Nah man, we'll just stay here. These rocks will become our second home! Just watch, wait, and see.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
**Editor's note: As noted in the following article, pay no mind to the clever message sent out earlier this week, the Holly-day shaker is definitely ON for this Friday, December 16th. For those of you going to the curling party cruise by Holly after! Call or text Ryan van Berkel if there's any confusion. See you there!
Happy Holidays
Amongst holiday party goers his name is legendary. From ugly sweater parties to Value Village formals Ryan Van Brisebois has thought of it all.
Choice cuts of meat? Check Assortment of cheeses? You bet.
And so with great anticipation the masses await the “Holly”day party. This party promises to be the social event of the season, full with nervous grins and enough mats for everyone to put their shoes on. Brisebois never hesitates to throw a shin dig when occasion calls. Looking for a great living room dance party? Well you found it, like a clutch 8th ender draw, it’s in “da house”. Call the vet, tell him to stay at home, we just buried that puppy. Some highlights to be hotly watched are the ubiquitous “kinky limbo” and straight face contests, try to break a smile, the host dares you. This could be the event of the season so be prepared to pack a disposable camera, the pictures may be incriminating. “The guest line up is one of the hardest to crack in the city”, reports party ambassador Arctic Jester Tooley. “Sean Cronin is coming …he didn’t know that the Jets were back…but he heard about this party”. Nervous about not being invited? No worries, if you receive a text stating that there is no party or the house is full these are simply clever devices to let you know that yes, it’s on, come over and bring some Clamato juice. Yes December 16th will be the icing on the cake for a glorious year in Peg city. Talk about party.
Um…there’s food, drinks, dancing, people…ahh, friends, smokes, sweaters, good times.
Salisbury House’s ‘Yes We Can’ philosophy apparently does not apply to Aaron Schott. The Winnipeg institution is in the spotlight again today after its chocolate glazed donuts gained worldwide exposure yesterday on Twitter from TV star Will Arnett.
Today’s news isn’t quite as light-hearted: an insider with a prominent Winnipeg law firm has confirmed that former Elk-Ida defense counsel W.D. Stewart, Esq. has been retained by Salisbury House Restaurants Inc. to represent it in a lawsuit against VBYC sailor Aaron Schott. Sals CEO Burton Cummings alleges that Mr. Schott is in the process of building a South-East Asian t-shirt sales empire under the moniker ‘Mr. Big Nip’. If allegations prove to be true the name would infringe on the trademark for the name of Sals’ signature hamburger.
Anyone who has been unfortunate enough to see Mr. Schott shirtless can confirm that he does indeed have huge nips. VBYC Commodore Bryan ‘Safety First’ Van Sleezy cringed when asked about them. He explained: They’re like big pieces of salami – and not little kind you get on the Charcuterie plate at Segovia. More like the bologna style you might see on a sub from Quizno’s. I’d even say they’re almost as big as the back bacon slices they serve at the Moonlight Inn.
Longtime friend of Elk-Ida windsurfing and Windsurfyourgoddamnfaceoff’s Asian correspondent Pat Meeler confirmed that Schott was indeed selling t-shirts. Mr. Meeler reported:
Being a VB sailor myself, in fact winner of the Young Masters award back in 1993, I was happy to show Aaron around when he arrived in Thailand. I’ve known the guy for awhile but it still surprised me when he immediately cut holes in all his t-shirts to expose his gargantuan nipples. He said they were getting too hot. I was weirded out, but I thought ‘whatever, it’s Thailand. There’s all sorts of fucked-up shit going on here.’ Anyways, over the next few days, I started seeing other people around the beach and the bars with shirts cut in a similar fashion. I think it’s hideous, but what the fuck do I know; they don’t teach this shit in engineering school.
Schott soon began buying cheap t-shirts, cutting the nipples out, and selling them on the beach. It wasn’t long before he had a small workshop operating on cheap child labor. The children would embroider “Mr. Big Nip” onto cheap Thai cotton shirts before Mr. Schott cut crude holes in the shirts and took them the beach to sell at extraordinary markups to mushroom milkshake addled tourists. Meeler says he didn’t think there was much to it at first, but later realized that Schott had bigger ambitions.
Everyone was wearing these stupid shirts! I mean, he was making good money. He had a new Hobie Cat and a nice beach hut, but when representatives from American Apparel and H&M started showing up I knew this was a big deal. My mind was blown; I had to get back to Laos where shit’s real.
The recognition from the two international retailers may be Mr. Schott’s downfall. The lawsuit involving Salisbury House threatens to shut him down - W.D. Stewart is known for large settlements and it’s very likely that he just doesn’t like Schott for one reason or another. He has additional incentive to wrap the suit up before his highly publicized rooftop wedding at the Birchwood this coming summer.
Mr. Schott’s loose association with Elk-Ida could also hurt him. Several members of the organization are well known to Sals CEO Burton Cummings. In one incident, at a party he threw, he caught two Elk Ida members in his bedroom rolling joints on his gold records. Cummings has also on multiple occasions happened upon several Elk Ida members entertaining women in his backyard pool. Though these individuals managed to escape harm or punishment, Aaron Schott may not be so lucky. Cummings had a distant look in his eye when seen at the Charleswood Sorrento’s recently. He reportedly told Dan the bartender that while he’s had his hands on a lot of nips in his life, he’d really like to take down Mr. Big Nip himself and teach those Elk-Ida creeps a lesson.
Al Jazeera was involved in yet another run-in at a club, this time sparring with a friend of Beardo’s before he was kicked out of the opening of DJ Frazermania’s country music party “Croppin Grain”. For such a little guy, he sure does start a lot of trouble.
An unnamed source tells the Free Press that Al Jimmy "exchanged terse words with a friend of Beardo’s, who lunged over the table at Ajeee, and Ajeee lunged back. Security stepped in quickly and broke it up before any punches were thrown. Two security guards led him out holding his hands behind his head. His girlfriend, Patrick Chipman, was clearly upset and ran down the stairs after them. Outside, he fell onto a barricade. Swearing, he picked himself up and ran off." Strange, considering Beardo and Al Jimmy were palling it up earlier at a screening for The Windsurfing Movie II.
Al Jimmy’s people deny this, saying the stock broker, "actually left the club early as planned ... he went to Papa George’s for a small vegetarian pizza and a diet coke and later went home to his 1 bedroom walk up ... exiting through a crowded room was apparently misinterpreted. No altercation occurred." Maybe it was just somebody who looked like Al Jazeera. There's a lot of those around these days.
Winnipeg - W. D. Stewart announced last week that he is set to marry his beau, Jessica G., next summer. Stewart has risen to prominence - and notoriety - in prairie legal circles for his successful defences of Elk-Ida members in a handful of recent criminal trials. "I'm totally happy for him, bra" said Pen Beterson, a mainstay on Mr. Stewart's client list.
Insiders confirm that Rev. Daniel 'Schootsie Muffin' Schott will preside over the service, which is expected to take place on the roof of the Birchwood Motor Inn, at sunset, sometime in July.
Though Mr. Stewart and Ms. G. have been dating for a number of years, Mr. Stewart was still, for some reason, introducing her as "my new girlfriend" as recently as this past Thanksgiving.
Las Vegas oddsmakers have already taken bets as to who will snag the prestigious position of best man. The list of candidates is a virtual who's-who of the jet-setting 40-something crew: Bell and Ateah are the odds-on favourites. Dan Angus is the (very) dark horse.
Mr. Stewart was unavailable for comment but yesterday, when a reporter asked him who would be footing the bill for the festivities, he was heard to have muttered, "Who do you think?"
Winnipeg Jets defenseman Dustin Byfuglien was awarded an honorary lifetime membership to Elk-Aida Windsurfing after his arrest last month on Lake Minnetonka, MN for operating a watercraft while impaired. After passing a breathalyzer test a Hennepin County Sheriff’s Office drug expert concluded that the Jets fan favourite known as Big Buff was high while operating his boat citing: “his eyes were glassy, bloodshot, and showed a lack of smooth pursuit.”
At the honoree ceremony thick with Jets jerseys, some crested with the moniker “Big Puff”, Elk-Aida representative Ben Peterson offered some sage legal advice to Big Buff: “We really dig your style man but lose the motor, cops can’t touch you under sail power only brah.”
When pressed by media for comment on his recent arrest the understated but unflappable Byfuglien offered only a puzzling one line statement:
Ottawa - Roger Ritsema shocked the sailing world last spring when he announced that the summer of '11 would be his last as a member of the Victoria Beach Yacht Club. A former cab driver and long-time Hobie Cat racer, Roger came to epitomise a Victoria Beach generation even as his peers sold out to the glamour of engineering in east Asia or to selling highly caffeineated beverages to skiers, snowboarders, and other west coast kids who weren't good at hockey as kids.
Such a stalwart Winnipeger was Mr. Ritsema that few thought the bright lights and power politics of Ottawa would chames him. But, as this reporter found, no sooner had the J. dried on the Ritsema yacht club locker than had Roger sold out to the high-flying Ontario lifestyle.
I met Mr. Ritsema at the downtown Ottawa Hy's, where, he told me (repeatedly), "he makes his big deals, obviously." Mr. Ritsema appeared to have gained weight, a shock to those who remembered him in his trademarked beach stance: gauntly thin, wrapped in an oversize towel, his head under the shade of a Green Team '96 hat and his eyes hidden behind Hobie sunglasses. Some maintain to this day that Radar's look is an pale impression of Ritsema. He seems to have left that look behind. To lunch he wore a power suit, a gaudy silver watch and what he referred to loudly as "Gucci-bucks-nigga-no-laces."
This reporter expressed surprise that Mr. Ritsema had abandoned a burgeoning academic career in the field of natural sciences for the world of commercial real estate development. "It was a natural switch," said Ritsema, "I went from studying the survival of the fittest to being the fittest." He took a pull on his glass of a rare '58 merlot. "This is me surviving."
Reluctant to reminisce about his down to earth prairie upbringing, Mr. Ritsema preferred to steer the conversation back to his new home. "There's just this raw energy about Ottawa," he said, "it's like a dose of Manhattan mixed with a shot of Ibiza." I mentioned that watching bureaucrats trudge from home to office and back again under gray skies hadn't given me that impression. "You gotta live here to get it I guess," said Ritsema, lighting a cigar as he leaned back in his cavernous chair.
As lunch wound down and Mr. Ritsema spent more and more time touching his hand to his in-ear Bluetooth, I pitched him one last question. Surely, I wondered, he must miss the time spent drinking casual beers and sharing laughs on cold 'Peg City nights.
Mr. Ritsema sniggered as he picked up his platinum Visa and pushed back his chair. "Please," he said, "the night life here makes August long at VB look like Deborah Hill's 16th birthday party."
Ben Peterson no doubt expected to his Grandma to keep, well, mum after he stole the family’s laser and took it for a joy-sail on a summer weekend.
No such luck. Now the 25-year-old Victoria Beach local is facing nine months in jail.
His Grandmother, Barb was out of town when he set off in the boat with a friend – neither one of them experienced sailors. Unluckily for him, Mr. Peterson ran into trouble off the north side of Elk, and after firing a flare for help, had to be rescued and towed to shore.
His Gram Ma told the VB Herald that she felt obligated to go to the police and teach him a lesson; though making the decision to do so was “absolute hell.” But it was a matter bigger than the ruined boat, she explained. (The family has since sold it, the Hearld reported.) Rescue workers had to spend time fetching her son from the lake when they could have been busting “beer drinkers and dope smokers” on the beaches. “It’s not what you want as a parent but have to do what you feel is right,” she said.
The penalty may seem stiff but Mr. Peterson did have a few more offences on his conscience: two stolen sandwiches and a bag of roaches were also found on the boat, and he admitted to stealing two coozies from Jers, and skipping out on several family meals – though the judge told him stealing his Grandma’s boat was his most serious offence.
When reporters asked her about her relationship with her Grandson, she claimed: “We will be fine. He accepted he was in the wrong and that’s it as far as we’re concerned.”
Of course, Mr. Peterson still has to serve out his jail time (and carry a criminal record with him).
Gibson Road, Victoria Beach—VBYC Expansion Project Manager hopeful Jeremy Ritsema fired back Wednesday at critics who have said the V.B. contractor’s ability to lead the project would be greatly hindered by his frequent, hours-long blackouts from which he invariably awakens covered in beer. "This is a complete nonissue—who among us hasn't gotten the occasional blinding headache only to wake up totally nude two days later in an abandoned church, covered from head to toe in Old Milwaukee and with absolutely no recollection of what happened in the intervening time?" said Ritsema, later adding that he is otherwise healthy and, in fact, is fairly certain he gets a significant amount of aerobic exercise during his prolonged fugue states. "I think I can handle the job of running the expansion project just fine even if now and again I have one of my little spells where I come to in the middle of Elk Island tightly gripping a crunched pack of butts in one hand and a ragged piece of what I think was Ken Taylor’s wet suit in the other." Many club members have expressed doubt regarding Ritsema’s project managing chances, citing the 1988 loss of Aaron Schott to Ben Pederson after it was discovered the once prominent Scott descendant had cooked and eaten a cold cheese sandwich while sleepwalking.
Osama Bin Ripping – The iconic Elk-Aida leader who inspired a global windsurfing jihad against wind sponges – was killed by Victoria Beach Special Forces during a fierce firefight in the sand dunes known as the bat caves near Clubhouse Beach. After his identity was confirmed he was buried at sea, a VB Police official stated.
Bin Ripping has been at the top of the Victoria Beach Police's most wanted list for over a decade, due to the infamous July 11th 2000 or "7/11" atrocities in which Bin Ripping masterminded a series of Elk-Aida coordinated shredding attacks on epic waves off of Clubhouse beach resulting in unprecedented loss of girlfriends among windsponges. Special Ops team member Lee Stevens remembers the incident vividly: "I was pretty young but I still remember my older brother (Special Ops team leader) Lindsay Stevens losing his girlfriend on 7/11 to those Elk-Aida creeps, we both decided then and there that we would devote our lives to finding Bin Ripping and rooting out Elk-Aida windsurfers from our beach community for good".
While the loss of their almost mythical leader surely deals a blow to Elk-Aida, it is believed that they will come back even stronger in coming years as secession plans have been rumored to be implemented and recruitment efforts stepped up within the highly secretive group. Indeed they will likely rally around the passing of their leader, form new bonds, and solidify plans for further attacks on the windy shores of V.B, very likely resulting in further loss of girlfriends among windsponges.
The approximate location of Bin Ripping's watery grave has already become a sort of Mecca among Elk-Aida members as a small flotilla of boards can be seen most days, with a ritualistic cloud of smoke disappearing in the breeze.
Newly elected Commodore Ryan Van Berkel took advantage of the beautiful spring weather last weekend as he hauled out his 1970’s era sailboat and dusted off his golf clubs. Alas, fiberglass never met water nor did iron brush grass. In a surprising but classic case of power induced rage, Van Berkel denounced mono-hull sailing and golf in one aggressive strike. As blow after blow rained down and the 7-iron pierced the Bombardier Invitation’s hull, a lone observer couldn’t help but admire the improvement in Van Berkel’s golf swing. The middle handicapper and occasional playing partner of Van Berkel finally saw his friend use some of the tips he’d passed along. “It was difficult to watch. I mean, I love sailing and sailboats - mono-hulls especially. But he was shifting his weight and keeping his head down just like I’ve tried to tell him so many times. The reverse-c position of the follow through was Hogan-esque. I’m considering having the fellas in the pro shop paint some little sailboats on his golf balls.” Photographic evidence of the incident was not available at press time, but interested parties can view the battered remnants of the hull at the Traverse Bay Dump by contacting Lorne Anderson at 756-2155.
Winnipeg - Last night history was made as Ryan van Berkel became the youngest and first non-Winnipeg-born man to have been named Commodore of the Victoria Beach Yacht Club. In his calculated ouster of former Commodore Kenneth Taylor, Mr. van Berkel executed perhaps the most deft palace coup in leisure club politics since Billy Jean King managed to (briefly) hold the Chairmanship at Augusta National in the early 1970s.
Mr. van Berkel's campaign was a discrete and sure-handed manipulation of the gears of power. The Victoria Beach Council was firmly onside and the local business lobby, led by captain of industry Daniel S. Schott, quietly made it known that it would not oppose Mr. van Berkel, who himself comes from a bureaucratic background.
However, the van Berkel administration has already come under fire for being close to Portage Avenue, Manitoba's gilded centre of finance. His senior adviser, AJ Tooley (who was thought to be a candidate for the commodoreship before his girlfriend became embroiled in a corn-related licensing scandal), is a well-known commodities broker and has long moved in the posh circles of prairie money managing. There have been complaints from the right, too, who worry that Matthew McLeod, once crew to Mr. van Berkel and now a leader in the Manitoba Teacher's Union will hold too much sway in the nascent cabinet.
On election night, though, it was nothing but hearty handshakes and a surprisingly greasy snack table. In an electric moment Commodore-elect van Berkel took the stage to thunderous applause and the familiar strains of Eric Clapton's 'My Father's Eyes'. Victoria Beach, having grappled with the Erosion Question throughout a frigid and grueling winter, is a tense community these days and he acknowledged that he has much work to do in healing a house divided.
Unsurprisingly, he echoed another leader, Abraham Lincoln, who also seized the reigns of power as strife and misunderstanding threatened his community. "From Sunset all the way to Mike Bay," said Mr. van Berkel, "we are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every barbecue and deck to every sports day and masquerade all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Beach, when again touched, as surely it will be, by the better angels of our nature."
A somewhat puzzled crowd cheered and looked on in awe at their new leader.
In 1988 she began designing swimwear for Huit and, later, wetsuits for Neil Pryde.
Personal life
Born in California and raised in Hawaii and Tahiti, Jenna Severson is a daughter of John Severson, photographer, film director, and founder of Surfer magazine, and his wife, the former Louise Steir.[1][3] She has a younger sister, Anna Severson (born 1965).
Jenna de Rosnay has been married twice:
BaronArnaud Louis Fromet de Rosnay (1946–1984), a French playboy, photographer, and long-distance windsurfer who was the youngest son of French painter Schootzy de Rosnay and his wife, the former Natacha Koltchine. Arnaud de Rosnay had previously been married to Jenna Ullburger, daughter of Sir Gary Ullburger, an heiress to a Bolivian Beer Fortune, and a granddaughter of Doña Maria Cristina de Borbon y Bosch Labrus, Duchess of Durcal.[2] Jenna Severson and Arnaud de Rosnay married in 1981, and in 1984, he disappeared at sea while attempting to windsurf from China to Taiwan.[3]
Patrice Milligan, a Canadian playboy, considered amongst his ranks as modern day royalty and the heir to a cooperate empire. His family's diverse network of businesses dominate sectors such as finance, automobiles sales, professional sports and nationwide mainstream vintage shops. Their short romance was limited to a “blunch” in Yorkville, but had an immense impact on Patrice. He spoke of the relationship in his recently released Biography “Oysters & Antique Furniture”.
“After a stimulating three-hour conversation about personal philosophies, career aspirations and their shared passion for Thai food, tennis and Billy Joel, Washington State junior Patrice Milligan was caught off guard by sailing sensation Jenna De Rosnay's off-handed mention of her boyfriend of three years. "Well, that's just fuckin' great," Milligan said after the conversation. "I dropped every hint in the book. You'd think she'd have picked up on it. I even asked her about her bracelet: Gift from her father, she says. Smooth sailing, I figure. Shit."
Emmanuel de Buretel, a recording executive who is the founder of Because Music and the former chairman and CEO of EMI Recorded Music Continental Europe.[6] They have three daughters.
Click the link above the scope the full list, our just read our snippet, below. Next year: Top ten or bust.
17. Windsurf Your Face Off This anonymous blogger believes that the rocks can become a second home. Windsurfing related thoughts from techniques to laws are often discussed. Adult language is also included.
My friend Beerdo used to be cool. So did Beachcombers at The Forks. Beyond the fact that he is sometimes called the beachcomber, Beerdo’s fortunes seem to parallel the rise and fall of the beach themed bar and grill, even to the casual observer.
Beachcombers is a casual dining experience located in the southeast corner of the Forks Market – “a favorite destination for fun, food, and beverages. It boasts not just one, but two of the city’s best outdoor patios!” The restaurant is situated directly below the 4-star Sydney’s and occupies the former Branigan’s space. The fresh theme of Beachcombers and its optimistic management got the restaurant off to a hot start as the hip downtown crowd and weekend partiers embraced the laid back atmosphere, bold colours, and anything-goes attitude of the staff. In recent years, the colours have faded, the management has become disenchanted, and the staff wear black. In a recent visit only a handful of patrons were visible and most were more interested in the beverage menu than the higher margin food menu. Beachcombers seems destined to the same fate as Branigan’s under Prairie Oyster in the late 1990’s. Perhaps the gravity of an increasingly serious world is squeezing out the 90’s era demand for the carefree atmosphere of a beach themed restaurant. Perhaps that same gravity is squeezing out demand for a beach themed guy like Beerdo.
Beerdo was at the height of the VB windsurfing boom at the start of the Millennium. Indeed, he was a pioneer member of Elk-Ida. An impressive quiver of the latest gear, a sweet beach cruiser bicycle, awesome shades, and the most fashion forward haircut around had Beerdo on top of the VB game. Women swooned when Beerdo buzzed the tower in the footstraps while the rest of the early Elk-Ida members struggled to maintain a plane. At some point (some say around the time Beachcombers discontinued the 2-4-1 Marguerita special) Beerdo began to be seen less often at VB and on the water even more seldom. As the rest of the Elk-Ida members stepped their windsurfing skills up, Beerdo’s skills no longer shone. Rumour has it he once turned down a cold beer. He even sold the VW Rabbit convertible. It was a tough time for fellow Elk-Ida members as they saw their good buddy Beerdo slip away.
On the other hand, maybe Beerdo was just chamesing with the times. Maybe he should never have been questioned. He’s all of a sudden looking pretty darn good – university degree, late model Mini, and a pretty girlfriend. He’s even earned his level 1 Windsurfing accreditation and was seen on the water more than a few times last summer. He's always at all the hottest jams. Come to think of it, maybe Beerdo never really lost it. Perhaps Beachcombers should take a long look at Beerdo and his Constant Struggle for relevance – they could use some tips.
While the four members had succeeded in sailing off the remnants of the previous soiree, the prospect of another social gathering had them in an amiable mood. Some wistful glances around the club steered the conversation toward the trophy case and the inevitable appraisal of past achievement within the club. The names of each of their beloved fathers sailing accomplishments rung throughout the rafters and joyful proud smiles were shared.
The casual reminiscence began to turn solemn however as the sailors inevitably began to compare their achievements with that of their fathers. Soon the brooding cloud of generational expectations made its familiar presence known and the men broached the much thought about but rarely discussed topic:
“People are always saying you know you’re on the wrong side of 25, by this age he’d already achieved this or done that. It’s hard to live up to, you know? I mean obviously I’m trying to make the MSA a big deal but I’m always in his shadow, by 25 he’d already petitioned to get the Sunfish into the Olympics, and I’m at least 5 years away from owning a convertible.”
“He was a three time laser champion and you know was definitely never directly against windsurfing. I’m not sure I ever had a chance, I mean they called him Big Cat, I’m called Chames.”
“Yeah by my age Kron had already logged 500 races and helped chart the north basin”
“I guess if you put the two of our accomplishments together it’s at least respectable, but you know, he’s just one man”.
Deep sighs were heard all around, broken only by one sailor piping up:
Roggy Ritzma isn’t your typical amateur athlete. The scrawny, long-haired, baby-faced Hobie Racer looks more suited to skateboarding around the parking lot of your local 7-11 than on a CYA certified race course.
And it’s not just his style and physique. Mr. Ritzma’s dietary habits defy what’s expected of an athlete, too. According to the Victoria Beach Herald, he regularly dines at Local fast-food burger chain Juniors. A typical meal consists of two servings of French fries, a chocolate-strawberry shake and three Double-Doubles (each consists of two beef patties and two slices of cheese stacked between a bun). But he skips the lettuce and tomatoes. “I’m not a big vegetable guy,” the 168-pound Mr. Ritzma told the newspaper. The total calorie count of one of these meals is roughly 3,150, whereas the typical active male consumes about 2,000 calories in an entire day.
Washed up Free Press journalist Jay Kirby asked whether he knew what his cholesterol levels were like, Mr. Ritzma laughed. “Probably not very good,” with some added cynicism. “But my metabolism is through the roof.”
As we mentioned last week, plenty of high-performance amateur sailors subsist on fatty, salty diets that would make most sports nutritionists cringe. So how much does diet really affect athletic performance? “The traditional line of sports nutrition is: ‘Nutrition can’t make an average athlete elite, but it can make an elite athlete average,’ ” says Winnipeg registered dietitian Chris Bell.
If you aren’t athletically gifted already, no diet will make you great at sports, he says. But someone who is gifted won’t perform at their best if they don’t eat well. Their endurance, and ability to stop and go during play, will be affected. So, the lesson here is not to eat like Mr. Ritzma. Rather, the two-time Red Eye winner could actually sail even better if only he’d eat fewer burgers, and a few more vegetables.
Club Review : V.B.Y.C "Kenneth 'N Wonderland" by: Rogelio Ritsema
I’m concerned about the future of the V.B.Y.C. I mean, I recently heard the club compared to the Senior Scene. Yikes. A survey of the current landscape doesn’t exactly inspire hope, either, as a serious lack of creativity and innovation seems to be the rule rather than the exception. Enter Al Jimmy: newly minted creative chairman of the Expansion Committee, looking much like a sailing elder statesman and part of a board reserved for living legends.
Tooles is fresh out with his 10th set of plans, which rumor has it mostly fell into the hands of a close relative. If you’re looking for a game-changer — or for ol Al Jimmy to shine the way forward — you will probably be disappointed. These are steady, cohesive and mature plans from a seasoned architectural master. The lines don’t stray far from middle of the road, running the gamut from modern, to expressionist (with only one storage area for rigged windsurf sails — that’s a start) but I wouldn’t say they’re much more than mediocre. The plans are classic and don’t focus on: smokin’ blunts, terrorizing wind , getting ladies, hatin’ on kite boarders, stackin’ that cash and crushing brew.
Given his influence on local sailing and lasting impression on learn to sail students, people will always be curious about what Al Jimmy is up to and willing to give him a chance. That said, it seems like the club really needs him right now and I’m not sure this set of plans delivers in that regard. Although, you know, the more I think about it, maybe Tooles steady hand on the tiller is exactly what V.B Sailing needs right now.
Winnipeg - Having made few moves for months, AJ Tooley (pictured at left) suddenly seems to be girding for a pitched battle with Ken Taylor for the Victoria Bach Yacht Club's Commodoreship.
Matthew Metcalfe, a downtown Winnipeg property manager has confirmed that he is renting space in a post-war walk-up on Broadway Avenue to Mr. Tooley and that on the the first of this month, staff moved boxes of files and equipment into the space.
The activity on Broadway Avenue corresponds to Ryan van Berkel - the rumoured Tooley campaign manager - being suddenly summoned from Mexico, where he was vacationing with family. Mr. van Berkel's brother and spokesman, Stuart van Berkel, said that no final decision as to whether Mr. Tooley will run has been made but when it is it will be announced, as always, via letter to Jian Ghomeshi.
Ken Taylor, widely recognized as a master political strategist (though generally a lousy sailor), has not declared whether he will seek re-election. Though Mr. Taylor is widely seen to be vulnerable some pundits feel sailors would be reluctant to vote a sitting Commodore out of office in a year where a major expansion is planned.
In addition, a brewing controversy is beginning to engulf several of Mr. Tooley's closest associates. Two days ago a video was leaked to the press showing Roger and Jeremy Ritsema at a boozy lunch with both Charlie Sheen and John Galliano, two celebrities who are currently mired in serious and thoroughly distasteful public scandals.
And finally there is the issue of the leaked photo of a young Mr. Tooley holding a science class presentation that appears to suggest, in detail, what causes WIND. The question has evaded scientists for thousands of years. If it turns out to be true that Mr. Tooley has long understood the physics behind WIND he could be indicted by the VBYC for failing to disclose his knowledge and participating in numerous Bingo Derbies on false pretenses. A committee has been struck and will investigate.
Recent headlines about a Memphis woman and her pizza habit have Elk-Ida Windsurfing members recalling a similar story involving compatriot Ryan Van Breezy.
Over the past year or so, Van Breezy had been frequenting the Pembina Highway location of rib shack Tony Roma's. Affectionately known as 'TR's' by Van Breezy and his associates, the restaurant is renowned for its signature ribs but perhaps more popular for the 37 cent wings. Van Breezy sometimes walked the 2 blocks or so from his Holly Ave. home, but more often piloted his 98 Toyota Camry down the convenient backlane access to the parking lot. Staff got to know him by his regular order and his method of payment. Lounge Waitress Sarah spoke fondly of him; "he always walked in here looking really unimpressed but seemed to warm up after a while. I remember he always ordered the spicy BBQ flavor. He asked about the suicide wings once but never ordered them. Usually only Asians order those. Yeah and he always paid with plastic. He said it was easy. We all really liked him." Sarah said the staff didn't see him for a couple weeks and got worried. "We know he travels domestically quite a bit but we hadn't seen him in a couple weeks and we got worried."
Staff began casually looking for him in neighborhood restaurants like the Daly Burger and Dough Boy's Pizzeria but found no sign. Staff were still optimistic until manager Richard Ratball spotted a 98' grey Camry parked around the back of Delicious Vegetarian across the street. "We panicked. I mean, we have alot of valued customers here, but business picks up when you get a guy that good looking in here. He always had his hair done really nicely. He brought alot of class to the place and we were worried that he'd changed his eating habits." Ratball followed Van Breezy home one day after he saw the Camry pull out of the parking lot of the neighborhood Subway and slipped a couple of Tony Roma's gift certificates into the mailbox. The strategy worked. Van Breezy was back at TR's a couple of days later and was visibly excited. He was overheard telling his friends about how he's trying to beef up so he can more easily carry his windsurfing gear to and from the beach.
Van Breezy's friends credit the staff at TR's for their vigilance and concern and thank them for bringing their buddy back from a tough period in his life. They say that his love for wings, burgers, and beer has never been so strong.
Paramedics found a severely hypothermic wind sponge in the snow in Toronto's east end Friday morning.
A passerby saw the windsport couch jockey, in his late-20s, lying in the snow in a small field near the corner of College Avenue and Henry Street, in Toronto, just before 8 a.m.
He was taken to Scarborough General Hospital after paramedics found him alive but unresponsive and suffering extreme disappointment related to partying, EMS spokeswoman Kim McCoors said.
It's not clear how many beers the gentleman had in the snow as temperatures dropped overnight.
“He was definitely in a very compromised situation related to cold beer,” Ms. McCoors said.
Police don't suspect foul play and haven't yet identified the man. Constable Wendy Miller said he was still in a social life-threatening condition as of mid-morning Friday.
Confessions Of A Wind Sponge by Jackson Parks Updike
Season 1 Episode 1
"Buy Rocks, Get Beaches"
This is Jackson Parks Updike II, writing from the best city on Earth, Toronto Ontario. I've applied for membership in the Elk Aida Windsurfering Fraternity. As a condition of my application, I've been asked by the council to express my views on Elk Aida related issues, on this website. Ben Peterson, James Thomas, Baron Shoot, Roger Ritzema and Ryan Van Berkelle are so cool that they've blessed me with this forum to explain and elucidate the finer points of my candidacy.
See, dear reader, I am a wind sponge. Although interested in boat shoes, hip shades and fresh babes, I have always found windsurfering unduly challenging, and sailing a bit gay. In an effort to bolster their social network and party scenery, the wind heads of Elk Aida have been forced to consider Wind Sponges for gang membership. In the words of Ben Peterson "Wind Sponges are herbs that do not shred." I say, Wind Sponges soak it up to turn calm nights off into full on blow-outs.
Although my chief use for water is to freeze for inclusion in breakfast ceasars, I intend to use this column to highlight the events, legends, personalities, passtimes, libations, tunes and togs that are pertinent to the interests of the wind and lake community.
For my virgin installment, I'd like to delve into the proposed plan to build a retaining wall and storm fighting battlement along Alexander and King Edward beaches. Sources in Winnipeg indicate that this plan has been shouted down as "petty secrecy" and "Bourgeois beachicide" as well as numerous other clusters of epithets that are not fit to print here, or in the pages of Uninformed Rage Quarterly (for which I also write a column called "Just Be Mad.")
If I may throw my straw boater into the proverbial ring, I think that the beaches would benefit from the construction of a large opulent boardwalk in place of the current beach. After all, it would provide a spot for social activity, mimosa stands and a mental as well as physical high ground to keep the algae off our vintage topsiders. Imagine, we could sun ourselves without sand in our shoes, on our legs or in our pomade. Sand has long been a pesky obstacle to beach optimization for us gentlemen of leisure. Give the beach back to those who epitomize the expression "Life's a beach." We will put our life vibe down hard into the land and before long your undrinkable barf spark lake water will flow out of the tap as dry goose martinis. Extend a blue cheese stuffed olive branch to those of us willing to watch workers labour for our love of all things leisurely. Like for instance, emailing from the iphone, at sunset, from a chez lounge, negroni at our side and Gaucho on the boombox.
To the opponents of the proposed wall, I say this: chill out. Go hit the yellow ball, take a bike ride, take a long jump off a long pier and get your crib game tight. This kind of relaxation is for the bosses. You can whine and scream and bark at those that are trying to work out a solution to the fact that the lake hates us, but read the signs:
No dogs on the beach.
So take you barking south down highway 59, I hear you can get a tan at Fun Mountain (not as fun as it sounds).
Accusations of bourgeois malfeasance are unfounded and unproductive. This mass of water is trying to take our fun away, and I say we try turn a turd of nature into a man made valhalla of summertime social congress and personal intercourse.
To the dudes trying to get the plan right. You've nailed it. Stop and salute yourselves. No need to tinker or consult the "science" community. As I understand, the worst case scenario is we lose a few beaches. You see dark cloud, I see a Patron silver lining. A lack of beach gets girls on boats and provides us with power playing and networking opportunities unforseen since the prohibition of the Adult Dances. But that's an issue for another day.
Build walls and return my calls. An evil lake, crooked hydro cartel and crazed citizenry cannot and will not stop the fun. The worst case: we win. The best case: a case of Standards. Keep your standards high Elk Aida. Cheers to open minds and new membership. It's us Vs the lake and we are winning.
