I’ve gotten pretty proficient at dividing by 3.2, which is the conversion rate from the multicolored Malaysian Ringgit to Canadian dollars. Wandering through the brand-named stores at the multi-storied Gurney Plaza mall and doing this 3.2 division repeatedly, I arrive repeatedly at what I’d expect the price to be in Canada. (Just can’t escape the law of one price.)

Head where the locals head, and food is cheap. An exploision of hawker stands takes over an area just west of the Gurney Plaza. Dinner: char koay teow, a fried vermicelli noodle with cockles (some sort of local shellfish), pig fat, and duck egg: RM 4.80.

Canada has the worst mobile phone service in the world. It took all of 5 minutes and RM 8.50 to obtain a mobile SIM card to have a local Penang phone cell number. And RM 5.00 of credit for local calls (billed at RM 0.36 a minute). Let’s see you do that, Rogers.

It’s rainy season. Which means freak thunderstorms. Like, torrential rain thunderstorms, the your-umbrella-and-raingear-is-useless type. I learned this the hard way, but was luckily saved by a teksi (taxi) ride back to the hotel. Cost: RM 4.20.

You just can’t beat the prices in Penang. Now I’m out to look for koay teow th’ng and other tasty treats.

California in 12 Photographs

Getting to California was almost a disaster, due to some pretty poor foresight. Hmm, flight departing Buffalo at 6:30 AM. Great idea: wake up at 1 AM, leave Toronto at 2 AM and cross the border into the US at 3 AM! Better yet, drive a dirty, beaten-up 1997 Honda Odyssey! And when the US customs agents ask you where you’re staying, don’t elaborate further than, “Umm, hotels.”

After being detained by US customs for an hour for a complete car search (at least they pointed out our flat tire), we made it to our spectacularly horrible flight, on a sub-par airline. (A free flight though, as compensation for a previous debacle with same airline. Go figure.) When finally reunited with our luggage and belched from the belly of LAX, it was 3 PM, leaving a few hours to run around the city before rush hour…

Venice Beach

Our Fodor’s guidebook promised “year-round action” on the Venice Boardwalk near the Venice Pier, including “bikini-clad rollerbladers and bicyclists”. We were mildly disappointed to discover the only souls braving the 10 degree Celsius (50 Fahrenheit) weather were us. Oh, and a cold-looking crew filming an even colder-looking girl in a bikini running around on the beach. How typical of Los Angeles. Cold weather aside, the Venice Pier is a nice spot to do some ocean gazing, and the adjacent streets are filled with beach-houses with interesting architecture and colours.

Walt Disney Concert Hall

Frank Gehry designs rather sexy looking buildings. The Walt Disney Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles is no exception, featuring sensual curves, like fins or claws reaching for the sky, clad in shiny stainless steel that reflect blue sky and ground and anyone who happens to be around. So shiny, in fact, that portions of the hall was sanded down after Los Angelinos complained about hotspots on the sidewalk due to a parabolic-mirror effect.

The music hall is nestled within a collection of impressively attractive skyscrapers downtown, reminding me of great East Coast cities — but with large, wide avenues and the occasional palm tree, just to remind you that you are indeed still in California. We hustled out of the downtown core to run away from the rush-hour traffic, only to have it catch up to us before Pasadena.

When I think of California I think of sunny beaches, chiseled coves, and lush redwood forests; definitely not Joshua Tree National Park, a hauntingly desolate preserve about two hours east of Los Angeles. The park straddles two deserts, the Mojave and Colorado, and features distinctly different plants and wildlife in both. We entered the park well before dawn, from the north; flourishing in the Mojave Desert, with its higher elevation and cooler climate, is the Yucca or Joshua tree, which gives the park its name.

Dawn and Joshua Trees at Joshua Tree National Park

The park is home to very large bare-rock boulders and formations, rounded from years of erosion and exposure. Some are named monuments, resembling large marbles (”Giant Marbles”), or even a human skull (”Skull Rock”). Strewn amongst the landscape, in between pockets of Yucca trees and shrubs, and set against a backdrop of mountains, these boulders and formations create a rather surreal and interesting landscape.

Yucca, Shrubs, Boulders, and Mountains at Joshua Tree National Park

San Diego embodies much of what we expect of southern California; sunny and beach-filled, a place to relax and enjoy summer. We spent a day exploring San Diego proper. A morning was spent exploring the island community of Coronado, and its key landmark, the Hotel del Cororando, affectionately know as “The Del”, a luxury hotel featuring classic American wooden architecture.

Brown Pelican at La Jolla Coves

Our favourite place in San Diego was La Jolla Coves, a remarkable ocean-front beach that serves as an enclave for wildlife within the city. The cove is the focal point of La Jolla, a trendy resort community nestled between seven miles of Pacific coastline and the hillside of Mount Soledad, only twelve miles north of downtown San Diego.

Harbour Seal Watching, La Jolla Coves

You arrive at La Jolla Coves and work your way down the coastline. Preening on bluffs both near and far are various coastal seabirds and pelicans. Basking on some rocks immediately below are dark sea lions, tightly packed on precious rock real estate. Further down you can scramble into a rocky tidal flat. If you luck out like we did, you can arrive at La Jolla at low tide, giving you lots of opportunity to explore the flats over still-wet rocks and kelp, looking into little tidepools teeming with miniature crabs and aquatic plants.

Further south still you can find a roped-off sandy beach with hundreds of harbour seals resting with their young, all aligned the same direction pointing towards rolling waves. Stay until dusk to watch them wriggle their way to the water’s edge, one by one, and gracefully slip into the water in search of an evening meal.

Cheetah, San Diego Wild Animal Park

The San Diego Zoo actually comprises of two distinct complexes. The first, for which San Diego is famous, is the zoo within the Balboa Park, a large urban park in the heart of downtown. The second is the San Diego Wild Animal Park, which is located 30 miles away from the city, in the San Pasqual valley. As large 1,800 acre park, it features incredible free-range enclosures where animals are free to roam and live in a more natural environment.

The drive to San Pasqual is surprisingly tranquil and beautiful, over meadows and between green hills. Arriving at the Wild Animal Park, you work your way through several large exhibits. Large aviaries feature African birds, which thrive well in the semi-arid park environment. Thimblefuls of nectar can be purchased to feed colourful lorikeets, which land en masse on your arm to fight over the sweet syrup. Gorillas are surprisingly human-like and “chill” in groups in the shade. Also on display was the park’s newest addition, a baby rhinoceros, being fed by park keepers.

Safari? No, San Diego Wild Animal Park

The free-range enclosure is stunning — the “Into Africa” tour takes you into the free-range enclosure aboard a safari-style tram, where you can watch animals behaving in their habitat. Cheetahs rest in their private enclosure, and watch African antelope herding on slopes beyond. Two of world’s six remaining Northern white rhinos are on display along with Indian rhinos and giraffes. It’s remarkable to watch animals behave with their natural instincts: grouping atop high hills for the best vantage point, posting sentries to watch in each direction for oncoming predators.

Big Sur Drive

The famous California State Route 1 hugs the Pacific Ocean as it winds its way from Orange County to Mendocino. We followed the Route 1 for a two day drive from Ventura to San Francisco. Some of the highlights of the southern part include: Santa Barbera and its beautiful Santa Barbera Mission; peaceful Cambria and the elephant seal rookery; Ragged Point.

Bixby Bridge, Big Sur Drive

The real beauty kicks in near Big Sur. Frequent lookout points along the highway give stunning views of the undulating coast line, waves crashing into sheer bluffs and a narrow road perched precariously upon it. The route is dotted with state parks, including the scenic Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park with the picturesque McWay falls. My favourite is the Bixby Bridge, a 714-foot long open-spandrel arch bridge over a gorge.

North of Big Sur is Monterrey. This was a bad weekend to be in Carmel-on-the-Sea or Monterrey; the placed was packed for the AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. Not to mention Valentine’s Day. We didn’t get to do the famous 17-mile drive and see the famous Lone Cypress due to the golf tournament. The Monterrey Bay Aquarium was a great place to spend a rainy Sunday morning; the 1.3 million gallon Outer Bay tank features sharks, tuna, barracuda, and thousands of sardines fighting over daily feeding frenzies.

Golden Gate Bridge by Day

San Francisco is a beautiful walking city, which is refreshing after a week of driving. We ditched the rental car and explored the city by foot for a few days, checking out the different neighborhoods and enclaves, as well as the local tasty eats. My favourite landmark was the Golden Gate Bridge, especially when viewed from north of the city, at the Marin headlands. Also in the vicinity is Muir Woods National Monument, a stunning redwood forest, featuring groves of Coast Redwood up to 258 feet tall.

The very last photo taken on our trip is my favorite, and is below. We had just finished a meal at an amazing sushi restaurant in Sausalito, and were driving south to cross the bridge and catch our flight at the airport. Would there be time to take one last photo? It was cold and the path to the lookout was dark and treacherous, not to mention wet from the earlier rains. There was a good bit of waiting, for a large cargo freighter to pass under the bridge. There were winds threatening to topple my tripod. But it was quite an amazing sight, alone on that hill, watching the Golden Bridge at night, watching the traffic go by, with the twinkling of San Francisco and Alcatraz lights beyond. I’m glad we did it, a good conclusion to our trip: it was well worth it indeed.

Golden Gate Bridge by Night

I bought a Mac. Shocking.

I have a history of running my computers into the ground. I’ve been needing a new computer for a while now. I’m currently using a Pentium 3 - 1.2 GHz 12″ Sony Vaio with a broken cooling fan (and a tendency to overheat), circa 2003. Prior to this was my 1999 Pentium 3 - 450 MHz, now acting as a Linux-based file and print server. Before that was 486 DX2 66 MHz PC, circa 1993, which wasn’t retired until 2004. (It’s still sitting under my desk, plugged in.)

I’ve been complaining about super-slow Photoshop and I’ve been muttering about a switch away from Windows for a while now, so I finally jumped on the newly updated 24″ iMac. Some thoughts on my new Mac, from the newly converted (please take with multiple grains of salt).

Hardware. The display is astounding. Some of the best color reproduction that I’ve seen; bright and vibrant right out of the box. 1920×1200 resolution, great for those downloaded HD TV shows. I’m pleased with form factor of the iMac; I love how it looks sitting, un-cluttered, on my desk. It’s also super quiet. Everything’s well designed yet functional — with the exception of the not-so-ergonomic standard keyboard. It’s also difficult to type at full pace on its shallow keys.

Operating System. As a former Linux devotee, OS/X is great. I love the native UNIX-based operating system, with the ability to pop open a terminal to do whatever file-moving, bash-scripting, dirty-work that needs to done. I find OS/X incredibly smooth and polished, definitely a breath of fresh air after working on a Windows PC all day.

So I’m happy after my first five days. But will the Mac stand the test of time? Will the switch to Mac be permanent? We’ll find out for sure the next time I upgrade computers, which, if the past sets a precedence, should be sometime in 2013. Stay tuned.

The sun was setting on our first day in Rome. We’d just arrived earlier that afternoon, leaving just a few hours to explore the city in a relaxed, unscheduled fashion.

We’d braved the Roma Metro, infamous for teams of thieves and pickpockets, and made it to Piazza di Spagna, the Spanish Steps. From there, it was a short walk to the famous Fontana di Trevi, the Trevi Fountain. Built during the Renaissance era, both are pretty, and full of people. But quickly boring: a few minutes and pictures and you’ll be wanting to move on.

We started to get hungry. At about nine o’clock, the umbrella-covered al fresco tables lining the streets started to fill with energetic diners, drinking wine and nibbling on overflowing plates of antipasto. We found a restaurant recommendation in our guidebook, and proceeded to get lost in Rome’s twisty labyrinth of side streets trying to find it.

A few turns later, still solidly lost, we found ourselves walking down a narrow street lined with gelaterie and trattorie, and the occasional bar. In the distance, white marble emerged into view as the buildings on the narrow street yielded into a wide piazza. One Corinthian column, followed by another, eight in all, the white marble glowing in contrast with other buildings lit with yellow-tinted incandescents. A beautiful triangular portico framing enormous doors, in front of a wide dome that seemed to dwarf neighbouring buildings, set against a beautiful twilight sky. With each and every step, more of the meter-high block letting slid into view. “M. AGRIPPA FECIT…”

I became rooted to the very spot I was standing, my feet firmly affixed to the cobblestone pavement, my mouth agape as I gawked at the pantheon, beautiful in its simplicity and perfect symmetry. My knees weakened and threatened to buckle. A sea of locals and tourists flowed past me, as a brook parts around a newly placed pebble. Juxtaposed against the umbrellas-lined ristoranti, the hustle and bustle of the piazza, and a street busker playing stereotypical Italian music (for the tourists, of course), the Pantheon surely did not belong. It felt as if the two-millenia old building had been rescued from the past and unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the piazza.

How fragile human life and human civilization are! This building, this mass of marble and stone, has existed on that very spot for a hundred generations of man. It’s witnessed the fall of an ancient thousand-year-old civilization, centuries of turmoil, and recently, the dawn of “modern civilization”. We are but insignificant blips when measured against this relic, a behemoth of time. Where will you or I or “Western civilization” be in two thousand years? I don’t know; but the Pantheon will be in Rome.

A few minutes later, I finally remembered to take a photograph. It’s the one you see at the top of this page. We visited the Pantheon a few more times over the course of the week. Any routes we picked would inevitably detour to the Pantheon, just because “it’s so close” (everything’s close by in Rome). On the eve of our departure from Rome, the final destination of our night walk across was the Pantheon, “one last time”. But even after we forlornly walked away, that magical image of the Pantheon, and all it embodied about Rome, accompanied us on our long trip home.

Recently addicted. Addicted to Facebook. I’ve been avoiding social networking sites like the plague for the last few years, refusing to sign-up on Friendster or MySpace. Then along came Facebook. And now I find myself checking it multiple times a day, like everyone else. You’re probably reading this blog entry as a syndicated note on Facebook, you addict you.

Recently purchased gadgets. I finally bit the bullet and bought that lens I’ve been eyeing for the last few months: the Canon EF 70-200 f/4L IS USM telephoto zoom. I love it. It’s oh-so-sharp, and I’ve been taking it around on walks around Toronto. It takes beautiful portraits, and great photos of random people, which has been nice with all the nice weather! In the past, I’ve never been able to take pictures of random strangers, but it’s much easier with this lens since you’re usually standing 20-30 metres away. See recent photos, amongst others, at photos.grchiu.com. I’ve also recently loaded up on 10 gigabytes of compact flash. This should be sufficient for about 1400 photos in Rome… enough, I hope?

Recent reading. In preparation for an upcoming trip to Italy (next week!) I’ve been reading Rick Steves’ Rome and Rick Steves’ Italy. Both excellent reads, packed with information and lots of nice maps of the different sight-seeing venues. The Lonely Planet Best of … guides are also nice and small for carrying around.

Before that, I rediscovered the public library system and borrowed Conspiracy of Fools: A True Story by Kurt Eichenwald, a surprisingly gripping and outrageous true store of the boom and subsequent demise of Enron in its corporate accounting scandal. It’s a great read, offering a unique look into the politics and inner workings of big corporations. On the lighter side, Spin, the 2006 Hugo Award winning novel by Robert Charles Wilson, is captivating, with an interesting premise and memorable characters full of vigour. Also recently read was the classic The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins. I’m looking forward to reading The God Delusion.

Recent Listening. In the past few months I’ve started listening to vocal/instrumental jazz. It all started when I saw Melissa Stylianou, a Toronto jazz vocalist, perform at Hugh’s Room on the home stretch of her tour. Her latest album, Sliding Down, is great. Check it out.

Italy next week. Some stories and pictures to follow when I return. Arrivederci!

A short recap for those who weren’t paying attention: It’s been about sixty days since I got the Wii. This may explain why I have appeared to drop off the face of the planet. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time rescuing Hyrule, bashing Raving Rabbids, and perfecting my tennis game. Now I can write a semi-meaningful review of this console (and a few popular games)… Does the Wii live up to its expectation as Nintendo’s big next-generation console revolution, or does it fizzle, falling into the “Nintendo is for kids” stereotype?

The hero returns. Discussed first and foremost has to be The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. If A Link to the Past was the pinnacle of 2D Legend of Zelda success, Twilight Princess is truly its 3D counterpart. The game is masterfully designed and the gaming experience presented is smooth and polished. Dungeons and the puzzles within are designed to be amazingly compact, every object serving a purpose, with minimal time-wasting “running around”. Mini-bosses and bosses are astounding: in scale and how they spring to life on the screen. The plot is endearing, one of the best I’ve ever seen in a Zelda game, with truly emotional moments. The soundtrack contributes greatly to the action and is quite memorable (if only they orchestrated all of it!). I also much prefer using the Wii-mote for control: shooting arrows feels much more natural with the pointer, and the motion-sensing for slashing or shield blocking adds significantly to the realism of the game. Buy the Wii just for Twilight Princess.

But the question on most minds is, what about other than Twilight Princess? Finishing Twilight Princess took fifty hours of play-time over a month and a half (I do have to work, you know). Although Twilight Princess has many things to challenge and entertain you with even after main story completion, it can’t entertain forever. Does the Wii hold its own aside from this blockbuster launch title?

The old can play too. I arrived home one day and was astounding to find my father playing Wii Sports Tennis. Now, this is a man who hasn’t touched console games since Super Mario Brothers on the original NES, and couldn’t, try as hard as he might, get past the platform jumping in World 1-3. It’s amazing how accessible the Wii is to just about anyone: bring a Wii to a party and people of any age, even those who have never played a console game, want to give the Wii-mote a shot. Take that, PlayStation.

Wii Sports, the pack-in game for Wii in North America, is surprisingly endearing. Although it was quickly abandoned at first (trumped by Zelda, of course) I find it a nice short game great for some quick entertainment. Bowling, tennis, and golf are realistic and enjoyable and the rating system offers motivation to return and play frequently. However, the true gem of Wii Sports has to be the training mode, with 15 mini-games to hone your skills on. Hitting home runs in baseball is gratifying, but unfortunately the simplifications such as automated defense make the game not so challenging. Also not so hot is boxing, due to iffyness with depth-detection on the Wii-mote. More on that later.

Great for Parties. Nothing beats four Wii-motes (if you can find them!) at a party. Wii Sports, Rayman Raving Rabbids, Wario Ware: Smooth Moves and Monkey Ball: Banana Blitz are excellent in multi-player mode, creating many opportunities for pictures of your friends and family doing ridiculous things with a Wii-mote and nunchuk. Bowling and tennis are group favourites in Wii Sports. There are a few enjoyable, truly interactive multi-player mini-games: in Rayman’s Bunnies Can’t Herd, you compete against the other players to collect farm animals faster than they can; in Bunnies Can’t Slide you attempt to get closer to the center with curling-esque bumping. Monkey Ball’s split-screen Goldeneye style first-person-shooter Monkey Wars is a real winner, as is their hoovercraft bumping mini-game. Unfortunately, the rest of the short collection of multiplayer mini-games are “do this action faster than the other people” and get pretty boring pretty fast.

It is also unfortunate that the single-player modes of these games also leave much to be desired. Don’t get me wrong, most mini-games are truly innovative and fun — like Rayman’s DDR-style dancing. It’s just that after playing through the game in single-player mode, there’s little or no challenge or motivation to revisiting single player minigames.

Where’s the online multi-play? One of the highly touted features of the Wii is WiiConnect24, which provides 24/7 WiFi connection of your Wii to the Internet through your existing 802.11b or g wireless network. So far, it’s been used to allow surfing the Internet on your Wii, purchasing virtual console games through the Wii Shop, getting weather updates straight to your Wii, and receiving Wii-mail. Wii-mail makes your Wii’s disc slot glow a cool blue. Unfortunately, although these features may impress, they don’t provide lasting entertainment beyond the first week.

This one feature could have saved single-player mode in Rayman and Monkey Ball with some sort of online stats or multiplayer mode. The ability to play with friends or random strangers, proudly display high scores and stats, or design and trade levels would add instant replay value to games. As it stands, after trying Banana Blitz for a day at a friend’s, I have no intention or motivation to purchase the game.

Although you can hardly blame the 3rd-party developers Ubisoft and Sega for this. It was recently revealed that Nintendo didn’t make the API for use of WiConnect24 available to 3rd-party developers. That means it’s up to Nintendo to release a title (Animal Crossing Wii? Pokémon? Battalion Wars?) that makes use of what’s been one of their most touted features. Smart move by big N, since that first title sets the momentum, and online multiplay can make or break the Wii console. The jury is still out.

Where are you pointing, anyway? The Wii-mote accuracy has been surprisingly good. When the Revolution was first announced, we spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out how the Wii-mote and sensor bar would work. The solution is refreshingly simple. (The sensor bar is an array of IR LEDs; the sensor on the front of the Wii-mote triangulates distance, uses an internal gyroscope for determining orientation, and notifies the console via Bluetooth.) Side-to-side and up-and-down pointing is surprisingly accurate, although the first few minutes are indeed awkward. The one major problem has to be depth (towards and away from the screen). Only a few mini-games in Banana Blitz and boxing in Wii Sports make use of this feature, and their control leaves much to be desired. Other than that, the Wii-mote’s performance is stellar.

Virtually Console? Virtual Cashcow. I’ll admit, I was suckered once or twice into giving money to the big N through the virtual console. Generally, it was late at night, and a case of “I’m bored” was instantly gratified using a credit card (or store-purchased Wii points). So far I’ve purchased Mario 64 (for Nintendo 64) and Gunstar Heroes (for Sega Genesis), two games on two consoles I never owned.

It’s fun and a great idea, and the classic controller adds to the gaming experience. Unfortunately, I don’t feel generous enough to purchase all the SNES games I already have snes9x ROMs for; the same goes for the NES games I already have for my old console. Although it would be much more convenient than digging out and reconnecting the NES whenever I have a craving to play Legend of Zelda or Super Mario 3.

Also surprisingly missing is the support for multi-player in the virtual console. Emulators like snes9x have been supporting over-TCP/IP multiplayer for years. Why not support this on the Wii? This would be the one feature that would convince me to shell out for more games. Four-player online Super Mario Kart or Super Mario Kart 64? Wowsers, Bowsers.

Wrapping it up. Nintendo’s Wii rides on the success of its flagship game, Twilight Princess. Its next big hero, Mario, returns in Super Mario Galaxy, planned for later this year. Will the Wii hold its weight until then? My opinion is that multiplayer support in games (both major and virtual console) will be a defining factor in the Wii experience. It’s the only thing missing now, and would keep me (and others) glued solidly to my Wii and TV for hours on end. I hope Nintendo heeds this call. If not, I could always just wait for the next Zelda, Legend of Zelda Wii, whose release will likely be delayed until 2009 or beyond. Surely that game will have at least fifty more hours of awe-inspiring entertainment.

4:41 AM. I suit up for battle. Three shirts, a sweater, and a heavy down-filled jacket. I rummage through a bin of old ski gear. A scarf, a pair of ski gloves, ski mask, and a nice woolen hat. I also find ski goggles I thought I had lost years ago; I consider wearing them as well, but then reluctantly return them to the bin.

4:48 AM. Weather channel. Zero chance of precipitation, but a balmy 2 degrees Celsius. I quickly add a second pair of pants to my wardrobe. They barely fit over my other pair. I look at my baggy self in the mirror, ski mask and all. I look like I’m about to rob a bank. I wisely ditch the ski mask.

5:00 AM. Driving. The theatre of operations is Newmarket. Forward reconnaissance the previous day indicated that Richmond Hill and Markham locations were likely full: about twenty-five or so lined-up at 10 PM. The drive to Newmarket at five in the morning is uneventful: local roads all the way up, one red light, two other cars, and a family of raccoons just north of Aurora. Maybe they’re out to get a Wii too.

5:15 AM. I arrive at Best Buy (48 units, opens at 8 AM). I’m sweating profusely in the car with my five and a half layers of clothing. I see about 60 people standing around. “There’s 48 people here,” a guy calls out to me from the car, “I’ve got a list.” He suggests that I try my luck online at Best Buy (20 units per hour) or at Future Shop, down the street. I neglect to ask him which street, and which direction is “down”.

5:20 AM. Three streets and two very illegal U-turns later, I’m at Future Shop (40 units, open at 10 AM). I see about 50 people standing around. “There’s 43 people here,” a guy calls out to me. Not to mention a four-and-a-half hour wait. I pass, in lieu of the Walmart across the plaza.

5:22 AM. Walmart. I sign the list, in 46th position, one behind a guy named Vince, who arrives moments before I do. I ask around about stock levels. Rumours galore. 40-something, 54, 48. The lady with the list says they counted 44 Wiis this morning. That puts me at missing by two. Drat. I also ask when Walmart opens. 7 AM. On Sunday. Amazing. At least that’s only a ninety minute wait…

5:28 AM. Jenn arrives at Walmart, having explored all of Newmarket with my awful direction giving capabilities. She sneaks into line behind me, with a bag of granola bars. They’re frozen. I chow down anyway, starved. The clothing keeps me warm, very warm. The line starts to fill out behind me, starting with a young girl immediately behind. Rumours persist that there are only 44 Wiis; this is a disconcerting fact. I am on the bubble.

6:04 AM. “One hour left!” I proudly exclaim. I am very warm everywhere except for my feet. Jenn scolds me for not wearing warmer shoes. I was not aware shoes had varying degrees of warmth. To keep my feet warm, I do jumping jacks and other assorted calisthentics. The kids in front of us in line start playing Winning Eleven on a PSP, alternating between taking a turn at the controls and then thawing out their hands in their pockets.

6:29 AM. Walmart employee shows up and asks us to form a line. Some commotion at the head of the line; someone then shouts “Number One!”, thrusting a blue plastic card in the air. Applause. The ticket handout has begun.

6:36 AM. By the time they get to us, they’re at the 50s. Jenn gets 52 and I get 53. The list was completely ignored. The young girl, now replaced by her father, gets 54, the last one. “That’s it,” says the blue-smocked employee. Young girl can’t believe her luck. Talk ensues excitedly about the Wii and games. Everyone squeezes their tickets tightly in a death grip.

7:01 AM. Starting at the head of the line, five lucky blue ticket holders at a time get to go into the store and purchase their Wiis. They come out cheering and holding white Walmart bags. Many drive past the Future Shop and Best Buy, not to open for hours still, and taunt the others waiting in line.

7:55 AM. Even more people show up and join the line. It’s too late, we tell them. They go away, and are instantly replaced by more. Finally, I’m lead into the store, finally, with young girl’s father, as the last two ticketed persons in line. My Wii is waiting for me. It’s almost anti-climatic: I pay for it, Zelda, and an extra controller (no more nunchuks). I then wander aimlessly around the rest of Walmart for ten minutes, clutching the Wii box to my chest.

Unfortunately, young girl’s luck ran out. The 54th Wii had gone missing, and, being last, she didn’t get a Wii. What’s worse, for the last hour and a half, she had thought she was going to get one too. Shame on you, Walmart. I felt real bad. Jenn had already gotten hers for me, at 52, and we didn’t really need the second one (it was going to a friend), and so after a few minutes of wandering I tried to find young girl’s father to let them have the last Wii. But he was nowhere to be found. My only regret was not thinking about this earlier…

A bit about the Wii. It’s a lot of fun. Kudos to Nintendo for making a very playable system that’s accessible to both gamers and non-gamers alike. The Wii Sports game is simple but extremely entertaining — a great party game. Zelda’s gameplay is fresh, and easy to use; sword-fighting and shooting slingshots is insanely fun with the Wiimote. I was afraid about the sensitivity/accuracy of the remote control, but I find it quite good; some accuracy is still desirable but it’s much better than I had expected. The WiiConnect24 feature is a real winner, connecting your Wii to your friends’ Wiis even when it’s off!

And that concludes my Wii little adventure.

There’s one other thing that’s instantly and casually apparent (besides the temperature). Mountains. Everywhere. Although there are probably countless wonderful sights and vistas around that area (none of which I had time to visit during my week-long trip), I am instantly floored by a panorama of mountains surrounding the city, rather large peaks of earth and trees, rising in the distance. Having grown up in the flat-lands of Ontario (i.e. Toronto), this is quite exciting for me. We drive on the freeway, my eyes transfixed on these giants looming in the distance — so large that fifteen minutes of driving does little to change their size. Amazing.

My co-workers are the real lucky ones. The view from the third floor, facing south, of our headquarters in San Jose is gorgeous at 5 o’clock on a crisp and clear Friday afternoon in November. All framed by a bank of floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a beautiful scene hangs like a painting just outside. A tree-lined valley of buildings, houses, parks and roads stretches before you, to the horizon. A mountain to the right, earthy tones glowing red in a Californian sunset. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and I’m instantly envious.

The mass e-mail was terse and to the point. I have a daughter who is starting piano lessons, it read. Is anyone interested in selling an old upright piano?

So for what would be the first time in years, I sat down today and played the piano. The piano and I have always have some sort of love-hate relationship. I love to play the piano. I just hated to practice.

I started playing the piano at the age of six under the tutelage of Mrs. Zilberman in her North York home. Eleven years and three piano teachers later, I’m taking my grade 10 exam. I remember preparing half-heartedly for that exam: it was the end of May of 2000, one month left in high school, worrying about university responses possibly lost in the mail, or final final exams. And a few weeks before a departure for Shad. Piano exam? Frankly, I don’t remember practicing at all.

I remember walking out of that exam with a sense of release, a sense of freedom. Never having to practice that goddamned instrument anymore. I also remember passing with honours — barely, as just one mark lower would require me to take supplemental exams before attempting ARCT. Hah, ARCT. Yeah right.

And I didn’t touch my piano for a few weeks… months… years.

So for what would be the first time in years, I sat down today and played the piano. A little Chopin, some Bach, and little Brahms. Some hacky attempts at Rachmaninov. Some Norah Jones, for good measure. I love to play the piano. But my fingers are brittle and slow, now adapted and practiced for the keyboard of a computer rather than of a piano.

So I sit there for an hour, hammering out bar after bar, repeating left hand until perfected, and then right. I get out the wind-up metronome, but discover that it’s broken. For the first time in years (and probably years while I was still playing), I’m really practicing. And hey, it’s not so bad. I manage to play a Chopin prelude almost up to speed. I sight-read the first few bars of a Beethoven Sonata. I finish, like I used to, with a rousing rendition of God Save the Queen, with powerful thundering chords that resonate through the house.

Me? Sell my piano?

I took a picture, my piano and I. We’ve always had some sort of love-hate relationship, and it looks like we’ve finally made our peace.

I finished reading it that very night. After staying up all night reading, of course.

I was enthralled from the first page. Her first few books are very swashbuckling, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants stories about a young boy, Miles, of high but troubled birth, trying to make his mark on the world and universe. The rest of her Vorkosigan saga tells a stunningly vivid tale. You learn, in pieces, about the history of the backwater planet and the origins of its caste-like system, and you watch the development and struggles of the main character to grow, learn, and survive. You also get a few insights into Miles’ parentage and the general universe and times in which he lives.

The series is an absolutely entertaining read. Things I love about it:

• Bujold has an incredible flair for creating characters that are vibrant and leap off the page, but still have complex personalities and multi-dimensioned traits.
• Her continual re-introduction of old characters, so we get to see what happened to previous secondary characters and watch their (sometimes painfully slow) character development.
• Bujold always addresses some core theme or value in her novels and novellas — she always has some subtle story or point to make, and she does so masterfully without interfering with the plot at hand.
• Much like her characters gradually changing from novel to novel in her saga, Bujold changes her themes and sub-genre with great fluidity over the decades. Her books range from straight science fiction, to mystery, to fantasy, or even to romantic comedy.

There’s one last piece of unread Bujold: “Winterfair Gifts”, a novella (everything else she’s published, I’ve read). I’ve been saving it for a rainy day. Some part of me also dreads reading it, as it would sadly mean no more new Bujold novels to read. No more updates on the lives of her intriguing and witty characters, no more social commentary on family values or honor. No more exciting swashbuckling adventures. But hats off to her, for changing my perceptions: before her, I never knew science fiction could be like this!