The journey’s the thing

A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to fly to Vancouver from Nanaimo. Normally when I make this journey I head to Departure Bay, walk on, catch the 257 Express Bus to downtown and five hours later I’ve arrived. The float plane journey, including the Gabriola ferry ride and the stroll to the terminal and the short wait clocked in at approximately one and half hours -- a savings of three and a half hours. You’d think I’d be overjoyed. But a funny thing happened on the way to the Vancouver Harbour Air terminal … I began to miss the BC Ferries journey. Shocking I know but what I began to realize is that sometimes – sometimes – the best adventures happen on the journey to somewhere. Think of the conversations you’ve had with strangers on an airplane, the great expanses of time on a train when the only thing you could do was devour a book, the discovery of a funky café or shop as you wandered from the ferry terminal to the bus station.

Of course, when one is commuting, or has a limited amount of time, then time is of the essence. But if that isn’t the case then take a deep breath, open your eyes and take in the pleasure of the journey (And if you’re travelling by BC Ferries, especially on the weekend … leave the car behind. The glorious essence of the journey becomes somewhat distilled when one is parked in an enormous line-up of cars for more than a few hours.) Bon voyage!

Where the “wild things” shouldn’t be

When my son and I went to see the movie version of Where the Wild Things Are something unusual happened. My seven-year-old son, who loves every single movie he sees (and watches them repeatedly), whether it’s Scooby-doo and the Monster Menace or The Golden Compass, declared, “That’s one I wouldn’t see again.”

This wasn’t the case of a children’s book being made into an adult movie as sometimes happens, because, strangely, I felt the same way. Often we complain about movies leaving parts of our favourite books out. But this time it was what was added to the movie—Max’s background story, imbuing the Wild Things with distinct personalities and creating conflict between them—that was disappointing. As one reviewer in the Globe and Mail said “[Maurice] Sendak’s poetically concise tale is stretched out into what feels like grief-counselling for Muppets.”

The beauty of Sendak’s book is that it isn’t defined. The reader, young and old, fills in the background details with their imagination, as their feelings see fit, expressing their own anger, their own frustration and their own ideas of what a “wild rumpus” is.

That’s why the book is so loved; what’s not in it is as important as what it is. And sometimes, as this movie proved, the mystery is better left alone.

Should we boycott multi-tasking?

A few years ago a scientific study was released proving women are better multi-taskers than men. Both genders embraced it. Women because it made them feel superior and men, well that’s a topic for another column.

Since then women have proudly taken on more responsibility claiming it’s “no problem.” After all, science says they can “do-it-all” and then some.

Lately, I’ve been feeling there’s something singularly wrong with this multi-tasking theory. Take my own experience. My husband says I have an innate ability to misplace things. When I can’t find something, he jokingly tells me to look in the freezer. Just the other day I realized I had in fact put the peanut butter in the freezer. Why? Because I was multi-tasking: tidying the kitchen, making lunch, talking on the phone and brewing an obviously much-needed coffee.

So is this mythical ability of women to multi-task really just that – a myth?

A little on-line research and I had my conclusive answer: yes and no. Women are better multi-taskers. But, too much multi-tasking has negative impacts on work quality and can lead to short-term memory loss. I was delighted I wasn’t at fault for freezing the peanut butter.

So I’ve added one more thing to my “to-do” list: Stop multi-tasking. I’m tired of this juggling act and think it’s time to trumpet the benefits of single-tasking. And I’ll get right on that, after I book my son’s dentist appointment, unpack groceries, make dinner and clean the bathroom. Now, where did I put the toilet brush?