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....
Monday, March 2, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Polar bears - the ultimate example
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.
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.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Once Upon a Time...
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The inconvenience of it all
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?!
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?!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Pancakes and swamp cabbage?
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.
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.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Oh my Dog, that was amazing
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.
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.
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