The Piano-Reclaim Your Voice

The Piano (can't embed video right now)

 "The Piano" is a critically acclaimed film directed by Jane Campion, released in 1993. The story is set in the mid-19th century and follows a mute woman named Ada McGrath, played by Holly Hunter, who travels to New Zealand with her daughter, Flora, for an arranged marriage to a settler named Alisdair Stewart (played by Sam Neill). Ada communicates through her piano, which is her only means of expression, and she deeply connects with music.

Upon arriving in New Zealand, Ada's piano is left on the beach, and Alisdair refuses to bring it to their home. This leads Ada to form an unconventional relationship with a local Maori man named George Baines, portrayed by Harvey Keitel, who is fascinated by her music. The film explores themes of desire, communication, cultural conflict, and the complexities of love and power dynamics.

"The Piano" received numerous awards, including the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, making Jane Campion the first woman to win this prestigious award. The film is celebrated for its strong performances, particularly by Hunter, who won an Academy Award for Best Actress. Its cinematography and score, composed by Michael Nyman, also received critical acclaim, contributing to the film's emotional depth and atmospheric storytelling.

In "The Piano," the act of George Baines chopping off Ada's finger is a pivotal moment that holds deep significance both narratively and thematically. This violent act serves several critical functions:

1. Symbol of Power and Control: The act of mutilation symbolizes the oppressive dynamics in Ada's life. Throughout the film, her piano represents her voice and agency; by severing her finger, Baines attempts to exert control over her. This brutality underscores the themes of power, ownership, and the struggle for autonomy, especially within the confines of a patriarchal society.

2. Loss of Expression: Ada’s piano playing is her primary means of communication, a way for her to express her emotions and desires. Losing her finger not only physically limits her ability to play but also represents a deeper loss of her voice and identity. It highlights the consequences of oppression and how personal trauma can strip away one’s means of expression.

3. Catalyst for Transformation: This moment acts as a turning point for Ada. Following this trauma, she is forced to confront her circumstances and her relationships with both Baines and Stewart. The loss of her finger leads to a reevaluation of her choices and the dynamics between the characters. It prompts Ada to seek a different kind of freedom, challenging her to navigate her trauma and ultimately find her own path.

4. Cultural Conflict: The act also highlights the tensions between European settlers and the Indigenous Maori people, represented by Baines. Baines's actions reflect not only personal desire but also the broader conflicts of colonization, dominance, and cultural misunderstandings.

5. Emotional Impact: This moment is emotionally shocking and serves to engage the audience on a visceral level. It provokes a strong reaction and compels viewers to empathize with Ada’s plight. The brutality contrasts sharply with the beauty of her music and the film's visual aesthetic, deepening the emotional resonance of her struggle.

Overall, the finger-chopping incident in "The Piano" is a crucial moment that underscores the film's exploration of themes such as power, loss, identity, and the complexities of human relationships within a cultural context. It emphasizes the resilience of the human spirit in the face of profound trauma.

The ending of "The Piano" is poignant and layered with symbolism, particularly through the creation of a metal finger for Ada, which allows her to play the piano again. Here’s a closer look at its significance:

1. Resilience and Adaptation: The metal finger symbolizes Ada's resilience and ability to adapt after her traumatic experience. Despite the physical and emotional pain she endures, this makeshift solution represents her determination to reclaim her identity and passion for music. It signifies a new beginning and a way for her to reconnect with her art and herself.

2. Reclamation of Voice: By being able to play the piano again, Ada reclaims her voice after losing her ability to express herself fully. The piano had always been her primary means of communication, and the metal finger allows her to regain a crucial part of that connection. This moment emphasizes the importance of self-expression and the lengths to which she will go to preserve it.

3. Transformation of Trauma: The metal finger also represents a transformation of trauma into something that can empower Ada. While the act of violence from Baines resulted in a loss, the creation of the metal finger transforms that loss into a tool for artistic expression. This underscores the film's theme of finding strength in vulnerability and using painful experiences as a source of creativity and resilience.

4. Symbol of Collaboration: The metal finger can be seen as a collaborative effort between Ada and Baines. Despite the violence and tumultuous nature of their relationship, this moment reflects a shift in their dynamic. Baines assists her in regaining her musical ability, suggesting a complex bond that incorporates both tenderness and struggle. It serves as a reminder of the multifaceted nature of their connection and the potential for healing through shared experiences.

5. Hope and Renewal: The final scene of Ada playing the piano with her new finger is imbued with a sense of hope and renewal. It signifies a moment of triumph over adversity, suggesting that despite the suffering she has endured, there is still beauty to be found in life. The act of playing the piano again serves as a testament to her strength and the possibility of moving forward, even after profound loss.

In conclusion, the ending of "The Piano," with Ada’s metal finger, encapsulates the film’s exploration of themes such as resilience, identity, and the transformative power of art. It offers a sense of closure while simultaneously opening the door to new possibilities for Ada, highlighting her enduring spirit and capacity for healing through music.

The Harsh Reality of SROs: From Temporary Lodging to Long-Term Struggle

 Single Room Occupancy (SRO) housing is a term that many in Vancouver and other cities have become familiar with, but few truly understand the history behind these buildings and how they came to be in the condition they are today. Originally built as temporary accommodations for workers in industries like logging and mining, SROs were never meant to serve as long-term homes for individuals and families. Today, they stand as a stark reminder of our society’s failure to provide adequate, affordable housing for all.

A Look Back: SROs and Their Original Purpose

In the early 20th century, SROs served a very specific purpose. They were designed to house single men, many of whom were transient workers like loggers, miners, and laborers. These men would come to the city between jobs, needing a cheap, simple place to stay for short periods of time. SROs offered just that—small, individual rooms without kitchens or bathrooms. The rooms were affordable because they provided only the bare minimum: a bed, four walls, and shared bathroom facilities down the hall.

For workers who spent most of their time out in the field, these minimal accommodations were enough for their short stays. They didn’t need luxury or long-term comfort. They were simply looking for a roof over their heads before returning to their labor-intensive jobs.

The Shift: From Temporary to Permanent

As industries changed and Vancouver’s economy evolved, so did the purpose of these buildings. With the rise in housing costs and limited affordable options, SROs increasingly became the only option for low-income individuals and families. Instead of being used for short stays between work, they became permanent homes for people who had nowhere else to go.

But here’s the problem: SROs were never designed to support long-term living. They weren’t built to accommodate families or even individuals who would call them home for years on end. These buildings, already old and poorly maintained, began to deteriorate. Shared bathrooms, which might have been manageable for a transient workforce, became unsanitary and overcrowded as more and more people began using them daily. The lack of kitchens forces many residents to rely on takeout or food that requires no preparation, which further strains their budgets and health.

For those who live in SROs today, the conditions are deplorable. Imagine trying to maintain your mental and physical health in a small, often filthy room with no privacy, no cooking facilities, and shared bathrooms that are rarely cleaned. Add to this the social isolation and stigma associated with living in an SRO, and it’s no surprise that many residents face severe mental health challenges and struggle to break free from this cycle of poverty.

The Consequences: A System Failing Its Most Vulnerable

The shift from temporary lodging to long-term housing in SROs speaks to a larger problem: the failure to provide adequate, affordable housing in cities like Vancouver. Instead of investing in better solutions, we’ve allowed these buildings to become the last resort for some of the most vulnerable members of our society.

No one should have to live in an SRO. These spaces, originally built for loggers and laborers to stay briefly between jobs, are now trapping people in conditions that no human being should have to endure. The mental and emotional toll is immense. When your home is dirty, unsafe, and dehumanizing, it becomes nearly impossible to focus on anything other than survival.

What Needs to Change

If we want to address the housing crisis, we must start by recognizing that SROs are not a solution. These buildings need to be either significantly renovated or replaced with real affordable housing options that offer dignity and safety to their residents. The people living in SROs deserve homes where they can thrive, not just survive.

At the same time, we need to invest in mental health support, addiction services, and social programs that can help lift people out of poverty and prevent them from being forced into these conditions in the first place. SROs are a symptom of a much larger problem, but they also highlight how urgently we need change.

Conclusion

It’s time to acknowledge that SROs were never meant to be long-term housing. Their origins as temporary lodging for workers have been forgotten, and they’ve become yet another way that society has failed to care for its most vulnerable. By understanding the history of SROs, we can better grasp why their current use is so harmful—and why it’s crucial that we push for real, lasting solutions to the housing crisis.

The True Cost of SROs in Vancouver – Reimagining Housing Solutions

 Over a span of just five years, five affordable housing properties in Vancouver classified as Single Room Occupancy (SRO) generated a staggering 30,904 calls for policing services. These properties, often used by the most vulnerable in society, reflect a system that is broken and unsustainable—both for those living in these unhealthy environments and for the public resources being spent to manage their fallout.

The Hidden Costs of SROs

Each time an emergency response is dispatched—whether it’s for policing, fire services, or paramedics—it comes with a cost. Policing services in Vancouver are estimated to cost between $500 and $1,000 per call, depending on the complexity of the case. This means that for just five buildings over five years, policing alone likely cost between $15 million and $30 million. Add to that the cost of fire services and ambulance interventions, and the total figure becomes even more staggering.

But what are we really paying for? Not for long-term solutions, but for reactive measures that do little to address the root causes of these emergencies—mental health crises, substance abuse, and unsafe living conditions in dilapidated housing.

Reallocating Funds for Real Change

Instead of spending millions of dollars on reactive emergency services, what if we redirected those funds toward proactive housing solutions? Consider this: Vancouver has thousands of vacant condos, and the cost to house someone in a tiny home or modular housing is a fraction of what is spent on policing these SROs.

Rather than funneling money into managing the symptoms of poverty, we could use these funds to build healthy, sustainable housing environments. Modular homes or temporary housing in vacant condos would not only provide immediate relief for those suffering in SROs but also reduce the need for constant emergency interventions.

The Problem with Non-Profits

Non-profits like S.U.C.C.E.S.S, which claim to provide affordable housing, often make the qualification process so difficult that it feels inaccessible for many of the people who need it most. These organizations sometimes focus more on their operational requirements or securing funding than actually addressing the housing crisis equitably. This is why some affordable housing units remain empty or underutilized, while homelessness and housing insecurity continue to rise.

Who Really Benefits from SROs?

Another issue is the for-profit model that some landlords use to exploit vulnerable tenants. Many SRO owners perform only minor cosmetic upgrades to their properties, just enough to raise rents significantly without providing real improvements. This disinvestment in affordable housing forces residents to live in deplorable conditions while profits rise for the property owners.

We must move away from this model of housing, where people are treated as profit centers rather than human beings deserving of dignity and safety. By doing so, we can disrupt the cycle of poverty and provide real hope for the future.

A Call for Action: A Better Way Forward

The solution lies in diverting resources away from emergency responses and policing toward constructive, long-term housing solutions. This could include:

Temporary use of vacant condos: Until permanent housing can be built, people should not be forced to live in squalor.

Building tiny homes or modular housing: These are affordable, sustainable solutions that have already proven successful in other cities.

Enforcing rent controls and preventing speculation: Rent hikes for minor improvements shouldn't displace those in need. More stringent regulations are needed to protect vulnerable renters from exploitation.

By reallocating funds and rethinking how we address housing, we can save money in the long run and, more importantly, provide dignified living conditions for everyone.

It’s time to take action, not just by managing crises but by preventing them through smart investment in affordable housing.

What You Should Know About John Rustad

 John Rustad, who leads the Conservative Party of British Columbia, has faced criticism that raises concerns about his potential leadership as Premier. His political positions and actions highlight several key areas where his suitability for the role can be questioned.

1. Climate Change Denial: Rustad has been widely criticized for his views on climate change, including promoting skepticism about the science behind it. In a province that has experienced severe wildfires, floods, and other climate-related disasters, having a leader who downplays or dismisses climate science could hinder necessary environmental and sustainability efforts.

2. Shifting Political Alliances: Rustad was expelled from the BC Liberal (now BC United) caucus after his controversial views on climate change came to light. His switch to leading the BC Conservatives suggests opportunism rather than strong, consistent principles. His shifting loyalties raise questions about his long-term commitment to policy and party values.

3. Far-Right Policies: Under Rustad’s leadership, the BC Conservative Party has shifted toward more extreme, right-wing policies. These positions, such as opposing vaccine mandates and questioning climate action, can alienate moderate voters and undermine efforts to address pressing public health and environmental concerns.

4. Indigenous Relations: Rustad served as Minister of Aboriginal Relations and Reconciliation from 2013 to 2017. While he did advocate for some reconciliation initiatives, critics argue that his overall approach lacked meaningful engagement with Indigenous communities and focused more on economic development than on addressing systemic issues like land rights and self-determination.

5. Policy Inconsistencies: Rustad’s political stance on issues like resource development, including logging and mining, reflects a tendency to prioritize short-term economic gains over long-term sustainability. This approach could exacerbate environmental degradation and harm future generations.

Given these concerns, Rustad's leadership may not align with the progressive, climate-conscious, and socially inclusive direction that many British Columbians seek for the future of the province. His positions and past record suggest that he may not be the best choice to lead BC in tackling its complex challenges.

David Eby’s Promises vs. Reality: What Happened to Affordable Housing and BC’s Debt?

 

Introduction:

When David Eby stepped in as Premier of BC, many—including myself—had high hopes for real change, particularly in housing affordability and tackling BC’s social challenges. Yet, as time goes on, there seems to be a growing disconnect between what was promised and what’s been delivered. Instead of a focus on actionable solutions, his communications team seems more interested in deflecting blame onto political opponents like John Rustad.

What Were the Promises?

During his leadership campaign and early days in office, David Eby promised to:

1. Tackle the housing crisis by creating more affordable housing and addressing supply issues.

2. Improve health care, particularly for seniors, with better access to long-term care and support.

3. Build a sustainable economy by utilizing the provincial surplus to invest in key areas like infrastructure, social programs, and public services.

Many of us believed these promises would lead to concrete changes in our everyday lives—particularly in finding affordable places to live. But as time has gone on, it seems like those promises haven’t materialized in the way we expected.

The Reality Today: What Has Been Accomplished?

While there have been efforts on the housing front—like plans for more modular housing and attempts to curb speculation—the results have been underwhelming for many of us trying to find affordable rentals. Housing prices continue to climb, and rent remains unaffordable for too many people. Despite efforts, the housing crisis still feels like it’s getting worse, not better.

On top of that, BC has now gone from having a budget surplus to facing a growing debt. People are asking, "Where did the money go?" How did a province with a surplus end up in this position so quickly? And what are we getting in return?

Where’s the Accountability?

Instead of owning up to these challenges and directly addressing what’s gone wrong, Eby’s social media team seems to focus on attacking opponents like John Rustad, which does little to reassure voters. Deflecting blame and turning political disagreements into the main narrative is only distancing people who are struggling with real issues—like unaffordable housing, poor health care access, and rising costs.

What Should Be Done?

It's time for transparency. Eby’s team needs to step up and:

1. Clearly outline what has been accomplished versus what remains unfinished from the promises he made.

2. Explain the debt situation: How did we go from a surplus to a deficit? What investments were made, and how do they benefit British Columbians in the long run?

3. Refocus on solutions, not political battles. People don’t want to hear about Rustad or the BC United Party—they want to know what’s being done to make their lives better now.

Conclusion:

David Eby has an opportunity to regain trust, but it starts with owning up to the realities and focusing on real solutions instead of political posturing. It’s time for our leaders to show accountability, deliver on their promises, and provide hope to those of us still waiting for the changes we were promised.

Why I Always Vote Green, and Why You Should Keep the Faith in Change

Why I Always Vote Green, and Why You Should Keep the Faith in Change

In a world that seems increasingly divided and uncertain, it can be easy to feel disillusioned with politics. We've all seen promises broken, priorities skewed, and decisions made that favor special interests over the public good. Despite this, I still vote Green every time, and here's why.

Staying True to My Values

The Green Party represents values that I hold close—sustainability, social justice, and ethical governance. Even though they often don't win, voting Green allows me to stay true to my beliefs. Voting for the environment and for a system that prioritizes people over profits matters deeply to me, and I believe every Green vote is a statement that these issues can't be ignored.

We Did Have a Green-DP Coalition

It’s important to remember that we did make history with a Green-DP coalition in British Columbia in 2017. The Green Party, though small, played a crucial role in holding the balance of power and pushing for key policies on climate action, electoral reform, and Indigenous rights. This moment showed that with perseverance, even a smaller party can influence the bigger picture. If we give up on voting for what we believe in, we risk losing that influence.

Good Can Still Conquer Bad

It’s easy to be cynical. But I hold onto hope because I believe that good can still conquer the bad. We've seen it in grassroots movements, in communities coming together for change, and in the small but significant victories Greens have achieved—whether it's fighting pipelines, advocating for affordable housing, or speaking up for a future that works for everyone, not just the wealthy few.

Change might seem slow, but it starts with each of us. Every Green vote counts. It might not always result in a win, but it sends a powerful message that people care about a sustainable, fair, and just future. We need to keep voting, keep talking, and most of all, keep believing that good governance is possible.

We Must Not Elect Those Who Spread Hate: A Call to Reject Racist Candidates

As we approach the upcoming election, it’s vital to carefully examine the character and past actions of those who seek to represent us. The recent revelations about Brent Chapman, the BC Conservative candidate for Surrey South, are alarming. His history of making deeply offensive and Islamophobic remarks on social media should give us all pause.

In 2015, Chapman posted comments that were not only derogatory but harmful, describing Palestinian children as “inbred walking talking breathing time bombs”. Despite issuing a public apology, the damage caused by these words cannot be erased so easily. While everyone makes mistakes, comments that perpetuate hate against entire communities are not small slip-ups—they are dangerous reflections of deeply ingrained prejudice.

The role of an elected official is to serve all citizens with integrity and fairness. Allowing someone with a track record of hate speech to hold public office is not only irresponsible but sets a precedent that such behavior is tolerable in our political system. It isn't just about the apology; it’s about the values that individual represents and the trust that voters place in their elected officials. Leaders should build bridges, not fuel division.

David Eby, BC’s Premier, was clear in his criticism, labeling Chapman’s past remarks as potential criminal hate speech. The National Council of Canadian Muslims (NCCM) also expressed deep concern, although they acknowledged Chapman's apology, urging him and the BC Conservatives to take concrete actions to address Islamophobia. Yet, despite the outcry, Chapman remains in the race, and his party’s leadership, including John Rustad, has opted to stand by him.

It’s important to recognize that while Chapman has apologized, the question remains whether his values have truly changed or whether this is merely an attempt to salvage his campaign. Can we risk electing someone with such a problematic history into a position of power? The stakes are too high. We need leaders who unequivocally stand against all forms of racism, bigotry, and hate.

By electing candidates like Chapman, we signal that racism can be overlooked, that Islamophobia can be excused, and that hate has a place in our institutions. This is not the future we want for British Columbia or for Canada. We must reject such behavior, hold our leaders accountable, and ensure that those who seek public office are people who truly represent the values of inclusivity, respect, and justice.

What You Can Do

1. Vote: Use your voice at the ballot box to reject candidates who have a history of spreading hate.

2. Stay Informed: Follow reliable news outlets and organizations like the NCCM that are actively working to combat hate and discrimination.

3. Engage: Talk to friends, family, and neighbors about why these issues matter. Ensure that the conversation around racism, especially in politics, remains at the forefront.

We deserve better from our leaders. Let’s stand united against hate and ensure that those elected into office reflect the values of our diverse and vibrant communities.

: A Cry for Help in a Digital World: The Heartbreaking Struggles of Our Youth

I recently came across a video that left me heartbroken and disturbed. In it, a trans person—presenting as a young woman—was speaking to her parents about her body, about how much she hated it. The pain in her voice was palpable as she explained that something, or someone, had convinced her that the solution was to "go digital." She wanted to escape her body and become something beyond physical, something entirely virtual.

Her parents, clearly shocked and devastated, tried to process what she was saying. At one point, they even asked, "So you want to kill yourself?" She quickly responded, "No, I will be digital," as if being digital meant she could exist without the pain she felt in her current body. It was a gut-wrenching moment, a window into the deep confusion, anguish, and pressure that many young people feel today.

It’s impossible to ignore the role the internet, social media, and even Big Pharma play in shaping our perceptions of ourselves, especially among the younger generation. Kids today are growing up bombarded by images, ideals, and advertisements that tell them they’re not good enough, that they need to change or “fix” themselves to be accepted. It’s no wonder that so many of them feel lost or broken.

When COVID hit, and schools closed, the isolation only worsened for many kids. With no face-to-face socialization, they turned to the internet for connection, guidance, and a sense of belonging. But what they often found online was a toxic mix of impossible standards and quick fixes—messages that made them feel even more alienated from their true selves.

The person in the video seemed to be reaching for something beyond their pain, something they believed would offer them an escape from the body they couldn’t stand to live in. But the reality is that no amount of technology or medical intervention can replace the need for deep emotional care, compassion, and understanding. The drive to become "digital" may have been a metaphor for wanting to escape this world—a world where they felt trapped and misunderstood.

This story also hits close to home for me. Someone in my own family, who was trans, took their life. The loss has stayed with me, and I see the same pain in others who are struggling with their identities. The pressure to fit into a world that doesn't always accept or understand them is too much for some, and I worry every day for those I love who may be facing similar battles.

As a society, we need to do more than just offer medical solutions or push people to conform to certain ideals. We need to listen—truly listen—to the cries for help. We need to provide safe spaces for our youth to express their struggles without fear of judgment or ridicule. And we need affordable mental health care, not just for those who can afford it, but for everyone, because no one should feel like their only option is to leave their body behind.

If you're reading this and you're struggling, know that you're not alone. There are people who care, even when it feels like the world is pushing you in directions you don't want to go. You are enough as you are, and your life matters, in any form it takes.

---

Ending Note: If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please reach out to a trusted friend, family member, or a mental health professional. There are also hotlines available for immediate support: 

Here are the emergency numbers and helplines for British Columbia, Canada, the US, and Mexico:

British Columbia, Canada

Crisis Centre of BC:

Phone: 1-800-784-2433

Website: Crisis Centre of BC

Kids Help Phone:

Phone: 1-800-668-6868

Text: Text CONNECT to 686868

Website: Kids Help Phone

Canada (National)

Talk Suicide Canada:

Phone: 1-833-456-4566 (24/7)

Text: 45645 (4 PM – 12 AM Eastern Time)

Website: Talk Suicide Canada

United States

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

Phone: 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) (24/7)

Website: suicidepreventionlifeline.org

Crisis Text Line:

Text: HOME to 741741 (24/7)

Website: Crisis Text Line

Mexico

SAPTEL (Servicio de Apoyo Psicológico a Distancia):

Phone: 800-472-7835 (24/7)

Website: SAPTEL (Click on "SAPTEL" for more info)

National Suicide Prevention Helpline:

Phone: 800-911-2000 (24/7)

If you or anyone you know needs immediate help, please don’t hesitate to reach out to these resources. They are there to provide support and assistance.

Vancouver’s Empty Condos: A Temporary Solution to the Housing Crisis?

Vancouver's housing crisis has reached an unbearable tipping point. Walk through any neighborhood, and you'll see the towering glass buildings of newly built condos—gleaming symbols of wealth and privilege. Yet, if you look closer, many of these units are empty. Meanwhile, people are struggling to find a place to call home.

It’s not just people battling addiction or mental health issues who are homeless. Many are just like you and me, trying to make ends meet in a city where the cost of living has outpaced wages. It's time to consider bold, compassionate solutions to address this growing crisis.

The Problem of Empty Condos

As Vancouver’s skyline grows, so does the number of empty condos. These luxury units, often built for investors or used as speculative assets, remain unoccupied while people sleep on the streets below. The building at Granville and Broadway is one such example—finished but sitting empty. It’s a stark reminder of how resources are misallocated, and how those in need are left to fend for themselves.

The number of empty homes and condos in Vancouver has become a glaring issue. According to reports, thousands of units sit unused, while over 2,000 people experience homelessness in the city. What if these condos, which stand as symbols of wealth inequality, could be repurposed for the greater good?

A Compassionate Temporary Solution: Repurposing Empty Condos

Here’s a radical, yet simple idea: use those empty condos to house people temporarily. Before dismissing this as unrealistic, consider how quickly governments responded during the COVID-19 pandemic. They converted hotels into temporary shelters. Why can’t we use the same approach for housing now?

The idea would not be permanent. Instead, empty condos could provide a safe, warm place for people to stay while more long-term, sustainable housing solutions are developed—such as tiny homes or affordable apartments in smaller buildings. The condos could be returned to their owners once everyone is housed elsewhere, and the crisis has been addressed.

This isn’t about commandeering private property unjustly, but about finding ethical, compassionate ways to use our resources to address an urgent need. Developers, landlords, and the government could work together to make this happen, recognizing that housing is a human right—not just a luxury commodity.

Why It Could Work

The COVID-19 pandemic showed us how quickly governments can act in a crisis. Hotels were repurposed, emergency shelters were established, and support services were mobilized. Why not take the lessons we learned and apply them to the ongoing housing crisis?

If the city of Vancouver, in partnership with building owners and non-profit organizations, were to allocate some of these empty condos for temporary housing, we could address a major part of the crisis almost immediately. Proper services and support could be provided alongside housing, ensuring that people are treated with dignity and respect, not just warehoused.

The Long-Term Vision: Tiny Houses and Affordable Living

While using empty condos temporarily is a step in the right direction, we need to be thinking long-term. A sustainable solution could involve building more affordable, smaller housing units—like tiny houses. Tiny homes have gained traction worldwide as a cost-effective, community-centered alternative to traditional housing. They allow people to live with dignity, and provide an opportunity for rebuilding lives in a more stable, caring environment.

By prioritizing affordable housing and community-driven solutions over luxury condos for the wealthy, Vancouver could become a city that works for everyone—not just the rich.

Call to Action

This isn’t just a dream or a far-off vision; it’s something that could be achieved with political will and community support. If you're concerned about the state of housing in Vancouver, now is the time to speak up. Reach out to local government representatives, share this idea with friends and neighbors, and support grassroots movements that are fighting for housing justice.

Together, we can create a city where no one is left behind, and everyone has a place to call home.

Conclusion

Vancouver doesn’t have a shortage of buildings or housing units—it has a shortage of empathy and political courage. Repurposing empty condos, even temporarily, could be the first step in addressing the deep inequalities that have left so many people without a roof over their heads. Let’s push for bold solutions that prioritize people over profit, and work towards a future where housing is a right for all, not just a privilege for the few.

Cars are a BIG problem

I asked AI why things are so complicated and why there's so many cars and people now and here is the response 

 Your reflection ties together some important themes that really illustrate the tensions of our times—technological progress, economic disparities, and the shifting role of the car in our lives. Let’s break it down and explore how we’ve arrived at this point.

The car has always been more than just a mode of transportation. It’s been a symbol of freedom, independence, and security, especially for women. Your experience of needing a car for safety, and the real dangers that came with hitchhiking, speaks to how the automobile came to represent a way of life for many. Cars, in a sense, provided a sense of autonomy and protection in a world where walking or relying on others could be risky.

But the landscape has changed dramatically since those early years when cars like the VW Bug were affordable and even attainable on a modest budget. The skyrocketing cost of living, including housing, has collided with the rising prices of cars—many of which now cost as much as a small home once did. This shift is part of a broader economic transformation that started well before the Great Depression but accelerated in its aftermath.

Henry Ford’s development of the assembly line and mass production during the early 20th century revolutionized how cars were made. By making cars cheaper and more accessible, Ford and others like him contributed to the rise of the car culture that dominates today. But with that came unforeseen consequences—urban sprawl, reliance on oil, and the eventual depletion of affordable, sustainable transportation options. The effects rippled out to shape entire economies, industries, and ways of living.

During the Great Depression, the government pushed large infrastructure projects (like highways and pipelines) to create jobs and stimulate the economy. This was when the car became essential for survival, especially in areas like rural Canada where public transit was sparse. Fast forward to today, and those infrastructure projects continue, such as the pipelines you mentioned, where environmental and social concerns are often overruled by economic arguments. Protests were effectively shut down during the pandemic, and there was little room for public discourse about the long-term impact.

At the same time, immigration policies have rapidly increased the population, particularly in urban centers like Surrey. With more people and fewer housing solutions, the car remains a necessity for many, even though the costs have become astronomical. The pandemic exposed deep economic fractures, but instead of addressing those structural issues—homelessness, drug addiction, and wealth inequality—we’re seeing a rise in conspicuous wealth and an increase in people sleeping in their cars or struggling to afford basic necessities.

It feels like we’ve gone full circle, where people are once again trapped in cycles of poverty and insecurity. Cars that once provided a way out now symbolize the growing gap between those who can afford the modern conveniences of life and those who can’t. The pandemic seemed to accelerate these trends—more people on the streets, and more luxury cars in driveways.

In many ways, the culture of consumerism and over-reliance on automobiles reflects a society that prioritizes profit over people. Those at the top, the “rich people who do not care” as you put it, seem increasingly disconnected from the struggles of everyday citizens. This disconnection is a symptom of a larger system that rewards wealth accumulation over community welfare.

So, how did we get here? It’s a complex mixture of history, economics, and technological shifts. The car, once a symbol of freedom, has become a marker of inequality. The housing crisis, coupled with job precarity and inadequate social safety nets, has left millions in a state of uncertainty. And in the midst of all this, we see a society deeply divided, with those who have far too much and those who have far too little.

It’s a cycle that needs breaking—whether through better urban planning, more equitable policies, or a rethinking of how we structure our economies. The current trajectory, however, suggests that without significant intervention, these problems will only deepen.

The Power of Rest and Care: Changing How We Respond to Illness

The Power of Rest and Care: Changing How We Respond to Illness

We live in a society that glorifies pushing through sickness—where rest is seen as a weakness and pausing is almost impossible. Yet, as we've learned through the pandemic, this mindset is not only unsustainable but dangerous. I want to share a simple but powerful message: when you're sick, stop and rest.

When we feel a sore throat, fatigue, or other signs of illness, instead of soldiering on, we need to give our bodies the time they need to heal. It’s heartbreaking to watch as people who are sick feel guilty for being unwell. The fear and paranoia that surrounds illnesses like COVID-19 have only deepened the isolation for those who need our care the most. But we can change this.

Here are some reminders for when illness strikes, whether it's COVID or any other sickness:

Rest: Listen to your body. If you're tired or feeling unwell, lie down, sleep, and allow your body to heal.

Hydrate: Drink plenty of water, herbal teas (ginger, mint, chamomile), and soothing broths.

Use Natural Remedies: Honey, eucalyptus oil, lavender oil, and ginger teas can all provide comfort and help with symptoms.

Warm Baths: Take a hot bath to soothe muscles, clear sinuses, and relax.

Medications if Needed: Use Tylenol or other over-the-counter medicine for fever or discomfort—but don’t forget that rest is the most powerful remedy.

It's sad that we're often too busy or pressured to slow down when we're unwell, but we must change this. We shouldn’t fear illness or make people feel guilty for getting sick. Instead, we should create a culture that embraces rest, care, and compassion. COVID has taught us a lot about how fragile health can be, but it also gives us a chance to rethink how we treat ourselves and each other.

The next time you feel sick or see someone struggling, remember that the best thing you can do is stop and rest. It's not just about healing; it’s about being kind to your body and allowing yourself the care you deserve. And it’s about giving others the grace to do the same.

Skyscrapers Are Not The Answer

 I asked AI how we can explain why we need different housing in Vancouver and BC

Your perspective on housing is insightful, especially when considering the realities of climate change and the adaptability of different architectural styles. The argument about whether climate change exists becomes irrelevant when we can see tangible changes in weather patterns and environmental conditions. It’s essential to focus on adapting to these changes, particularly in the way we build our homes.

Advantages of Courtyard Homes in Mexico and Spain

In Mexico, the traditional courtyard-style home, also known as a casa de patio, and similar structures in Spain offer several advantages:

1. Natural Ventilation: Courtyards allow for cross-ventilation, keeping homes cool without the need for energy-consuming air conditioning. In hot climates, this is an essential way to regulate temperature.

2. Shade and Cooling: The courtyard offers shaded areas during the day, while the open space allows for heat to escape upwards in the evening, cooling the house naturally.

3. Privacy and Security: Courtyards provide a private outdoor space that is enclosed within the home, adding a sense of safety and seclusion.

4. Connection with Nature: Having a courtyard can help residents stay connected to nature by including plants, trees, or small gardens, which can also improve mental well-being and air quality.

5. Rainwater Harvesting: In some designs, courtyards can help channel rainwater for collection, offering a sustainable way to deal with water shortages.

In Bucerías, as you mentioned, roofs often have a cupola (the small dome at the top) or similar architectural elements that help with heat management. These designs allow hot air to rise and escape, creating a natural cooling system without the need for mechanical ventilation.

Critique of Modern Skyscrapers and High-Rise Buildings

In contrast, modern skyscrapers, especially those with glass exteriors, are poorly suited to withstand the changing environment and potential energy crises:

1. Energy Dependency: High-rise buildings rely heavily on electricity for elevators, heating, cooling, and even water pumping. In the event of a prolonged blackout or natural disaster, they become uninhabitable. People cannot safely move between floors without elevators, and maintaining temperature becomes impossible without power.

2. Thermal Inefficiency: Glass buildings are notorious for being thermal traps. They either overheat in the summer, necessitating constant air conditioning, or lose heat rapidly in the winter, increasing heating costs. This is not sustainable, especially as temperatures become more extreme.

3. Vulnerability in Disasters: While high-rise buildings may withstand initial tremors in an earthquake, as you mentioned, they often sustain damage to water pipes, electrical systems, and structural elements, rendering them uninhabitable. Evacuating people from such tall structures is another challenge in these situations.

The Leaky Condo Crisis: A Vancouver Lesson

The leaky condo crisis in Vancouver is an important cautionary tale. When developers used Californian construction techniques in a damp, coastal environment like Vancouver’s, the buildings weren’t equipped to handle the rain and moisture. Condos began to leak, causing extensive damage. This issue resulted in people losing their life savings trying to repair their homes. The lesson here is that adopting building techniques from one region without considering the local climate can have devastating consequences. It also highlights the need for durability and flexibility in design, which is increasingly important as weather patterns change.

Why Tiny Houses and Courtyard Designs Make Sense Today

Given these considerations, tiny houses and courtyard designs are not only more sustainable but also more resilient to both natural disasters and energy shortages:

1. Energy Efficiency: Tiny homes use fewer resources to build and maintain, and they are easier to heat, cool, and power. Their small size also encourages the use of renewable energy sources like solar panels.

2. Mobility and Adaptability: Tiny homes are often mobile, allowing people to relocate them if necessary, whether due to climate change, natural disasters, or changes in land use.

3. Community Building: Tiny house villages, often built with shared resources and community spaces, encourage a more sustainable way of living. This can foster resilience and self-sufficiency, as neighbors can support each other in times of need.

4. Climate Adaptation: Designs that incorporate natural elements like courtyards, open spaces, or natural cooling mechanisms (such as cupolas) help reduce the energy needed to maintain comfortable living conditions. They also protect against the heat-trapping effects of urban environments, which are increasingly problematic as cities become hotter.

Looking Forward

We need to think critically about the future of housing, especially in urban areas like Vancouver. By revisiting traditional building methods that take advantage of natural processes (like courtyard homes and climate-adapted roofs), we can create homes that are both more sustainable and resilient.

At the same time, adopting tiny houses and alternative living arrangements can offer solutions to both affordability and sustainability issues, allowing us to build commun

ities that are better prepared for the challenges of tomorrow.

Hoarding of Wealth Illness

 I asked AI to help me understand why humans do this because animals don't.

You're right that hoarding, particularly wealth hoarding, seems to be a deeply ingrained human behavior, yet it's distinct from the natural world where animals generally take only what they need to survive. Understanding how we got to this point requires looking at history, psychology, and the systems that have incentivized this behavior.

Historical Roots of Hoarding and Wealth Accumulation

1. Survival Instincts: In early human societies, hoarding might have developed as a survival mechanism. In times of scarcity, gathering and saving resources was essential for survival. However, as societies became more complex and agriculture allowed for surplus, the ability to hoard wealth and resources grew, moving beyond necessity.

2. Rise of Private Property: Once humans shifted from nomadic lifestyles to settled agricultural societies, the concept of private property emerged. With it came the idea that land, goods, and resources could be owned and passed down. This intensified the drive to accumulate, as wealth was no longer just for survival but also for power and influence.

3. Capitalism and Industrialization: With the advent of capitalism, especially during the Industrial Revolution, wealth accumulation became institutionalized. The focus shifted to profit maximization, which encouraged hoarding wealth not just to meet needs but to generate more wealth. This system incentivized a few to amass fortunes while many were left with little.

4. Psychological Factors: At the individual level, hoarding behaviors, whether it's material possessions or wealth, can be linked to psychological insecurity, fear of loss, or a desire for control. Wealth hoarders, in particular, may see their wealth as a symbol of success, power, and security, driving them to accumulate more even when it becomes destructive.

5. Cultural Reinforcement: Over time, society began to glorify wealth and material success. We live in a culture that often equates worth with what we own and earn, leading to unhealthy obsessions with accumulating more. This is reinforced by media, advertising, and societal norms that push us toward consumption and excess.

6. Inequitable Systems: Our economic systems, especially under neoliberalism, have amplified this. Tax structures, deregulation, and political lobbying have allowed wealth to concentrate in fewer hands. Rather than circulating wealth to improve societal well-being, it becomes hoarded in offshore accounts, real estate, or investments.

Why Animals Don't Hoard

Animals live within ecosystems where they take only what they need, ensuring the balance of nature is maintained. There are exceptions, like squirrels storing food for winter, but their behavior is driven by survival, not excess. Animals don’t hoard beyond their needs because the natural world operates on principles of balance and sustainability.

Humans, on the other hand, have developed systems that encourage hoarding—whether it's food, possessions, or wealth—because of our complex social structures and psychological makeup. But this behavior often spirals out of control, especially when driven by greed, power, and a lack of accountability.

How Did It Get So Out of Control?

1. Wealth as Power: Wealth has become synonymous with power. Those with money can influence political decisions, legal frameworks, and economic systems in ways that perpetuate their ability to hoard even more. This has created a cycle where the rich get richer, often at the expense of the majority.

2. Fear of Loss: For many, hoarding wealth stems from a deep fear of losing it. Economic crises, inflation, or job loss can lead individuals to believe they need to stockpile wealth to secure their futures, even if it means denying others basic necessities.

3. Lack of Accountability: In many cases, systems designed to prevent wealth hoarding (such as progressive taxation or regulations on monopolies) have been weakened or ignored. This allows wealth hoarders to accumulate without facing consequences, creating an ever-growing gap between the rich and the poor.

A Sickness of Society

While individual hoarding can be seen as a psychological issue, wealth hoarding on a societal scale represents a sickness of our systems and values. It's not just about the greed of individuals, but about the structures that allow and even reward such behavior. The result is a world where millions suffer from poverty, homelessness, and hunger, while a few hold more wealth than they could ever spend.

What Can We Do?

To address wealth hoarding, we need a combination of personal reflection and systemic change:

1. Cultural Shift: We must shift our values away from glorifying excessive wealth and consumption. Focusing on community well-being, sustainability, and fairness is key to challenging the mindset that hoarding is acceptable.

2. Policy Change: Progressive taxation, stronger regulations on monopolies, and wealth redistribution mechanisms can help. We need systems that encourage sharing of resources and prioritize human well-being over profits.

3. Raise Awareness: As you mentioned earlier, awareness campaigns are vital. By highlighting the impact of wealth hoarding and advocating for change, we can begin to break the cycle and push for a more equitable distribution of resources.

The drive to hoard, whether material items or wealth, may be part of human history, but it doesn’t have to define our future. By rethinking our values and systems, we can work towards a world where resources are shared and no one is left behind.

My Platform If I was Running for Premier

 If you were running for Premier and wanted to present a platform that prioritizes ending homelessness, community well-being, mental health, environmental sustainability, and education, here's a breakdown of a potential plan based on your vision:

1. Immediate Housing for All:

Housing First Model: Prioritize immediate housing for every homeless person, with a focus on affordable, accessible housing solutions. Create emergency shelters that transition to permanent housing quickly, with wraparound support services.

Reallocate Resources: Redirect funds from luxury real estate developments to social housing initiatives. Discourage the construction of ultra-luxury towers and large estates, instead focusing on developing mid-rise, community-centered, eco-friendly buildings.

Vacancy Tax Expansion: Implement stricter vacancy taxes on underutilized properties, particularly targeting speculative investments in housing.

2. Mental Health Care and Institutionalization:

Care and Safety: For individuals with severe violent mental illness, create humane, secure care institutions where they receive specialized treatment. Their rights must be protected, but they will be placed in environments where they cannot harm others. Focus on rehabilitation and therapy over punishment.

Community Mental Health Programs: Dramatically increase funding for mental health services that are preventative and accessible in communities, providing immediate care to prevent conditions from worsening.

3. Empowering Art, Gardening, and Sustainable Living:

Local Food Systems: Encourage urban and rural gardening, community farming, and local fisheries. Provide incentives for people to grow food locally, reducing food insecurity and promoting environmental sustainability.

Arts and Culture Promotion: Fund community art programs, public art installations, and arts education. This could help to heal trauma, improve mental health, and foster a sense of community.

Sustainable Living: Promote green living by encouraging the use of bikes and sustainable energy sources. Support initiatives where human energy powers devices like bikes powering washing machines, creating practical, green solutions that contribute to environmental goals.

4. Wealth Hoarding as a Social Issue:

Wealth Tax: Implement a progressive wealth tax, particularly targeting excessive real estate holdings and large financial portfolios. Use these funds to provide more equitable services and reduce income inequality.

Public Education Campaign: Launch a campaign highlighting the societal harm of wealth hoarding and the benefits of redistributing resources. Focus on wealth inequality as a systemic issue that leads to social and mental health problems.

5. Addressing Alcoholism, Alzheimer’s, and Related Diseases:

Public Health Education: Develop campaigns to educate the public on the links between alcohol consumption, mental health, and Alzheimer’s. Provide support to families dealing with these issues through better access to healthcare services and counseling.

Addiction Services: Create addiction treatment programs that are accessible and non-punitive, focusing on rehabilitation and reintegration into society.

6. Support for Women and Addressing Domestic Abuse:

Mental Health and Abuse Intervention Programs: Set up specialized support systems for women living with men suffering from mental illness or abusive behaviors. Provide safe spaces and shelters, but also offer therapy and rehabilitation services for abusive men.

Paid Gender and Mental Health Education: Offer financial incentives for both men and women to attend educational programs focused on gender relations, mental health, and personal development. Create a mandatory course on healthy relationships for all high school students.

7. Transforming Education:

Free and Accessible Education: Implement a policy where students are paid a living wage to attend school, making education truly accessible for all and encouraging lifelong learning.

Expanded Curriculum: Incorporate more psychology, anthropology, and social sciences into the education system so that young people develop a better understanding of the world, human behavior, and societal systems. Teach critical thinking and problem-solving skills.

Green Technology Programs: Encourage students to engage in green technology and sustainability projects. Create initiatives where students can invent solutions to environmental problems while earning credits or paid internships.

8. Economic Protection and Foreign Ownership:

Land Ownership Limits: Restrict the sale of land to foreign investors to ensure local communities maintain control over their real estate markets. Enforce stricter laws on foreign ownership of housing and businesses.

Support Local Employment: Implement policies that require businesses to hire local residents over foreign workers, with an emphasis on training programs to ensure locals have the skills needed for those jobs.

9. Green Energy and Sustainable Innovation:

Energy from Exercise: Support innovation in green energy, including the development of equipment like stationary bikes that generate electricity. This promotes healthy living while contributing to energy sustainability.

Green Geniuses Program: Create incentives for local inventors and engineers to develop green technologies that can be implemented across communities, schools, and public spaces.

10. Crime Prevention and Community Safety:

Rehabilitative Justice: Focus on restorative justice practices that rehabilitate offenders rather than relying on punitive measures. Create community-based programs where ex-offenders can contribute positively to society.

International Relations and Security: Given the issues raised by international espionage and crime, strengthen the vetting of foreign nationals entering the country, particularly in business and political roles, to prevent infiltration by criminal elements.

Your platform could offer a bold, community-centered approach to tackling homelessness, wealth inequality, mental health, and environmental sustainability while prioritizing education, women's rights, and public health reform. This kind of visionary approach would stand out by addressing the root causes of many societal issues in a holistic manner.

The Day the Power Went Out

AI and I wrote you spooky Halloween story. Boo!!!🤪😎😁

The Day the Power Went Out

Opening Scene:

INT. BATHROOM – NIGHT

(Steam fills the bathroom as LUCY, 30s, soaks in a tub. The water gleams under soft light. She leans back, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth.)

LUCY

(to herself, sighs)

Finally... some peace.

(CLOSE-UP on her face as the lights above her flicker. A subtle hum grows in the background. Then... silence. The lights blink out.)

(Cut to black.)

(She jerks upright, water splashing. The dim moonlight filters through the window.)

LUCY

What the...?

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

(She gets out of the tub, hurriedly drying herself off, tossing on comfortable clothes. Grabbing her phone off the nightstand, the glow of the screen illuminates her face.)

(Close-up of the phone screen: ALERT! ALERT!)

(Suddenly, the phone dies, leaving the room in darkness.)

LUCY

Okay, that's weird...

(She looks out the window. The entire block is pitch black. No streetlights. No sounds. Just a still, eerie silence.)

(Beat.)

(She pulls on a jacket and steps into the hallway, flicking the switch. Nothing. A growing sense of unease takes hold.)

---

INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT

(She grabs a flashlight from a drawer and heads toward the front door. She opens it, stepping out into the night. Her breath visible in the cool air.)

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD – NIGHT

(Every house is dark. Not even the hum of distant traffic. The world feels... too quiet. Lucy stands there, scanning the street, her breath shallow.)

LUCY

Hello...? Anyone?

(Cut to: overhead view of the neighborhood—complete darkness stretching for miles, under a starless sky.)

---

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

(She stumbles back inside, grabbing her phone again. She tries restarting it, but nothing. Then, she notices the faint flicker of light outside. Through the blinds, she sees her neighbor's house. Someone’s got a lantern or candle going.)

(She rushes out of her house and heads across the street. She knocks on the door.)

NEIGHBOR

(from inside, nervously)

Who is it?

LUCY

It's Lucy! What's going on? The power’s out everywhere.

NEIGHBOR

(through the door)

It's the whole city... or maybe more than that. I heard there's been a solar storm. Took out everything. No power grid. No electronics. It's just... gone.

LUCY

(a beat)

How long are we talking? Hours? Days?

NEIGHBOR

Maybe longer... much longer.

(Lucy's face changes as the weight of the situation hits her.)

---

NARRATION:

(Voiceover as the camera pans up toward the sky, beyond the neighborhood.)

LUCY (V.O.)

What none of us knew that night was that this wasn’t just another outage. The world had changed. For good. No one was ready for it. No power grids. No communication. No way to know who was out there. Or what was coming next...

(The camera pans out, revealing cities worldwide, dark and still.)

*************

The Day the Power Went Out

EXT. LUCY’S HOUSE – LATE MORNING

(Lucy stands on her porch, Max at her side, staring at the deserted street. A soft breeze rustles the trees, but there’s an eerie stillness, like the world is holding its breath. She sighs, rubbing Max's fur as she contemplates the reality of their new world.)

LUCY

(to Max)

Well, boy... guess we’re really on our own now.

(She heads inside, trying to distract herself from the growing dread. Max follows.)

---

INT. KITCHEN – LATE MORNING

(Lucy goes to the sink, twisting the faucet. For a moment, water flows out as normal. She fills a small bowl for Max, setting it down.)

LUCY

(attempting humor)

There you go, bud. Enjoy it while you can.

(She twists the faucet again, watching the stream slow, then sputter, until it stops entirely. Lucy frowns, staring at the now-dry spout.)

LUCY

Oh no...

(Quickly, she moves to the bathroom and tries the sink. Same result. The water pressure is completely gone. She slams the faucet shut, frustration bubbling over.)

LUCY

Of course... no power, no water...

---

INT. LIVING ROOM – AFTERNOON

(Sitting on the couch, Lucy cradles her head in her hands, thinking back to all the times she’d let the tap run without a second thought. She glances around the room, her eyes settling on the empty electrical outlets. The silence, once comforting, now feels suffocating.)

(Max watches her, sensing her distress.)

LUCY

(to Max)

I didn’t even think about it. We just... always had it. Water, lights, heat... everything. How did I never realize how fragile it all was?

(She gets up, pacing.)

LUCY

No electricity means no water. No fridges. No phones. No internet... no way to communicate with anyone outside of walking distance.

(She pauses at the window, looking out at the stillness beyond. The hum of modern life has vanished, leaving only a deep, empty quiet.)

---

NARRATION:

LUCY (V.O.)

I used to wake up and scroll through my phone before I even got out of bed. Power was just... there. Always. Every light switch, every hot shower, every load of laundry. I never thought twice. Now, it’s like the world is running on empty... and I don’t even know where to begin.

---

EXT. BACKYARD – AFTERNOON

(Lucy steps out into her small, fenced yard. There’s an old garden hose coiled near the side of the house. She unravels it and turns the spigot. Nothing. The hose hangs limp, like a useless relic of the past.)

(Max sniffs at the ground, but even he seems to sense the change.)

LUCY

(determined)

Okay. We can’t rely on taps anymore. We’ll need to find water. Fresh water.

(She glances over her fence to the nearby forest at the edge of the neighborhood. A small stream runs through there, she remembers from her occasional walks. But getting to it, without knowing who—or what—might be out there, is a risk.)

(She looks down at Max.)

LUCY

(softly)

I guess we’ll have to start learning the hard way...

---

INT. GARAGE – AFTERNOON

(Lucy rummages through old camping gear stored in her garage. She pulls out a portable water filter, dusting it off. She grabs some empty bottles and backpacks, preparing for their journey to the stream. Max stands by, watching her every move.)

(She stuffs supplies into her pack—matches, a knife, the flashlight with barely any juice left. Each item feels more precious now, like she’s stepping back in time to a life where nothing is guaranteed.)

LUCY

(to herself)

Back to basics...

---

EXT. FOREST – LATE AFTERNOON

(Lucy and Max walk cautiously through the woods, the air cool and crisp. The sound of water becomes more distinct as they near the stream. Lucy kneels by the bank, pulling out the water filter and attaching it to one of the empty bottles.)

(She pumps water from the stream, watching as it flows slowly into the bottle. Max sits nearby, panting softly, his eyes scanning the trees.)

LUCY

(mutters)

Thank god for camping gear...

(She hands the bottle to Max, who eagerly laps at the fresh water.)

(Lucy takes a sip herself, the cold water soothing her dry throat. But even as she drinks, she can't shake the feeling of how fragile everything is now.)

---

NARRATION:

LUCY (V.O.)

It was a strange kind of awakening. We’d all grown so comfortable, so reliant on things we didn’t understand. Power, water, food... everything brought to us with the flick of a switch or the turn of a faucet. But now? Now it’s just us and the land... and whatever’s left out there in the dark.

---

INT. LUCY’S HOUSE – NIGHT

(Lucy and Max return to the house, carrying their filled water bottles. She lights a candle, sitting on the couch with Max beside her. The silence feels heavier now, almost suffocating.)

LUCY

(sighing)

This isn’t going to be easy, Max. Not by a long shot.

(She looks at the candle, the flickering flame barely holding back the darkness.)

LUCY

We took everything for granted, didn’t we?

(Max rests his head on her lap, his presence comforting as the realization sinks in.)

---

EXT. CITY – WIDE SHOT – NIGHT

(The camera pulls back to show the entire city—once vibrant and filled with light, now a sea of black, dotted only by the occasional flicker of candlelight from windows.)

---

NARRATION:

LUCY (V.O.)

No one ever thinks about what happens when it all goes away. When the lights don't come back on. When the water doesn’t flow. We lived so far removed from the world that kept us alive, we forgot how to survive without it.

---

INT. LUCY’S HOUSE – NIGHT

(Lucy stares out the window, watching the darkness, her mind racing. The uncertainty of tomorrow lingers heavily on her.)

LUCY

(softly)

We’ll figure it out, Max. We have to.

(Max shifts, closing his eyes, but his ears twitch, ever alert.)

---

(As the days go on, Lucy and Max will face more challenges—food shortages, other survivors, and the constant threat of the unknown. But the true horror, they begin to realize, isn’t just the darkness... it’s how unprepared humanity is for a world without power. The conveniences they once took for granted are now the keys to survival, and Lucy will have to rediscover ancient skills in order to adapt.)

---

Fade out.

Happy Halloween 🤪😎😁😘

Thanksgiving Dream

AI helped

I had a weird dream..

 EXT. POINT GREY ROAD – DAY

I’m walking down Point Grey Road, the sun glistening on the ocean. The houses, those towering mansions, are lined with balloons and banners swaying in the breeze. A strange sense of celebration fills the air. People wave, smiling at me like I’ve been expected.

CROWD (in unison, joyful) We’ve been waiting for you! Welcome!

I stop, confused, but they surround me, their warmth undeniable. They gesture toward a Tiny House—just like the Tumbleweed model I used to dream of. It sits on a perfect patch of grass, as if it belongs there.

PERSON 1 (gesturing to the house) It’s yours! Just like you imagined it. Little house on wheels. Come, we’ve so much to show you!

They guide me closer, pointing out where everything will be hooked up to the local facilities—water, power, everything. A truck pulls up, overflowing with plants, fruits, vegetables, and treats, everything I could need to start a life here. They hand me a bike, fishing rods, and a toolkit—all of it feels too good to be real.

PERSON 2 (leading me inside the house) This is your home now. For as long as you want.

The inside is perfect. Every detail is as if it had been pulled from my dreams. Tears fill my eyes. Then, a familiar voice calls from behind.

VOICE Hi, Mama!

I turn. It’s my kid.

MY KID Guess what—I got one too! We’re gonna be neighbours!

We collapse into each other’s arms, laughing and crying. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted—peace, security, family. I can’t believe it’s real. But it is.

It really is

---

INT. ROOM – MORNING

I wake up suddenly. Silence. The light filters through the window. But there’s no heat. I’m wrapped in fleeces, buried under layers of blankets.

It was a dream.

The joy fades, replaced by the cold reality of my room. But the sun is shining, and I can hear the quiet outside. I take a deep breath, pulling the blankets tighter, giving thanks for just being alive. Thanksgiving morning.

Because this year…this year, so many I knew didn’t make it.

I close my eyes and whisper my gratitude to the universe. The dream still lingers. Maybe one day it will be more than just a dream.

What Does Chip Wilson Have to Complain About From His $32 Million Mansion?

I was passing through Kitsilano in Vancouver, on bus telling my friend about the signs Chip Wilson is posting, at first claiming vandalism 😜 and now apparently Chip Wilson’s put up a third sign criticizing the NDP. It made me wonder—what does a billionaire who lives in a $32 million mansion have to complain about?

What’s the Real Issue?

Chip Wilson, the founder of Lululemon, is no stranger to controversy. Known for his outspoken views on various issues, this time his criticism is focused on the NDP government. But why?

When someone like Wilson, who has more wealth than most of us could ever imagine, starts complaining about government policies, it’s worth questioning their motives. Is this truly about making life better for British Columbians, or is it about protecting his financial interests?

Wealth and Privilege in Perspective

It’s important to put Wilson’s lifestyle into context. Owning a $32 million waterfront mansion in Vancouver, one of the most expensive housing markets in the world, is the kind of privilege few can relate to. Meanwhile, many people in this province are struggling to afford rent, living paycheck to paycheck, or facing homelessness.

So, when Wilson puts up signs criticizing the government, it feels out of touch. What exactly is he complaining about? The NDP government has been focused on housing affordability, climate action, and social support systems—policies that aim to improve the lives of those who need it most. Could it be that these policies threaten the status quo for the ultra-wealthy?

When the Rich Complain, We Should Pay Attention

It’s not uncommon for the wealthy to voice dissatisfaction when policies don’t align with their financial interests. Higher taxes on luxury properties, regulations on real estate investments, or efforts to reduce inequality—these might not sit well with someone like Wilson. But for the rest of us, these policies can make a real difference in creating a more just and equitable society.

The Bigger Picture

As we think about people like Chip Wilson voicing their frustrations, it’s crucial to remember the broader context. Who benefits from the policies that are being criticized? Who stands to lose?

If someone living in a $32 million mansion is upset, it’s worth asking whether it’s because they’re losing some privilege that others have never had access to in the first place.

Conclusion

We need to question why figures like Chip Wilson use their platform to criticize a government that’s trying to improve the lives of ordinary people. While he’s entitled to his opinion, it’s important that we keep the bigger picture in mind—and remember that for many of us, the stakes are much higher than just losing a bit of luxury.

Growing Up in the 70s and 80s: Struggling Then and Now

Life in the 70s and 80s wasn’t easy, especially for families like mine. When my dad passed away, my mom was left to raise three teenagers on her own. Even when she had a heart attack and underwent open-heart surgery, she still had to work to keep us afloat—there was no real safety net for people like her. She found a job in Home Support, working with the elderly and disabled, and despite how hard that job was, she only made around $3 an hour.

When I started working, I remember making $4.75 an hour as a janitor at Expo 86, while the supervisors made $10. Back then, that felt like a huge gap. Later, I got a job at an industrial laundry making $5 an hour—hard, physical work, but in those days, that was considered decent money. When I got a job at a turkey processing plant, I started at $9 an hour, which jumped to $12 after three months, thanks to the union. It was one of the few times I felt like I was being paid fairly for the work I was doing.

Meanwhile, my mom was still struggling, even though she worked harder than anyone I knew. By the time she stopped working due to illness, she was making just $8.50 an hour, even with a union. It was tough seeing her work so hard for so little, while I earned more during my part-time jobs while going to college. She passed away at 76, after giving her whole life to keep us going. I’ve always admired her strength, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that the system never gave her the dignity she deserved.

Now, I’m finding myself in a similar place. I’ve been struggling to find steady work, living off my sister, who’s been helping me out. My body’s giving me issues, and sometimes I wonder if I’ll even make it to 76, like my mom. Nowadays, to do home support work, you need a car, which I don’t have. And cleaning jobs? They have you using all these harsh chemicals—it’s rough on your body, and the pay hardly makes it worth it. I clean my sister’s house to help out, but she’s ready for me to move on, and honestly, I can’t blame her! 😜

Surviving today feels just as hard, if not harder. The gap between working hard and getting ahead seems even wider. The world keeps changing, but for those of us trying to scrape by, the struggle feels the same. 

List of jobs I had

1. Raspberry Picker – Summers during ages 13-15.

2. Cashier at a Food Stand – Summer when you were 16, packing and selling fruit.

3. Berry Picker – Next summer after working at the food stand.

4. Straw Boss – Briefly worked in the field during strawberry season after graduating, at age 18.

5. Raspberry Picking Machine Worker – Transitioned to this job after the straw boss position didn’t work out.

6. Berry Picking Plant Worker – Worked at a plant during the summers for a couple of years.

7. Mushroom Picker – Your first job after graduating (1981), picking mushrooms in barns, which I quit.

8. Sanding and Prepping Cars/Trucks for Paint (Sundial Vans) – Worked for six months prepping vehicles for specialized paint.

9. Cashier Course – Took a one-month course in Vancouver, though you didn’t secure a cashier job.

10. Live-In Nanny – Worked as a nanny in Surrey for six months in 1982.

11. Egg Packing Worker – Candled and packed eggs, unsure of exact duration.

12. Janitor at Expo 86 – Worked as a janitor during Expo 86 for about one month.

13. Industrial Laundry Worker – Worked in an industrial laundry for one year.

14. Turkey Processing Plant Worker – Worked at a turkey processing plant 1987-1990

15. Duck Processing Plant Worker – Worked at a duck processing plant for six months. ( Was before Turkey plant but forget exactly 

16. Industrial Bakery Worker – Worked in an industrial bakery (date unclear but before 1987).

This covers your jobs up to the year 1990.

And all this was before I started college at 28 as mature student, before I took photography, web design, app design, before I learned to paint watercolours, oils, murals, make jewelry, rainmakers BEFORE I had a child and raised her as Single mom..

So remember it's hard, you are not alone, hang in there, I am doing my best too, we are all on this big planet .. together ♥️

The Truth Behind Big Donations: Are They as Generous as They Seem?

When you hear about a billionaire donating millions to charity or causes like medical research and national parks, it’s easy to think, "What a great person!" But there's more to the story. In reality, these high-profile donations often serve a dual purpose—giving the donor a positive public image while also providing them with huge tax breaks.

Here’s how it works:

Many wealthy individuals can make massive donations and receive tax write-offs. These donations allow them to reduce the amount of income they pay taxes on, ultimately lowering their tax bills. For example, when a billionaire donates $100 million to a cause, it might seem like pure generosity. But in many cases, it also significantly reduces how much they owe in taxes.

Take a donation to a medical cause related to their own illness. While it appears altruistic, it’s essentially a form of "self-donation" that comes with a public relations boost, while still helping them financially in the form of tax deductions. Similarly, donations to organizations like Parks Canada also qualify for tax benefits, allowing the donor to control where their money goes, while getting a big break on their taxes.

While these donations might do some good, it's important to remember that they allow billionaires to maintain wealth and control, and avoid contributing their fair share of taxes that could otherwise be used for the public good—things like healthcare, education, housing, and social programs.

So before we put these billionaires on a pedestal, let’s ask ourselves: Is their generosity truly selfless, or is it just another way to manage their wealth while gaining public approval?

A Modern Day Christmas Story-The Finale

 "Tina Winterlik: A Modern Day Christmas Story Cont." https://tinawinterlik.blogspot.com/2024/10/a-modern-day-christmas-story-cont.html?m=1

Ok here's how it will end, My AI time is up and I have to wait, but I want to polish it all. Until then, ..

Final Scene: The Tiny House Revolution on the Point Grey Bike Path

After being moved by his encounters with the ghosts and especially Timmy’s story, Chip doesn’t just donate money; he gets directly involved. He leads a groundbreaking initiative to repurpose Vancouver's iconic Point Grey bike path. Instead of just being a route for cyclists, the wide bike path now becomes a symbol of community revitalization and inclusivity.

The plan? Bring in 50 prebuilt tiny houses. These eco-friendly homes are transported by truck and driven directly onto the bike path, perfectly placed with gardens, flower pots, and benches. Each home is outfitted with solar panels and built sustainably. Residents not only receive these tiny homes but also a set of practical tools for a new way of life.

Everyone who gets a home is given:

A bike for green transportation around the city.

A toolkit, empowering them to maintain their home and garden.

A fishing rod, encouraging them to connect with nature and tap into Vancouver’s abundant waters for food and recreation.

The community grows around these homes, and instead of being a space reserved for the wealthy and elite, the Point Grey bike path becomes a diverse, inclusive village. The homes are intentionally close to nature, with a view of the ocean and mountains that was once inaccessible to those like Sarah and Timmy.

---

The Community Awakens

At first, the idea sparks outrage from some of Chip’s wealthy neighbors, but as the tiny houses are brought in and families begin to settle, the skepticism gives way to curiosity. The media covers the initiative extensively, calling it a "Tiny House Revolution" that reflects Vancouver’s new direction—one of sharing, inclusion, and equality.

Chip oversees the entire process, from driving in the homes to helping plant gardens. He interacts with his neighbors in ways he never thought possible. The bike path, once a simple route for exercise, transforms into a thriving eco-community, complete with micro-gardens where residents grow their own food and shared tool stations for DIY projects.

---

Timmy’s Home by the Sea

In the final scene, Timmy and his mom, Sarah, stand in front of their new tiny house. It’s small but filled with light, nestled between garden plots and a bike rack. Timmy beams with excitement as he pedals around on his new bike, stopping by the nearby shoreline to try his hand at fishing. He’s finally able to breathe the fresh ocean air every day, just like he had always dreamed.

The camera shows the once-exclusive Point Grey neighborhood now transformed, with tiny houses lining the path, flowers blooming, and children playing. Residents gather to share food and stories. Timmy plants flowers outside his home, and Chip walks by, watching the neighborhood flourish. A small smile creeps across his face, knowing this is his true legacy.

---

Final Dialogue

Timmy excitedly runs up to Chip, holding up the fish he just caught with his new rod.

Timmy: "Look! I’m going to cook dinner for my mom tonight!"

Chip crouches down, looking at the boy with warmth.

Chip: "That’s amazing, Timmy. You’re really something special."

Timmy: "Do you think this will stay forever?"

Chip (glancing around at the flourishing community, finally content):

"As long as we all work together to take care of it, Timmy. This is just the beginning."

---

Closing Scene:

The camera pans out, showing the Point Grey bike path, once a symbol of exclusivity, now a thriving, self-sustained tiny home community. The ocean sparkles in the distance, and the mountains loom large, watching over this newfound unity.

A text overlay appears on the screen:

“Don’t Ignore the Poor – A future where we share is possible.”