It's true folks. After that last post which was all globally aware and what not, this may prove to be a let down. I apologize in advance.
People, I am pissed! That's right. I got back from my business trip up in Northern Ontario, which I will blog about once the anger has died down a little. After my flight, which was not as uncomfortable as the flight there (where I got elbowed in the head repeatedly while sitting between two very very large men - but again, that is a post for another time), I got into a limo. This is standard, since I'm on the company bill and the limo and taxis from Pearson are fared (meaning they have a flat rate depending on what part of Toronto you're going to) so there's not much difference between the prices.
If anyone's ever taken an airport limo or taxi from Pearson, you know it's usually an "uncle" driving you home. Usually I don't mind. They sorta see a girl of their own kind and they want to make sure you don't end up with one of those other drivers, the handful that come from Eastern Europe.
Let's return to today's trip. I get into the limo. I give the driver the nearest major intersection to my aparment, which is standard practice. He proceeds to ask me if it's north or south or such and such street. I say north. he then asks if it's east or west of this other street. I say West. Jolly good and we're on our way.
I notice as we take the exit off the highway that he's in the wrong lane. I mention it to him that he should probably take a right and get no response, so I keep my peave and put my trust in Uncle. (I once guided a driver I had before and offended a limo driver cause I guess he thought I thought he was incompotent, but that wasn't the case. I was just really tired and wanted to get home after my flight had been delayed).
I sit back and watch all the big houses go by, he comes up to the intersection nearset my house, we turn onto my street and since he hasn't yet asked the building number I gave it to him. He then says, It's halfway. I'm confused and ask, Halfway to what? Apparently, I'm halfway between one major intersection and another major intersection and I should've told him the other major intersection, because then he would've come from the other direction and taken this street and that street and then turned. My response? Oh, okay then.
But nooooo, he doesn't let it rest there. Uncle proceeds to tell me another TWO TIMES how I should've given him directions. To both these I respond with silence.
It's only when he says, Next time tell me the number first that I finally get pissed.
Excuse me? What were you doing that was so important when I came along and asked you to do your job? Oh, oh, what was that? Leaning against your car staring off into the distance? Yeah? Then shut up! Do not tell me what I need to do the "next time" cause that's assuming I will ever get a ride in your limo again! I understand that you're a little anal and want to know exactly where you're going right away, but then instaed of asking me what general direction out of north, south, east and west my building is located, ask me the stupid number when I first sit down! And then, THEN, why do you insist on beating a dead horse? You said it once, and then again, and then again, and then that one more time you thought when you told me how I should have given you directions to my building that it would suddenly change things somehow? Four times Was that really necessary? Let's get something straight...I am not your wife, I am not your daugther, I am not any acquaintance of your's - you cannot lecture me. I have hired you to do a job for a fee. Just do it. I don't need to be told how I should have hired you to do that job. I did my part, now you need to do your's. Without talking.
Anyway, when I finally did respond I think he knew he'd lost his tip. Too bad for him, I'm a very good tipper. Especially when I'm on the company bill.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
My goal: To start with just one
I had a lovely afternoon. Lovely why? Well, because this afternoon I spent watching a two hour film of the most depressing human tragedy in recent years. And it reminded me what it means to care.
This afternoon, one of my best friends, my younger sister, her friend from our hometown and I caught
Shake Hands with the Devil at TIFF. The movie is, as most movies about the topic of the Rwandan genocide are, absolutely amazing. Amzing in the sense that the massacre of innocent men, women and children is pitted against the backdrop of apathetic Western nations, while still capturing the very real, very rich and very beautiful Rwandan country and cultures.
This movie, however, was something more for me. It's been a long long while since I've looked up Lieutenant General Roméo Dallaire as a hero of mine. To be able to see the chilling events from his perspective (albeit in two hours) is something that my imagination couldn't think up, even while reading the book on which the movie is based. I've attended, read and heard talks by Major Brent Beardsley and Stephen Lewis, but never had that same opportunity with Dallaire's work (save for a few UN addresses posted online).
So fast forward to today...when sitting 3 rows ahead of me, was Romeo Dallaire himself. I didn't know what to do with myself. This was the man who led a few hundred troops to save the lives of over 30,000 people. 30,000 people who were forgotten by the international community. 30,000 who weren't added to the 1 million who lay slaughtered after 100 days of genocide. I expected Roy Dupuis, Deborah Kara Unger and James Gallanders to be there. Obviously, they starred in the movie (and were also in the same row as him). But Romeo Dallaire himself, sitting there - the though hadn't crossed my mind!
Before the film began, the director spoke about the conditions Dallaire put on making the movie about his role in Rwanda. He said "Tell the truth, make the story about Rwanda and the people, and don't make a hero out of me". You could tell during the numerous standing ovations given to both the film, and to him when he was invited to address the crowd of 1,500, that he still wasn't comfortable with being thrust into the spotlight of "hero" to thousands. If his apparent discomfort wasn't enough, his autobiography details his years in therapy as well as his attempts at suicide in order to forget what he saw in Rwanda. He saved the lives of 30,000 people but was unable to convince the international community that with the added enforcement of a few thousand troops the entire genocide could have been prevented. And he sees that as not only the world failing Rwanda, but his failure as well.
Managing what he did. Surviving what he did. And having the courage to continue to speak about it - I don't see that as failure. But then again, I've never saved anybody's life, let alone an entire nation's.
This afternoon, one of my best friends, my younger sister, her friend from our hometown and I caught
Shake Hands with the Devil at TIFF. The movie is, as most movies about the topic of the Rwandan genocide are, absolutely amazing. Amzing in the sense that the massacre of innocent men, women and children is pitted against the backdrop of apathetic Western nations, while still capturing the very real, very rich and very beautiful Rwandan country and cultures.
This movie, however, was something more for me. It's been a long long while since I've looked up Lieutenant General Roméo Dallaire as a hero of mine. To be able to see the chilling events from his perspective (albeit in two hours) is something that my imagination couldn't think up, even while reading the book on which the movie is based. I've attended, read and heard talks by Major Brent Beardsley and Stephen Lewis, but never had that same opportunity with Dallaire's work (save for a few UN addresses posted online).
So fast forward to today...when sitting 3 rows ahead of me, was Romeo Dallaire himself. I didn't know what to do with myself. This was the man who led a few hundred troops to save the lives of over 30,000 people. 30,000 people who were forgotten by the international community. 30,000 who weren't added to the 1 million who lay slaughtered after 100 days of genocide. I expected Roy Dupuis, Deborah Kara Unger and James Gallanders to be there. Obviously, they starred in the movie (and were also in the same row as him). But Romeo Dallaire himself, sitting there - the though hadn't crossed my mind!
Before the film began, the director spoke about the conditions Dallaire put on making the movie about his role in Rwanda. He said "Tell the truth, make the story about Rwanda and the people, and don't make a hero out of me". You could tell during the numerous standing ovations given to both the film, and to him when he was invited to address the crowd of 1,500, that he still wasn't comfortable with being thrust into the spotlight of "hero" to thousands. If his apparent discomfort wasn't enough, his autobiography details his years in therapy as well as his attempts at suicide in order to forget what he saw in Rwanda. He saved the lives of 30,000 people but was unable to convince the international community that with the added enforcement of a few thousand troops the entire genocide could have been prevented. And he sees that as not only the world failing Rwanda, but his failure as well.
Managing what he did. Surviving what he did. And having the courage to continue to speak about it - I don't see that as failure. But then again, I've never saved anybody's life, let alone an entire nation's.
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