Sowing the seeds of freedom

Thursday, 11 November 2010 - Today is Remembrance Day or Veteran's Day depending on which side of the border you are on. And though we choose not to remember the great Canadian American War (that no doubt took place on a sheet of ice, with sticks and cold hard rubber), but to remember those who fought, gave their freedom and lives, gave limbs and sanity, gave blood and tears, for a world that could live as one, we sometimes forget that freedom is not a right... it is a gift. Like all gifts, there was a giver of that gift. An old Chinese proverb says:

When eating bamboo sprouts, remember the man who planted them. 

I spent the day yesterday with my sister, a woman who despite her circumstances, gives thanks for the gift of her beautiful baby girls, her friends and her family. Anyone in her position - dealing with the cruel challenges that life has bestowed upon her, would curse the ground, the gods, the cards dealt - and you could forgive them their trespasses. Life is cruel, and yet, we live a life of freedom because another's cruelty was fought with further cruelty and loss. Despite the pain and the daily fight, my sister is able to live  the life of a mother, a wife, a sister, a friend.  She was free to make those choices and to experience all that freedom can gift her - regardless of the wrapping.

This may seem a far stretch from what today is about, but it is the larger picture for which I am thankful. The chance to make choices about your life, to decide your studies, to choose your path, to plant your garden - these are freedoms. Freedom is a gift, lest us not forget who planted the seeds of freedom.  The veterans, the war heroes, the battle scarred, the wounded, the dead, the families they left behind.

Today is also a good friend's birthday. I have deep admiration and respect for someone who, as a matter of course, spends their day remembering not what was on the Amazon wish list, but more often than not in the rain, watching the Remembrance Day parades, and the broadcasts from the Capital, mourning the souls gone but not forgotten. It is a birthday that not only celebrates another year, but another year of freedom.

To quote another ancient John Lennon proverb:

Imagine there's no countries 
It isn't hard to do 
Nothing to kill or die for 
And no religion too 
Imagine all the people 
Living life in peace 

Happy birthday. Indeed another year of freedom and life in peace is a gift. Let us not forget who sowed the seeds - in blood soaked soil.

Get outta your car... and on to your ass

Wednesday, 22 September 2010 - We have evolved, from primate to homo sapien sapien over millions of years (more years than our brains have yet evolved to truly comprehend). During that time, we have gone from hairy to smooth (well, most of anyway... there are a few Italian and some South East Asian men that have not caught up). We have gone from quadripedal movement, to dragging our knuckles, to bipedalism (again, sorry, but there are a few men who have not yet caught up). We have moved on from tree nests to tree houses in the back yard. When you attempt to rationalise and understand the changes we have gone through even before recorded history, it's easy to see why there are so many who may not be capable of comprehending the possibility and turn to religious explanation. It is easier for the human brain - not yet fully evolved - to believe in a magical start. The time scales currently hypothesized are so immense that we do not have a human experience that can compare or give us a comparison point.

So we came up off our knuckles, for the most part, and began to walk upright. This freed our hands to carry spears and 9mm PX4 Beretta Storms. After that, civilization was just around the corner. But this also made walking our number one mode of transport... well until the invention of wheels and the Ford Motor Company. Now, we have carS in the driveway, and we walk about 3 blocks maximum before we reach for the keys. On any day but today we should feel a modicum of guilt for what is surely the human spirit. Today is International Car Free Day the perfect day to leave the car at home and take a walk, a bus, a cab, or a slow and deliberate stroll to your favourite watering hole.  Besides, with the new drinking and driving laws, this should be a no brainer.  Leave the car at home people.

In fact, not just because you might have a beverage of the adult variety, but because our asses are getting wider and wider. We stood upright to make it easier to get around. Yes, it made it easier to carry weaponry and wage war on the buffalo, but it also means we could commute without needing bandages for our knuckles. Yet still, the soccer moms and the wide loads use a car to travel 500 yards to gather the kids and Almond Joy.

For just one day, if we all took alternative transportation I bet we would find that there really is another way to get there. Take a bus to the dead body exhibit. Ride a bike to the pub. Walk - for dog's sake walk - to the corner store. It is good for the air, good for the environment, good for your ass, and good for the day - if only for a day.

There are parts of the world that still rely on other modes of transport - donkey, cart, horse and buggy, and the decorated and revered Elephant. Go ahead and board your pachyderm, for today is also Elephant Appreciation Day.  I wonder if Joseph Merrick ever rode on one?

Hike hike hi... OUCH

Tuesday, 21 September 2010 - Sport provides so much that each and every one of us should play something. Whether its badminton (hey... I work in Litchmon, ah, er, Richmond), polo, mountaineering, hockey (hey... I live in Canada), alligator wresting, UFC, or golf, sports teach us about ourselves, and about the sharp end of the alligator. Sports also teach us how to play nicely with others, how to hit without getting benched, how to score, how to strike out, how to yell at the ump, how to take a hit, how to fake an injury, how to use your eraser, how to count (1, 2, 2, 3, 4 - par), and how to blame the equipment. These are life lessons that just can't be learned without a little sport in our lives.

Imagine a Sunday afternoon without the gridiron or a winter evening without a battle of the blades? What would you do with the men in your lives so you can get a bit of time to yourself? And how about one of those gorgeous sunny spring afternoons that have your golf clubs creeping toward the door all on their own? There are times when sport isn't a luxury, it is a necessity, a way to blow off a little steam, soak in a vat of beer, and let the rest of the challenges of life be buoyed by the play in front of you. Getting out on the field yourself, wether a pitch, a diamond, a course, or a rink can be good for the soul. Time with friends, a little exertion and some trash talk reinvigorates you, and gives that tongue of yours that you bite during the rest of your day gets a little sharper. Have fun with your words. Use them in combinations and permutations that you don't often get a chance to use in the other parts of your life - well for most of us anyway. "Mmmmm, quarterbacks DO taste like chicken."

For those Sunday warriors who are getting a little older, wider, or wiser, there are modified versions of all these sports. Some might say they are the woman'ized versions... Baseball getting a little rought and the welts don't heal as fast - try Softball. There are beer leagues everywhere.  You now look like a defensive lineman but you just can't get up off your knees after the snap... Touchball and Flag Football. No hitting, and no padding needed.  That ought to lighten you up enough to get up. Just can't get that club around the middle the way you used to? Have your arms got shorter or is the equipment failing you? No problem. There is alway Miniature Golf, but since there are only 17 holes you can really make it on, you might want to play for $1.06 a hole. Hell, today, go all out and play for $2.12 a hole. It is Miniature Golf Day. The best part of mini golf is that if you do sink a hole in one on the 18th hole, you don't have to buy a round for the whole clubhouse, but you do get a free round for next Sunday. If soccer is your sport, sorry old timers, but there isn't an easier version of this game. You'll just have to play one weekend, and recover from your injuries for the next three. Lucky for you, there's a full schedule of sports in HD just waiting for you and your ice packs.

Sesquipedalophobia is the fear of big words

Sunday, 19 September 2010 - Fear is a great paralyzer. Everyone has fears, some of which are valid, others are a little irrational. But the beautiful thing about fears is that they can often be overcome. Of the top ten most common fears, I have seven, but I also have fears 14, 15, 16, 17, and 31. Take for example the fear of public speaking. This is number two on the list, topped only by the fear of flying. More people are afraid of speaking in public than those who are not. How could you not be a wee bit afraid of getting up in front of people you don't know where you will be judged on your look, your mannerisms, your word, you knowledge, your reactions, your tone of voice, your hand gestures, your hair, your ensemble... Crap.  I didn't used to be afraid of public speaking until now.

But fear is one of those things that real or imagined, they can be overcome. Fear of flying? Don't fly. Book a ticket with an airline and let someone else fly. Besides, without wings its too difficult anyway. Fear of heights is number 3 on the list. Putmebackonthegrounddammitophobia can be overcome, but honestly, why would you want to? You can jump out of a perfectly good aircraft with nothing more than a sheet and a few ropes, climb a few mountains, and hang out at the top of the Space Needle, but in the end, you will be back on the ground, shaking with fear, and damned thankful to be back on terra firma.

Does fear of the dark paralyze you? Keepalightonophobia is good for the power company. Fear of intimacy - dontyoutouchmephysicallyoremotionallyophobia - is a tough one. If all your relationships just barely scratch the surface, how will you ever get close enough to scratch a bare back? Fear of death or dying - ohcrapireallyshouldhavereadthewaiverophobia - is irrational. Your next breath is merely assumed. That proverbial bus or MI isn't always predictable. Fear of failure and fear of rejection isn't really a fear as it is the human condition. Though failure usually brings about life lessons, rejection or thisoneistoosmallthrowitbackophobia can be a little more painful. After all, don't we all just want to be a part of something? Fear of spiders - arachnophobia - has been made much worse thanks to Hollywood. Before this movie, I thought spiders were rather fascinating amazing creatures. We could learn much from spiders. Spin an intricate and functional net, catch your prey and have your way with them. It is a recipe for success... if not a little self indulgence. Number ten on that list is fear of commitment. Now here is one to which I not only relate, but have lived by for all my years. Perhaps this is a result of what I have been exposed to over my lifetime, perhaps it is as a result of my fears of intimacy, failure and rejection. Icandothisallonmyownidontneedanyonethatmightleaveintheendanywayaphobia can really put you in a holding pattern. If you have a fear of flying as well, you could really be in for a bumpy ride.

The 18th most common fear is the fear of water. The withoutwateritshardtobathesoyousmellbadophobia can also cause people to be afraid of you - or at least be afraid to be within olfactory range of you can really cramp your social life. If you live on the coast, you might want to consider moving. We are surrounded by majestic mountains and seascapes. There are rivers, and lakes and oceans everywhere we turn. And honestly, for 365 days a year, most of us stay pretty landlocked. Or in the words of a Pirate, we are land lubbers. Fortunately, today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. You don't have to get over your fear of water to celebrate, but you should perhaps keep it to yourself.

Avast Matee, how's your grog? Too early for grog? I bet the clock is telling the right time somewhere on the seas. After all, it's Sunday and the Catholics have already had wine. If the Catholics can do it so early in the day, I'm sure us heathens, doubting Thomas' and those suffering from a fear of god - whoisthisgodthatcansmitemedownandsendmetohellohshitophobia-  can have a wee tipple by now. It is grog o'clock somewhere. 

R E S P E C T... find out what it means to you

Saturday, 18 September 2010 - A good friend told me once that everyone has a wall built up around them. There are few people you will respect enough in your lifetime that you will allow to knock a few bricks down and find their way in to your inner self. If there is someone there who you can let in, someone you can share your pains with, and your joys with, then that is a special someone indeed.

I fancy myself pretty lucky. There are a few people that mean enough to me, that I respect enough, to allow them in to that inner place... that inner sanctum of my protective barrier. My bubble is pretty thick, but there are a few who get inside. Maybe it is self preservation, maybe it is a way of keeping my cards close, but what it really seems to be is common.  Everyone has a wall.  Some walls are 4 feet high, some are 12 feet high. Some require nothing more than a short run at it to get over, others need a grappling hook and special shoes. It is a revelation to me to find out that we all have one of these fine borders around us, and brings on a deep sigh of relief. Who knew?

Ok, maybe instinctually we all know this. It is the human condition to protect ourselves. Trust and respect is a hard thing to gain, and when we gain that of those around us, we are acutely aware of the fine line that threads it together. As the saying goes, it takes years to build trust and respect, it takes merely suspicion not fact to destroy the same. Today is Respect Day, a day to respect those and that which surrounds us. Is there something or someone you respect, or once respected, but let suspicion get in the way? This is your day to put that aside and go back to that happy place.

What do you respect? Who do you respect? What is it you respect? I respect honesty above all else. I also can respect the need for silence, and the need to share. I respect bleeding emotion when it's too much to hold inside. I respect all of this in others. In myself, I fear these are the failings that will lead to a lack of respect. Is this common? Is respect for the self built on a different foundation than the respect we have for others? Are the foundations we build for ourselves so slippery that a heavy rain, or a good cry, will send our house of cards tumbling in to the river? Can we gain strength in the drought, or does the drought make the foundation that much more fragile? In the dry season, we can put aside our emotions and get on with life when it is at these moments that we should be working on our foundations.

Every foundation has cracks, that is what keeps us honest and humble. Some cracks are bigger than others. A little sealant, a little glue, and we're good to go. Sealant can be as simple as getting out an enjoying the things in life that make us happy. A day in the field throwing around a ball, a day in bed throwing around a ball, a day in the mall shopping and having a ball - what you enjoy grounds you. Respect yourself enough to get out and be yourself. Respect Day might be about respecting others, but if you forget about you, it gets real hard to celebrate this one. Admit it... you are one person you can always count on. Respect that Aretha.

As American as going postal

Friday, 17 September 2010 - Some days are just harder than others. Some days, you hope that the world would just stop spinning long enough for you to get your bearings and give you a moment to find a crutch. Then there are days that just seem to come and go, and you don't remember there being a difficult moment. What makes a good day good, and a bad day challenging? And how do you get through the rough spots without patches?

Like your favourite pair of Levi's as long as they can still be buttoned up, and your butt cheeks aren't falling out of them, life can be pretty comfortable, until you get your ass caught on a nail and a tear opens up. Suddenly you are faced with a few choices. Do you throw out the old jeans in favour of a new pair that may or may not fit as well? Do you try and mend the old pair, and hope the patches won't show too much? Do you just go ahead and walk around with a gaping hole and hope few people notice how bare you really are? Is vulnerability such a bad thing to show? Why is it in this country, showing vulnerability can be perceived as a negative? The roles we play are so clearly defined by our genes, so it doesn't matter what jeans you wear.  Or does it?

It's as American as Apple Dumpling Day to be a guy's guy. The macho American stereotype is alive and well everywhere you look. Hit the local pub and there is sure to be a table of guys on one side of the room checking out a table of gals on the other side of the room. They are rarely at the same table, and when they are, there is still a dividing line. It is as American as Levi's to hide your emotions and stuff them down. It's a hard place to be when you have so much going on in your life that you want to look for that crutch. It's even harder when you need to be there to be the crutch for others. It's American to hold everyone else up, and stuff your feelings deep down where even you can't get to them.

If you stuff your emotions down long enough, and you support those around you long enough, the people who you hope to support you will assume you are fine and move on.  If you stuff your emotions long enough, you can partake in that other great American tradition... going Postal.

After a particularly bad day at work, a bad day at home, and then bad news we don't always know the best way to deal with the pressures and stress. Talking it out can certainly help, and finding someone you can talk it out with - or to - is one way to deal with things. It may even be more productive than an evening alone with Mr. Fiddich.  There is always the gym, and the Bonobo chimpanzee method of uncomplicated physical 'relations'. You could take a walk, take a break, take time to savour dessert, take a few clips to a target, or take a nap. Life is complicated. The best way to treat complications is with the simple things in life. That may not be 'American' but it sure is human

Rock and roll over

Thursday, 16 September, 2010 - A shelter near to home had a dog who was convicted of being a dangerous offender, and was sentenced to euthanasia for later this week. Someone has now broken this dog out of prison/shelter, and the dog is free to harm again. It's pretty similar to the revolving door justice we have here in general. How many times has this same dog has been imprisoned and then freed on bail, on a promise to appear, or even pardoned? How many times does a dangerous offender have to be through this cycle before they finally get a sentence that sticks (or sticks in a catheter)?  And an even better question is why would you want to have a dangerous dog in the first place?

My dog has that look... yellow eyes, stripy fur, and a nice big wide head. But, alas, he is a Chesapeake, and cautious of his own shadow. Small dogs terrify him, and cats are a complete unknown. Keep your eye on them, and play dead if they get too close. People are stick/ball/frisbee throwing machines who occasionally also provide food, water and frozen raw turkey necks. He has on occasion caused the odd person to jump back in fear, and each time, I'm not sure who is more startled. Bubba will also jump back and then wag furiously to try and win them over. His 'cousins' include one toddler, and one recently able to reach out and grab munchkin.  They will pull his tail, pull his ears, drape over him, throw balls, and feed him Cheerios. He has yet to so much as take the Cheerio with too much vigor. These are his puppies and he looks after them.  As a pet, my Chessie is as good as it gets. But there are other animals out there that make for good pets are there not?

How about those elongated rats that people keep in cages?  You know the ones I'm talking about.  They are rats fresh out of traction, and by the smell of them, the traction place is somewhere between the downtown eastside, and a pulp and paper mill. They have an odor that not even an owner could love. The point of these critters is beyond my comprehension. (Sorry C, but I never did understand.)

There are Iguanas - who for the most part are all named Iggy.  This is NOT original people. If you are going to have an Iguana, why not name it Klaus, or Sven? I had a goldfish once. I would like to say he was a great pet, but what he lacked in entertainment value, he made up for in sheer determination. I would let this poor fish swim around in dirty water and often forget to feed him. But whenever he was found floating belly up, you could give him a couple of good pokes and he'd wake up, and swim around some more.  Usually, that was when I knew it was time to clean the bowl and give him a snack. The goldfish didn't so much as have a name as he did a sound effect. His 'name' was Glllppp - not quite Gulp... there is no vowels and more of an inhaled throaty sound. If I knew then of this clicking language I might of tried one of their words.

Some people keep birds. Other than a badly tie-dyed poodle, this could be the most colourful of pets. They can be purchased to match any decor. I've gone with a grey/orange theme.  There is a bird out there that would match perfectly. If not for the bird shit that would inevitably hit the ground, the sofa, the divan... I could accessorize nicely with a feathered friend.

When my dog is no longer with me, I will seek to keep a more peaceful, quiet, less demanding pet. You can be sure this won't be a cat, or a rat, or a dog in a hat. I'm seeing something a little more organic, and easy to care for.  I shall not name him Rocky, or Stoner, or Petro, or Sandy, or Bonny, or even Flint. I shall name him George. I'm guessing George will be a little sedimentary, but as far as pet rocks go, G is going to be something special. Perhaps I should start by celebrating Collect Rocks Day. I think George will need to fit in to a pocket to make it easier to slip him in to the office. Rex is a little harder to sneak in, and if I can bring my pet to work, I surely won't need a rock walker or rock sitter. I can't imagine the house without a pet. The good thing about bringing home a new rock is they generally sleep through the night right from the start. No early early morning walks, and no late night strolls. They don't bark, don't scratch the furniture, are house trained, and they don't shed. I don't recommend taking them to the beach. Once they hit the water, they have a tendency to drown. But you can be sure that they won't cause your insurance rates to go up, and they will never turn on you or anyone else. Since the likelihood of them ending up in a shelter for dangerous or violent behaviour is pretty slim, you won't ever have to break them out. Pet Rocks rock.

Vote for Pedro

Wednesday, 15 September 2010 - Unlike many human beings, North Americans have lived their lives in a mostly just, mostly open, mostly accepting, mostly responsive society. For us there are so many things that are taken for granted and for which we rarely give much thought or thanks. Take democracy for an example.  Democracy is what gives each and every one of us (over the age of 18) the right to vote, to express our opinions, and to have a say in how we will be governed. This is a luxury that so many countries do not afford it's citizens. Can you imagine living under the regime of the Nazi's? And what if you happened to not only live under a Nazi government, but also happened to be Jewish? It was today in 1935 that the Nuremburg Laws took away citizenship to all German Jews. That same day the Nazi flag (swaztika and all) was adopted as the new German flag.

Turn on the television set, and we get bombarded with ads for this bill and that bill. We get told how this candidate did Debbie, and that candidate drinks shaving lotion, but at least we get to choose. Ok, so there isn't always a lot to choose from, but still you get to put an X in a box that corresponds to your opions, beliefs, values, and fetishes. Nazi Germany may be gone, but there are still hundreds of countries that don't believe the citizens should have a say, and often times, even have a value (unless of course they have gold fillings... then they are worth $1267.81 per ounce).

In 2008, the United Nations decreed that September 15 shall be International Day of Democracy. The preamble to the decree reads as follows:

while democracies share common features, there is no single model of democracy and that democracy does not belong to any country or region...

democracy is a universal value based on the freely-expressed will of people to determine their own political, economic, social and cultural systems, and their full participation in all aspects of life.

The point of such a day is to promote the role of parliaments as a key to democracy and all that democracy promotes, and to encourage Governments to celebrate democracy and newly formed democracies. It is not the point of the day for countries to invade other countries and force democracy upon them. That would be wholly undemocratic. Surely there are parts of - say - the Middle East that could benefit from a democratic system of some kind, but I doubt the West would be the best to deliver that message. If you tape a note to a bomb, the note burns up too. That is just simple physics. But now if there is oil in them there hills, you might want to not only create a democracy, but also build up a really good relationship with the newly elected. Perhaps you could provide support payments for parliament and help to solidify that good relationship. Then, when negotiating for oil, it would be a little like negotiating for alimony. There is something parliamentarians know all about.

Today is also the start of National Hispanic Heritage Month.  Yes, the month begins on the 15th of September and ends on the 15th of October. It's just like a month, only different. Maybe that's how the Mexicans do things. Or perhaps, it has to do with living on Latin time. They had every intention of starting National Hispanic Heritage Month on September 1st, but just didn't get around to it until today. Ok, the real reason September 15 was chosen is because September 15, 1821 is the day that five Latin American countries all declared independence. Mexico - true to form - followed a little late, and declared independence on the 16th. To celebrate, show up late.

You may or may not agree with any of this post, but the real beautiful thing about living in a democracy - writers can write anything they want. Readers can read anything they want. If you have read this far, and are seething, that is ok.  If you have read this far and agree, that is ok too. There is a place to post comments underneath this post, and you can post anything you like in response to these words. Isn't freedom and democracy a good thing?

Need help?

Tuesday, 14 September 2010 - Have you ever noticed that the magazines and diet books are always found near the checkouts of the grocery stores? They don't put them in the chips aisle, and they aren't found near the ice cream and frozen cakes. That would not be good for business. Instead, they are at the check-outs and after you have already filled your cart with the four essential food groups - bagged, boxed, bottled and canned. But there you are, waiting in line (the slowest line in the store no doubt), reading the covers of Elle, Flare, Cosmo, Women's World, Vogue, O, and Prevention while munching on a bag of Doritoes for which you are yet to pay. There are articles on the latest fashions and the newest looks of course, but there are also pages and pages of the latest super food, beverage, supplements and secrets to losing weight. By shedding a few pounds you will be able to wear this season's corduroy tights without looking like last year's Thanksgiving turkey stuffed into a cornish game hen's trousers, your sex life will look like that of a porn star, and you will be a more successful. How does CEO sound? But hey... no pressure folks.

As consumers, we get bombarded with diet plans after we've filled our cart with groceries. You go to a book store looking for the latest Tom Clancy, only to find that the fiction section is now half the size it used to be despite a boom in publishing. The self help aisle, on the other hand has more than doubled. If you need help being a better, more focused, easier to get along with, smarter, more flexible, better organized, happier, more relaxed, better at relationships, less bitchy, more desirable, more manly, more engaged, healthier, less cranky, more courageous, spiritually enlightened, self-connected, assertive, emotionally mature, outgoing, positive, mindful, more passionate, less co-dependent, friendlier, more optimistic, new and improved version of you, than you are in luck. No doubt there is a book or six on the shelf just for you that will guide you through on the journey of self discovery to You 2.0.

September is Self Improvement Month. A trip to Chapters or Barnes and Nobel, and even those without issues will be convinced they need help. If you come up with something that worked for you to get over a loss, or life change, it would be worth finding yourself a publisher and a promoter and sell your technique. Promote yourself shamelessly, and next thing you know you will have a variety talk show where you can help fix the illiterate masses too. Next thing you know, people will be looking to you to fix their lives so they too can become bigger (well, smaller maybe), better, and faster. September is also Shameless Promotion Month. Go ahead and promote your self-help solution. Physician... heal thy masses.

Make your cake and eat it too

Monday, 13 September 2010 - Why can you not have your cake and eat it too?  What is the point of having cake if not to eat? Cake does make for great decoration, and if you are going to decorate a cake, you might as well go the whole hog. Pour the fondant, make ribbons and bows, and then... for dog's sake... eat the cake.

C is for Cake... a special food. If cake were not so special, it would not be the centre piece of birthdays,  weddings, and anniversaries. But why limit the reach of the cake. There are graduation cakes in the shape of the mortar board chapeau, congratulations cakes, cakes for baby showers in the shape of baby buggies, Christmas cake in the shape of a well formed door stop (this is one cake that is special in its number of uses), surprise cakes large enough to encase a stripper, and liver and peanut butter cakes for dogs in the shape of bones.  I'm sure there are other celebrations that could have cakes too...  the "Hey you failed a grade cake" that doesn't rise in the middle.  There is the "you're fired cake" that is pink in colour and there is only enough for everyone else.  The "wake cake" shaped like a coffin and soaked in rum could make someone a fortune.  Hey, your customers are dying to get one of these cakes.

There is an entire other market for cakes that may be overlooked. The sans cake cakes... you know the ones... lacking in eggs, dairy, gluten.  A good cake really needs eggs, dairy and gluten, but for the cardboard lovers out there, the sans cake cake is at least cake like, and often shaped like a cake. With enough icing, the sans cake cake can taste remarkably like cake. There was a time when the sans cake cake took some fancy bakery work and a lot of patience. Today, Betty Crocker has cake mixes for sans cake cake that mean us Celiacs can actually have the holy grail of party food. Celiac Awareness Day could be celebrated right after all. Pour a bottle of gluten free beer and you have a virtual party with virtual party food. Sadly, the one thing gluten free beer needs to taste like beer is gluten. But don't lose heart.  Think positive, there is no gluten to speak of in Scotch.

Hell, think positive all day long... it's Think Positive Day.  With that kind of attitude you could probably make gluten free donuts taste alright for at least one day.  Ok, maybe not for the whole day... gluten free donuts could really use a little gluten. Besides, there isn't any wisdom about having your gluten free donut and eating it too.

The gene pool is awfully shallow....

Sunday, 12 September, 2010 - Darwin may have known something we knew instinctually, but hadn't put thoughts around.  The strong survive, the weak get eaten. And the strong pass on their genes. Take a look at humans over the last hundred decades.  We are taller than we used to be. The tall survive, the short get eaten. This could be a function of the length of stride and required leg turnover in order to outrun the rest.
We mature much faster than we did before.  Girls with breasts survive, the breast challenged get eaten. Even breast-less chickens become food for other chickens.  But are we getting any smarter?

When you look at the birthrates of North America at least, it seems as though the birthrates are declining in the suburbs and upper west side, but the projects and the east side continue to grow.  Does this mean that the smart have careers, the not so smart have children? In which case, are we skewing evolution? If two very smart people have children, do they become adults with twice the smarts - and thus able to carry the weight of smart requirements for a larger number of the not smarts? Will they also pay twice the taxes?

What happens when the weak, short, slow to develop, not so bright people do really weak, short, slow to develop, not so bright people things that has them die up to their potential?  Like the guy who scaled the 10' wall at the Gorge to get in to a concert only to find the other side of the fence was the gorge and plummeted to his death?  Darwin would be proud.  The Darwin Awards, awarded posthumously to those who lose their lives doing really stupid things, is yet another example of the strong, tall, developed and smart survive. When stupid people do stupid things that lead to their death, not only does it help chlorinate the gene pool, but it is suicide by stupidity.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. There are many people among us who are down, depressed and may feel as though there is no way out but to take their own lives. Would you know if there is someone in your life that feels this way? Can you recognize the signs? Do you have the tools to help? If you answer no to any or all of these questions, you are not alone. I work on an automatic train system, and every day on the job I hope that today isn't the day that someone feels that deeply desperate. I don't know that I would recognize the behaviours that indicate a person's intention to do harm to themselves, but I do hope that my instincts would tell me what I need to know. If we all let our instincts tell us someone is in need of help, and have the grace and the guts to act on that feeling, we may be able to prevent someone from doing harm to themselves. They may yet have something valuable to add to the gene pool.

Rumours and information... never the twa' shall meet.

Friday, 10 September 2010 - When there is no water cooler, and there are no scheduled meetings, and you have a brilliant idea, where do you go?  What if you have the juiciest bit of gossip that you swore you would NEVER tell, but you always tell your cubicle mate everything and you can't find him? I mean, if you don't tell somebody you are going to burst.  After all, why be privvy to info if you can't share? And the juicier it is, the harder it is to keep to yourself.

So ultimately, if you have juicy info about yourself that you don't want spread around, why would you tell even one person? The trick to perception engineering is to only release the info you want to have spread by the gossip girls and the rumour males. Then, you control the gossip and the outcome.  But you can't participate in this gossip. You need to merely plant the info with one 'confidante' and let the pieces fall into place.

Where I work, there is not a lot of opportunity to see everyone all together. We work spread out over kilometres and as a result, rumours are often the only way we get to 'keep in touch'. It actually replaces real conversations and rumours become the reality.  If this is the case, we have one team member who is dog's gift to women (he seems to have a half dozen on the go) and a supervisor who is a true tyrant (who appears to be responsible for everything.) I guess the reality and the rumour at some point intersect, but after the story gets told a few times, it takes on a life of its own. Deep down inside, we are all writers who embellish and give creative license to our tales - whether true or not.

Creativity is one of the things I have always thought seperated us from the animals. Creative ideas is what has pushed civilization in to the digital age. If Grampa Moses hadn't had the idea that if he had a small box with buttons in his hand, and some way of transferring the actions from one device to another, he could change the channels directly from the barcalounger. Now there is the opposite argument - that laziness is the mother of invention, but even laziness can stir creativity. I mean, what else do you do with your mind while you lay about?  The wheel - too lazy to carry shit.  The TV - too lazy to hold a newspaper.  The talkies - too lazy to read.  The computer - too lazy to spell.  But all these ideas turned out to have big impact on everyone. And some ideas spark further ideas.  And an exchange of ideas IS what separates us from the animals. Today you can celebrate being human by participating in Exchange of Ideas Day. No matter how big your ideas are or how insignificant they might seem, a small idea can spark a larger idea, that can spark a change in the lives of us all.

Out with the old...

Tuesday, 7 September 2010 - Storage rooms could be more aptly named "Black Hole" room or "Avalanche" room or the "Crap" room, not to be mistaken as the 'crapper' or the room in which one craps. It is the catch all room of the house that is the equivalent to the junk drawer, but on a larger scale.  The question is, what exactly ended up in that room, and if you emptied the entire contents would you find not only that pair of shoes you are sure you still have, but also your long lost cousin Saul?

The storage room, or catch all black hole/avalanche/crap/venti junk drawer, is a great place to visit once and awhile. It is not, however, a 'stop by for tea' visit, but rather a long weekend. There are going to be things you find in the back of that room that will not only make you wonder why you still have it, but will take you on a virtual reminiscing vacation. Those knee-high rainbow socks seemed like such a good idea back then. There is a set of golf clubs behind the door that you could have sworn you sent out to the back alley before the last move, and a box of old greeting cards and birthday wishes from people you haven't seen in a decade. Of course visiting this particular room will also cause you to dig through old phonebooks and day timers looking for the phone number of that guy who used to work in the building across from that place you worked 11 years ago who came to your birthday party that one time and brought with him an excellent scotch. Surely he will remember you... if only you could remember his last name or the name of the company he worked for.

Keep digging and you find a box of snap shots you knew had been here somewhere. You just didn't expect that it would be in the bottom of the snorkel gear bag. Those pictures are worth a thousand words...  each.  Or at the very least, they are worth a thousand shudders, a few head shakes, a couple of shoulder shrugs, and a glass of wine.  Huh. Did you know you even owned snorkelling gear? And from where the hell did this chef's jacket and pouffy hat come?

The storage room is really a room of mystery and memory. It's better than a photo album, and more entertaining that Thanksgiving and there is no better day than today to go through yours. Today is Another Look Unlimited Day. This is meant to be a day to go through your stuff, take a few moments to reminisce, and then decide what you no longer need to keep and pass them along to charity or someone else. If you didn't know you owned snorkel gear, you probably don't need it. The fronts of greeting cards can be donated and used for arts and crafts, and used film canisters can always find a new use.  Why you still have 3 cases of them, you'll never know. You can always Google a donation centre near you. Perhaps your Cousin Saul could be donated to charity.  How is he with a shovel? Now if only you had found that bottle of scotch... guaranteed you could put THAT to good use.  

PS - Happy 10th Birthday Google. Now where did I put that box of birthday cards?

Procrastinating won't stop the fall

Monday, 6 September 2010 - Here we are, Back to School Eve.  How are you feeling?  Getting excited yet? Ready to jump in with both feet, pack your shiny new backpack full of new supplies and a fifth of gin to help get through Day 1?  As a kid, I was always very excited to go back to school, and I couldn't wait to unpack my bag with all my new pencils and notebooks.  I was always disappointed when it dawned on me that this was only half a day, there was no need for the new notebooks or my mega-pack of coloured pencils, and we really didn't learn a thing. I no longer go to school, and I don't have children to pack up and send to school, but Labour Day always makes me happy.

From tonight on... all the neighbourhood kiddies will be going to bed early.  They will not be hanging out at the golf course all week, and when I take my dog to the field in the mornings and afternoons, we will have the park to ourselves - mostly.  There may be other dogs and their humans, but they will NOT be school aged. I very much welcome routines and schedules, especially those routines and schedules of others.

Alas, Labour Day is also the end of summer. So what did summer bring you this year? As I look back I can say it has been a summer of ups and downs. July brought my best friend closer to home, I spent lots of time with my family in Seattle and got away just often enough to feel like I had a break from work. I finally furnished my flat - and in doing so discovered that I can play the role of adult in a pinch. I have made great strides at the office - I found a balance in my mind and am learning to let work be work.  These are all big ups.

There were downs as well.  In my attempt to deal with the sadness that was my birthday, I let a friend see the weak side of me. Result - she walked out of my life. I learned that the old adage "you know who your friends are in difficult times" is true. Thank goodness it wasn't something serious huh? Then there was my anchor, who in anchoring her own life moved away. People enter your life for a moment, a season or a lifetime. On the up side, it has given me a kick to get moving myself.  Wonder how far I can run this time?  I accused a friend of running once. Funny I didn't see that mirror I was holding at the time.

Though today may mark the end of the summer season, it is the start of a new start. Take it and run with it. Make the changes you want to make. After all, today is also Fight Procrastination Day. My hunch is that this would be a difficult fight. In order to fight something it has to come to the fight - and procrastination isn't there yet.  However, if you can battle the procrastination within yourself then today is your day... even if only for a moment, a season, or your lifetime.

Your first job says so much

Saturday, 4 September 2010 - What was your first job? Was it flipping burgers at a McDonalds? Bussing tables in a restaurant? Working the dials at a radio station or working in a hotel gift shop? How long did you keep your first job? Was it longer than a few months? Did you quit the first time they asked you to work on a Saturday night when you could be out with your mates?

There is a distinct possibility that your first job has an impact on the career you are in today. If you turned out to be a good employee and worked your way from bus boy to head waiter - you are still a mover and a shaker. Or, you now own or manage a restaurant, or chain of restaurants. If you started out at a fish farm feeding the fish and pulling out the dead ones, would you be working now as a data specialist? Theres real numbers in fish in, fish out, fish thin, fish stout. Was your first job picking fruit at an orchard? What about the guy who goes around harvesting all the juice out of those tiny little buckets hanging from all the apples at Motts?  He's now a successful TV Infomercial sales guy who's developed a more efficient way of getting the juice out of the apples. Hey, he may have started out small,b ut today, Jack Lalanne is making juice out of carrots, and oranges, and pears, and cabbage.

My first job was as the Chicken Mascot for a radio station. My feathered alias was the LB Bird. I would go from the chicken suit to the control room where I would work as a DJ on the overnight show.  Today, I write a blog that few read, but it gives me an outlet of some version of creativity in the middle of the night. I was a chicken, I am a night hawk now. I once looked in to a paper route, but they expected you to deliver papers in the morning.  There was no way that was going to work for me. I still don't work in the morning.

A paper route was the first job for many of us... and our folks. In reality, the job of paper boy also required collecting the delivery fees from your route each week, and submitting the right amount. You might have helped, but mom or dad did the math, put the money away and drove you to the paper office each week.  The paper route carriers that took this job serious and managed their own money are today the top financial guys at Yahoo, Google, CNN, and Bloomberg.com.  They may not read a paper paper anymore, but they are still very up on the events of the day and the financial implications of every link you follow.

Today is Paper Carrier Day. Though the paper today may have gone mostly digital, but there are still paper carriers delivering the daily news. Of course they don't have quite as much work to do as before.  The papers are smaller, and therefore much lighter, and the money is gathered electronically. There is no muscle required and no math. Todays paper carriers are tomorrow's e-reporters, UPS delivery drivers, FedEx execs, and if they live in India, Purolator call centre employees.

Living breathing buildings

Friday, 3 September 2010 - Something I rarely do is to spend time downtown amongst the concrete and glass. It is a part of the city I look on and a view I admire. But as for spending time in that concrete jungle, I usually hover on the outskirts for no other reason but to avoid traffic.  On a Friday afternoon, let me just say the traffic is worth avoiding. Yet, hanging out downtown on a beautiful day just seems to be worth the traffic woes.  There is an energy to being in the heart of the downtown.

It is curious how blocks and blocks of skyscrapers - a blending of concrete, steel and glass - can seem to breathe. There is an entire world living right here under our feet and above our heads.  The skyscrapers are alive with energy, and they are often the trademark image of cities around the world.  Vancouver's skyline pictures are often taken from the water.  From the North, no image of Vancouver is the same without a picture of the sails over Canada Place.  From the south, the West End is not complete without a shot of the Burrard Street Bridge.  In Seattle, there isn't a picture of downtown that represents Seatlle without the Space Needle.  The Experience Music Project, though an extremely unique building, isn't as well known - and likely never will be. I could say the same about the New York skyline, but since the unplanned demolition of the World Trade Centre, the skyline is still taking some getting used to without the iconic buildings.

Skyscrapers provide character and identity to so many cities.  The was once known as the Sears Tower, Empire State Building, the twin towers in Kuala Lampur, the Taipei 101, the CN Tower....  these buildings are icons. There is more to these buildings than office space, observation decks, hotels, and shopping on the lower levels. They provide identity to the city in which they live, and no doubt created much discussion before the ground underneath them was broke. The race to the sky may have slowed a little, but trust me, the need for a ruler has not. These buildings are often borne out of a need to be bigger... and taller... then the next one. It's a lot like a urinal check... you know the one where you sneak a peak next door to see how you 'measure up'.

Today is Skyscraper Day. If you haven't ventured up to the top of one of these structures, take today to head up to the top. If you don't live near any great tall structures, than may I recommend you find the tallest building in town and ride the elevator. Scared of heights? No worry, I am as well.  I can go up, I just can't look down. So look out. see your city from the eyes of the skyscraper. I trust you will find that as the building inhales and exhales, it sways a little too.  Plant your feet and enjoy the ride. The view is pretty good too.

I do recall...

Thursday, 2 September 2010 - There are so many varieties of apples available it could make your head spin. Gravensteins are a variety that I have been seeking since the first time I had one of these apples back in 1997 on Vancouver Island. Yesterday, I found them in a fruit and veggie stand in Seattle. I guess it makes sense.  September is Apple Month. I have been to an Apple Festival - a gathering of all things apple - no Gravensteins.  I have been to the Okanagan and to Washington orchards - no Gravensteins.  I round the corner on my way home in Seattle, and there, in big flashing letters is a grocer who not only has Gravenstein apples, but is proud and loud. I hesitate to stop and gather some of these precious apples. What if they are not as I remember? Do I want to tarnish a memory that for 13 years has served me well?

Memory is probably our most human attribute. Memories can be massaged in to anything we want them to be.  You can recall even a bad time in a positive environment and water down the negatives. Recall that same memory surrounded by pleasing people and places, and that memory is watered down again.  Eventually, those bad memories can be replaced with memories of the positive parts. What about positive memories? When we recall those happy times, do we continue to make them even happier, thus making the past better than what the future can bring? Like telling a story, or witnessing a crime, each time the event or story is re-told, it takes on shades of the environment and the frame of mind you are in while you are recounting the tale. After a while, the story is nothing at all what it was, but may indeed be a better story.

This is the problem with eye-witness testimony. Eye witnesses are rarely able to recall the events as they happened. They mis-remember the colour of the shirt, and then every time they replay the events in their mind, the shirt will be the mis-remembered colour.  The 'perp' was no longer in the navy shirt he was really wearing, but the red one you were sure he had worn.  Next thing you know, the guilty party (the one in the blue shirt) goes free, and the poor sap in the red shirt that you are CERTAIN you remember gets punished.  The court system doesn't move that fast, and often times, by the time you would get to a stand to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, it is a year or two later. Imagine how many times you have told your story in that time, and how many times you've replayed the events in your head (complete with mis-remembered details).  There is nothing to say that what you are telling isn't true... it is your truth, but may not actually be nothing but the truth. So this rarely questioned, but wholly questionable evidence is often what puts away the bad people... hopefully.

So what about a capital murder trial? Same thing goes huh? I sure wouldn't want to rely on the frailty of human memory to determine my fate. A death sentence is a hard one to take back once its carried out. Once one's head is separated from one's body, there is no way to re-attach it because the witness realized they may have remembered things inaccurately.  Don't think the drug cocktail they use to put someone down is reversible either, and once thousands of volts of electricity have ravaged ones cortex, I doubt you can re-allign the neurones and the sodium ions to bring the body back to life.  Sure there are appeals, and lots of time to ensure you really do have the right person sentenced to death, but innocent people have died that shouldn't have. Maybe when beheading was the flavour of the day there were a few heads in those baskets still saying "I'm innocent".  How long before the brain knows the head is no longer attached?  How long do the eyes continue to register what they are seeing before the world goes black? Hey... we maybe avoid the guillotine now, but I bet those heads could still see and hear for longer than you might think. Today is Beheading Day.  Let it be a comfort to you to know that if you do lose your head today, the moment the blade goes through your neck is likely not your last memory.  Your last memory might be the weave of the basket in to which your head fell. On the up side, you won't have enough time to recall the memory, so it will most likely still be a pretty accurate memory the rest of your life.

I'm a nut, you're a nut, everyone's a nut nut

Wednesday, 1 September 2010 - It is a new month, and as often happens at the beginning of some time delineation, we get to thinking of all the things we can begin. September is the beginning of a new school year for so many. It is the start of diet season for so many more, and fitness classes will see a boom in participants - at least for the first few weeks. Funny, for all the years I went to school and for how much I enjoyed school, I still dread September.

September to me feels like the start of a rapid downhill slide to the year's end. Another year will have come and went, and I yet I continue to stand still. I dreamt last night of my grandfather. In trying to sort out what that might have meant for me, we came up with a few options. Perhaps he represents a time in my life when I felt more secure. He died when I was but seven years old. Maybe he represents the lack of stability - that eventually everyone leaves. I occasionally wonder what it is about my past that has me frozen in my present, unable to make commitments and so fiercely independent. My reality is, that I want to make a commitment. I want to be needed and to be needy, and I want a future. Am I the only crazy one here? I look back at the men in my life and I can see why I've always run from commitments.  Nobody stays forever. They die. They leave. They take their masks off. They bail. They run. They get suffocating. So rather than experience that all over again, it's easier not to get in to the situation in the first place. Right? Come on.... agree with me dammit.   No?  Hmmm, turns out maybe I'm a nut. However, I guarantee I am not alone.Pick up the phone, and call any one of the people in your address book and for sure there is something about all of them that is a little nutty.

It used to be that making a call to anyone in your contacts list required going through an operator.  She or he would connect you to your other party, listen in on the conversation, and at the end of the conversation, end the connection and the call. I can only imagine how nutty the people in those calls seemed to the operators. Mind you, at that time, I'm betting we didn't just call up a girlfriend to talk about the too short skirt Peggy had the nerve or lack of sense to wear yesterday. We certainly didn't make calls just to pass the time because we waiting at a table in the bistro down the way for our dining mate to arrive. Operators played an important role in communications at one time. It was on this day in 1878 that Emma M. Nutt was hired on as the first woman telephone operator in America. Emma worked at the job for 33 years, and probably in that time heard her fair share of insane conversations. Today is named in her honour - Emma M. Nutt Day - and is meant to celebrate telephone operators.  I suspect that at one point in time you would have had operators you could invite to a celebration and to whom you could feed cake. Nowadays, operators are just automated voice messaging systems, and unless you are also serving pizza and cases of Coke, the geeks that now program our 'operators' probably aren't interested in a tea social. Emma Nutt would have enjoyed the celebration. She was a swell gal. She was also very thankful her first name was not Imma.

Summer hits the trail

Tuesday, 31 August 2010 - Well folks, this is it.  This is the end of August. Tomorrow it is September and you know what that means right? Christmas decorations will begin appearing in a retail window near you.  Indeed Costco has had their Christmas decorations, trees and outdoor lights in stock and on display for over three weeks already. Soon, the city will be out putting up new fall and winter banners, and school will be back in session.

How was your summer? Did you get enough time in the sun? Did you soak up a year's allotment of Vitamin D? Did you commune with nature enough to give you your warm and fuzzies until June? How about all those fishermen and campers? Did you get out there a sufficient number of times so as not to say next year I will try and get out more? I know I didn't get nearly as much golf in as I had wanted to this season, and so I will attempt to play a few more rounds in the fall - when all the kids are back in school and the weekdays on the course can return back to the adults. But, no doubt I will be vowing to play more next year.

I thought this year I would spend some time hiking on not so level terrain in hopes of getting a bit more physical and maybe get ready for a larger hike in a foreign country. I was ready to stock up on hiking boots (ooh... an excuse to buy shoes), and get one of those handbags that have two straps and are worn on one's back that these outdoorsy people all seem to have. I've been told to hit the trail a few times, and this summer I fully intended on doing just that.  I even developed my own trail mix blend that not only tasted good, but was loaded with both healthy good stuff and a requisite amount of dark organic chocolate chunks. Hmm... maybe a trip to Whole Foods is in order.  My trail mix is actually pretty good off the trails, and it is Trail Mix Day. Organic almonds, dried cranberries, pecans, walnuts, chocolate and mango is as good as it gets.  Add to that a cheese plate and a glass of red, and you have the kind of dinner or dessert that says "I have taste, but not too domestic."  With this, I can live.

Alas, as we say good-bye to August, and we near the end of baseball, boys in tight white pants, and summer vacation, we look forward to the fall.  A new collection of fall sweaters in the latest colours and warmer trousers is always good. I don't look so out of season in the fall when I'm bundled up in a sweater or two. I bet that I could pair this seasons latest colours with a pair of hiking boots and matching trekking jacket and hit one of those trails yet. After all, if we were to take that trail stroll in that foreign country, I'm thinking it wouldn't be so warm at the top of the hill.  I'll go get the nuts.

Holy Holistic

Monday, 30 August 2010 - The Internet has changed much about how we approach life.  Even for the simplest of questions, we no longer look to a book, or a dictionary, or our thesaurus.  Instead we go to Amazon.com, Dictionary.com and Wikipedia.org.  When we think about vacations, we no longer go in to a travel agent, we hit the web and look at Travelocity.com, TravelBestBets.com, PriceLine.com, CheapFlights.com or Expedia.com.  Amazingly, we know not only where to look, but we know the web address and no longer go looking for the phone book.  Hell, if you need a phone book, we go to 411.com, Canada411.com, YellowPages.com, WhitePages.com, or DexKnows.com.  When is the last time you opened up a cookbook? Myself, I go to recipes.com, FoodNetwork.com, epicurious.com, or food.com and spin the laptop around on the bar.

I can't remember the last time I went to a book store for the sole purpose of buying a book.  A trip to a bricks and mortar bookstore for me is to browse to see what I will order online and have downloaded direct to my Kindle, and to sip a 'quad grande Americano, easy water non-fat misto'.  Do you remember the last time you were at the movies and an actor on screen reminded you of another movie they acted in but you couldn't remember the name of the movie? I do, and on my phone, I quickly opened by imdb.com app and got the name of the movie.

When I'm out grocery shopping in a real store (something I could be doing online at Stongs.com or NetGrocer.com), I often rely on google.com, celiac.com or the MayoClinic.com website to ensure the foods I'm about to purchase are indeed gluten free. The Internet has certainly changed the way we do 'everyday life.'  Even the common cold is researched before a trip to the Doctor's office.

The internet has had a massive impact on the way we are diagnosed, and our interactions with the medical community.  Today, patients are going in to their physicians armed with intelligent questions, ready for a consultation and discussion, not just a diagnosis and a prescription.  The recent focus on holistic and alternative therapies, partially driven by our urge to self diagnose and often self treat (thanks to all those zero's and one's) has also contributed to a big boom in natural treatments. When I have any symptom, I go straight to the net to see what it could be, and what alternatives there are to treat the same. I don't just do this for myself. I do this for my dog as well.  Rex has hip displaysia. There are traditional veterinary options to treat this, ranging from NSAIDs and cortisone to pain control. Fortunately, my DVM is also a firm believer in alternative therapy. Instead, she's recommended natural joint lubrication and anti-inflamatories, and I've gone online to find massage therapists and chiropractors that will treat my dog. Add to that a little water therapy (beach time!!), and Rex is on the path to a better life.  As it is Holistic Pet Day, I think Rex is on the correct path indeed.  We can avoid a whole whack of unpleasantries by looking for alternatives.  Shame it isn't also Holistic Human Day.  There are a whole whack of us who could perhaps use a new outlook.  Just search it out online.

Lay off the salt

Sunday, 29 August 2010 - Life without flavour would be a terribly dull place would it not?  What about life with only one flavour? Or one food that gets presented day in and day out?  My dog has been eating lamb and apple for the past 40 days. I'm sure that gets a little hard to swallow after a while, so today I switched out the lamb for Salmon and Herring.  He was drooling more than the usual small puddle at brunch, so I'm assuming he was excited about the change. I doubt he will still be as excited in another 39 days.

I had rice cakes and peanut butter for dinner last night.  For breakfast this morning, I had rice cakes and peanut butter.  Funny enough, they tasted just as good today. I have a sneaking suspicion that if I try for the same again tonight, I might not find them as delicious. North Americans have really become spoiled for variety, even though many of us have a fairly habitual eating regime.  Take away our flavours and even the most habitual of eaters will take notice. In the summer, fresh basil is my favourite flavour.  Thyme and lemon are also pretty spectacular.  In the winter months, garlic and oregano seem to fit best.  At work the other night a whole baggy of oregano was found... I can't imagine anyone wanting to carry around their herbs, but perhaps they were going home to make a little Italian fare, no?

Hmm.... you mean that wasn't oregano? Here I thought he was a Chef d'Cuisine.

Today is More Herbs Less Salt Day.  If you are going to be burning a few herbs today, perhaps you need to snack on fruit and stay away from the salty munchies.

There is a move on to make 'herbs' legal.  I don't know that this will necessarily accomplish much. In Vancouver anyway, police will rarely do much for possession of a small personal amount of herb. There are legal, medicinal marijuana locations, that those who have a prescription can obtain their herbs. For people with particular disorders and diseases, and those going through difficult treatments, it turns out a little oregano can be very beneficial.  So what would legalizing really help?  Perhaps you could collect herb taxes, similar to tobacco taxes but I would bet they would be much much higher. If you legalize it, are you actually going to then issue business licenses to grow ops?  Would the government become grow ops or would the houses with the tinfoil curtains merely become industrial, cheapen the process, decrease the THC content, increase prices, and start short changing the baggy size all in the name of profit?

I'm guessing that you would never eliminate black market sales - like reservation cigarette sales - where 'herb'alists will be looking to avoid paying the grossly inflated taxes. The grow-op next door won't actually lose the tinfoil drapery, but they could put a nice bright neon sign on the roof advertising their business hours. Now you not only have a mold issue, but light pollution, which could lead to a whole new area of neighbourly strife.

Legalizing oregano could lead to another type of roadside breathalizer, and new traffic woes. Instead of speeding and weaving drunk drivers, you would have way too mellow drivers.  The posted speed limit signs would need a new set of minimum speed signs to ensure traffic continues to move. Imagine how pretty those traffic lights could really seem.  Red light?  What a great colour.  Did you see how red that light was man? Wow, that's amazing.  Oh yeah, where was I going?  Oh, I'm late.  Oh well.  I'll get there soon enough.  Ooh.... Yellow.   Yellow is a really great colour.  Did you see how yellow that light was man?

Hey...  it is Sunday today.  Relax, take a load off.  Pull out your herbs, and lay off the salt for the day.

A short trip

Saturday, 28 August 2010 - Summer seems to go by at the speed of light. It was only a couple of weeks ago that the rainy spring was finally breaking and the sun was out to grace us with its presence. And then, lo and behold, the last week of August is about to appear, and I'm not sure I've even begun to appreciate summer.  I've worked a lot this past couple of months (no big change there huh?), and spent very little time out enjoying the warming rays. Here I sit, at the kitchen bar, laptop open, towel on my head, *thinking* about maybe sauntering out to enjoy a bit of Sol.

Hmmm  Sol......  isn't that a light refreshing beer?  Ok, change in plans.  I will saunter off to the closest patio, take my Kindle, and have a Sol in the Sol. I'm reading a book that is staged in Thailand in the sun and heat.  That is three checkmarks in the sunshine category.  Perhaps I will call a few bubbly friends with sunny dispositions and see what kind of revelry will ensue.  Isn't this what summer Saturdays are for?

Sadly, this will all take place in my head, as I will again be at work today.  I will spend my afternoon and evening sometimes above ground, but often times below ground.  One thing is for certain, there are many many other people out there soaking up the Sol while soaking in the Sol.  There will be many a beveraged buddy out there tonight to deal with. On the up side, I won't need to be there until late afternoon.

I will indeed saunter down the road, find a cafe, bring my kindle, and my dog and bask in the sunshine for a short while anyway.  I don't know where you might find yourself today, but where ever it is you go, be sure to take the slow road. Meander meaningfully, and enjoy Sauntering Day.  Take it easy.  There is only so much summer left and you had better take it in...  fall is around the corner and she takes you on a very short walk straight in to winter.

What does your car say about you?

Friday, 27 August 2010 - The world is full of anomalies. There are things that just make good sense, and then there are things that make you go 'hmmm.' How about cars?  Make good sense right?  They get us were we need to go, and they get us there quickly. They come in a variety of styles ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime. My current favourite is the Dodge Charger... It is like sex on four wheels. I think laying on the hood of it and revving the engine might be as close as you could come to 'auto'erotica. There are minivans for transporting all those kiddies which make you wish you hadn't had sex in four wheels. There are convertibles that leave you hoping there is a brush in the glove box, and there are sedans for when we get old. In reality, our cars tell a lot about who you are... practical, emotional, yuppie, under-endowed, family focused, egoist, tree-hugger, asian, student (you know you had one of these cars once... held together with duct tape), workaholic, drug dealer, pimp, or in the midst of a mid-life crisis.

My car is a cross-over... part mini-van, part hatch-back, part car. Any way you slice it, my car says practical - which actually doesn't say much about me at all.  I have this car because it gave the Dog his own space. Fortunately, it is also good on gas and still fits well in to the small car spaces in the parkade. Of course this doesn't say much. There are many SUV's and trucks parked in these stalls, so close to the other cars that you have to hope the Mini Cooper next to it has a sun-roof so the guy can get back in to his car.

So in this era of reduce-reuse-recycle, why is it that you still see so many giant new vehicles on the road? Other than the obvious need to pump up their munchkin member, what must the fuel bill be like for these beasts? Are the car companies getting a kick back from the oil companies to continue to produce such unnecessary vehicles? Maybe today there will be a large sale on Suburbans and Expiditions in celebration of Oil and Gas Industry Appreciation Day. We can all celebrate this one today. Let's rev our engines, idle for hours, and then fill up and thank the Oil and Gas Industry for all they have done.

Seriously, it isn't as though the large majority of us are going to give up our cars for Mother Earth, but we can learn to drive smarter, less often, and whenever possible, move to more fuel efficient cars.  Perhaps then we can stop the rushed raping of the earth's oils and avoid some of the greatest environmental disasters we've seen - thanks to the Oil and Gas Industry.  BP and Exxon have caused enough damage in this lifetime I'm sure.  So yes, today we appreciate this industry, and at the same time, we scratch our heads about the damage they cause. How can you appreciate BP, especially if you live along side the Gulf of Mexico? Today is also Global Forgiveness Day, so maybe we don't appreciate BP at the moment, but we can forgive them could we not? After all, we still drive cars to go to 6 blocks. Perhaps Mother Earth will forgive me when I trade in my practical and fuel efficient car on my black Dodge Charger with a V8 Hemi.  Keep pumping that oil folks, I'm gonna need it

Creativity and caffeine...

Thursday, 26 August 2010 - There are days when the words spew off my fingertips without much thought or consumed energy. There are times when after consuming liquid creativity the words fall off my fingers and spew.  Then there are days like today.  I know there are words trapped in the grey matter, I am just uncertain how I will get them from my closed net to the public net.

Perhaps I need coffee.  BRB.

Ok, so while the coffee brews, let me see what spills out.  When I was in school, creative writing was not my strong suit. In fact, writing was one of those things that I dreaded.  Book reports and essays were surely going to kill me.  As it turns out, they didn't, and when I thought I had handed in pure crap, I would still come away with a good mark. It is entirely possible that I have much higher expectations of myself than I need to have. Yet, time in and time out, when I hear those words "good job" or "nice work", I have a real difficult time swallowing the compliments. I am always sure I could have done much better and still don't feel I've accomplished 'good.' That is the perfectionist in me, and it isn't necessarily a positive trait.

Perfectionism translates in to feelings of mediocracy. If you can't reach perfect, does that make you mediocre? Seems a long way apart, but in my mind... if you don't have one, you have the other. The flip side of that is, if I feel like there is no perfection achievable, I just don't bother. Now I'm not saying these posts are perfection, and often times I don't know what to expect when I start typing (just like today), but they are a channel for some of the thoughts and ideas in my head that I have no place else to put. Many days, they are the melding of thoughts and ideas that don't really get filtered, but just put on paper.  Imagine if the Seattle Post or the Vancouver Sun were written this way?  I might actually start reading the papers again.  Give me a stream of consciousness about that shooting in Burnaby, or the beating by transit officials of a couple of street kids in the Seattle underground. I'm sure there would have been far more insight (or incite??) to the stories.

Mmmm... coffee.

Ok, so today, I have a couple of topics, and I have no idea how to string them together without being rude, degrading, or just off the mark.  So maybe I should stop aiming for perfection and just let it out.

Today is Dog Day, yes it is an entire day dedicated to your dog.  Isn't every day a day for your dog? My dog has the best of everything every day... a bed from LL Bean, a Dogirondak Chair that houses his water and snacks, lots of love, and a dog-walker who is very kind to him. When we travel, he usually travels with me, and gets much love and attention away as well. It helps that he is a remarkable dog. But today you should be extra kind to your four-legged buddy.  It is Dog Day.  I would like to make this very clear... it is NOT the Dog Days of Summer.  The traditional Dog Days of Summer are related to the rising of Sirius (Canis Major) or the Dog Star.  They are typically from July 3 to August 11 - or 40 days in that vicinity. No, today is just a day to spoil your dog.  So go ahead, spoil those bitches.

Speaking of spoiled bitches, today is also Women's Equality Day. This is one day we just don't need.  Every day seems to be about women't equality... still.  I get it.  We want to be treated like men. Well, here's one for you... I'm not a man. I have no interest in being treated like a man. I sit to pee, and I will likely always sit to pee.  Now don't get me wrong - I still believe in equal pay for equal work. Indeed there is nothing wrong with wanting to be treated with equal levels of hostility when you screw up. But if we are going to be treated as equals, then there are a few ground rules that need to be put in place.
First, be equal in everything.  Second, be equal in everything.  Third, be equal in everything.

I think the coffee kicked in!

Beige, I think I'll paint the ceiling ooh... look at these shoes!!!

Wednesday, 25 August 2010 - Kids grow really really fast. I watch my nieces grow and I am absolutely astonished at just how fast the girls grow out of stuff.  Any stuff really.  There was the seat that you could prop them in...  too small for them now.  There was the bouncy vibrate'y chair thingy that you could soothe them in... to small again. There is the Olympic wear that every good little half breed (half Canadian) should own... awfully tight. It is a common theme, and it seems to be a 6 week cycle.  I visit every 2-4 weeks.  I have made it my mission to bring on visits things they will not outgrow that quickly. Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea what that might be.

As the girls grow out of things, they are growing in to others.  Some of which were handed laterally from other girls a little older, but growing just as fast. The clothes that no longer fit are handed off to another family who too is watching their offspring spring right out of their clothes. It's a little 'reduce, reuse, recycle' and it works really well. A second-hand wardrobe - or third or forth hand - makes excellent sense when you are talking of the wee ones.  Hell, there are times when a second hand wardrobe could make good sense for the not so wee anymore ones. Today is Second Hand Wardrobe Day so if there is anything in your closet that you think should be being worn by someone, but that someone is no longer you, pass it off.

I have a large Rubbermaid container full of clothes that need a new home. I got a suggestion the other day that I put it outside with a sign saying the first $10 takes it.  The idea is that by putting a value on it, it is more likely to be stolen. Is it stealing if I just want to give it away? Second Hand Wardrobe Day could be about more than just moving things from your closet to another's.  Maybe it isn't selling, or offing, or dumping your stuff, but providing something for those who need it more than you. There is always someone out there who needs it more than you. (I'm not talking just about those out there with ZERO fashion sense and who do not own full length mirrors.)

Look around you.  Everywhere you turn these days it seems there is someone in need. As the summer turns to fall, people begin to look for warmer clothes. Clothes can be very expensive as we all know. Second hand stores and Good Will are great ways to help. A good shirt for $3 is easier for many than $75. Jeans for $5 rather than $105 is certainly more affordable. Sweaters and jeans could go a long way to providing a bit of protection from the elements. Whether they are in need of a 3.5 inch spiked leather knee boot with back lace-up or not is another question. And I'm not certain I'm ready to part with these babies yet.

I was out at a gala one night in a very sexy brand new pair of Bruno Magli shoes.  They were pointy and high and strappy...  and pure torture.  Not really the kind of shoe you give away to the homeless.  I on the other hand, threw them out of the window at a hooker we passed on the way home.  She seemed pleased.  And honestly, if you spend most of your time on your back, they shouldn't be so uncomfortable. They were really really hot shoes... so if her "dates" aren't very attractive, she can at least put her feet in the air and admire the shoes.

Things go whoosh boom burn

Tuesday, 24 August 2010 - If you live on the flood plains, why are you surprised when your basement floods? You live in tornado alley, yet when your mobile home becomes upwardly mobile, you look for answers.  The question should be why you rebuild your life in the path of a tornado? There is clearly understood economic reasons for living in the path of natural disaster. Often, people who live in these areas do so because they can afford to live there. Moving out of the area could take money they just don't have. Perhaps the family home has been passed down - and moved from concrete pad to concrete pad - for generations.  When, as a family, you are marginalized, it is no easy task to pack up your life and move. How will you pay for the move? How will you create a new life when you can barely afford the one you have?

Hurricane season too is but a month away which means there are a few people who's lives will be turned upside down and sideways - or at the very least, the car in the driveway and the lawn furniture will get a ride.  For me, it means low season prices on Mexican vacations, and a week in the sun.  If a hurricane comes through, it means an extended vacation and a few good stories when I get home.

You would think that after years and years of history repeating itself, people would have naturally migrated away from areas of danger as an example of evolution. There are patches of civilization that haven't altered their way of life in thousands of years. Some of these tribesmen live deep in the jungles of Brazil and Africa.  Some live in patches of land in Texas, Kansas and Oklahoma. Yet this is nothing new.  On today's date in 79 AD, Mount Vesuvius burst it's top in what was undoubtedly one of the largest single volcanic eruptions in history.  Over 3,300 people became part of the geology. If that wasn't lesson enough, in 1631, Vesuvius blew again, this time killing over 3,600.

Today is Vesuvius Day.  In honour of such natural disasters and the urge to live where one probably shouldn't, we should think to our friends in Insurance.  If you are not able to purchase flood insurance, you might be living in a flood zone.  If you can not purchase earthquake insurance, you might live in an earthquake zone. If you are unable to purchase volcanic damage insurance... well you know how this goes.

Myself, I live in one of the most beautiful parts of North America... a mere 100 miles from Mt. Baker - a volcano that has been known to spew and steam, a few kilometres from the San Andreas Fault, and blocks from an international Airport and a mass transit project.  I suppose I should know better, but honestly, I live in paradise. Ask Adam or Eve... even paradise is fleeting. One day I might look back on my decision to stay here and wonder if perhaps I too failed to learn from history.  In the mean time, I pay my insurance, and ignore the risk.  That could pass as a mantra for my life.  So far I am unharmed.

And he shall be known as Shvitsil

Monday, 23 August 2010 - One of the advantages of living along side the Cascades is the views. Everywhere you turn, there are purple mountains majesty, and snow capped peaks with such beauty at which you can marvel.  The scenery on the coast, especially the Pacific Northwest is like nowhere else.  The mountains provide an unending playground for the adventurous and the not so adventurous year round.  There is the Grouse Grind which is a gruelling climb - part hike, part staircase - that sees hundreds of visitors every day.  Day hikes and weeklong treks, mountaineering and mountain climbing, skiing, boarding, snowshoeing, heli-skiing, tubing, tobogganing, zip lining, hot tubbing, clubbing, camping, hotel guesting...  the options seem endless indeed.

The weather on the mountains also provide excellent variety. In one day you can experience warmth, cold, fog, rain, sun and snow, and get a bit of all of it again on the way down. But mountain adventures are had all over the world.  What about the folks who scale Kilimanjaro, Everest, Mount McKinley, Mount McKay...  are they adrenalin junkies?  Or maybe they are short statured and looking for a leg up?  There are so many cool places in the world that can provide adventuresome travel, some places where you can go it alone, and others where you might want to consider a sherpa.

In the coming year, myself and a couple of mates are looking at a mountaineering trip to Peru or Ecuador. Maybe that doesn't seem like the relaxing vacations of the Caribbean variety, but I'm sure that the weather will be warmer than it will be here on the 49th parallel, initially anyway.  I have been assured that there are several days of easy'ish hiking as we ascend mountains, passing streams, lakes, rocks, and snow. The crampons that will adorn my shoes are what I will call "mountain golf shoes". There are tents involved, but I've also heard word of Inns and "porters." A porter I've been told, is like a sherpa, only they lug up your stuff, set up tents, look after you, and then wait for you at the base camp to ensure you come down off the mountain alive. A porter sounds to me like a vacation slave.  Now see... I'm finding positives in this trek all over the place.

I have always wanted a slave.  I shall call him Shvitsil.  He will by my house boy, pool boy, shoe boy, man servant all around handy dandy 'porter.'  I will hug him and squeeze him and treat him well, but I will have very high expectations of him.  If I were very lucky, I would also have a driver... and he shall be known as Hobdee. I thought about calling him James - but it's just so last year. The driver slave will be responsible for all the driving... something of which I could really be happy to do away. I'm not enamoured with driving... but I am all over the keeping of slaves. Here's hoping the United Nations doesn't link to my blog. Today is International Day for the Remembrance of the Slave Trade and it's Abolition.  I'm guessing sherpas and porters don't really fall under the category of slave trade. I wonder though if my porter will allow me to call him Shvitsil?

Tomorrow never comes.... pass me a drink today.

Sunday, 22 August 2010 - When do you know it's time to say enough is enough? Do you need a sign?  Some kind of celestial signal? Perhaps it is time when your horror-scope says it's time.  I think everyone needs a sign... some kind of beacon or alarm that denotes time.  There is the morning alarm clock which ultimately tells you it is time to wake.  There is the pop up window that tells you it's time for your meeting, and there is the buzzer on the oven to tell you it's time to put in the roast. But what is the tell-tale sign that it is time to stop procrastinating, or some kind of kick to the behind that says you can think about it forever but if you don't actually put the shoes on, that run will never happen.  Seriously... why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?

Well, I suppose that is because tomorrow never really arrives.  There is ALWAYS a tomorrow... well, at least we can hope that is the case.  In reality, our next breath is assumed. Tomorrow may never arrive, and all we have is right now. We can't spend out lives waiting on tomorrow, or planning to 'start' that soon.  Sometime you just need to start. Start now, not tomorrow, don't wait for the perfect day of the week...  Monday... everything should start on a Monday.  Or Sunday - hey... that's today - because it's the start of the week according to the calendar.  

So it is Sunday, it is the start of the week, and it is now.  What will you start that you have put off?  I have been putting off many things because sometimes it is just easier to think that there will be another day to get to that.  I procrastinate myself right out of great ideas. It took me 11 months to settle on a sofa.  Rome wasn't built in a day you know.  On the other hand, at least the Romans got around to building the city.  If it were left to me, the gladiators would still be living in cardboard boxes on the side of dirt paths.

Alas, it is Sunday.  I will get started on a few things today...  like the laundry.  I've been looking at the pile of laundry that is beginning to take over my room and certainly the closet for some time now.  I have a large Rubbermaid container full of old clothes and household crap that I no longer want nor need that I have been moving from room to room for those same 11 months that it took to find the sofa upon which I am now sitting. I have hit the green grocer and stocked the fridge with the things that make my body happy - vegetables, vegetables, vegetables and fruit so that tomorrow I can eat healthily.  Today is already a right off.  I've had an enormous coffee and a Coke Zero for Breakfast, chased down with a Burger King Whopper - minus the bun.  Last night I was certainly no Angel, but today will be better - and will not include wine.  There was enough of that yesterday.  I may not have had a healthy start to the day, but I will have a healthy finish.  And tomorrow will flow from today.  I am no Angel, that is for sure, but seeing as it is Be An Angel Day, I can put my best foot forward and give it a go.  If I wait for tomorrow, it will be too late.

Of course, if I start tomorrow... it would be the start of a new week.  I like that plan the best.  Now, be an Angel and get me a glass of vino.

Left... unlucky

Friday, 13 August 2010 - Ah... Friday the 13th?  Good day for a horror film no?  What about a good day to run through the neighbourhood with a goalie mask?  Sickle?  Butchers knife?  Talking doll? (Sorry, wrong movie.) This is one of those days where anything you do or say is blame free.  Honestly?  Who could blame you? So where does the evil shroud of Friday the 13th come from, other than from some B Movie horror film with a guy named Freddie?

Fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia... and if you aren't afraid of the day, you should be afraid of having to pronounce that!  Seems to be that until the 19th century, there wasn't any real record of a Friday falling on the 13th being a bad luck day. But think about all the bad that is associated with the number 13?  There are 12 months in a year, 12 hours on a clock face, 12 apostles, 12 zodiac signs, 12 Olympus Gods...  Maybe 13 is unlucky cause it messes with the order of things.  And Fridays...  well, they say its a bad day to start a project, is a bad day for the markets (Black Friday ring any bells?), and it seems Friday wasn't a great day for Jesus. There are not too many 13th floors in towers and buildings (unless you are Chinese, in which case there isn't too many 4th or 14th floors).  Who knows what brought this about, all I know is that today is Blame Someone Else Day, and I have no intention of taking any blame for anything today. I will blame it on the day, on the numerology, on the evil spirits among us, the black cat next door, or that I walked under a ladder.  I WILL NOT take any actual blame myself... I will blame the curse of Friday the 13th.

Is being left handed a curse? I know that much of the world is built for right handedness, but being a right hander myself, I'm not sure how this really applies. Being careful where you seat people at the dinner table should be considered... and if you can put all the lefties on one side, and the rest of us on the other (hey - segregation has it's purpose), there will not be a battle of elbows. You could put all lefties in right hand drive cars and they can shift with their naturally dominant hand - or force them all to drive automatics. How do you build a left handed keyboard?  Would you move the backspace keys to the other side? Put the escape on the right (hey, learn to use your right and you too could escape). Fire extinguishers are build right handed. The pin is pulled with the right and the nozzle is controlled with the right.  Can a zipper be right or left handed?  Golf clubs are always available in Right, but need a Left set and you can wait awhile. Tennis rackets are right handed.  If you play with them on the left, the logo is backwards.  Maybe if you string them the opposite way?

Is it a coincidence that today is International Left Handed Day and a Friday the 13th?  Or, is left-handedness just as bad luck?  Actually, some of the most brilliant people I know are Lefties. Maybe because you are forced to think about even the smallest and most mindless moves you activate more synapses and get more brain action than you do as a right hander. It's possible that you have to activate larger areas in the brain for smaller tasks, and the flow of all those extra neurotransmitters is good for brain power. It's entirely possible. Perhaps the lefties just need to be smarter or they would be that much easier to mess with at parties. Just a right-handed thought.

Pan, tilt, zoom, keyhole, focus......

Tuesday, 10 August 2010 - Things just taste twice as good in twos. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups - taste best in twos.  They are easier to share, and cuts the guilt in half. Twix... comes in two. Kit Kats come in fours... easy to share, and twice as good again. What about stuff that is so good that you just can't get enough?  You just want more and more and more.   Does three mores make a Smore or is that just wanting s'more? What is it in your life that makes you want s'more? It's Smores Day.  Life may not really be a box of chocolates, but a mixed bag of cookies.  Sometimes hard, sometimes soft and chewy, often full of nuts, occasionally full of frosting, and even better when full of marshmallow and chocolate, the cookies are the things in life you want, or need, or don't yet know what to do with....  the bites of life.

So what "cookies" do you want more of? For me, it's a good times with the important people in my life.  I want more good times, more experiences and just more.  I want more time with family.  I want more time with friends.  I want to spend more time living in the moment, and more freedom to do just that.

What do you want less of in your life?  For me, I want less time alone.  I want to tell less lies to myself. I want to admit that the things in life I have always said I didn't want were and are exactly the things I do. I want to work out a way to have a heart-to-heart with myself about this and come to some kind of agreement. After all, how hard can it be to talk to yourself about the things you want out of life?  I guess when you have waited this long to come to grips with it, and you face the possibility that it may be too late in life, you could be creating quite an argument with yourself.  I only hope I don't have to send me to the sofa for the night when we finally get around to having that conversation.

Life is a cruel game most times.  You spend time being who you think you need to be, only to find out it is neither who you need nor want to be. You spend time convincing yourself and others around you that you made the choices you did because dammit they were the right ones. In the end you manage to convince everyone, only the truth is, you are full of Smores. You are winning in life when what you want and what you project jive.  That's when not only do you want more, but you get more.  I fear that I have left this dance too long.  Perhaps if I can find the focus button I can get this projector working with better focus. First things first, I want more cookies in that box of life.  Add good friends, graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate and a heat source, and you have more and more and more... Smores.