Tragically Hip Over The Years

The Tragically HipAs a long time metal head from the 1970’s I used to take a lot of flack from my buddies over some of my choices in music. My love for art rock was tolerated and why not seeing as a great many of the hard core metal bands would often cite bands like Rush, Yes and Genesis as major influences in their own musical journeys to greatness. My interest in Rock Fusion Jazz was politely ignored for fear of bringing up the subject would result in a rather lengthy session of Spyro Gyra and Return to Forever’s The Romantic Warrior.

But of all the hassles I received over the years for my musical choices I think I got the most grief from being an early adopter of The Tragically Hip music. I would get comments like “What the hell do you want to go see them for and do a bunch of pogo-ing?” For those of you who don’t know the term pogo-ing refers to standing in one place and bouncing to the beat of the music. Let me tell you that The Tragically Hip was a great band to go pogo-ing to, I can’t even count how many times I saw this great band in their early years at some really small venues here in Vancouver.

Now I wasn’t a big fan of their first album but their second album “Up To Here” is a classic with a lot of great songs like “Blow at High Dough”, “New Orleans Is Sinking”, and “38 Years Old” which are radio staples here in Canada with their thoughtful and easy to sing along with lyrics. Who can resist singing “he’s 38 years old and never kissed a girl” when the chorus rounds to that easy to identify with phrase or when the chorus bops around to “New Orleans is sinking, man, and I don’t want to swim?” Nobody with skip in their step that I know of.

Around the time “Up To Here” came out a friend of mine went on a trip to Australia and being a big music fan he went in to a record store to check out the local Aussie scene. While browsing the stacks he asked the store attendants if they had ever heard of the Tragically Hip and not surprisingly, they had not. Being the proud Canadian that he was he pulled out one of those new fangled CD recordings and they played it in its entirety in the shop and made some instant early down under fans for our little bit of Canadiana. As I type this “Boots or Hearts” started playing and it is not possible to avoid snapping your fingers to this great break up song. “Fingers and toes, fingers and toes. Forty things we share. Forty-one if you include, the fact that we don’t care”

I recall listening to the legendary band manager Bruce Allen radio show one evening back in the 80’s where he was once again getting the gears from a caller about how “he blew it when he passed on taking on The Tragically Hip as clients”. I will always remember him saying that listening to their music was like listening to paint dry which was an interesting spin on the idiom but it sure did lower my opinion of Bruce Allen. Of course my opinion of Bruce Allen was never that high to begin with due in large part to Canadian radio icon Jack Webster’s total dislike for Mr. Bruce Allen. Jack Webster introduced my grandmother to her last great relationship but that is a different story for another time perhaps. No Bruce Allen just couldn’t be that bright seeing as he refused to acknowledge the great lyrical work of Gordon Downie and lacked the character to admit he was wrong.

The last time I saw the Tragically Hip was when they were headlining the 1991 New Year’s celebration “Under The Sails” at the new conference center on the waterfront. The show was fantastic with lots of pogo-ing going on. I recall my spirits being lifted a little as my ass kept getting pinched by a couple of shy gals who would pogo out of the crowd to grab a handful of butt cheeks before melting back into the crowd before I could catch them in the act. I never did find out who they were but it wouldn’t have mattered too much as I was heart broken at that time and no amount of anonymous sex would have righted my mood completely. It was a surreal evening to be sure that marked a strange point in my life with memories that linger to this day. I still have the commemorative champagne flutes from that night, they sit high upon my mantle as they always have. Of course I also have the Tragically Hip to remind me of the night that my youthful pursuits ended. But that is an even longer story and one.

Gordon Downie I was so sorry to hear about your medical problems and I shall be thinking of you, your family, friends and bandmates in the days ahead. Your poetry has always spoken to me and it always will regardless of how anybody else feels about it. Thanks for the memories, bitter or sweet, that accompany your words when the music plays on as it surely will.

Oh horrors of horrors – game day from hell

OK for those of you who know me know that a select group of friends and I get together on a regular bases, for decades actually, to play a game I created. The games we play are part of a yearly tournament for the Expletive Award. The trophy is very unique and the championship carries some bragging rights within certain circles. Today was a tournament day and it was brutal.

First game was fairly typical, lasting about a buck thirty seven with me scoring double digit points. One person was taken out and my son eventually won the game with more points than usual with his victory by liberation. A victory by liberation is a fairly prestigious win due to the conditions of capturing an opponent’s piece that is made up of your captured pieces. Not easy to do and as such this kind of win is not common, good on Luke for taking the first game with a very respectable score.

The second game was a quick one resulting in a victory with a 9 point time bonus given to Lorne by winning this one in fifty one minutes. This was not a good showing for me as I only scored five points. The only saving grace was that the other players scored poorly as well. Lorne made up some ground on me in this one for sure but not Luke.

Game number three was a good game with everybody playing at their highest level, no one holding clear advantage across many exchanges. Early in the game Lorne incurred a shenanigans penalty for pointing out a move with Jay claiming aggrieved status for two points. Shenanigans are rarely called as all players know that the game is not a team sport but sometimes players get caught up in the moment. As we approached the two hour mark I manufactured an opportunity to win the game with an out of the way victory by liberation against Jay. He missed the threat and the win was guaranteed on my next move, I just had to wait for Lorne and then Luke to move.

I wasn’t paying too much attention to Lorne and Luke’s conflict as they were too far off and no threat to me or my plan. I think Luke had Lorne under threat and trapped in the triangle leaving his only out to take a chance by rolling on the way, and that is what he did. Not only was Luke threatening Lorne but he was also guarding the way against Lorne’s turn. Luke was guarding multiple points along the way and as I said Lorne took his chance on the way and rolled a one, the only number that would place Lorne directly in Luke’s way giving Luke the victory for his last move before my guaranteed win.

Lorne could have rolled anything other than the one and the only way Luke could have won during his last turn was by rolling the die, mine win was guaranteed. Not taking anything away from Luke’s second win of the day but as we often say, the game played me today.

I started the day eighty three points up on Luke for the year and closed the day three points behind him. Good thing we got at least one more tournament date in 2015 even though the outcome will not have an effect on the seeding for the finals.

Front Street

A few days ago my son, the one in film school, reached out to me for a little assist on one of his class projects. He told me that the class had an assignment where they had to make up a log line based upon a story from one of their parents.

For those of you who don’t know what a log line is a log line is one or two sentences that are used to entice, or sell, a person on seeing the movie. An example of the log line from one of the highest grossing movies of all time; “On an infamous doomed vessel, a street-wise hustler crosses paths with a stifled aristocratic dreamer to create an unsinkable love story. And a suspiciously accurate erotic drawing.” The movie if you hadn’t already guessed it was Titanic.

I asked him if he had any particular story in mind and he did so I spent a few hours writing up the requested events that made up that afternoon. Wanting to give him plenty of material in which to craft his log line I figured I would add some back story. I put down a few thousand words so he could come up with less than 50 for his assignment.

I told a few people about the story and they asked if I would publish it so they could read it. I did and it follows below.

Front Street

Being raised in the 1960 & 70’s was a lot different than it is today with all of the distractions and instant gratifications. Back then we had to make our own entertainment which was usually heavily influenced by the environment you grew up in. Fortunately for society most lived within the “Leave it to Beaver” sphere of normalcy where dad works, mom maintains the household and the kids pretty much towed the line of church, education and wholesome pursuits. That was not the society I grew up in, fuck no.

Growing up, for me, included avoiding the glue huffing criminals who made travel difficult at times along the various shortcuts of our heavily industrialized neighborhood. Glue huffing? Yep, we were forever crunching dried up bags of glue as we walked along the railway tracks that separated most of the industrial lands from the lush commercial gardens that made up the other half of our home turf. Criminals? You bet. Not only was the street gang infamous across Canada for their particular brand of violence at that time but organized crime of all stripes would conduct their business along our little stretch of the mighty Fraser River. More than a few bodies were discovered by neighborhood kids as they went about their childhood endeavors on the wrong side of the tracks. Sadly this was my normal. My run of the mill. My same ole, same ole.

Looking back now I can only wonder at how I didn’t end up a drug addled criminal floating from one get rich scheme to the next; ot is beyond me. I might be able to attribute this to several things like blind luck or Saint Leonard not finding me worthy to watch over in prison but regardless of the reasons, I am thankful. The education I received growing up in this commonality certainly was leading down the path to a life behind bars or an early dirt nap. Of course at the time one didn’t think in terms of consequences, those were things that god fearing kids and adults worried about. We didn’t care about consequences because when you grow up evading chemically eviscerated criminals there usually aren’t a lot of god fearing adults around to wag their fingers in recrimination at the choices you are making.

Don’t get me wrong as I am not trying to place any blame at the feet of our parents because a lot of them simply didn’t know what was happening at the street level until it was too late. Their hold over innocence from the 50’s left them woefully ill-equipped to deal with the rapid changes the surging sex, drugs and rock & roll culture were placing upon society. Hell I knew kids who were going home on acid with their parent none the wiser in spite of the bizarre behavior on display by their little darlings. At worst they might have thought their children drunk as they sent them to sleep it off. What did they know about drugs, that wasn’t a topic covered by Archie Bunker on “All in the Family”, they just didn’t know they needed to know about drugs.

Like I said, environments have a lot to do with development. Being brought up that close to hard drug use and criminality at a very young age, coupled with ample opportunities to experience both, provided me with lots of tales for my miss spent youth. Fortunately for me my family moved away when I was about 15 and I suppose I am grateful for that as it provided better examples for more positive growth to round out my journey to manhood. But that’s a different phase in my life and I may cover that one day. For now, I want to cover a story that happened toward the end of my time growing up in the South Burnaby flats.

Just prior to being sent out of town to spend the winter watching over the newly completed house that my father built, my friends and I wanted to attend our junior high dance, maybe get in to a little trouble. In order to ensure a good time we decided that we wanted to score some pot, a nickel bag for sure or if we could scrounge up enough, a dime bag even. That was what you called it back then, nickel or dime bags. Oh and lids too, can’t forget those. After all lids were the straight gag for my favorite Groucho Marx impersonation as a kid with my eyebrows bouncing and an exaggerated flick of a cigar, “Hey kid wanna buy a lid? Fit your jar nicely!” with a wink-wink-wink.

The pot you could get at the time was commercial (basic home grown) that didn’t really do much. If you were lucky you might get some Mexican red hair that contained, by weight, mostly stems and seeds, but technically worked much better than the commercial. There was a lot of Columbian and if you really knew people you could get Hawaiian, Cambodian or the crème de la crème, Thai stick. But we were kids, we didn’t know anybody so the best we could hope for was some to score some commercial in a risky gamble outside of a dive bar.

We didn’t have any bars in our neck of the woods, we did have a night club but it wasn’t the kind of place where a bunch of kids would hang outside of, there were no other businesses near it to use as an excuse for being there. Besides it was a night club and the action didn’t pick up until late in the evening, too late for a bunch of snot nosed kids to score without it being obvious. For a place like a dive bar or strip club we would need to go to the next town over as it had a proper downtown core complete with several dive bars and strip clubs that were opened earlier in the day. Absolutely perfect for our needs as we could hang outside the neighboring businesses and ask the patrons as they filed past us on their way to get their drink on.

Mug & Jugs New Westminster, BC

Our destination of choice was in downtown New Westminster at the College Place Hotel where they had a regular dive bar located right next door to the strip club Mugs & Jugs. Two bars in one location that hopefully meant not too much hang time waiting to score. While there would be a lot of people going in and out of the bars for us to ask the tricky bit was that it was also located about 1 block away from City Hall and the police station. This meant that there were lots of cops around and the 5 of us in our cut off mack/jean jackets combos and long hair stuck out like a bunch of trouble makers looking for booze. The first few people we asked flatly refused to acknowledge our existence which is just as well because any drug pushers worth his weight in salt wouldn’t hesitate to sell his goods to a bunch of kids and clearly, by their lack of response, they weren’t who we were looking for.

It really didn’t take too long before some guy asked us what we wanted, told us how much and proceeded in to the bar armed with our combined funds to secure our bag stems, seeds and dried leafy crumble. We knew we were taking a chance with our money for had our guy decided to drink our money away, there would have been nothing we could have done about it with him safely beyond our reach. As we waited for our pot to emerge all we could do was try to blend in with our surroundings, pray that our dude was sober enough deliver our goods while one of the circling cop cars wasn’t driving by just at that very moment.

After a short wait our guy came out and carelessly tossed us our bag of pot before turning heel and disappearing back inside the bar. No sooner had the bag made it in to a pocket when one of the cop cars rounds the corner and all 5 sets of eyes focus in on the cop behind the wheel. Now we thought we were being extremely cool about it as we all turned in unison like we’d been practicing the maneuver for just such an occasion, and ducked in to the nearby alley hoping to remove ourselves from the notice of the city cop.

All we accomplished, it seemed, was to draw attention to ourselves as we heard the sound of the cops engine speed to parallel the mouth of the ally. Just as his car came to a stop with him looking for us he undoubtedly saw the last of us turn the corner that would put us back on the street in the opposite direction that his car was now pointed. The roar of his motor speeding up and the screeching of his tires told us that he was pulling a U-ey to try to catch us up on the next block. We had anticipated the move being wily veterans of the chase by people more scary than the law. We simply turned tail once again and doubled back to way we came and turned another corner that would have placed us once again moving in the opposite direction to where the cop was heading. It was far easier for a bunch of kids on foot to out maneuver a car in the tight streets and alleys that made up the once regal royal city.

We used this tactic a few times as we zig zagged our way along the side streets and alleys in our efforts to lose this cop and make our way home with our prize. We were experiencing marginal success as we seemed to be gaining a few blocks this cop when he apparently radioed for backup because there were now at least 2 cars actively trying to corner us and cut off our escape. With more than one cop car in on the hunt it was getting more difficult to stay ahead of them as they slowly herded us towards the river, cutting off our options for escape.

Front Street Parkade, New Westminster, BC

With less than 2 block left before being trapped along the coverless banks of the mighty Fraser River I yelled out to my friends to head for the parkade and meet on the second deck. This was our last hope because the parkade was huge with 3 floors at one end that offered up several staircases that led to different areas of the downtown core. As handy as the multiple pedestrian exits were the best part was that if the lazy cops weren’t willing to get out of their cars and chase us up the stairs then they would be stuck using the two car ramps at either end to enter the parkade.

Huddled in the shadows of the second floor we anxiously waited and watched to see what the cops were going to do and sure enough 4 cop cars entered the parkade to start their search for us. The plan was working out perfectly because none of the cops had gotten out of their cars and as soon as they drove in to the parkade we flew down the stairs to the street below. Knowing that it would take a few minutes for them to search the 3 decks for us, and then even longer for them to circle their way back out again using the corkscrew ramps, we beat a hasty retreat. With the rapidly darkening dusk coming to our aid our spirits were lifted as we headed towards the deepening shadows beneath the parkade on Front Street and probable escape.

Front Street Train Tracks New Westminster, BC

Our luck was in as it was about then that we heard the sound of a locomotive blowing its warning horn prior to crossing Front Street down at the end of the parkade. As fate would have it this particular train just happened to be heading down the tracks in the direction of home. Without giving it even a moment’s thought we all started running for the train and the five of us all found ladders to grab on to as we hopped on that sucker to make a clean get away. Less than 20 minutes later we had all made it home to our waiting families and dinner.

I can’t remember the dance as nothing really happened that night other than us smoking a bunch of bad pot. Scoring the pot that day is something I will always remember but that probably has to do with not being stoned at the time but then again, the dance might have just been boring.

A week of Strangeness

Strange LampSo a couple of odd things happened this week, things that give one pause to wonder about the strangeness of coincidences.

My roommate is one of those people that likes to go to car rallies to show off his classic car. I, having spent almost a decade working for a major automotive importer, never got the “stand around in a parking lot with a bunch of cars” as being a fun pastime but he enjoys it.

Well the paid participants of these events receive a shwag bag full of little things like playing cards and such. This one event provided some large promotional balloon that quickly got placed in the discard pile. Not wanting to waste a perfectly good giant balloon I thought I would blow it up and leave it as a booby trap for the cat to play with.

The balloon sat around the house for a few days waiting on the cat’s attention and that wait soon removed the trap from my attention in spite of the fact that the balloon was in plain sight.

Around 3:30 am Thursday morning I was awoken by this really loud cracking sound and it was close by. Sleeping with the window open I just attributed it to something outside, one of the neighbors dropping something as they got ready to drive off to work. I lay awake for a while listening for the sound of a car door or ignition but it never came. Unable to go back to sleep I turned the TV on and watched that until my bladder would no longer be ignored.

Prior to going back to bed I ran in to the roommate as he was getting ready to go to work and I asked him if he heard that noise and he also heard it as it woke him up even though his room was on the other side of the house. Curious we started looking for the source of the sound and it wasn’t long before I noticed the shredded pieces of rubber that used to be the giant red balloon. I started to laugh as I commented about how my little cat trap worked to which the roommate responded with how when he woke he thought the noise was due to the cat but the cat was lying on the bed beside him so it couldn’t have been the cat. We both brushed it off and thought no more about it.

This morning, at around 5:30, I once again woke up needing to use the bathroom followed by a glass of cold water. On my way to the kitchen I noticed that there was light on in the living room. It wasn’t very bright and as such I knew instantly which light it was that was on.

A few years back my younger sister died due to her life long battle with child diabetes. When she passed our mother offered up a few of her favorite possessions to my children as mementos and one of my kids chose her favorite lamp, one of those lamps that responded to the touch to turn it on and off or dim. Kids being kids, a couple of the mementos chosen remain in my care but that is of no concern as I hold them in safekeeping for their eventual retrieval.

After our recent epic black out I thought I would put the lamp in the living room and use it for its intended purpose and lighten up a normally dark corner. This was the light that was on when I woke up this morning, it was on the dimmest setting with not much light given.

I crossed the rooms and stepped down into the sunken living room to tap the lampshade 3 times in an effort to shut it off. As I was doing that I tried to recall if I had turned the light on and forgot to turn it off before going to bed but dismissed the possibility because I knew the light wasn’t on because I turned everything off prior to turning in for the night.

Turning around to leave the room and go back to bed I thought about the strangeness of the event and what could have turned the light on, vibrations from outside the house perhaps when all of a sudden the light snaps on again but this time at its fullest brightness setting. This was especially odd because in order to get to that setting one would have to tap the lightshade 3 times, once for the lowest setting, twice for the middle setting and a third for the brightest. The damned light went straight to the brightest as I was crossing the room.

I thought perhaps my light footfalls created a vibration to set it off so after turning the light off once again I then started thumping my way out of the room in an effort to try to activate the light but to no avail, the light stayed off.
Prior to going back to bed I took one last look to make sure that the light was off and it was so I went back to bed to try to grab a few more hours sleep. No sleep came so after an hour or so I gave up and got out of bed to find the light turned on to the lowest setting once again.

How is that for a week of strangeness?

Evergreen Line of the SkyTrain Light Rapid Transit System

I was born in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan but relocated to British Columbia with my family when I was a toddler. While I was too young to recall all of the details I do know that we moved to the rural area of Port Coquitlam. The very small port town was a hub for CP Rail and other industries. Probably the most famous person to come out of this community was the world renowned Terry Fox. Not only did he and his family live just down the road from my family but I went to the same elementary school although a grade or two behind him.

The area in which I grew up was basically very rural, lots of forests leading into the nearby mountains. Close to where we lived there was an old quarry that eventually became the man made Lafarge Lake. This small lake then turned in to a park for the ever expanding developments that sprung up in the hills and mountains close by. Soon a community and recreation center was built across from the lake followed by a high school and a college. Lots of houses and townhouses sprung up in the foothills and before you knew it several high rise apartment complexes sprouted up as if from nowhere.

Forty years later my childhood so called “off-limits” playground of Lafarge Pit is quite the well developed parkland with everything one could ever need for easy access recreation. Given all of the other amenities that are very close by it only made sense to make Lafarge Lake the terminus station for the brand new Evergreen Line of the Light Rapid Transit Skytrain system.

Friday night I went for a quick walk down the street and I noticed that they were working on the elevated tracks for this driverless train and that they were only a couple of sections from completion. I snapped a couple of pictures and thought I would share them with you.

I live only a few blocks from this new transit arm but I will more than likely be moving out of the area before it is completed, not that I would use it even if it were completed before I left.


They suspend individual sections, somewhere around 20ft long, and join those sections between the supports structures before moving the whole thing down the line.


There are only a couple of support structures left to be spanned before the elevated section is completed, only a few days from now judging by the speed in which they are moving.

Black Bear Encounter on Sidewalk in Coquitlam BC

Sunday morning finds me like most mornings, out for my daily walk. Rain or shine I try to get in an hour of exercise by walking some of the local trails and for me Hoy Creek Trail is fairly convenient as it runs parallel to you guessed it, Hoy Creek.

Hoy Creek is a nice little salmon bearing creek that runs down from the local hills that eventually spills into that empties in to the Coquitlam River before it flows in to the mighty Fraser River. Naturally all of these rivers have nice networks of trails that form some of this city’s fantastic green belts which generally begin up in the mountains. Just like in most places mountains mean wild life and wild life means predators are out and about looking for prey and these green belts bring them right in to the heart of many neighborhoods in their search for food.

Fortunately these predators are more interested in the easy food stuffs lying around in the form of garbage than us and our pets but it does put us in contact with them from time to time. Sure we lose the occasional pet to a coyote or two. Every once in a while you hear about an eagle or some bird of prey swooping down and snatching somebody’s idea of a dog up but generally speaking, most wild life encounters are more like sightings.

As my walk progresses along I am forced to leave the trail as none of my options provide a way under or over some of the very busy streets that cross the trail. Making my way down the sidewalk the rain starts coming down even harder as I turn off of Guildford and start down Johnson. The rain is really coming down hard as I hunker under my huge black umbrella. Fat drops of water are cascading off the points of my umbrella as I am look down at my feet trying to gauge just how many of them are actually landing on my shoes and pant cuffs.

The study of the run off occupies my attention for a few minutes as I walk down the sidewalk. Having decided that my feet are going to get wet regardless of anything I might try I look up from under my umbrella to see a huge black bear amble towards me. Because I was not paying attention to where I was going the black bear is like 30 feet in front of me before I notice it. By the look of it the bear has no intention of moving out of my path and to be honest the options are few for either of us.

Black Bear Encounter Coquitlam BC

“A” is the first bear encounter and “B” is the sighting that happened a few minutes later

To my left the bush is quite thick with no good openings to escape our encounter and to my right is a busy 4 lane road. I am standing there thinking to myself what the hell am I going to do? I know you are not supposed to run when encountering large predators as your running transforms you in to prey and the buggers will instinctively chase after you. Besides where am I going to run to? That when I look and notice that the oncoming traffic is caught up at a red light and I see that the light behind me has just turned green.

Thinking to myself I if I start running across the street right now I can just make it to the other side before the traffic gets to me. If that bears tries to chase after me well the cars might scare it off of me and I might escape. That is exactly what I did, ran across the busy 4 lane street. The black bear continued on its way down the sidewalk until it disappeared in an opening in the green belt.

Continuing my walk I couldn’t help but wonder what the bear would have done had I kept walking on the same sidewalk without looking up to see it there before me. Would we have passed each other like a couple of pedestrians ignoring the other as we make our way through our busy workaday lives? Or would it have dove into the bushes regardless of the brambles rather than get that close to a human? This would probably been the reaction but it could have given me a swat with its great paws as a warning for getting too close?

As I finish my walk guess who I ran in to again? That’s right the black bear again. In the time it took me to walk around the block I see the bruin stopping traffic across the even busier Guildford as it made its way back up towards the mountain.

3D Printing and Molding – Rapid Prototyping

So for the people who have known me for a very long time you will know what I am talking about without having to go in to too much detail as to what I am working on. For those of you who do not know me well I will briefly describe what I am working on.

Back in the winter of 1982 – 1983 I awoke in the middle of the night one evening from a dream where I was playing a game. I lit up a smoke and and quickly drew out a rough version of the game and went back to sleep. I thought about this game off and on for about 5 years before I actually created a prototype.

Over the years I have tried various ways of making these prototypes that generally involved wood beginning with taking a broom handle and planing it to a long hexagonal rod that I would then cut to my desired lengths. Then I would take these cut off tiles as I call them and then spray paint them with plastic paint. Surprising how much paint it would take as the wood would absorb the paint.

Once armed with my painted tiles I would then apply the information to each tile by hand. In the beginning it was all hand drawn that eventually became decals. These looked pretty good but not very cost effective so I continued to find an easier and cheaper way to create these tiles.

Fast forward a few years and my meeting with a Fellow named Ken who introduced me to the world of hand mold making and a product called Smooth-on. This system, while not perfect, seemed to be a possible solution for my “on demand” printing solution. Of course the making of the molds required a positive to use as the source and for that we went to wood once again.

3D Rapid Prototyping

7.5 inches by 5.5 inches positive mold created by 3D printing.

Fast forward a few years more and I check out 3D printing to make my molds. Viola – very precise positives to work from.

This sample is 7.5 X 5.5 inches and took approximately 11.5 hours to print and cost $280.00. The plastic is kind of sticky to the touch for some reason and while it looks strong and durable the reality is that it is not quite that tough. I guess it makes sense when you take in to consideration that it is printed by laying 1 thin strand of plastic, about the thickness of a human hair, upon the previous strand until you have built up enough layers to finish your finished print.

They all do not work that way but the one I used did and this was not a cheap 3D Printer as it was a commercial grade printer that cost upwards of $50,000.00.

Armed with my new 3D Printed prototype that would allow me to make a dozen blank tiles at a time I mix up a batch of Smooth-On mold making goop and proceed to make my first mold – or so I thought.

The molding material takes 24 hours to cure so I wait a solid day before I make the attempt to de-mold. Having never used this material before I soon discover that removing the mold from the positive is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Not only does this rubber grip everything tightly but there is actually no place for me to grab the mold as the sides of the positive are higher than the mold surface.

Smooth-on Mold

The extracted Smooth-On mold from the 3D printed positive.

I was hoping to use the positive to make at least 6 molds but I am fearful that I am going to have to break my positive to get access my mold. It took me over an hour to coax up an edge of the mold high enough to clear the edge of the positive so I could grip the mold and pull it out of the positive. In the process I actually cracked the floor of the positive and while I will be able to use it to make at least one more mold I am hopeful that by gluing the positive to a stronger surface I will be able to get my 6 molds.

I guess the take away from this would be that while 3D Printing Rapid Prototyping is a fast way to make your molds you have to keep in mind that they are not that strong. If you are going to be using this method to make your molds then you would be well advised to reinforce the prototype by gluing Plexiglas panels to the bottom and sides as the forces required to de-mold may break your 3D printed prototype.

I will continue to use this process to make my components so that I can “Print on Demand” my game creations.

A Drone Outside Your Window What Do You Do?


Replace the camera with a remote controlled gun!

So I had a rather morbid thought today as I went for my morning walk. As some of you know I enjoy crime dramas and documentaries and in some of these programs they perform a particular forensic test to determine from which direction a bullet was fired by tracing the trajectory with lasers pointers from the point of impact. Pretty sure if you have seen a crime drama you have seen them do this test.

Any way my thought was quite simply this; what could stop someone from mounting a remote controlled weapon such as a small calibre rifle, on a remote controlled drone and parking it outside your window and start shooting at people, places or things? Pretty easy frame up eh? Want some revenge on somebody, set them up for a little or a lot of public damage by making it look like they were shooting off a gun from their 10 floor balcony.

We could actually take this another step further by using these drones as an assassination tool to off politicians and other high level targets. Again armed with a silent drone that has a range of 3 miles or so and viola, the assassin gets the shot off from three miles away or so thus enabling them a much higher escape rate. How do the authorities defend against something like that?

I am going to step out on a limb here and make the prediction that this method of attack is going to be used by terrorists to make attacks here in North America. And wouldn’t that offer up some more irony? The US military complex uses sophisticated drones that costs hundreds of thousands of dollars to strike with and the terrorists will use off of the shelf toys that cost tens of hundreds of dollars that will cause way more damage given the value of the targets the two combatants aim at.

Black Bear along the Hoy Creek Trail Coquitlam BC

Yesterday was a bit unusual for me as I had back to back to back conference calls that started early in the morning and went through to mid-afternoon. The early morning start interfered with my daily walk leaving me the choice of going in the afternoon or just waiting until the evening which would make for a rather dull Friday night. After sitting at the computer for hours straight I needed to stretch my legs so I opted for the afternoon.

In behind my apartment complex there is a nice stretch of the Hoy Creek Trail so I often start my walk there, get some fresh air before going out to the sidewalks skirting some heavily trafficked roads. As I walk along the trail I round a slight corner and notice some movement on the little bridge crossing Hoy Creek up ahead. Much to my surprise a large black bear steps off of the bridge on to the trail about 10 yards in front of me and casually starts sniffing his way down the path.

Naturally I just stopped and remained motionless and continued to watch the bear ever so slowly walk in the other direction. Looking at the bear I think about who does one call to report a bear sighting in the city, do I call 911 or some other group? Upon further thought I figured that by the time anybody responded to my call the bear would have already left the path he was on and surprised whoever was at the other end of the trail. Knowing that this part of the trail opens on to a very busy sidewalk at a bus stop on the even busier Johntson Street I figured this could get real bad real quick. I thought it would better if I circled around and warned the people I knew that would be on the sidewalk of the impending arrival of the bear.

Taking a different path I hurried to the other end of the same sidewalk that the bear would soon be on and began warning people of the danger ahead. The first 2, an older woman with a young teenage girl in tow thanked me and continued on their way towards the direction of the bear. A little further ahead there was a group of 6 elderly people enjoying the view of Hoy Creek and all the little salmon fry swimming in the waters below the overpass they were on. I warned them to be on the lookout for the bear and continued up the road towards where the bear would eventually immerge. Next, a young woman tuned out with her iPod was walking towards me so I stopped her and warned her as I knew the bear had to be close by and likely in the bushes to her right.

Upon arrival of where the Hoy Creek trail joins the sidewalk I looked down the path and sure enough here comes the bear. By this time the little old lady and her granddaughter caught me up and I pointed out the bear. The young woman with the iPod turns around and comes to join the three of us as we watch the bear slowly walk towards us. About 15 yards from us the bear turns off of the path and goes in to the bush to cut across the creek. This I know will put the bear heading straight towards the group of old people admiring the salmon fry so I warn them once again and they start walking off.

Black BearSeeing the group of the old people walking away I also see more people walking towards us, I start walking towards them in an effort to try to keep the bear from coming out of the bush right on top of these unsuspecting people. Armed only with my camera, and making a lot of noise, I tried my best to parallel the bear as he went through the bushes in an effort to keep the bear in there.

Suddenly the bear charges out the bushes right between the two divergent groups of people and runs across the busy 4 lane street causing a few emergency stops and scarring a lot of people. Once on the other side of the street the bear walks along the sidewalk to where the Hoy Creek trail continues its way deep in to the neighborhood.

As we watch the bear go back in to the woods surrounding the creek the little old lady and her granddaughter catch me up and she says in her thick eastern European accent, “I have lived in Canada now for a long time and I have never, ever seen a bear.” To this I could only respond with as I resumed my walk, “You can’t say that any more.”

Summer 2014 update – Heat yawn!

So the summer is cooking along nicely and I find my that my new place out in Coquitlam BC does not work well with the heat wave we got going on right now. My unit is on the second floor and well shaded throughout the day but it still gets way too warm in here. I have had apartments on higher floors that stayed cooler than this place. When I took this place the ad read Executive Apartment but as I spend more time inhere I find that the only thing executive about this place is the rent!

I know it has been a while since my last post and for that I am sorry even though I am pretty much just apologizing to my self. I would have done it sooner but I had to remove my Feedburner account first due to the new spam laws here in Canada. No I wasn’t spamming anybody seeing as originally the people who had subscribed to my feed did so through a double opt in system but the new laws required that I seek their approval prior to July 1, 2014 and I wasn’t about to do that. Sure there might have been only a few hundred people but I just couldn’t be bothered so I had to delete the list before I posted again.

I also meant to post something about the constant crow attacks but I did a video about it instead. Below is that video and I am also going to re-post the little blurb I did on the subject.

This morning I was out for my usual walk but with a slight difference; today I strapped a GoPro camera to my head so that I could document how I am being dive bombed by crows. I watch as other people stream by the same locations throughout the day with no attacking crows dive bombing their heads but as soon as I walk outside the crows start diving at my head. Sure I know it is fledgling season and their young birds are out in the trees but I am not going near them. In fact in the beginning of the video you can see the first crow come out from behind the top of a high rise apartment building to set up his first swooping attack. Towards the end of the video you can see how one of them actually comes in contact with my head as it jiggles the camera view.

I just moved to this neighborhood and these buggers are just outside of my apartment complex. Upon occasion they perch in the trees just off of my balcony and look in my window and scream at me while I am watching TV. Lucky for them it is against the law to kill crows here or I would do away with the little buggers as I can’t even go out to the store without them diving at my head and dropping things on me from on high.

My next post should be a cob house update.