A spill without comment
It made sense, at first. This is a big football day in Canada, and while surfing the channels, and avoiding the US variation, we spotted a familiar face in a SK jersey. The talking heads were discussing whatever pre-game hosts discuss, and we wondered how long before kickoff… the countdown clock in the lower corner told us more than we needed to know: 4:27:39 and counting, one second per tick. Wait; more than four hours to go! The idea of watching a channel during the whole afternoon just to be there for the game makes no sense at all.
I’ve packed a smaller camera bag, in anticipation of “getting a few pics” in the new house this week. No sense taking enough gear to shoot a major wedding. Next on my list of things to do: get some clothes into a bag, so we can jump in the cold car tomorrow morning before the bridges congest. I’d like (very much) to be well east before rush hour.
Another oil spill, in northern Alberta. Oddly, no comments about it on the CBC website. Zero. As if such a newsworthy moment wouldn’t inspire reaction. We’re bombarded by publicity right now, on behalf of a major pipeline group. “Life is wonderful, with rainbows and unicorns” publicity. The plan to run a tube or two under the St. Lawrence is “green”, and “for the good of all”. I call bluff…
Spilled dilbit (that’s the new buzzword for “diluted bitumen”) won’t be green or good. Try sludgy and brown-black. The fish won’t have any say, and bottled water isn’t all that another industry would have you believe. Am I turning into a NIMBY? You bet!
