Moët Jeroboams To Flow During Games At “Bearfoot Bistro”

Bearfoot Bistro is located at 4121 Village Green in beautiful Whistler, BC | 604-932-3433 | www.bearfootbistro.com

News from Scout supporter Bearfoot Bistro

Whistler, BC | At Whistler’s legendary Bearfoot Bistro, every night is a celebration, and as the resort town gets set to throw its biggest party ever, Bearfoot Bistro’s convivial owner André Saint-Jacques is primed to play host. Get all the details after the jump… Read more

The Things We Need To Take Care Of Before The World Arrives…

We like that the Economist, Mercer and the UN have repeatedly named Vancouver one of the swellest places in the world to live. It’s true. We live here, and it’s a very nice place indeed. But we’re far from perfect. There are a few things we should consider doing to ensure our now very visible house is in high gloss order for when our global guests arrive in anticipation of the Games…

London Calling

We’re very sorry, anti-Olympic protestors, but you lost. Badly. And that is shocking really, because the confidence we once had in your leadership had me thinking you really could stop the corporate Olympic juggernaut with Facebook groups, chants, and camouflage pants (personally, I thought you really blended in). We were totally on your side, and still are, so why not move your talents to London right now to prep for 2012? The British people have a long history of responding really well to foreigners willing to give them direction, and your efforts are now, more than ever, desperately needed. Go for gold. Answer the call. And good luck to you.

STFU Urban Whiners

If you live in an urban neighbourhood like Yaletown, Gastown, or the West End, you don’t get to complain about big city realities like noise, crowds, parking, or anything symptomatic of your environs. It’s true that nobody sympathises with your complaints precisely because you’ve elected to live in the place where the things that you complain about are supposed to happen. City Hall thinks you’re a bunch of wankers, for sure. If you want quiet during the Games once you’ve flogged your expansive 500 sqft “loft” for $500 a night on Craigslist, consider moving back to the burbs for good. Read more

Eleven Minutes With Alexa Loo, Olympic Snowboarding Veteran

Alexa Loo is a veteran local snowboarder who will be competing against the world’s best in the 2010 Olympics held here on her own mountain (how sweet is that?). Just a few weeks ago, she won a bronze medal in the Parallel Giant Slalom at Copper Mountain, Colorado’s Race to the Cup, so we’re stoked for her chances this winter. Do us even prouder, Alexa. Freakin’ giv’er.

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Scout Q&A

The thing that you eat that is bad for you that you will never stop eating: Beef jerky.

Default drink: Beer.

Drink you’ll never have again: Rum and coke.

Best thing about the B.C. in the Winter: Skiing/snowboarding in fresh snow.

Best thing about the BC in the Summer: Patios after golfing or mountain biking.

Best hotel room, ever: Mandarin Oriental in Munich.

Top two mountains in the world: Whistler, Blackcomb.

Best post ride indulgence: Ice cream while sitting in a hot bath.

Book you’re reading: Bhagavad Gita. I am intrigued by the Hindu religion/philosophy.

Last place traveled: Soelden, Austria. Or do you mean a vacation travel spot? In that case it is NYC…love it there!

Biggest fear: Being hungry and alone.

Pre-competition superstitions: None.

If you could rename yourself: I wouldn’t, although I probably will change my last name when I get married.

Your ancestry: Dad is Chinese and Mom is French and English. Mixed race kids are the cutest (that is not just my opinion!!).

Under what circumstances would you join the army: If the uniform were pink. No, seriously, if Canada went to war, then I would consider signing up.

Your paternal grandfather’s personal story: He came to Canada from China around 1908 or so as an apprentice in order to avoid the head tax. When he arrived in Vancouver he took an English name: Charlie. He had a Chinese/Canadian restaurant in Flin Flon, Manitoba and then he moved on to a corner store in Vancouver. My grandfather had a stroke when I was 4 and couldn’t really speak. I was not able to speak with him very well or get to know him. He died when I was 8.

What are you proud of: My work ethic that was instrumental in helping me become an Olympian.

The thing that makes you the angriest: When people who cannot fight for themselves are taken advantage of or mistreated, particularly children.

The view from your favourite window: Grouse Mountain with snow on it.

Favourite ice cream flavour: Chocolate.

Most beautiful body of water: Strait of Georgia.

Talent you wish you possessed: I would love to be able to sing Opera.

The trend you wish you never followed, but did: Overalls.

Musical instrument you long to master: Cello.

If you couldn’t snowboard which would you pick up first, a skateboard, skis, or a surfboard? Skis.

Who were you mentors in Snowboarding? Mark Fawcett, Jasey-Jay Anderson.

The game you’re best at: Marco Polo, or pretty much any game played in the pool against my snowboard teammates.

Mac or PC: Don’t care, but I have a Mac currently.

The number of fist fights you’ve been in: 0.

The scariest situation you’ve ever been in: First on scene at a fatal bus crash.

Local person you admire most: Tamara Taggart.

The thing you’re most ashamed of: Being jealous.

Best concert experience ever: Il Trovatore at the Met in NYC last year.

Your first board: Gnu Antigravity.

Describe your tattoos: A thunderbird with a wave coming over it and the sun coming up in the background. I swam and rowed for UBC in and on the water at the crack of dawn.

The dish you’re proud of: Roast lamb.

The thing that makes you the most nervous: People who don’t believe that we should be teaching our kids competition or physical education in school, especially if those people are teachers [helping the students] to prepare for the world after grade school.

Town you were born in: Vancouver.

Old television shows you can tolerate re-runs of: MASH and Little Mosque on the Prairie.

First memory: Playing with play-doh in the kitchen.

What are you listening to as you answer these questions? My stomach growl.

Album that first made you love music: INXS, Kick.

Default junk food: Granola bars.

The career path you considered but never followed: Hotel management. I love hotels!

Two things you miss most about home when you’re on the road: Quiet. My own room.

Two websites you visit every day: Hotmail. Facebook.

The first three things you do every morning: Wash face, brush teeth, eat breakfast.

The thing you’re addicted to: Lip balm. Vaseline Intensive Care.

Biggest hope: World Peace – or at least for kids to grow up playing sports and loving life.

Luckiest moment of your life: When Mark Fawcett agreed to coach the National team.

Favourite book as a child: Encyclopedia Brown.

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This was the 65th interview of what will eventually amount to 500 profiles of people who have made life in BC that much more interesting. At the rate we’re going it’ll take three years, at which time we’ll probably just start shooting for 1,000.

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OTHER COOL PEOPLE

The Anti-Olympic Protesters Should All Be Fired

Last night, Michelle and I were walking down Burrard when the intersection with West Georgia became blocked by a noisy group of about 200 anti-Olympic Games protesters. Cool, right? Many were wearing scarves over their faces with hoodies and parachute pants, and of course they were taunting police, posing for photographs, and chanting indecipherable slogans. In other words, they were generally making asses of themselves and not at all advancing their cause, which is a good one. They were heavily shadowed by at least a dozen police officers, some with video cameras and all wearing that contrived, “aggressive” posture that tends to make you question why anyone would ever want to be a police officer when they train you to act like total dickheads. We followed the protest as it marched in Orc fashion around the Hotel Vancouver, buzzed all the way by helicopters above and lit by the mobile red and blue lights of mustachioed CHIP stand-ins below.

I couldn’t help but think I was witnessing the worst protest I’d ever seen. I’ve seen peaceful ones, extraordinarily violent ones, and even been arrested for “inciting a riot” before. This was pure lameness, as if it’d been conceived by Tweedle Dee and executed by Tweedle Dumb. While I wholly get their motivation (the Olympics are a big waste of resources when so many of Vancouver’s most pressing problems remain decidedly unsorted), they were doing it all wrong.

Here are a few unsolicited suggestions:

Choose The Moment Wisely

If one of the paramount goals of this protest was to make people aware of a set of issues, then picking a moment of the day when visibility is at its highest is just common sense. Either morning or afternoon rush hours would be the best bets. Huge numbers of people are on the streets and the high volume of traffic just begs to be targeted with choke points. Done right, this city could be paralysed by 200 people with 10 people blocking 20 intersections simultaneously. This seemed an entirely amateurish affair designed to work around the schedules of those doing the protesting. Holding it on a cold Thursday night during TV prime time is like yelling at the moon and expecting a response (quite possibly the worst time of the day on the worst day of the week during the worst month of the year). I understand that it was timed with the one year countdown to the Games, but choosing fealty to the exactitude of “time” over seizing the perfect moment was a bad decision, and just the tip of the retarded iceberg these protesters were floating on.

Stay On Message

On the messaging front, it was made abundantly and repeatedly clear that these protesters had invested very little in their efforts beyond a few weak placards, banners seldom held aloft, and a megaphone given to a person whose artistry with the English language was moronic at best (and that’s being kind). We followed the throng for half an hour and not once were we offered a pamphlet, an argument, or a web address where their passions could be given the context it needed to translate to anyone who might be interested in what they were doing. Protests need an oratorical component to drive the engine of malcontent. They don’t require a Ghandi, a Mandela, or a Martin Luther King, but when you take oratory of out the “issue” equation you lose the one thing that might sway the opinions of those whose day you’re disrupting. If messaging isn’t carefully considered – and it really wasn’t in this case – it’s just a gathering of the Mutual Admiration Society, a masturbatory exercise in “hey, get a load of me.” Fucking pointless.

Don’t Dress The Part

The great poetic truth of 21st century anarchism is that…save for other anarchists…no one gives a shit about what they think or say. Why is that? It starts with personal and associative branding evolving as convenient, pigeon-holing markers for those living in complex, urban societies. Today, if person A is wearing a tailored suit and freshly cut hair, there is a good chance that person B with the dreadlocks, camo pants, torch, and black kerchief over their face isn’t going to feel that much in the way of a personal connection. The phenomenon works both ways. It isn’t a Capulet v. Montague thing, and it has nothing to do with archaic notions of “class”. If a particularly deft person was leading the protests, it would have everything to do with accruing results (the conversion of those who might disagree). Enter cognitive dissonance: Person A might absolutely appreciate and respect the ideas of Person B, but when they see disorganisation, sloppiness, and teens kitted as if they’d raided the Anarchist Accessories store, they tend to turn away and yawn. It’s a common enough indictment in the modern era, so I’m surprised protesters seldom take notice and advantage.

Use The Media

Also yawning were the media, who have turned covering protests like last night’s fiasco into a formulaic art form by quoting the one person in the crowd who seems the least lucid, the least capable of stringing coherent sentences together, and the least apt at making themselves look like anything other than a quadrupedal collection of dirt and fungus. That’s not a judgment call, only an observation. Have you ever seen a segment on a “Legalise Marijuana” protest that didn’t include a pull quote from a guy who was so baked that he thought the camera was a lollipop? It’s how the mainstream rolls. They deal in extremes, not nuance. So why not foist them on their own petard? To give you an example of the possibilities, just about every news organisation in the world intently covered a riot in Pakistan back in the Spring of 2007. Were they jihadists raising their shoes above their heads and smacking effigies of George Bush? No. Those sorts of protests are too commonplace to be remotely interesting anymore. What drove the incident to the front page above the fold was that these protesters wore suits as they battled the police. It was Person A versus Person A, and that makes for fantastic optics as far as segment producers and editors are concerned. If it was a choice between protesters in suits and protesters dressed as hooligans, who do you think they’d want to cover? Bottom line: if you want to be noticed, lose the kerchiefs, the gasmasks, the camo gear, and the near-absolute absence of coherence. Otherwise, you are just begging to be ignored. I’m not saying suits are a must, but the couture on display last night suggested the group was hell bent on being stereotyped rather than taken seriously. Was there any media coverage of this protest? I don’t think so. Does that mean the media are in cahoots with a cabal of big bad corporations? Maybe if you’re wearing a hat made of tinfoil. The reason why the media tend to ignore protests like last night’s is because a cat up a tree is infinitely more interesting than 200 people not making much in the way of sense.

Find Competent Leadership

If the point of these protests is to raise awareness of poverty in Vancouver, then these folks are failing miserably. And fail they shouldn’t. Such an issue is too important to be left to people who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. When the only thing passersby are being made aware of is a total lack of discipline and message, fire the imbeciles in charge and tighten the ranks. Though they may only be volunteers, they need to go. If someone shows up at your protest looking like a goon, tell them to beat it. If someone starts blabbering off message to a reporter while wearing a gas mask and the Rage Against The Machine t-shirt their mom bought them, discreetly kick them in the knee caps. If someone says meet up at 3am and we’ll start marching along the seawall, tell them to grow a fucking brain.

To protest against one’s own government is a noble thing, and not only should it be done with a measure of nobility, it should be done wisely. What I saw last night was nothing of the sort, and it’s time these good folks went back to the drawing board. Whatever passion and fire they had was lost, and the people whose minds needed the most convincing just shook their heads and walked past.

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Andrew Morrison is a west coast boy who studied history and classics at the Universities of Cape Town and Toronto after an adolescence spent riding skateboards and working in restaurants. He is the editor of Scout Magazine, the weekly food and restaurant columnist for the Westender newspaper, a contributor to Vancouver and Western Living magazines, and a proud board member of the Chef’s Table Society of BC. He lives and works by the beach in Vancouver.

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