What Day Is It Anyway?

Whips and chains.....

2011-10-03T05:46:00.000-07:00

Monday, 3 October, 2011 - When you live in the Pacific Northwest, you come across your share of tree huggers and granola crunchers. They certainly serve a purpose. Without them, there would be a huge backlog of granola on store shelves making it near impossible to find the Fruit Loops and Captain Crunch. In Vancouver, prior to last year's Winter Olympics, the road between Vancouver and Whistler was in desperate need of an upgrade. In order to make the road safer and decrease fatalities, the road needed to be widened and many of the hard mountain road turns needed some de-turning. This did mean that some trees needed to go. Alas, the above mentioned tree huggers decided that the trees carried more importance than the lives of safety of human beings, and chained themselves to the doomed logs with leaves. This is beyond a little tree hugging and seemed to get right in to a little tree S&M. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me"1.

So what about all the trucks, SUVs and monster cars that grace our roads? I know there is the North American bigger is better mentality at work, but many of these large vehicle drivers also have a little granola crunching in them. Look around at any of the campsites and you'll see most campsites adorned with Tahoe's, Escalades, and F150's. It is doubt the woman strapped to the tree cycles to work, and as a guess, her partner was likely bringing her her granola in a vehicle. Today is Alternative Fuel Day. This isn't a preaching for the conversion of your Escalade to alternative fuel, after all, the Escalade driver offers much to the economy. Nor is this a suggestion that you hold off on buying an SUV if it makes sense because the world is going to pot. Drive your vehicles. Jack up the price of fuel, convert your vehicle, strap yourself to a tree, chew on twigs and leaves, or drag race down the I5. Everyone helps contribute to the economy, and likewise to our environment. For every little old lady who gets inappropriate with a tree, there are thousands of SUV's driving the road to Whistler a little safer. If you can do that drive and have a smaller impact on the environment, perhaps its worth considering. If the trees get cut, mulch them down to an alternate fuel.

Enslaved to the Web

2011-08-01T23:07:00.000-07:00

Monday, August 1, 2011 - Did you ever expect that you would be a slave to the Internet? Does a day go by that you are not connected to the World Wide Web in some way? Have you checked your email? Did you think about checking your email? Did you us an ATM or do any online banking? Have you gone in to see the teller in recent days? That doesn't escape the net... the tellers do your transactions online for you. Have you been out to do a little in person shopping only to ask the salesperson to check the availability of an item in a different location?

Lets face it... every day we rely on the World Wide Web in some capacity to get us through the day. Can you imagine work without connectivity? Can you really survive without the internet? My modem had an issue on the weekend. Thankfully, I have the internet on my phone and didn't panic too badly, but I did spend an hour on hold to tech support to get my modem sorted. Without my internet I don't have television, Netflix, iTunes movie rentals, radio streaming, or the Internet.

We have become slaves to the World Wide Web. Today is World Wide Web day and ultimately, we shouldn't worry about it. There is no emancipation from it... there is no one to purchase our freedom nor do we want to be free. We are getting more and more connected every year. We are getting more and more enslaved.

August 1 has a long history of releasing slaves. In 1834, slavery was abolished in the British Empire. In 1838 Non-labourer slaves were emancipated in most of the British Empire. Two years later in 1840, labourer slaves were emancipated in most of the British Empire. So how is it that today is World Wide Web day? Anyone feel a chain around their neck yet?

It's out there

2011-07-31T13:22:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 31, 2011 - Space... the final frontier... a place where no man had gone before... the usual springs to mind. Staring at the stars at the top of the mountain, and away from the light pollution of the city below, one can't help but wonder if there is other life out there somewhere. All those stars you see... some burned out, some are galaxies of their own right... and you can't be certain there isn't someone standing on the top of an elevation looking out of their galaxy at the stars above wondering the same. There they are staring at us staring at them.

So what was the curiosity that sent the Ranger 7 space probe out to take pictures of the moon? Was it really a search for water or was it a search for those lifeforms? Was it a deep seated hope to find that proverbial large headed alien with the huge black eyes that you see in all those graphic novels and at Roswell and in ancient Egyptian art? Makes you wonder why the stereotypical "alien" has an iconic look from as far back as King Tut doesn't it?

Perhaps those who have been looking up at their skies towards our galaxy have already found a way out. They managed to find themselves in our Galaxy and when they landed here on Earth, they didn't find any intelligent life forms worth exploring. We think of ourselves as evolved. Perhaps we would be no higher upon the food chain in their worlds than pigeons are in ours... hardly worth writing home about. Maybe they've come back every hundred Earth years to see if anything has changed, and in their disappointment, have left again to leave us another 100 years.

Think about it, we aren't the only carbon based life form on this planet to build homes. Wasps make pulp and build paper houses. Ants build sophisticated systems of tunnels and caves, they have jobs and a payment system. Bees build homes, go to work, play and live in communities. Bears build dens that suit their needs. They have the ability to go nearly dormant, thick fur to keep them warm, and their needs are met. We have lost our fur. We have a need for heat. Ok, we don't chew on wood and make paper for our homes, instead we rape the land and build boards and drywall for our dens. Tools no longer separate us from the rest. Chimpanzees use tools to forage for food, to make displays to attract the other sex (we use cars) and displays of aggression (we use guns).

So on todays date in 1964, when Ranger 7 beamed pictures of the moons surface back to Earth, did we think we were going to see bears and chimps?

Probably a good thing the aliens aren't in town this weekend. It's Pride Week in Vancouver, and if you think the aliens are out there... you ain't seen nothing yet! The parade will open your eyes... in amazement, amusement and puzzlement. There is a whole other world that many will rarely get to glimpse right in your own backyard. It's all about being out and proud. One should NEVER need to hide who they are or what they desire out of life. Pride Week is about being proud: Proud to be gay if your gay; Proud to be bi if your bi; Proud to be straight if your straight; Proud to be transgendered if you are transgendered; Proud to male, female, hermaphroditic.... Just proud. Our City should be proud to be so open, and our citizens should be proud of diversity. Why should only the aliens be OUT there?

Sowing the seeds of freedom

2010-11-11T00:16:00.000-08:00

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

2010-09-22T10:59:00.003-07:00

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

2010-09-21T13:21:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-18T02:21:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-17T11:39:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-16T04:05:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-09-14T09:48:00.002-07:00

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

2010-09-13T06:11:00.000-07:00

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....

2010-09-12T14:45:00.001-07:00

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.

2010-09-10T11:12:00.003-07:00

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...

2010-09-07T04:20:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-06T12:44:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-04T03:44:00.001-07:00

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

2010-09-03T21:55:00.001-07:00

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...

2010-09-02T12:55:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-01T02:58:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-31T14:49:00.001-07:00

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

2010-08-30T14:10:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-29T14:38:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-28T13:56:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-08-27T11:13:00.000-07:00

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...

2010-08-26T11:32:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2010-08-25T04:07:00.002-07:00

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

2010-08-24T03:47:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-23T03:49:00.001-07:00

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.

2010-08-22T14:07:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-13T22:31:00.000-07:00

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......

2010-08-10T03:52:00.000-07:00

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.

Curling up with technology

2010-08-09T05:33:00.000-07:00

Monday, 9 August 2010 - What is your source for news? Do you open the newspaper each day over a coffee, or during lunch? Do you listen to the morning broadcasts on radio or television while you get ready for your day, or wait until you get home for the early edition and the evening news? Do you flip on the news before going to bed? Maybe you listen to the all news radio on the way in to the office and on the commute home. Or... are you like so many of us, and have really just started reading the news as it is presented to you, embedded in to your search tool, or on the front screen of Sharepoint?

I do seek out a newspaper, but all I really read are the comics and then proceed to hunt out the crossword puzzle. My news is obtained online, and in the last few years, on my iPhone... there is an app for that. News has gone digital, immediate, and collaborative. Like never before, you can read or watch the news online, then comment along side millions of others, getting to be a part of the news without getting caught in the flashbulbs with blood on your shirt and a ball peen hammer in hand. There is often more value, or at least more entertainment in the comments than in the news article. Newspapers all over America are folding (not in the middle to fit in a newsbox), but disappearing from the news box all together. Some have decided that they will only be delivered to your inbox, and in an effort to add value (and justify a subscription fee), are tailoring the news you receive to what you have specified as important. Others provide different content to their electronic posts than they do to the paper version.

I once lived in a small town on an Island that proudly had a local paper. It printed three issues a week whether there was any news to print or not. If something happend on a Saturday, it was sure to show up in the following Wednesday's edition. There was nothing immediate about news here. By the time the photos got to the front page, they were beginning to take on a sepia tone. Even in major centres, the newspapers just can't get the news out to print as fast as they can now. I wonder if children today will have the same appreciation for the delayed news that is the newspaper?

And what of books? Remember when you waited each week for the Bookmobile to come around to your street so you could swap out the books you borrowed last week and get a whole new pile of words to enjoy? And then when you were old enough, you went to the library... the holy grail of books... where there were stacks upon stacks of fiction, non-fiction, biographies, encyclopedias, magazines and even newspapers. You would borrow books, and hopefully bring them back in time to not incur late fees. This was often the first lesson in short term payday loans one often got. Those who took this lesson to heart probably never needed the Caterpillar.

Today, books are also going the way of the newspaper. Sure they still print them, and people still buy and read them. They pass them along when they are done - often several times over. You can buy your books online. There you are, sitting at home watching yesterdays Oprah on Tivo, when the latest book club selection is discussed. It is no longer necessary to write the title down and hope you'll have that piece of paper with you when you pass by a Chapters or Barnes & Noble. Log in to Amazon, purchase it, and wait for your book to come to you. Still not fast enough? No problem. Even the book stores have figured out that readers are just as likely to read electronic books. Now if the Publishers would all get on board. What difference is it to them if I pay to download a book, read it, and pass the file along? If I pay for the paper version, I'm doing the same thing. I once registered a book with BookCrossing and that one book passed through 7 readers that I know of, and in 4 different countries. I'm guessing the electronic file is cheaper to publish as well.

Me, I have a Kindle. I have taken a great shine to the immediacy with which I can not only search for a book, but purchase it (1-click shopping), and have it delivered to my Kindle in about 48.5 seconds. I am reading the book before the end of the commercial break. If I don't have my Booklike Thingy with me, I have my iPhone which will let me pick up on the same page I left off on the Kindle or for that matter on my computer. The book I'm reading follows me. I may be a book lover, but I'm a newly converted e-book lover. Today, on Book Lover's Day, I think I'll download a new book.
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There. Downloaded. Now off to curl up with a good Booklike Thingy.

Thou shalt stick your head out the window

2010-08-08T15:03:00.001-07:00

Sunday, 8 August 2010 - When asked my religion, I am quick to say that I do believe in Dog. There is so much we can learn from Dog, and many spammails (smails?) have touted the importance of learning from Dog. These are life's commandments as written by Dog:

Thou shalt live life in the moment
Thou shalt always show your appreciation
Thou shalt be enthusiastic, even when the ride ends
Thou shalt be there to lend a paw
Thou shalt enjoy each meal with vigour, even when it's the same as yesterday
Thou shalt snooze like you mean it
Thou shalt chase the things that make you happy
Thou shalt make every attempt to keep your mate's feet warm
Thou shalt always be loyal and true
Above all, thou shalt wag more, bark less

If we could live by these rules, life would be no less complicated but would be more liveable. Some of us live more in one or two of these commandments than others. It is no different for Dog Disciples (a.k.9 pet dogs). Assistance Dogs live more in Commandment #4, #9 and a little of #8. Assistance dogs are the holy grail of Dog.

Imagine a fuzzy face that not only gets your slippers and brings you the newspaper (that is so last century), but brings you medication, picks up quarters, supports your weight when you fall, pulls your wheelchair, opens doors and carries the grocery bag, steers you around obstacles and tells you when you are approaching stairs, or lets you know the baby is crying or someone is calling your name. This is not only a Dog send for people with disabilities, vision impairments or are deaf, but the difference between normalcy and dependence. Today is it Assistance Dog Day. It isn't quite Easter, but it is something we should all appreciate. It is also a day to celebrate and praise the families that open their homes to raising a puppy that they will one day give away for a better cause, to the trainers who make certain these dogs are ready for their important role, and to the Assistance Dog users who have found a way to independence that relies on the love of a canine friend to help open doors.

Today is also Odie Day... a special day marking the birth of Garfield's pal Odie. Sundays are meant for pancakes and comics, and Odie knew that well - just ask Garfield and Jon. Living by Commandments #2, 3, 5, 7 and 9, Odie knows that a laugh, a good meal and a wag is all you need... Sundays and any other day. Happiness is all in the wag. Ultimately, your wag is in your head. Happiness happens. Happiness exists because you want it, because you live in the moment, because you show your enthusiasm and appreciation, because you chase that golden ball. Today may be Happiness Happens Day, but happiness should happen everyday. Just roll down the windows and enjoy the ride.

Speaking of which...

2010-08-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 7 August 2010 - Do you ever leave the house and for just a moment fear you've left your cell phone behind? But before you go back in to the house, you pat yourself down, checking pockets - front and back, and in my case, check both sides of your bra? This little cellular pat down... or the 'phone grope' seems a pretty common event in my world. I must grope myself half a dozen times a day. Like one of those OCD'ers who turn the lights on and off 11 times before leaving the house, and re-locking the deadbolt 8 times times to ensure it's locked, I'm getting a little obsessive about checking for my phone. My current phone isn't working all that well, and yet there I am, going for the phone grope in hopes that I haven't forgotten my life line.

I don't have a land line, and I don't carry around a day timer, a note pad, laptop or iPad. My phone contains my life. I cross the border, and verify that it picked up the new carrier as soon as I've traversed the 49th. My phone allows me to play scrabble with NYC, gives me music whenever I need a beat, acts as a GPS when I'm lost, and fills in as understudy to the Kindle when I leave my Booklike Thingy at home. I have maybe become far too attached to this tiny piece of technology, but everyone has a vice. I have a few, but no other vice has be groping myself so frequent or so openly. Sure you get the occasional stare, but as soon as you pull out your phone, those watching all nod in full understanding, and then look down in shame as they realize they too probably get caught doing the phone grope.

In front of an audience, it is important to take your phone out, put it on silent, start the stopwatch, and leave it on the podium in front of you. When public speaking, it is not the time to go searching for your phone with a little personal patting. There are better things, more professional things, you can be doing with your hands. (Make gestures for emphasis, point at illustrations on your presentation, write on the board... what did you think I meant?). For all you public speakers out there, Happy Professional Speakers Day. Without you, we would not have any need to attend conferences and would have to go to other cities for fun and frolic. Without professional speakers, we wouldn't need laser pointers... and what cat owner doesn't need a laser pointer? Without professional speakers, there would be no politics... and therefore no comedy... other than Charlie Sheen. For this, dear speaker we thank you.

Putting your foot in it

2010-08-06T22:15:00.000-07:00

Friday, 06 August 2010 - Take a road trip. What else have you got to do on a Friday morning? But if you are going to get in the car and hit the highway I would recommend sleep. On the other hand, a middle of the night escape means you can shave nearly an hour of the excursion. But there is nothing that can describe road trip breath... its a combination of coffee, coke, chocolate, and french fries. It's like a gritty lint from an old couch on the roof of your mouth and grease at the back of your throat. Trust me when I say this is not a great way to arrive. First order of business, brush your teeth, your tongue, your soft pallet, gums, and if you can, the back of your throat.

Problem most people face on a road trip is they rarely pack their toothbrush on top, in an easy to access location. Fortunately, I am always pretty aware of the location of my dentition scrubber. So the moment I can stop somewhere and get the road off my teeth, I'm all over that action. Today is Fresh Breath Day... also celebrated as Halitosis Day. Not sure, but that seems a little like saying it is Black Day... or White Day.

Halitosis does not seem something that should be celebrated, but rather stamped out - or brushed out - as the case may be. Why would you want to celebrate the buzzard breath of the guy next to you in class, or that woman on the elevator yesterday who's breath was so bad is was 'supercalifrajalisticexpehalitosis'. Legendary. This is not something you would write on a cake unless it was mint. You could send chlorophyl cookies with a card I suppose. How about a magazine subscription to Oral Hygiene Review? An anonymous Costco sized box of breath mints would work for a co-worker or the mailman. My favourite soap would make an ok breath mint for someone with a both a large and aromatic mouth.

There are so many ways to celebrate today. How about a garlic and onion pizza? Personally, I went with pepperoni, cheese, peppers and olives. Maybe I should have thought to finish this post before the day was almost over. I could have been more selective in my toppings and gone for something with some kick... and some kick back.

August is Foot Health Month. I suppose it's as good a month as any for a pedicure. I would think that when you go to put your foot in it, a healthy foot would be best. On the other hand, perhaps foot in mouth disease is a root cause of Halitosis.

Plumbers and Panties.

2010-08-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 05 August, 2010 - Eight hours of sleep each night. Eight hours at work each day. One hour or more of commuting. That means that each day you have roughly 5 hours to live your life. But that 5 hours also includes time you need to prepare breakfast, shower, dry your hair, pick out the days duds, make dinner, eat dinner, wash up, and get ready for bed. So what kind of life can you have in the remaining time? Thank god for weekends. But so many people take work home with them on the weekends as well.

Working like a dog seems to be the way of the world these days. Computers were supposed to make our lives easier, and give us the ability to work more productively. Work is much easier. It is now so much more easy to work on the weekends and at night... we need only log in. We can work on our own computers and email the files to ourselves, and answer email even while on vacation. Work is not something we leave anymore. That eight hours becomes closer to twelve. That means we really only have one hour to ourselves.

Today is Work Like a Dog Day... surprise surprise surprise. And on a Thursday no less. I'm sure more work gets done on a Thursday than any other day of the week. Monday is too hard to face, and takes too long to get geared up. Tuesday seems to bring on a lot of meetings - which are never conducive to productivity, and Wednesday is a good day for a long lunch and getting meeting notes done. Thursday is the day the real work happens. Commuter traffic is always a little busier on Thursdays, and the rush hours last longer. Maybe in celebration of Work Like a Dog Day, you should take an extra long lunch, and not bring any work home with you. In fact, it is a perfect day to work like we did 30 years ago. Go to work, punch in, do your thing, punch out, go home, find your slippers and a happy hour cocktail, read the paper and get a good night's rest.

Now if you are a plumber or electrician, I recommend working hard, but please please please wear your schnicks. You earn tradesman wages. You must have enough in the budget for a pair of gruds or two that fit. Even if your trousers fall down to the middle of your ass, you could keep that cleave covered. Celebrate Underwear Day by wearing some. For the ladies, I think today's underwear should be sexier than you might normally wear to the office. Go with something small and lacy... sexy skivvies can give you an edge if you do get called in to a meeting. Our smallclothes, our unmentionables can set the tone for your day. Nothing like a good pair of WonderWoman UnderRoos to give you an boost for the day. Tightie whities probably don't have much impact at all. A pair of leopard print silk boxers could have you walking with a wiggle.

Whatever your undergarmet choice is today, may it give you a wiggle, a giggle, and a little secret (not a dirty secret please... wash your drawers).

On a boat with no name...

2010-08-04T22:20:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 04 August 2010 - Summer time is a good time to hit the water. Whether you are on a 40 ft cruiser, a canoe, a kayak, or sporting a pair of water wings... summer is all about the water. If you work on the water, the summer is so much easier than working in winter. Gales, high seas and bitter cold are just part of the job... the part of the job that makes you appreciate summer. But not all jobs on the seas are the same.

Cruise ships don't see a whole lot of winter. Every day is summer, and when summer fades, you just rev up the engines and sail towards another summer. I can't imagine to many of us North Americans flocking to the cruise ship that takes on the North Pacific in December. Working on a cruise ship isn't that glamorous a job. Sure you are always in the geographic location of summer, but you work 16 hour days, often split shifts, and may not see the outside decks for days. The crew sleeping quarters are in the bottom of the boat, unless you are the Captain or one of the high ranking officers. In that case, your quarters are just outside the door to the bridge. Talk about a short commute. The folks that work in the laundry on board those ships really get a bum deal... and I bet they earn less than the servers. In the bowels of a boat, steaming hot, with hundreds and hundreds of sets of sheets that have everything on them from wine and burger juice to DNA... and your job is to spend 8 days a week in that bowel. Not very enchanting at all. What about the servers? They serve three meals a day, get an hour off here and there, and are forced to wear monkey suits, sing and dance at least one night a week and smile when what they really want to say is "Are you sure you need another dessert lady? Have you seen the size of your 'cruiser' ass?"

The fishermen of "The Deadliest Catch" have it even harder. They face waters that you would not believe are survivable, and they do so for weeks and months at a time to haul in the Alaskan King Crab that the servers put in front of the wide loads in the dining room on the cruise ship. But what about the personnel, retirees, reservists and volunteers of the Coast Guard? What are their jobs like? If people volunteer to do the job, it can't be all bad.

The Coastguard has been continuously operating since 1790. In peace time, the Coastguard not only patrols the waters, but takes on all kinds of missions... environmental cleanup, search and rescue, maritime law enforcement, maintaining navigation aids and homeland security. Today has been Coastguard Day... and to celebrate one should at the very least, appreciate the Coast, and the safety and freedom we take for granted. If you don't have a seashore to visit, or a lake to swim in, then do your body some good and at least drink a little water today. Eight glasses a day. It's enjoying the water in the summer.

Hey... I went to School with that guy

2010-08-03T00:39:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, 3 August 2010 - August has arrived. This puts us on the back side of the year and marching quickly to the end of the year, and no worry, Christmas will be upon us soon. But in the mean time, we can now enjoy the peak of Summer... the heat of August. On the west coast (normally the wet coast), we have had one of the driest July's in over 30 years, and what is normally very green is a fine shade of Chesapeake - ah, I mean, Dead Grass.

Everything is brown. If you want a green lawn, you are going to need to get that sprinkler out, and set the water to start in the middle of the night so you don't get fined for watering against the restrictions. I guess that as it warms up, people get thirsty and make so many ice cubes that there isn't any water left for the front lawn. August is Water Quality Month... and it's a good thing too. Imagine poor quality ice cubes? How could you be sure your Scotch is safe?

August is also Picnic Month. Though I'm sure I've been on a picnic where there was an opportunity to form other memories, what I remember the most is ants, a bee sting, looking for a bathroom, a stranger's dog that did not listen, and fear of food poisoning. On television, picnics always look like so much more fun than this. My next picnic will incorporate smuggled in wine, cheese and crackers on a bench in the underwater viewing area at the aquarium. I will watch the fishies and the whales and when the picnic is over... head out for sushi.

Aquariums are very high on my favourite places to visit list. I have been to the aquarium at every city I've visited if there is an aquarium to visit. In Seattle I brought with me a service dog who too has a thing for water and water life. When we got out to meet the seals, my dog and the seals had one heck of a conversation. I'm thankful that the aquarium was near empty of other patrons as it was near closing time. In London, there is a glass floor you can walk across... that is across the very large shark tank. If you look down, it looks as though you could very well be swimming with the fishies with the very large and numerous teeth. As cool as this is... my heart was pounding pretty hard.

Atlanta has a spectacular aquarium. The sharks are huge, and their teeth, well, are plenty big enough. Vancouver's aquarium is special to me. I hadn't been near the aquarium in several years. I returned this summer to discover a real treasure. The whales and the dolphins are amazing to watch. The underwater viewing areas are beautiful, and there is so much to see and do, that you really do need a full day and a picnic lunch. This is a picnic to which I look forward. I shall pack watermelon. After all, today is Watermelon Day an it seems appropriate. Do you think it would be in bad taste (and by bad taste I mean delicious) to pack sushi?

And your fears are?....

2010-07-30T22:41:00.001-07:00

Friday, 30 July 2010 - Fear lives in all of us. We often fear what we do not know or what we don't understand. We fear heights, open spaces, enclosed spaces, depths, deep water, spiders, bees... But fear offers a challenge that we will sometimes step up to the plate, bat in hand, and attempt to knock it out of the ball park. Unfortunately, fear can also offer complete paralysis. There are just some fears that take more than a good friend holding your hand to get you through. But what about those fears that are so deep, they seem impossible to overcome?

For some, there is no greater fear than naked public speaking. For many more, there is a fear of being in that audience. There is no doubt a direct negative correlation to those you want to see naked, and those you will. The same can be said for topless and nude beaches. On St. Maarten/St. Martin, the beaches are beautiful. Unless of course you are on the French side. On the St. Martin side, the beaches are all topless and many are clothing optional. Those who choose to exercise this option are often old, with butt cheeks that have a leathered look to them. These are obviously glutes that see a lot of the sun (and probably are burned on to the retinas of many sun seekers) and not a lot of sunscreen. As for breasts... well, they too had a hang time of which Shaq would be proud. When it comes to fears, this is something from which one should run.

What about the ordinary things? Elevators are a fear that could encompass a few other phobias; enclosed spaces, strangers, heights, body odor, cheap perfume and the naked guy on his way to the 12th floor to give that speech. Not sure how you get around all these fears. You could take the stairs if your knees can take the load. Escalators are often in a state of repair and out of service. So you could just suck it up and call the car. While you are in there, today is a great day to overcome your fear of strangers. It is Talk In an Elevator Day. Of course there is nothing there that says you have to talk to another. You could just talk to yourself. Perhaps the other people in there with you have a fear of the touched. Think of it as a public service.

Crocs and rolls.... well, buns really.

2010-07-25T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 25 July 2010 - Do you know why women's feet are so much smaller then that of a man's? So they can stand that much closer to the kitchen sink. No? Ok, the real reason is Louboutin's look that much better on a smaller foot. Even Christian couldn't make a size 12 look sexy. But what about those women with puffy wide flat feet? Could Mr. Blahnik make those feet look sexy? This could be what started the Crocs in public trend. Honestly, there are some shoes that are not actually meant to be worn in public. Even to be worn in the garden, one should ensure a high fence and lush hedging for fear someone might peek.

A friend of a friend has pink Crocs in the house as guest slippers. This is bordering on a valid use for Crocs. One, you are indoors. Two, you can almost guarantee they will still be there when the guests leave. Well, most of your guests wouldn't think to leave still wearing them. But explain to me the number of people wearing these to shop, to coffee, to dine? No matter the size of your feet, this is footwear that turns your feet in to flippers... walrus feet. Stylish.

Last week friends and I were out for dinner at an excellent restaurant in a hip part of town. The table beside us had two couples who seemed well 'healed' until you looked at what was covering their heals... there was two pairs of Crocs! Now I know it's summer, and it is the west coast (which generally means anything goes), but seriously? The food was better than that. There is a hot dog cart just down the way. Crocs are best suited for street meat. Mind you, even the street meet a few blocks over won't wear Crocs.

Now as far as hot dog carts go, Vancouver is famous for Japadog... yes, it is a culinary experience that is hard to give justice to in print. Japanese style hot dogs can include hot dogs stuffed with edamame, Kobe beef dogs, terriaki dogs, and dogs with plum sauce. This hot dog cart got so famous that it had to open a store front restaurant to try to keep up with the masses. It's been frequented by Arnie Schwarzenegger and Stephen Segal and featured on Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. It is Culinarians Day. If hot dogs are on your menu today, try something new. Experiment with your toppings. Change out your dog. Or, get creative and make a masterpiece. KD and hot dogs with ketchup doesn't count. KD and bratwurst with sauerkraut and caramelized onions... maybe. It's also Parent's Day. Perhaps that means your kids should cook for you... KD and ketchup it is!

There is a chef inside all of us. There is something very organic about putting together varied ingredients, and something deeply regenerating about creating a meal for those for whom you care. Go ahead and cook with abandon today. Get down to the basics of life... nourishment, love, sunshine and good shoes.

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
Kahlil Gibran

I'll have a large fries and therapy.

2010-07-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 24 July 2010 - The full moon is but a day away. Not only does this affect the tides, but Mother Earth's lunar body has an even greater effect on the tides of lunacy, pulling on our nutter juices. Crazy is a spectrum ranging from the touched to the totally off, and every one of us fits on that spectrum somewhere. With the full moon, we take a step to the right... or is that the left? Guaranteed someone you know will be a little more loony tomorrow. This scares me a little. Tomorrow is also my birthday. It is a big one... one of those new era birthdays that causes me ponder my mid-life crises and look at convertibles. I was already expecting to be a little crazy. The full moon ultimately means I am indeed spending my birthday in the right place. I am at home in Seattle at the Fortress of Crazytude where I shall feast on the craziness that is my family.

My boys give me brief moments of knowledge that I am not nearly as crazy as I am often accused. My boys, my ego and my superego, also provide me moments of pure joy. Those moments rarely end in jail (thanks to the critical thinking of the superego), are sometimes a little impetuous (thanks to the id - that's me), and often organized (thanks to the realistic ego). Thank god for the American girl who holds on to the bail money. Freud would be very proud... or very very afraid that it takes three of us to make one psycho. Ah, er, I mean psyche.

While we feast on craziness, we shall do so with the blessing of the Catholic Church (another source of madness). Today is the Feast of St.Christina the Astonishing, Patron Saint of insanity, mental disorders, and psychiatrists. Christina Miribilis was born in 1150 in Belgium. She suffered a massive seizure at the age of 21 and was presumed dead. During her funeral, Christina sat up to join in on the festivities. She said the smell of all the sinners in the room is what woke her. While her soul was separated from her body she claimed to visit heaven, hell and purgatory... and on her return was given a mission from God to make penance for all the souls in purgatory. So... Christina spent the rest of her life throwing herself in to horrible situations, including floating down a river to the water wheel which threw her body around like a ragdoll. She was unharmed. Seems Christina had the blessing of god and spent the rest of her life finding new and interesting ways to get off... ah.. I mean torture herself. If its self inflicted, do you need a safe word? Today is also Drive Thru Day. I KNOW you can get a drive through wedding. Can you get drive through psychoanalysis?

Caution: the beverage you are about to enjoy is hot.

2010-07-23T05:00:00.000-07:00

Friday, 23 July 2010 - Complaining is the great North American pass time. If we don't have what the neighbours have, we complain that we don't have enough. If we have a small inconvenience, we complain we are going to be late and it was someone else's fault. When it gets dark at 1700 hrs we complain that we go to work in the dark, and come home in the dark. When it gets dark at 2230hrs, we complain that we can't get to bed early cause it's too bright and the kids out the back alley are still out playing and laughing and having fun. When we are young, we complain about the old people. When we are old, we complain about the young. When we are young we complain about how LOOOOOONG a year is. When we get old, we complain about how time goes by too fast. We have dogs, but we complain that they shed too much. We get a non-shedding dog and complain about the cost of hair cuts and grooming supplies. We buy a couch in to which you can sink, then complain that it is too soft. We get a practical car that has good mileage, and then complain that there isn't room for the ski equipment, the Bernese mountain dog, and plywood. We get a truck, and complain about the cost of fuel. Hell, we buy gas guzzlers and then complain about the raping of oil from the Gulf and how greedy the oil companies are. I could go on and on and on, but we would no doubt complain about that as well.

Then there is the weather... Canadians have a particularly annoying habit (or so my American sister tells me), of avoiding any real conversations with meaningless chats about the weather. Don't worry, we can complain about that too. It seems that whenever there is an elevator to ride, and you are not alone, you can count on a Canadian starting up a bit of mindless word exchange with "Nice weather we're having eh?" or "How about all that rain?" It is quite remarkable. As I have begun to pay attention to this phenomena, I have come to see how true that is. Get in to an elevator in the States, and you will get "How about that game last night?" or "How about that Obamacare?" I don't believe Americans only talk sports and politics, but it seems slightly more interesting than the number of days of rain we've had, or how, after complaining non-stop about the cold and wet spring and early summer, we can then turn around and complain about the arrival of summer.

This year in the Pacific Northwest, the summer weather was a long time coming, and very overdue. It is now summer. The sun is gracing us with her rays of vitamin D and melanin enhancing properties. The fourth sweater can now be left off, and the heavy socks are a thing of the past... and future. It will be fall soon enough and we will be back to the cooler temperatures and increase in rainy days. It astounds me when we complained about the cold for so long, that three days in to a veritable 'heat wave' (yes, the temperatures almost hit 90 degrees), we started complaining all over again. I got in to an elevator yesterday and had someone say to me "So... is it hot enough for you?" No. No it is not hot enough for me... it's summer. It isn't even hot enough for summer. It's summer. That's why summer clothes are small. That is why pools are busy. That is why patios sell Sangria. If it isn't hot in summer, than it is merely spring.. or fall... or winter.

I'm sorry I didn't get asked that question today instead of yesterday. I won't complain about it, and it is very early in the day. Someone will ask it again today and it will be fitting. It is Hot Enough For Ya Day. If I were throwing the annual Jamaican Me Crazy Party, we could be talking about my Jerk Chicken. If it was hot tub day, we could be talking about the water. . If you were in New York or Paris and viewing the latest winter collection from Paris Hilton, it could be about the clothes ("That's Hot"). It IS National Hot Dog Day, but I don't think they are talking about the tube steak. If we were having a hot beverage and you had just burned your lip on the molten hot black sex in a cup, it could be about the coffee. But, alas, it is about the weather after all. Caution: The summer season you are about to enjoy is extremely hot.

Spooning on a hammock

2010-07-22T04:43:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 22 July 2010 - A slip of the tongue can get a girl in a lot of trouble. Tonight, while standing about on a platform with two men in blue, we got to talking about the coffee one had in his hand which was reported as being bitter and black. I replied "just the way I like it". You would think I would of caught myself... or realized what I had said. I was referring to the coffee, but as I look at the partner, well, he could be described as bitter and a little black. That might be a slip of the tongue... or it could just be my inside voice and my outside voice are on a swob jap. I mean.. a job swap. Apparently my brain cells are in a hammock somewhere.

Today is Spooner Day, also known as Spoonerisms Day. A spoonerism is one of those slips of the tongue where the start of words may get swapped around. Reverend Spooner was born in England in 1844 and was a long time lecturer at Harvard. He was famous for flipping his words. Seems Spooner wasn't dumb, or even lazy... seems his tongue just couldn't keep up with his tongue. So when I'm looking for a good sparking pot, it's not about marijuana, and it isn't about finding a place for the car... it's because my tongue is not able to keep up to my brain. I'm thood with gat.

Maybe it has nothing to do with keeping up to my brain. Maybe it is more about my brain cells on vacation. I'm seriously beginning to think that the older I get, the more brain cells that take time off. I worked them very hard for a very long time and they have earned 8 weeks of paid vacation annually. If so, in any given time, up to a full sixth of my brain is in a hammock somewhere between two trees. I can only hope that when they get back from that vacation they come back ready to fire thoughts around in my head again. Thoughts can be elusive, and the more I work, and the less I need them, they seem to vaporize. I think that when you work too much and play too little, thinking actually becomes difficult... near impossible even. And yet, all you end up with is brain cells on vacation, but the body is still punching a clock (clunching a pock?).

So lately, I've been thinking about the number of days I have worked, and the number of days I've vacated. The ratio is not good. Indeed it is appalling. So much for not working more than needed, and working on the rest of my life. I am hugely unsuccessful in having a 'rest of my life' so I work, which makes it hard to have a 'rest of my life'. Sense something a bit circular? I sure do. I just don't know how to get off the merry-go-round. I have to find a way to get the rest of my life in to a hammock. Today is surely the day to do it. Today is Hammock Day. String up some string between a couple of trees and swing. I will likely not spend today in that hammock, but I will spend today sorting out how I will spend the next 8 days away from work. Perhaps if I take my body away from the punch clock, I could get some of my brain cells back in the game. This is valuable advice for all of us. Seriously... take some time to hang around and breathe. This is good advice. I hope I will take it. Kugs and Hisses.... Me.

18 years and 18 shots of golf

2010-07-21T03:15:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, 21 July 2010 – Do you remember your first drink? How about your first drink of tequila? When you first sipped the amber liquid from the Scots, did you immediately swoon, or swallow hard and breathe deep? As a Scot, I’m fairly certain that my first drink came before I could form lasting memories. A little scotch and warm milk could soothe anyone in to a restful sleep. Teething? A little scotch rubbed on your gums made the ache go away… or the care. Either way, it worked.

As I got a little older, my grandma and I would always have a spot a tea after shopping and running errands. On Sundays, we would opt for a wee sherry instead. Harvey’s Bristol Cream was the sherry of choice. To this day, I like a spotta or a wee sherry after a day of running errands. To the Scots, alcohol wasn’t only part of the cultural blanket, but was medicinal… therapeutic… a cure for whatever ails ya.

Then, when I was about 12, I discovered I had a sweet spot for tequila. Turns out that tequila is pretty good mixed with grape Kool-Aid. Perhaps because there was never a huge taboo around alcohol when I grew up, that a glass of beer with pizza on an occasional Friday night was pretty good, or that a glass of wine with dinner was part of the meal, I never really hit the legal drinking age green… or stupid about the effects of alcohol. While friends were getting their stomachs pumped after the party (well, after they left the party), I was still at the party, relatively sober. I worked in a bar and saw enough of the crowds bad behavior to think that it would ever look sexy to get that polluted. The legal drinking age draws a line in the sand, but it doesn’t tell you what side of that sandbox hold the smarter kids.

What makes people in Canada more able to handle alcohol at an earlier age? In Canada, the drinking age is 19… or 18… or 19… or 18… or 19… really depending on what province or territory in which you live. In the US, it is 21. That is 21 no matter the state, or your maturity. Are Canadians that much more mature? Or, is the bottle of beer so much more engrained in our lives that really, by the time you are 18 or 19, you’ve already been drinking regularly anyway, they might as well tax you. Or… is it just that at 18 or 19 you should be taxed just because?

Today is Legal Drinking Age Day. It was in July 1984 that President Ronald Reagan signed a bill setting the legal drinking age at 21 throughout the entire country. I guess Rotten Ronnie wasn’t able to handle his liquor prior to 21 and decided that this made the most sense. The liquor taxes are so much smaller in the US compared to Canada that there probably wasn’t as big a financial incentive to lower the age. In Canada, folks between the ages of 18-21 probably single handedly pay for the interest on our debt just in beer tax. We are a socialist country no? Or are we just more social?

I got an email joke from a friend one day last week that listed a handful of words that are hard to say after a few drinks. They ranged from words like ‘proliferation’ and ‘preliminary’ to ‘anti-constitutionalistically’ and ‘transubstantiate’, to the near impossible ‘sorry, you are not my type’ and ‘no thanks, I’m not hungry’. What is it about alcohol and snacks that go hand in hand? Is it because the only time 7-11 could possibly sell the mystery meat sandwiches and tube steaks of questionable "tube" is when you are just too drunk to ask? There are the Gaines Burgers and the Gaines Burgers with Cheese at the In and Out, and Jack in the Box stays open late because they only start selling when the bars are letting out. Then there is the chips, chocolate, and Chef Boy R Dee at the local corner store. Do you ever wonder why the corner store carries on that canned pasta? It isn’t because people do their weekly shop, it is for us drunks at 3:00 am that decide they could really go for a can of ravioli. Fortunately, today is also Junk Food Day. Go ahead. Eat all the crap your stomach can take. Then when you are throwing up in the morning you can play the universal guessing game called “What the hell did I eat last night?” That game doesn’t have a set age… and, like golf (a sport with 18 holes because there was 18 shots of whiskey in a bottle), it was probably invented by the Scots. Bottoms up!

Horrorscopes and New Moons

2010-07-20T02:53:00.002-07:00

Tuesday, 20 July 2010 – My horoscope says that today I am concerned about “connections and communications of all kinds… writing, thoughts, letters, emails, phone calls and the mental process in general, and that close personal ties are a focal point for my feelings.” ^1. I can see how this applies in my life, after all I’m about to have another birthday, where I get to get older and yet don’t get any smarter, or wiser, or more mature. I have spent the better part of the last month in a funk about the connections and communications in my life, and what does it all mean as I continue to get older as a single girl in the big city. I really am NOT getting any wiser. I am definitely NOT more mature, and I am certainly NOT smarter than I was this time last year or even last decade. Another horoscope’er says that “A new opportunity could come (my) way today. It might seem like a dream come true… check the facts carefully to make sure it’s as good as it seems.” ² Wahoo…. Today I will be offered the job of Towel Girl for the Seattle Seahawks… and the keeper of the muscle rub.

These horoscopes are a funny thing. They are often just vague enough that they can apply to anyone. Take for example the first horoscope. Are we not all concerned about communication? You check the mail to find that letter you were waiting for still isn’t there and you are concerned about it. The horoscope would fit. You have been waiting for a phone call all afternoon. You are concerned about a communication. You have a spat with a friend, and you hope to spend some time talking it out, but you spend the afternoon worried about the argument. Again, your relationship is the focal point of your feelings.

I am certain that there is at least one thing in this horoscope that applies to every one of us in some way today. If you are single, you are concerned about your lack of relationship. If you are not single, you will at some point today be concerned about your relationship (I wonder how much trouble I’ll be in if I don’t get home straight after work?). The other horoscope basically says ‘caution… an offer could be too good to be true… do your research’. This really fits everyone. If an offer seems too good to be true, it just might be too good to be true. That position I just got offered? Its for the Old Timers game… former NFL’ers who are all past 60, with replaced knees and hips, a lot of extra pounds and I’m the one with the muscle rub.

A Leo is a sun sign and my element is fire. Apparently that makes me fiery, self-assured and drawn to the heat. Ok, I would buy the drawn to the heat part of the equation. I have winter sweaters and summer sweaters. The only real difference in the collections is the colour. I am not a moon sign, and yet, I’m a night-owl who would be just as happy under the moonlight. But I’m pretty sure I can make the characteristics of the moon signs fit who I am with just as much success. Also, it’s probably a pretty safe bet that the moon sign’s horoscope is just as good a fit as the rest.

Today is Moon Day. It was on today’s date that astronauts first went for a stroll on the surface of the moon. I wonder what the horoscopes said on that day? How about this one: There is great opportunity to explore somewhere you have never explored before. You will see things from a new perspective if you spend time contemplating the larger picture around you??? Not bad huh? I could write these horoscopes. Just need a few vague’alities and a few general’alities spiced up with a little wishful thinking’alities.

Did I mention my horoscope also says I’m looking for a little romance this evening? Well no shit. There’s something else that applies to us all!

1.Leo horoscope on DailyHoroscopes.com for July 20 dailyhoroscopes.com
2 Horoscope.com version of the Leo horoscope for July 20 .http://my.horoscope.com/

Don't flitch, it'll happen to you too

2010-07-19T04:55:00.000-07:00

Monday, 19 July 2010 - Here's a mouthful... mid-life crisis. For men, a mid-life crisis is usually cured with a hot car, a bottle of "Just for Men", and a divorce. It's become such a reality, that it's almost cliche... You can bet your last dollar that every guy will go through this somewhere between 40 and 49. Guaranteed, bookies wouldn't touch that bet with a ten foot pole.

Research says that men go through a midlife crises out of fear. Fear that they are losing their health (they aren't as able to clime Mt. Hood as fast), their attractiveness (the magnet isn't so powerful anymore), fear of aging, fear of not reaching their goals, and fear of dying. Seems about right. Fear of losing health can result in joining the hockey team, a football team, collecting sports gear, taking up running, learning the intricacies of beach volleyball (for the sport... seriously), and trade up their golf clubs. As a result, and as part of aging, this brings on pulled groins and hernias, pain, strain, limps, bruised egos, and a larger than normal bar bill.

The fear of becoming less sexually attractive is good for the economy. Sports car and motorcycle showrooms lick their lips when they see the solo 40-something male walk through the door. They can smell the manopause for miles. Sex on wheels, 0 down, APR. The barber's business drops off a little, and the high priced hottie at the specialty spa salon is suddenly booked solid, and half her clients are men. A rising market is men's cosmetic surgery - did I say rising? Yes, there is even an increase in the number of male enhancement procedures, to say nothing of the happy pill market. Divorce lawyers rake it in, and insurance agents get a bigger commission as the life insurance gets bumped up before the skydiving weekend in Honolulu. The midlife male is actually very good for the economy. We shouldn't discourage this rite of passage. We should market the hell out of it. Manopause could really help with the downturn.

But what about women? Is her midlife crisis as predictable? Do women suddenly want a hot car, a 20 year old boy toy, and their college years back? Typically, a midlife crises for women comes after her children are grown or gone off to Uni. Suddenly, she has the time to do the things she always wanted to do, is financially more stable, and her hormones are hooped. Menopause (there's a word that makes a tonne of sense), brings on a physical line in the sand that causes the psychological crisis. Have I lived my life the way I wanted to? Should I have done something different? Is it time to change my life?

Sadly, we just don't market the woman's midlife crisis as effectively. It gets wrapped up as an often negatively viewed 'MENopause', and instead of marketing hot sports cars, we market yam creams and hormone replacement therapies. I'm guessing that you could really get more bang for the economy's buck by a new approach. I'm pretty sure the best cure for feeling bloated is a wild diving trip to the Galapago's. Hot flashes... best managed with a hot convertible Porche. Sagging boobs... new boobs... but not just any boobs, the way too perky D's that scream sexpot... and for every woman between 40 - 49, all boobs come with a little lipo and neck laser. You can jack the price of the puppies up, just value add. Sports equipment is easy to sell if you make it pretty. Hell, we'll spend anything for the latest pink 3 wood, or flowery snowboards. We don't flinch at the way too expensive ski jacket... if it's cute and makes us look hot. With the hot flashes, we sure don't need too much padding in that jacket. We'll even pay for the 20 year old boy toy... take him to Chucky Cheese, EB Games, Bermuda. The travel industry is missing an entire market... never mind kids, why not "hot young playthings fly free"? There are websites out there that have figured out this market. There are websites for affairs, little something on the side sites...

What doesn't seem possible during this part of the human condition, is fidelity and harmony. How can you when you are so desperate to recapture something that is as elusive as youth, vitality, singledom? Today is Flitch Day. The idea was that the monks would give a flitch of bacon to any couple who could prove to a jury of their peers that they had lived together faithfully for the entire year. Seems even then the midlife crisis was alive and well and living in the 15th Century as not too many flitches of bacon were ever given out. There may not have been any Lotus dealers, but I bet there was some pretty spectacular headdresses and super shiny armour with a capeline you could open... a convertible helmet if you will.

If you haven't hit your midlife crisis yet, don't worry you will. While you wait for it to hit you, celebrate Hug Your Kid Day. They'll move out soon enough, and you can trade in the minivan on something a little sexier.

I scream... you scream....

2010-07-18T13:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 18 July 2010 - It's summer. It's that time of year when fruit tastes better, water is more refreshing, and fresh washed sheets are more crisp. Logically, the third Sunday of July is Ice Cream Day. When does ice cream taste better than on a hot summer day? Is there a sweeter music than the twangy bell ringing sounds of the Ice Cream Truck's version of Claire de Lune? I'm sure Debussy's remains are rattling with pride (ok, maybe horror) at his moonlight movement becoming synonymous with dirt riddled kids everywhere running home for money for frozen milk on a stick.

What ever became of the Dickie Dee? Remember this guy? He was a borderline or in-training pedophile, with a modified bicycle/portable freezer, and if you wanted an ice cream you had to bend over and practically fall in to a cold pit to pick one. He rarely helped, but often watched with great amusement (from behind). There wasn't a tinny rendition of Debussy there... just the annoying ring of bells on a bar. There used to be this ice cream that was literally iced vanilla milk on a stick. I can't completely describe it's taste, but it was on a stick, wrapped in a white paper with red and black writing. We would never have such a thing today - it wasn't sealed with military grade wrapper, nor would it be fancy enough to sell. They were delicious, but they are no more. Now in order to sell as an ice cream (at $4 a piece), you need exotic nuts, dipped in chocolate, with pieces of chocolate bar, gold leaf, fudge, peanut butter, and a hint of cappuccino. At McDonalds, you can't get much more than a basic cone unless you want an Aero (chocolate or mint) swirl ice milk blended with mint sauce and chocolate sauce and Skor candy bar pieces and bits of French fry croûton on top.

Ben and Jerry's? There's another gone over the top ice cream selection. With flavors like Chubby Hubby, Cake Batter, Mission to Marzipan, Fossil Fuel (made in the Gulf?), Phish Food, Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream.... What the hell are these? Which one is Ice Cream and not a combination of crap you wouldn't want to eat unfrozen?

To celebrate Ice Cream Day... I recommend trying to find yourself just some plain old ordinary Ice Cream. It's like a treasure hunt. I wish you luck, and ask that if you find success, please pass on the secret location of the Ice Cream. If you find a Dickie Dee, I ask that you pass on this location to the local authorities.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for plain ice cream.

Pimps and regrets

2010-07-17T04:37:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 17 July 2010 - Do you have anything in your past you really truly regret? Are those moments in your life the moments that define who you are or do the regrets define who you are not? This was recently posed to me in as part of a quote of the day (thank you friend) in relation to the mistakes we make in our lives. Mistakes define who we are not. But as for regrets, do you regret what you did, or do you regret the outcome? Was the fallout just a little more than you had intended but the act itself was still alright? There are people who live lives full of regrets so it would seem then that regrets are what define. But to me, regrets are positive. Regrets mean that at least you did something. There are many who are paralyzed to act for the fear of regrets. Imagine if you life was full of should have's and could have's... which can also lead to a life of regret.

There are many things in life that we could have done. There are probably many more that maybe we should have done, but didn't. At least looking back on your life, you can say you know what the results of inaction have been. Would you do the things you didn't if you got a second go at it all? History tends to repeat itself so you likely wouldn't be in any different a place in your life than you are at this moment, and still we look back on our lives with a list of should have's and could have's that would give Mr. Clause a run for his money.

Yes, we could have moved to Hawaii and been a professional surfer... or professional bum. We could have finished the theology degree and become a priest... or pedophile. We could have wrote the greatest American novel, sold the movie rights, and lived a life of luxury... or spend every second or third month in rehab. We could have finished that degree in Existential Philosophy... or do and be nothing. We should have put others first, but we spend time on number one. We should have spent more time with loved ones, but we love them regardless. We should have been more open with the people around us, but we show vulnerability to those that matter. We should have finished that book, but we read so many other interesting comics. We should have made a more deliberate difference in someones life, but we make a difference in small ways every day. We can spend our lives worrying about them, or we can pick up where we are and get on with life. Today is a good day to start, as it is Toss Away the Should Haves and Could Haves Day.

There is a blog I came across called My Big Regret. I stumbled across this 'regret':

What kind of life might I have had? Maybe I would have gotten married. Maybe I would have had kids. Maybe I could have received my PhD. Maybe I could have traveled. The entire trajectory of my life has been shaped by a disease I have no control over. It has changed me into a person I don't want to be. - 40/F ¹

This made me sad. Maybe, could have, should have... My best girlfriend, my sister, has MS. Despite the challenges that this disease puts on her life, she married - walked down the aisle with the aid of her trusted service dog. She had children with the aid of excellent medical care. She has a good friends, good family (myself included), she has a life to be proud of in spite of the challenges. Sure she should have lived disease free - but she doesn't. I'm sure she could have lived with regret and remorse - but she lives, and I am so very proud of her and proud to call her sister.

My sister travels, goes to yoga and movies, shops, picks up groceries, loves her children, plays and reads, keeps the family organized, tries new treatments... takes charge of her independence. That power wheelchair she cruises around in certainly helps. July is Wheelchair Beautification Month. Xzibit... Pimp this ride!!

1. Regret found on My Big Regret blog.

Dogs and balls

2010-07-16T02:42:00.000-07:00

Friday, 16 July, 2010 - The modern world has us struggling to keep too many balls in the air when all we want to do is try to keep one or two priorities from hitting the ground or going tits up. Selecting the balls we need to keep in the air isn't always an easy choice. Do we focus on the things that might keep our personal lives on track, or do we choose the things that might keep our careers on the right path? I am trying to find a way to keep all those ball in the air. The problem is... I neither know how to juggle, nor have been able to learn. I started with two balls (that sounds wrong) and alas, they hit the floor. I tried the three ball (polyorchid?) juggle... and the results were even more disastrous. In trying to juggle three priorities, everything hit the dirt. Does that mean I am ultimately monorchid? It is Juggler's Day which is just not something I think I can participate in with any real effort.

Alas, in keeping my one ball in the air, I had dinner last night with a former colleague and mentor, and the new colleagues that surround him. It was a seaside United Nations, represented by the east, west, north and alas, Europe. There is something very grounding about spending time with those who have challenged you in the past, and comfort in being challenged by someone familiar that can force you to look at the future. There is an internal juggling that takes place in these moments: There is a desire to recapture the past, and excitement in trying to catch hold a new future. Do you stay with what you know, and continue to do what you do, or do you apply what you know and do what you have not yet done? Which ball should you keep in the air?

Do you focus on the personal life ball? It's the warm and slightly fuzzy pastel coloured ball that may or may not have been recently 'groomed'. Do you focus on the professional life ball? That's the green ball that pays you for the grooming. Or do you focus on the inner self ball? That ball is a little more elusive, often grey in colour, and very opaque. Everyone has this 'inner self ball.... it's just a matter of shades of grey and degrees of tinting. Some of us are driving pimpmobiles with black windows and a rocking stereo system. Others are driving minivans or hatchbacks. No matter what your ride, the ride in life is a series of ups and downs. if you haven't yet learned to juggle, today is the day to play with your balls and get your life in order.

If your balls aren't enough to keep you busy today, you could enjoy a good old fashion tube steak. Take in a ball game or hit the local Street Meat cart and order yourself up a hot dog. It is Hot Dog Night. I'm thinking there are only two ways to take in the celebrations on this one... with or without onions. Woof.

Customers always right.... a right nutter.

2010-07-15T04:31:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 15 July 2010 - You head in to your local Starbucks (I know... there is a topic I know NOTHING about), you step up to the till, and viola... they know your beverage, right down to the 3/4 full instruction. This is service. It is all about knowing your customer, and knowing what their beverage of choice might not be that big a deal but it is a little something with a big payoff. Not only do you get your caffeine headache cured quicker, but you'll likely come back again, thus increasing your caffeine intake, and ultimately, creating a larger headache earlier tomorrow. It is the ultimate marketing play. What's better than a dime defense? You got it... a coffee offense... no matter how many dimes it might cost.

In some industry's getting to know your customer is a good thing. Coffee shops? Check. Restaurants? Check * and cheque please* Hookers? Check *and STD check please*. Pro Shop? Check. Dress shop? Check. Shoe store? Check and Check. Public transit? Oh dear god no. (Well, maybe that hot lawyer who commutes from Aberdeen... you know who you are.) Yes, there are all kinds of folks on the public transit system you may just not want to get to know. They guy with the Pitt Bull Terrier and the dreads... not so much. The nipple tweaker (his own), gotta go with no on that one too. The flower picker (not his own), ya no. There is Kung Fu Panda, and Kung Fu Kodiak. They are entertaining enough, but just not someone you want to invite around your good china or the crystal. So Get to Know Your Customers Day should maybe not be celebrated universally. Maybe today there are a few professions that should refrain from ordering cake... police, methadone clinic workers, sooth sayers, gong farmer, body snatcher (well, depending on your personal 'bent'), chicken sexer (again, depending on your thang), psychiatrist. Regardless of your industry, if you do want to get to know your customers, today is a great day to make that commitment. if you are a psychiatrist, I don't think it's the same thing to have your customers committed.

It is now the middle of July, and that puts on a very fast downhill slope from the peak of summer to the valleys of winter.It won't be long before we switch from complaining about the heat, to whining about the cold and the rain. I'm not sure what it is about us that we seem to always have a complaint about what Mother Nature sends our way. As her customer, I would just like to say... I will NEVER complain about the heat. If you were really willing to get to know me, Dear Mom Nature, you would know that what I really want is another 40 days of pure, unadulterated, unclouded heat! In order to fulfill that order, I would need today to be a fabulous summer day. Legend has it that whatever the weather is like on St. Swithin's Day, the weather will continue to be the same for the next 40 days. As the saying goes:

St. Swithin's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St. Swithin's day if thou be fair
For forty days 'twill rain nae mair.¹

There doesn't seem to be any meteorological proof this holds up, but hey... if the weather is good today, I'll be hoping it will. If it isn't, I can only hope that the English again got their lumps in there arse.

1. Info on St. Swithin's Day found at http://www.woodlands-junior.kent.sch.uk/customs/stswithun.html

Please do not touch the seats

2010-07-14T04:09:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, 14 July 2010 - God love the Kiwi's...and I'm not talking about the fuzzy fruits (although that may indeed be what I'm talking about). The folks from New Zealand have brought the world many great things... The moa, the kiwi bird, the tattoo, and the All Blacks. Okay, the tattoo might have older roots than this, but the Maori sport tattoos better than any other. The All Blacks too sport tattoos nicely.

But New Zealand brought us something else that we celebrate today. Today is World Nude Day... well at least the day it is celebrated here in North America. In the birth place of the birthday suit day... they celebrate it in February (New Zealand spring is a warmer option than the current winter). If you are going to hang out with a bunch of Kiwi's (New Zealanders), maybe the All Blacks, why not hang out with them with their kiwis (fuzzy fruits) hanging out (I'm still not talking about the fuzzy fruit).

So what would one do to celebrate such a milestone day? I checked out the World Nude Day website, to find a contest to rate celebration videos. Seems celebrators play tennis, do a bit of gymnastics, sing and dance, and for the Canadian entries... do back flips in to snow banks and water ski. Yes, there are just some sports (and some songs) that are hard to watch with the participants naked. I guess there is something freeing about your girls and your boy out bouncing around like tennis balls. There is probably something even a little more entertaining about a song and dance sans clothes... after all the songs were sans talent. The talent on the other hand seemed to be well-equipped.

In some cities, World Nude Day will be celebrated with a nude bike ride, a nude run, a day at the beach... This past weekend, there was an attempt to break a Guinness World Record for a world wide nude swim. People stripped down, headed to a local beach and tried to be counted.. Of course the local contingent was at the nude beach (no problems) and a not nude beach (problems). Imagine being the officers that have to show up and break up that beach barbeque... "I'm sorry folks, but you are going to have to put your fire out... we are in a high fire alert area. Oh, and I'm going to need to see some ID". Where would you keep your ID? What "pocket" would suit best? Do you carry a Prada bag with you? Guess there wasn't too many arrests, and certainly not for concealed drugs or weapons. Not much concealed there. (Of course if there isn't a high level of grooming... anything is possible).

Personally, I will celebrate briefly while I shower. I will leave the bigger celebrations, the pandemonium of the clothesless, to others. I hope that the celebration stays off the public transit system. Its bad enough trying not to touch the handrails and the grab bars. How would you deal with the seats... and the bareness of the bottoms that utilize them? That would be an entirely new level of chaos... though well suited (ha!) for Pandemonium Day.

To the fools go the spoils

2010-07-13T12:46:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 13 July 2010 - Paradise is subjective. For some, that might be a few moments with a quiet coffee while your two little ones take a simultaneous nap. For others it might be a secluded tropical beach, a cabana, a cabana boy, and wee umbrellas in the drinks. For me, it might be as simple as finding a few days to golf, read, and get a little sunshine. Actually, I'll take any kind of warm. My paradise does not include cool winds, or even air conditioning. I love the heat. But Paradise, by definition, should be elusive. It should be a state of being that is sought but rarely caught; a state for which we strive by living our lives with as little negative impact on those around us as possible. I wonder whether all those virgins are really necessary?

Maybe if we had all those virgins to offer the heads of BP we could have caused less damage to Paradise. Perhaps Paradise for them is to now find a way to cap the flow of oil and clean up their shit. It seems as though the company's Paradise was a spot a few miles out in the Gulf where they could suck up the earth's spoils while spoiling the earth, the wildlife, and the livelihoods of the Gulf's residents. The Gulf, once a paradise, is now a greasy mess of dead and dying, tar balls and tears. I don't know how to handle the images of the oil soaked. It brings me to tears each and every time. The fools at BP have not quite paved paradise, but I'm sure they have kept their paychecks coming and the parking lots full of luxury gas guzzlers.

Today is Fools Paradise Day. Personally, I would prefer if BP hadn't lubricated the Gulf, but maybe that is just a fool's wish. I drive a car. I buy fuel. I can't imagine life without a car. To that end, I am one week in to a personal experiment. I am without a car for 3 weeks. It is a chance to find out just how easy it is to live without a car. I work for a public transit system, and I nod in appreciation to the many professionals who use the system to commute. I am amazed at the number of people who make this earth conscious decision on a daily basis. I will likely only manage to eke out 3 weeks without a car, as I can see the limitations (especially with my 75 pound furry pal that is missing out on valuable beach time), but I can also see that this is a viable, and responsible option for commuting. Maybe if we could all do the same, we would limit the number of oil companies seeing paradise as an oil rich well, miles below the oceans surface in eco-sensitive areas.

Imagine going to work for BP right now. Your company has a low public opinion, is responsible for possibly decades of clean up needs, and has killed off wildlife as though it was sport. That might make it a little hard to get up every morning or admit to anyone you work for BP. Employees died in the original platform accident, so that can't make it easy to go to work. I bet there are a few disgruntled people clocking in currently. Today is not their day. It is also Gruntled Employees Day... a day for those who don't have any difficulty getting up for work each day, and who actually seem to enjoy their work. Are you Gruntled?

One eye looking at you...

2010-07-12T05:33:00.000-07:00

Monday, 12 July 2010 - Your eyes are a window in to your soul. They too are the windows through which we see the world ourselves. Imagine then if those windows get cracked or broken? If you have to look at life through cracked windows are you still seeing things the way others see them? Do you really see the world around you the way others see? When one person sees blue... is 'blue' the label put to the colour they see and is your version of 'blue' exactly the same?

There isn't any real proof that even the colours we see are the same. So in effect, not only are your eyes your windows to the world, but they are unique to you. Two people see the same movie and one see's a romantic comedy, the other sees a social commentary on artificial insemination. The same two people read a book. One finds the book trite and weak, the other finds great solace in the message. Our eyes are but windows through which we gather information. Our minds are what extrapolate that information and turn it in to our beliefs, our experiences.. our memories.

So what if you have heterochromia (two eyes of different colours)? Do your 'windows' allow you to see both sides? Do you have one window tinted and would that taint/tint your version of the world? Today is Different Coloured Eyes Day. Perhaps it is intended to be a day of appreciating the differences in eye colour, or to appreciate those who have two eyes of different colours. I would suggest that it could be more effective if we were to spend the day appreciating not the difference in the colours, but rather the differences in perception. Each of us has a unique view of the world in which we live.

It isn't uncommon for the world one lives in to go through changes that aren't readily perceivable by others. Your world can change quite drastically merely by adjusting how you process the information that comes in through your eyes. What your eyes see looking out doesn't change, but what others may see looking in might. To truly celebrate Different Coloured Eyes Day, spend time looking in to the eyes of those around you. Don't just register their colour. Go deeper than that... attempt to see the world they way they see the world. It may create for you a deeper understanding of the people you see every day, but never really see.

Cheer up the censored

2010-07-11T04:06:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 11 July 2010 - What the beep? It's Sunday already? How the beep did that happen? Wasn't it just Friday a few hours ago? Well, beep, isn't that just the beep? Another weekend, come and gone and beep if I didn't get a beep thing done. I would have taken pictures but the beep black bars are beep to look at.

It's hard to believe that censorship has it's place in the world today. If you were really going to attempt to censor, you would have to censor the conversation at the next table during coffee - and probably your own. You would need to censor the commercials, the football announcers, the cheer leaders, the billboards, the radio, the magazine rack, the galleries, the bus stop ads and pretty much every conversation on the trains (in rush hour and out). The less we censor however, the less we get bothered by the things that once upon a time would have sent congress in to a tizzy and Auntie Mabel to a myocardial infarction. Censorship is a slippery slope we have been trying to scale for decades. Every now and again we make a misstep and slide down the slope a little. Fortunately, we keep getting back up and make up a little bit of ground. But we are still far from the top of that pile of full out, non-beeped fucking bull shit. Oooh... a swear.

In Canada, censorship of books coming in to the country relies on a book falling in to one of four categories (hate literature, treason, obscenity and sedition) and then relies next on the customs officers determination of artistic merit and/or educational value. I want to know how you get that position? In order to do that job effectively, I would assume you can have no religious values, no prejudices, no political affiliation, no attachments to people of the same or opposite sex and do not identify as either male or female, gay, straight, bi or trans-gendered. And what about when the line blurs or moves a little more toward freedom of thought and speech? This line has been continually moving for decades... centuries. As recent as 1962 "Lady Chatterley's Lover" was considered pornographic and banned from entering Canada. You would think that the graphic comic book version would be a more likely target. Is there a graphic novel version? I could maybe force myself to sit down with Lady Chatterley if it had pictures... and video??

Today is Censorship Day or Bowdler's Day. Thomas Bowdler was an English doctor who re-published works by Shakespeare to be more appropriate for women and children. Imagine taking out all the good Elizabethan sex scenes out of Hamlet? Why else would you go see the story of the black Prince of Denmark? (Perhaps that is just the version in my mind... Help!!! I need a censor.) Thom also re-wrote the "Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire" to take all the juicy bits out. The Gladiators were no longer happy Romans.

The act of censoring literature, and subsequently television and motion pictures, became known as Bowdlerizing - or to Bowdlerize. Mr. Bowdler (Senior Censorship??) was born on todays date in 1754. I'm sure if it hadn't been Thom, we would have found another to do the same job. How about Orel Roberts or one of our many high and mighty beeping Popes?

Today, books and magazines are being stopped at the border, so our libraries and books stores are being Bowdlerized, all because the violate somebody's sense of appropriateness. You would have to question the validity of such governmental effort. In today's Internet world, why bother? If you can't get the book at the corner shop, you can always log in and grab the content for yourself. The Internet would have been the bane of Thomas's existence. Go ahead and try to censor this medium. Shit, this blog could be edited. I said a bad word and often suggest it's good to fantasize about 'Hamlet'.

Besides, without the Internet, and porn, and controversial content, how would the lonely people stay connected (or disconnected) with the world? An evening spent with the keyboard could really cheer up some. Today is also Cheer up the Lonely Day. It is likely the Internet is not what is intended by cheering, but let's be honest... who of us doesn't turn to the Internet when we're alone or looking to fill a void from time to time? Hell, maybe this blog fills a void. If that helps cheer up someone feeling alone... then it's worth it. It has been known to fill a void for the writer. Cheers!

Ode to a cup of coffee

2010-07-10T04:40:00.001-07:00

Saturday, 10 July 2010 - There is a poet inside all of us. This is not what i would consider a thought provoking opening, or for that matter a real meaty start to a posting. It is just so. Don't you know. The truth ignites, And turns on the lights. Ok, ok, that wasn't so good, but what can you expect from me at 0425hrs, a bottle of wine, and a day in the scorching heat? I could have started with "There once was a girl from Nantucket". Seriously, I thought I did ok with that one.

Today is Clerihew Day, names so in honour of the birthday of Edmund Clerihew Bentley. Eddie Bentley did not invent the British luxury car, nor is he the founder of Bentley College in Boston. Eddie was a writer, who, in addition to a few detective novels, invented or rather made popular a four line rhyming poem - often biographical in nature. This short but sweet wee poem became known as a Clerihew. There are several more famous Clerihews out there, but here is mine...

There was a girl from Thunder Bay
Who moved to get away
She now lives on the west coast
She blogs and posts.

So, I haven't fully followed the 'script' as it were. A Clerihew almost always uses just the person's name as the first line, and is in the format of AABB. I got the alphabet part right. It's a start. I could have been Dr. Seuss, but that role was already taken, and my long drawn out, badly rhymed tales of a coati and his rag-tag pack of pals didn't really have a children's audience. Besides, all I could rhyme with Coati was Payote and I'm certain that would put me closer to the Alice in Wonderland stories. The pack of pals are from Colombia, Peru, Belize, and New Mexico. Kind of like Alice in Central America really.

There was likely a real purpose to these four line poems. Edmund Bentley published a book called Biography for Beginners. Imagine getting through 11th grade history and merely having four lines about all the great figures in history? I may have actually stayed awake and remembered who Cantor was and what he was famous for. (I did have to look that one up... he's the infinity guy from math class). Four line chapters would have been brilliant... and would have got me out to the picnic tables so much sooner. Why was History always scheduled before lunch? Never first period - so you couldn't sleep through it 3 days a week, and it was never last period so you could skip out early. No... it was second period and it took the full 75 minutes.

Today is also Hop a Park Day. It is kind of like a hop on hop off tourist bus. You are supposed to spend the day hopping in to one park to enjoy it's spoils, and then move on to another park for whatever it has to offer. I live on the west coast (as my Clerihew says), and as such, could spend the remainder of July hopping parks. There are hundreds of parks in my immediate area, and each has something wonderful to offer. However, as a real city slicker, I get my fill of 'green' on the golf course.

That girl from TBay who moved to the coast
Loves her coffee the most
Log it, burn it, pave it she quotes
Build a Starbucks to tote.

In the dog house again..... yippee!!

2010-07-09T04:10:00.000-07:00

Friday, 9 July 2010 - So there you are, hanging out on the front lawn, watching the world go past. You idly lift your head every now and again, and wonder... "will I ever get that roof replaced?" and "the doorway is looking a little ragged". When you start envisioning new paint, new eaves, a larger porch, and better landscaping, you know that it is July and it really is time to get started on those repairs. After all, if you chew on the door jams any more, you won't need a new doorway, you'll need a garage door and a remote opener. Your great room could become a drive in. Rex himself would be embarassed to have guests over. Rex, for those who don't remember, is my Chesapeake Bay Retriever, and really quite particular.

July is Dog House Repairs Month. There is the Dog's house, and there is the dog house. One may be more proverbial than the other. So that got me to thinking... how would one make repairs to the proverbial dog house? I could live nicely in the dog house. But my dog house would require a pool table, 60" plasma, the latest Xbox complete with pink controller, a subscription to NFL TV, a well stocked wine fridge, and a scotch cupboard (which a friend tells me has seatbelts pre-installed). Perhaps my idea of a dog house is actually more a den of iniquity... a place of borderline ill repute... basically - a place my friends would feel comfortable. It's a home like structure, and Rex would be welcome as well.

There is the 'dog house' where one goes when one has done something wrong, unacceptable, shameful... like leaving the lid off the peanut butter or forgetting to pick up that box of tampons. Then there is the 'dog house' where one has done something really bad... like say... the neighbour. That dog house does not require repairs. That doghouse should be leaky, dank, the springs should be coming out of the sofabed, and it should be not in the garage, but a lean-to off the side of the garage. The dog house I'm talking about is the former.

In my perfect world, when one deserves to be in the dog house, I think the punishment should be NOT being in the dog house. You, hunny, can stay in the house with whatever DIY disaster you have created, and I shall go to the dog house. Play a bit of Halo, embibe in a wee dram, watch a game, read a book, have some friends over.... The punishment can be a lack of reward. And when things are done, and the toilet seat is down... then you too can enjoy the dog house. The strongest form of behaviour modification is a random positive reinforcement. It is why gambling is so good at creating gamblers. There is always the chance of something paying off. Think about this one... if the dog house was a good place, and you could go there when good things are done. If you make the right repairs to the dog house, I bet you can use this den to increase the good behaviours.

So when you are looking at Fido's digs and you want to build him a better porch, a leak-proof roof, and some landscaping... consider too fixing up the other dog house. It would almost be like obedience training if managed correctly. If this is a little over the top, you could always reward with cookies. Today is Sugar Cookie Day. It might be a little easier to whip up a batch of sugar cookies than it will be to get the flat screen installed. Personally, I would have to take the shoes out of the oven, and then where would I put them? Thought.... a shoe closet in my dog house!!!

SCUD missiles and the enemy

2010-07-08T03:51:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 8 July 2010 - There are few things in life that allow you a total escape. The iPod up high and your running shoes on the pavement... that is an escape. Sunshine and a good spy novel... that's an escape only if you shut off your phones and can find silence. But load up the Xbox or the PS3, pull out the pink controller (yes, the controller is pink), load your weapons, and shoot the shit out of anything that moves... that qualifies.

I don't see the lines of video gaming and the real world blurring, but the video game world can sure blurr the real one if only for an hour or two. Who can worry about laundry when there are aliens attacking? Mail to go through? Not while there are legions of tanks to move across the land. Paper work? Bah... I have a bout with Evander in a few minutes. Put up your dukes, lets get down to it. Yes, the older I get, the more I appreciate the simplicity of the escape. Did I mention I'm a Rock God in my video world? I can hammer a bass line with the best of the Geddy Lee's and Flea's. Of course I only have 5 buttons and a toggle for strings, but I Rock. The screen tells me so.

In the world of first person shooter games, I am usually tagged as bait. Seriously lacking in weaponry skills, but for a girl... I could be so much worse. And really, in team games, I'm ok running in to the open in hopes of drawing out the enemy. Everyone needs a sacrificial lamb. I only hope that the rest of my teammates are 12 year old crater faced teens with a penchant for Coke and pizza pie... well and A. Today is Video Games Day. I could see this being a full weekend, a week, or even a summer. One day? Seems too small for such a massive industry. There is a National Video Games Day coming... but we have to wait for September. I can wait, but I will not let this one pass me by. I may even hook up the Wii and take some time on the tennis court and bowling alley. I wonder if at my age I can call in with Carpal Tunnel and stay home from work? I guess once I hit publish on this post that might be a little more challenging. Do you think anyone from the office actually reads this? I gotta hope not some days. Other days, I think they might find out there is more to me than my evil exterior. (Really... there is more than the evil exterior... there is the evil interior).

Today is also SCUD Day - Savour the Comic... Unplug the Drama. I don't know much about the reasoning or the meaning behind such a day, but it sounds like a good reason to kick back and find a good laugh in anything that comes your way. Drama? Who has time for drama? Besides, I was told by a very good friend that I only had until today to live in my drama. This is the line in the sand that was drawn for me. It may not be as relevant for anyone else, though I am willing to bet that every one of us has something that we could draw a line in the sand about. If you do, today is the day. Drop the drama in your life and find the inner comic... the humour of it all. Dig deep if you must. Find a reason to laugh at yourself and at the 'drama' around you. How serious can we take this life anyway? We start bald and toothless, and after growing out lovely locks and good strong teeth, we go back to that starting state - only without the cute factor. That alone should be worth a giggle. Think about it, if we could live life backwards, we would get more tolerable to be around, and just get cuter. Think SCUD... find the funny. And if all else fails, launch a SCUD at the attackers.

Yes, those pants do make your ass look HUGE.

2010-07-07T01:11:00.002-07:00

Wednesday, 7 July 2010 - To tell you the truth, I sometimes write these blogs days ahead, or days behind. I would like to blame the blogging system for the late posts, but alas, I have to be honest. It is me. I get rapt up with the other crap in my life, and rather than sitting down to write, I post-pone in... the last three days posts... were poned. They were Post pones. Ok, that's enough pun ishment for one blog.

Seriously, today is Tell the Truth Day. This is the one day to be truthful in everything. If someone asks you "do these jeans make my butt look big", tell them the truth. Say "gee, I do not find that anything I say to that will make you happy, therefore, I refuse to answer for fear of lying or upsetting". That should be smooth enough. And... in the ensuing argument that will no doubt follow... do not say ANYTHING about her mother unless it is the truth. No wait... do not say ANYTHING about her mother.

But perhaps the toughest person you will have to be truthful with today is yourself. Lying to save us from our own feelings, emotions and fears is something that we all get very good at doing. Indeed we get so good at it, that we don't know we are telling ourselves little white fibs just to get through the day. Do you deserve the chocolate bar calling to you at the till? Of course you do, after all you only had a salad today (with steak, bluecheese, nuts, fried onions with a side of garlic bread). Can I spend the day sitting in the sun with a book? Certainly - you walked everywhere yesterday (to the grocery store three blocks away, the coffee shop that was on the way home, and you did walk down to the mailbox... 1347 steps).

These are the little lies we don't even register. What about the big lies we tell ourselves? I for one, have a very tough exterior. Those around me tell me I am a strong, independent woman who is smart and capable. Inside, I know I am afraid, I need more support than I will ask for, and I second guess everything I do because it probably isn't being done right or with enough thought. In reality, I am not anything like the persona that people seem to believe. Does that make me the consummate liar? Or does that make me human? Do we all lie to ourselves, and about ourselves to make living in this world easier? Do we only lie about the things that we are sure aren't hurting anyone else? In telling these lies to protect the innocent, do we hurt ourselves?

There are so many common little white lies that we hear every day that I think we've come to accept them not for being lies, but for something else. Perhaps they have become filler in our conversations or a way to boost oneself. How about the gift you opened last Christmas that you had zero idea what it was or what it would be used for and you said "Thank you, I love it". Lie. Truth... I have no idea what this is, or what it does. "No officer, I have no idea how fast I was going." Lie. Truth... Shit, I was 25 over the speed limit. I hope he didn't clock me at the worst of it. "I am sure I sent that to you. Let me look in my email." Lie. Truth... I hadn't even started it. It just seemed so insignificant to me. "It wasn't me." Lie. Truth... it was me... it just wasn't worth taking credit for. "I am so glad you called, no.. I wasn't sleeping." Lie again. Truth... I was sound asleep, and I don't know that I even remember the conversation. It must not have been very scintillating.

Well, today is going to be about telling the truth... to myself. I will admit to the chocolate milk on my cereal. I will admit to standing still on the escalators and will attempt to take only the stairs. I will not crap on myself if I don't, but I will not let me off the hook with a little white lie. I too will be honest with those around me. I will not say it will be easy... that would be a lie. I will attempt to protect your feelings, but won't feed you a handful of crap. So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not ask me if you look like you lost any weight, or if the pants do anything for your backside. You don't want to know, and I don't want to tell you the truth.

Buckets of breasts and thighs.... a.k.a. Porn and Chicken

2010-07-06T00:42:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 6 July 2010 - The internet brought about an entirely new industry of skills and professions. There is graphic web design, there is hosting, there is large data storage and optimization. There are thousands of people who's job is to buy, sell and analyze web advertising. An entire stream of jobs hover around the YouTube site, and don't forget YouTube program hosts. There is internet porn jobs that range from "talent" to downstream sales (not sure that sounds right... but it does sound dirty). The online porn industry probably has a large number of large storage specialists on their rosters... and girls whose names end in "i".

Every type of business in every country can be found online. That means there must be enough webmasters out there to fill a medium sized country. If you were to fill a state with only those webmasters from iPorn you would need Texas. (This might not be that bad a state... with that many iPorn Masters, there would have to be a lot less republicans.) Whatever your business needs are, or your business's focus, your website is no longer a nice-to-have but a must-have.

I don't think I'm the only one that does MOST of my research on anything... tattoos, restaurants, wines, liposuction, gun courses... without going to the internet first. I look up locations, reviews, prices, previous work, maps to get there, and more all before picking up the phone. And ultimately, I only pick up the phone if the company's webmaster hasn't yet built a way for me to communicate quickly online. Can I make a reservation or book an appointment online like I can getting to the geek bar at the Apple store? Can I find out if a table for 6 is available at 19:30? Can I send an image that looks like something I want permanently etched on to my body before I get there? The website is no longer a colourful Yellow Pages ad and I am, quite frankly, offended when that is all I am getting. Give me features. Give me a reason to shut down the computer and see you in person... but not because I'm frustrated that you couldn't answer my questions before hand. I want to see you in person because your pages are fabulous, you understood my wants, and you had some really cool shit on your site.

iPorn sites have an ace in the bag (ooh... another bad reference). When people go to their sites, its pretty clear what they are looking for. They want porn, they want it annonymously, and they want it now. They don't want to then call in, book and appointment, fill out an information form, or even give you a name. If you want a name you are probably going to get some name like John Smith. Hmm... I wonder what is the most common fake name given to a porn site? The webmasters of these sites must have a convention or something. Webmasters of ANY site deserve a little pat on the back once and a while. For good websites, they deserve more than pats. Today is Take Your Webmaster to Lunch Day. If the site is good and you are drawing kudos from your customers and fans... take them somewhere nice. If the site is eh... street meat (hotdogs, not hookers).

Today is also Fried Chicken Day. If your site is of the porn variety, I recommend giving your webmaster a bucket of chicken, delivered... with napkins. A slippery keyboard should be reserved for those late night content changes and bandwidth issues.

Live to work....

2010-07-05T00:06:00.001-07:00

Monday, 5 July 2010 - Having a life outside of work is a ton of work. I find it so much easier to get up, put on my work wear, go do what they pay me to do, and come home to do it all again tomorrow. With work, I usually know what to expect. I can do the job with some level of proficiency, and at the end of each two week rotation, they pay me for doing the job. And in the end, it is just so much easier to go to work than it is to not work.

Work is a known, quantifiable, predictable entity. In some ways this is what is so appealing about work. Work can also involve a lot of change and challenge, which too is incredibly appealing. When work is constant change and much challenge, I don't think too much about my not at work life. When work gets a little predictable, I start to look at my not at work life and wonder what the hell I'm doing with the non-work days. I spend some of that time getting ready to be at work... laundry, lunches.... But away from getting ready for work on non-work days, I find the rest of that time rather stressful and, frankly, down right depressing.

I made a promise to myself two and a half years ago that I would not continue to live to work, but would rather work to live. On paper (and on a computer screen), this looks easy enough. But then along came some very challenging work with lots of change, lots of opportunity, and was a project with a fast approaching deadline. Work was exhilarating. There just wasn't enough time for life outside of work. As a result I missed C's entire first year, lost touch with my family, lost touch with my friends, and worse, forgot how to get to Whiterock. Honestly, I loved every second of it. Work defines me. Sad, but true.

Well, the deadline was made, the project finished on budget and early, and then the day to day operations began. Finally, I had time to once again re-connect with the people outside of work (re-re-connected?). I re-visited (re-re-visited) my work-to-live promise. Then came the Olympics. Another project, and another fast approaching and unmovable deadline. Wahoo.... work work work. Now I have to re-re-re-connect with friends and family, and here I am, on Workaholic Day re-re-re-visiting my work-to-live plan.

The thing about us workaholics... we rely on work to keep us sane. We rely on work to distract us from the rest of our lives, because we all work too hard to have them. Work is a distraction that keeps us from facing the reality of our lives. Don't know what I'm afraid to look at... there isn't anything there of which to be afraid. There isn't a bad relationship to worry about... there isn't a relationship to be bad. There isn't screaming kids to come home to... there isn't any kids. There aren't too many social engagements to be late for, cause there isn't that many social engagements. Am I afraid that I will look and see a void? A void could be looked at as a blank canvas. A blank canvas could be an opportunity whereby I get to create the life that I work to support.

It is workaholic day and I am proud to say that I have the day off. Granted it is part of my regularly scheduled days off, but we don't have to focus on that part do we? Tell you what... I will not look at the Blackberry all day. Well, maybe only to check my mail. Baby steps.

If you could be invisible for just one day...

2010-07-04T11:51:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 4 July 2010 - There is so much that could be obvious about today's post. I could follow up on the July 1st post and talk about celebrating Independence Day in Canada but truly, there isn't much of a celebration to write about. I had a little shop (just tee shirts), a little breaky, and then off to work. Alas, there was no vacation on this side of the 49th, and no stat pay. There sure won't be any fireworks and I suspect there won't be that many crazies out riding around on public transit.

But the day is all about going unnoticed. July 4 is Invisible Day. Is it akin to 'fly on the wall day' or is it more like 'oh wo is me day'. There are days that everyone can feel a little invisible. These days can be brought on by bouts of pity (that one is me), they can be brought on by a sense of failure (again... could be me), or they can be brought on by the super powers of another dimension and can make the rest of the world jealous as hell. Well, it would if they could see you.

If you could be invisible for just one day, what would you do with that day? Would you hang out in the dressing room of the Seahawks and admire the offensive line? (Hey... now THAT really does sound like me.) Would you walk amongst your office mates and superiors to hear what they won't say to you? Would you sit in on the dark backroom negotiations of the G20 summit and then use the information to potentially really make a difference? Or, would you use it to play pranks on people all day long? If it were me, I would want to spend it in the dressing room of the Seahawks playing pranks on the offense, defense, and special teams. I mean come on...

It was also on July 4th that Lewis Carol told a story to Alice Liddell that would eventually become the story of Alice in Wonderland. In celebration of this great tale... every time I think of the boys in the dressing room, wearing their towels and their smiles, I too will be smiling... like a Cheshire Cat.

Attention shoppers, there is a limited time deal on beans....

2010-07-02T00:15:00.000-07:00

Friday, 2 July 2010 - Attention Walmart Shoppers... there is a special today on cat chow and ammunition. Do you ever have one of those days when you wake up, shower, get dressed, head out the door and then accidentally catch your likeness in a pane of glass on the way in to the office tower? You know those days when you were pretty sure you looked better when you left the house than when you arrived at work... only to discover that your own mirror may have you deceived. It's not a full on full length mirror crisis, but it does trigger full on reflection reflection. Which reflection is accurate? Odds are the one you saw when you left the house is the better bet. Is it double or triple-pane glass? That reflection could then be a merged view of two or three images.

No matter how bad a day I might be having about what I've put on to be in public, or what I saw as I passed by the Holt Renfrew display windows... there is a web site that can always lift my spirits. I'm sure the emails have made it in to you inbox once in a while, but folks, let me just say this once... if you have doubts whether or not the outfit is fit for public consumption, it probably isn't. Just take a short visit to www.PeopleOfWalmart.com. Sorted by state, there are a few states that are more frightening than others, but here in Washington, there is plenty people of Walmart to give you the willies enough to check all reflections you come across just to be sure you are not website material.

Sam Walton probably had no idea what was to come when he opened the first Walmart on this day in 1962 in Rogers, Arkansas. However, that being said, check out the Arkansas state pictures. They have got to be some of the best. Maybe he not only knew what was to come, but could appreciate the retail genious of giving all those folks who do not get dressed up enough for a trip to the Big K somewhere to congregate, buy ammunition and stock up on cat food and baked beans.

When the weather warms up, the same folks you'll find at Walmart will be invading our beaches and parks... in wife beaters and bathing suits no doubt. They will pack up picnic lunches with all the good sandwich fixins and beans they could carry. But in keeping with a theme, July is Baked Beans Month. I bet there will be a few great specials in the canned goods aisles. Shop on. Just, wear shoes, a shirt that fits, and pants that, at the bare minimum, cover your glutes. And please please please check for skid marks. Thank you for shopping at Walmart, and have a nice day.

Follow up on today's post

2010-07-01T23:26:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 1 July 2010 - So the jury is in on the iPad. It took me too long to post the post (probably not any longer than any other post), there are too many errors (possibly not more than most) and it DEFINITELY doesn't fit in my 'breast pocket'. Too hard to conceal. Requires full body harness. Dang it anyway. Oh well... how was your Canada Day? Mine had cake, balloons, surrounded by family. Carry on.

A tartan skirt and a fifth of cake??

2010-07-01T01:16:00.001-07:00

Thursday, 1 July 2010 - So today it is Canada Day. Though this is a holiday best celebrated in Canada, I am south of the 49th and in a different zip code entirely. In fact, this post is different than most because I am posting from an iPad of which I have yet to determine if the laptop can be replaced by a larger iPhone. I will reserve all judgement until the end of this post. Should it be full of typos more than normal, blame Steve.

Zip codes are quite a sorting system. It's like the Dewey Decimal System for houses. A way to sort where you live, how much you earn, and your preference in coffee shop without actually asking you anything more than your zip. My current zip would suggest I will be celebrating the fourth of July, but like any good odd ball, I shall spend Canada Day in the USA and Independence Day in Canada. It could have it's challenges. For starters, I ordered a cake on Monday in the shape (should be easy) and pattern (also should be pretty straigh forward) of a Canadian flag for the occasion. I am in the US, not THAT far from the border, and I was asked if I could provide a picture of the flag for the decorator. Who knew the Canadian flag was so unusual? Then I went searching for a Canadian anything to go with the cake. I had to settle for red and white balloons. I still had to pay for the blue ones, I just asked that they not inflate the ones that were blue. Initially I got some confusion, and finally I got some dirty 'you must keep slaves in the garage' looks. I do keep something in the garage, but he doesn't answer to slave anymore. He prefers "porter". This is a zip code that you would be convinced is miles away from all other civilization. Granted the US postal code system is pretty impressive. And today of all days, I must bow to it in appreciate. For in the US it is Zip Code Day. If you live in a good one... hooray. If you live in one at all... hooray. In Canada we have a system all right. It seems to resemble the system in Britain, only not quite that organized or geographically based. It appears to be nothing more than a series of alternating letters and numbers that make up some kind of 'system' that only Postee's and the Census Bureau can decifer. .

For July 4 I will be back in Canada in a postal code that begins with V. I suspect this stands for Vancouver. I once lived in a postal code that also started with V but I was living in Campbell River. Prior to that, a postal code that started with P - but there wasn't a city, municipality or town around that I can come up with that started with P. I just don't understand the system as it were. But I digress.

To celbrate the 4th of July in Canada I will get charged extra for the blue balloons, but I won't have to provide a picture of the American flag... We know what that looks like in Canada. It looks a lot like our big brother's favorite teeshirt that we hope to grow in to one day. Recently a friend from Colorado took an oath to become a Canadian citizen. This will be her first truly Canadian Canada day. It is for her that I struggled with the bakery bubba that did not know what her new flag looks like. Did I mention this was but an hour or so south of the Canada-US border and a city that just hosted the Olympic winter games? I wonder how easy it will be to order a Stars and Stripes flag cake on Sunday? Bet you I can get a pre-decorated icecream cake and not even have to call ahead. Still, given a green card or a work permit I would be here (south of the 49th) in a moment. I may find the over-inflated sense of patriotism a little thick to swallow sometimes, but anything can be washed down with a little highland liquid. I wonder when Scotland Day is? I could celebrate that anywhere... all you need is a tartan skirt and a fiftth.

Time stands still... for a second or two.

2010-06-30T02:17:00.002-07:00

Time rarely gets a second chance. The clock ticks forward, and it does so at a pretty consistent speed. Though we use our own version of time largely dependent on where we live... CST, PST, MT, GMT, there is only one true time. The Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) is actually a time scale based on the mean solar time and earths real time spin. In 1999, for some unknown reason, the earth's spin actually increased. I blame Prince. If only he hadn't declared the year a party, we might not have been living life in the fast lane.

UTC is counted by using the atomic clock, but is kept in sinc with the actual mean solar time by adjusting the time on the atomic clock twice a year if needed. This day is on June 30th. This Leap Second Time Adjustment Day however, there is no adjustment needed. It seems we do not need to either slow down the atomic clock... repeat a second, or speed it up and skip a second in time. So it's not much of a leap at all this year. Maybe in we'll need to on Leap Second Time Adjustment Day 2.0 (December 31). There is a movement afoot in the scientific community to abolish the Leap Second. Sure.. it might not seem like that big a deal now... but in a million years or so... we could have lost 1 week 4 days 13 hours 46 minutes and 40 seconds.

The atomic clock, and the fact that I'm staying with my watch addicted mate this week, has me wondering how accurate a timepiece can be if not adjusted likewise as is the UTC. Is a Rolex more likely to keep accurate time and slow down for just a second every now and again, and only if announced that an adjustment is needed? Can a Patek Phillipe? I don't know if my Android can or that my solar powered Citizen can do it either, and it only runs if it gets to see the light of day. Could an atomic watch be too far away? After all, how big does an oscillating atom have to be? I'm sure in time, this is time piece we will all be wearing.

At 0 hours 13 minutes 35 seconds GMT on this date in 1908 a Meteor struck Russia, causing an explosion above the earth. Although the meteor is thought to have burst above ground, it is still considered an impact, and in written history, still the largest of it's kind. There are estimates that the blast was the equivalent of anywhere from 5-30 megatons of TNT. The 'event' is called the Tunguska Explosion, and thus today is Meteor Day. I'm not sure if this a day we should celebrate. Scientific estimations at what the impact of a meteor hitting earth today show mass destruction not unlike the movies. A large meteor could be an extinction causing event. Our planet would be left to the cockroaches and Twinkies, bringing on a whole new time... Blattapastryzoic period. Now there is a time we could leap over.

Need a hug? Phone a friend.

2010-06-29T02:43:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, 29 June 2010 - Telephones have changed the world. Cellular telephones... the mobile, the cell... have changed my world. Once we were happy enough with a great big long cord on the wall mounted phone in the kitchen that you could drag around from room to room while painting your toe nails and getting the latest gossip about Susan's friend Linda's best friend's sister's boyfriends buddy Paul. Then I remember getting a second phone and another phone jack. Then I got a phone in my room. Then I got my own phone number. Would it ever get any better than that? It was hard to imagine anyone having it better. I had my own phone, in my own room, and now when I was talking to Susan's friend Linda's best friend's sister's boyfriends buddy Paul I could do so without any fear that there was someone on the extension.

Then along came the mobile telephone. I of course got one. It was the size of a brick and had an antenna that would make NASA proud. Fortunately, it was at the beginning of the whole cell phone craze, and it wasn't long before Motorola came out with a flip phone. Of course it was now the size of half a brick - unless you put on the extended life battery. Like magic, the phone would now last 12 hours, but was back to being the size of a brick. Time marched on, and the phones got progressively smaller. Then came games, and calculators. Ringtones... could it get any better? Individual ringtones... very cool. I got my first I-Paq phone and it was my palm pilot, phone, and camera all in one. I thought I'd hit the big time, but alas, there was more to come still.

On this day in 2007 Apple put the first iPhone out for sale. There was a line around every Apple Store, AT&T re-seller for the masses to finally get their hands on the phone that was going to change things again.. It really did change the way we thought of phones, and yet another race was on. Who could pack the most uses in to a single phone? We now have instant access to phones no matter our location.

There is no longer a phone in my house. No phone jacks, no extensions, no phone bills. I have my iPhone, as any self respecting geek should. I now have with me at any time of day or night a map of the world, an ongoing game of Scrabble with Hiro, Wikipedia, weather updates, all my contacts, my pictures and my calendar. I have become so attached to my phone that should I leave the house without it, I feel naked. It's worse than that public speaking nightmare. What if I need to look something up? What if someone is texting me? What if I'm supposed to be somewhere and I don't know where?

I am attached to my phone, that I had to seperate work from play. Just incase I don't have enough ways to stay in touch, I also carry around a Blackberry... but that one is only for work. I have become so very attached to my phones, that I keep them very close. They are in my breast pockets, a.k.a. my bra. In fact, I keep my iPhone in the left side, and the BlackBerry in the right. The former is personal, the latter is work. It's easy to keep track. The personal phone is full of people I adore, and so it lives close to my heart. It's like a digital hug. The work phone... well it's in the other "breast pocket". Speaking of digital hugs... today is Hug Day. Go ahead and hug your mates, hug your friends, and hug your kids. Me... I'll make a few phone calls from whereever I happen to be.

OOH.... never mind, I'm getting a hug myself. My left breast is ringing. Did I mention I keep it on vibrate? Hugs.

Paul, Babe, Rex and Tyson

2010-06-28T03:10:00.000-07:00

Monday, 28 June 2010 - The 49th parallel is really the ultimate line in the sand. If you are above it... Canadian. If you are below it... American. Yet centuries ago that line really didn't have secured border crossings. It is why so many things that are Canadian are touted or revered as American. Let's be honest, the marketing machine has always been larger on the south side of the line. Of course there is basketball, which was really a Canadian PE teacher's way of getting some tallish boys to get a bit of exercise. But it became an American classic. Indeed we have only one NBA team in Canada (well, two once... but let's not draw too much attention to the Grizzlies).

Let's talk folklore. Paul Bunyan... now there was a tall boy. Like all good folklore, it is passed from generation to generation over camp fires, sleepovers, and boyscout camp. The tales of Paul Bunyan originated in Quebec during the Papineau Rebellion. In the original lore, Paul Bonjean (sounds "Bonyenne") was a great, bearded lumberjack that helped the lumberjacks of the Two Mountains area of Quebec fight against the British. He was hailed as the great defender of the people. The stories got told over and over and with each telling of the tale, a little embellished. I suspect that after a couple of cross-border camping trips, the tales just fell under the spell of that same US marketing machine... and so grew Paul Bunyan's stature as American folklore. Tales of Paul Bunyan make it into the written literature in 1910, by an American journalist named James MacGillvary. In time, Mr. Bunyan has become responsible for scooping out the Great Lakes in order to give his ginormous ox a beverage. His footprints are responsible for the 10,000 lakes in Minnesota. He dug out the Grand Canyon by dragging his big ass axe behind him, and built Mount Hood by piling rocks on to a campfire to put it out. I'm sure his trusty blue ox - the larger than normal "Babe" was a sidekick, and companion in all his adventures and hard work.

With the wonders of all Mr. Bunyan's work, and his sheer size, I'm surprised that there is only one day to celebrate the man. Given to day is Paul Bunyan Day, you might want to celebrate with a Keg Size. Infact, everything you do today, you should go large. Maybe that is why when Tyson and Hollyfield took to the ring on this day in 1997, Mikey bit off a chunk of Evander's ear. If you are going to have a meal, a heavyweight champion is as good as super sizing the fries.

PS... Happy Birthday Rex. You might not be blue, and you probably couldn't dig out a channel of earth the size of the grand canyon, but you carried home the croissants this morning and that makes you my trusty side kick.

If you've a date in Dubrovnik.... She'll be wearing Oakley shades

2010-06-27T23:20:00.004-07:00

Sunday, 27 June 2010 - The globe is an ever changing, living breathing thing. We can call it Mother Nature, call it the power of the tides, you can blame it on the moon, hell, you can even call it god... but whatever you call it there is no denying the unmeasurable power of the planet. Over the centuries and thousands and thousands of years, geologists, biologists, paleontologists, physicists and backyard astronomers have shown the amazing changes our planet has undergone. From the Ice Age to the Pleistocene, from Lucy to Uncle Bob... change is the only thing we can without a doubt say is constant. Think string theory and you would think that those changes and random collisions are actually predictable. Maybe.

I watched a documentary tonight detailing our reliance on the one celestial orb in to which we have managed to hammer in a flag. The moon, though slowly moving away from us at a rate of about 2.5 inches a year, is largely responsible for keeping the earth spinning on the right axis. Should our moon decide to bugger off (and really, with the way we treat our planet who could blame it if it did), the earth would continue to roam around the oft worshiped ball of flames. However, it would no longer do so on an axis that allows for semi-predictable weather patterns. Instead, the earth would waggle and wiggle. The poles would be in direct sun for days, maybe months. Imagine penguins in sunglasses? I can't see it. Foster Grant would have to start with a whole new pattern. After all, penguins have no ears to sit sunglasses upon. I can actually picture the Emperor penguins wearing Maui Jim's. Go figure, today is Sunglasses Day. I hope that Foster Grant and Ray Ban are out celebrating. Maybe you can find Foster in a pub, Ray out riding his bike and Jim hanging on the beaches of the South Pole.

The continents have shifted, moved, grown and contracted over the last several million years. What was likely once a large singular land mass became a bunch of continents that required airlines to overcome. It is fairly difficult to catch a train from Mozambique to Honolulu. Even in our recorded history, the continents have changed. Borders are redefined regularly. Countries come in to being, and countries cease to exist. Towns get absorbed by larger urban centres, and farms become condo developments. There was once a place called Constantinople, which was once Byzantium. Now it's Istanbul. I hate to channel a song, but

Even old New York, was once New Amsterdam.
Why'd they change it... I can't say.
People just liked it better that way........ 1.

On today's date in 1358, the Republic of Dubrovnik was founded. Historians suggest that Dubrovnik, once Ragusa, was originally founded by the Greeks, but later came under Byzantine protection. After the crusades, it came under the control of Venice. The Rupublic of Dubrovnik stood until the late 1660's, when a decline in shipping and an earthquake nearly wiped it out (over 5000 people died and the buildings were essentially leveled), the republic sold off two areas to the Ottomans to avoid the advances of the Venetians (conflict, not a first date gone horribly wrong). There is hundreds of years of history after that, but lets skip to present day. Today, Dubrovnik is a city in Croatia on the Adriatic Sea. So if you've a date in the Republic of Dubrovnik... she'll be waiting in Croatia.

1. "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" by They Might be Giants.... I thank you for this. The once song that has been stuck in my head since college and alas... there it remains.

Forgive, get high, and forget.

2010-06-26T03:08:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 26 June 2010 - So it's Saturday night, and you are out with a few mates. You start at a pub, have a few, work your way to the local rib joint, inhale half a pig slow roasted and coated in bbq sauce, and then hit the local watering hole for a few more. Sounds like a pretty decent Saturday night really. What if during that night you get in to a battle over, oh I don't know, the next round of football matches. You pit country against country, and your battle gets deep. Perhaps it isn't even about football, but world security and the role sport plays in developing a world wide peace. I have to wonder how many politico's it took in that local watering hole on this day in 1945 to sign the first ever United Nations Charter. Do you think they knew that really, all you need is football and ribs? Every good argument with mates over a pint or two usually ends with a few slaps on the back, a story to tell next time about that time when one buddy tried to kick another buddy but fell and broke his arm up high... broke the humerous and it wasn't really that funny, but you tell it over and over again anyway.

The United Nations may have missed it's mark. The charter was simple enough:

To maintain international peace and security, to take collective measures for the prevention and removal of threats to the peace, develop friendly relations among nations based on respect for the principle of equal rights, achieve international co-operation in solving international problems of an economic, social, cultural, or humanitarian character, and to be a centre for harmonizing the actions of nations in the attainment of these common ends.^1.

What could be more difficult than that right? Seems "simples" enough. Just bring together a few political animals, cage them up in a room, and let them talk about how they are going to solve the world's largest issues just be getting together. I would like to suggest that FIFA is probably doing a better job.

I suspect that there is probably a greater global impact on peace and security if we could put an end to the drug trafficking trade. Take a look at the wars and battles that have been going on in Mexico, Chile, Peru, Colombia, Afghanistan, China, Malaysia, Russia, and so much more. The drug trafficking industry leads to civil wars, gorilla wars, death, decay, child abuse, and mafia bosses with a penchant for cannoli. The drug trade also leads to smaller threats to peace on a personal level. Drug use and abuse can lead to petty crime, broken car windows, street walkers, broken families, violence, death, overdoses and more. The results of the drug wars world wide have a staggering effect on those living right in our own backyards.

Today is International Day against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking. I somehow doubt one day against such a global black spot will be nearly enough. Any illicit trafficking of drugs on home soil likely started with the farming of poppies in Afghanistan, the harvesting of Cocoa leaves in Colombia, the wars on the streets in Mexico and the politics and death that thrive on the same. There are governments who benefit from the trade, and maffia and cartels that depend on trafficking to hold strong. Drug abuse is rampant world wide, not just at home, on the east side or in the projects. I suspect that there is alot more to this industry than the junkies on the receiving end. There is too much to gain for countries who have little, and too much invested to give up without a war. The UN wants peace. However, this is a pretty enormous challenge. They might have to pull out the peace pipe because putting a few old stogies in a room a few times a year to discuss the need for world peace sounds to me like they've all smoked a little weed. The intentions are good, and for that reason, I can forgive them for it as today is also Forgiveness Day.

1. The 'Readers Digest' version of the UN Charter found on the UN website http://www.un.org/en/documents/charter/chapter1.shtml

Somewhere over the rainbow... MJ dyes

2010-06-25T05:08:00.001-07:00

Friday, 25 June 2010 - Do you ever wonder what really drives a person to do the things they do largely because they are things you just couldn't see yourself doing? Can you not picture yourself doing them from a lack of bravery, common sense, or the reality checks that keep your behaviors in check? There are great men, odd men, and men of conviction that give us a rich and colourful history because they maybe just did the things they thought made sense to them and no one else.

George Armstrong Custer was an interesting man, who is probably remembered most for his utterly disastrous battle in the black hills of Montana. The Battle at Little Big Horn was likely not his best move, but certainly his most memorable. During and leading up to this battle, the Colonel refused help, left behind the guns that may have come in handy, and divided up his troops - all 600 of them - even though he had advanced information on the sheer number of Sioux that would be faced. But...this Colonel - even dead, had the benefit of great press. A truly skillful media man, from the great beyond, somehow managed to find himself an esteemed place in US history. He worked the press before the battle, and his wife worked the press after. Proving again that behind every great man is a great woman (thank you Annie Lenox).

Good Ol' George died on this day in 1876 on that battlefield. Not but moments after praising his troops and asking them to finish up so they could hit the saloon and pillage a few buxom Sioux women and a few hottie Cheyennes no doubt. Custer did not make it to the bar that night. I have a few other suspicions about that night. I say he did make it to the bar, made a few indecent proposals, and had the bejesus knocked out of him by a woman. Indeed at a public meeting of the Northern Cheyenne in June of 2005 at a public meeting, a 100 year silence was broken and the traditional storytellers told another version of the days events on June 25, 1876. They tell a story that has been passed down according to their oral tradition that "Buffalo Calf Road Woman, a Northern Cheyenne heroine of the Battle of the Rosebud, struck the final blow against Custer, which knocked him off his horse before he died."¹Chalk another one up to a scorned woman.

Give the Colonel cudos though, he did stick to his guns and he lead his troops into something. I don't know if I could do the same. But, people have great strength when it comes to standing up for what they believe. On June 25th in 1978, Gilbert Baker and his boyfriend Jomar Teng tye-dyed a flag and flew it with pride at the first ever Gay Pride Parade in San Fransisco. Not only did it take great skill and probably a shit load of pot to make a flag out of tye-dye... but they had to dress up in there Sunday best spats and thongs and fly the flag in a time when we couldn't really joke about the spats without implying a negative. Honestly, in today's world, the Pride Parades have the Macy's Day Parades beat hands (and tops) down for entertainment, music, dancing, and body paint. Gilbert really did need to go out on a limp. But in honour of Gilbert, and Jomar, and all the other friends they made that day, today is GLBT Flag Day. Yes... I said Flag, but that reminds me of a side story.

Once while working for the City, I and my conservative bordering on uptight boss, were looking online for the flags of the world for our multilingual website. While typing in www.flags.com I missed the "L". Not sure which was more entertaining... the website, or my blushing boss.

Ok, back to Flag Day. This is the start of Pride Week in cities around the world. No matter what your lifestyle, the colour, sex, gender, or preferences of your partners or yourself, be proud. Be proud to live in a time when acceptance and possibility is possible. We may not be there yet, but I think we are getting there. Its 32 years later... lets hope we've grown as a society and as human beings. Let the waxing begin.f

Oh yeah... MJ. Well, it is also the anniversary of the death of Michael Jackson. Speaking of doing things you sometimes don't understand... MJ was born black. He was born in a time when great strides were being made for the Black rights movements. He had an opportunity to change the way the world saw people who are black. Instead, MJ died white. These are certainly "colours" of some kind, but as a human being I think I am more proud of the rainbow of colours in the GLBT Flag than I am of the greyscale of MJ. I am neither black nor GLBT, but I believe with conviction that all people, no matter your leanings, biological drive or melatonin is any different than the rest. Perhaps if George Custer had stood up for the same then, there would have been no Little Big Horn, but rather a peaceful meeting over a pipe, and the breaking of bannock.

1. Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Armstrong_Custer

Your senses could deceive you...

2010-06-24T13:03:00.000-07:00

Thursday, June 24, 2010 - The sights and sounds all around us make for a rich tapestry. Some tapestries are richer than others. In the city in which I live, there are very distinct tapestries - let's call them neighbourhoods - that draw certain people and repel others. There is the so called "creme de la creme" neighbourhood of Kerrisdale and Shaugnessy... attracts me for the coffee and cheap pedicures. There is the Downtown Eastside which repels because of the public urination and the unattractive hookers. It does attract ugly hookers and people who need to pee. Yaletown is a great neighbourhood. Attracts me for the nightlife and convenience of the tube station (the hookers here are much better looking as well). Kitsilano has shopping, a dog beach, a people beach, and lots of coffee. Again, appeals to me, but repels those who find yuppies and puppies a bit too much.

Strangely, each of these neighbourhoods have their own smells. Of course the DTES smells of roses and sage. (Well, of a street walker named Rose, and burning sage bush and crack cocaine). Kerrisdale on the other hand, has an aroma of Oil of Olay. Yaletown smells a little of a meat packing district. What was once old warehouses is now a thriving neighbourhood of younger and single people. Perhaps meat market would be a more apt descriptor.

I work in public transit. My senses should really go on strike. They should just pack it in and call it quits. My eyes experience great burning images of girls in belts for skirts, tube tops and baby tees on what you can only hope is covering the correct roll. These images can be burned on to the retinas of your mind for days. Some of them are permanent. I beg that my senses are deceiving me, but alas, I am often not the only one who notices these vision. No mirages on the line but there is apparently a full length mirror shortage crisis. Might need a telethon for this one.

Then there is the sounds of public transit. How about the drunk 20-somethings who think they are "the next American Idol". It's like the auditions round every weekend. My ears would bleed if not for the desensitization they've had from my own singing.

Have I mentioned the smells? As the weather heats up outside, the smells seem to concentrate. There is the over perfumed, the over beverage'd, the over sun-screen'd, the over garlic'd, the under bathed, the under-deodorized, the under-diaper'd, the should have worn a diaper'd and so much more. There are those special gifts that get left behind after a night of hyper-imbibing where you also get to experience the dinner that was had along with the beverages.

Well, today is Celebration of the Senses Day. Regardless of where you live, what you do, and where you will find yourself today, take notice of the things your senses are telling you which we don't often hear. Look around and find one thing you hadn't noticed before with your eyes. Sniff around and find one thing you have been ignoring that your nose is saying. Touch something soft, rough, smooth, hard, cold and hot but do be careful. Taste something new - just read the label first. We probably miss 60% of our worlds for not paying attention. Our senses truly are amazing and make our own tapestry a fascinating place to be.

If you work in public transit however... you may just want to give your senses a day off in celebration. A little like making pancakes for dad on Father's Day.

Children and dogs go together

2010-06-23T07:05:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, June 23, 2010 - As the school year comes to an end, and the summer begins in earnest, there is one thing that is very hard to miss... all the children hanging about. There are kids at the park, at the pool, and even at the gym. There are kids hanging off their parents in malls, and hanging in malls to avoid their parents. There are kids outside of 7-11's and even the local Starbucks is being overrun with underlings. So what I find fascinating is that it is Children's Awareness Month. Of all the months for this, it has to be the one month that you can't help but run into children everywhere. Trust me... I am very aware. I am aware of how little kids have to do all day. I am aware of the big words and the short four-letter ones that children are familiar with, and have a penchant for using. I am well aware of the size of the soccer pitch behind the house and just how many kids can take it over for uses that rarely involve a football.

June is Children's Awareness Month. Is there anything in particular that this can hope to accomplish more than they are doing all on their own? Perhaps what could come of this is a better selection of entertainments that are not only 'appropriate' for community centres and schools, but appealing to the kids themselves. I don't know that I've seen too many 15 year old kids these days who are interested in taking in a swimming camp. How about a music writing/production/rap camp? How about a class in making your own bling or speed texting? How to hack your iPhone and mess with your parents camp? (I would like to attend that one.)

I do not have children. I am sure that that is not obvious in my writing, huh? I guess that gene failed to turn on, or maybe it's self preservation for a road not traveled. I do have a dog. I have a Chesapeake Bay Retriever who himself likes to play on that soccer pitch with a football when we can actually get on the field. I work long days on the days I work. Because my child is a dog, I don't need babysitting, but I do utilize a dog walker. He used to come to work with me every day. Now I work in operations on a railway and that just isn't an option anymore. Yesterday, I had meetings in the office all day, and for the first time in two years, I took my dog to work. He spent half the day under the desk of the customer care guru'ess, and the other half under the board room table. It was a flashback to how good a life he used to have. Now if I could just figure a way to bring him to work on my operations days... he would have it made. If I was paying closer attention I would have known yesterday that TODAY is Bring Your Dog to Work Day. I would say I missed the boat on this one, but it turns out Rex and I are just trailblazers.

Stupidity is fuel for fodder.

2010-06-22T19:28:00.003-07:00

Tuesday, June 22, 2010 - People can make all kinds of mistakes in their lives. Mistakes are made at work, that ultimately make you a stronger employee, supervisor or boss. Some mistakes get made with our partners and loved ones. These mistakes can make a relationship stronger, or break a relationship. More often than not, mistakes are just stupid errors that happen because people have a momentary lapse in judgment or a few too many judgment lapsing beverages. Waking up with a hangover and a feeling that there are holes in the evenings events time line... truly sets the stage for a perfect storm of stupid mistakes. Ultimately, if you don't wake up with a tiger in the bathroom and a chicken on the piano you should be alright eventually.

The perfect storm for stupid mistakes involves a group of guys, way too much stupid lubricant (shots), good weather, and a reason to celebrate. The reasons to celebrate can range from life changing events to the reasons found on these pages. The reason isn't as critical to the perfect storm as is the rest of the requirements. The shots on the other hand, can range from tequila to Jaggermeister, and can be delivered by a hot bar wench or a homely hairy barkeep. All this and voila, the stupid meter begins to creep up the scale.

Guys really do have the market cornered often on doing stupid things. So much so that there are many things that by default fall in to the "Stupid Guy Thing" category. Even when the girls do the same, it is still considered a stupid guy thing. If a girl leaves the toilet seat up (from cleaning perhaps??)... stupid guy thing. Forget a birthday... stupid guy thing. Not answering the phone... stupid guy thing. Refuse to ask for directions... stupid guy thing. These things don't even require stupid lubricant. Women can attempt to fight them, but at some point you have to give in, and just accept that the stupid things that guys do is just part and parcel of the maleness of that half of the species.

It would be in the human race's best interest to accept these behaviours. Maybe by accepting it, we can then compact all the stupid things in to a short period of time. Give all guys carte blanche to get all their stupid out. Surprise surprise, today is Stupid Guy Thing Day. Get your stupid out boys. Leave the toilet seat up today, for tomorrow it shall get you in trouble. Go ahead and get lost, do not ask for directions, and drive the car dry trying to get there... but tomorrow, you better have a map, a Tom Tom, GPS on your phone, and have memorized the phrase "Excuse me, but I'm lost. Do you know how to get to..." Today you can change the channel randomly as many times as you want, but touch the remote tomorrow during a re-run of House that you've already sat through twice, and removing the remote will require surgery and a week of you lying on your stomach.

Go ahead and celebrate. Poke fun at yourself and scratch random bits in public all day long. If you need a little lubricant (and not for remote extraction), do that too. Heck, hang out with your buddies and do stupid guy things together. It will give me something to write about tomorrow, and probably provide fodder for many more columns. Today is also Columnist Day. I'm no Ann Landers (trust me, my relationship advise is NOT worth taking), but I am always game to write about as little as possible in as many words as I feel like typing. Come on guys, I'm counting on you.

Longest day you say??

2010-06-22T00:22:00.000-07:00

Monday, June 21, 2010 - Alas, it is the longest day of the year. No that does not mean it is the longest day at work... but it is Monday. It does not mean it is the day that will drag on more than any other. It means the sun is over the tropic farthest north and as for summer.... this could be as good as it gets.

So tonight was also the opening home game for the Oakland A's farm team, and the stands were full. They were full of cheering, beveraging (I did partake), and boys in white pants. We won, and in a pretty good game. Pitcher changes about 4 times in the night, and the fireworks were alright. We did watch them from my patio with a bottle of pinot grigio. Hey, there has to be some perks from livin across the soccer pitch from the ball park.

Home team... 1.... Longest day of the year... full count. It is the summer solstice... the longest day of the year. The day when the boys of summer on the field, and the most sunshine should meet head to head, but alas... this year.. not so much. There was rain, cloud, and sun. There was no great cheer for the longest day of the year. I did cheer for the 'boys' of summer, but not in a tank top, or a tee.. but in a sweater and jeans. Thankfully, after the beer guy sorted out his order to meet my needs, it was apparent that he too knew that "beer guy" tee required a sweater.

Celebrating Daylight Appreciation Day should make a ton of sense. It is the longest day. Supposedly, it is the hottest day. And ultimately, should be the largest celebration of summer. So... if this is the longest Monday on record or is the hottest Monday on record... Congratulations. The sun is over the tropics. We are officially experiencing the longest and hottest day... and this is it.. the start of summer. Did you miss something? Me too.. I missed the start of summer, the longest day, and the start of days warmer than those of late fall and early spring.

Wonder what the fall will bring.....

Carpenters and Fathers

2010-06-20T14:52:00.001-07:00

Sunday, June 20, 2010 - It's the third Sunday in June and that means by default, it is Father's Day. But for those who no longer have their father, never had a father, lost touch with their father, or have deleted their father's contact info... today is the third Sunday in June. But all is not lost for those folks, for today is the start of Carpenter Ant Awareness Week. I'm sure somewhere in there is a logical segue but I'm not quite there yet. Give me a few paragraphs.

Relationships with your father a relationship that molds you. I read on a friends Facebook posting today that his relationship with his father continues to make him a better father. And in turn, he will no doubt play that role for his son. For girls, the relationships with their father can help mold their choices in the men in their lives. So what about the girls who don't have a father in thier life? What type of men do they choose? Do they continue to emulate exactly what they know and not choose one at all? Is there a void that they continue to fill with that same void?

A friend has told me on many occassions that not only did she adore her dad, but she married a man who is just like her dad. The question that I must then ask is... is what makes a great father make a great partner? I'm thinking that there are qualities there that may make a man like your father a not so great partner. As a girl, you look up to your dad for guidance, acceptance, a round of golf, and a chance to hold the hammer and work the sander. ( I told you I'd find a connection at some point.) As a husband, you may want some of those things, but hold your own hammer, and the sander is all yours babe. A round of golf is not a bad idea, but having golfed with many married couples, let me tell you as the single outsider... it is NOT really that great an idea Golf with your mates mate.

Now I have other friends who's fathers were excellent role models and have grown to be men of good character. Sadly, several of them are good with keyboards, good with a pen... but tools of any other kind are just not on their list of strengths. These are the men you have in your lives that will 'call a guy' when things need fixing. Not a carpenter among them. I have an aunt who is pretty handy, but I don't suspect that is what is meant by Carpenter Ant.

Lazy hazy days of summer

2010-06-19T14:59:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 19, 2010 - There are few things as pleasant and self indulgent as sitting in the warm summer sun, reading a book and warming the skeletal frame that takes a beating the rest of the time. It is a moment that will happen twice a year if I'm lucky, and it will be one of the few times where I will feel that warmth given I live north of the 49th parallel. But it happens so rarely not only because of the northern location my patio is geographically located. It is also due to a complete inability to find enough time to laze. Instead, I have come up with a new motto in life... take everything you do, and slow it down just enough so that the feeling of rush leaves you. Saunter. Take more time to get there. Late? Who cares. You got there didn't you?

Today is Sauntering Day. Seems fitting for a Saturday, but how many of us actually use the weekends to decompress anymore? Between shopping, sports, family gatherings (now that's relaxing), weddings, parties, bbqs, left over work, dog parks, kids... what can be more compressed than trying to get an entire weeks worth of life in to two days? I think to my family to the south. The weekends are when there is less help to assist with two beautiful but oh so young babies that require much help. On top of which are the social engagements and other family needs. Weekends in that home are busier than the week days. Sauntering is so very out of the question on most Saturdays, and I'm certain that today will be no different than the other 51.

For me, I work every second Saturday. There are only 26 weekends for me to utilize so I have to fit in two weeks worth of life outside of work in to a single weekend. Thankfully, I have a 3-day weekend to make up for it, but seriously? This makes for a busy weekend. Good thing I stopped worrying about the clock. I'll get there. I'm sure of that much, I just won't be able to tell you when.

There was a king of laze... Mr. Garfield (the cat). Seemed this was a feline that had the whole sauntering thing figured out. A good scratching post is only made better by having it brought to your claws. And if you need to get somewhere... relax. Take your time. Either you will get there, or there will be brought nearer to you. Suppose there is a good reason today is also Garfield the Cat Day. Celebrate your inner Garfield. Wait for the scratching post to come to you. As the saying goes... Good things come to those who wait.

Titleless Men in our Lives

2010-06-18T05:45:00.001-07:00

Friday, June 18, 2010 - There are many reasons to hold a month in celebration of Men. After all, if there wasn't an International Men's Month, how would you know it's time to stroke egos and praise the crooked curtain rods? Seriously, International Men's Month is a good time to send a card to the chairman of BP and tell him how we are so happy a man is in charge of stopping the spewing oil and the cleanup of the gulf after all, the "small people"¹ will be thankful when they see the great work BP will do to clean up their screw ups.

So tell me, in a world that has been, and likely will be for many more generations to come, focused on the success of men, why do we need a month dedicated to men? Do we need a month dedicated to ignorance - Bliss Month? How about a month dedicated to stupidity - What the Hell Month Is It? Or we can skip the bull and go straight to Screw Up Royally Month. Oh wait, BP has already done that.

There are thousands upon thousands of oil pouring in to the Gulf of Mexico, and there are fish, reptile and fowl washing up dead, dying or in serious distress. The men of BP are spouting off bad crap as fast and furious as their well is spouting crude in to the waters of the gulf. I don't mind celebrating men as a month, but can we be selective of which men we will celebrate? Cause the BaPhoons are not on my list.

How about we celebrate the fathers and brothers that have helped shape the world. There are the men we rely on - husbands, boyfriends, friends - that will never truly understand how much they are appreciated and needed. We could celebrate them. We could call June a month of treating those men in our lives who provide deep meaning and valu with honestly and understanding. I am a fortunate girl indeed. There are two men in my life who fill very special places in my life. One is my best friend. He provides me a family to which I go home and married a woman who has become the sister I never had. Together they have given me two beautiful girls that fill the role of my nieces and give me the chance to be an aunt. The other is a relationship that to my, defies description. Hi is my brother. A best friend and a confidant from whom I have nothing to hide. He is the one person in my life to whom I will openly admit my faults, mistakes, and all the bullshit that I keep solidly bottled up from everyone else. He sees me cry, pout, shine, laugh and admit defeat. As a unit, the three of us are joking the "id" the "ego" and the "superego." A cohesive unit of three very different people. These are the men in my life that I choose to celebrate for International Men's Month. Perhaps there is much more to the concept of International Men's Month. There is Father's Day.... self descriptive. But what about the other men in your life? Is there anyone who has helped shape you, or is there for you when you are certain there really isn't anyone there at all? Not your husbands or boyfriends, not the great philosophers or inventors, and not your fathers - but the other men who are sometimes left on the periphery. These are the guys in our lives who don't have a special day, because they are there all the time. They get a month.

Today is also Go Fishing Day. This year I don't recommend casting a line- god knows how many crude oil balls you might catch. Instead, thinklong and hard before complaining about the rise in the cost of freshseafood and the lives that will be affected by this spill and find. I caught afish once, and I didn't know what to do once it started flopping abouton the dock in a panic. My cousin threw a rock at it until it ceased to panic - and live. Now the BP Chair and CEO... they should not get a month, or a day, or even an hour. What they should get is tied to a pole out in the surf of the Gulf, and for every fish, fowl, plankton, or living thing harmed by their lack of concern for the "little people" those same little people should get to throw a rock at them. It's a little like fishing. Perhaps the Muslim extremists were on to something after all.

1. BP Chairman - gafaw.

Celibate with a new Mate...

2010-06-17T22:44:00.000-07:00

Wow... I know I don't write much any more, but looking back at how long it's been, I can understand if there isn't a soul left reading this blog. I mean seriously, why bother? It's been what?.... 17 months (since I wrote)? Ok, maybe not that long but it might as well be.

I was working the other night with my team - who I have to say is the greatest team to work with. We got to talking about it being Celibacy Month and the question was... why a month? I mean seriously? Even virgin teenagers don't last an entire month once the hormones kick in - unless they've signed a celibacy contract and event then, they will be doing well if they push 2 months. Admit it... we were all (or are) teenagers once and who the heck could concentrate on subjugation or convergence? Well, unless you were subjucating someone worth converging with that is. So... ultimately, I starting thinking about this blog and how much I miss writing even if only for myself.

So... June, or what is left of it, is Celibacy Awareness Month. There are many people who choose celibacy, if only to appease the parental units. There are those who do not choose celibacy, but are living proof that sex is the cause of life, but not required for life. There are those who choose to be celibate in spurts... the Serial Celibater (The Dry Cereal Aisle?) There are those who are celibate in spurts not by choice but by circumstances (single in the Pacific Northwest), and those who are celibate by marriage (still married after 6.8 years).

The need to call it Celibacy AWARENESS month seems a little redundant. Trust me, if you have been celibate for any lenght of time, either by choice or by circumstance, you are well aware of the fact that you are celibate. Now celibate by definition is one who abstains from sex¹. There is nothing in the definition to state the cause of such an absention, nor is there any implication of the motivations for celibacy. So can celibacy be an affliction that is caught like a disease? And other than divorce, is there a vaccine for that?

June is the time of the year when the days are longest and the Vitamin D absorption is at a yearly high. June is a time of warmer weather and smaller clothes, the start of summer vacation and the end of the school year. It's a season ripe for meeting up with new people and meeting new mates. Hormones are at an all-year high. So tell me... why is it that June also plays host to Meet a Mate Week (June 14 - 21). Seriously? When you meet a new mate, are you really going to want to tell them over a cocktail in a loud bar, where you run the risk of a quiet moment in the music, to yell that you have committed to celibacy? There will be plenty of time for celibacy later. Hit the 7 year itch mark, and you'll be lucky to not be celibate (and not by choice). Sadly, there is not yet a vaccine for that. There is a little blue pill.......

1. Dictionary.com definition http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/celibate

Wrap This Up

2009-12-25T04:48:00.001-08:00

Friday, December 25, 2009 - Christmas. Hanukkah. Kwanzaa. Festivus. Whether you celebrate or not, it's hard to not feel that the air is different at this time of year. People are harried, frustrated, and feeling a tad guilty about not feeling the warm giving spirit that shouldn't be reserved for merely one day a year. Yet, year after year, we let what we haven't done or that which we have not finished dictate how prepared we are to celebrate friends and family.

I propose that this year, the only things you are allowed to think about are all the things you accomplished. This list might include the thanks you gave someone for a job well done - that was deserved, timely and genuine, or the bag of chocolate balls you pulled out of a red bag for your colleagues at the end of their shift after having to work Christmas eve. That might not seem like a big deal - but those chocolates were from the heart. Those little things that are from the heart is the source of that warm spirit to which we are meant to be striving. So how come the things we remember are the cards we didn't write and mail, the gifts I didn't find/buy/fight over, and the flowers I didn't get for friends? You know that saying - don't sweat the small stuff - I think it could be re-written for this season.... don't sweat the sMALL stuff. Get out of the mall, and get in to your loved one's lives. Find out what really makes them remember the holidays. Odds are, it won't be the gifts but the time spent together. It won't be the card they didn't receive, it will be the phone call (takes more time and effort than writing your name).

This year - I did find a perfect gift for a few people that are important to me. The one thing they all have in common is that they are all related to spending time together. It is a gift that doesn't require ribbons, wrap and bows. I won't get tape stuck to everything (and it's self... geez I hate that). I won't worry about the size and I'm not concerned about the colours it comes in this season. I won't torture myself worrying that mum already has one - doesn't use one, want one or otherwise not like. My gift this year to everyone is about spending a little time together, engaged in what is going on in their lives. This is a gift I don't need to pre-order... just schedule and be present. That is a present. No stress, no muss, no fuss.

So if I could just get past the fact that I haven't mailed out my cards.....

Ok... maybe a little guilt. Merry ho ho ho to everyone, whatever your holiday might be. If the cards didn't get out this year, they just didn't get out. Pick up the phone. Trust me - they will remember it longer and with warmer thoughts than a bit of dead tree and some mashed up vegetables for colour.

Wrap That Up

2009-12-17T05:18:00.001-08:00

Thursday, December 17, 2009 - What would the holidays be without those gifts you open and ooh and ahh over publicly, while inside your brain is going a hundred miles an hour with questions. Those questions go something like this:

"What is it?"
"What were they thinking?"
"Who can I give this to?"
"How often am I going to have to put this out on display?"
"Oh crap, now I have to invite them over to see it"
"What the heck am I supposed to do with this?"
"I wonder what store it's from? Do they need receipts?"
"I hope I have a box to put this in."

Today you can go ahead and re-wrap that fabulous gift. It is Re-Gifting Day. The one day in the year where giving away the gifts you just couldn't understand. What this does mean is that it is NOT ok the rest of the year. Have you been storing those gifts for just such a day as today all year? Get out the cellophane tape and bows and get those gifts in to the hands of someone else who may not understand the gift. And if that same gift ends up in the hands of another by late tonight - that is one hell of a way to celebrate. If you are one of the lucky few who has not ever received a gift you couldn't explain, than perhaps you can help someone else celebrate the day. Go ahead and buy a special someone one of those kitchen gadgets with which Julia Child herself wouldn't know what to do. How about a sweater covered in Reindeer and decorated trees? Better yet, a blue sweater covered in Dreidels and Menorahs is the perfect gift - especially for your Muslim and Buddhist friends.

The malls are really out there to support you at this time of year. Every mall is full of Kiosk vendors selling everything from walking tripod speakers and lambskin g-strings to age defying hand creams sure to grow your nails and increase your grip strength. There has got to be a gift to re-gift available for you there. There is this kiosk in a mall near where I work. Just inside the mall there is a kiosk past the lotto centre (probably the busiest vendor in the mall) that seems to be selling that miracle hand cream of which I speak. I'm terrified to try one of their free samples. The woman who works the kiosk has black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, and very black lashes - at least I hope it's makeup - but you can see her very very black eyes from across the mall. If it is make-up, it is a shame that she hadn't re-gifted it.

Chocolate Covered Misery

2009-12-16T23:42:00.001-08:00

Wednesday, December 16, 2009 - Writing, it appears, is something that I have lost the desire to continue. I made a promise to keep writing, both to myself and to the four people who read this drivel, and failed. So yesterday, a colleague commented that they had read my blog. Honestly? I didn't think anyone was still reading this, and so I stopped writing. The fallout of that conversation is this post. I make no promises that this will be the first of many. I will also not promise this is my swan song. This is instead, a commitment to myself to do something I enjoy again.

I believe that is an admission that I enjoy writing. When it got to be too much it was really around the time that I was also spending large parts of my working life writing. I suspect that if this blog became a paid column, I would bet it would no longer hold interest for me. Of course, that's a little like sugar coating the obvious. When you put a price on something, the intrinsic value drops.

This festive season - Hannukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Festivus (for the rest of us) - is really weeks of sugar coating. We spend time with family we will only spend time with because of the holidays. We buy gifts we wouldn't normally buy. We spend money we have not yet earned (love that credit), and we spend the next few months juggling our other responsibilities to pay for it all. But, we do it for the love of the season.

Hell, this season really seems to be about stress, frustration, crowds and excess pressure. Parties are supposed to be fun times, but often we go to the holiday gatherings because we are expected to attend. We bring hostess gifts, and a bottle of something to dull the pain - or dull the stress. Just be glad it isn't socially acceptable to bring what people are often really feeling at this time of year. Chocolate covered loneliness is hard to put in a box. Dark Chocolate Exhaustion is especially hard to wrap. I'm fond of yogurt covered raisins, but these too are only junk food in disguise. Sugar coated fruit so to speak. Oh hell, it's in theme. Today is Chocolate Coated Everything Day.

I know this isn't the most festive of prose, but it is my right to write. Yesterday was the Bill of Rights Day which really gives us all the ok to say whatever it is we want to say - and you can say it any way you want. That being said, we also have the right to bear arms, so if I really don't like what you're saying... your right to life, liberty and freedom is not yours. I don't know how you coat that in Chocolate.

Rainbow Warriors... Under Hats.

2009-09-14T22:50:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, September 15th - Vancouver is known around the world as a livable city and a great city to visit. Of course we're also known as a city full of "Tree Huggers", "Dope Smokers", "Granola Crunchers", "Butt Munchers", and "Liberal Losers". Well, they couldn't be more right. The average Vancouver'ite loves trees, healthful cereal, a drag of dope, and liberal rights. Vancouver has a very high "Gay Quotient", and in general are incredibly very tolerant when it comes to our gay population.

Today is the Anniversary of Greenpeace. On September 15th in 1971, a group of activists set sail from Vancouver on an old fishing boat in hopes of spreading the word of a green and peaceful world. There is an old joke in Vancouver (and I mean old) that at any time in any pub or bar in Vancouver you will meet someone who will tell you they started Greenpeace. They sailed under a Rainbow Flag, and became known as Rainbow Warriors.

Today, Vancouver is famous for it's Pride Week, and the Rainbow Warriors now wear leather chaps and lipstick. The women are wearing even less. Hey... it's Make a Hat Day. That would cover up one head.

Positive Thinking? Oh Screw It!

2009-09-14T22:29:00.001-07:00

Monday, September 14, 2009 - So yesterday was Positive Thinking Day. That doesn't have much to do with today, but it was enough to convince me yesterday that I could get on top of all the things on my to do list that continues to only grow. One of the things on that list was to open up this screen and get writing again. Well, yesterday I was feeling very positive about this. Now that I have a collection of keys with letters under my fingertips, I am reminded that that whole felling positive thing, ended at midnight.

This isn't the greatest start to my re-activated daily blog. Infact, this is so bad that I wouldn't be offended if I never wrote it again. The day that follows Positive Thinking Day is probably better named Oh Screw It Day. Maybe that is why today is actually Boss/Employee Exchange Day. Yesterday the boss was feeling pretty positive. Today... He's throwing in the towel and becoming a Pion again. I could swap out my job with my boss, but I don't know that I'd want the number of phone calls that entails. Besides, today was my first day off in a while, and yesterday I was so sure I was going to plow through that list. Turns out I answered work calls from 07:30 hrs, answered emails, and generally cleaned up a few things at work. I didn't exchange my job with the boss, but I did exchange my day off for a day of work. Does that count?

What I should have done this morning was shut the phone off, grab a coffee, a cream-filled donut, and a newspaper. Since yesterdays positive thoughts about getting to my to do list didn't pan out today... I should just say Oh Screw It and do nothing. Hey wait... now THAT would be like a Boss/Employee Exchange Day.

Susie B and Amelia both hail a cab...

2009-06-18T01:28:00.002-07:00

Thursday, June 18, 2009 - One turns to the other and says... "You first", but Sally got the ride. Hey... Lame maybe, but today is an interesting day in History. On June 17, 1873, Susan B. Anthony is fined for attempting to vote in the 1872 presidential election. On June 17, 1928, Amelia Earhart becomes the first woman to fly in an aircraft across the Atlantic Ocean, and in 1983, Sally Ride became the first American woman in space.

Having grown up in a world where I really haven't had to experience any discrimination barriers, I can't imagine what a challenge these accomplishments might have been for these women. I have a friend who smashed through a few of those barriers herself in her working life - paving the way for many others to carve successful careers in banking. Without minimizing these accomplishments, I wonder what is so special about Amelia or Susie B doing what seems so straight forward - having an opinion, casting a vote, boarding a plane. What matter is it whether they were male or female? Imagine life for the generations to come... where not only does one's gender not matter, but neither does their orientation, ethnicity, religion...

In some ways, that sounds like a pretty good world. So what will be the firsts that humanity will look back on in 40-50 years that seems uncommonly common to have had a 'first'? Will there be the first human to park a Volkswagen on the moon? VW - FarFrumErde.

Juggling traffic jams with bridges.

2009-06-17T01:23:00.002-07:00

Wednesday, June 17, 2009 - Vancouver is a funny city - full of mountains, beautiful views, oceanic waters, and bridges. Many many bridges. Which also then translates in to a city full of traffic jams and 24 hour Traffic channels. But alas, to alleviate some of the problems, Vancouver has a solution that will help to ease congestion... a new bridge.

Vancouver has had it's share of International attention for their bridges. There was the ill-fated construction of the Second Narrows Bridge. During it's construction, it collapsed and fell in to the Burrard Inlet killing 19 Ironworkers and injuring many more. June 17th marks the anniversary of that collapse in 1958 and today, the Second Narrows Bridge is better known as the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge.

The Lion's Gate Bridge is an historical landmark. Like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Fransisco, the Lion's Gate Bridge is a suspension bridge completed in 1938, one year after the Golden Gate. Both bridges were partially built at the old Dominion Bridge company in Burnaby. The Lion's Gate Bridge made the news again a few years ago, when the entire bridge deck was replaced in a true feat of engineering. It is still only a 3 lane bridge, but the lanes are wider and the view from the bike lanes, now cantilevered on the outside of the suspension wires, is fabulous.

So today, the new Golden Ears Bridge opens officially - though commuters used to bridge today to shave off anywhere from 20-60 minutes off their morning drive. Like the Lion's Gate Bridge, this will be a toll bridge. Hopefully, the toll will only last as long as it takes to pay for the bridge. Of course that assumes the Provincial Government is as honest as the Guinness Family. Seems beer keeps you honest. Once the Lion's Gate was paid for, the toll disappeared. As for this new bridge? I'm guessing that will happen when Pigs learn to juggle.

I'm sure that there are other ways to deal with the massive traffic problems of a City like Vancouver - bound by mountains and water, and a vastly spreading population. How about better transit? Better incentives to carpool? Heftier tolls? Safer bike lanes? Better transit? I'm glad it isn't my issue to fix. There is so very much to juggle... and although it is World Juggler's Day, I doubt it is a day put aside for City Planners. After all, most Planners may have very good ideas, but are lacking the 1000 pound gorilla to get them implemented.

But... if you know a City Planner, how about giving them a set of balls... to juggle. Where did you think I was going with that?

No Blooming way....

2009-06-16T01:03:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, June 16, 2009 - Overheard at an Outback Steakhouse "Mary Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With blue bells, cockle shells, and one big 'blooming' onion." Ok, maybe not, but it could work. As a kid, I had a handful of modified nursery rhymes including Mary Mary here. Jack and Jill were up to no good on that hill, Humpty Dumpty made an excellent breakfast (served with toast), and Little Miss Muffett was a real bitch.

I think about Mary Mary wonder what exactly she was growing in that garden. I'm guessing that if it's vegetables... the onion might come in handy. Of course, dip that same onion in batter and fry it and you have a whole different story. Today there is a new movement underway to eat withing so many miles of home... the 100 Mile Diet says you should only eat that which is close, in season and can be gathered on your own. I am sure this leaves a much smaller carbon footprint on the planet, but if you live in North Western Ontario in January, would your diet consist of Cariboo and SnoCones?

Living in Vancouver, this diet could actually work for most of the year. We live within 100 miles of some of the best strawberries, raspberries, blueberries and corn around. Recent City By-Law changes mean that your neighbour a mere 100 feet away might have chickens (and therefore eggs and legs) in their back yard. As for vegetables... there is no limit to the varieties available at the Farmer's Markets. So now that it is the Veggie Season, Farmer's Markets have become a weekly stop and I have a fool-proof way to be celebrate Fresh Veggies Day.

Each Sunday, I hit a local market and stock up on the in-season veggies from within a 100 mile radius. I conscientiously wash them and store them ready for the week. On Monday, I put together a fabulous salad that becomes that days lunch. On Monday night, I have veggies with dinner. On Tuesday morning I forget to make lunch at all and will order in if I find time to eat. Tuesday night I stay late at work, and grab something on the way home. Wednesday - Friday look remarkably like Tuesday, and on Saturday, I clean the fridge of all the veggies I can no longer eat in order to make room for Sunday's haul from the Farmer's Market. It may not be perfect... but it's a system. Wonder if today will be the Tuesday I eat the fresh veggies? Do potatoes done in hot oil count? Can you really count a potato as a vegetable at all?

The Irish are quite fond of the potato... it works for any meal. Jimmy Joyce's Leopold Bloom probably found the potato to be the perfect I bet you'd be hard pressed to find a pub in Dublin today that isn't serving the potato, mashed, fried, chipped or in stew. Oh heck, it's Bloomsday, skip the blue bells and cockle shells, and go straight for a pint and a blue cheese and sandwich. If you really need a veggie, I recommend the Bloom'in Onion.

Don't let life get in the way...

2009-06-15T21:19:00.001-07:00

Monday, June 15, 2009 - How does it happen that we make claim to a balanced life and yet the scales are heavily weighted to one side? While we're piling things on to the trays of that scale, how do we miss the fact that we've put a pea on one side, and bricks on the other? At what point do you recognize the unbalance in your life and book a tee time?

These may seem like esoteric questions to fuel a conversation but it is more a full out cry for help. At some point in your life you need someone to grab you by the back of the collar and pull you away from the day to day and force you to jump to the other side of the scale.

In the grand scheme of things, I think as humans we all crave the same thing... love, acceptance, belonging... and time to experience all those things away from the office. A balance of work and play, family and friends, asleep and awake - often allude us. Not because we don't seek them, but because we don't have time to seek them out. There is a cosmic irony to our desires and our realities. We may want the same things, but then we also want responsibility and success... which we define as having achieved that balance, but in reality means we work too much to have time to succeed.

Yesterday in Vancouver, several main streets (including Main Street) were closed to traffic to celebrate Car Free Day. Funnily enough, these events were so big, that people drove to these events to celebrate. The side streets and alleys were full of cars parked to enjoy the festivities. They'd have taken public transport but alas, the buses were re-routed because they couldn't get down these main streets either. I get that sometimes to re-balance the scales you have to swing the pendulum to the other extreme... but I sure enjoyed the irony.

And if that isn't enough, today is No More TV Day... as I saw advertised on TV this morning. Now I'm sure there were better ways to advertise this, but honestly, I'm not sure I would have enjoyed the day the same. So today I spent the day looking for the ironies in life. I found the time to write about them, but ironically enough, I was too busy to notice any. Now isn't that just as clear as mud?

Got something to say? Take a drive.

2009-04-17T13:32:00.001-07:00

Friday, April 17, 2009 - Do you remember your first car? Do you remember that moment of freedom you felt when you knew you could just get in your car and go anywhere? Did you find yourself sitting in the driveway thinking "I can just get up and go anywhere I want"? Did you spend the day in the driveway because when it came right down to it, where the heck would you go anyway?

The enigma that is freedom is that often we are more free when we are less free. If you have a structured day, know where you go and when to go and what you will do when you get there takes away the decisions and options that eventually tie you down to stress. Stress surely takes away your feeling of freedom. Freedom is found in the simple things in life. Time in the garden away from people and places that require your attention. There is freedom in reading a book, away from the societal rules and regulations that we have to live within in order to live in peace. Remember when sex was free? Now it comes with the chains of fear of disease, fear of commitment - cause that ain't free, and fear of worse yet... offspring - cause they're not freeing (or free) either.

So what about that first car? The first car in which I sat in the driveway was a Plymouth Fury. It was easily the size of a small ocean liner and it was gun metal gray. It might have given off an air of freedom if it had been out in the middle of Lake Superior. Add a large sail of the aft end of her, and she'd of made it up the St. Lawrence Seaway. There wasn't much freeing about driving old Sherman.

It took two parking spaces and spanned across two parking meters. Parking wasn't free. It was the size of two full sized cars, and used up the equivalent in fuel. Keeping the gas tank happy wasn't free. My friends were driving small foreign cars... Hondas and Toyotas, and the teasing sure wasn't free. If I had been homeless, the two large bench seats would have provided great accommodation - so I guess a home would have been free.

But now if my first car had been a red Ford Mustang Convertible... THAT would have been freedom. The air blowing through my hair... Free! If you are driving in your Mustang today, celebrate your freedom. Today is Ford Mustang Day. Ahh the Mustang... the car with testosterone in the paint. It is possible that this is what they were driving when they said the 'freedom of the open road'?

It's also a great day to ramble off at the mouth... a little like the words on this page... Shoot me. It's Blah! Blah! Blah! Day. Go for it. Prattle on like me. Just keep talking. Talk for the sake of talking. In fact, even if you don't have a point, don't be afraid to spew at the mouth just for the sake of spewing at the mouth. Seriously, just go ahead and verbalize. Use the entire dictionary as a starting point. Heck, pull out your thesaurus. There has to be other ways to say it... find as many as you can and USE them.

So alas, there is the freedom of the open road. Just be sure to stay within the speed limits and follow the rules.

Its just not done

2009-03-02T07:20:00.001-08:00

Monday, March 2, 2009 - I know it's not here yet, because it's not done. It will be a safe bet, the postings to come. It will be a tad late, but what else is new? One often for me waits, and for this you will too....

Polar bears - the ultimate example

2009-02-27T05:06:00.001-08:00

Friday, February 27, 2009 - Polar bears have drawn the short straw. These spectacular animals have ruled the north for centuries, and we are slowly eating away at their kingdom. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for global warming, but I would like to be a little more selective about where we warm.

I hate to think of these majestic bears drowning in the less than frozen waters while they roam hundreds of miles in search of food. If it means ensuring the polar bears have a place to roam, and breed, and feed and carry on, I could always put on a third and fourth sweater. It is International Polar Bear Day. I don't think a day is going to do it for them. Might need to be polar bear decade, or century if we expect them to be around for generations to come.

I have a trivia question for you. What colour is a polar bear's skin? Those large, white, top of the food chain beauties of the north are only white on the outside. Their skin... black. Pretty spectacular animals, and yet, they represent so much of what we should be. They are a blend of gentle and powerful, elegant and rugged, black and white. They are the dichotomies that make them such fascinating animals. As humans, we could learn so much from the polar bear.

The colour of a polar bear on the outside says nothing of the colour under the fur. CNN re-ran the "Black in America" series this week, and I found myself trying hard to understand the separation of black people and white people. Maybe its a testament to my mother and the values she instilled in me. Maybe it's the diverse friends I've always had around me. But I don't understand how anyone can be grouped... identified by... expected to behave in... some stereotypical way that can easily identify one as black, white or other. I've always believed that people live the lives that follow the paths they've chosen. But my eyes have been opened. Seeing just how different the many shades of North Americans are often treated, I'm almost ashamed of being a white female with an education, unlimited opportunities and a family that is always there to support my efforts.

It's a no brainer that what we really need to do is step up and be accountable - everyone - for the way we treat each other. But like all no-brainers... it takes a bit of brain to see the big picture. Small giant, small fortune, big baby, butt head, dim wit, jumbo shrimp, no-brainer... the oxymoron. For in order for something to be a no brainer, you must have had the brain power to figure out the obvious. So when you think of the no brainers in your world today, remember that in it took brains to come to some obvious concusion in the first place. On No Brainer Day... take a lesson from the polar bear. Whether you are black or white, your brains are, after all, gray.

Once Upon a Time...

2009-02-26T04:53:00.000-08:00

Thursday, February 26, 2009 - Once upon a time there was a girl who lived on an island in the Atlantic. She moved to the city one day, and determined that the east coast was not what she once thought it was. Life in the city became one of lights, and sounds and opportunity... so much more than trees and trails. They say you can take the girl off of the island, but you can't take the island out of the girl.

Not a whole lot different from the author, this girl arrived in Vancouver from the East to get closer to family on the Island (this Island is in the Pacific). After a period of time, both the star of our tale and the writer needed to find new opportunities. The island just didn't have the options that the "big smoke" had, and so... she landed in Vancouver. It feels a little like history repeating itself. I headed west after university and landed on Vancouver Island. After a while, I felt the undeniable pull of the city and I haven't left since. Itchy feet strikes every now and again but here I stay.

The girl in the above tale is a reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Moving west has been the North American way. Unless you are A, in which case you move east, then very east, then a tad more east, and then a little less east. His next move will be a bit further east yet again. And here I am in the west. I'll have to weave a better tale around this at some point in the day, for it is Tell a Fairy Tale Day. I think in my tale the girl who moves west, and then a tad east will have wagons and horses and she'll stop along the way and make chili over an open fire. She'll meet cowboys with Colt 45's and pioneers with homesteads and will gain great insight in to the western migration of recent university grads.

For Pete's sake (it's For Pete's Sake Day), this is not the greatest fairy tale I've every told. Oh well, if nothing else, I've managed to include Chili Day and Colt 45 Day in my tale. Hey... there isn't anywhere it says the Fairy Tale you tell has to be good. If you have anything better, feel free to share.

The inconvenience of it all

2009-02-25T05:15:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, February 25, 2009 - Who markets Lent? What happened to truth in advertising? What happened to the three "R's" - Reading, Riting, and Rithmatic? Seems that the 40 days of Lent is actually 46 days - since the Sundays don't count. Go figure. Today is Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. Giving up chocolate and liquor is actually going to be a 46 day drought... not the 40 that was widely publicized. Hmph. That is just not convenient at all. Does that mean it can rain a little on Sundays?

Even religion has a little creative license in marketing. How else do you get people in today's world to fill pews on a Sunday morning? After all, you would have to inconvenience your poker buddies to move the game from Saturday to Friday night. The Birdie Gang would be a bit put out if you had to reschedule your Sunday morning tee time. As kids, Sunday mornings were an exercise in frustration. Instead of sleeping in then running around playing with your friends, you were getting up early, cleaning up and putting on your Sunday best for an hour and a half or so of sitting still with your hands in your lap struggling to stay awake. No easy task, and down right inconvenient. It isn't like you were going to be able to sleep in on Monday. There was a couple hours of sleep lost that you'd never get back.

I think perhaps those early days and the many hours of missed play opportunities play a role in the need for creative advertising these days. After all, if going to church was an inconvenience then, imagine what that must be like today. There's going to have to be a BOGO event or gift with purchase these days. I'm still reeling from the 46 days of Lent including today. That is NOT what I signed up for.

But, today is Inconvenience Yourself Day. I'm not sure what I will do to inconvenience myself, but I'm sure I'll find several opportunites to do just that. Perhaps I'll mis-locate my keys (daily occurance). Maybe I'll put my cell phone down and walk away just when a call comes in (hourly occurance). I might forget my pass card in the car and have to walk back to the far end of the parking lot in order to get in to the building at work (weekly occurance), or leave my office keys at home on a training day and have to turn back to gather them (monthly event). Yup, I'm pretty sure I will find a way to inconvenience myself today. Heck, I won't have to put in an effort. It will just be. Yes L, I'm disorganized. And to A... sure.. I'll put it right where it is meant to be... once or twice. Just not the one time I'm in a hurry. Hey. What can I tell you? At least I'm cute?!

Pancakes and swamp cabbage?

2009-02-24T09:26:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, February 24, 2009 - Tomorrow marks the start of Lent. Christian or not, Lent is an excellent time to take stock of the excess in your life and pick one thing to live without for the next 40 days. Some of us have a real penchant for shoes. Could you give up shoes for 40 days? Would you have to go without shoes or without buying shoes? Either of those could be a real challenge. What about chocolate? Carbs? Sugar? Cake?

Forty days is a long time if you give up something you aren't sure you can live without. So today, on Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake Tuesday if you like, perhaps the notion is you gorge yourself on that one thing so much so that you are unable to face it for the next 37 days, leaving you with just a few days to manage. Really, who among us couldn't live without chocolate for three days? This seems to make the most sense if what you want to give up for 40 days is flapjacks. A trip to IHOP should make the most out of today - and should help insure your inability to look at another pancake until at least April.

The easiest thing to give up might be swamp cabbage. Millions of Americans (yeah sure) will be celebrating Swamp Cabbage Day with a nice hearty bowl of stew. The recipe can be found in "White Trash Cooking". My favourite has to be Uncle Willie's Swamp Cabbage Stew. With celebrations like this, it is no wonder today marks the start of National Eating Disorders Week. A nice big bowl of swamp cabbage and I might give up eating entirely for Lent.

This year for lent I will instead give up being obnoxious. I think the only way I can manage that is if I spend today being unbearable. Perhaps it will be a little like overdosing on chocolate. Bah. Never mind. I'll just celebrate National Obnoxious Day on my own... me and several million other North Americans.

Oh my Dog, that was amazing

2009-02-23T08:40:00.000-08:00

Monday, February 23, 2009 - Email is a funny thing. It's not so funny when your email box is full of funnies, that well.... aren't always so funny. Worse, they are the same recycled, recirculated, retired jokes you deleted from your inbox years ago. This is not to say that jokulation (read: circulation of email jokes) should end, but rather, should be treated as an infection.

Jokulation is somewhat like a disease. It is primarily caught at the office or after the deliver of a new home computer. It starts with a localized event... a funny joke makes it in to one mailbox. Then, like the plague, it spreads to another inbox followed by another and another until soon, it is in every inbox in the office. From there, it can only spread outward beyond the confines of the office. At near pandemic proportions, it is sent to cousin Bill in Ontario, your buddy Robert in Kentucky, and Ron in Whiterock. Soon, they spread it to another and another and another and so on. Now, just one strain of joke is running rampant. But wait. There is more. Tomorrow there is a second joke strain, and another. Soon, there is an epidemic of jokulation and not an inoculation in sight. Unfortunately, it's a little like a mild STD.

There are just some diseases that are fun to catch, and a bitch to get rid of them. Sometimes, the joke strains are new... and really really funny. It's hard to not want to forward them off to particular people you know will get a good guffaw. Those are the times when you are glad there isn't a vaccine. After all, some of those jokes are what fuel your interactions at parties. So without a vaccine, there is no cure. There is only treatment (the delete key).

Today, there was a fabulous jokulation that got in to my mail of a comedian/magician that I can only describe as "Oh My Dog" was that funny. I've passed it along. I only hope I am not patient zero for another pandemic. Unlike this day in 1954, when the first mass inoculation against polo began in Pittsburgh - Salk Vaccine Day - I'm guessing that jokulation can only be treated with a good sense of ha ha.

Oh... my dog doesn't miss out on celebrations today either. It is International Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day. Although I doubt very much I will celebrate this one, Rex has had several biscuits from me, and I'm guessing his dog walker probably treated him to some special home made treats. Oh my dog... what a great day.

When in doubt, order a pizza.

2009-02-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

Saturday, February 21, 2009 - What did people do before this day in 1878 if they wanted a pizza? Did they have to go out and hitch up the horses, pack a small lunch, and cart in to town to get to the local pizzeria? I mean, they couldn't exactly open the phone book and look up the number for Domino's. Until February 21, there had never been a phone book in which to look. So if you are so inclined, help celebrate Phone Book Day by looking up a number... if you have one.

The very first telephone book was issued on this day in 1878 in New Haven, Connecticut. It had a whopping 50 subscribers and was all of one page big. If only the phone book was a mere page today, I'd actually keep one around. With all due respect to those folks who work hard gathering the data, selling the ad space and enhanced listings, and to the phone companies who surely make a few extra dollars collecting advertising revenue for them, the phone books could today go back in time and be issued on a single page. The page could be a nice, flashy full colour publication with a list of a handful of search engines. It would be a far cry from the nine giant phone books that are still sitting in the lobby of this ten flat building. As long as that sheet of paper included a link to Domino's, it would still be a useful publication. Heck, they could even include a link to www.Canada411.com, www.YellowPages.com or www.WhitePages.com. Thinking back, I think the only time I ever used a phone book was to order pizza.

I suppose what throws me even more is that the tree huggers and environmentalists haven't got up in arms about the number of phone books that are still being printed on god knows how many trees, that go from the door step to the recycling bin in under an hour. I haven't brought a phone book in to my apartment in 10 years. Judging by the books still down in the lobby, I'm not alone. That first phone book had a subscription base of 50. I bet if they went to a subscription today, they wouldn't need to print too many more than that.

Did I mention it is also Pizza Delivery Day? If I had a phone book, I could celebrate both in one simple act. And seeing it is also Single Tasking Day...

Cherry Pie Does Not a Dowry Make

2009-02-20T05:19:00.000-08:00

Friday, February 20, 2009 - Vancouver provides a few things of which the rest of Canada only dreams. It is February, and while the rest of Canada and large parts of the US seems to stay in their winter deep freeze, Vancouver has spent the last few days in sunshine and the start of spring warmth. Indeed, the trees have buds, the crocuses have bloomed and there are daffodils in my garden. I should be boasting, but I'm too busy throwing the frizbee for my dog. The news goes on about the depths of winter... and a small pang of guilt wells up in my throat for family in those 'depths'. NOT.

But, for those who are braving the cold, and there are many of you, today is for you. Yes it is Hoodie Hoo Day. It's what? Hoodie Hoo Day I said. At noon today, you are expected to head outside, wave your hands above your head and chant "Hoodie Hoo Hoodie Hoo". This is supposed to chase away winter. I figure it's also a good way to chase away the neighbours, the neighbour's dog, the mailman, the gardener.... Maybe not the gardener. You won't need him for another couple months. And you may not chase away the boys with those stylish white coats that tie up in the back.

Actually, a vacation in a white jacket, perhaps in a padded room would be another way to chase away winter. By the time you come down from the anti-psychotics it will be spring and you will have no memory of the remaining month of winter.

Hell, if that doesn't work, celebrate Cherry Pie Day instead. Settle in with a blanket, a pint of ice cream and a cherry pie. That could chase away the remaining winter blues. And when all else fails, pour yourself a wee dram of carefully selected Scotch Whiskey from the Orkney Islands. In 1472, the Orkney and Shetland Islands were left to Scotland from Norway as part of a dowry payment. Some fine scotch comes from the area so either that was one fine bride, or that was one nasty Norwegian if the only way that marriage happened was with the promise of barrels and barrels of liquor. I think the Scots got the better deal. And to that I toast... Hoodie Hoo.

50 Days and Counting

2009-02-19T06:49:00.000-08:00

Thursday, February 19, 2009 - We are 50 days in to the year. How are your New Year's resolutions holding up? Do you still remember what they were? Did you remember on day 9? Each year I make a resolution that rarely lasts past day 28. I occasionally get 4 weeks out of my resolve to change something.

This year, I resolved to be wrong... once in a while. Put another way, I made a resolution to admit when I'd made a mistake. After all, I don't always need to be right. Right? True to form, by the 29th, I realized I was right. Or so I thought. Yesterday, I was wrong. I had to admit that I erred and I didn't implode. So on day 49... My resolution is still alive. Wahoo. Wait. Crap. Does that mean that next year's resolution will need to be more carefully thought out? From 28 to 49 days really raises the bar for me.

2010 will be the start of a new decade and great care must be taken for decade resolutions. I wonder if I can go 50 days without chocolate? I've given up sugar for lent. I last until late afternoon on Ash Wednesday. It is Chocolate Mint Day today. Will that be the target? That would create a new 50 day marker. It can be done. Really.

It is also International Mother Language Day. My mother language is English. Well, Scots brogue perhaps, but underneath the rolling "R" it is still English. I watch with wonder as friends fall in and out of their mother tongue and English as though they are separate yet inherently the same. I may be able to roll in and out of a bad Scottish accent, but I'm not sure if it counts. Aye, but then ag'in, och they be a feu who canna oonderstan wee Scots. I doubt there is an ESL course for the likes, but I'm certain that would be one entertaining course. Och, ne'r ya mine, Celebrate anyway. Here's tae ye... or should I say hey is Jambo, Gesondheid, Salud, Gezuar, Prost, Topa, Nien Nien, Gan bei, Na zdrai, Skaal, Je via sano, Slainte Mhor, Cin cin, L'chaim, A la sature, Djam, Salute!

Batteries Not Included

2009-02-18T06:21:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, February 18, 2009 - So it's Hump Day. I bet you read that title and think this post is going to run on the hump theme. Nope. It's all about Wednesday. The middle of the work week that says we've past the hump and are on the downward run to the weekend. There are so many things about Wednesday that we should try to remember each and every week. Firstly, it is by far the hardest day of the week to spell. That says it all. Secondly, the morning will drag - it's the last hike to the summit. Lunch time is the top of that mountain. Plant your flag, crack open your bucket, and enjoy your sandwich at the apex of the hill. Thirdly, you have to be sure you've waxed your toboggan, or the ride to Friday will not be a smooth one. Hope that you built a good foundation of work on the way up that hill. The ride down is fast, and if you thought you would get to it later in the week.... too late. It IS later in the week, and I'm betting you are still counting on Thursday and Friday to get it done. I have news for you... it won't get done. You have passed the hump and from here.... weeeeeee!!!!!!

Ok, Wednesday isn't that interesting. There are, after all, 52 of them in a year. Nothing special there. Ah... but to make Wednesday the true apex of the week, today is also Drink Too Much Wine Day. Now we're talking. I bet we'll get to those batteries now right? Nope. Really? You have to work in the morning anyway. How much wine is too much? A glass with dinner? A bottle with appys? Maybe a case with a friend? Everyone has a limit, and I can only hope that if your limits make Thursday painful, you have missed the beauty of Wednesday. Oh well, you weren't going to get anything done tomorrow anyway.

So back to those batteries... since you aren't going to get anything done tomorrow, you may as well take a fresh pack of batteries out of the fridge and charge up your Rock Band guitar. Today is also Battery Day - use them up. After all, you always have next week to get the work done.