A few months ago I found this trailer for Getting Screefed, which pretty much illustrates why it's tough to make great art out of tree-planting culture in all its stoned, freaky, athletico-militaristic wonder. Has anyone ever seen this movie? I'd be curious to know.

Maybe this is strictly a phenomenon amongst crews who work in the old-growth, coastal sections of British Columbia but I haven't seen grungy flannel since the mid-nineties. Now we're fleece and Goretex and Pelican briefcases. We look like a bunch of sodden, exceptionally dirty Whistlerites. Also, I notice the arrival of digital cameras and MP3 players on the block. Well, at least the weed-smoking goes on unabated.

Below, next to my shovel and rubber backpack, are my half-and-halfs, the most expensive footwear I own. I buy them begrudgingly from a small company in Victoria, B.C., that seems to have the market cornered on cripplingly uncomfortable work boots. John Vaillant describes caulks in his wonderful book, The Golden Spruce, as "industrial golf shoes." Or something apt like that--unfortunately I can't verify his phrase, as my copy of the book has been on constant loan since I finished it.