Cheesecloth

I should be writing... I've neglected this blog for almost a week now.  Frankly, I just don't have the energy to put pen to paper (figuratively) as my mind has been clogged with the craziness that is the computer world.  I have been working on getting all my stuff that is on my old laptop transferred to my new laptop and it's been a long and arduous project.  Arduous on account that I just don't get it half the time.   I know it sounds so pathetically stereotypical, but when it comes to this technical stuff, my head just sort of shuts down.  Kind sons and support techs try to walk me through the maze that is a puzzle of my own making.  Just when I thought I had a bit of a handle on the whole thing, I am brought to my knees when trying to understand the transfer process.  Sure, it's designed to be 'easy' for us challenged folk, but when anything outside the perimeters creeps up I am automatically stumped. 

My son tries to help me... he talks real slow and uses word pictures to explain it all.  I sit there staring blankly, feeling the info passing directly through me like water through cheesecloth.  It's frustrating and embarrassing... for both of us.  But what can I do?  I'm pretty sure if I tried reading about the inner workings of computer technology I'd be yawning by the second sentence.  It's just not an area that I'm wired for.   Still, I don't want to give up trying.  I'm not quite ready to admit defeat.  In the meantime, I'll forge ahead and try to train my brain to absorb that which it is unfamiliar.  My fear is that by the time I've learned something it will be obsolete and I'll have to start over with the updated version.  It's never ending...

When they find a way to update the software between my ears, I'll be first in line.

Law songs

"La-la-la-laaa-la
Shoulda been a lawyer
I'd get to argue every day
Getting buckets full of money
Keepin' Lindsay out of jail."

I have a bit of a hate-on for lawyers right now.  Nothing personal, of course...  my BFF is in fact, a lawyer, but rather my ill will is directed towards the job and possibly law in general. Of course we all know there are good lawyers; honest, honorable men and women that fight for social justice.  But then there are the others... the ones that every good lawyer joke is based on.  The fact we allow those lawyers to so distort and manipulate the law in the quest to win (and we all know how the bottom line loves a winner), is pathetic to say the least.  The reason I struggle so much with this is because of the abhorrent nature of our overly litigious system of justice here in Canada, and even more so in the US.

We have considerable problems with the legal system and listing them all would take days.  Unfortunately, when these problems are so profound that the criminals that are caught are having to be let free (on account of the timing out of the statute of limitations before they could get to trial), then we've really in trouble. (This recently happened in Canada with a notorious group of Hell's Angels) The courts are so backlogged they're becoming totally ineffective.   And why are they so backlogged, you ask?  Well, that's because everybody and their brother is suing each other for all manner of transgressions, real or imagined.  And why is that happening?  Because the fine folks of the USofA, and by extension Canada, have seen this as a credible way to make money... BIG money.  It's replaced the low probability lottery ticket as the future retirement fund of choice. Why work when you could pull in a six figure settlement by just breaking a couple of bones and whining real loud?  There are constant ads on television encouraging this kind of behaviour.  People are scraping the bottom of the pot in an effort to find some reason they could sue some big corporate entity and walk away rich.  With law firms vying for clients, they'll make anything into a lawsuit while their 'poor victims' sit back and plan how to spend their potential windfall.  I'm heavily generalizing here, but you get the point.  It's when you have piles of these types of time sucking-cases in your court room, that the legitimate ones often get lost in the shuffle.

But this is not the only problem with the system. Far from it. The amount of money that is spent every year on convicting and housing thousands of men and women who have committed minor crimes is astounding.  For example: the US in particular just loves to send people to jail for having a spliff in their pockets.  Think about how many of these 'criminals' there must be serving time for their crime. Yes, it happens here too, but our pot laws are a little less stringent.  The fact that these are traditionally poor men and women only acerbates the tragedy of it all. They don't have the money for the team of crack lawyers in Versace suits.  No, the injustice of the protection of ones rights under the law being granted to the highest bidder makes me cringe.  Yet what can we do?  Lobby our MP's? Law by tradition has a symbiotic relationship with politics, so trying to get things done by going down that road feels equally futile.  It's a conundrum.  The whole thing is a holy hot mess.

So, we see the problem, but not the solution. Seems to be a theme nowadays.

NB: I should mention that the fact I used the name 'Lindsay' and the word 'jail' in my little song and posted it on the web, will provide just enough ammunition for Ms. Lohan to file a lawsuit against me...

Well, she's gonna have to find me first.

Guilty pleasures...

Sept. 19th is fast approaching. The high anxiety is starting to kick in and I'm feeling a little giddy.  It's crazy, I know, but I'm gonna let you in on a wee secret.  I have a passion for dance competitions. Yup, it's true, so the above date is in reference to this season of 'Dancing with the Stars'.  I can't help it... it's my guilty pleasure.  I know it's been on for a number of years, but I only got hooked 2 years ago.  And it's not about the 'stars' at all, it's about the process of taking a non-dancer and making them a Dancer.  The beauty of watching someone embrace a talent they didn't know they possessed is priceless. I love it.  Then again I love all shows with dancing of any style whether it be TV or movies.  Luckily, there seems to be no dearth of them around these days.  I do, however, recognize that in taking them all in would be detrimental to my health and well-being, so I try and keep it down to the one.

This years DWTS will prove to be interesting... unfortunately for reasons totally unrelated to dancing. This year is special as it has as one of its competitors the dancer formerly known as Chastity Bono, the former daughter of Sonny & Cher.  I say 'former' because unless you've been living in a tree in Borneo for the last few years, you'll know that 'she' is now a 'he'.  Chastity went through a very public sex reassignment surgery in order to become 'Chaz', the male gender she always identified with.  He had his female breasts removed and will be taking testosterone for the rest of his life.  He proudly displays some patchy facial hair along with the requisite tattoos on his arms and legs.  The one thing he did not change though were his genitals.  He is a 'man' who has a vagina; who could nurture a fetus and birth a child.  To me that would be no less confusing than if you didn't go through all the surgery and shots in the first place.  There is still an element of 'pretend'.  Sure you can have a judge declare you now a male, but  it isn't what you really are.  Your vagina, not to mention your DNA, will give you away every time.

I don't harbor any ill will towards Chaz, nor do I pass judgment on him.  I have no right to do so.  It certainly wouldn't deter me from watching the show, as some over zealous boycotter's would wish.  However I do feel for him.  To have grown up feeling foreign in ones body would be hard, for sure, yet I think many of us go through times when we don't feel authentic; when what we feel doesn't match what was given.  I wish he had found a better way to cope, because in a way he is no further ahead.  He traded his minds gender disconnect to a bodily one.

And we, as witnesses, are left with the task of making sense of it so we can in turn, try to explain it to our children.  Explain without eliciting fear and hatred; finger pointing and condemnation, but also knowing they do not have to accept it as the new normal.

Now, let's bring on the dancing!

Creative bent

I've talked about the writing process on many occasions, mostly whining about lack of inspiration, so I won't bore you with reiterating.  Instead, what I want to look at is the craft that is the written word.  There is a certain turmoil that goes hand in hand with writing things down that makes the process weighty.  You have to take certain risks... risk of personal exposure, risk of offense, risk of plagiarizing, in order to create effectively. Sometimes you need to go deep in your soul and sometimes it can be dark.  Is it worth it?  Cause when it's all said and done, what you are really doing is expressing all the inner workings that make up your own belief systems and perceptions.  It's not always pretty and it is never easy.   You have to learn to trust your own gut.

I've been walkin' down that road for a long time now.  I've always enjoyed verbiage and I think that comes from a deep love of reading.  Over the years I have been able to appreciate the 'craft' behind creating a good book.  Like any art form, it has tremendous power to influence, so to write a credible book is a skill not to be taken lightly.  More and more I am coming to respect that.

One of the biggest hurdles I've experienced in writing comes down to personal expectations.  Does what I have to say, and how I say it, match the expectations of what people have of me? (Or of what I'm willing to let them see?)  For example: Cuss words.  When and where is it ok to use them?  Having been brought up in a Christian home, we were never allowed to even say 'golly' or 'darn' as that would somehow lead to the big baddies like 'god' and 'damn'.  Yet, as I've aged considerably and I recognize both the importance and unimportance of certain words, I am more inclined to use all the tools in the toolbox as a way to express intense emotions.  I've even been known to drop an f-bomb on occasion.  Still, I'm always thinking about who might be reading this and how shocked they may be knowing I have a mouth like a sailor at times.   I often go back and self censor.  It's that Sunday School sensibility in me.

Writing is painting with words.  Just like an artist, we need color to create a scene that the reader can visualize.  A writing teacher once told me, '...don't tell me, show me.'  And she is right.  The books and writings that have always captivated me are  the ones that by their very timbre conjure up vivid pictures in my mind. Whether they are light or dark, they always have color.

There are those writers who seem to just naturally have an abundance of color, and use it prolifically.  You know the ones.  The Stephen King's and John Grisham's of the world.  Others have to fight for every word, squeezing out every last little drop of paint to complete the painting.  I fall into the later.  Part of the reason for that is the fear involved in saying something offensive or controversial... to write that which would be disturbing for family to read.  However, I have found that the more I do write, the less fearful I become of it.  It just goes to show you how practice can erode fear and replace it with a sense of freedom.  It's something I continue to strive for.

So, I shall continue to blather on here about all manner of stuff and work those muscles, knowing I'm going to have to take a few punches in the process.  Feel free to take a swing.

Just be mindful of the language it will unleash!

9/11/11

I hadn't initially planned to comment on this day of remembrance.  Somehow it just felt like, umm, I dunno... like pandering to people's pain and paranoia.  It was, after all, 10 years ago and we have to move on, right?   Yet, despite my ambivalence I could not help but be moved by the pictures and stories of those at ground zero that were streaming regularly across the TV screen.  In this day and age where everyone has a video camera, the footage was close up; immediate and intense.  And we were all watching.  Glued to the screen in horror and disbelief, the world stopped that day to try to absorb the impossible... the great superpower that was the USofA was being brought to its knees, live and in color.  Except the color was an opaque gray, peppered with shots of red flowing down victims bodies.  And there was nothing we could do for it but cry at the carnage.

I, like thousands of others, hit up the Red Cross and donated blood.  An insignificant act in the scheme of things, but it helped to feel like you were doing something.  As the 2 buildings disintegrated before our eyes, we were left with the burning question... why?  Why here?  Why now?  That's when a funny thing happened.  The 'why' was immediately followed by 'who' as blame was needed to be lain.  Once that had been established, (or was it?) the entire focus shifted from helping one's fellow man to annihilation of another.  And the rest, as they say, is history. 

The unfortunate fall out from this mindset has made us all a little more suspicious and certainly less trusting of other cultures.  We've been programed to be paranoid of all people from the Middle East, which is both unfair and dangerous... especially for the US who have a history of intolerance to color.  We can't afford to be that in a world that has no geographical boundaries.  "Judge not, lest ye be judged", and "what goes around, comes around", are not just cute sayings, they're prophetic.   Because, really, by taking that narrow mindset we are in essence negating all the good that was displayed that day.  Hero's were born, futures were sacrificed in the act of saving others.  That's what we need to remember and celebrate.  I watched a CNN program last night hosted by Dr. Sanjay Gupta who interviewed those men and women who were the first responders and are now, 10 years later, physically and in turn, mentally destroyed.  These are the people we need to celebrate today, the victims of the recovery.  These people should also not be forgotten.

It's a somber day for many, particularly those who lost family as a result of 9/11.  People are mourning all over the world.  Paul Simon summed up our collective grief when he sang, 'The Sound of Silence' at ground zero today.  Because of all the horrors that were impressed on the brains of those New Yorkers that day, it was the eerie silence brought to 'the city that never sleeps' they remember most.

"And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tw1788n_uIE

Lest we forget.

Of earthquakes and lost boys

We were hit with an earthquake yesterday off the west coast of BC.  I know this as Gord called me from work to tell me that the pulleys on all the blinds in his office were simultaneously knocking against the window.  A few minutes later he called back to say that CBC was reporting that we had in fact, just experienced an earthquake.  And not exactly a small one as it clocked in at 6.7 on the magnitude scale.  I didn't feel a thing.  By the sounds of it nobody did.  Apparently it originated as a shift at the base of Vancouver Island, deep enough that it wouldn't shake us up top.  It did, however, shake up some BC'ers and the 'word on the street' is that it's a precursor to the 'big one'... that there's this brown dwarf star hurling towards earth which is sucking us into it's gravitational field which will send us into oblivion.  Hmmm.  This is also somehow linked in to the Mayan Calendar.  I'm not real sure about all this, as there is always some nutbar spewing dates and insisting the end of the world is nigh.  Still, there are forces in this universe that certainly makes it feel like it's the final act.

On Wednesday evening a man entered a house in Sparwood, BC, picked up a sleepy 3 year old, placed him in his car and drove away.  The rest of the family were sleeping soundly not realizing he was gone until the next morning; by this time the suspect had hours of driving time behind him.  The police feel confident they've identified this man as one Randall Hopley, so his picture, car description and license plate are all over the web.  Randall is mentally impaired.  Randall has a lengthy criminal record.  Randall is considered dangerous.

At first glance these two events seem non-related, but when you look at them in the big picture, these things are both symptoms of a planet in it's death throes.   Sure, the earth could easily recover and last a few more thousand years, however our societal ills are chronic bordering on fatal.  The economy, the corruption, the destruction of the environment, the disease, the wars, the natural disasters, the money lust... this is what is killing us.  We have turned from God to worship at the feet of science and technology and effectively replaced ourselves with machines and computers, unable to even feed ourselves due to geneticaly engineering out the reproductive nature of the food we eat.  The toxins we ingest everyday brings with it new and stronger diseases which we, in turn, refuse to allow us our demise.  So, regardless if the planet gets obliterated out of existence, we're right on track to do it to ourselves.  When you look at it that way, Randall, with his untreated mental illness, is a product of our environment.  Born into a society that seems more interested in Kim Kardashian's sex tape than finding effective and humane ways of dealing with persons with mental illness.   It's shameful... we're shameful.

I pray that somehow, someone finds this man and assists to get little Kienan back home safely and without scars.

And maybe, just maybe the Mayans are right...

No wonder

Do you ever think back to your younger years and the people who were important to you then and ask yourself, "I wonder what ever happened to________?" I used to do this on occasion, but now it's become somewhat of a hobby.  Ever since the social networks of 'Classmates' and 'Facebook', etc., it's developed into this online version of 'hide & seek' or 'where's Waldo' except you're not actually looking for Waldo. Rather your goal is to hunt for the lost tribe of yesteryear and see what develops. With luck, they'll remember who you are and accept the extended olive branch.  From there the interaction can be minimal or fully engaged. The point is in the connection. The challenge to this process of locating them comes in 2 forms: 1) when looking for a woman who likely has changed her name in marriage, and 2) sifting through the hundreds of people who have the same name.  This is further complicated when there is no picture to help eliminate obvious non-qualifiers due to age, gender or race.  So, you can see that it's not as easy as it looks and you may just have to accept that you never will get the 'ol gang back on the radar. And sometimes it's better not to know.  It does come with a warning though... can be a MAJOR time waster.  Especially if you are of the 'never say die' breed.  And it's addictive.  I'm telling you this purely as a warning... don't say I didn't tell ya!

I've been lucky though, really lucky in that I've found almost all of my bestest friends, or in some cases, they found me.  There's something special about sharing a past and seeing the path each has taken; to compare notes and show off children.  Some relish the reconnection, others just like to know you're there and it's all good.   You set out to bridge the years of not knowing and you did it.

Now, you will wonder no more.

In-fighting

Break out the hairshirt... it's been one of those days.  And by 'those days' I am referring to the ones where you walk around in a semi daze with neck tension and a stress headache caused by all the cat scratching and infighting within ones own head.  There is no escape from myself; I just can't ignore me and walk away no matter how much I want to. Should I or shouldn't; yes or no?  Both sides of the equation have valid points. There's that constant fear of not making the right choices; of setting myself up for more defeat.  I don't want to be more defeated... I want to do something right, from start to finish so I can have something positive to spring off of.  Even this, my blog, feels forced of late.  Like I'm trying too hard and am sounding desperate. My blog is clogged... bogged and clogged.  Mirrors my life.  Just need the shoes to match.  *sigh*  This is getting depressing...

Going through this makes me understand the concept of 'mid-life crisis' so much better.  I won't be so glib about it from now on.  It's difficult to transition out of endings and into new beginnings without rattling a few chains.  Some of us go through seismic shifts while others experience nothing more than a little blip on their radar. It's a complicated time of teaching old dogs new tricks. Is it any wonder that some go off the deep end and decide they want to start over at, say 25 years, with the hot cars, hot girls, and fresh ink?  Caaa-ray-zee times.  I think sometimes we are suddenly surprised by our own unimportance in the worldview.  Where we used to pick up speed and mass when rolling down that hill, now we're just slowly sliding down the other side dropping body parts.  However, I don't believe there is no longer value to our lives after the kids have gone and we struggle to stay viable.  It's just finding the right niche where we can bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever... Edelweiss, edelweiiiiiiiiss.  (oops... that was my inside voice, wasn't it?)

So, I end this clogged, bogged blog no more enlightened then when I started.  I do, however, have an uncanny desire to watch 'The Sound of Music'...

Bloom and grow, baby.     

Leftovers

It was only after re-reading my last post that I realized I left out a couple of interesting Queen facts, so I'm gonna lay 'em down here for you now.

Did you know that all four members of Queen are University/College educated?  It was while in school that these 4 met.  John Deacon studied electronics; Roger Taylor, Dentistry; Freddie, Graphic Design; and Brian May, Astronomy, later completing his PhD. in that field.  So now I guess he's 'Dr.' Brian May.  Also, they had gone through a handful of bass players before they connected with John, who was only playing as a hobby while getting his electronics degree.  John, affectionately known as the 'Invisible man' to the rest of the band for his penchant for staying on the down low, went on to write some of Queen's biggest hits including the 3rd major sports anthems (after We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions), Another One Bites The Dust.  So, there you have it.  I've included another song from their early years which highlights their amazing harmonizing.

Hope you enjoy!

phttp://www.youtube.com/user/queenofficial#p/c/A6C8C05530040EF8/9/2AwaiAturyQ

Freddie @ 65

As I was scanning the news online I came across a little tribute to my buddy Freddie. He would have been 65 today; old enough to officially retire and collect a pension.  Old enough to get free coffee at McDonald's and to order off the back of the menu at a variety of restaurants.  Old enough to be considered a 'senior'.  I think Freddie would have rode that bus all day long!

Alas, I have never met the man, nor would he need to cash in on any of the above perks.  Freddie Mercury, born Farrokh Balsara, was the iconic lead singer of the super group Queen, who died after a long battle with AIDS related pneumonia 20 years ago today. He was both talented and reckless, which for a rocker is a dangerous combination.  But you only have to listen to 'Bohemian Rhapsody' once to appreciate the incredible gift he possessed.  I watched a documentary on his life a while back where they interviewed his mother and sister.  He was, by all accounts, a rather shy boy who really only escaped that shyness when he embraced his stage persona. The music, the videos, allowed him to express all that swagger he never felt he could do as himself.  Our perception of the man with the four octave range was one of an flamboyant diva with a little crazy thrown in.  Regardless, you could not deny the voice; that voice kept us captivated. 

Still, Queen was much more than one man.  The incredibly tight harmonies of the four men took their craft to a whole other level.  And the band was also the first to do the big arena shows with lights shows and plenty of theatrical stimuli to keep their audiences completely present.   Queen did tour again after Freddie died, but it just wasn't the same.  John (bass) bowed out, and Roger Waters was brought in for vocals, which left Brian and Roger as the only original members. Somehow, it felt

When Queen visited Vancouver in 1980 I never went... I regret that to this day. 
Other than the Beatles, Queen is the only band of my all time favourites that I never saw in concert. No doubt it would have been brilliant.

So, to you Freddie, I lift my glass to you.  Your music will continue as a living testament to your talent.  Hope you're still havin' a good time!

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/user/queenofficial#p/c/A6C8C05530040EF8/6/HgzGwKwLmgM

Trippin' the switch.

 Wow.  That was fast!  It appears that by flipping the calendar from August to September it automatically triggered fall.  In just 3 days the air has changed and it's considerably cooler in the evenings.  The leaves on one of our trees is already changing from green to yellow.  I don't think I'm ready for that.

It's the start of another school year and with that comes a certain excitement.  I always loved gathering school supplies, fresh and clean for another year.  I still to this day have a love on for stationery stores. Could spend hours there.  Stupid, I know. 

I have myself decided on doing something completely different by doing an online course... I think!  No, I'm pretty sure I'm going to do it, just haven't signed on the dotted line as of yet.  I'm torn between wanting to do something online or actually attend the college. Doing it online is much more practical as OUC is a fair distance away.  I never really liked school too much until I went back in 1982 at the ripe old age of 25.  I loved it!  It was the high school experience I never had!  Being the only 'mature' student gave me a little clout, and our program (Fashion/Retail Management) always attracted the men from Marketing, so we very soon got plugged into the social scene.  The marketing men threw us a little mixer to 'introduce' themselves (aka: check out the new meat)... Ha! (The Marketers were the party people, mixed with a few from Accounting.) It was quite simple really... our program was filled with women, the marketing one had primarily men.  Bet you didn't see that one coming!  Plus, there seemed to be a high percentage of Italians in Marketing. Don't know if that has any bearing.  Anyhow, we had fun... lots of it!  I got asked out on dates... which hadn't happened since Mike Benjesdorff asked me to his grad in 1975. I ended up dating the VP of the Student Union who just happened to be considerably younger.  It was all good.  I actually found out I rather enjoyed higher learning and in spite of the partying, I did quite well. 

So, there you go. Since then I have taken numerous classes over the years and always come away wanting more.  There's just something about learning. I like diggin' around in the who, what and why's of stuff.  Some people would consider that being annoyingly curious; bordering on intrusive.  I just wanna know... is that so wrong??

The moral of the story: having a boyfriend can even make school look good.

Padawan

It happened quite by accident.  I was sifting through the local yellow pages looking for someone local who could print t-shirts.  I was heading up the committee for the year 2000 'Grue Reunion' and I decided we needed to A) have something fun to wear and B) have a way to generate income for future reunions.  So I saw this ad that immediately caught my attention, for a shop called 'Big Cranium Design' which had as a logo the skull of a neanderthal man with a cartoon light bulb over it.  Too cute!  I called this number and arranged a meeting with the designer/printer for the next day.  Heading into the coffee shop this big guy in jeans and a t-shirt, with long curly hair and beard comes over and introduces himself.

Paddy & Stacey

And that is how I met Paddy... who's Irish... and has a big head.

We sat down over coffee and talked for over 2 hours.  It was an automatic click.  What started off as a small business venture blossomed into a full fledged, deep and abiding friendship.   I love that he breaks the stereotype of a big, long haired, punk rockin', fist flailing biker dude.  He loves his sweet Stacey, his mam & da, his (late) dog,  his brothers, friends, family and is great with kids.  He treats people with respect, but would not hesitate to fight to protect those he loves.  He's extremely funny, tells great stories and is uber talented on many different levels.  And he's my young Padawan.   He is, without a doubt, the brother I never had.

Paddy is also an amazing graphic designer and printer, (if you ever drink Nelson Brewery beer, he designed all the labels, not to mention the Big White logo) and on the side he is the resident drummer in the tribute band 'BC/DC' which hop around the country doing gigs quite regularly.  If they ever show up in your town, I encourage you to go.  They're good.  Very good.  And if you do, go up and meet Paddy (he'll be the one with the Guiness in hand); tell him I sent you... you'll soon see what I mean.

http://www.bcdc.ca/
http://www.bigcranium.com/

Check 'em out!