near the Old Courthouse, but ended up soaked straight through to our underwear. We had to go back to the apartment to change clothes and re-group.

Cherokee Street for Mexican Food

We discussed the various options for authentic Mexican food for dinner, and settled on Tacqueria Bronco, in the Cherokee Street neighbourhood. In all the neighbourhoods that we've driven through, where we're staying and in several adjacent areas, the streets are lined with small brick houses, very old but well kept up, and huge, mature trees in full leaf. It's beautiful. Some of the houses are bigger, but those seem to be duplexes (or semi-detached, or two-family houses, depending where you're from), and there are even some triplexes. All small brick houses, all large leafy trees.

The Cherokee Street area is full of antique stores, Mexican restaurants, and rainbow-pride. Tacqueria Bronco is a basic, working-class kind of restaurant, with simple, inexpensive, homemade food, the kind of place we like to eat in wherever we are. It's in an area full of Mexican restaurants and grocery stores (one store called Mexico Vive Aqui), a Mexican bakery (sadly or perhaps fortunately closing as we arrived), Mexican music spilling out of kitchens, and people grilling and selling homemade tamales on the sidewalk. There were some signs for community activism around ICE raids, reminding residents that both undocumented and documented people are being rounded up and deported.

Dinner was great, and I'm loving the time change in this direction. It seems like I'm staying up so late!

greetings from st. louis (day 1, part two)

The only slightly disconcerting issue of this trip was the border. I don't need to elaborate why. It is a very strange time to be traveling to this very strange country.

As some of you may recall, I've had some issues with US border guards: in 2009, I was targetted and harassed for my activism with US Iraq War resisters. That went on for a full year. Since then, we have crossed back and forth at least once or twice a year, sometimes more frequently, and have never had even the slightest issue.

We were fairly confident all would be well. An older, white, hetero couple on a sightseeing trip with a definite end date: that pretty much ticks every box for not being hassled. The stories of Canadians being searched or detained at the border are all from land crossings, which is typically where harassment takes place. And those stories are undoubtedly a very tiny percentage of crossings being made, even with the number of Canadians visiting the US plummeting.

And yet. The stories are horrendous, and there are no guarantees. So we had just a wee bit of concern, and were not looking forward to that bit. 

The upshot: absolutely nothing. Three flights, three rounds of security, and one border crossing: simple and completely uneventful.

The travel itself was about as easy as it gets. After our foray in Richmond, we spent the rest of the long layover reading and listening to music. That flight, from Vancouver to Denver, was delayed a bit, so we had less waiting at the next leg. 

On the Denver to St. Louis flight, we treated ourselves to a drink and a snack box, and enjoyed ourselves. Baggage claim was a breeze. Picking up the rental car was annoying and slow, but eventually we picked up a big, brand-new SUV, and navigated our way to the Airbnb. 

We're staying in an upstairs apartment in what looks like a beautiful, old, quiet neighbourhood of lovely brick houses and huge, leafy trees. The apartment is gorgeous, right out of an Ikea catalogue, beyond spotlessly clean. We are not exactly traveling light (we never do!), so getting up the steep flight of stairs with all our stuff was no fun, but we only have to do that once. 

The host has a lot of great information on St. Louis neighbourhoods. While I did the bare minimum of set-up, Allan went into tour-guide mode and has already found places to eat. (Typically, I do all the advance planning, and Allan does the day-to-day once we arrive. It works beautifully.) I just about managed to get enough done to be comfortable in the morning, washed up, and changed into fresh sleep gear before sinking into bed. I fully expect to be sore or possibly crippled from carrying too much stuff.

A general note about air travel

We all know air travel has gotten much worse. The airline industry seems intent on making travel as expensive and unpleasant as possible, cutting staff and service to the bone, and demanding fees for an ever-expanding list of necessities that have become extras. This is all well documented. And Canadians well know that Air Canada has always been ahead of the curve on this.

We have grown so accustomed to these extra fees that we may not always remember how ridiculously unfair they are. Why should we pay to check luggage? Luggage is a necessity of travel. Why should we pay extra for a necessity?? Congratulations to you folks who avoid fees by not checking luggage, but I find that incredibly inconvenient -- and mostly impossible, especially if I'm alone. We always pay for luggage check. And we're used to it. And we shouldn't have to be.

And now we have to pay for seat selection. For seat selection! That is completely insane! You might say that is optional, but if you've ever had a long flight in an awful seat, you might rethink. On this trip, I spent about $450 on seats. Is that nuts or what? And interestingly, you can't use points for seat selection.

I didn't pay for seat selection on the 45-minute flights between Vancouver and Comox. Who cares where we sit and whether we sit together for those. But for the rest -- Vancouver to Denver, Denver to St Louis, St Louis to Toronto, and Toronto to Vancouver -- I wanted to be reasonably comfortable in a decent section of the plane. 

More accurately, I wanted Allan to be more comfortable so I wouldn't have to listen to him complain so much! Allan doesn't love to fly: the discomfort of being shoehorned into a small space, and the proximity to so many people rates a very high irritability factor. We've all got our things, and this is one of his. On this trip, I paid extra for "premium economy" seats. I actually looked into getting one business-class seat for Allan for the Toronto-to-Vancouver leg, but it was prohibitively expensive. (I would have done it anyway, but I knew he wouldn't want me to spend the money.) The upgraded economy seats made a significant difference. Both flights yesterday were easy and pleasant. But seriously, $450??

I am willing to put up with inconvenience, discomfort, and bad customer service because travel. I expect it, I accept it, and for me, travel is always worth it. My craving to see and experience new places outweighs everything else. But looking more objectively, beyond my own equation, this is completely ridiculous. What other industry could get away with consistenly charging more while delivering less? 

greetings from st. louis (day 1, part one)

I worked on Saturday, then we had two ridiculously busy days. But whatever, we were getting ready to leave, so I was happy. A cleaner bailed at the last minute, so in addition to the various phone calls and errands and dog instructions and orienting new dogsitters and laundry and ironing (yes, ironing, believe it or not), lawn-mowing, wood-splitting and whatever else, we were cleaning the house, too. Allan is never in the best mood when he's so busy, so I was dealing with that, too.

But eventually, we got out of the house and had a chance to relax while driving down to the Comox Valley. We stayed at the Coast Courtenay -- a freebie paid for with Coast Rewards. That was the icing on the cake after getting the entire airfare and half the rental car through Aeroplan points.

In the room, we watched election returns until we hit exhaustion. Tanille Johnston, our NDP candidate who I really admire and strongly support, was leading in the early going. After Rachel Blaney declined to run again, I had pretty much resigned myself to having a Conservative MP. Then Aaron Gunn turned out to be a racist idiot (seriously, he is both), and with Tanille ahead in the early hours of counting, I got my hopes up. By the time we went to sleep, Gunn had taken the lead, but Tanille was still closing the gap. 

I was so exhausted that I nearly went to sleep in the disgusting clothes I had been in all day, but rallied a bit. I slept maybe four hours, woke up at 1:00 a.m., saw the final results for our riding and the country.

We knew the NDP would fare poorly, for reasons both of their own doing and well beyond their control, but I didn't expect such a total collapse, with Jagmeet losing his seat. On the other hand, I was doing a happy dance over Poilievre losing his seat. Who would imagine that the American dictator would help us dodge that (seemingly inevitable) bullet. I am happier about PP losing his seat than I am sad about Jagmeet losing his.

And then there is Aaron Gunn. He is an embarrassment, wholly unfit to sit in Parliament. I won't be at all surprised if he does something unconscionable and is forced to resign. Although he has already done something unconscionable, and his party and his voters don't care. Allan and I are absolutely disgusted at his election.

I let Allan sleep til 3:30, then we left the car at the Comox Valley Airport, and took a short and easy flight to Vancouver. Then: all that preparation, and hotel room and super-early wake-up, and now it was only 6:30 a.m. and we had an almost seven-hour layover in Vancouver. A few weeks ago, I had a brilliant idea of what to do with that time -- and I want to capture it here.

In which we cross something off our list and I congratulate myself incessantly 

We have this expensive luggage, purchased from our insurance settlement after the Great Sewage Flood of 2008. Briggs & Riley luggage is guaranteed for life, repaired or replaced, no questions asked. At some point in the last year or so, my suitcase developed a tear in the fabric. B&R would fix it or replace the bag at no charge, and ship it back to me -- but I had to get the bag to the closest authorized dealer... which of course is in Vancouver. Or more accurately, in Richmond, very near the airport!

We brought the empty suitcase with us as a carry-on. Researching online, I discovered there is a bag check in the Vancouver Airport. We left our camera, CPAP, and backpack there ($11 per item, but they only charged us for two, for no reason), and took the Skytrain into Vancouver. I even had transit cards from a previous trip. (More self-congratulations for remembering them and knowing where they were.) 

From the Skytrain, we figured out a long bus ride to the repair place -- or thought we did. We were on the bus for a very long time, and hey, this looks familiar... I think we've already been here... And we realized we had completed the entire bus route and were on a second loop! Oops! 

I chatted with the driver: it turns out we were on the wrong bus. Lesson learned: do not trust Google Maps to understand public transit. I should have checked the bus schedule maps myself. Google gave two different options, and neither were correct.

The bus driver was extremely helpful, and helped me figure out how to correct our mistake. It was totally fixable with one long walk. We had plenty of time, it wasn't raining, and we set off. The only inconvenience was the empty suitcase and a totebag full of snacks. With a long travel day ahead of us, I had packed a lot of healthy snacks from home, and we hadn't checked that bag. We walked for about 15-20 minutes, found the repair place, and left the suitcase. Amazing!

In which a sweet travel story makes me even happier

Then came the second part of my clever plan: dim sum! Richmond has a huge Chinese Canadian population, and I know it is loaded with dim sum places -- the "dumpling trail". In New York, dim sum was a huge treat, but in Mississauga, it was practically a staple. We love it and haven't had it at all since moving to the Island. I called an Uber and in a few minutes we were at one of the places that came up in my research. 

It was in a somewhat strange location, hidden away in what looked like the back of an industrial building. Plus it wasn't open yet. By this time we were very hungry and it felt like a long day and night were about to catch up with us in a big way. Should we wait for the place to open? How far were we from a Skytrain back to the airport? Should we Uber to another restaurant closer to the airport? 

We walked around the building, trying to figure out what to do in this seemingly deserted parking lot. And when we came back around to the entrance, there was a small crowd of people waiting for it to open! They were all Chinese, always a good sign. I asked a woman if there was a Skytrain nearby, and... we were right near a stop! Actually between two stops! What a laugh!

I said that was amazing, as we were on a layover from the airport. She gave me a huge smile and said, Are you tourists?? She seemed all ready to help. So sweet. I told her we live on Vancouver Island and are just on our way somewhere. A few seconds later, the restaurant opened. Several steamed pork buns and shrimp dumplings later, we were full and very happy. Absolutely perfect.

The Skytrain was literally down the street, and in five minutes we were back at the airport, claimed our items from the baggage, and headed to security, exactly 90 minutes before our flight. The only question is when I will stop congratulating myself.

welcome travel readers and a bit of a warning

1982-1994

Wmtc has some new readers who are interested in following my travels. I feel I should warn you new folks: it's a lot of words. Like, all text. 

We do love taking photos, but we wait til we get home, sort through all the pics, and post the keepers on Flickr. Then I usually go back to the blog posts and add links to the photos. It's old-school, but it works for me. 

This blog is my writing outlet. When I first started blogging in 2004, I was still writing professionally. This was my place to process and connect. Twenty-one years later... all my writing lives here. I would continue to write wmtc even if no one read it. But of course I love that people do. 

Fun fact: I've been keeping travel journals since my first trip to Europe, with my dear friend NN after we graduated university in 1982. I have paper journals from every trip I took from 1982 to 1994. After that, I started bringing a laptop and saving them digitally (and I still have those files, well backed-up). In 2004, I started keeping my travel diaries here. That's a lot of words!

Our trip actually starts locally tomorrow: we drive down to Comox, about three hours from here. We'll stay overnight for an early-morning flight on Tuesday, April 30 -- a very long travel day. I'll check in when we're on the other side of that.

the residential school denier who won't face voters -- and the party that stands by him

Aaron Gunn, the Conservative candidate for North Island-Powell River (my riding), is a bigot and a residential school denier. 

Pierre Poilievre stands by him, denying the denialism, claiming that the words Gunn said aren't really what he meant.

Gunn's residential school denialism tops a list of his other ignorant views, which include transphobia, admiration for Vladimir Putin, and support of Russia's invasion of Ukraine.

Gunn has cancelled or no-showed every all-candidates meeting since this story broke. The man clearly lacks the courage to face voters and talk about his views. 

* * * *

When Allan and I were looking into moving to Vancouver Island, one of the things that attracted us was local politics: the entire island was NDP, both provincially and federally.

Whatever the NDP is or is not, regardless what it is doing right and what it could do better, they are the party that most closely represents our values and our interests -- and what should be the interest of all Candian people, as opposed to corporations and industries. A place that votes orange in large numbers is going to be more comfortable for us than the southern Ontario ridings that flip back and forth between the Conservatives and the slightly less conservative Liberals.

Once here, I learned that the North Island has a history of flipping back and forth between Conservative and NDP representatives. The Conservatives pander to the Canadian equivalent of MAGA, while a high concentration of union members keep many of those voting for labour. And everyone hates the Liberals. 

I have been very concerned about this election for many reasons. 

Here in the North Island-Powell River riding, a much loved and well-respected Member of Parliament, Rachel Blaney, decided not to stand for re-election. The NDP candidate, Tanille Johnston, is articulate, passionate, and progressive. A young woman with Indigenous heritage, Tanille is a smart, sharp leader with the necessary courage and energy for the job.

Tanille has been a city councillor for Campbell River, but outside of that area, doesn't have a high profile or strong name recognition. 

There is so much racism in this area, an abundance of aggrieved white men listening to talk radio. As issues rise to the forefront -- Reconciliation, trans liberation, immigrants and newcomers -- their reactions are predictable. 

There is also an ignorant backlash against the provincial NDP that bleeds into the federal election. In the last provincial election, the riding flipped from orange to blue, our former and excellent NDP MLA being narrowly unseated by the Conservative candidate. 

Given all these factors, I've been dreading and assuming that we will soon have a Conservative MP.

Then came Aaron Gunn and the revelations of his disgusting denialism of the impact of "residential schools" -- more accurately called concentration camps -- and Canada's role in colonial genocide. Even the dismissive language he used -- "get off Twitter and read a book" -- reveals his unsuitability to be a Member of Parliament. Does the man think the impact of the residential schools is a social-media myth? I'd like to know the last time Aaron Gunn read a book, and Tom Flanagan's latest doesn't count.

Many mayors and councillors of North Island communities signed a letter calling for Gunn to withdraw from the race. Port Hardy Mayor Pat Corbett-Labatt has said:

With everything happening around the world -- especially the troubling events in the United States -- I felt compelled to use my voice by signing this letter.

I believe that all people are equal, regardless of gender, race, religion, mental health, appearance, wealth, or age. To me, this letter is a stand against both overt and subtle forms of racism.

As Desmond Tutu once said, 'If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of the mouse, and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.'

Chief Boby Joseph's words continue to echo in my mind: 'We Are One'. I truly hope that whichever Member of Parliament is elected shares that belief. 

[Quoted in local newspaper, no link available.]

With the federal election three days from now, blue lawn signs dominate our street. Pierre Poilievre says Gunn didn't mean what he very clearly said. And Gunn himself is in hiding.

So many of my neighbours either don't care, or they agree. 

greg palast: trump lost -- and our most hallowed media didn't tell us

Allan recently shared with me a sobering piece by Greg Palast. It illustrates so much of what is wrong with both the US's fake electoral system and the major media. Palast -- an impeccable researcher -- has run the numbers, and he reveals a simple truth: Trump lost. 

Millions of Americans have had their right to vote stolen through corrupt, antidemocratic, and racist lawmaking. Because guess what? Most victims of this vote-theft are Black.

As in Bush v. Gore in 2000 and in too many other miscarriages of Democracy, this election was determined by good old “vote suppression,” the polite term we use for shafting people of color out of their ballot. We used to call it Jim Crow.

Palast's analysis of this voter suppression may not tell us anything we didn't already know, but seeing the numbers is still stunning. And hearing so many Canadians ridicule Americans for electing this maniac, I feel compelled to share this as widely as I can.

Certainly this was not the first US election to be manipulated by the right wing, but it is certainly the most consequential.

Trump lost. That is, if all legal voters were allowed to vote, if all legal ballots were counted, Trump would have lost the states of Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania and Georgia. Vice-President Kamala Harris would have won the Presidency with 286 electoral votes.

And, if not for the mass purge of voters of color, if not for the mass disqualification of provisional and mail-in ballots, if not for the new mass “vigilante” challenges in swing states, Harris would have gained at least another 3,565,000 votes, topping Trump’s official popular vote tally by 1.2 million.

Stay with me and I’ll give you the means, methods and, most important, the key calculations.

But if you’re expecting a sexy story about Elon Musk messing with vote-counting software from outer space, sorry, you won’t get that here.

As in Bush v. Gore in 2000 and in too many other miscarriages of Democracy, this election was determined by good old “vote suppression,” the polite term we use for shafting people of color out of their ballot. We used to call it Jim Crow.

Go here to see the numbers and read the rest of the story.

Palast concludes:

Question: If these vote suppression laws—notorious example: Georgia’s SB 202—had no effect on election outcomes, then why did GOP legislators fight so hard to pass these laws? The answer is clear on the Brennan Center’s map of states that passed restrictive laws. It’s pretty much Trump’s victory map.

is my facebook timeout becoming permanent? thoughts on (maybe) leaving social media behind

I've been off social media for a few months now, and I'm unsure about whether or not I'll return. 

Mostly, it feels good. Another step towards the minimal. More focused. A bit liberating.

There's only one downside: long-distance friends. People who I'm unlikely to keep in touch with individually, but who I enjoy seeing in my feed, people who I try to support and who support me.

I'm reluctant to lose these connections. I'm also reluctant to re-start the inevitable slide into increasing time spent on social media. 

I'm starting to consider that there may be no way to balance these. That any balance I find will be fleeting. That social media is a mostly negative force in my life, and I should stop engaging with it.

* * * *

I stopped almost all my social media use some years back, limiting myself only to Facebook, and using that only minimally. But my time on Facebook gradually began creeping upwards, because that what it does. It's a highly addictive drug, and even light or moderate use can be self-defeating.

Shortly after the US election, my forays onto Facebook became really unpleasant. Friends were (very rightly) using that space to vent, express shock and frustration, and share information about the troubling and bizarre goings-on in the US. 

But I was coming to Facebook for an escape, or at least some respite, and the barrage of US/Trump news in my feed was anything but relaxing. I had already unfollowed or unfriended a lot of people from my old activist network in Toronto, who I felt were dangerously wrongheaded about the US election. I didn't want to shrink my feed any further. So I did that thing, I took a break. 

At first I experienced what most people on social media breaks attest to: I found myself reaching for my phone to post something, and had to consciously stop myself. 

I would ask myself, why do I want to share this? Is it something I need to talk about, or am I merely the habit of sharing these little bits of life? What I'm reading, what I'm watching, what I'm cooking. And so on. Small, superficial moments. Like any impulse that we're trying to get under control, I had to ride it out. Feel the feeling, stay still, don't act. Let it sit there, move on.

Past attempts

My current Facebook break caused me to re-visit my 2021 post about Cal Newport's book Digital Minimalism. Newport draws a distinction between using technology to enhance our lives or to further meaningful goals, and being addicted to our smartphones and social media. Being intentional about how we use any technology. It's the difference between having one glass of wine with a nice dinner, and daily drinking, glass after glass, out of habit. 

In that earlier post, I wrote:

We all have reasons that we use social media. Newport argues that although our reasons may be valid, and we do derive some value from social media use, the quality of our social media interactions is very low and adds little to our lives. When you drastically cut down your social media use, once you get accustomed to new habits, you may notice that you don't miss it. Whether you spend 20 minutes on Facebook or Instagram, or 40 minutes, or 60 minutes, you come away with the same low value. And for many people, those shallow, low-value interactions have gradually come to replace more meaningful interactions.

I revisited my own plan to reduce my social media use, also from that 2021 post. 

- I discovered  that some pieces of that plan are well integrated into my life. I have regularly schedule videochat dates with some long-distance friends. People really appreciated my initiating those, and they've become great habits. 

- I'm leaving my phone aside when watching movies or series. This can be challenging, as I get antsy if my hands have nothing to do. A notepad and a pen is a great antidote to that, or I have my phone, but only to play word games.

- The weekly screen-free night has fallen by the wayside. Allan and I have three evenings together, and we enjoy watching movies or series. I've been looking for ways to balance this. Sometimes the only screen-free time we spend together is at a restaurant, a road trip, or a dog walk. I'd like to return to a weekly music night.

- I'm no longer tracking my analog pursuits. One, I was tracking too many things and it became onerous. And two, I don't have time and energy for many or most of them. Several of them are waiting for retirement, which is still another six years away (at age 70). So I've put that aside.

- Most importantly, and inevitably, when it comes to the first point on the plan -- "only using social media at designated times and for a designated duration" -- I fell off the wagon. I reinstalled the Facebook app on my phone, and returned it to my home screen. Gradually my use crept upwards. 

Revisiting that 2021 post, I realized that I had tried the same thing a few years earlier. (This is why habit tracking is so useful!) In my review of Digital Minimalism, I quoted an earlier review of Tim Wu's excellent The Attention Merchants. From 2021, quoting myself in 20217:

I notice that I ended my review of The Attention Merchants with this:

By the time I finished the book, I challenged myself to take a holiday from social media and reclaim my own attention span. Some of you know that because of my health issues, I struggle with low concentration. Perhaps the effects are exaggerated for me... or perhaps not. I want to spend less time with little bits of information scrolling in front of my eyes. When it comes to information, I want quality over quantity. I'm experimenting with it now, but I'm not sure I'll ever go back.

Some of the changes I made did turn out be permanent (I said goodbye to Twitter), others did not (I re-installed the Facebook app on my phone). Now I'm assessing my current habits with Newport's advice in mind, and thinking about whether I want to go a few steps further.

Perhaps I will continue leaving then returning to social media. Or perhaps I will be one of those people who eschew social media use altogether. I know a few of those, and they live full lives without it.