Scars

"All my nerves are naked wires

Tender to the touch

Sometimes super sensitive

But who can care too much?

I get this feeling...

Scars of pleasure

Scars of pain

Atmospheric changes

Make them sensitive again"

I'm an idiot. Wallowing in my own ignorance and my own self described good life I have come to believe and even live by certain ideals that may very well be insensitive and even hurtful to people I care about. I have written extensively here about living without regret..it's almost a mantra with me really. And while I still believe that and will continue to live that way I must sound so bone headed insensitive to some people when I preach my sunny ways. On a long ride along the shores of eastern Nova Scotia with the fall colours muted but still a sight to behold, inlets and coves and heads slipping by only to reveal another magnificent vista just around the next bend, I had my ignorance shown to me in full glory yesterday.

In a case of "walk a mile in my shoes" I didn't realize that maybe, just maybe, my proclamations of living life abundantly and without regret might be insensitive to someone that has suffered loss greater than I can possibly imagine. That maybe I should calm my self down and think about the person I may be saying this to. Stands to reason that not everyone sees life as I might and it stands to reason that I couldn't possibly know what another person is fully going through...I am truly sorry for this.

I thought a lot about "scars" last night and today. The seed planted, without fanfare, when I noticed a few marks on my dining room table that weren't there before. My table was scarred. I looked to my arm with my one good eye where I sport an ugly reminder of surgery years ago. I have numerous scars on my body that have stories attached to them. I'm waiting to go in for eye surgery again to fix some scar tissue. But they all pale in comparison to the scars on my heart. Those aching and sweet mementos from my past that can bring great joy and great pain in a micro second, triggered by just about anything. A scent, a word, a colour. Those are the scars that I am talking about...the ones I may know and the ones I couldn't possibly know in the people around me that cause feelings of deep regret, of deep pain. Not the ones that you can take a lesson away from, a learning opportunity...that's a different beast all together.

"Each emotional injury

Leaves behind its mark

Sometimes they come tumbling out

Like shadows in the dark

I get this feeling...

When I think about all I have seen

And all I'll never see

When I think about the people

Who have opened up to me

I get this feeling..."

I rationalized that I really haven't had traumatic things happen to me. The worse thing that I have had near me was the death of my best friends son. A terrible time and truly all I can say is that I can't even imagine - but this happened to him, my pain was secondary if that makes any sense. Even my diagnosis of a rare and often fatal fuck off cancer thing didn't change my thoughts on the subject. I was laughing and making jokes about it by the time the elevator got down to the main floor of the building I was in. So maybe this outlook has spared me in some way...I really don't know. 

Everyone is going to have their own way of dealing with hard and painful times, their scars will be theirs to own, to live with. And maybe they are too much, too overwhelming, too raw to ever not think of them and be in pain because of them. And than I come along smiling with my no regrets...ugh

While I will continue to live as abundantly as I can, leaving regret aside as much as I can, I hope I can be a little more aware of my surroundings...not so casual in my ignorance.

"I've stood upon my mountaintop

And shouted at the sky

Walked above the pavement

With my sense amplified

I get this feeling..."

Photograph courtesy of my dear friend Marguerite 

The Cedars of Lebanon

Psalm 92

It is good to praise the Lord

and make music to your name, O Most High,

proclaiming your love in the morning

and your faithfulness at night,

to the music of the ten-stringed lyre

and the melody of the harp.

For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord;

I sing for joy at what your hands have done.

How great are your works, Lord,

how profound your thoughts!

Senseless people do not know,

fools do not understand,

that though the wicked spring up like grass

and all evildoers flourish,

they will be destroyed forever.

But you, Lord, are forever exalted.

For surely your enemies, Lord,

surely your enemies will perish;

all evildoers will be scattered.

You have exalted my horn like that of a wild ox;

fine oils have been poured on me.

My eyes have seen the defeat of my adversaries;

my ears have heard the rout of my wicked foes.

The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,

they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;

planted in the house of the Lord,

they will flourish in the courts of our God.

They will still bear fruit in old age,

they will stay fresh and green,

proclaiming, “The Lord is upright;

he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.”

Those of you that know me know that I am, how to put this, not religiously inclined at all. In fact I am pretty much anti religion. So you know that I am not suddenly filled with the holy spirit and have decided to rejoin the ranks of the sheep when I put this Psalm down in this blog. I started thinking about the imagery of the Cedars of Lebanon, or the Cedars of God as they have been referred to, so I went to the source to see what was what with regards to the religious meaning. So here is Psalm 92 for your perusal. 

I have included the whole thing so as to not be accused of cherry picking a line out of context. I think there is more than enough of that already when you can take a line or two and use it as a basis for blowing yourself and a crowded market up in the name of destroying the infidels or attacking an abortion clinic or denying basic rights to homosexuals...more than enough. 

I've read through this a few times and I have to say it pretty well encapsulates what I think is wrong with religion in general. Blind acquiescence, righteous superiority and an appalling lack of plurality. It literally makes me mad to think of people that I know and have known that bandy about their particular "ism" as a way of raising them above the crowd...a massive throat punch here. And to be clear, any "ism" would deserve the wrath of my disdain. This is not simply geared to religious zealots, atheists as well, who seem to believe that their lack of belief in God makes them better than everyone else. 

So while this started as an idea around the beauty and strength in these cedars I got pulled into, by my own self of course, a diatribe on the failure of man trying to convey God. Because that is what religion is to me. Man trying to explain the meaning and purpose of God. How arrogant of us to presume that we can know this. How did we ever get here? Crazy I say. 

But wait. Maybe I can help steer the conversation back to what I wanted to talk about.

In grade four or five I had to illustrate and put words to something in nature. I chose a tree and drew the worst picture ever of a large tree with roots reaching down into the ground. I somehow showed the roots reaching for a pool of water in this picture, badly I am sure as I have never been good with the visual aspects of any artfulness I may have. But the words must have worked because I recall the teacher telling me it almost made her cry. I spoke of the struggle that the tree faced everyday for the simplest and most powerful need to us all....water. 

Those roots sought out life giving water, all the while growing stronger and going deeper, providing more sustenance and more stability, ensuring it's growth and longevity. In turn allowing it's influence to spread, helping the forest to thrive and grow. Purifying the surroundings, fostering growth of other living things and offering protection to others still. The Cedars of Lebanon, the Great Forest of the North, The Boreal Forest, The Rain Forest....we are these things. We men and women can be all these things to our brethren. 

So unlike the co-opting done by the religions of the world we can take back the tree as a symbol of inclusion, of life and of plurality. Not for the righteous but for all of us. Churchill said that "history is written by the victors", well, if this is true, then the chapter around the soul of us all needs a re-write. Not based on winning, as this implies someone losing, but on the simple idea that we are equal and part of this world together. Those roots reaching down as a foundation for us all while the limbs and leaves reach up to show us the beauty around us.

Brought to you by the riot of colour at this glorious time of year right outside your window.

Ciao

D

Dead Poets Society

YouTube is a wonderful invention I must say. It taught me how to trouble shoot and fix a problem with a water pump in my house a few years back, made my mouth water with food porn videos, scratched that itch for the song I wanted to hear and left me blubbering with countless videos that meant something to me. Oh, and made me laugh more times than I could ever relate.

It is also really great for little clips of movies that have been opened up to me, recently one of these being Dead Poets Society. A movie I never saw but will soon enough. Why? Because Carpe the fuck out of that Diem! That's why!

How did I not see this movie? Just from the clips I have seen it is amazing, it is inspirational and it is another example of what I have been saying for some time now...the answers are all out there, all we have to do is hear them, read them and see them. That and Robin Williams is one hell of an inspirational actor.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play 'goes on' and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

At first my thought was to say, damn, I wish I had a teacher like this growing up. Someone crazy enough to throw off all conventions and let it all hang out in the hopes of truly inspiring a mind. Well, I may not have had this romanticized version of it but you know, I did have a few teachers that to this day I would point to as people that have affected me and my life. Profoundly really. People that have helped to point a new direction out, opened the door a crack on a different way of looking at life. I may not have realized it all in the moment but I did figure it all out in the end. And here they are...in no particular order.

Mr Reid: Ah, Mr Reid with the comb over. You were the first person that seemed to sense in me an ability that I didn't know I had. That is to be a leader of sorts. Thrown into a situation that I didn't want I came out the other end as a winner, not as an individual but as part of a team that I was leading. The first trace of the type of leader I have become. I don't know why you did know or even if you knew but today I still think of that time in grade seven as the beginning.

Mr Chiovetti: The gentle giant. The soft spoken intellectual at the crossroads of science and religion. The guy that blasted me in front of the class for mixing solutions that you had painstakingly prepared for a class on saturation or something like that. You spoke about the conundrum of religion and science in a way that still resonates with me. You encouraged me to run and I did, cross country races all over the city. You saw potential and you gently encouraged me to reach for greater heights...the first time I really wrote was in your class. When I graduated with that award, thus ending my time in elementary school, I knew it was you that had given me the accolades.

Mr Raso: The rebel. That picture of you in a long longshoreman's cap and long hair as if you had just landed in Frisco after having pulled a great escape from a whaling expedition firing squad. The social conscience I have began with you sir. Most of us from those days in high school would remember you railing against the oppression in El Salvador and Nicaragua...and I know today you are still standing up against Drumph and his ilk. Like my father you may be small in stature but taller than all others in passion and conviction.

Mr Cursio: Make it two beers. You were one of the first to show me that you don't need to fit the idea of what a teacher should act like. You allowed yourself to be human and make mistakes. And when you did, you laughed about it. Chefs have a quasi paramilitary reputation out there, fear being a tool to keep the machine going. I am as far from that as you can imagine and a lot of it has to do with your approach to teaching. A ready smile and a story or two that related to what we were learning. How you tied in electronics to your escapades at the cottage I do not know but you did and it worked.

Chef Mike McFadden: Nobody could hang a primadonna moniker on you despite your speciality being a pastry chef. Unlike so many other pastry aficionados I have come across you had the chops in every area of the kitchen. If I had a question about anything I came to you, you seemed to know it all. From your time in Switzerland making rosti potatoes by the hundreds to your time at Expo. You have the wisdom and temperament that made you stand out from the pack, your skills were the icing on the cake. 

Writing these has allowed me to think of other teachers that have influenced me as well, to varying extents and than I realized that that's the point. We are not one person so of course it stands to reason that we would have many influences. Those have shaped, cajoled and directed us into the people that we have become. Mr Shoreman and his "out damn spot" soliloquy. Ms Shanahan and her direction and encouragement with my independent study that I stretched my brain for. Chef Donadio, who brought me on as his assistant and let me do what I needed to do to become his right arm. Ms Mamon (who I called mom a few times), for being the only teacher that seemed to understand the difficulties I was having when I switched in the Catholic system.

Maybe Robin Williams character in the movie is an amalgam of many teachers. Wrapped up together and given the starring role in shaping a life. Regardless, that noble and vital calling is calling to me again...I hope I can once again step into that world with the honour and opportunity to perhaps shape a mind for the future. In the mean time, thank you to all my 'teachers'.

I miss Robin Williams

Ciao

D

Loyal is as Loyal Does

"One never knows how loyalty is born"

An interesting quote from the show Mad Men that highlights the idea that we really don't know what's coming for or at us. Chance encounters and unexpected circumstances sometimes lead to wonderful things. Where loyalty will come from and in what manner and how it shows itself are fascinating thoughts to ponder.

The loss of loyalty is easily connected to trust and betrayal. Whether in a relationship of the romantic kind or the platonic kind, what does it really matter after all, it's hard to think of something worse then betrayal when discussing relationships. I'm sure we have all had our fair share going both ways...it's not a pretty thing is it?

I consider myself a loyal person. Staunchly so. The fact that I am loyal to those that are loyal to me is easy, that's the way it should work. But I work in a world where personal integrity matters as a badge of honour. Along with your willingness to suffer through pain and injury while holding up your end of the line. I'm sure it's like that for many people as we don't have the market cornered on integrity or loyalty, but like the military or any team environment with intensity I do think there is more expected in return for that degree of allegiance. It never seemed to be as important when I watched other departments of the less intense type function, on the contrary there seems to be an almost gleeful excitement in knifing your fellow employees in the back. Loyalty being replaced by fealty to one person as opposed to one team. Your fortunes being tied to the fortunes of another persons whimsy and conniving. You can imagine my response to this skulduggery...throat punch much? Having it foisted upon me on a few occasions I can tell you that it is completely tiring and completely counter productive to the smooth running of an operation. Sometimes you simply have to endure.

While the picture I just painted is a negative one this thought certainly is not. I have seen first hand on numerous occasions the benefits of properly based loyalty. Be it with an individual or an entity the world seems a little less onerous when you have a loyal group of people to go to war with. I suppose that is why the military goes to such pains to instil it amongst its young shaven recruits. I have been part of amazing teams that were completely "all in" with the group and we accomplished great things together. And, sadly, I have been on teams that could't punch their way out of a wet paper bag because of the lack of cohesion and trust amongst them all. It's a vicious cycle that does so much more harm than can be appreciated....literally sucking the will to live out of you. But even here, whether out of shared camaraderie or simply like minded people coming together, loyalty has been born. Out of the ash heap of dysfunction grew trust and kinship. I'm sure my more predominately positive approach to life plays here and I am glad it does...the thought of living like a bitter old miser wondering who was coming to stab me in the night seems almost unbearable.

There are no cryptic messages here, I simply say it how I mean it. Loyalty is intrinsically related to honesty as it is to trust so simply be honest and open. I wish more people were like that, it just feels like we would be a lot happier that way if you know what I mean. Like any relationship it doesn't need to be so hard. So full of things that really need not be there. Of course there is a good to better chance that I am full of shit and have been dropped on my head too many times but there you have it.

Peace unto you
Ciao
D

A Better Way?

I'm not an economist, a policy expert on fiscal and social matters or even someone you should listen to. I'm just a guy with an opinion. OK, maybe more than one opinion but for the sake of this post today I'm talking about one thing.

The idea of a basic universal income has been kicking around for a while now and even tried out to some small degree as pilot programs and interesting experiments in social policy. Let me give you my ill informed opinion on the subject.

I say do it. And I say go all in while we're at it. Without facts and figures or even an idea on how it would all work out, allow me to strip the idea down to the basics as I see it. Certainly I will be missing things and possibly even large things but that means a thorough investigation by qualified people is needed.

This is what I propose, everyone over the age of 18 gets a guaranteed monthly payment, let's say $1200 a month. It doesn't matter if you work or not, here's $1200. If you earn over say $150,000 a year you're not getting the money. To help balance out the ledger, we remove EI, Child Tax Benefit, CPP, and probably most types of social welfare that are as diverse and cumbersome as this great country is. I don't how that all washes out but I would wager it's not as far off as some might believe. Maybe, like CPP, the employees make contributions to the system that funnels into an investment fund to help pay for it over the long run. A social investment and dividend if you will.

To my thinking this is what I see:

• Reduction is bureaucracy, both the cost associated with running multiple programs and the headaches in dealing with it on multiple levels
• Reducing, if not eliminating the stigma and shame that many people must feel when forced to deal with essentially begging for money. Justifying to some drone the reason why you lost your job or why you can't afford to feed your kids, as if that wasn't enough of an issue already. Why are we compounding it? This seems much more dignified
• An injection of capital into the economy
• An injection of capital into the social fabric of our society
• Peace of mind

I know opponents will say how do you pay for it and how about people milking the system, rewarding lazy people and so on. Well, let me say this about that: You pay for it by paying for it. If we decide as a society that we feel like this is the right thing to do, to help each other out and to restore some dignity to peoples lives then we will figure out a way to make it work. A path will become clear once you decide on the destination.

There will always be a percentage of society that will take advantage of or milk a system to their own benefit. It doesn't matter what you have in place. So that's a wash as far as I'm concerned. This isn't about crib to grave socialism, which in some ways we already have...it's about making the system more efficient and actually doing some good. The quagmire of programs can be made more user friendly and manageable if we simply move in that direction.

Alarmists amongst you will decry the end of life as we know it, claim the communists have taken over and tear our country into two. Much like people argued when universal healthcare came in. You know what? We're still here and envied around the world my many that think we finally got something right. Is it perfect? No, of course not. But I don't worry about having to go to the hospital for a kidney stone and declaring bankruptcy after the fact because of it. So that's not bad, right? Maybe, just maybe we are ready for a huge shift...a momentous change in our lives.

We are already paying money in vast sums to people but I think we do so inefficiently. And we do so while tearing down dignity. The system can be better. We can be better. I'd truly like to see a cost comparison study. A full account of the ramifications. Pros and cons. But please, strip out the political double talk and ideological clap trap. I'll call you out for it and may even show you the business end of a 2 by 4.

You want to hear something funny? Coming out of high school, Ayn Rand and small "c" conservatism as my political stripe and an entrepreneurial bent already being fomented you wouldn't think I would have turned into a bleeding heart liberal as I have. I've always had a social conscience and my conservatism stemmed from the idea that laissez faire was the way to go for the world. Over time though I have come to think as I do now. We are our brothers keepers and sometimes people can't pull themselves up and in the end, right is right. So while I do believe in the individual reigning supreme we must consider this within the context of humanity....we all share this little blue dot in space.

Ciao

D

Words

Earlier this year when looking around for someone to do my tattoo I ended up in a recommended parlour speaking with a rather large heavily tattooed bearded guy about my idea. I wanted "no dress rehearsal, this is our life" as my first and maybe only tattoo. I didn't care for his response. He suggested that I should think of those lyrics and what they mean to me and come up with a visual that represents what that may be. At first I thought, OK...let's see if that is something I can do, even enlisting a few people to brain storm ideas. It didn't take long for me to throw that idea out the window because in the end, the words matter...that was the whole purpose of my decision to permanently mark my body. For a few years I have thought about a tattoo but could never come up with something that made any sense to me, nothing that truly resonated with me, until on a first date with someone that has now become a close friend and she talked of her idea for a future tattoo, song lyrics that meant something to her. Of course! A quote makes complete sense...duh!!! Words matter.

Which leads me to something that I came across today, actually just a minute ago. It was that much of a thing that I sat down to write this immediately. The question is this: If every word you ever said showed up on your body would you be more careful with your words? My first thought, after the initial "hmmmm", was that that's a lot very small print, nobody would be able to read it without a good magnifying glass. And boy I do use the word fuck a lot. Truth is, my gut reaction is to say that no, I wouldn't...this is me, like it or leave it I am going to be honest and if it is uncomfortable for you, the reader, well stop reading. And that magnifying glass is burning my skin so get the fuck away from me. If anything comes from this blog, for me personally, is a reaffirmation of the idea that this is who I am...I like me and I have no regrets. But maybe not having regrets is not about being careful with my words. In other words, thinking before speaking.

I'll admit that on occasion I have spoken without thinking, maybe a few more times than I care to think about. OK, you wouldn't think I was that flexible to be able to put my size 13's in my mouth the way I do. But I do. To be honest I think that might be part of my charm, the "oh honey, you're so pretty" moments when the mouth simply out paces the brain. My own naivete coupled with my fast mouth make for some stupendously stupid comments from time to time.

The flip side of the coin is the idea that I say things that might be hurtful to the listener because I didn't fully appreciate what they might hear. Knowing your audience is good advice. It is a rare time that I say something to deliberately hurt someone, not that I don't have those thoughts, I do...plenty of them, but I don't often verbalise them to that person that my malice is meant for. Not anymore at least, one of the benefits of growing up a bit. But I have said hurtful things to people, I know I have. It doesn't matter if sometimes they were taken the wrong way, or I didn't articulate what I was trying to say or any other excuse that might be available, the end result Is that I have hurt people. I may not have meant to hurt you but I did, and for that I am sorry.

So maybe I would be a little more careful in the words I say if they ended up scrawled across my body, a permanent and visible embodiment of how my mind works and what comes from it. Not changing the essence of me but acknowledging that words matter, especially the ones that I whisper and scream.

Ciao
D

The Brothers Blue

"It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark... and we're wearing sunglasses."

"Hit it."

If you know this quote as well as the back of your hand, we can remain friends...if not, go now to Netflix and watch The Blues Brothers and enjoy the ride. Come back as friend again.

"We're on a mission from God."

They really are. Maybe in the movie it was to save the fat penguin's orphanage but to me it was about introducing me to the music. Throw in the ridiculous and downright zany slapstick humour and you have, in my humble opinion, one hell of a great movie. Racing through the streets of Chicago in their bargain basement reformed cop car with cop tires, cop motor and cop shocks, lovingly known as the Bluesmobile, they elude the law, Illinois Nazi's and by the end of it all, seemingly, the entire US Army, in an effort to raise $5000 to pay the tax bill for the Saint Helen of the Blessed Shroud orphanage.  Aaron Sorkin it is not but holy hell is it ever funny.

And than the music. Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Cab Calloway, John Lee Hooker and James Brown to name a few. How could it not be great. From James Browns Reverend Cleophus singing the Old Landmark and shuffling like only he could shuffle to Ray Charles getting us all to shake our tail feather. From Aretha Franklin demanding respect to The Blues Brothers themselves giving everybody some love. 

"Your women. I want to buy your women. The little girl, your daughters... 

sell them to me. Sell me your children!"

This movie was about excess from the get go, why crash one car when you can crash 75 of them? Why use a gun when you can use a rocket launcher to kill the man that left you at the alter? It's completely silly to think that two sunglasses wearing ex cons would need every cop in Chicago, a SWAT team as well the US Army with a tank to take them down but they pull it off because you know they are on that mission from God. That and trying to run over the fucking Illinois Nazis endears them to us all. You want one more song, one more zany twist...hell you want twenty more.

"We're so glad to see so many of you lovely people here tonight. And we would especially like to welcome all the representatives of Illinois's law enforcement community that have chosen to join us here in the Palace Hotel Ballroom at this time. We certainly hope you all enjoy the show. And remember, people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there're still some things that makes us all the same. You. Me. Them. Everybody. Everybody."

For me, it's a kind of escapism that really presses all the buttons. Music, first and foremost, that hits the right chord. Being a rocker by nature anything blues related, the mother of rock 'n roll, is sure to grab my attention. As has happened often enough, being exposed to a, new to me, genre through a movie or TV show opened the doors to further exploration. I remember when I was learning to badly play the bass I had a blues instruction record that I learned to play to...I really enjoyed those impromptu jam sessions that were based on some simple chord progressions that even I could understand. Simple and complex...and pure.

And than the comedy. Not at all nuanced, it is right there in your face all the way through. Both ridiculous and zany but delivered with such dead pan perfection. Who good forget this piece of diner gold as Jake and Elwood looked for Matt Guitar Murphy and Blue Lou to rejoin the band.

May I help you boys?

You got any white bread?

 Yes.

I'll have some toasted white bread please.

 You want butter or jam on that toast, honey?

 No ma'am, dry.

 Got any fried chicken?

 Best damn chicken in the state.

 Bring me four fried chickens and a Coke.

 You want chicken wings or chicken legs?

 Four fried chickens and a Coke.

 And some dry white toast please.

 Y'all want anything to drink with that?

 No ma'am.

 A Coke.

 Be up in a minute

All rock musicians today owe a debt of gratitude to those that came before them, the ones that took the blues electric, added drums and amplification...you stand on the shoulders of those that fell in love with the blues and made it their own. There is almost a purity to the music and I owe my appreciation of it to this little movie...not to mention, in no small part, my sense of whacked humour.

Hit it

Ciao

D

Tick Tock

Well, another day, another milestone. Today was spent with my youngest daughter accompanying her around the campus of Kings College for an open house and early admission. She hasn't fully decided on which path she will take but it looks like she will start at Kings before moving onto Dal...time will tell in the end but here are her first steps into the next chapter of her life. Such an exciting thing to be a part of as a parent.

While we sat through the normal sales pitches and student accounts I thought about how we were both looking at the day from different perspectives. She's nervous, probably a little terrified at what is coming down the mountain at her...the whole adulty thing. While she is thinking about how much reading and essay writing she will have to do compared to her high school studies and wondering if she can manage it all, I'm thinking about the wonderful opportunity in front of her and how I wish I could simply go back to school just because. Perspective here my friends.

And then a professor got up to do a short lecture on the Odyssey, which was really interesting for me. Not only for the subject matter but for the interpretation that he brought to the table. You see, I never went to university and I have always felt like I missed something important to the education of me. The exposure to an entire world of literature is one thing, the opportunity to discuss, debate and have my mind opened to new ideas is what I am talking about. Critical thinking. It's a thing.

Next came a journalism prof talking about the "gods" of today, corporate interests, politicians and celebrities that vie for our attention while using us up like so many disposable napkins. Interesting again, he related the previous talk on the Odyssey to todays world and how journalists play a vital role in informing the public. I was loving this. I leaned over to my daughter and told her that maybe I would like to sit in on her classes sometime...you should have seen the look of horror on her face. So you know I will be going at some point.

I started to think about how experience shapes our view of what we are doing, seeing and reading. My daughter is seventeen and I am nudging fifty, of course, our experiences are going to colour the view of the prism we look at the world with. This talk of the gods brought to mind a quote from the West Wing and Aaron Sorkin, who was quoting Oscar Wilde who was probably quoting an Italian proverb...and I now quote here.

"Quando dio vuole castigarci ci manda quello che desideriamo." 

"When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers."

Which got me thinking about the laugh the gods must be having with Drumph in office. I guess that's a roundabout way to critical thinking or as I like to call it, my tangential brain. A "what if" moment comes to me here, what if I had gone to university? What if indeed. Who's to say really but just thinking about that road not taken is an exercise in opening the mind a bit.

As a side note, at the end of the day we gathered in a lecture hall for the final message and notices og acceptance and lo and behold, the dean of students got up to sppeak and he could easily pass for Aaron Sorkin...hilarious.

But back to the point at hand. That ticking noise in the background is the passage of time for another significant day in the life of my daughter and in mine. I'm not ashamed to say I teared up, again, at the significance of the moment. Shyly and with some trepidation she will be venturing out into the world. Discovering new things, making new friends and taking even more steps into the future....you're going to be just fine sweetie. And daddy is always here if you need something.

Ciao
D

Me Too

Many years from now, while resting comfortably with either the cliffs of Santorini or the hills of Tuscany outside of my window, I will reflect on much as my life comes to its inevitable conclusion. I think maybe it's an inescapable fact that we do look back on the measure of our lives. For me, I'd like to think that I will go out as Don Corleone did, with "life is so beautiful" on his lips. Living life fully and completely whenever possible means embracing what it means to be human..if we do so than maybe we can go out as the Don did.

What will I think of? Everything of course. No different than I do today. At any given time any number of the multitude of boxes that are in my brain are getting shuffled around for, at the very least, a cursory thought. It's simply the way it is, barring dementia or Alzheimer's, why would any of that change? The battles won and lost, the body of my working life and the experiences that I have gained from it, my loves, my people and of course, my kids.

Ah, my kids. My wonderful brood. The very best of me. On those last days I know I will find myself thinking of their lives and the part I played in being their father. Did they grow up into the people I imagined them to be? Did they find their happiness? Did they live with passion? Were they good people? And that's what I want to speak to...good people.

Making the rounds on social media is a campaign throwing light on the scope and scale of sexual assault perpetuated upon women. "Me too" is simply the women of this world letting it know that they too have been assaulted. No details other than saying, yes...me too. I am shocked and yet not really surprised anymore at the breadth and width of this. Friends near and far, friends of friends, family...men, what we do to women. It is unbelievable really. Where are the fathers of sons? Where are we as a society that we would prefer to look away than deal with the hard facts that yes, this is happening and yes we are complicit if we stay silent.

As a father of daughters I cringe that they have to go through life hoping they don't get assaulted in some way. What kind of world have we built that that's even a thought? I'm not a woman so I can't possibly relate to the idea of worrying about walking down a street without enduring something, anything, being said or done. I won't try because I don't think I could do justice to the stain that it is.

As a father of a son, well...that's where maybe I can do a little more than offer my unconditional love and support for my girls. I can teach him that there is no way that any of that behaviour would be acceptable. That he must choose to be a good guy personally and also stand up for people when there are bad guys around. "Oh, that's just locker room talk" or "that's just Harvey" are unacceptable and I think that slowly, too slowly, things are being brought out into the light of day to be finally dealt with. There is a lot more to do and all of us are responsible for our parts...it starts with teaching our children what's what. And moving to take away the power that these people have built around themselves as a buffer from persecution. And finally ensuring that they aren't protected by the vagaries of ass hole judges and a system that protects those with money while re-victimizing the women that have stepped up to say no more. These dicks and douche bags can't continue on if we join women to stand up to them.

I have faith that my boy will grow up to be that man, who in turn will pass along his lessons through his life. I have faith that, in time, it will actually become better in a very real way for the women of the world...that the "isms" of our world will fall away so that we can all be treated equally, regardless of gender, race or choices. Wouldn't that be a way to truly pay homage to the idea that "life is so beautiful"....because it should be beautiful for all of us.

Ciao
D

Shit

FUCK YOU CANCER!!!!! Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!!! I know at this stage of my life I shouldn't be surprised that there are more people I know that are battling you, you feckless thug...but it doesn't make it any less painful. You piece of excrement. You fucking bastard of a douche bag scum sucker!

I find myself shaking my fist at cancer again because that's all I can do right now. I awoke to the news that an old friend from high school is battling this scourge. Those overwhelming emotions that are, unfortunately, coming too frequently when faced with the news that someone close to you has that dreaded "c" word as part of their daily life now.

The uncertainty, the fear, the dread. Not only for yourself but for everyone around you. The  unfathomable prospect that a parent might have to face the cruel reality of burying a child. The sadness of a child possibly not having a parent by their side. A spouse facing a life less full because of a missing partner. Every other person in your sphere of life that would be saddened and helpless in the gaze of this menace.

For me and my own experience, what made me most emotionally basket case like was the thought of the "what might be". The fear of not being there for my kids, to see them grow up and become the people they will become. To not have my parents and my sister as constants in my life. The loss of what was to come with my friends and family. I wasn't afraid of dying, I was afraid of losing my future.

This bastard changes you. In some ways for the better as I feel a greater appreciation for the adage that life is too short for this shit. If anything this blog is a testament to that understanding. But it also forces you to face, in a very real way, your own mortality. We all know we're going to die but to have it possibly snatched from you by biology is too much I think. As humans the fight or flight response is inherent, and when you can't run away from something like this you want to fight it. And I think the fight matters in the way we see what we are facing. Attitude matters to how we see the battle going and I do believe that it can affect the outcome. It may not win the day every time but it still does change the equation.

So, for you my old friend and for everyone else that has had to deal with this terrible disease, Let this expletive laced closing bring a smile to your face....you got this and we got you.

Hey, fuck wad cancer! Yeah you you piece of shit, I'm talking to you. Let you in on a little secret that you may or may not know about...you're a fucking asshole!!! Eat a dick. We don't want you here, we don't like you and you smell funny! If you were drowning and I had a life jacket in my hand, I would set it on fire and hold it up for you to watch as your only chance for rescue went up in flames. On top of that I would get 14 inch fire hose and aim it at your gaping mouth to speed the process along while my friends tossed cinder blocks at your head. In short.....FUCK YOU CANCER!!!!!

Heart Songs

I imagine we all have songs that seem to "get us", speak to us on a level that shows an understanding of what we may be feeling or going through at any given moment. Isn't this what makes music the best love affair? Scroll back through these 200 + posts and see how many times I have referenced music. Probably a few.

Lyrics and music coupled together, those little miracles of writing and sound and you have a potent combination that can quite literally lift you up to new heights, take away whatever may ail you or give context and understanding to it. It can turn you on, get your heart pumping in twelve different ways and accelerate your bad decision making gene. Listening to Tom Petty's Running Down a Dream or Iron Maiden's Run to the Hills and without realizing it I'm clipping along at 140 on the 102.  Joni's Both Sides Now, depending on which version, makes me a little more reflective, introspective. Music! It does it all.

No surprise here but Aaron Sorkin wrote something that I thought encapsulated exactly what words and music can do for you.

Words! Words! Words when spoken out loud for the sake of performance are music. They have rhythm and pitch and timbre and volume. These are the properties of music. And music has the ability to find us, and move us, and lift us up in ways that literal meaning can’t.

A number of years back I latched onto a local band, The Trews, because of the song Sing Your Heart Out. It became one of my favourite songs, it reminds me of one of my closest friends, Daveda, and has become mine and my youngest daughter's "song". If I put it on in the car everything stops and we sing it....loudly. Which is all wonderful of course but it also has a simple message that resonates with me all the time. 

You deserve the best, you should expect nothing less

We could live and bless, if you just say yes

And on a night like this, life could change with a kiss

If you don't second guess, and you go with it

Carpe the fuck out that Diem! Settle not. Expect and strive for what you are worth. And be open to that magical moment that a kiss can provide. Hell, this song could be this blogs theme song. Since nobody has written Fuck the Ponies yet I'll take it....see, my brain works funny. 

Don't ask me what my favourite song is, it's simply not possible for me to choose just one. Maybe not even just 20. And why should I? Right now, coming out of the tinny radio in the kitchen is Father Figure by George Michael...great evocative song, one of my favourites? No, but a really good song that paints an image, sets a mood and evokes emotion. And that is not a bad thing.

Whether you sing in the shower, the car or on a stage, when the music fills you up there are few things that feel better and open you up to possibilities as music does.

Enjoy the day

CIao

D

Gratitude

I don't like turkey. You may have heard me utter those words a few times. I just don't. Despite the fact that I make a pretty good bird and my stuffing is awesome, I just don't care for that type of bird. When I was responsible for preparing the bird for family get together's I would grab a bit of dark meat and some stuffing and than move onto the other food I would have prepared. Perhaps a roasted side of salmon, a curry or pasta of some sort...just not turkey. Not my thing.

I attribute this to the fact that I grew up eating anything but turkey. Special occasions were marked with roast pork or beef. Lamb, duck and goose on occasion. Not so much with the turkey, which really joined the repertoire only after I met my ex. Now that I'm single, tomorrow will be a roast chicken and some lamb for me and the boy, since the girls won't eat lamb, and a few accoutrements to round out the meal.

The coming together over food with my small family is important to me, the whole what are you thankful thing will be front and centre. Truly one of my favourite things to do is cook for family, friends and significant others, it's my contribution to showing you how much you mean to me. I don't care for cards and gifts, those are things, breaking bread and sharing a laugh or two is the real treat.

So, what am I thankful for? The usual list would contain things such as my kids, my family, my friends and my relative health. That's the low hanging fruit that anyone can easily regurgitate...Oh, that's not a nice word is it? Like moist. Like gorge. But I digress. Maybe we can be doing a little better with our thanks givings. Allow me to try.

My kids would be obviously at the top of the list. A trio of characters that, literally, every day make me smile. In their own ways they are growing up to be unique, non sheep original people. They are funny, warm, responsible and yet slightly rebellious and smart asses. You can imagine that I would be quite proud of those last two traits, and you would be right, but what really makes it for me is that when they are that way it isn't simply rebellion for rebellions sake, they actually do come with strong beliefs. Their voices will form over time and their message will be clearer and that will be a joy to watch. The smart ass thing is pure me, so while I might bristle a tiny bit at a few transgressions mostly I am charmed by them. They remind me of a certain somebody.

My parents and my sister. What can one say? You're all certifiable and I love you like crazy. My kid sister that still thinks she is smarter than me, what with being a doctor and all, who saved my life and has been there for me on countless occasions....what does one say other than I love you and thank you for everything. Your own problems often take a back seat to those around you, you're giving and kind with pretty much a mirror of my own sarcasm and wit. If we lived nearer to each other we would probably be responsible for people pissing in their pants a lot more along with a few throat punches offered.

And my parents, talk about a foundation to build on. The yin and yang of parents. Smart, hard working, fierce love and just enough of the Serbo/Croatian temperament to keep you in check growing up. I told you once, when I was doped up on drugs in the hospital, that I thought you guys were awesome...wanna know a secret? I always think that. Nothing is easy in this life and you have shown us how to come out the other end, maybe battered and bruised but still loving and loyal.

My extended family; uncles and aunts, cousins and nieces and nephews...while we may see each other only infrequently, relegating a lot of our interaction to Facebook posts, coming back in from the wilderness over the past few years has helped me to reconnect with some of you in a meaningful way. The tribe is a little better off and when something goes awry it's nice to know that there are people in your corner. Sometimes I do wish I was back in the big smoke to be able to see you all a little more...just know I'm not making any freaking turkey OK.

And my friends. My brothers and sisters from another mother. Some I have known for most of my life and some are new found. You know you had a good friendship when you can go months without communicating and pick up right where you left off. Someone very recently asked me if I believed that we attracted the kind of love that we deserve? I wasn't sure if we did at first because, well, sometimes things don't work out. But thinking about it some more I think we get what we need sometimes and often we aren't really aware of what we are getting and why. Those twisty windy roads that mark all our lives are peppered with people that will come and go at various times and I like to believe that I'm better for knowing those people. Just by having them in my life, I am a better person. Some will be there until the end and some will fade away, but they have all contributed to making me, me.

Canada. While I spend a lot of my day dreaming around the idea of living in Greece or Italy for part of the year, I can't imagine abandoning this great country of ours forever. A friend recently returned from Hungary and she recounted a little interaction on a bus with a couple from Israel. When she told them where she was from their response was that she was so lucky to be from here. She agreed. I agree, wholeheartedly actually. 

As Canadians we take a certain amount of perverse pride in not being Americans, we'll watch your shows and visit and wish we had better pricing on electronics and cars but generally speaking we like that we aren't you. Being bombarded by American "culture" and its sheer size and influence hasn't really forced us to assimilate to the way of apple pie and the gun. Thank fuck I say.

The idea that Canadians will self identify when travelling around the world is also one of those perverse pride things. Stick a maple leaf on your back pack and most Europeans will treat you a little bit better than our American cousins. We have, generally speaking, a pretty good image to the world at large. They see us as the kinder gentler version of Americans. We're not crafting our own version of manifest destiny wrapped in poutine and maple syrup. We love it when we kick ass but we're just as happy that people like us simply for being us. We have immense beauty and potential all around us and while we might not have our house completely in order we do get a lot of things right.

For the country where I live, my friends, my crazy family and my almost crazy kids...I am thankful for you all. You challenge me, support me, inspire me and make me laugh. I cannot imagine life without these influencers, these instigators, these people.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all

Ciao
D

Somebody Died Today

I used to like watching the original Law and Order series when I was younger, it was entertaining in a not difficult way to understand and it had some great actors in it, Sam Waterston, Jerry Orbach and Paul Sorvino were great "old school" cops and prosecutors that acted as the moral authority of New York City. And failing that they could punch you in the mouth until you saw things their way. Often paired with young idealistic partners that acted as foils against the old fucks. Like I said, entertaining when I was in my late teens and early twenties.

There was one episode that I remember sticking with me that revolved around a convicted criminal getting his comeuppance with an injection in front of witnesses. And the episode tracked how different characters were affected after being part of the termination of a another human. How they reacted and in particular the ways that I'm sure they never would have expected. Body counts are difficult things to measure.

I always thought it was a really strange thing to want to do, witness an execution. Why would anyone want to sit through the death of another human being. A witness to death. I suppose a family member seeing that justice was done might make sense, but I'm not sure it does. How does more death bring closure? More importantly, how does witnessing that not affect you? We never know what the body count truly is do we?

I say this because we seem to be surrounded by an extra dose of death lately with Las Vegas, the remnants of hurricanes ripping apart entire cities and small countries, the continued massacres going on in far off places that never seem to get the same kind of attention that ones closer to home do. We will wring our hands over gun control and the Drumph response to natural disasters, the world will politicize it all and we will be no closer to offering a sane answer. There is more than one way to count bodies in this world of ours.

And then someone died here at work yesterday, a long time guest that would be in his place at the bar regardless of weather...you knew he was coming in. Passing away suddenly at his favourite haunt sipping his Pepsi and eating his grilled cheese...he was dead before he hit the floor. He was 93 years old.

I think about what kind of life he must have led. I spoke to him a few times over the past few years but only in passing, I truly knew nothing about him. What was his story? What was he most proud of? Did he have regrets? Did he know love? And I'm now thinking of the people that watched this happen, that knew him better than I. How each different person reacts to such a thing, some stoic and reserved, others breaking down because there isn't anything else for them to do and others still that react with sombre resignation. Moments after the medics stopped trying to bring him back, texts between staff were flying around to let each other know. It warmed my heart a bit to see that people cared enough about their friends at work that they would let them know of this tragedy...there was genuine concern and camaraderie between teammates. I guess that is something to hang on to. I truly hope they are going to be OK. We never know what the body count truly is.

Everyday we are reminded of the fragility of life itself. Steel trumps bone and muscle almost always, the heart only has so much to give before giving up. Our will can be strong but there are limits to what we can will our way out of. I have said this before, I have been lucky to have had little to deal with when it comes to the death of someone close, I really don't know how it will go when it does happen but perhaps, just perhaps, I will take strength from the good things that I know about that person. For now that will have to be enough...tomorrow will be here soon enough and for some things I have no desire for the passing of time to move any quicker.

On a day like today I take refuge in music...different tunes from U2 to Leonard Cohen. Uplifting and sad, thought provoking and numbing at the same time...we will never truly know the body count.

Hug your kids

Ciao
D

Lists

Love, love, love crossing things off lists. In my younger chef days when I worked the line I would have a long prep list written out on a chit, as most cooks do, and it would be a pleasure to cross those items off as we neared service time. Scallops - check. Linguine - check. Duck prosciutto - check...and so on. Don't tell anyone, but I would sometimes put things on the list that I had already done just so I could cross them off.

Bucket lists are funny things to me. I like the idea as long as they aren't confining in any way. As in, I didn't kiss the blarney stone, whatever shall I do?? I must be a failure. I tend to look at them as aspirations and dreams that I will try to accomplish, but if I don't I'm sure I will have some fun along the way. So, in no particular order, here be some things on my bucket list.

• Find a way to live part of my time in Europe. I don't care if I have to work a bit while there for some spending money, I just don't want to be only a tourist passing through. Greece, Italy, France, Spain, England, Portugal....I don't care, they all sound great
• Motorcycle road trip. If I ever get a bike, the epic ride to anywhere and back
• Bungee jump off of something really high up...balls in the throat sort of thing
• Spend a week in Monaco for the Grand Prix
• Watch my kids grow into the amazing people I know they will be
• Hold my grand kids 
• Put my life, such as it is, into the hands of a master sushi chef. Sit down with a good friend and let them do as they wish. We are your palette...create!
• Lock myself away in a grand bookstore or library for a week. Surrounded by history, I would sneak in some wine, food and cigars and let it all soak in
• See John Mellencamp in concert again. His show way back when is still one of the highlight shows of my life
• Bag tag Donald Drumph...fucker that he is
• See her again
• Speaking of balls in my throat, fly on a fighter jet for some real speed action
• Spend a month sailing the waters around the Caribbean. Well, someone else can sail and I will sip wine, feast on fresh fish and other delicacies  
• Hang out with Neil Young for a week. The last of the five that I called "the man". The others, Elvis, Johnny Cash, Bob Marley and Leonard Cohen are all gone
• Recreate the "Big Night" dinner for important people in my life

Hmmmmmmmm, family and friends, travel, conviviality and food and drink. Seems about right. With a little stupidity thrown in for good measure. These are but a small sampling of some of the things I'd like to do, the important thing is to understand that it is much better to be doing stuff than owning stuff. For that fact, to being doing anything that teaches me something, opens my mind to something and takes me out of my comfort zone, even a little bit is fine by me. 

Taking myself out of my comfort zone and letting things happen on a personal level is one of those newer things that I have come to enjoy since really taking myself out of comfort with my divorce. I went to a sing along choir. I rolled down the hills at Acadia simply because. I went to U@, fully prepared to go at it alone. Like that picture above...someone wanted to do my portrait and I don't care for posing, but I'm glad I did.

What's on your list?

Ciao

D

R.I.P

Thinking of Tom Petty passing away today. A gifted story teller and song writer taken too soon from us all. The fact that I am ageing means that I will be dealing with losing the people that made the music I listened to and the movies and shows that entertained me since my youth. He was 66. The boys in Rush are that age, U2 a little younger...and so on. These guys and gals will be passing on, serving to remind us that no matter what, we all go back to dust. Nobody gets out alive. So eat the fucking cake, drink that delicious wine and tell them how you feel...no regrets!!!

"Sed omnis una manet nox et calcanda semel via leti"

"But one night waits for all and the road of death is to be tread only once"

There seems to be a similar theme lately to my posts, save for the ones where I make fun of my own stupidity of course, a sort of reflective mood that in no way should indicate anything other than I am simply thinking out loud. Reflection is good...no?

I reflect on my choices, the good I have done, the not so good and the hurt I have caused. To those I have hurt, I really am sorry...and I'm pretty sure I would have said it to you personally and probably have been forgiven. Except maybe when it comes to matters of the heart...that seems to be an especially tricky area to fix that tear.

 "donde hay amor hay dolo"

"Where there is love, there is pain"

If 97.6% percent of all poetry and song writing is based around "love" one can understand how powerful a force it truly is. Love Hurts. Love Stinks. Love is a Battlefield. You've Lost That Loving Feeling. I keep thinking of the idea that if you truly want love, you are going to be left wide open to getting your heart ripped out. And it will probably happen. It has to me. But you have to get back on that stupid merry-go-round of heart wrenching rawness to let it back in. There is no other way. Remember...no walls along with that side of no regrets.

Can you see how this is all tied together? I'm going to go home soon, pour a glass and play some Tom Petty. We'll miss you buddy....light one up for us all will ya.

Ciao
D