Went on a plane yesterday. It was Ontario cold, and Ontario snowing. Good friday travelling seems like a dream when you've had little sleep for the past week... So literally at certain moments I was dreaming.
I got off the plane in Vancouver. People are wearing shorts and tees. It's hotter than hell. Here I am, Ontario cold, bundled in my sweater and hoodie and long jacket in this weird parallel universe where there are mountains that people ski on all year long and the Reform Party got it's start. I'm in the land of extremes. Either it's socialist or capitalist in this land that Allan Fotheringham once remarked was all about "entertainment" when it comes to politics.
A day. A night. A sleep. The next day and I walk out the door. It's cold. Not Ontario cold, but cold.
Someone remarks to me "That the way things are here.... One day it's cold, the other is hot, it's weird."
I halfway muttered jokingly "It explains the politics."
This is my first time out in the Northwest. I'll say one thing, I'll never get used to looking at the rockies.