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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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Now it was time for me to return to Nelson for the Advanced Placer Course, only the car had been developing some issues. Trifling issues, like the brakes making loud squalling noises when I drove and not responding - however slightly - when I applied pressure. This was a bad thing, I needed to change the brakes, only I didn't have the $200-$400 to pay somebody to do it.
And I postponed, parked the car, avoided, procrastinated, until finally there was no postponing any further, Wednesday, time to leave, so I watched the requisite youtube videos and purchased the brake pads ($30.00, the cheapest, remembering a Bukowski novel in which he's trying to sort the deluxe brakes from the generic brakes and he asks "What's the difference?" and he's told none, only price..), another $20 for a C-Clamp and 13 mm wrench, and I'm off.
I'm paranoid, this brake changing, if it doesn't solve my problems I'm hooped. It'll be the bus to Nelson for the course, and a nightmare getting to work. And I'm a bit worried about not having the car on blocks, but I jack it up and make it steady, double check, and get it done. I've seen cars come down on people, I don't want to be that idiot. The pads are completely worn out, only 3 remaining, all together they don't measure an inch in thickness, one of them is vanished entirely and only the metal spring has been stopping me.
The whole job takes me 45 minutes and costs, with tools, $50. And they're working fine. Perfectly. I drive around, high mountain roads, not a sound, not a whisper, I'd forgotten what it was like, how easy was that and who pays mechanics $200 or more to do this? Bloody hell.
When I finally get back from the course - brakes working perfectly, I notice I've developed a small antifreeze leak, which - when my next day off arises, I'll fix, in all certainty it's a rad hose, leaky or loose, but I notice a curious symmetry in the events that remind me of a time when I took my car in to be fixed for a leaky rad hose and ended up (or so I was told) getting my brakes done, by "professional mechanics" at Canadian Tire, and it cost me - I'm not joking - $3000.00.
Think fraud, laugh, I know, that is a separate post, I merely wished to observe that having spent almost $3000 at Canadian Tire my rad hose was not fixed, my brakes (no observable problem, but I took their word) apparently were, and so I spent $3000 on a job I didn't need done and probably wasn't done, when I could have fixed my brakes myself for $50 and left the rad hose as leaky as they did. But I'll fix my own rad hose this time, thank you very much, and when I'm in a slightly more venomous mood I'll tell you all - tell the world - about the time I was swindled, defrauded, and out - and - out robbed by the Hunterhorn Canadian Tire, and provide all the necessary receipts and evidence for you to make up your own minds. But that's a different post.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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I'd postponed work to take the Advanced Placer Mining course offered by the Chamber of Mines in Nelson. May 28 - May 31, Thursday, Friday evenings, Saturday & Sunday days on field trips.
The course was a little more unstructured than the previous introduction to prospecting, the first day was reviewing placer techniques and various places to look, the second was an introduction to hard rock prospecting using placer techniques. Most of the time was spent watching the gold based "reality" tv shows, Yukon Gold and the like, and analyzing what they were doing wrong. And, above and beyond general incompetence and a remarkable lack of charisma, they were doing plenty wrong.
Now I'd written up about 10 pages of notes to share, but then it occurred to me that really, this post isn't about sharing my (or the instructors) knowledge. As he tells you when your taking the course, you're getting 30 years of his hard-won experience. So if your interested I'll recommend the course, cheap at double the price. The class, 8 people, 6 I recognized from the Introduction to Prospecting, the other 2 had been waiting a couple of years to get into this course. Washington had returned, as had one of the girls (she lived in her VW van), none from Nelson, most from the area, average age perhaps 60 years.
The first days field trip was to the instructors claim near the border, turn off cell phones as we're now being charged roaming. And digging our holes we get down to virgin ground, take it to the river in buckets, pan it out. Nothing remarkable, long day, but checking with the others I find one of the students had a cm long thin nugget, and Washington had a small jar full of pennyweight nuggets. Not bad for a couple of hours work, and he's had his epiphany, he looks off into the distance, misty eyed, and tells us how in his entire prospecting career he's never gotten this much gold out in a day...
I'm jealous, not a single nugget in my pan, but I didn't have a classifier, and some of it is going to be down to dumb luck. Only some, the remainder will have to be adjusted on my end...But you couldn't wish this luck on a better person, and I'm relieved there were nuggets recovered, I was beginning to get a little skeptical...
It's easy to see how the fever sets in.
Day 2, hard rock techniques, high up on another claim, swarmed by small flies, not black flies, but bigger, and I'm justly skeptical of their intentions, it doesn't take long, welts and trickles of blood begin to run down my arms, neck, I'd taken a ride up with a classmate and left my insect repellent in the car, I'm now a savory treat for every little winged nightmare that haunts the north woods. More techniques, sampling, then the end of class, informal goodbyes, I'm a good 8 hours drive from Calgary.
The class, very worthwhile, interesting people and a lot of good information. Now another 2 months in hell to replenish my finances and then it'll be time again to be off...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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Covered in insect bites that are beginning to itch, it's once more into the Breach. A 2 month contract in hell, day one, the owner friendly, this is to be a temporary arrangement until the summer vacation, but if I know them they'll try to extend it...
The owner, he's a lot of opining to do, opinions on the new NDP government and how the conservatives could be so stupid (he blames Jim Prentice, an occasional customer.). Opinions on the TFW laws, which are going to make it impossible for him to stay in business, they're all being sent back, he's losing his sous-chef, returning to the Philippines, he can't find Canadians to work, he's brought in a journalist for lunch so he can stand and tell him how these laws will be closing down all the restaurants in the city...
I keep my opinions to myself. Read between the lines and his every argument for foreign workers is an argument against them, while I like them all they represent the vicious underbelly of exploitation: intolerable work conditions, long hours and low pay.
The nephew, when they talked me into it, he began to laugh, it's like giving you the monkeys paw, good luck getting rid of it, and while he's away to renew his temporary work permit I have a feeling he won't be trying to hard to come back, the boom days are over....
The days off have disappeared, they forgot to mention it, we're a server short, the three of us can man the restaurant, day and night, every open shift, until the vacation. G reassures me that we need the money, and then in the same breath mutters he wouldn't mind a day off so he can take out his girlfriend...No job deserves a day off more than this, but it's not going to happen...
And there are the customers, all the regulars comment on your return, surprise, some pleased, some dismayed, my pleasant attitude was wearing a little thin towards the end, my infinite patience now renewed for another 2 month contract, and then?
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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And the grim flogging off of excessive materialism, generally at a loss. So far it's just been Kijiji, I console myself with the fact that what doesn't sell there can be moved on eBay. I'm not really too concerned with market price, more with getting it out so I can get more in. And getting it out so I can buy some food and eat, I'm not due back in Hell for another 10 days, and things are getting pretty lean.
It amazes me what sells. Not so much what sells, I mean, I bought it so why wouldn't anyone else? But what sells vs what doesn't, the cameras, all of them, interest shown for every one, not one has sold. But both the radios - the first, a Crosley, cool, retro, but not working, then a week later the same buyer called to make an offer on the Motorola. The only interest, both sold on the first inquiry.
Vintage Motorola Clock Radio, sold for $10.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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And so 2 weeks until I start back at the restaurant (the one of infamy, of so many derisive posts) - a 2 month contract to replace the nephew who has to return to Italy to renew his work permit. Temporary Work Permit, as he's a Temporary Foreign Worker.
2 Weeks of unbudgeted unemployment, a bum leg on the mend, but I've got $5.00 in my pocket and need work, I head to Temps.
There are no familiar faces behind the counter, the receptionists all new, I'm there by 7:00 AM, sign in, there's perhaps 50 other men there.
Eavesdropping - work is hard to come by, most of these guys are only getting half days unloading trucks, "swamping", they're pissed. The same men as always, or not the same, but in all groups there are patterns...One, perhaps the brightest looking of the lot, (he's shaved this week) is making tiny notes on a post it and storing under the table, tiny, minute handwriting. I should have brought a notebook. They're all watching the TV.
Time passes, few jobs are coming in, people wait, they've got nothing but time. Our tables are close to the TV, the news, the same as always, murder, assault, and grim news for the economy, followed up with a chaser on a surgeon who's built a "bionic eye", then the human interest. A magician does a trick, lowers a rope into a bag, the rope magically knots itself around a card the presenter picked earlier.
Cribbed Notes has a theory, the bag is too small, the cards weren't mixed up properly. He knows how he did it.
"But how did he get the rope to tie itself around the card?" I ask.
He's puzzled. He hadn't thought about that, then explains that he could figure it out if he could see inside the bag.
Another temp is telling anyone who will listen that he just needs to buy the best computer going, 8 GB Ram minimum, and he'll program an app and sell it for 99 cents, expects to make millions. There was this kid in the states, 14 years old, made a dumb game that has penguins off collecting eggs, he made $4 million dollars in 3 weeks, he can do better than some dumb game with penguins...
The crowd is thinning, people are giving up. It's time for me as well, 8:30, I give up, this is the first time I've been here and not gotten work, but from the people here I can guess that I'm close to last on the list, as I leave to drive home the brakes fail completely, a bit edgy, a few pumps and they're back, but I've been meaning to look at them and that's the candle under my ass...