I was reminded today, as I was having my propane tank filled at Costco, of an old tank I had in Calgary.

It was past it's prime but still in it's useful life. The law gives us 10 years on a tank and then makes it difficult to impossible to fill again. In Calgary there was a way to have it done, but it ended up being stupid. You paid a fee, around $10, to have it “officially” inspected and then you could fill it once! A new one was more, of course, but at $10 a year it was going to defeat it's purpose very quickly, and $30 for a new one was not a bad deal.

So we had this old tank, about 8 or 9 years old, and we were taking our barbecue, so we decided to take the old cylinder with us. The moving company said they would not take a partly full propane cylinder, so it was up to us.

I had the story a bit wrong, and assumed that they would take an empty cylinder, so I went down to the gas station where we bought propane to see if they could purge the tank for me so the movers would take it (this was wrong as I found out later).

I put the partially filled cylinder down by the tanks and went inside to talk with the people. They told me it was illegal to remove the propane from a cylinder and spray it into the air, and they only purged new tanks to remove air.

I was crushed, but went out to get the cylinder and leave. The guy asked me for $10 and I asked what for.

“For the propane filling”, he said!

“No, no!”, I said. This was wrong, big-time.” I wanted an empty cylinder, not a full one”.

The gas station people were besides themselves. They couldn't empty mine now, as it was illegal, so they had to give me a new one, empty and ready to use!

The movers said they couldn't take it anyway, so I threw it in the car and drove east.

I kept it for the next 10 years!

Italian to English

I was in the airport in Turin, Italy and I had some time to kill. As I was waiting I noticed a line of people waiting for something and I decided to go and investigate. It was a refreshment salesperson, and I knew what I wanted! I wanted a beer! They had cans of beer and I got into line.

Since this was an Italian airport I figured I better use my best Italian to get my refreshment, and I worked on saying, una lattina di birra per favore “, a can of beer please. This would be a test, as I was sure the guy didn’t speak English.

As I got to the front of the line, I practiced quietly, and at the given moment, I proudly said, “una lattina di birra per favore”.

He looked at me, smiled a bit, and said, “What kind would you like sir?”

French to English

In 1984, I had just gotten off of a plane to London, and was making my way into town when we had to make a decision. The trip thus far had been planned far in advance and there were few decisions to make, but here was one. There were two buses we could take, one of them was the right one, and the buses were about to depart so, my friend and I had to quickly determine which bus to take.

A simple answer, of course, as we were at Heathrow, so there would be no trouble.

I was first out, so I ran, out of breath, up to the front of the queue, and asked as quickly as I could the question about which bus to take to get us to our destination.

The uniformed gentleman looked right at me, with a questioning
look in his eyes, and waited a minute, and said, “Où voulez-vous aller ?

I looked at him, and I paused, and I said, “I’m not speaking French”.

He said, “You’re not?”

I said, “No, I’m speaking English!”

He said, “Really?”

I said, “Yes!”

He said, “Well then, where do you want to go?”

We got on the right bus.

On Tuesday I was able to get access to my daughters files as a registered guest. The part I was allowed to view was the billing information, a nice gesture assuming they want to get paid.

Having been to a parent meeting on finances, I knew some of the problems to expect, but this was the first time I was allowed in to see all fees and charges associated with my daughters registration. Many of them we may be able to opt out of if she is not participating in certain kinds of activities, as yet to be determined.

I had a concern, as it turns out, it was well founded. My daughter was perceived as a foreign student because she was born in Massachusetts, regardless of her citizenship.

When I opened the file I fell off of the chair, as her tuition charges were way more than expected, and it was because she is considered foreign at the moment. The paperwork has been turned in so we hope it will end before we have to really send money. I called this morning and they said to wait. I have two weeks plus before we need to make changes.

The tuition is great for Quebecers and not bad ( double) for Canadians and good (more than double Canadian) for Americans, but it depends what you’re used to.

I was startled!

We will see how this one turns out!

Our McGill Days

Today we visited the school store. What a place! They had parent specials, with two t-shirts allowed for $5 each! The deal was, of course, a lost leader. Who could go in and spend $10? Never happen. We spent $375, why not?

A parent said to me that he would be there next week, in front, with a cup in his hand trying to pay tuition! We all understood.

Outside of the University gates there were entrepreneurial kids selling “Harvard, America’s McGill” t-shirts. Very clever play on words and they were constantly selling, I bet mostly to American parents who go home and wear these clever items to show how smart they were to come here.

We met a couple at dinner last night from Chicago, who were very happy to have found this place. There son, who is in my daughter’s dorm, found this school, the last place they visited, and knew he was home. They were beaming but a bit unnerved because they had just said goodbye to their only son and were feeling a bit lost! I know that feeling.

The audience in the parents meeting responded by showing of hands to questions from the podium. How many from Montreal and area,10 to 15 people. How many from Quebec, probably another 40. There were hundreds of people in the room. How many from the rest of Canada, probably 40 %. How many from the US, about 40% . How many from foreign countries, the rest of the group. It was such a diverse group!

Most kids seem to have come by themselves, not with other kids from their high school. Many knew other kids somewhere in the school, but like my daughter, many single kids starting out. This is good for all of them. My daughter said the boys looked to be either 25 or 12!
Lots of activity in this city and at the University.

We are hot and tired and well fed! Definitely worth while trip and a great place to leave a daughter, if you have to!

We have liftoff!

And so, my friends, after an uneventful seven hour drive to Montréal, we have arrived! We found the hotel, registered, and got my daughter to the dorm, just at four o’clock. We first found out she needed a student ID and it was only open until five, so off the two girls went while guess who was left to move it all in?

So, Mom and Dad became the movers. The weather, predicted to be 22 degrees, was over 30! I sweated continuously for the next few hours while we moved.

There were a great many steps from parking to the front door, and the heaviest stuff went in the first two loads. Good news as the elevator died after load two!

Thankfully she lives on the second floor! I put together a fan we bought for her and sat in front of it for a bit!

A few hours later we were done (for day one).

Back to the hotel, we were unable to use hotel parking as we had a carrier on top of the car and we were too high to fit in the underground. No problem, they said, go see these guys around the corner, they have in and out as long as you have cash! So, after a bit of negotiations with two different places, we secured in and out parking for $100 for the four days. It now cots as much to park as my first car cost to buy! If you live long you’ll see everything!
My daughter came back with us and had a shower while we screwed with the WiFi, which works, it turns out, if you sit on a chair by the front door of the room near the bathroom. It is sort of LoFi!

We did go off to dinner, with only a short time because my daughter needed to get back for a movie night. We rushed through downtown Montreal on a Saturday night looking for great fast food and found it! There was a great noodle place behind a Subway! Fantastic, made as you stand there Asian food. You walked through the Subway to get inside!
We returned my daughter in time and went home.

We texed with her later as she never saw the movie but ended up in a bar with her new found friends! Long Island Ice Tea!

It turns out the dinking age in Quebec is 18!

The day has finally arrived...

I have not reached the end of my stories as yet, but I am off to Montreal for a few days, so I won’t be posting daily for a bit. My daughter, the older one, is off to McGill University as Music Major.

This is the fourth time I’ve done this. My oldest son was off to Oberlin College in Ohio, and my wife and I drove him there from Detroit. We were good through the drive and the parent orientation, but were both in tears when we left. He stayed a year, transferred to the University of Michigan, and was an hour away, not a bad deal for us.

My next son went directly to the University of Michigan, and started in the spring term, literally replacing his older brother in his room. My oldest son was obligated to pay through the year, so his brother filled in the spot. As he left (he had a ride) I waved goodbye at him. He was just around the corner, or so it seemed.

My next son went to the Kansas City Art Institute, the year before he went to the University of Michigan (I think there’s a pattern here) and I flew down there with him. I used to live there and was happy to go and see some friends and see him off. I cried as I arrived at the airport and went to the plane. Later, after he transferred, I was a regular visitor to the University.

Now I go farther than before, to drop off my oldest daughter; the little girl I loved and raised and cherished. I’m crying as I write this.

I am going to be a wreck!