Canada, it seems, is the land of wacky restaurant names. C'est What?, Kit Kat Italian Bar and Grill, Fred's Not Here, Burrito Boyz, The Jerk Spot, Joe Mamas, The Red Tomato, Hey Lucy, Forget About It, and, of course, The Loose Moose. Much more creative at least, than San Antonio's perennial favorite, Taqueria Jalisco Arandas #4 which about every third restaurant is named. And they were tasty too!
There was of course more to Toronto than good food; though, skinny people! I had forgotten what it was like to be in a city of attractive individuals. We undoubtebly brought down the standard in our highwater, navel hugging dress blues, but being a polite people the Canadians didn't seem to mind.
The conference from a conference perspective was a success, I guess. There was much conferencing at least. And I was right, it basically was both a series of boring lectures by distinguished guests and internal medicine dance party. If by internal medicine dance party you mean more boring lectures by distinguished guests. Thankfully they were interesting boring lectures, and by and large fairly educational. There was also a moose sculpture painted in a rather dapper tuxedo at the special events center that I am still sorry I did not get my picture taken with.
When we weren't conferencing we were poster presenting, and that was unfortunately not quite as successful. Although I displayed my poster with the best of 'em, it won me no prizes. Which, we all know, is the sole purpose of presenting research posters. I am hopeful the judges are regretful of their decision and lying awake at night troubled by the knowledge my genius went unacknowledged. If so they may send any and all reconciliatory awards and medals to me directly at an address to be given upon request.
And when we weren't poster presenting we were... drinking recklessly? An overstatement perhaps, but my co-residents it seems like to party and no party is complete, Canadian or otherwise, without significant sums of alcohol. Everyone was safe and classy, no doubt, but safe and classy and somewhat inebriated. Thankfully Toronto is a travel friendly town and whether through taxi, or metro, or bus, or foot, or bike, or rollerblade everyone made it home safely. Likely because no one took to rollerblading.
Then there was a trip to Toronto Island where we road slightly effeminate bicycles. Visits to an amazing museum or two. An aborted trip to Niagara Falls thanks to a complete absence of rental cars. Some Tim Horton donuts (which it turns out are just "alright" if my Canadian brethren may forgive me.) And a whole lot of aimless city wandering.
I cannot say I completely experienced Toronto or even got a true, adequate taste of Canada, but I can say it was a pretty good time. Will definitely have to go back some day. No doubt aboot it.
Oh, Canada...
Canadian photos pending future computer cooperation. They're just that awesome. And my computer is just that not cooperative.
Showing posts with label ACP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ACP. Show all posts
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Oh Canada
Canada!
We have been estranged too long.
I am coming for you!
After twenty-seven long years of living in ignorance of my northern neighbor, the sum of my knowledge stemming from a few Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons, a Five Iron Frenzy song, and some pictures of what was likely Antarctica, it is time for change. Real change. Powerful change. Barack Obama-style change -- though with less ambiguity and non-productivity. It's settled! I am going to Canada, and in the national spirit I will hug a Canadian. Which I can only assume is an eskimo.
In anticipation of this warming in relations, I have heavily studied the recent 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Although it took me two weeks of additional TiVo watching to get through it all, or most all of it save yet another women's biathalon with fatigued Norwegians drooling all over their rifles, I have learned that some Canadians are good at sports and NBC news personalities seem to enjoy mounting and riding moose. Or mooses. Or meese. I think this is sufficient information to bridge the cultural divide.
I have the USAF to thanks for my pending travels. After further consideration, and a second round of acceptance from the ACP, they have agreed to pay my way to Toronto for the the National ACP Medical Conference where I will present my research and, I guess, do some serious conferencing. Having never been to one of these events before I am not sure what to expect. Boring lectures? Boring lectures by distinguished guests? Internal medicine physician dance party?
This brings me to my last question, though, what to do in Toronto? I hear they have a tower. And.... the Blue Jays? Perhaps I will get myself some milk in a bag. Or stir up the Quebecois.
We have been estranged too long.
I am coming for you!
After twenty-seven long years of living in ignorance of my northern neighbor, the sum of my knowledge stemming from a few Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons, a Five Iron Frenzy song, and some pictures of what was likely Antarctica, it is time for change. Real change. Powerful change. Barack Obama-style change -- though with less ambiguity and non-productivity. It's settled! I am going to Canada, and in the national spirit I will hug a Canadian. Which I can only assume is an eskimo.
In anticipation of this warming in relations, I have heavily studied the recent 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Although it took me two weeks of additional TiVo watching to get through it all, or most all of it save yet another women's biathalon with fatigued Norwegians drooling all over their rifles, I have learned that some Canadians are good at sports and NBC news personalities seem to enjoy mounting and riding moose. Or mooses. Or meese. I think this is sufficient information to bridge the cultural divide.
I have the USAF to thanks for my pending travels. After further consideration, and a second round of acceptance from the ACP, they have agreed to pay my way to Toronto for the the National ACP Medical Conference where I will present my research and, I guess, do some serious conferencing. Having never been to one of these events before I am not sure what to expect. Boring lectures? Boring lectures by distinguished guests? Internal medicine physician dance party?
This brings me to my last question, though, what to do in Toronto? I hear they have a tower. And.... the Blue Jays? Perhaps I will get myself some milk in a bag. Or stir up the Quebecois.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts
The Air Force giveth and the Air Force taketh away. All for national security reasons no doubt.
Recently I was given the “opportunity” to “be recognized” for all my “hard work” researching by working harder in order to summarize succinctly all said research on a not very conveniently sized laminated poster. This poster would then be displayed briefly in a room somewhere for people to pass by with indifference. For those not so easily persuaded, the best poster presented would earn the presenter a trip to Toronto to the national American College of Physicians (ACP) conference to take place in the spring. Being the eager, young resident that I was I presented my research like a sucker.
And I won. I won the research poster competition, and so qualified for the national ACP conference and, more importantly, a few days off work in order to attend. Or so I thought. It turns out I won nothing of the sort. Unbeknownst to the majority of us it seems there is a clause that if there are heaven forbid too many winners from our program only the power point research presenters actually really “wins.” Truly we were all winners, yes, but the winner that got the prize was not me. In all fairness I only competed against other Air Force medicine programs and so had a roughly thirty-three percent chance of winning just by showing up and affixing my name and a doodle to a 3x5 card – which in restrospect is what I should have done – but I was not too happy. As consolation prize I was given a plaque, a hardy congratulations, and an offer to return to work promptly to resume my prior duties. Those duties being on call. I would have liked going to Toronto and I would have liked not thinking maybe something nice could happen for my efforts, but Canada’s full of lumberjacks and grizzly bears I hear and nothing builds character like profound disappointment so perhaps it's all for the best.
Meanwhile the research train continues. Where else will it take me? I can only wait and dread.
Recently I was given the “opportunity” to “be recognized” for all my “hard work” researching by working harder in order to summarize succinctly all said research on a not very conveniently sized laminated poster. This poster would then be displayed briefly in a room somewhere for people to pass by with indifference. For those not so easily persuaded, the best poster presented would earn the presenter a trip to Toronto to the national American College of Physicians (ACP) conference to take place in the spring. Being the eager, young resident that I was I presented my research like a sucker.
And I won. I won the research poster competition, and so qualified for the national ACP conference and, more importantly, a few days off work in order to attend. Or so I thought. It turns out I won nothing of the sort. Unbeknownst to the majority of us it seems there is a clause that if there are heaven forbid too many winners from our program only the power point research presenters actually really “wins.” Truly we were all winners, yes, but the winner that got the prize was not me. In all fairness I only competed against other Air Force medicine programs and so had a roughly thirty-three percent chance of winning just by showing up and affixing my name and a doodle to a 3x5 card – which in restrospect is what I should have done – but I was not too happy. As consolation prize I was given a plaque, a hardy congratulations, and an offer to return to work promptly to resume my prior duties. Those duties being on call. I would have liked going to Toronto and I would have liked not thinking maybe something nice could happen for my efforts, but Canada’s full of lumberjacks and grizzly bears I hear and nothing builds character like profound disappointment so perhaps it's all for the best.
Meanwhile the research train continues. Where else will it take me? I can only wait and dread.
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