After my first visit to Saint Joseph's Oratory since I was 17 (!!), I spent HOURS searching the Mount Royal Cemetery—for a . . . "very specific" tombstone:
Now, why would anyone spend so much time and effort to find just one tombstone (among thousands)?? Well, look again—look carefully. . . .
Still don't see it? Well, if ya' really want to know, why this here particular tombstone is so . . . "special," y'all can click here. Proceed at yer' own risk. (I'm serious.) :) ;)
Here is his real name, 'n stuff:
If ya' really want to go see this one, I can save you MASSIVE timeage. He/it is in block 1300C (or was it C1300?)—anyway, it is off to the right of the "main entrance" (sort of "across from" Saint Joseph's Oratory)—off to the right of those REALLY ritzy underground graves. :P :P
Even though I was runnin' low on memory in my camera (My laptop was in the shop, in Pennsylvania—thus, I couldn't download any of these.), I couldn't help but choose to take the following pic:
:) :)
This is in the Palais des congrès de Montréal. The kids were climbing up this impromptu "slide"—and then sliding down. :) :) The woman in the foreground (I couldn't tell if she was in her teens or thirties, but she was obviously in charge of these guys.) smiled and waved at me, after I took this picture. It was a charming, friendly "Canadian moment." :) :)
Canada RuLz.
I suppose I should talk about french. -I can pretty much speak french. I remember–even being years "out of practice"–still being able to order a sub at Subway. (I did have trouble when he asked what type of fromage (cheese).) Here in Alaska, we've got just pepperjack, provolone, and American. :) I couldn't even understand just what he was askin' (as in, what type of cheese, 'n stuff)—so I just said "oui." He knew I couldn't really speak french, and was just "posing." :)
After a couple of days, though, I started to experience this weird problem. Memories (from high school french, previous trips to Quebec—even from when I was a small child) started "piling up on each other"—and cross-circuiting. At that point, I was worse off than when I'd first got there. :P :P (It was really quite unpleasant. :P )
After five days, however, things started to straighten out. :) This is good—because this was the time I decided to take a drive out of Montreal. (Pretty much everybody in Montreal speaks English—whether they'll admit to it, or not. :) ;) ) I wasn't able to understand the dude who was trying to tell me that I was in the wrong office in Beaupré; however, I was able to get by with everything else. :) :) The woman was really surprised at an order of 4 Big Macs. -Hey, I was on vacation! :) :)
Finally, after seeing a truly astonishing amount of "speed patrol" (for Canada), I was able to reach Saint Anne du Beaupré. For those of you not familiar with the place, this is–and I KID you not–Jesus's Grandmother's ARM:
It is the arm of Mary's mother Anne—and has been on permanent display since something like 1650.
Words fail me.
And here is a picture of the cathedral of Saint Anne du Beaupré—a truly impressive sight. Even being something like 100 yards away (with my back to the fountains), I still had to turn the camera on edge, to capture everything:
And here is a picture of Montmercy Falls:
-Known pretty much simply as "The Waterfall"—or "The Waterfall Outside Quebec [City]."
This was probably the most expensive sight on the trip—as I had to pay 9.25 CAD (Canadian dollars) for parking. When I ~balked at this (by (unconscious) expression only), the woman in the booth said "bonne journey." -I just smiled and nodded. (. . .)
While there, I learned that Quebec [City] was in the process of celebrating its 400th birthday. Wow. (I always said Quebec was/is a "combination of both old and new worlds. . . .")
Beyond the obvious majesty of the sight, this place holds . . . "special memories" for me. -It was here that I first got inklings that I would be spending my life studying/working in physics. The guy who was to become my eleventh grade calculus/physics teacher (After YEARS of fighting, I *FINALLY* got permission to move forward "ahead of schedule." :P Grrrr.), introduced me to the concept of kinetic energy: 1/2 mv2. I thought that that was really cool, and thus began my journey. . . .
Mr. Reisinger has a *LOT* to answer for. . . .
:P :P
;) ;)
I wonder if he's still alive. . . .
On the way back [to Montreal], the WEIRDEST THING happened. . . . I was running low on fuel, and saw this sign with (some incomprehensible french, and. . . .) a maple leaf. Some part of me knew that this was NOT the symbol for "Petro Canada"—however, some "voice" in me kept telling me to TAKE THIS EXIT. (!!)
Well, when one gets off of the main roads in the far north, one . . . gets on to "goat paths" pretty quickly—and this was no exception. :P :P So, here I am, driving through THE WOODS, when suddenly . . . I pass one of those "sugar shack"'s—closed for the season. (You know—those place where they serve boiled maple sugar on a stick, 'n stuff.)
The oddest things is . . . we stopped at one of those when I was 17. (!!) (It was 40 below. :P :P ) -Could it have been this very one?? -Could some part of my mind have remembered that—from riding inside a bus on a dark night? -I doubt I'll ever know. . . .
Weird.
So, I guess that's about it. I consider the trip a COMPLETE SUCCESS—and in every regard. :) :) There were only two things I missed—one was this "back blue-lit cathedral" I remember seeing. After it was too late [to go see it, 'n stuff], my Dad reminded that this was/is "The Cathedral of Notre Dame." -Interesting story about that one: The dude that designed it was an atheist. So impressed was he by his creation, that he converted on the spot. ~:)
The other thing that I didn't get to see was Manicouagan. -I suppose I could've gone—I just wasn't sure I was still young enough for 1,000 miles of driving, in one day. ( :P :P ) Still, it was SO tempting—the Tadoussac Ferry was only somethink like 125 miles "up the road." (. . .) (I can't give you an exact estimate—as everything was in limp-wristed french kilometers. :P :P )
CONCLUSION/ADDENDUM
On the way back, as I was driving out of Albany (INCREDIBLE view at night [from 787]—have thought so for over two decades. :) :) I think I was on [interstate] 90. . . .), I saw off to the left, the most amazing red moon—"banded" by its rising through thin clouds. (It was an awesome sight. :) ) And off to the right, a rather remarkable display of what I thought was heat lightning.
I stopped at my friend's house. He was home this time, and met me a the door with a loaded pistol. Ah, yes—I was back in the states! :) ;)
I told him about my visit on Saturday—I told him I knocked on the door at 3:18 PM (and that I remembered this because My CORDOBA!! has a 318 [cubic inch engine]). :) :) :) :) Well, he checked his log for the sensor in his driveway (something I suspected that a technologically savvy gentleman like himself might have)—and he said, "It shows here, that someone got here at 3:16—and left five minutes after." "Well, I knocked on the door at 3:18," I replied. (Previously to me telling him about this, he didn't know about [the entry in the] the log.) It was cool. :) :)
Soon after, an AMAZING thunderstorm hit (Nope. That wasn't heat lightning. :) ;) )—complete with a temporary power outage. (Living in the [Alaskan] Interior (Where the weather is . . . downright wimpy. :P ), I had forgotten "Thunder that you feel in your SOUL" (as a former grad student here used to put it :) :) ).
We then sat down and had a beer in front of "Dory" (His wide-screen tv—his neighbor's is called "Nemo." :) :) ), and watched "Terror Planet." It was a precious moment of normalacy/sanity—and I don't think my friend will ever–truly–realize just how much I treasured it. I think that that is what one misses the most in academia—sane conversation.
I had planned on driving on through to ~Harrisburg, Pennsylvania—but he convinced me to stay. (This allowed me to have more beer. :) ;) ) Something odd: Upon awakening, I didn't know where I was. This has only happened to me three times—in my entire life. I remembered where the first one was: My Uncle Bill's; however, I couldn't remember the second. -Oddly enough, my friend could—it was his place. :) :) I guess something about that place makes one forget where one is, in the morning. (I'm guessing it's the bone-numbing fatigue from driving there, and a complete sense of comfort/relaxation upon arriving. His house *ROCKS*. :) :)
Up in the morning, off on the Berkshire Spur, and away we [I] went. :) :)
Well, I hope you enjoyed this little link. :) :) I certainly enjoyed the trip—and I'm glad I was able to finish it [this link, 'n stuff]. :) :) It took a little each day for a while; I didn't expect that. (. . .)
