I’ve tinkered with being self-employed before. When I was working at Memorial University just after finishing my degrees a friend of mine and I formed a company to do side work (called DigitalRnD). Later in life I took side projects and side contracts here and there. However, I was always aware of where my next pay check was coming from. Not so much anymore. I am truly out in the cold wilderness of the unknown.

Nowadays, people keep asking me, “what the heck are you up to?”

My parents are wondering whether I have gone insane.

The parents of my friends are wondering if I have gone insane.

Can Dups feed himself? Is he okay? Oh heck, screw Dups, how’s his long suffering cat doing?

Let me put the rumours to an end. I am not selling my body on the streets of Montreal. But yes, I recently decided it was time to see what the hell all this “entrepreneurial” spirit is all about.

Now admittedly, I might actually be insane but really is that a surprise to anyone?

So let me answer the question as to what the heck I’m actually doing.

First and foremost, I’m taking on the challenge of leading a startup through its paces into the limelight. I wish I could get into exactly what it’s all about, but I can’t just yet. Suffice it to say it should be a bit of fun no matter which direction it goes in. If you have a pile of money or know some interesting tech-related investors get in touch with me and we’ll talk about Non-Disclosures and stuff like that.

Secondly, I want to take on numerous projects (programming, writing, photography and personal), that I have always wanted to do. Some of these involve trying to pay my way through some freelancing, some consulting and perhaps even some photography. Hopefully I’ve learned one or two things in life that might be of interest to someone out there and they might actually be willing to pay me for that knowledge and some hard work. The name of that little venture, I’ll divulge in the next few weeks, I’m just getting some logos finished for now.

Thirdly, I want to work on a couple of software projects that I’ve wanted to open source for years. This will also be done as part of the second thing for which I’m working on logos, so more details to come.

All this comes at a cost. It’s not a small one either. It means less of having what I want and doing a lot more with less. It means staring down that precipice of the unknown and having no choice but to downclimb with no idea of how or what’s actually below and to top it all off, there’s no sense of security in any part of the climb.

It’s scary and exciting all at the same time. It’s the same feeling I have when travelling and coming to a place and not knowing where I’m going to sleep, just magnified a few more times

And this is where my most awesome friends come in. I often say how incredible my friends are. As I set down this path, the most amazing thing to me is how supportive all my friends are being and how helpful. I know that there will be days to come which will make me weep with frustration and I know that I’ll have friends who will stand by me on those days. No matter, success or fail, it’s the human spirit and kindness that truly make a difference in the world.

I hope this answers those questions about “what the heck am I up to?”

(Editors Note: Rocky and Bullwinkle are the slippers we have bought Niall Brown and are in the process of delivering to St. John’s NL. Having languished in a souvenir store in Tadoussac, QC, they have decided to take up the story of the journey across the North Coast of Quebec, Labrador and Newfoundland.)

Bullwinkle: Master Niall, it is with great pleasure that I report to you that your great friends and wonderful people have survived the night of the Great Storm.

Rocky: Oh god, if this gets any more cloying I’m going to puke my felt guts out.

Bullwinkle: Shut it Rocky, this is my story, go annoy someone else. I can’t believe the creators chose you to be the right foot. I hope Niall is left-handed, he will understand my pain.

Rocky: BLARGH!

Bullwinlkle: Ignore him oh gracious Niall. So let’s see, the honoured hosts Dups and Mike woke from a rather sleepless night at the Auberge and fled from the scene as fast as was humanly possible into the cold rain-driven Sept-Iles. Of course they insisted on showing us the sights including taking a photo of us at the Sept-Iles-Labrador City Train station…

Rocky: They got my butt wet…

Bullwinkle: Then we headed due east with only a major stop at the Chute Manitou just west of Sept Iles for a quick walk down to the major falls. Time for his holiness Dups to test his boots and his fantasticness Mike to clamber as close to the falls as possible. Of course they didn’t take us with them but we heard about it when they got back.

Rocky: “Holiness?!”, “Fantasticness?!” if you are more obsequious you might rupture that spleen bending over.

Bullwinkle: From there they headed to Longue-Pointe-de-Mingan where we would all be camping on the beach. At no point did the sun shine through. Our campers extraordinaire decided to camp next to the beach and even oriented the tent in a such a way that any driving wind from the ocean would result inthe tent staying up. With the cloudy, miserable and rainy weather they went to Havre St-Pierre to book a cruise around the National Park Reserve of the Islands of the Minganie for next morning and see the town that their friend Genevieve’s family was from.

Rocky: No doubt a female version of these clueless gits.

Bullwinkle: With a cruise booked, they went in search of a can opener. Once they got themselves understood for what they were looking for, they searched Havre-St-Pierre and finally bought the most expensive can-opener ever in their glorious history.

Rocky: HAHAHA and they call themselves campers

Bullwinkle: Hush it. So then they headed back to camp and cooked a fine meal of vegetable rice, fresh scallops and broccoli in mushroom sauce, finished with some chocolate cake.

Rocky: I’ll give them that they can stuff themselves tastefully. All the more to feed the moose in Newfoundland…

Bullwinkle: As the rain started coming and the water hissed on the burning embers of their fire (Rocky: Ooooh look you poet) they decided to go to sleep. In the middle of the night the wind picked up to the most annoying gusts and from a completely unexpected direction whereupon the tent poles folded in upon themselves and fell onto Dups. Dups then proceeded to prop up the tent with his hands while both him and Mike were laughing uproariously. Fortunately and despite the sudden leak that sprang up inside the tent the great and wonderful transporters had a wonderful sleep.

Rocky: OH MY GOD. YOU ARE SUCH A DITZ.

Rocky: Okay, let me introduce myself, I’m the right foot of a pair. Some have called me the brainy one, some have called me the pretty one, in your case just realize that I am *always* right.

Bullwinkle: Hey Rocky, I’m not sure I like being left out in the cold here, without me there would be no you.

Rocky: Oh shut up Bullwinkle. Okay so these pair o doofuses…

Bullwinkle: I’d like to think of them as “saviours” if you will…

Rocky: Yes two bloody great saviours they are, I’m think from the frying pan into the fire. So these two doofuses, Dups and Mike, stole us out of a shop in Tadoussac, Quebec and are taking us to some greater doofus by the name of Niall, in Newfoundland of all bloody places…

Bullwinkle: ROCKY! Shut it, that is our future master you are talking about, be kind… I do not want to be put into a shredder…

Rocky: That great dork better not shred me, I’ll show his right foot what’s coming if he does, anyway so back to the story. So these guys come take us away and then promptly take us camping… CAMPING?! CAMPING?! I am used to much more creature comforts than CAMPING!!! If that Niall fellow takes us camping, why I’ll…

Bullwinkle: Hey they took photos of us at the campsite, come on, Rocky, have a heart.

Rocky: Then early this morning they took us to see the Sand Dunes of Tadoussac. I thought my felt antlers were going to be ripped apart by the hot sand flying in my face, and they insisted on taking pictures of us. Oh my poor face, now now, don’t get defensive Bullwinkle, it’s not like you have a good looking face… I have to protect mine.

Bullwinkle: Sniff.

Rocky: From there after a brief stop in Les Bergeronnes (now there was a Cafe, the Mer et Monde, now that could have been a nice home for me, Niall, my “master” you better make good coffee) and then we drove through to Baie Comeau. Of course they had to have a brief stop near Le Colombier to have lunch and cook lentils of some such. If they had not stopped we could have made it much faster and avoided the rain. Of course they also have to stop off at a “scenic” view only to discover an “art” installation with pink dinosaurs and obelisks. I would rather have drowned.

Bullwinkle: Rocky, I am so going to pull your your antlers off.

Rocky: And I’m going to shove your button eyes into my butt. Okay So they visit some Glacier exposition in Baie Comeau then promptly try to drive around on a gravel road to nowhere, *I* could have told them how stupid that was. All to find some valley of the seashells which the company had the good thought to hideaway from these doofuses. And then they drove to Sept-Iles.

Bullwinkle: Ooh Rocky Rocky, tell them about Dixieland!

Rocky: Oh right. Those bloody doofuses. I’m going to lose track of that word if I keep using it. Well they read the restaurants available in Port Cartier and come upon four. So they take this one called Dixieland. What the fuck were they expecting anyway? It’s basically a Mary Brown knock off. I’m glad that idiot Dups got *something* off the menu before driving us into that heavy rain. Anyway, the two have gone off into this Auberge and left us on the street in the car… Niall you better treat us better or I’m… I’m…

Bullwinkle: Oh master Niall, I will soothe and caress your left foot and make you feel very very happy. And tomorrow, *I* will write to you master, not that ass Rocky!

Before we left Montreal our good friend Rebecca told us that Niall Brown had taken a spill on his mother’s hardwood floors in St. John’s. Rebecca was toying with the idea of mailing him his slippers. Mike and I were aghast at the thought of our dear friend slip sliding his way through the house and vowed to bring him his slippers.

To that end we have purchased Niall a pair of slippers fit for a king.

We have now driven the 3 hours or so to Tadoussac, Quebec, the first trading post in Quebec between the Europeans and the Aboriginals (the Montagnais or the Innu). In a shop we rescued Rocky and Bullwinkle. They were most appreciative of us snatching them away from the clutches of the souvenir store that they were languishing in. Rocky is on the right and Bullwinkle on the left.

Niall, we are bringing Rocky and Bullwinkle to you.

For those that don’t know it, I am now a self-employed individual with no income. And yet, somehow I seem to be eating the most amazing food. If this is what being unemployed and being a vagabond is like, I may never go back to stable employment.

Of course much of this is due to the contents of Anne-Marie and Jerome’s fridge in Quebec City. So let me describe to you the gastronomic delights of Quebec, but first a word on my so-called vegetarianism. I am not a vegetarian. I am however, incredibly against farms and how they treat animals. I am against the chemicals and the asinine, inhumane things we do to our food supply. Hence I eat animals which are not farmed, hunted or otherwise treated as all living things should be. I am not vegetarian.

Friday night I created something that Anne-Marie and Jerome called “Touski”, an expression for all the left-overs in the fridge combined.

Dups Touski de Quebec

Fry red kidney beans, onion and pickled beetroot in some cumin, turmeric and chilli with sticky jasmine rice and homemade thai green chilly.

Later that night Jerome brought home Quebec “Sweet Breads” which are not breads at all but French delights of the animal kingdom, including baby pigeon (squab) and the thymus glands of calves. Quite interesting and quite tasty, and a true “cultural experience”

Day 2 was a day of eating broken up by a quick dip in the Montmerrency on a hot summer day. Mike spent much of his time trying to be Tarzan and jumping into the river from a rope. I enjoyed the soothing cool waters with 10-month old Madeleine.

For supper…

Dups Deer and Beetroot Special de Quebec

Ground deer fried in onion and paprika with home-made roasted red pepper sauce

Fry cut asparagus, with onion and Thai green chili into Chinese noodles (not too soft)

Pickled Beetroot fried into home-made fruit jam with some hot sauce

Yes so far we are eating well.

I must admit that I love taking trains. They may take a few hours but generally speaking the scenery flies past and gives one the ability to reflect on life and the universe while hopefully meet some interesting people. Thanksgiving Thursday was my first train in the United States and it did not start well. The Amtrak Acela Express from Boston to New York which I was to meet in Providence decided that it also wanted Thanksgiving Thursday off. Apparently the train engine failed and had to crawl along at a rather plodding 30 miles an hour. Meanwhile, in Providence they cancelled that train and put me on another. It’s a good thing that I had all day to get to New York.

Finally I did get on the train and as we passed by wonderful New England scenery it certainly did not appear to be heading for one of the largest cities on the planet. However, just as I was getting used to the seacoast with a darkening of the skies as if on cue, the plants were replaced by girders of steel and grim reminders of urban decay as we approached New York from the north.

The goals for the day were to settle into the Hostel that had been suggested to me by my high school friend Tiffany’s husband Steve who just happens to work for Rough Guides (don’t I feel guilty that I chose the Lonely Planet for Ecuador!). I knew that maybe this would be an interesting stay when even the cab driver was confused as to why I was getting out in front of this non-descript building on Bowery street. I assured him that this was indeed the place: The White House Hotel of New York. Let me tell you that you definitely get what you pay for.

On my previous trip to NYC under the tab of my employer, Sun Microsystems, we stayed in what was supposed to be a mid-range hotel in Manhatten. We paid a couple hundred and the room was about 10ft by 12ft including the bathroom. Quite small in the grand scheme of hotels. For $30 the rooms at The White House are barely 6ft by 4ft. Oh and there are no ceilings on the roofs of the “cells”. Let’s just say that sound travels.

Having said that, the place certainly is charming, well-situated and clean, and I would recommend them too! Ear plugs for sleeping are advised though!

After settling in quickly I headed to uptown Manhatten to see Grand Central station, have a peek at the Empire State Building at night, oggle at Times Square and finally meet up with Tiffany, Steve and Tiffany’s friend Mary from Hong Kong. I hadn’t seen Tiffany in fourteen years so there was definitely some catching up to do. This was helped along admirably by a couple of tart mojitos before we headed for a one-of-a-kind dining experience at a place called P*ong. Let me just say this was clearly one of the better meals I have ever had: several delectably fantastic courses paired incredibly with a selection of wines and port. Certainly it will be a meal to think about when I am climbing high in Ecuador.

What next? Naturally, when in America, do as the Americans.

Supper was followed by rather stuffed and sated walk up seventh avenue to the Apple Store for the Black Friday (the day in the US when all the shops have sales and open at ridiculously early hours) sales event at the 24-hour Apple Store on trendy fifth avenue. We made a couple of requisite stops at Rockefeller Center and gawked at the awesome St. Patrick’s Church before joining the thousand or so people in line at the Apple Store. There was a massive cheer as the doors opened at exactly midnight and we all rushed in to the cheers of the Apple Store employees.

Apple sure knows how to do things right.

While I escaped without being lured by the iPod touch, the group of us managed to abscond with a couple of laptops, an iPod nano and a few other accessories. Yes, global economic downturn perhaps, but not at the Apple Store.

What more does one want for a day of Americana than to be feted and dined in New York, stay at the White House, enjoy the company of old and new friends and top it all off with the lavish consumerism that defines a majority of the United States?

I headed back to sleep in my monk-like cell.  Of course later all I could think of was how to lynch the idiots next to me who decided that 3am was a delightful time to have a loudly whispered conversation in a room with no ceiling. I actually had to do something I had not done since sleeping in cheap motel rooms with paper-thin walls… I banged on the wall.

“Never go anywhere without emergency rations, like candy bars,fruit, and crackers in your pockets; that way you won’t starve if someone locks you in a secret room.” — The Hardy Boys’ Guide to Life, The Secret Panel

So here we are, another great adventure lies before me. This time it is to discover the land of Ecuador in South America. As always my plan is simple. Survive in a country with a different language and culture, climb something really high so I can get a good look at the land and then wander around till someone ships me back to Canada. Simple.

Of course, I couldn’t simply get on a flight to Quito from Montreal. That would be too easy.

The plan is to drive to Rhode Island, stay with my high school friend (from Hong Kong) Sung and then take the train to New York and see another high school friend, Tiffany. Finally I will get on a flight to Quito from New York City.

Anyone who knows me will likely tell you my plans tend to always go, well, slightly astray towards the bizarre. Already I’ve realized that I will be arriving in New York City at Penn Station right in the middle of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade… this obviously has all the hallmarks of a small disaster. Niall and Rebecca suggested I just put my luggage on the side of a street and sit on them till the streets of Manhattan clear up.

I’m not entirely sure how that will go over in NYC.

So Saturday I drove away from Montreal after a hearty breakfast at Ye Olde Orchard on Prince Arthur with dear friends. Thanks greatly to the bartender who kindly brewed us a couple pots of Ethopian coffee that Janius kindly schlepped all the way over. I was buzzing by the time I left.

Which was probably a good thing. After following no more than four detours, two barricades and a partridge in a pear tree to get out of Montreal and off the island (a small miracle I figured), I headed for the Vermont border with a darkening horizon. Sure enough by the time I hit Burlington the snow had picked up and driving was quite uncomfortable to say the least. I wasn’t so much concerned about my car, I have new winter tires and I wasn’t pushing it, but I’m sure the sedan that passed me whose back end was distinctly trying to run away from the front, may not have been as well prepared.

Regardless, I made it to Rhode Island, settled into Sung and Liz’s place, woke up with kids and went to hang out in Chuck E Cheeses for a birthday party. Ah the life of parents There is something rather odd that we find people dressed up as giant rodents to be fun, cute and cuddly. However, Uncle Dups did his best to win tickets from the game machines so that we could reward the kids. Life is so difficult!

I must admit so far this has a very similar feel to my last great adventure when I travelled from London through to Shanghai. Then I started my journey in London with Tushar and his family.

Now I must be away, Uncle Dups is required to run around and play and have balls thrown at him. It is after all an Uncle Dups’ duty.

Oh, you might have noticed the quotation at the top. My friends Iwona and Derek gave me a small book called the Hardy Boys’ Guide to Life. I have decided that I should follow the guide strictly during this adventure. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh Craig, have you decided to run another betting pool as to my demise?

It’s been a pretty busy weekend.

As some of you may have read elsewhere or perhaps seen on Facebook and other such places, I’ve switched jobs at Sun Microsystems and have taken on the task of being one of MySQL’s Community Relations Managers. This of course means that I’m heading off to do some “on-the-job” training in Colombus, Ohio then presentations in New York City, then by train to Baltimore and finally attending Open SQL Camp in Charlottesville, Virginia before leaving the States from Washington, DC. Yup, it’s been pretty busy planning for that…

On top of all that, some of you may also know that I’m heading to Ecuador for all of December. And this is where my weekend became really busy. My friends, Mike, Janius and Ed climbed Mt. Cotopaxi in Ecuador (2007) and discovered some worthwhile causes care of Javier Herrera a mountain guide in Quito. Through Javier  I learned of a school that needs clothes for 5-12 year-olds so we set about trying to either get clothes or money towards clothes for these children since it was an opportunity for me to hand deliver said goods.

Someone (I’d like to claim me, but I might have been inebriated) came up with idea that I could co-opt my traditional Christmas dinners for my friends into a fundraising activity. Within a week, invites went out to everyone I knew in Montreal and suddenly I was faced with the task of cooking for 30 or more people on Saturday. For the record we raised $505 through the event. Thanks to all who donated and/or attended. Your generousity is greatly appreciated.

Now why am I writing all this after the fact (naturally someone is saying “humpf, he never invited me, the jerk”). Well by some measure of luck, the food I cooked came out okay. Some part of the credit has to go to my brother Miuru who made sure I had the correct recipe for the Sri Lankan cutlets which were a giant hit at the dinner amongst the other dishes that I managed to concoct. It was also the dish that took the longest to produce (1.5 hours). So I thought I’d write up the recipe, sadly I didn’t take any photos so maybe one day I’ll actually record photos and better instructions. By the way, I don’t measure anything so I’m sorry to say I have no idea the amounts of spices etc. please think of this as cooking by experimentation and taste and use spices as necessary.

Sri Lankan Cutlets

Ingredients:

Whole Potatoes
Sardines (Portuguese canned sardines), you can omit/use alternative
1 bunch of cut green onion or 1/2 onion
Eggs

1. Boil the potatoes in a pot. Once fully boiled, cool and remove the skin.
2. In another pot, add oil, some fenugreek seeds, a clove of garlic, the 1/2 onion, sardines and fry with spices (not very helpful considering, I’m not sure about the exact spices but I would imagine a mixture of, turmeric, coriander, cumin, chilli powder would work well, or go to an indian/sri lankan store and buy some roasted curry powder). Add salt and pepper as necessary. Get the sardines tasty (oh fantastically subjective recipe).
3. Add in the the potatoes and mash it altogether.
4. Seperate the yolk from the egg white.
5. Once the consistency of the potatoes/sardines is nice and gooey (should be still a bit dry), add the egg yolk and mix to create the internals of the cutlet. Should be nice and thick, pasty like.
6. If you cannot buy breadcrumbs, I suggest going over to Mike’s and using his blender, which is what he did to create whole wheat bread crumbs by blending toasted bread. Worked like a charm.
7. Roll the inside of the cutlet into a ball with your palms, dip in the egg white and then into the breadcrumbs. You may need to roll again to get a nice even texture of crumbs around the cutlet.
8. Repeat 7 until all cutlets are done.
9. Fire up a deep pan of oil or a deep fryer. Get the oil nice and hot. Dip the cutlets into the oil and fry until brown outside.
10. Eat. Or serve and let others eat. Or hide and just eat by yourself in a corner. Or hide the cutlets and eat the corner. Or corner the cutlets and cut the mustard.

If you follow the above and it works, please send me a picture. If the above does not work or creates a hazardous waste, please inform the authorities. If you produce the above and end up with something alcoholic, I suggest reporting yourself to the nearest religion and claim the ability to turn spice into wine. You will make a fortune.

In the last 24 hours I have been left speechless twice. Once was watching several scenes of Vertical Limit. One of the worst mountaineering movies ever made. Now, granted, I watched this before I really got into Mountaineering when it came out in 2000. I may have even paid good money to go see the movie when I was back home to St. John’s that Christmas. Well, that’s several dollars I will never get back I’m sure.

This weekend my friend Gen decided that she needed to subject all of us to frighteningly bad mountain movies in preparation for an upcoming mountain film festival in Montreal: Festival International de Film D’aventure de Montrea (FIFAM). Mike and I happened to be out trundling around Montreal when I discovered Vertical Limit in the $5 bin of a DVD store. Well needless to say, it had to be bought. Of course I forced Mike to proudly carry it to his house and house it in his video collection. Just remember kids, if someone gives you nitro and asks you to take it up a horribly large high altitude mountain, just say no. But if you must, remember that sunshine might make it go boom.

The second bit of speechlessness is due to the passing of Rudy Ray Moore. Now, I know many of you have no clue as to who I am talking about. There was a time in my life when my friends and I were very much enamoured by the Blaxploitation films of the 1970s. Heck, I even started up the Memorial University Shaft Society (still appears as a valid society on this page about MUN), tried to film a Shaft fan movie and we scoured St. John’s, Newfoundland for the very best Blaxploitation could offer. Rudy Ray Moore was at the top of the pile. Rudy Ray Moore inspired the rap genre and created such classics as, Dolomite, Dolomite: The Human Tornado and The Avenging Disco Godfather. The only movie that we searched high and low and never found was Petey Wheatstraw, the Devil’s Son in Law.

Well, today at the grand old age of 81 and due to complications of diabetes, Rudy Ray Moore has gone on to the grand disco in the sky. Thanks for the memories.

“I’m gonna let ‘em know that Dolemite is back on the scene! I’m gonna let ‘em know that Dolemite is my name, and fuckin’ up motha fuckas is my game!”

So that’s it. I’m almost through another house move. My 17th move involving permanent living dwellings since I was brought into this world.

Now you may say, perhaps knowing my history that that’s a lot, or maybe you’re coming to the strange conclusion that myself and two of my friends came to that, in reality, despite the exotic nature of my living places, I haven’t actually moved all that much! What you say? Seventeen? Well, when we started counting, amongst the three of us, the non-Canadian-born, somewhat “world citizen”-before-Canada has actually had the least postal changes.

I’m almost tempted to take that up as a sort of challenge to see if Canada Post or Canada Revenue will start thinking of me as some kind of fugitive.

Today’s move was spectacularly easy and fun. I had folks from all walks of life with friendship connections that truly are getting mangled and hard to figure out. With a bit of organization we had my entire apartment in my basement in an hour or so, packed in a truck within twenty minutes and out of the truck in the busy “Plateau” area of Montreal within fourty-five minutes (quite probably less). All my worldly posessions are in one tiny room of my new apartment.

Shortly after the move, I tempted fate and Montreal traffic cops and left the truck sitting in a reserved parking area while we all headed for beers at the neighbourhood pub.

However, oddly, I’m actually homeless. Due to the wonders of Quebec Leases which mostly come due on July 1, I won’t actually be staying over at my new apartment till then. I am instead staying at Mike’s whose wonderful Montreal Hotel for Wayward Newfoundlanders has attracted not only myself but the equally homeless Niall and Rebecca.

In trying to explain Quebec “Moving Day” to my father this morning, he kind of stammered, “isn’t that kind of a really stupid idea?”

Again thanks to (in no order): Niall, Rebecca, Phil Dawe, Isabelle, Phil DeRosa, Sabrina, Sylvie, Morgan, Michael, Nithum, Damien, Liam, Erin, you all have my eternal gratitude for lifting my posessions. And yet again I wonder… how do I collect so much crap!?!?!