Vancouver before the Olympic storm

Off to Vancouver again … this time, I’ll try to present a burnt offering of money at Duthie Books. (Without, I should add, actually burning the money first.)

I didn’t bother renting a car this trip — it seems wasteful when your morning commute from the hotel to the customer site consists, essentially, of crossing the street, when there’s supermarkets and restaurants and used book pushers and even Mountain Equipment Coop within walking distance. But I should be able to figure out how to take a bus down Broadway to Kitsilano.

It’s that kind of versatility that justifies my staggering salary.

I look forward to the usual productive period of hotel confinement, which should let me get some work done, and also maybe post a review of Jim Harrison’s The Farmer’s Daughter, and perhaps some further ill-considered rambling about screenplays.