The extraordinary thing about bureaucracy is the different versions you can have of any one supposedly set-in-concrete law. Thus when we were trying to change the registration of Curtis, our indomitable Chevrolet Van, over from the name of the generous Canadian who originally insured him for us, I spoke to a variety of desk-denizens, most of whom told me similar yet different versions of what I’d need to do the job.
So its back to Calgary, where the other night our backyard party was interrupted by the fire brigade, in full lights and sirens blazing-mode, arriving to douse our small campfire owing to its imminent threat to the neighbourhood. We were told that it was against a bylaw.
Less than thrilled, we broke a dozen more bylaws by partying till dawn, to ensure we had horrific hangovers for our fruitless drive to BC. Viva le Revolution.