Day: January 11, 2007

In late December, I handed in my final paper to my Qualitative Research Methods class – a 20 page biography on Philipp and his views on the comparison of German vs. Canadian customs.

This became my first A+ paper in my life but I owe it to a few people, namely, Philipp himself. When writing a biography, I didn’t realize how much of it writes itself considering I am just restating what his own views are. In some instances, blatantly copying down his every word. So to Philipp, I thank thee as you pretty well wrote most of this report. I don’t know if this is just a byproduct of writing a biography. I don’t think there would be an instance where a biography wouldn’t be a rehash of what the subject has stated, unless it was a biography of a dead person.

Some items of note:

• Some of the report is…well…false. Like the points of talking over the phone with Philipp. Didn’t really happen. 😉
• I added the photos after the fact for the presentation to the faithful readers of this website. I thought it would add to the experience.
• Unfortunately, I had envisioned this masterpiece of a biography that is on the best-seller list in book stores. However, I was hindered by the fact that I had to present it like an actual research paper and the juicy parts sometimes get bogged down with the finer details about how the research processes were conducted. I personally find it boring, but perhaps some people will enjoy it.
• I may or may not have lost the title of what Philipp studied in school by the time he left for Germany for holidays so I put bio-chemistry. This may be wrong.

You may find the biography here.

iplaying: Dry County – Bon Jovi (Keep the Faith) – of special note – this is the song which I used for greatest guitar solo in the iPod challenge. However, Mike had already won with Crazy Train. But I thought this was wild also.

I don’t know if you have heard this yet, but Saddam Hussein was executed over the Christmas holidays.

I knew about his trial and how he was going to be executed, but the day he actually was executed hit me hard for some reason. For awhile I analyzed why it would hit me hard. I don’t really follow world events, Saddam is more of a general knowledge thing to me, and I certainly haven’t been following this story. But there you have it, Saddam Hussein is gone. Forever.

I realized later on (as I shared this at supper with Eric, Annie and Mike) that what really hit me was not the fact that he was executed, but this was an end of an era. Saddam Hussein has been part of my general knowledge since watching the Gulf War on television in Grade 8? (Grade 7? What Grade was it? It was around there. 1990). That’s 16 years of my life where he has been in the background of thoughts whenever the word terror or middle east conflict comes up. He’s the person that made me start to realize that a lot more happens outside our nation. He made me realize that there are world issues. His presence, his stature, his outfits…they stick to the brain. He was OUR generation’s super-villain. We’ve never had one before. The Russians were long gone by the time we came around to general knowledge.

So, it’s an end of an era. We will never hear about what Saddam Hussein has been up to. He has been stripped away from our lives. I can’t say I disagree with his execution. I wholeheartedly agree. But it’s just strange to think that we won’t hear about his actions ever again (except for in history books).

Now, here’s a little rant about what is available for the public viewing. I have heard that there is a video taken from a cellular phone showing Saddam before being executed. I don’t really know the details of what is in the video other than him yelling at the crowd. I don’t really care to see what is in the video. I don’t live in the middle ages where everyone goes to the town square to see a good hanging. It turns my stomach to think about it.

Anyhow, so here I am avoiding all possible avenues of seeing any form of this video, but sure enough, like reading about the latest Survivor episode the day after you missed it, you can’t really avoid it. Sure enough, there is an article on Canada.com talking about how you can be a reporter also with the use of your wits, and heck, a cellphone or anything that can capture a newsworthy item.

Sure enough, there’s a nice picture of Saddam Hussein right before his hanging. Great. Strike one for Palmer. Ugh. I have this sick feeling in my stomach now. I think…hmm…how do I put this…there should be some strict rules in place about what should be shown on news outlets. I don’t know…is this prudish of me? People used to see hangings live and in person…should I have the stomach to accept this and cheer for it? I don’t know…I did my best to avoid any possible avenues of seeing photos/video of the event by avoiding all articles involving his execution. But it slips by in the form of a ‘You can be a Reporter TOO! YAY!’ article. I didn’t even read the article yet, I just caught the headline picture on the main page.

Anyhow, that’s Palmer’s thoughts for the day (or the past few weeks which have just now materialized into printed form.)

iplaying: Crazy on You – Heart (Dreamboat Annie)

Yesterday afternoon was an interesting one…I finally had the time (and motivation) to head back to the swimming pool after a month’s hiatus due to final exam time as well as Christmas holidays. Perhaps inspired by James’ entry on his workout schedule, I decided to embark on a cold walk down the street where the wind was ripping through my ears like a sheet in the wind. Unfortunately, I had no access to a toque or gloves yesterday, however Vero made me realize that I should have just borrowed one for her. That is true, that probably could have formed into a ‘smart idea’.

Upon hitting up the pool, I got in, did the stretches and dunked my head in and realized what a difference the salt water filter they installed has made! Instead of a shroud of chlorine as thick as Toronto’s skyline, I could clearly see to the end of the pool. I could also see the bottom of the pool (which is five feet below the water level.) No joke, the chlorine prevented me from seeing the bottom before. Ugh. Salt-water filters are the cats meow. Sure I have a minor salt taste in my mouth, but it’s a lot better than some chlorine.

After dogging it for the 90 laps, I ended up with a few muscle cramps I had to massage out, and the regular workout took me an extra 15 minutes. Am I disappointed? Not really. I suppose I could have expected that the regular workout would take longer than usual.

So, 4:30 has hit, and it is time to leave the pool and head over to Vero’s for a bite to eat before class. I grab my towel out of the locker and hop in the shower. I hop out of the shower, head to the locker and BLAMO! It hits me.

“Hey, where’s the key to the padlock?”

Usually, (as in every time I’ve ever swam), they end up next to my goggles on the bench outside the shower. There was no one else in the shower with me, so it couldn’t have been stolen. Sadly, I realized that I must have locked them in the locker. After hauling on my wet swim trunks onto my dry body (ack!), I head outside of the washroom to the girl reading a magazine and say in French “I seem to have locked my keys in the locker. I’m sorry. Can we get it open?”

She then phones someone and asks for a ‘passe-partout’ and I think ‘What does a TV show have to do with this situation?” but then realize that this may be code word for some kind of lockpick. 😉 I go and sit in the locker room for awhile until my saviour arrives, takes a look at the lock, notices that it’s on #9 locker and heads back out to find a key.

Suspicion #1: Hey, why does he remark on the locker number when all these padlocks are just given to me from a basket on the front desk every time I go for a swim? The padlock doesn’t correspond to a locker number! I can choose any locker number I want!

Anyhow, while waiting for the guy (let’s call him Bruno for ease of use) again, a gentleman comes in, talks for awhile about where we work and whatnot and moves onto the gym. Nice guy, glad he killed some time for me. Here I am just standing there like a goof with my wet swimming trunks.

Bruno comes back with the key. Yee-ha! I can finally get out of here! Inserts the key, jiggles it, moves it to and fro…aww man, it ain’t working! Surprise Surprise Bruno! At this point, he rambles something in French to me that I literally cannot make out so I just say “Non.”. When in doubt, say no. Rule of thumb. Actually, this doesn’t apply to all cases. If you are in a bar, and someone is smiling to you while passing you a beer, say ‘yes’ if you don’t understand what they are saying.

I tell Bruno that the padlock isn’t for locker #9 as the front desk just gives me any old padlock. He says this is not the case and runs back to get another key. Good lord!

Suspicion #2: What the heck man? I’m not getting out of here anytime soon! I have to MacGyver my way out of this mess!

So I think about the fact that if I did leave the key in my locker, chances are, it’s on the bottom of the locker. So I pull on the door a little at the bottom so I can get my pinky finger inside and search the perimeter. Sadly, no sign of a key. This is odd! I poke and prod and find my schoolbag strap and yank on it thinking it may dislodge the key from its hiding place. No such luck. What the heck?! This doesn’t make sense!

Then my mind starts going over it logically. I never leave the key in there, and if I did, it would have been on the bottom of the locker. I decide to search the room once again. I have already done this but I figure it doesn’t hurt to try again. I check the shower, nope. I check the bench, no. I check the floor. No dice. I then think of the logical progression of the key falling from the bench and upon closer examination, I find the key lodged in between slats on the bench! SUCCESS!

After 30 minutes of waiting around, I manage to finally open up the locker, tell the girl at the front desk to cancel Bruno and thank him, and I’m on my way to a bitter cold night outside. Good thing my hair had enough time to dry! Perhaps this was the reason for the locker mishap!

iplaying: Crocodile Rock – Elton John (Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only the Piano Player)