the *sigh* club

When I was in White Rock two weekends ago for Doug's funebration (funeral/celebration) I met a lot of BC natives. Many of those people had been to Powell River and the reviews were excellent. They talked about the beauty of Powell River, the thriving art culture, the affordable living, and the abundant hiking trails. They talked about its environmental friendliness, the kindness of the people, and the quietness of the community.

In one particular conversation a woman in her mid-fourties was delighted that I was living there. She said, "Oh, how nice! There's so much to do there."

I waited, interested.

She went on to say that you can go to Lund, a fishing hamlet at the north end of the city limits, or go to Saltery Bay, at the south end.

I said, "Okay, then what?"

She was taken aback.

Perhaps it's the generation gap. Perhaps at her age going to some place qualifies as doing something. I suppose, by definition, by going someplace you are doing something. For me, going to a new place is "doing something", but then it quickly becomes "looking at something". And then, before you know it, you're back to square one, because "looking at something" and "doing nothing" become virtually synonymous after a certain amount of time.

That's what I'm faced with here at the moment. What do I do when I'm not working?

Sure, I'll go Kayaking when the season comes. I'll definitely go hiking too. I'll probably join the boxing club, and maybe I'll even take up curling.

Last weekend I went to one of the junior hockey games. As usual my foreigness became evident when I sat in the wrong bleachers. It took me well into the second period to realize that if you support the local team you sit behind your team's bench. I just sat where it was less crowded.

So there you go, I did something.

The thing is, the kayaking, the curling, the boxing club, and the hiking are stuff I normally wouldn't do. They have become things I will do for lack of anything else to do. Activities by default.

The other reason I'm not filled with glee and excitement about doing these things is that's it's so structured. The great thing about bars, and parties, is the random element. The fact that you never know what's going to happen. You add alcohol to the mix and ensuing silliness can make for a great evening –or a miserable one, either way it's interesting.

So the question is really, what do I want to do?

Well, I like socializing with good people. I like getting blitzed on the weekend. I like eating a good meal. I like seeing a good movie. And, yes, I like doing nothing. However doing nothing– like getting blitzed, eating, and watching films –is generally better with other actual humans.

The problem is that there's a large vacuous space where all the people my age should be. And, of course, the only people left that are my age have done that aggravating North American thing and are now knee deep in baby shit.

Not that I know the first place to meet people anyway. It's definitely not the pubs, they seemed to be filled with people either singing folk songs along with the folk band, or outright degenerates.

I've been told that if I want to meet people I should join clubs. Essentially, I'll have to pretend to be interested enough in some club to join it, and then be able to hold my own in a conversation about the brilliance of that particular club with it's members.

Or I could start my own club. Call it: 30-Something and Bored Shitless in Powell River, or Group of People That Are Amused by Huge Pick-Up Truck Tires. Membership would may be low, but hilarious.

Of course, how much excitement can I expect from a town that has a bus stop called "Grief Point", which is about 5 kilometers west from "Blubber Bay", which, in turn, is a short water-taxi ride to "Desolation Cove".

You know, I never thought I'd say this, but it would be a whole lot better to be able to share this experience with someone.

I suppose the implication of that statement is that I'm lonely. But, I'm not really. I know how loneliness feels, and this is not it.

Nope, I'm just bored.

I suppose I'll go for another fucking walk.