Leaving Montreal proved difficult, mostly due to a CF of construction.  Almost all East-West highways were closed around the bus station where I needed to deposit Adam so he could return to Toronto.  Diligence won out, and after pushing the “Detour” button on my GPS five times, Adam made his bus with seconds to spare.  I headed south towards Burlington, VT to meet Braedon.

Burlington is a “Why Does This Exist” town for me noted for having expensive shops that people buy things from because they’re expensive and with a faux-folksiness that may be less than skin deep covered in a veneer of chocolate and maple syrup.  David Sedaris was performing that night in a local theater and for only $75 I could have seen it.

Braedon is a college kid and comports himself as such.  We had a lunch of Chinese food in a mall food court and my “is there anything neat around here?” was met with a shoulder shrug.

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Braedon looks to the right

The neatest thing we found

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A performer... of some sort.

We walked to the quay, I took a picture for some visitors, we walked backed from the quay, we walked around Main Street, I purchased fudge, I departed.

Thus ended my time in Burlington, VT.  It was nice to meet Braedon but I found the area otherwise uncompelling.  It was designed for those who are not faint of wallet and without the draw of boutiqueness I am hopeful that it will be crushed under the boot heel of Amazon.com soon.  The one saving grace was the large number of people walking really big dogs.  I like big dogs.

Driving south to Albany was the Vermont I wanted to see.  Fall’s palette was vast and warm.  Hay bales were arranged to make animals.  Scarecrows were all smiling and several held glasses of wine.  Every shopping center had one vacant store and the whole area had a dilapidated dignity that said “we were once great but are ok with not being that anymore”.  I hope I face death with such dignity.

BADASS HDR OF A QUAY

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HDR!

I have a fixed version where the mountains don’t look like they’re phasing out of spacetime but have yet to upload it.

Montreal is a crazy town to me, somehow perpetuated by the ideological differential between French and English Canada.   For instance, on the way home from Bianca’s last night there were six CRT TV sets out on the curb on our walk home.  Today wasn’t a garbage pick-up day nor was there some sort of special TV collection in progress, just six sets soaking up sidewalk and this didn’t seem odd until I pointed it out.

Adam and I stayed in Richard’s basement and Adam was roused by the Kallos’s dog, Lucy.

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Lucy ready to attack

Lucy is a friendly dog, and upon being licked awake a second time Adam yelled “WHY ARE YOU STILL LOVING ME”.  Breakfast was a mishmash of eggs, Pacheco’s chorizo, smoothie, and bacon and most of us did our fair share to make sure everything was eaten.

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How a Sausage Should be Enjoyed

 

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A Crowded Kitchen

We met up with Brian and Andrei at a Metro stop and Bianca departed to attend to some things.  Andrei and Alan were both more talkative than during our first meeting and hearing what there were up to was pleasant.  We returned to Alan’s before getting lunch.

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Outside Alan's

I had assumed that poutine was the specialty of Montreal when in reality it is more of a provincial food.  The local delicacy is smoked meats, and this we had in spades:

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Smoked Montreal Meats

Maybe Philadelphia has spoiled me, but I found it unremarkable.  The smoke flavor was weak and the flavor of the meat itself was buried under mustard.  I finished mine, and the rest of Brian’s, and the rest of Bianca’s (maybe it was good), and we again returned to Alan’s.

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Intersection by Night

Time passed to the perennial favorite of Super Smash Bros where my utter gracelessness with a control over keyboard + mouse rendered me useless.  As sun set, we decided to climb Mount Royal.

Alan’s apartment was about a 1/2 mile from the foot of the “mountain” and I moved slowly taking photos.  There were a dozen searchlights pointed at the clouds illuminating the overcast night and for what reason none in the party was sure.  After crossing McGill university we set up the unlit roads toward the peak and I was very glad I had a continuous LED light that I use as fill flash for video with me as we otherwise had no form of illumination.  The climb to the first of two observation levels was long enough that the group separated into two groups, Richard and myself and then everyone else.  I hadn’t before realized that thinner than me didn’t mean fitter than me and I was happy at the pace I kept.

The view of Montreal from the main belvedere provided a “hey, do you remember that?”

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Montreal from Above

The weird antennae of light to the right is what remains from the 1976 Montreal Olympiad.

At the top of Mount Royale is an illuminated LED cross which we decided to see if we could reach.  There was much fencing but we found a break in it and started going up.  The top-most point wasn’t occupied by the cross but by an antenna station that was reachable via a fenced road or the network of foot paths and switchbacks we took.  Having gone so far for nothing, we celebrated the discovery of a puddle.

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We walked a ridiculous amount to the top of Montreal. When we got there, nothing of interest was present so we assumed the mountain protected this puddle.

Oh yeah, then there was the cross.

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Top of the Mountain

We stood near the fence and talked about how TF2 had changed over the past three years, a juxtaposition I found novel.

On the way down, rain began to pour and after about 12 miles of walking today we wanted to eat again.  We walked towards Frite Alors! against a deluge where again the different parts of Montreal came to light.  St. Catherine’s Street is probably the main artery and had dapper but dully dressed Anglophones on one side of the street walking with their umbrellas and much more daring Francophones on the other side darting through the rain without so much as coats in many cases.  I was fine with the combination of water, running, and cocktail dresses.

Poutine is the closest I’ve found to soul food when traveling, combining salt, fat, starch, and warm in a serving environment where one only requires a fork.  Ours were served in bowls although a trough may have been more appropriate.  I will miss it.

We dropped off Alan, and then unwound the evening at Richard’s watching Community.  Since I enjoyed the show, it should be cancelled soon.

Thank you for having me, Montreal.  It was fun.

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Richard, Andrei, Bianca, Adam

From 2011-10-14 The Pachecos

Pacheco’s Meat Market is near mythic in the ersatz pantheon of Team Interrobang.  Gary (Church) and Derek (Caboose) Pacheco both work there in some capacity and it’s been spun off in a dozen directions some of which are nice (there’s a Pacheco’s Meat Market-level Donor class) to not so nice (“Come meet my aunt.  She’s a nice lady and all and her face is busted but her body’s slammin’.”)  The market itself is unremarkable but the magic happens in the back where the signature chorizo, a type of Portuguese sausage, is made.

From 2011-10-14 The Pachecos

The chorizo has its fans and gets shipped all over the United States.  A batch was being smoked while I was there and I was given some before I left.

Gary and Derek took me to a fine lunch and then gave me a tour of Fall River which consisted of pointing out perpetual construction, rust, and graffiti removal.  Any of the Pachecos are hesitant to move as most of their family lives within a few blocks of them, something that carried over from their origins in the Azores.  I asked Gary and Derek’s mother if she preferred the states or back home and received the reply of “I could go back home if I had to.  I wouldn’t want to, but I could.  But I would miss having floors.”  Of all the wonders of America that would inspire longing, floors tug strongest at the heart strings.

The Pachecos’ apartment building is small but tidy and is bathed in bits of family history.  Photos from across three generations, from major life events, and of life’s marginalia crammed available shelves.  Gary and Derek’s father has at times looked like Chuck Norris, The Most Interesting Man in the World, and Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva making him the template for some future Portuguese Übermensch.  Their dog, Chewy (named after the adjective, not the Wookiee) enjoys butting against bed frames, especially mine, and was unenthused to see me leave in the late afternoon.

From 2011-10-14 The Pachecos

I had drug my feet more than I wished and hit every possible type of traffic on my way north to Quebec.  Having blown my 10 PM arrival time, I stopped for a nap and a pound of pears at a farmer’s market connected to a McDonalds and crossed the border into Canada alone without incident for what I think is the first time ever.  The arterial roads all seemed to be under construction with frequent lane closures but the hour was late enough for this to not matter.  All the signs were in French and each section of road work ended with a sign saying “Fin” like I was driving out of a student film each time quality pavement returned.

Richard was again my host and his father, consummate competitor, challenged me to a game of backgammon.  Bianca was on her way out when I arrived and Richard, Adam, and I walked her home.  Bianca had made for me a painting of fireflies around a pear, I very much like it.

Reference Shots:

From 2011-10-14 The Pachecos
From 2011-10-14 The Pachecos

I’m going to Montreal this weekend and my target this evening was the home of Gary and Derek Pacheco in Fall River, MA.  The drive allowed me to knock a state off my To Visit list, Rhode Island.  Near Providence, I saw an amazing sign, a ship whose body was a stock pot being captained by a large plastic lobster with the text of “Become the Captain of the USS Chowder Pot III”.  I smiled until I realized something: What happened to the USS Chowder Pot I & II?  Lesson: Don’t let lobsters captain ships.

 

I went to pick up my repaired iMac:

Attendant: Ok, sir.  Your computer is done, I just need you to sign here.
Me: *receives paperwork, begins reading*
Attendant: May I help you?
Me: Just reading.  *reads*  I’m not signing this.
Attendant: Why, sir?
Me: The last line says “by signing here you are stating that all repairs have been satisfactorily completed”.  I don’t have the computer yet, so I have no idea.
Attendant: I can’t give you the computer until you sign.
Me: And I can’t sign until you give me the computer.  It appears we’re at an impass.  So, what do we do?
Attendant: *pause* My boss will be back within the hour.  You can wait until then.
Me: *raises eyebrow*
Attendant: *begins visibly sweating* Uh, we can plug it in.
Me: And…
Attendant: In the store, then you can see that it picks up wifi and the repair will be done!
Me: Sure.
Attendant: *plugs in computer, boots* See, “NETGEAR”.  It works.
Me: Wonderful.

I read the fine print not to protect myself but because it often provides the chance for an adventure.

While cake balls proved neither much easier compared to truffles nor particularly fun they were quite tasty and the general idea of “tasty thing surrounded by chocolate” was popular at work.  I found a recipe for a peanut butter cake ball that used peanut butter pound cake with chunky peanut butter and coated in a peanut butter candy melt.  This lacked depth so I replaced the coating peanut butter with semi-sweet chocolate.  The inside tasted much better smoother and a little sweater, so I substituted Nutter Butters for some of the peanut butter.  This internal mixture was harder to work with so I had to freeze the center dollops before coating.  After coating, I stored the bits in silicone cupcake wrappers just to keep them separate.

So, after much work, I had developed a sweet peanut butter core that was almost flaky surrounded by a smooth chocolate coating held in a silicone-treated wrapper.  I have re-invented the Reese’s Peanut Butter cup.

The Objective-C reference book I use doesn’t lay flat and proved difficult to consult so I went to Staples to have the binding removed so I could hole punch it and put the pages in a binder.  I told the copy person what I wanted done and he said it was doable for a few bucks but it’d take him a bit to get around to it.  I left the book, had a quick lunch, and returned to copy station where the neatly despined book lay.  I asked for the price:

Copy Person: No charge.  I know the pain that lies in your future.  Good luck.
Me: Thank you.

Well then.

The closest Apple-certified repair center was a typewriter repair store in Philadelphia that apparently did nothing but repair typewriters and Apple computers.  I loaded my iMac into my car, drove to the place and found it closed with a sign that said “Closed Thursdays”.  Great.

But there was a hitch, the sign’s font was Calibri.  No self-respecting Apple enthusiast would ever use Microsoft’s flagship ClearType font for a store sign.  This store either had a dark secret or a dark irony to it, neither of which I wanted to deal with.  To the Apple Repair Center near my workplace.

Coworker: You like to bake, don’t you, Terry?
Me: Yes.
Coworker: Have you tried making cake balls?
Me: No. What are they?
Coworker: They’re a treat where you coat a cake and something else in chocolate.
Me: Sounds like a truffle make with cake.
Coworker: They’re easier and more fun.
Me: Well, one of the constituent steps is “bake a cake” right?
Coworker: Yep.
Me: That step one is the only step for baking a cake as opposed to cake balls which I imagine then have other steps.  Sounds harder.
Coworker: But they’re more fun.
Me: How are they more fun?
Coworker: Because they’re cake balls instead of a cake.
Me: *blank stare* I… have a meeting.

?

My iMac apparently came with a wireless card.  Doesn’t seem to be working.  Called Apple Technical Support.

Me: My iMac’s wireless card doesn’t appear to be working.
Tech #1: Sir, your device is out of warranty, would you like to sign up for an extra year or would you like to pay the $34.95 cost for a spot license?
Me: It’s a hardware issue which is still covered.  Can I just get an RMA?
Tech #1: That is yet to be determined.
Me: The card is not appearing in the system.
Tech #1: Sir, please choose.
Me: Do I get a refund if it turns out to be a hardware issue?
Tech #1: I believe, let me check.  *five minute pause* Yes, sir.  Pardon the delay, I had to elevate the question several times to get an answer.
Me: I’ll take the one-off option.  You don’t deal with legit hardware issues often, do you?
Tech #1: No.  Let me transfer you to a technical agent.
Me: Ok.
Tech #2: Sir, I see you’ve chosen the spot warranty option.  I’ll walk you through the fix.
Me: I don’t think it’ll work.  The card’s simply not appearing.
Tech #2: Let’s try a few things *tries a few things*
Me: Can I just get an RMA for this?
Tech #2: It’s almost always a software issue.  Let’s try one more thing.  *tries one more thing*  Hm… still no luck.  Let’s get you a repair authorization.
Me: Ok.
Tech #3: Sir, your RMA # is XXXXX.  Pardon for the wait.
Me: Can I get my refund for the call too?
Tech #3: Sure, one moment.  *comes back 5 minutes later*  Sorry for the delay, sir, no one on my floor recalled having actually dealt with a hardware issue of this kind and no one knew the refund procedure.
Me: So, am I getting a refund?
Tech #3: Yes, the department service VP did the refund by hand.
Me: You don’t deal with a lot of actual hardware issues, do you?
Tech #3: No, sir.  Usually customers have a software issue or just decide to upgrade.

Ha, years of working with Windows has given me an intuitive sense of when the hardware’s just borked.  Take that, Apple.