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