Glenn Kubish

Happy end of the week, y'all! Here are three things that made for some happiness and gratitude this week in Three Things from Edmonton, episode 78:                             1. Breaking news   And oops and smash! A new ecosmart 60 watt, soft-white LED replacement bulb slipped out of my hand and hit the kitchen floor. I grabbed the broom and the dustbin and swept up the debris field of miniature mirrors.  What I saw in my mind was the pavement on the 142 Street service road just past Valleyview Drive. For at least two weeks, shards from a broken bottle sat there on the road like chunks of ice that won’t melt. I had pedalled through them and around them and I had pointed them out to other bike riders, but did I stop to clean them up? The whisk I carry wouldn’t have been up to the task. The whisky glass stayed there.   And the glass might still be there if three unexpected things didn’t happen. Firs...

I want to tell you about Andy, but, first, I want first to try to explain why I didn't stop to clean up the shards of broken beer bottle glass on the shared-use path this morning. I can't. I don't know why I didn't stop. I did see the shards. But I swerved, content not to hear from my tires the poof of rubber's deflating surrender to glass. I might have weakly dangled a left-arm warning to the bicycle rider behind me. That was it. That was the extent of my flaccid public spirit muscle flex. Having neatly navigated through the peril, I quickly forgot about the glass or how it might undo others. It was on to Coffee Outside in Faraone Park, a Friday morning meetup ritual with fellow bicycle riders. Like the rest of the Coffee Outside gang, Andy was there with his bike. Unlike the rest of us he was there with his aluminum trash grabber arm. On the tip of the device is a retractable blue claw that, when triggered at the handle, squeezes closed, securing wh...

It broke my own rule about never engaging with other drivers. It almost snapped my short tolerance for those who judge and then find refuge in social media. I don't know why I did it. We were sitting at a red light on 87 Ave and 149 St last night. It was a beautiful, peaceful evening. The driver in the car next to us rolled down the window and threw a cigarette butt onto the ground. I admit it. I don't like littering. Long before reducing the size of your footprint became popular, I was taught to not throw garbage of any size, shape on the ground. In university, we learned about the challenge of the commons and the lack of motivation people feel for public property. I actually think about the birds and other creatures that might eat an errant cigarette butt. And the irony is priceless. Smokers willing to pollute their lungs are unwilling to keep evidence of their habit in view and nose. And, so, out the window the butt goes. And, so, I'll often joke about picking u...