Inspired by Jean Russell, Quentin Tarantino, and Jared Brown ~ Late Night Thoughts on “Thrivability”

by hans peter meyer

A couple of recent convos have got me thinking about how important it is to “think” beyond this moment.

I’m a firm believer in “living in the moment,” as it’s all we’ve got. But I also think that sometimes we don’t imagine enough for ourselves. It’s as if what we’ve got in this moment is all there is, all there can be. And I don’t believe that.

My experience is that, if I imagine myself and my life becoming BIGGER, richer, more vibrant and creative – then I’m more likely to find myself there. This moment is wonderful in and of itself, but I’m a changing, growing being. I’m most juiced when I’m over-reaching myself. When I’m juiced I’m having fun. And that, to me, is what it’s all about: play, having fun, sharing the fun, playing with others.

Which is where this idea of “thrivability” gets into my life. For a long time I sat with “sustainability.” It seemed a good way to imagine life: sustaining itself, looking after itself, husbanding itself. I liked that. But it was also not enough. There was too much around that managed to sustain itself without being fun. Sustaining seemed like the chore work. I wanted to have fun.

So, I’m very grateful for people like Jean Russell for introducing the idea of “thrivability” to me. Jean talks about it in the context of “our collective wisdom and action bring forth a flourishing world and thriving life.” Sounds good to me. How we do that is open to many, many experiments. But to have that as the reason for doing… well, that’s exciting for me.

As a dad, it’s a great reference point. I just went out with Jared, my eldest son, to see Q Tarantino‘s latest, Inglorious Basterds. Regardless of how you see QT’s films, they are always about creativity, about play at a certain level. Which provided a great seque into the convo Jared and I had about what he’s doing with his life, what I’m doing with mine.

I try to remember that I was once almost-21 once. That lots of things weren’t clear, that the comfort zone was a very attractive place to be. But watching a QT movie together was also the opp to talk about being creative and risky as a way to be. As a way to, basically, feed the fire of “thrivability.”

Earlier in the week I’d mentioned how proud I was of the kinds of risks he’d taken the year before, stepping out of the comfort zone and doing some things that were hard, things that led to acivities and experiences he really enjoyed and now prides himself on having created. I suggested that, now, after his travels, he was in a place of challenging himself again, taking some new risks. I pointed out how successful he’d been already. “Yeah,” he said, “But I thought I’d already taken the risks.” Too bad kiddo. The juicy, thriving life is about living on the edge of one’s creative energy, creative capacity.

Which is what I think of when “thrivability” comes up: living on an edge, pushing that edge, getting BIGGER than I imagine myself to be. Good stuff.

Some people spend their lives seeking and reinforcing the “comfort zone.” That’s not for me. Things change too much. Life changes too much. I don’t trust “security” – except as it relates to my capacity to respond positively, creatively to the changing world around me.

Thrivability: my capacity to do just that – thrive, no matter what the circumstances, to be willing to learn how to grow, no matter what life throws at me. So much juicier than merely “sustaining” my life, don’t you think? (see my friend Meaghan Cursons talking on this here and a recent interview with Jean Russell here)

Thrivability, Sustainability, Comox Valley = #CV2050 = Lottsa fun!

by hans peter meyer

OK. Turn back the dial about… 15 years? Who’s at the table? @meaghancursons, DCS (doesn’t have a twitter handle yet, poor guy), @hanspetermeyer. Not the same table as today, but with similar kinds of energy.

Dial into 2009. DCS isn’t doing youth work anymore. MC isn’t just fresh from running the youngest most impressive Green campaign any of us have ever seen and about to become hpm’s fave-ever employee/collaborator. hpm isn’t being Mr. Small Town & Rural Communities BC. But we’re all still talking about the same things: how much we love the Comox Valley, how excited we are to be engaged in making stuff happen here. Very good.

Except, now DCS is doing cool work with local governments, NGOs, and high-profile consultants on “sustainability” and “conservation” – BIG topic, important stuff. MC is Queen of the funnest festival around, and has just been handed a great job doing what she does so absolutely well: creating partnerships and connecting the dots. Hank, well, he’s not sure what he’s doing, but he’s having a good time doing it (actually, I do know what I’m doing: mostly it’s dancing, playing with food and beverages, and exercising various other social media skills – online and behind the bar at Hank’s Bar & Grill on Avenida Willemar).

This afternoon and evening saw the MC-DCS-hpm trio encamped in the kitchen and then the garden, eventually with glasses of very nice 2004 Z3 from Hainle Vineyards (thanks to a great little wine-pairing evening at Martine’s Bistro way back in ’05). What were we doing? Talking about social media, sustainability, thrivability, the Comox Valley, Imagine Nanaimo, Valley Vision, the past, the future, how to animate convos, how to create energy that lasts beyond policy planning strategic exercises, etc etc. Lottsa fun.

You’ll probably see a little of this floating around. Search for things tagged #CV2050 on twitter and Facebook and YouTube – here, and here – and elsewhere. You might even see references to old things like the “Land Use Café” revived as something else – “Thrivability Café?” Hmmm… Also, check out what going to be happening on google maps. In the not too distant future you’ll see things tagged there with #CV2050 as well.

We three have imagined amazing things in the past. It was muy cool to be imagining together again. Watch this – and other – spaces. Lottsa fun! ;-)

Gin Tasting 101 (part 1) at Tria Culinary

by hans peter meyer

I’d been tweeting back and forth with @triaculinary about gin etc a few weeks ago. We decided we needed to move from twitter-land to real-time/real-space with this convo and set “end of day,” August 26th as a reasonable time to unlax, try out some gins, and talk of many things.

Fortuitously, end-of-day August 26 was also the treffpunkt for @IslandFEAST, her crew, and the duo from @bluemoonwinery. For me it was also fortuitous that @triaculinary had just made some succotash and sablefish (recently adopted as my fave fish for sure).

We’d lined up 3 gins for this first foray into things juniper – Bombay Saphire (a better-than decent bar gin), Phrog from nearby Hornby Island, and the eponymous Victoria. I lined up the glasses. Then, in turn, I shook up a bit of each with ice and poured.

My first comment here is that, despite what I apparently learned at Bartending 101 (thanks to Suzanne at fineartbartending.ca – more on that adventure Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, with Part 4 forthcoming…), I shook – and therefore risked “bruising” – this 100% booze. I used to think this talk of “bruising” was haute bar foolishness. However, as @bluemoonwinery pointed out (and innocent of any knowledge of booze and its delicate bruisability on her part), our little samples of gin were “cloudy.” Bruised, in fact. Suzanne would be shaking her pretty head at me, no doubt.

Notwithstanding the bruising, which all the gins were subject to, here are the comments on the 3 gins assembled.

Bombay Saphire: Pretty transparent blue bottle, with a decidedly citrus (“lemony”) perfume; juniper dominant, but other botanicals present. One taster determined it to be a “feminine” taste.

Phrog: Again, a lovely bottle momentarily distracted the tasters, after which they pronounced the following: complex aroma – licorice (“fennel?”), earthy, “rainforest” (indeed, I’ve had one friend dis Phrog in these terms: “do moss and murk count as botanicals? – no trace of juniper; I wouldn’t even call it a gin!”). One taster said it “grew” on her, somehow reminding her of the effect of a mild scotch. Her elaboration that it had a similar “rubbing alcohol effect” failed to clarify anything for me. Such is the case with taste: we live largely in a world of our own sensual experience, and struggle to find words for sensations that are outside of linguistic/logical understanding. Another taster said the flavours were too subtle and complex to be wasted in something like the ubiquitous daily bit o’ booze, what a friend once called the “restorative G&T.” The gender-oriented drinker named Phrog as a decidedly “masculine” gin. The fave of @islandFEAST’s pal.

Victoria: Back from the weedy Gulf Islands and into one of the last outposts of the Empire, this gin conforms to the traditional gin flavour profile. Tasters identified citrus amongst the juniper, along with other unnamed “floral” accents. Several of our company had spent time in Canada’s north, and nodded their heads as one taster said the Victoria raised memories of lying in the tundra, with “the scent of willow and juniper in your face.” The gender? Another girl. And, not a gin to be wasted in a G&T, no matter how “restorative.” My fave. (And, as per recent tweet, @islandFEAST’s fave too.)

Image by hanspetermeyer.ca via Flickr

To show off one of my current fave cocktails (and, perhaps, to redeem myself for the bruising of the booze), I put together a Gin Savoy (see comments on vodka below; using gin adds a bit of botanical complexity to the already interesting flavour profile of this libation – brought to my attention by bartender Torrie Howlett at @avenuebistro, and later modified with the assistance of bartender Freddy at that same fine dining & drinking venue in Comox).

This was our first kick at a gin-tasting. For Part 2 we’re going to drag in some others of our faves. I could (and will) go on & on about Hendricks. @triaculinary is particulary fond of Crown-something-or-other. I’ve had pleasant experiences with Plymouth. And, for comparison purposes, it’s good to have a big bottle of Gordon’s around (excellent choice for G&Ts, restorative and otherwise). Gordon’s is, in fact, an important element in one of my favourite variations on the classic martini, the Vesper.

In any case, gin is – unlike vodka, about which far too much is written (I love vodkas, but really, what’s the secret? The more it’s distilled, the smoother and easier to swallow this flavourless, colourless booze is. Why pay $$$ when you can find good triple-distilled for $?) – worthy of much consideration. We’ll be back at this in the not too distant future.

Thanks to @triaculinary for the impromptu dinner, to @bluemoonwinery for the post-gin wines, and to @islandFEAST and company for good company and the contribution of many useful comments.

Note:@triaculinary is the twitter handle for Kathy Jerritt at Tria Culinary in the Comox Valley. @bluemoonwinery is the twitter handle for George and Marla of Blue Moon Winery and Natures Way Farms (also in the Comox Valley). @islandFEAST is the twitter handle for Karma Brophy (she’s doing cool food stuff out of Nanaimo).

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Remembering July 26 – the Table Champêtre at Tannadice Farms

by hanspetermeyer

It’s mid-August. I’m sitting in my garden, looking through some fotos of the hottest part of the summer, July 26th to be precise. The afternoon and evening of the first on-the-farm Table Champêtre hosted by Tannadice Farms and Chef Ronald St. Pierre and his crew at Locals Restaurant in Courtenay. Here’s a pic of what the site looked like in the heat of the afternoon when we arrived.

I’m not going to talk about what a Table Champêtre is here. I interviewed Chef Ronald several times prior to the event, and he does a great job of describing why he wants to do these events, why they’re important to the local economy, why they’re important from a flavour perspective. These interviews are posted as text on the Locals blog, as an audio interview on my tumblr blog, and as a video on my YouTube channel.

What I am going to talk about is the feelings this event generated. There is an economy around food, but for most of us – and especially with the very low cost of food that we’ve been enjoying for at least a generation or more here in North America – what matters is taste, and all the other sensual pleasures that can be rolled into the taste experience.

I’m a Comox Valley boy. Black Creek actually. A 1930s German-speaking Mennonite community that was, and still is, very agricultural in its sensibility. Our family wasn’t on the farm, but extended family still held hundreds of acres of former Douglas fir forest-cum-farmland. I grew up feeding chickens, ducks, and rabbits on our Miracle Beach Road lot, and threw thousands of hay bales in my pre-teen, teen, and young adult life. Later, marrying into a farm family, I got to do it all over again with my sons. For me this is very cool stuff. I like being part of the food (provisioning) chain.

Stepping out of the car into a hot, scorching hot, recently hayed field was the beginning of a bit of romance for me: the smells, the heat, the vistas – and so much better to be looking forward to a feast, rather than thousands of bales to be thrown on the wagon!

A short walk away, on the crown of a hill overlooking Tannadice Farms (where they raise the best pork I’ve ever tasted, and some pretty fair beef and fowl as well), and out onto the Beaufort Range and Mount Washington, was a large tent. Relief from the sun. Respite for close to 100 gathered there to revel in what the Locals team (and numerous other flavour providers) had to offer.

It was hot. The humidex reading was 36. ¡Muy calor! Diving into a cocktail of Bluemoon Winery Soleil (fruit wine, from apples) with soda, and some delicious ice-cold mouthful oysters from Cortez Island… in the shade of a tent… very refreshing, very “restorative,” as a friend of mine used to say.

Next, many appetizers. I liked the stuffed squash flowers, but most of all, I liked the ribs…mmmmm. Here’s me liking my chops!

After that… more great food from Tannadice Farm and a host of local growers, Vancouver Island wines from the Cowichan Valley, sweets that put the icing on the cake. In the midst of it all, my foodie friend (who is also a dance floor friend) and I shuffled through a rhumba to “Begin the Beguine” played by a jazz trio giving the scene a surreal acoustical beauty.

In the end, my friend was near to tears, she was so moved by the combination of food, setting, music, and people. The moon had risen, the cattle had moved out of whatever shadowy spot they’d been hiding in and, in the cool of the evening were doing what beef does when it’s still on the hoof: eat, chew, reflect on the quality of grass, low a little, go back to chewing.

We walked off the field, out of the purpling sky, and back into the car. I was thinking of how much I’m looking forward to what Chef Ronald and his co-conspirators are going to do next year…