Sooooooo...check this out http://www.inmemoriam.ca/view-announcement-549326-angus-brian-macdonald.html
And come back when you're done, I'll wait.
Seriously, just go. Don't be one of those people that like something on Facebook without actually putting any effort into finding out why they should like it. Be engaged.
Ok. I assume you read it. What did you think? Awesome or not? My vote is for awesome simply because I like the dignity, honesty and humour Sir MacDonald approached his impending demise with. I hope to be able to do the same....many years from now, because this tumour (fuck cancer) is not getting me yet.
When faced with trials and tribulations humans have some pretty funny ways of dealing with them. Don't get me wrong, life can be hard for sure. And painful. But also wonderful and beautiful. I'm not advocating for the rose coloured glasses but surely an optimistic approach is better than the woe is me routine. I like to describe myself as an optimist/realist/pessimist because that is simply the way it is. In 48 years of life I have seen enough to tell me that what we have is both shit and great. And depending on geography and lineage, one view is more prevalent. I have a good life. I'm happy. Transpose me to Syria or Palestine or Arkansas and my outlook would certainly be coloured by all that goes on around me. Makes sense right. Right here and right now, despite what is going on in my life (and I could write a blog on that....oh wait) I am happy. I have family that I love and love me, a wonderful girlfriend to steal horses with, friends of varying types that are important to me and I to them and my health is good (not withstanding the cancer (fuck cancer) and the god damn kidney stones I get every two years - you could set a slow clock to them). These are the big things in life. This is what I want to remember and find important. Not if I had a big tv or the best car. Seriously, who the fuck cares about that shit. Although when I win the lottery on Friday I'm getting an Austin Martin Vanquish - James Bond Baby!!!! Money can't buy happiness but it can buy a yacht to park beside it...hahaha
Ok, back to serious stuff....hahaha, that's pretty funny also. Maybe back on point, sort of. So, when the time comes, I will want to, if possible, celebrate life before departing the living. I want to hug my people and tell stories. Be made fun of and cry a bit...a lot, but I was chopping onions, so there.
I think I am in danger of getting sentimental and I don't feel like being sentimental today. So I will end things thus. I am fond of quoting people smarter than me, for I truly believe all the answer are out there, written, sung or painted about, so why reinvent the wheel. Nick Vujicic, "It matters how you finish. Are you going to finish strong?" Evangelism aside, the man is inspirational. I choose to finish strong.
Ciao
D
Thursday, 31 March 2016
Friday, 25 March 2016
Milestones
Today is my sons 18th birthday! I am confused how this happened seeing as I never gave him permission to grow up, but I guess, as in all things, roll with it. Right? He's an amazing young man. Smart as a whip, a real wunderkind when it comes to math, a repositiory of useless facts and trivia that can name all the countries in the world in under 10 minutes on some web page. More importantly, despite his badgering of his sisters, he has a good heart. He's going to be one of the good guys.
And marking a milestone such as this, as he prepares to go to university this fall, one can't help but think of milestones in their own life. Markers of significant times and events in our lives. Important maybe only to us but important none the less. I confess to feeling askew today. And when I do have these days I find myself looking back more than forward. Reading an article about the 50th anniversary fight between Muhammed Ali and George Chuvalo doesn't help matters. Thinking of the paths that these mens lives took. How they got to that night in Toronto and what happened since that night. And come to think about it, the ride into work this morning carried more of the same theme. A young man trying to trace back his routes through music to his great, great, great grandmother Kimsy that had fled slavery to Canada. I thought he couldn't sing worth a lick and sounded like he would be annoying to be sitting beside on a long car ride but he was certainly passionate about making a connection to his roots.
I don't have a real connection to my roots past my parents and my one grandfather, who died 25 years ago. I think growing up the way I did and my mentality as a kid, being another self absorbed teenager, I didn't have an appreciation for the past. I might have a little more now but not a lot. And sometimes that makes me a tad ashamed of myself for not knowing a lot of my history. But then I get over it. Regret is not good. But still, I wonder what it was like for my parents coming to this country. What they endured and how they worked hard to make a better life. Could I do it? Probably not to their extent but I did and continue to do just that. Ever the optimist/realist with a good dose of pessimism thrown in I know it will be better tomorrow. This cancer may kill me in a year but that won't be the deciding factor in what I choose to do. I'm still dreaming about living in Greece at some point in my life.....to that end, if Warren Buffet or Bill Gates want to adopt me....have your people call my people. I'm down.
Do you ever wonder about that road not taken? What if you had chosen one thing over another? I'm not talking about regret. See above. But the what if's? What would have happened if you had chosen differently at some point. At many points I guess. What would be the milestones then? Talk of destiny and a path not withstanding, I suspect that the end result would be similar to what we have now. Sure there will be wild variances but I can't imagine not being me. And since I am me I suspect that the core of my life would be similar in any timeline. Or would it? Who the fuck knows.
Well, as much as I want to keep on rambling I should try and get some work done.
Ciao
D
And marking a milestone such as this, as he prepares to go to university this fall, one can't help but think of milestones in their own life. Markers of significant times and events in our lives. Important maybe only to us but important none the less. I confess to feeling askew today. And when I do have these days I find myself looking back more than forward. Reading an article about the 50th anniversary fight between Muhammed Ali and George Chuvalo doesn't help matters. Thinking of the paths that these mens lives took. How they got to that night in Toronto and what happened since that night. And come to think about it, the ride into work this morning carried more of the same theme. A young man trying to trace back his routes through music to his great, great, great grandmother Kimsy that had fled slavery to Canada. I thought he couldn't sing worth a lick and sounded like he would be annoying to be sitting beside on a long car ride but he was certainly passionate about making a connection to his roots.
I don't have a real connection to my roots past my parents and my one grandfather, who died 25 years ago. I think growing up the way I did and my mentality as a kid, being another self absorbed teenager, I didn't have an appreciation for the past. I might have a little more now but not a lot. And sometimes that makes me a tad ashamed of myself for not knowing a lot of my history. But then I get over it. Regret is not good. But still, I wonder what it was like for my parents coming to this country. What they endured and how they worked hard to make a better life. Could I do it? Probably not to their extent but I did and continue to do just that. Ever the optimist/realist with a good dose of pessimism thrown in I know it will be better tomorrow. This cancer may kill me in a year but that won't be the deciding factor in what I choose to do. I'm still dreaming about living in Greece at some point in my life.....to that end, if Warren Buffet or Bill Gates want to adopt me....have your people call my people. I'm down.
Do you ever wonder about that road not taken? What if you had chosen one thing over another? I'm not talking about regret. See above. But the what if's? What would have happened if you had chosen differently at some point. At many points I guess. What would be the milestones then? Talk of destiny and a path not withstanding, I suspect that the end result would be similar to what we have now. Sure there will be wild variances but I can't imagine not being me. And since I am me I suspect that the core of my life would be similar in any timeline. Or would it? Who the fuck knows.
Well, as much as I want to keep on rambling I should try and get some work done.
Ciao
D
Monday, 14 March 2016
Dear Mr. President,
In the late 80's John Mellencamp released a masterpiece recording known as The Lonesome Jubilee. Loved that album and loved JCM at that point in his career. Saw him perform at the good ole CNE in Toronto in the summer of 1988 and it was simply amazing. But enough of this gushing over a rock star. On that album was a song called Down and Out in Paradise. A commentary on the failed American Dream from the perspective of ordinary Americans. "Dear Mr President" the song starts....
Dear Mr. President wannabe, AKA Mr. Drumph
Let me begin by saying to call you repugnant would be just slightly not strong enough. You are one scary ass dude. Not because I am scared of you but because if you come to power we will all have reason to be afraid.
Every four years the world gets a glimpse into the world of American politics and every four years we get a little more afraid of the "what ifs" We watch in disbelief at the level of discourse that seems to find new lows with relative ease. Surely it couldn't get any lower with your tea baggers but wait, hark, what hair is this?
What if this fraction of a man does become president? Well, the radicals have a new poster boy and the things that he fear mongers over will become reality in your country...on a regular basis. I get the fascination, sort of like looking at someone eat a pound of bacon on top of another pound of bacon. It's crazy but I can't look away. What worries us is that more of the "supporters" might come out of the wood work and then we're all fucked. Jurassic Park is looking pretty good right now.
The world hopes that America's better angels come forth and stop you from this madness. Hold up your collective hands and say no, enough with fear and hate. Be strong, sure. Spread your brand, fill your boots. If there is a sucker born every minute than surely a sucker will be there to buy your crap. But doesn't anyone wonder why you are reviled as a country. It's your arrogance. Your assumption that the world wants to eat Big Macs and drive Chevy Cobalts. If they do...fine. But don't call them names and invade if they don't. That's just mean. Not to mention the whole Middle East issue...it's about religion stupid. History has shown how stupid people can get over the invisible man in the sky, surely someone can explain this. But ask the next question and the one after that and after that again...how do we fix this by talking it through? Drumph is the wrong guy for this. I don't know if there is a right guy considering the way your system works but surely Drumph is never gonna be right.
So stop the madness now....before it's too late
PS Cruz isn't any better.
Told you I rambled....so what, it's not a book with an editor watching over my shoulder for fuck sakes. I'm at work in-between things. So frig off.
Wait, I'm sorry. Don't go....hahaha Whatever, go. I'm doing this for my own amusement so to quote every cook ever...."go fuck yourself"
Back to the Dear Mr thing. I like the premise of the letter style of writing. I might do it again. I can just see it....
Ciao
D
Dear Mr. President wannabe, AKA Mr. Drumph
Let me begin by saying to call you repugnant would be just slightly not strong enough. You are one scary ass dude. Not because I am scared of you but because if you come to power we will all have reason to be afraid.
Every four years the world gets a glimpse into the world of American politics and every four years we get a little more afraid of the "what ifs" We watch in disbelief at the level of discourse that seems to find new lows with relative ease. Surely it couldn't get any lower with your tea baggers but wait, hark, what hair is this?
What if this fraction of a man does become president? Well, the radicals have a new poster boy and the things that he fear mongers over will become reality in your country...on a regular basis. I get the fascination, sort of like looking at someone eat a pound of bacon on top of another pound of bacon. It's crazy but I can't look away. What worries us is that more of the "supporters" might come out of the wood work and then we're all fucked. Jurassic Park is looking pretty good right now.
The world hopes that America's better angels come forth and stop you from this madness. Hold up your collective hands and say no, enough with fear and hate. Be strong, sure. Spread your brand, fill your boots. If there is a sucker born every minute than surely a sucker will be there to buy your crap. But doesn't anyone wonder why you are reviled as a country. It's your arrogance. Your assumption that the world wants to eat Big Macs and drive Chevy Cobalts. If they do...fine. But don't call them names and invade if they don't. That's just mean. Not to mention the whole Middle East issue...it's about religion stupid. History has shown how stupid people can get over the invisible man in the sky, surely someone can explain this. But ask the next question and the one after that and after that again...how do we fix this by talking it through? Drumph is the wrong guy for this. I don't know if there is a right guy considering the way your system works but surely Drumph is never gonna be right.
So stop the madness now....before it's too late
PS Cruz isn't any better.
Told you I rambled....so what, it's not a book with an editor watching over my shoulder for fuck sakes. I'm at work in-between things. So frig off.
Wait, I'm sorry. Don't go....hahaha Whatever, go. I'm doing this for my own amusement so to quote every cook ever...."go fuck yourself"
Back to the Dear Mr thing. I like the premise of the letter style of writing. I might do it again. I can just see it....
Ciao
D
Monday, 29 February 2016
My Sister Called Me A Drama Queen
Just over a week ago I had the privilege of bringing forth to this world my fifth kidney stone. Yes, those of you that have suffered through this personally know the agony it can cause. I was told my a female doctor that she would rather give birth than pass a stone...that's all I'm saying.
It started, as usual, in the wee hours of the night, but not as strong as usual. So I wasn't convinced it was a stone. Until later on in the morning when I was driving to an appointment....I then became sure. Mother flogger!!!! But, also strangely, the pain subsided to the point that I though maybe I was not so bad off. I went home in the hopes of sleeping it off. That's when my MD sister called me a drama queen. Cancer wasn't enough, I need to have a stone as well. I told her I was sympathy deprived...so there. Anyhooooooo, long story a tad shorter, I drove myself to emergency to get hopped on drugs so I can be pain free, my insides could relax and lo and behold, 5 hours later, shortly after I got home, I passed the stone. First time I caught the bugger. I'll spare you the details though. But I'm feeling much better now, thanks for asking.
Which leads me to considerations on health. Maybe I'm dense, maybe I'm naive. Scratch that, I'm both of those things and I think they are intrinsically linked together. I like to think the naivete takes precedence but one never knows. Which is why I say that I do know that one never thinks of their health until they are in poor health. Be it a stone, cancer or mental health. Ignorance is bliss and the absence of outward signs must mean everything is ok. I profess to being uncomfortable with mental health. Not that I am unsympathetic, just that I have very little personal experience to relate to and I find it hard to say the right thing or even if I should say anything. As far as I know I have no anxieties, no depression and no signs of anything coming close to mental health issues. So when confronted with an issue with a loved one I find myself casting about for the right thing to say. Or worse, that I might make things worse somehow...people talk to me for some reason and I find they can confide a lot of things to me. Always been that way. I suspect it will continue. Part of me likes it and part of me wonders why me. Maybe I have a kind face. Maybe that explains why complete strangers will tell me about they're affairs...and by affairs I mean sexual and emotional dalliances. It goes from how did you hurt your foot to my ass hole husband is having an affair so I am having one as well. Uhhhhmmmmm, ok then.
I told you I rambled....get over it.
My love and support to those dealing with all kinds of health concerns but especially for those going through mental health issues. That not so silent fuck wad of an issue that you can't wrestle to the ground easily. If you're "mine", you can always talk to me. I may not have the right words but I do listen well....oh wait, maybe that's why people talk to me. I listen.
Well....enough rambling. I'm going home. Feed my cat and hopefully spend sometime with my girlfriend.
Remind me to talk about "we decided to"
Ciao
D
It started, as usual, in the wee hours of the night, but not as strong as usual. So I wasn't convinced it was a stone. Until later on in the morning when I was driving to an appointment....I then became sure. Mother flogger!!!! But, also strangely, the pain subsided to the point that I though maybe I was not so bad off. I went home in the hopes of sleeping it off. That's when my MD sister called me a drama queen. Cancer wasn't enough, I need to have a stone as well. I told her I was sympathy deprived...so there. Anyhooooooo, long story a tad shorter, I drove myself to emergency to get hopped on drugs so I can be pain free, my insides could relax and lo and behold, 5 hours later, shortly after I got home, I passed the stone. First time I caught the bugger. I'll spare you the details though. But I'm feeling much better now, thanks for asking.
Which leads me to considerations on health. Maybe I'm dense, maybe I'm naive. Scratch that, I'm both of those things and I think they are intrinsically linked together. I like to think the naivete takes precedence but one never knows. Which is why I say that I do know that one never thinks of their health until they are in poor health. Be it a stone, cancer or mental health. Ignorance is bliss and the absence of outward signs must mean everything is ok. I profess to being uncomfortable with mental health. Not that I am unsympathetic, just that I have very little personal experience to relate to and I find it hard to say the right thing or even if I should say anything. As far as I know I have no anxieties, no depression and no signs of anything coming close to mental health issues. So when confronted with an issue with a loved one I find myself casting about for the right thing to say. Or worse, that I might make things worse somehow...people talk to me for some reason and I find they can confide a lot of things to me. Always been that way. I suspect it will continue. Part of me likes it and part of me wonders why me. Maybe I have a kind face. Maybe that explains why complete strangers will tell me about they're affairs...and by affairs I mean sexual and emotional dalliances. It goes from how did you hurt your foot to my ass hole husband is having an affair so I am having one as well. Uhhhhmmmmm, ok then.
I told you I rambled....get over it.
My love and support to those dealing with all kinds of health concerns but especially for those going through mental health issues. That not so silent fuck wad of an issue that you can't wrestle to the ground easily. If you're "mine", you can always talk to me. I may not have the right words but I do listen well....oh wait, maybe that's why people talk to me. I listen.
Well....enough rambling. I'm going home. Feed my cat and hopefully spend sometime with my girlfriend.
Remind me to talk about "we decided to"
Ciao
D
Friday, 12 February 2016
The one where they go to New York
And now I know why New York is considered one of the greatest cities in the world. What an amazing time we had in the Big Apple! While the trip was short we packed all the things first time tourists would do and walked a gazillion miles doing it. The people, the sights, the sounds...all of it too much and yet not enough. I want more. Or maybe I just want to experience more and it does not matter where. Go west young man. Go east too....fuck, go everywhere.
I won't bore you with the trivial stuff and recount everything that we did or saw. In my case out of one eye ha-ha. I will say the Empire State Building at night was truly amazing and walking past The Dakota and seeing the Imagine mosaic was slightly surreal. "What if" comes to mind.
It occurs to me that the "what ifs" are what we spend a lot of time and brain power on. I don't know if that's god or bad, but I think it can certainly go in the bad direction when it becomes a crutch or an excuse. What if I didn't have symptoms in my eye? Well, I'd be dead at some point in the not so distant future with this aggressive bastard. What if we had stayed together? What if I had kissed her in grade 11? What if I call her? What if say fuck it and move to Santorini? The last one I'd do pretty quickly by the way.
Point being that living in the what may have been or what may be can be potentially dangerous. And most certainly not healthy. My mantra these days, aside from Fuck Cancer, is I want to do stuff instead of own stuff. A new couch or trip to wherever? Want to take a guess at my choice? Right. Let the cat keep tearing up that 20 year old couch, I'm heading to Lunenburg with my love.
In my guise as a chef I have used some little nuggets of advice to youngsters coming up in the business. My favourite is "be a sponge". Soak it all in. The good , the bad and the ugly. In work life I have probably learned more from watching morons do the wrong thing and being just smart enough to realize that the opposite way is the right way. I apply that little nugget of advice to everything. And smile....lots of smiling.
That, I noticed, was abundant in New York. Despite the doom and gloom, the weather, the crowds and the damn tourists....people smiled. I like that.
And that is all for today my loyal followers....ha-ha
Ciao
I won't bore you with the trivial stuff and recount everything that we did or saw. In my case out of one eye ha-ha. I will say the Empire State Building at night was truly amazing and walking past The Dakota and seeing the Imagine mosaic was slightly surreal. "What if" comes to mind.
It occurs to me that the "what ifs" are what we spend a lot of time and brain power on. I don't know if that's god or bad, but I think it can certainly go in the bad direction when it becomes a crutch or an excuse. What if I didn't have symptoms in my eye? Well, I'd be dead at some point in the not so distant future with this aggressive bastard. What if we had stayed together? What if I had kissed her in grade 11? What if I call her? What if say fuck it and move to Santorini? The last one I'd do pretty quickly by the way.
Point being that living in the what may have been or what may be can be potentially dangerous. And most certainly not healthy. My mantra these days, aside from Fuck Cancer, is I want to do stuff instead of own stuff. A new couch or trip to wherever? Want to take a guess at my choice? Right. Let the cat keep tearing up that 20 year old couch, I'm heading to Lunenburg with my love.
In my guise as a chef I have used some little nuggets of advice to youngsters coming up in the business. My favourite is "be a sponge". Soak it all in. The good , the bad and the ugly. In work life I have probably learned more from watching morons do the wrong thing and being just smart enough to realize that the opposite way is the right way. I apply that little nugget of advice to everything. And smile....lots of smiling.
That, I noticed, was abundant in New York. Despite the doom and gloom, the weather, the crowds and the damn tourists....people smiled. I like that.
And that is all for today my loyal followers....ha-ha
Ciao
Monday, 1 February 2016
Why is everything so blurry?
Hmmmmmm, I'm five days removed from the removal of a radioactive disk that was inserted behind my eye (gross) and I'm blurry eyed in my left eye and I can see blood when I look into the light. And I didn't get super powers from the radiation. I did, however, get a couple of pirate eye patches. So I guess that is something.
The procedure went well according to the wonderful doctors in Toronto. Oh, while I'm thinking about it. I can't say enough about the mostly excellent people I had to deal with for a week in good ole Hogtown. The nurses on my overnight stay were great. The doctors were informative and laughed at my jokes (pity laughs maybe?) and the whole process seemed to go very well and surprisingly quick. I guess they don't fuck around when it comes to cancer. Diagnosed on December 28th and treatment finished on January 27th. That seems pretty quick to me.
So, now what? Years of follow up and monitoring. This little bastard ends up in the liver if it metastasises for some unknown reason, so you know I'll be having regular blood work and ultra sounds. Oh well....I'm alive and that, my non existent readers, is the important thing.
Talking about important things. My family and friends have been truly great. From my sister who essentially saved my life by pushing me to check out the eye thing back in December (it might be a stroke you idiot) and being a voice of reason and compassion along with her sense of humour. Which I will take credit for, as we are so very alike and I'm the oldest. This fact drives my mom absolutely batty of course. While we look to make fun of and ridicule the whole process my mom has taken all this very hard. Understandable of course, I have no idea how I would react if something similar was dropped on one of my kids and I have no desire to find out. Sure it's hard but I know she'll pull it together. My dad is a little more quiet on the subject but certainly digs when he can....he still may be in shock from hitting his head.
My girlfriend has been great beyond belief and I love her dearly for her support and attitude. In the few moments after telling her the diagnosis I had a few tears. By the time we got to the main floor, after a short elevator ride, we were poking fun at it and she was the first to text me a Cyclops eye. About an hour or so later....now that's love.
Scott, who had to deal with his own heart breaking loss to cancer, is a true best friend. Along with Anna, Ann, Tania, Nancy, my extended family and all my friends that I decided to tell...the support is overwhelming and so appreciated.
And now I'm back at work only really thinking about going to New York at the end of the week. Four days of whatever Barb and I can think of doing. It will be amazing I am sure.
More to come......when I remember to write of course
Ciao
Wednesday, 6 January 2016
Lucy!! You have some splaining to do!!!
Let me begin by saying this isn't simply about putting voice to what I may or may not be going through with this diagnosis. Like many people I feel the desire to say something...probably many things, so this is as good a reason to start as any. I will be out in left field, I will rant, I will pontificate and I will try to be coherent. No guarantees of course.
I guess a little background may be useful. Specifically the "drive much" title. Many moons ago, in my younger days back in Toronto, I was what some would call an aggressive driver. You say aggressive I say awesome...whatever. One of the early realizations for me was that I had little patience for people that could not drive as well, keep up or worse - get in my way. "Drive much" was condemnation of these people driving near me. It came to be all encompassing for me with regards to the "awesome" people out there. And by awesome I mean stupid. Not stupid because you don't understand how four plus four equals eight, rather the ones that simply don't get it. The ones that never learn from anything and you are left wondering how they managed to live this long. Drive much?
The throat punching comes from another blog that I was alerted to. I liked the name and figured there were all kinds of us out there. So there you have it, don't "drive" around me or you might get punched in the throat.
Ciao
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