Once around the park and sex still sells...

It is Thursday morning and I am up and preparing for work.

Yesterday I started off towards 2nd Beach and somewhere along the way made the decision to continue first to Siwash Walk (a prayer and a talk with mom) and then onwards right around the seawall, my first complete tour in over 2 years since the devastating wind storm.

The tide was way out when I started and had a deep reddish tinge but even at low tide with the eastern base of Siwash Rock exposed to the sun and wind, the western side was still taking the direct hit of surf, which smacked the base of the rock in a slamming boom, white fingers of spray hurtling skyward.

I was bareheaded but carrying a cap for backup as the sun was quite intense although the air was cool enough for me to keep my jacket on.

By the time I got to the concession stand at the water park just past the bridge I decided I had best fuel up as the walk was taking its toll and I hadn’t eaten and so I ordered a small fries and polished that off quickly, before making a pit stop in the washroom and then continuing on.

I passed HMCS Discovery, the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club and the Vancouver Rowing Club before heading under the overpass to Lost Lagoon. At this point with the sun directly in my face, I opted to put on my cap shielding my face with its brim.

I meandered around the eastern side of the lagoon loitering with the ducks and swans and then made my way directly across the park to 2nd Beach where I checked the time. It was now approaching 5 and I had started my walk about 1:30 p.m.

As I looked out at the water, I saw that the tide was now mostly in and that the reddish tinge to the water had been replaced by a cloudy ochre.

I was walking pretty slowly by this time and decided that I would avoid the trip to Safeway and go straight home.

A young man his back against a log was strumming his guitar at English Bay. Two young girls who had just braved the surf sat giggling and shivering on a bench, wrapped in their towels. They were the only ones brave enough to attempt a swim. It was still quite cool, and I still had my jacket on.

Once home, I fought off the urge to lie down and repaired to my computer where I checked emails and caught up on my journal. I watched a bit of news on TV and made myself something to eat.

I was looking forward to the final episode of American Idol which I have been following closely this year. Last night the judges all agreed that David Archuleta with his masterful performance of all three songs had delivered a knockout blow and that David Cook didn’t stand a chance. I thought the same.

We were all wrong. Sex still sells in pop music and despite David Cook’s tears of sure defeat the night before and his weak delivery of a song chosen by mogul Clive Davis that seemed to be a swan song and kiss of death, the girls in my office were right.

David Cook won by 12 million votes!