Have you ever been so smitten by a TV show host that your toes curl? Well, that's the emotional position I found myself in last night when I finally was able to watch the end of ...."The Daily". Tears hung in the air.... and on my cheeks, and the cheeks of all the viewers and the live audience. Tears hung in the corner of the eyes of the camera crew, the behind the scenes crew, the correspondents. And tears of course, from Jon himself... brought on at first by an unscripted, gut retching "thanks" to Jon that only Stephen Colbert could pull off.
Many more tears to follow. A wonderful video showing the backstage crew in all their humourous wonder. Pan to camera 3... on to Jon's final monologue. "Bullshit is everywhere.... and vigilance is our best defence against bullshit. So if you smell something, say something". Jon's anti-bullshit vaccine should serve us well for many years to come.
So.... Bullshit, smell is, call it. Thanks Jon. (sniff)
Sunday, 9 August 2015
Monday, 3 June 2013
tri-coloured foam
How do you know what exactly the tricoloured foam in the carwash is supposed to do, and how do you know if it actually doing this? Finally washed the dirty filthy environmentally friendly car that is my second hand Prius today. It was looking sad. (there I go anthropomorphising my car again). It had been so long since I had washed my car, I actually sprung for the "full-meal deal" of car washes.... the "ULTRA". Now, don't you go asking why any self-respecting environmentally oriented individual would head to the car wash instead of WASHING THE CAR BY HERSELF, I just did. Maybe it was the sprained ankle, the shortage of time, that fact that I almost always do it...
Ok, less self-indulgent guilt and back to the point... this stuff does what..?? exactly that ordinary foam doesn't do? The only thing I can think of is that is comes with the undercarriage and side panel spray. Any other reason for it's existence would be purely speculative. Although there is some info online about it being some type of extra protective wax/polish, why does it need to be dyed like an Easter egg? My bet is that it is all smoke and mirrors. Makes the kids in the car say "wow"... you could even get them excited!!... "Watch for it kids... here it comes!!! OOOooooh!" Great, $2 extra for 15 seconds of entertainment for the kids.
So, before you come to the conclusion that this blog today is only a rant, I am hunting for the meaning behind this pathetic experience of mine today. It is important to find out what you are paying for, the bang for your buck. To me, it was just a passing whim, something that I thought might extend the life of the black paint job on my car (oh, I am soooo over black). But to someone else it could have been dinner. (not the foam, the $2 could have paid for dinner, silly). So, next time I'll try to resist the temptation to carwash, and instead, wash it myself or politely badger my son into doing it for me. And spend the money on something useful, not just colour for the foam. Hey, I have an idea! What if everyone took that extra $2 and did something really important with it? Buy a sandwich for someone asking for a handout on the street....( no, that would be 4 car washes). But better yet, how about donating the money you were going to spend on something that is only appearance focused... like your next tube of mascara, or plastic surgical intervention? Probably 10 kids in an undeveloped nation could their cleft palates fixed. (donate to OperationSmile). Your local food bank could sure the money. The list goes on. Do. Some. Good.
Ok, less self-indulgent guilt and back to the point... this stuff does what..?? exactly that ordinary foam doesn't do? The only thing I can think of is that is comes with the undercarriage and side panel spray. Any other reason for it's existence would be purely speculative. Although there is some info online about it being some type of extra protective wax/polish, why does it need to be dyed like an Easter egg? My bet is that it is all smoke and mirrors. Makes the kids in the car say "wow"... you could even get them excited!!... "Watch for it kids... here it comes!!! OOOooooh!" Great, $2 extra for 15 seconds of entertainment for the kids.
So, before you come to the conclusion that this blog today is only a rant, I am hunting for the meaning behind this pathetic experience of mine today. It is important to find out what you are paying for, the bang for your buck. To me, it was just a passing whim, something that I thought might extend the life of the black paint job on my car (oh, I am soooo over black). But to someone else it could have been dinner. (not the foam, the $2 could have paid for dinner, silly). So, next time I'll try to resist the temptation to carwash, and instead, wash it myself or politely badger my son into doing it for me. And spend the money on something useful, not just colour for the foam. Hey, I have an idea! What if everyone took that extra $2 and did something really important with it? Buy a sandwich for someone asking for a handout on the street....( no, that would be 4 car washes). But better yet, how about donating the money you were going to spend on something that is only appearance focused... like your next tube of mascara, or plastic surgical intervention? Probably 10 kids in an undeveloped nation could their cleft palates fixed. (donate to OperationSmile). Your local food bank could sure the money. The list goes on. Do. Some. Good.
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
unfair
How many times do you have to relearn that life is not fair, before you finally learn it? Well, for me, this is a harder concept than I thought. Here I am again, being hit upside the face with the cataclysmic realisation that good does not always triumph over evil, that bad things happen to good people and thoughtful, compassionate, research informed planning does not always prevail over career building, power mongering, ill-thought out and poorly conceived "models of care".
Ironically, I thought it was quite important that my kids learn early that life was not fair. I didn't belabour the point, but as they were fairly privileged in their early lives, I recall trying to find "teachable moments" (the parenting buzzword of the decade my kids were born). No sense in having your kids hit the world in their mid-teens thinking that life was going to be fair. Better that they have parental support to recover from their disillusionment, rather than the cruel taunting of peers.
So, what to do, what to do? Avoid life by hiding in your bedroom with PVRed reruns of Oprah, tea and a fluffy kitten? No, get out there and take risks, have adventure, love deeply, live for the moment...THEN go back to your bedroom to recoup. After all, we do need to have ways to unwind and self-soothe after facing the vicissitudes of the world. Rest. Breathe. Cuz... shit. just. happens.
Shit. Just. Happens.
Ironically, I thought it was quite important that my kids learn early that life was not fair. I didn't belabour the point, but as they were fairly privileged in their early lives, I recall trying to find "teachable moments" (the parenting buzzword of the decade my kids were born). No sense in having your kids hit the world in their mid-teens thinking that life was going to be fair. Better that they have parental support to recover from their disillusionment, rather than the cruel taunting of peers.
So, what to do, what to do? Avoid life by hiding in your bedroom with PVRed reruns of Oprah, tea and a fluffy kitten? No, get out there and take risks, have adventure, love deeply, live for the moment...THEN go back to your bedroom to recoup. After all, we do need to have ways to unwind and self-soothe after facing the vicissitudes of the world. Rest. Breathe. Cuz... shit. just. happens.
Shit. Just. Happens.
Saturday, 15 December 2012
Newtown, Connecticut
How can someone walk into a store and buy an assault weapon or a handgun in the United States? The NRA says "Now is not the time to talk about gun control, now is the time to mourn for the victims". I may be flawd, but I say this is the BEST time to honour the dead... by talking about gun control.
Gun advocates are now saying "Let's arm the schools! Better protect our children!". I may be flawd, but I say guns are NEVER the answer. Some are saying "Where's the money for the mentally ill?? I may be flawd, but mental illness can appear in unlikely people in an unpredictable way. BUT WHAT IF YOU COULDN'T BUY A GUN...
Some will say it's not my country, I have no right. But it's my world too, OUR world. Imagine all the people...
Gun advocates are now saying "Let's arm the schools! Better protect our children!". I may be flawd, but I say guns are NEVER the answer. Some are saying "Where's the money for the mentally ill?? I may be flawd, but mental illness can appear in unlikely people in an unpredictable way. BUT WHAT IF YOU COULDN'T BUY A GUN...
Some will say it's not my country, I have no right. But it's my world too, OUR world. Imagine all the people...
Sunday, 25 November 2012
end of the world
How do you write about the last month of the Mayan calendar with a one word title? Yeah... I couldn't think of anything. Besides, as far as the Mayans were concerned, this is a big month! More than one word in the title? Befitting! Now, I don't actually believe that 3:11 a.m. Vancouver time on December 21, 2012 is going to be the end of the world. I've seen the movie, and predict this won't be the case. But suppose you are just a teeny bit superstitious? Will this little bit of fear motivate you to change your behaviour in any way? I'm experimenting with trying to change mine. Life is too short to not be happy and helpful to others way more of the time. Life is too short...
So... for the next month, I will be trying to do something intentional to make me or someone else happier as often as I can. I started on November 21st. Work, 9:00 a.m. meeting, something about The Second Era of Limbo (see October 3, 2012, tale). In a year's time, this meeting will likely be irrelevant and an extra long hot-tub with my beau seemed like a better idea. Much happier!! Always wanted to take voice lessons, do a restorative yoga class... signed up and signed up! Stay clear of the haters (or make them the recipient of a random act of kindness). Spend more time with people I love. Move more, sleep more, stress less.
Spent the evening playing Scrabble with my son tonight. While we watched SNL and listened to songs from the H.M.S Pinafore and Pirates of Penzance. He's winning so far. Sent flowers to my mom on her birthday today. Happy, happy, happy.
Tomorrow, who knows? Sleeping, eating a good healthy breakfast, some work I need to catch up on at the office (only for a short time), some gym time on the elliptical, the Grey Cup game and a salmon cooking lesson. Trying to find happiness doing laundry, happiness doing anything. Maybe I'll get some early secret Santa presents for the secretaries at work. Another big thing that's happening is all the planning for our "We survived the End of the World Party" on December 21st! What a better way to spend the end of the Mayan calendar than with great friends and family.Or the beginning of the world without the Mayan Calendar. One door closes, another door opens. You just have to be close enough to have a chance of making that door. Keep your eyes open. You never know when one random act of kindness may change the course of the universe. Or change one person's life. Or yours. Seize this day!
Saturday, 20 October 2012
dogs
How do you handle having barking dogs as neighbours? Not easily as far as I'm concerned. The dogs bark when I chop broccoli. They bark when I turn on the shower. When the dishes get done, when the recycling needs to go out, and when I ride home on my bike from work. When I put on the kitchen fan. Bark, bark, bark. Our neighbour is a cop, and he doesn't really seem to care all that much if the dogs disturb us. In fact, I think he wants these family pets to be kinda guard dogs. Even though they are yellow labs.
They get let out at 600 am in the morning on the weekends, and the dogs bark at squirrels, raccoons, crows... and when I flush the toilet. Then eventually they get let back in. But only after our mornings to sleep in and catch up on sleep from the work week are long gone. I've taken to feeding them chicken bacon, you know, when they are quiet. Training dogs that aren't mine. Because they bark when we watch TV, when we have guests over for a BBQ, and when we turn on the lights at night. When I sneeze.
I even got aggressive this summer. Had just had enough. Shouted back at the dogs and the neighbours, (after a glass of wine or three.)... as if that would help. All I did was embarrass myself in front of dinner guests. Bark, bark, bark. There really is no moral to this story. I could end by saying I have found compassion for the dogs and our neighbours... but that would be a lie. That I have developed patience and tolerance. That I have risen above the din. Alas... that would not be the case. So... who knows. Maybe they'll move. Maybe our neighbour will get tired of the barking too. Maybe my chicken bacon training will work. Bark. Bark. Bark.
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
tale
How do you write a story about a grave injustice happening to a patient group who cannot protect themselves, when you have been forbidden to talk. You write a fairy tale....
Once upon a time, there were people helping people. People with passion helping people in need. These passionate people travelled far and wide to find new potions, new spells and become the best helpers they could be. They even discovered their own spells and incantations and more of the people in need felt better about themselves and began to thrive. The Gods smiled down on them and gave them riches to continue their good work as they were pleased. The passionate people thrived as well, and this inspired even greater work.
But then, after a great mayor had died, a New Mayor came from a foreign land and had the favour of a New Evil Lord. The Gods were blinded and dazzled by the New Mayor. The New Mayor cast a powerful spell of old, dark magic and the Gods could only see the work of the New Mayor as pleasing and good. The New Mayor's sinister ways were hidden from the Gods. Dark times fell on the passionate people. They were told to stop inventing new potions and not to challenge the authority of the New Mayor and the New Evil Lord. Their pleas were met with shunning and banishment. The New Mayor conjured another dark spell and the passionate people had their voices taken from them. They fell silent and the long Era of Despair was upon them.
Eventually, New Mayor tired of this land and found a way to be elected to the High Court of the Realm. The Next Mayor was chosen from among the passionate people and the spell of the taken voices was broken. This led to the Era of the Lull. There was some passion to found again, and some cautious optimism permeated the land. But alas, this was not to be. The Evil Lord, sensing the return of the good works of the passionate people, turned to the Gods and prevailed upon them to see the folly of the passionate peoples' ways. The Storms fell on the land and the Great War on Passion was upon them. The Gods mood darkened and they too forbade the passionate people from talking about the the Great War. No more troops could be rallied. The Evil Lord dictated what spells and potions the passionate people could use and the people in need began to suffer. The Great War on Passion led to the Second Era of Limbo. The passionate people knew they must find a way out of Limbo, but how? To. Be. Continued...
Once upon a time, there were people helping people. People with passion helping people in need. These passionate people travelled far and wide to find new potions, new spells and become the best helpers they could be. They even discovered their own spells and incantations and more of the people in need felt better about themselves and began to thrive. The Gods smiled down on them and gave them riches to continue their good work as they were pleased. The passionate people thrived as well, and this inspired even greater work.
But then, after a great mayor had died, a New Mayor came from a foreign land and had the favour of a New Evil Lord. The Gods were blinded and dazzled by the New Mayor. The New Mayor cast a powerful spell of old, dark magic and the Gods could only see the work of the New Mayor as pleasing and good. The New Mayor's sinister ways were hidden from the Gods. Dark times fell on the passionate people. They were told to stop inventing new potions and not to challenge the authority of the New Mayor and the New Evil Lord. Their pleas were met with shunning and banishment. The New Mayor conjured another dark spell and the passionate people had their voices taken from them. They fell silent and the long Era of Despair was upon them.
Eventually, New Mayor tired of this land and found a way to be elected to the High Court of the Realm. The Next Mayor was chosen from among the passionate people and the spell of the taken voices was broken. This led to the Era of the Lull. There was some passion to found again, and some cautious optimism permeated the land. But alas, this was not to be. The Evil Lord, sensing the return of the good works of the passionate people, turned to the Gods and prevailed upon them to see the folly of the passionate peoples' ways. The Storms fell on the land and the Great War on Passion was upon them. The Gods mood darkened and they too forbade the passionate people from talking about the the Great War. No more troops could be rallied. The Evil Lord dictated what spells and potions the passionate people could use and the people in need began to suffer. The Great War on Passion led to the Second Era of Limbo. The passionate people knew they must find a way out of Limbo, but how? To. Be. Continued...
Saturday, 22 September 2012
grey
And so what if it is someones fantasy that just happens to take us back decades as far as womens' rights are concerned? Do we older women need to protest, demonstrate and boycott (again) so that younger women get the message that we don't have to be objects to have satisfying, committed relationship? Or, maybe, they know this already, and that's why a book like this can outsell Harry Potter. Because it's nothing new, nothing to get upset about. Maybe we (I) need to trust that enough change has happened in relationships between people (men and women, women and women, men and men) that the readers don't think of this as something to be emulated, just as the fluff it is. Hope. Fingers crossed.
Saturday, 18 August 2012
signal
How does one navigate the streets (be it driving, cycling or hoofing it) when a fair number of folks seem to have forgotten their drivers-ed? If they ever even had any to start with. Signalling, that's what I am referring to.
My, my... these poor folks are under the delusion that there are no other cars on the road, that it's all just for them. Sure, they check their blind spots, but then they don't signal?!? I don't get it. Rules of the road, man. And ya don't see the police out there in force handing out tickets for this.
I've tried the little "reminder honk" (not when my husband is in the car mind you) to no avail. Like they haven't got a clue. I've tried my imaginary bazooka that pops out of my hood. I no longer attempt to drive around in front of them and wag my finger and point pointedly at their signal lights. It's too late by then and I look crazy. At least in my car, I have the security of several airbags and a ton of steel should anything really come of it, but as a cyclist or pedestrian, I wouldn't be so lucky.
So is this a broader kind of signal for all of us to pick up on? In this "me, me, me" society, can't we look out for each other just a little bit more? Maybe I should stop bitching and make sure at least I am signalling. Try to care about those on the road behind me and signal my intentions. Maybe that lack of a signal from those other cars means they are stressed, troubled, or depressed and I should give them a break. Fire my bazooka of compassion at them. Take my foot off the accelerator and coast (until someone behind me starts to honk.) Be a leaf in the river of traffic. Save gas. Signal... more... care.
My, my... these poor folks are under the delusion that there are no other cars on the road, that it's all just for them. Sure, they check their blind spots, but then they don't signal?!? I don't get it. Rules of the road, man. And ya don't see the police out there in force handing out tickets for this.
I've tried the little "reminder honk" (not when my husband is in the car mind you) to no avail. Like they haven't got a clue. I've tried my imaginary bazooka that pops out of my hood. I no longer attempt to drive around in front of them and wag my finger and point pointedly at their signal lights. It's too late by then and I look crazy. At least in my car, I have the security of several airbags and a ton of steel should anything really come of it, but as a cyclist or pedestrian, I wouldn't be so lucky.
So is this a broader kind of signal for all of us to pick up on? In this "me, me, me" society, can't we look out for each other just a little bit more? Maybe I should stop bitching and make sure at least I am signalling. Try to care about those on the road behind me and signal my intentions. Maybe that lack of a signal from those other cars means they are stressed, troubled, or depressed and I should give them a break. Fire my bazooka of compassion at them. Take my foot off the accelerator and coast (until someone behind me starts to honk.) Be a leaf in the river of traffic. Save gas. Signal... more... care.
Monday, 13 August 2012
biking
How sore do your knees have to get when you start biking to work before you realise you're too old to make this kind of commitment? How sweaty do you have to get? And how short of breath? It's only 20 minutes, I told myself... and back... later. But the hills that seemed inconsequential in a car, or even by foot, feel like Mount Everest (to me) on a bike. (ok, I exaggerate, Mount Kilimanjaro).
It started out innocuously enough. Just back from two weeks of vacation when I was active most days. Walking, swimming, cycling. It seemed easy to exercise when it was all you had to do in a day. (other than read good books, watch the Olympics, cook, eat, and sleep.) A trial run to work by bike revealed many tune-up needs that were swiftly dealt with at the local cycle shop. (everyone gets their bikes tuned in the spring, I discovered) Then, the learning points. Too tired to get ready the night before. (error number 1). Alarm clock set in the dark. (error number 2) Missing bungee cord (did have one though), indecision about shoes (Teva sandals had to do double duty on the bike and at work), attaching my purse and bundle of clothes to the back of the bike before locking the door, (extra time to dig the keys back out that I didn't have) and not leaving enough time to cool down at work before having to get into a dress and head off to the first meeting (sweat dribbling down my back, double yuck). Error, error, error...
Or is that the point. It's hard to get things right the first time in lots of things in life. There's always tomorrow. Lots of work colleagues seemed impressed (?!?). Cheered me on. Little did they know how hard it was. Or was it? I am home now safe and sound. It's ok to to sweat and cool down while you're plunking away at your own computer. The weather tomorrow is forcast to be sunny and a high of 23 degrees. Perfect cycling weather. You just never know....Trial. Error. Repeat.
It started out innocuously enough. Just back from two weeks of vacation when I was active most days. Walking, swimming, cycling. It seemed easy to exercise when it was all you had to do in a day. (other than read good books, watch the Olympics, cook, eat, and sleep.) A trial run to work by bike revealed many tune-up needs that were swiftly dealt with at the local cycle shop. (everyone gets their bikes tuned in the spring, I discovered) Then, the learning points. Too tired to get ready the night before. (error number 1). Alarm clock set in the dark. (error number 2) Missing bungee cord (did have one though), indecision about shoes (Teva sandals had to do double duty on the bike and at work), attaching my purse and bundle of clothes to the back of the bike before locking the door, (extra time to dig the keys back out that I didn't have) and not leaving enough time to cool down at work before having to get into a dress and head off to the first meeting (sweat dribbling down my back, double yuck). Error, error, error...
Or is that the point. It's hard to get things right the first time in lots of things in life. There's always tomorrow. Lots of work colleagues seemed impressed (?!?). Cheered me on. Little did they know how hard it was. Or was it? I am home now safe and sound. It's ok to to sweat and cool down while you're plunking away at your own computer. The weather tomorrow is forcast to be sunny and a high of 23 degrees. Perfect cycling weather. You just never know....Trial. Error. Repeat.
Friday, 16 March 2012
moving
How do you start moving again after a long, dark, rainy winter? No, this blog isn't about packing up and relocating. Even though lots of people are doing just that at this time of year. It's about what to do when the aches set in and keep you on the couch even when the sun peaks it's lovely head out from behind the clouds. I haven't totally retreated to the couch. There was some amount of skiing that happened as well as the occasional power walk on the beach and a few snowy walks (along with icy falls) during the xmas holiday break to see the mom. But today I have the day off and I had absolutely no excuse to not hit the pool or the seawall, on foot or with my bike.
Instead, I set about to try to read those darn "new and improved" google privacy rules. The ones they keep telling you are not to be dismissed and are really important. The ones that came into effect on March 1, 2012. The ones that are supposed to be shorter and less complicated to read. After a good hour I have determined that I need a techno geek to help me decipher them and figure out what is important to me and what is not. Do I want ads geared to my age group and sex? If not, will I get fewer or more ads? Do I have to get ads at all? Google seems to even know my hotmail account user name I use to play MSN games on-line. How creepy is that?
So, the internet seems to be moving forward in some strange direction and I can't figure it out. I started out on the world wide web at the very beginning of it all. I always thought I'd be able to keep up, protect my identity and escape the perils of how interconnected we all are. Reap the benefits. Miss the down side. Alas, I fear this is not to be. Google has up and changed the rules, and I can't figure them out! (Repetitive, aren't I) Rather than worry, I think I'd be much better off getting up and seeking out people who have read the rules and understand them. Give me the Coles notes version, or the "Google's New Privacy Rules for Dummies" book. I know, I can go out for an early morning walk with my wonderful running (er, walking) group tomorrow. They'll know. Get moving, catch up. I hope. Maybe. Move. Learn. Connect.
Instead, I set about to try to read those darn "new and improved" google privacy rules. The ones they keep telling you are not to be dismissed and are really important. The ones that came into effect on March 1, 2012. The ones that are supposed to be shorter and less complicated to read. After a good hour I have determined that I need a techno geek to help me decipher them and figure out what is important to me and what is not. Do I want ads geared to my age group and sex? If not, will I get fewer or more ads? Do I have to get ads at all? Google seems to even know my hotmail account user name I use to play MSN games on-line. How creepy is that?
So, the internet seems to be moving forward in some strange direction and I can't figure it out. I started out on the world wide web at the very beginning of it all. I always thought I'd be able to keep up, protect my identity and escape the perils of how interconnected we all are. Reap the benefits. Miss the down side. Alas, I fear this is not to be. Google has up and changed the rules, and I can't figure them out! (Repetitive, aren't I) Rather than worry, I think I'd be much better off getting up and seeking out people who have read the rules and understand them. Give me the Coles notes version, or the "Google's New Privacy Rules for Dummies" book. I know, I can go out for an early morning walk with my wonderful running (er, walking) group tomorrow. They'll know. Get moving, catch up. I hope. Maybe. Move. Learn. Connect.
Thursday, 8 December 2011
rant
How do you cope with all the silly things famous people, politicians and everyday people are doing these days. More prisons vs neglecting the environment by not supporting Kyoto? Sure, it's not a great accord and doesn't have a lot of teeth but it's the best we have at the moment and at least a starting place. But really, more prisons when crime rates are dropping and studies done don't support them? Harper must feel pretty good about himself. He has a majority so he can do what he wants too, and doesn't have to listen to scientific evidence.
Then there's Alec Baldwin, getting himself ejected from a plane the other day for having a tantrum when the flight attendant asked him to turn his cell phone off. Like the rest of us have to. So he thinks he's above the everyday in flight rules that we all have to deal with? He holds up a plane and all the other passengers who what to get somewhere on time. Someone else who thinks he can just do what he wants to and doesn't have to listen to others.
And lastly, what about those two elders and their wives who tried to cross the border into Canada with three semi-automatic pistols, a derringer-style pistol, and cowboy-style six gun and a shotgun? This was after they denied having any guns in their motor home. What were they thinking? Is there so little news filtering down from Canada to the States that they had no idea we have different gun laws here? Oh, wait a minute. They did lie to the border guards, so they must have known. A little scared of the true north strong and free, were they? Or was this just another case of someone thinking that Canadian laws didn't apply to they and that they could do what they want to.
Enough ranting. Enjoy this Xmas jingle from a very creative young man from Winnipeg, Sean Quigley.
Ra-pa-pa-pum!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrNcD34KFhM
Then there's Alec Baldwin, getting himself ejected from a plane the other day for having a tantrum when the flight attendant asked him to turn his cell phone off. Like the rest of us have to. So he thinks he's above the everyday in flight rules that we all have to deal with? He holds up a plane and all the other passengers who what to get somewhere on time. Someone else who thinks he can just do what he wants to and doesn't have to listen to others.
And lastly, what about those two elders and their wives who tried to cross the border into Canada with three semi-automatic pistols, a derringer-style pistol, and cowboy-style six gun and a shotgun? This was after they denied having any guns in their motor home. What were they thinking? Is there so little news filtering down from Canada to the States that they had no idea we have different gun laws here? Oh, wait a minute. They did lie to the border guards, so they must have known. A little scared of the true north strong and free, were they? Or was this just another case of someone thinking that Canadian laws didn't apply to they and that they could do what they want to.
Enough ranting. Enjoy this Xmas jingle from a very creative young man from Winnipeg, Sean Quigley.
Ra-pa-pa-pum!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrNcD34KFhM
Monday, 14 November 2011
fall
How do you deal with the bitter reality that summer has gone for another season and the fall blahs are here to stay? "It's cold and damp", I whine. No more glorious walks on a sun drenched beaches. No more garden (only the basil seems to be hanging on for dear life). The leaves are dropping in abundance. Vancouver had it's first windstorm of the season the other day. April seems like a long way away.
It's kinda like the way my body feels these days. Plus, I have already had a cold... drip, drip. Aches and pains, things are dropping (or drooping), no longer the summer body I enjoyed for so long. As the pain killer commercial tells you... "you feel rusty." I don't feel like a trooper today. Plus your body doesn't get an April. There are still the occasional hot flashes to remind me of "warmer" times. I guess they are easier to tolerate in the cool of the fall than the summer heat and humidity.
However... I have a gift certificate for a spa treatment. Squirreled away from last Christmas. I'll likely go slough some dead skin cells, maybe have a spa massage to help with some of these achy muscles. Like oil for those rusty spots. Hoping it will help me put the spring of summer back in my steps for a few days. I may no longer have a summer body, but spring will come back to Vancouver. We'll get the garden in earlier this year I hope. Nothing like watching a garden grow to make you feel young again. I'll try to pretend that's not so long from now. Stretch. Hibernate. Sleep.
It's kinda like the way my body feels these days. Plus, I have already had a cold... drip, drip. Aches and pains, things are dropping (or drooping), no longer the summer body I enjoyed for so long. As the pain killer commercial tells you... "you feel rusty." I don't feel like a trooper today. Plus your body doesn't get an April. There are still the occasional hot flashes to remind me of "warmer" times. I guess they are easier to tolerate in the cool of the fall than the summer heat and humidity.
However... I have a gift certificate for a spa treatment. Squirreled away from last Christmas. I'll likely go slough some dead skin cells, maybe have a spa massage to help with some of these achy muscles. Like oil for those rusty spots. Hoping it will help me put the spring of summer back in my steps for a few days. I may no longer have a summer body, but spring will come back to Vancouver. We'll get the garden in earlier this year I hope. Nothing like watching a garden grow to make you feel young again. I'll try to pretend that's not so long from now. Stretch. Hibernate. Sleep.
Monday, 17 October 2011
hockey
How do you go back to watching the Vancouver Canucks after such a brilliant season, but such a "hopes dashed" finish? I'm torn. The fall TV line-up is less than stellar, otherwise I think I would have waited until the end of November to tune into the Canucks again. They have been a better December/January team than early fall, and I'm having trouble handling the losses. I know that Luongo hung in for his first win of the season during the last game, but the possibility of a loss was always there.
Besides, at the end of last season I had my hospital stint thrown into the mix of emotions that was happening around the playoffs, missed several games when I was on a ventilator, and was in hospital about 5 blocks away from the riot when it broke out. What were those people thinking? Let's give our city a black-eye for all of the North American hockey viewing audience to see? I could see the orange smoke from my hospital window and hear the helicopters circling overhead. The "code orange" alerts (mass casualties) rang every 15 minutes for most of the night, depriving us sick people of a decent night sleep. The poor nurses were rattled and weren't allowed to leave due to the code orange. Sigh.
So, do you cheer for the Canucks again, in hopes of them getting to the Stanley cup finals again, and hold your breath that the nitwits don't make their way downtown again on the last night? (Assuming that the city won't host a downtown venue again, the rioters spoiled that for the other thousands of people who just wanted to have a good time.) Or do you watch the Canucks reluctantly, with apprehension and less than the end of the year enthusiasm we all had in June. Well, I guess I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed and wish for fewer injuries, more goals, more wins and fewer shootouts. Wish. Hope. Sigh.
Besides, at the end of last season I had my hospital stint thrown into the mix of emotions that was happening around the playoffs, missed several games when I was on a ventilator, and was in hospital about 5 blocks away from the riot when it broke out. What were those people thinking? Let's give our city a black-eye for all of the North American hockey viewing audience to see? I could see the orange smoke from my hospital window and hear the helicopters circling overhead. The "code orange" alerts (mass casualties) rang every 15 minutes for most of the night, depriving us sick people of a decent night sleep. The poor nurses were rattled and weren't allowed to leave due to the code orange. Sigh.
So, do you cheer for the Canucks again, in hopes of them getting to the Stanley cup finals again, and hold your breath that the nitwits don't make their way downtown again on the last night? (Assuming that the city won't host a downtown venue again, the rioters spoiled that for the other thousands of people who just wanted to have a good time.) Or do you watch the Canucks reluctantly, with apprehension and less than the end of the year enthusiasm we all had in June. Well, I guess I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed and wish for fewer injuries, more goals, more wins and fewer shootouts. Wish. Hope. Sigh.
Friday, 2 September 2011
hummer
How do you line up in an orderly fashion to go through the car wash? Do you buy your ticket first and then get into line? Or, like this certain hummer (licence plate 471 KMD) in Vancouver today... park and block the line, while you buy your ticket? I have to admit, I have an attitude problem about hummers. And sitting behind this gold hummer that didn't even look like it needed a car wash didn't help. One tiny woman and this huge piece of steel... it just doesn't make sense to me. Especially in Vancouver, you know, where there are just so many steep, unpaved, muddy roads to be driven on (and this did not look like an off road hummer). And me with my Prius (and my ticket!), waiting for her to get her ticket and tapping my nails on the steering wheel... impatiently.
I think I actually got out of the car when she came back and said something snide like "oh, you're the one who is blocking the line!". The she said something back (you can imagine) that thankfully I couldn't hear because I had my car radio too loud and got into her gold hummer. So much for building patience, building up my karma points... I had been smug and annoyed and let her know. Then I shifted into feeling foolish for letting it get to me so much... childish, silly comment that I made to her.
So, as I was writing today, I was looking up a picture of a hummer to embellish this blog and low and behold... I found out that hummers are being phased out!!! Apparently they were not selling and GM wasn't able to find a buyer for them about 2 years ago during one of their government bailouts so ... I felt smug again. And then childish again. Sigh. But overall it is a good thing. Fewer big gas guzzling cars on the road, fewer hummer drivers (and their "everyone will just have to wait because I am a hummer owner and I deserve to be first in line even if I don't have a ticket" attitude) blocking the car wash. Do people who care more about the environment care more about others, think more about others, are less self-centred? Wait a minute... maybe I should have washed my car by hand? Or just left it dirty? Wash. Rinse. Dry.
I think I actually got out of the car when she came back and said something snide like "oh, you're the one who is blocking the line!". The she said something back (you can imagine) that thankfully I couldn't hear because I had my car radio too loud and got into her gold hummer. So much for building patience, building up my karma points... I had been smug and annoyed and let her know. Then I shifted into feeling foolish for letting it get to me so much... childish, silly comment that I made to her.
So, as I was writing today, I was looking up a picture of a hummer to embellish this blog and low and behold... I found out that hummers are being phased out!!! Apparently they were not selling and GM wasn't able to find a buyer for them about 2 years ago during one of their government bailouts so ... I felt smug again. And then childish again. Sigh. But overall it is a good thing. Fewer big gas guzzling cars on the road, fewer hummer drivers (and their "everyone will just have to wait because I am a hummer owner and I deserve to be first in line even if I don't have a ticket" attitude) blocking the car wash. Do people who care more about the environment care more about others, think more about others, are less self-centred? Wait a minute... maybe I should have washed my car by hand? Or just left it dirty? Wash. Rinse. Dry.
Saturday, 13 August 2011
summer
I'll be on hiatus for 10 days, off the grid, on a lake in Quebec. Canoeing. Swimming. Sun-soaking.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
secrets
How can you be honest when you're asked to keep a secret? It's awkward and challenging, guarding someone else's privacy. Especially when it's from other family members. I value being upfront and direct. It doesn't mean that I can always adhere to that, or that it's always a straightforward thing to do. When I was younger, it was complicated... I felt like I needed to lie to my mom to be able to grow up and branch out. But I desperately wanted to take my own risks that I didn't have to pass by her first. Those little white lies would just roll off my tongue. Once I hit adulthood, I had to work hard to break that bad habit. But, now it feels like "here I go again"... when asked to keep a secret, you end up lying by omission... and it's not very comfortable.
This flies in the face of trying to be scrupulously honest in one's life. Personally, I've found this life principle can have huge advantages. I don't feel like as much of an impostor as I did when I was younger... you know, that "impostor syndrome" when you worry all the time that one false move, and EVERYONE will see you for who you truly are, and it ain't pretty? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to brag about this or anything. It didn't come easily... it was hard work. But when I don't hide much from anyone, there are no secrets, no need to remember to whom I told what... it's strangely relaxing. Maybe some people find it(me) overwhelming... "TMI" and all that. But it quickly weeds out who in my life can handle that much info about me and who I am... and who can't. Like this blog, I guess. People who like what I have to say and want to hear more about me and my ramblings/opinions/musings read it, and those who think it's WAY too much information, just don't.
Secrets can do so much harm when in the wrong hands. Political secrets, secrets about abuse, incest, family secrets, government secrets... you name a group, they'll have a secret. And silencing someone has long been a tool in hands of those who have any kind power. The lack of transparency in governments, work places, and just about any locus of power drives me crazy! But I digress... back to secrets in families and being a part of that. I am really struggling with the usefulness or advisability of this. Everyone hits a time in their life where facing the music isn't pretty, but it's necessary. Secrets keep them from being fully known, warts and all... from knowing themselves better through their relationships with others through all this. I'm all for ripping the bandaid off and seeing how ugly it is underneath. As much as it hurts. Hair and all. Tug. Rip.Youch!
This flies in the face of trying to be scrupulously honest in one's life. Personally, I've found this life principle can have huge advantages. I don't feel like as much of an impostor as I did when I was younger... you know, that "impostor syndrome" when you worry all the time that one false move, and EVERYONE will see you for who you truly are, and it ain't pretty? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to brag about this or anything. It didn't come easily... it was hard work. But when I don't hide much from anyone, there are no secrets, no need to remember to whom I told what... it's strangely relaxing. Maybe some people find it(me) overwhelming... "TMI" and all that. But it quickly weeds out who in my life can handle that much info about me and who I am... and who can't. Like this blog, I guess. People who like what I have to say and want to hear more about me and my ramblings/opinions/musings read it, and those who think it's WAY too much information, just don't.
Secrets can do so much harm when in the wrong hands. Political secrets, secrets about abuse, incest, family secrets, government secrets... you name a group, they'll have a secret. And silencing someone has long been a tool in hands of those who have any kind power. The lack of transparency in governments, work places, and just about any locus of power drives me crazy! But I digress... back to secrets in families and being a part of that. I am really struggling with the usefulness or advisability of this. Everyone hits a time in their life where facing the music isn't pretty, but it's necessary. Secrets keep them from being fully known, warts and all... from knowing themselves better through their relationships with others through all this. I'm all for ripping the bandaid off and seeing how ugly it is underneath. As much as it hurts. Hair and all. Tug. Rip.Youch!
Friday, 29 July 2011
terror experiment update
Ok, so not to keep you in suspense, the experiment yielded interesting and unexpected results (read terror and terror 2 first to understand this entry). And as a true scientist, I am publishing my results and my rambling conclusions and you are free to draw your own as well.
So far, (I know, less that 24 hours) I have had 4 hits, all Canadian. Which leads me to draw the following possible conclusions:
1. Having already triggered all the Homeland Security, FBI and CIA filters I could trigger, they have deemed me safe, and aren't interested in following up with any planned teasing or retriggering on my part.
2. Americans have read up on compassion, fear mongering and black and white thinking since yesterday and are no longer afraid.
3. The 4 Canadian hits were from CSIS, and I need to repeat this experiment using words that might attract more hits from them.
OR...
4. The 17 hits from the States were some kind of fluke I wrote a whole blog about. How embarrassing.
So, next blog will be back to my usual format. Sorry to bother. Nothing ventured...
So far, (I know, less that 24 hours) I have had 4 hits, all Canadian. Which leads me to draw the following possible conclusions:
1. Having already triggered all the Homeland Security, FBI and CIA filters I could trigger, they have deemed me safe, and aren't interested in following up with any planned teasing or retriggering on my part.
2. Americans have read up on compassion, fear mongering and black and white thinking since yesterday and are no longer afraid.
3. The 4 Canadian hits were from CSIS, and I need to repeat this experiment using words that might attract more hits from them.
OR...
4. The 17 hits from the States were some kind of fluke I wrote a whole blog about. How embarrassing.
So, next blog will be back to my usual format. Sorry to bother. Nothing ventured...
Thursday, 28 July 2011
terror 2
How do you top having your first 17 hits in one day from America? OK, I'll admit it, I occasionally check my stats to find out who my audience is. I am flawd after all. Some info for those of you who were like me... blog illiterate until 2 months ago, your blog stats show who has clicked on your blog. So far, I've only told a few Canadian friends and some family I am blogging therefore most of my "views" are Canadian. I've also had some random hits from Germany, Cambodia, Malaysia and 2 from the USA. Until yesterday, that is. I guess all you need to do is write a blog about terror, bombs and fear to attract the attention of America. 17 hits! That's 25% of all my hits! Wow! So, I've decided to try again (daring aren't I?). Hence...duh, duh, duh... terror 2.
Unlike Norway on Friday, there haven't been any more acts of really bad terror in the last 24 hours. Oh wait, that's not true. Someone murdered the mayor of Kabul yesterday and an AWOL US soldier with bombs and Jihadi literature was just arrested near Fort Hood. And certainly, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert talk lots about terror on their late night shows. But I figure that I have to somehow work the words missiles, assassinations and mass destruction in these four meager paragraphs to see if I can score more American attention today. I am thinking... "does Homeland Security, the CIA and the FBI have some kind of filter that picks up crazy bloggers before they can actually blow things up?" If so, how come this guy in Norway didn't set off any alarms? How did they miss that and find me 17 times?
That's why I've decided I'll do this just this one more last time... you know, just enough to tease them but not enough that they come knocking at my door. A theory. I have my personal ethics after all. I'm not THAT crazy a left-wing extremist. Just to test out this theory... what's your wager? More, fewer or the same hits as yesterday? What kinds of words are they looking for? Explosive device? Terrorism? Shoe? Underwear? OK, OK, I can hear my friends warning me that that's enough. But I do also wonder if it's just that these are the kinds of words some run-of-the mill Americans are googling? That's an even bigger question!
To answer that query, I lean toward the teachings of Micheal Moore and South Park. I believe there is a culture of fear. You can be born with black and white thinking but it can also be taught. Can it be un-taught? Only time will tell. I'm an optimist (oops, there's a little bit of personal info that slipped out there). Google "grey thinking or thinkers", there is lots of info out there about this topic. Meditation and compassion training actually change your brain structure... for the better! (sorry if that scared you.) So, here's to all the grey thinkers of the world. Wisdom can come at any age. Hip. Hip. Hur-grey!
Unlike Norway on Friday, there haven't been any more acts of really bad terror in the last 24 hours. Oh wait, that's not true. Someone murdered the mayor of Kabul yesterday and an AWOL US soldier with bombs and Jihadi literature was just arrested near Fort Hood. And certainly, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert talk lots about terror on their late night shows. But I figure that I have to somehow work the words missiles, assassinations and mass destruction in these four meager paragraphs to see if I can score more American attention today. I am thinking... "does Homeland Security, the CIA and the FBI have some kind of filter that picks up crazy bloggers before they can actually blow things up?" If so, how come this guy in Norway didn't set off any alarms? How did they miss that and find me 17 times?
That's why I've decided I'll do this just this one more last time... you know, just enough to tease them but not enough that they come knocking at my door. A theory. I have my personal ethics after all. I'm not THAT crazy a left-wing extremist. Just to test out this theory... what's your wager? More, fewer or the same hits as yesterday? What kinds of words are they looking for? Explosive device? Terrorism? Shoe? Underwear? OK, OK, I can hear my friends warning me that that's enough. But I do also wonder if it's just that these are the kinds of words some run-of-the mill Americans are googling? That's an even bigger question!
To answer that query, I lean toward the teachings of Micheal Moore and South Park. I believe there is a culture of fear. You can be born with black and white thinking but it can also be taught. Can it be un-taught? Only time will tell. I'm an optimist (oops, there's a little bit of personal info that slipped out there). Google "grey thinking or thinkers", there is lots of info out there about this topic. Meditation and compassion training actually change your brain structure... for the better! (sorry if that scared you.) So, here's to all the grey thinkers of the world. Wisdom can come at any age. Hip. Hip. Hur-grey!
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
terror
How do you deal with the likelihood that a terrorist(s) will strike in Canada at some point? It's a hard thing for me to get my mind around. Everyone loves Canada, right? When we were students hitch-hiking across Canada, sewing the Canadian flag on your backpack was considering a very smart this to do. Now that all the American students do it too, it's lost it's value. You're more likely to get mistaken for an American masquerading as a Canadian (and having to put up with the disdain that follows that), (or at least suspicion). So, as we fight side by side with the Americans and NATO in the middle east, how is our world profile now? We used to be peace-keepers. Not sure about that anymore.
Then out of the blue on Friday there was Norway. I always thought of Norway as a peace-keeping country too. Out of the way, keeps it's nose clean. In the first few hours after the bombing in Oslo and the massacre on Utoya, it was most commonly thought that Muslim extremists were behind the death toll. The pundits must have been wildly typing away on Google to come up with reasons for "why Norway?". Then the story unfolded... a Norwegian right-wing crazy. Some will judge me for using the "c" word. But really, it's what we all think when we use the word "extremist". Some will judge me for using the word crazy in the same sentence as "right-wing". Sigh. More on that in another blog.
Then... THEN...there was Stephen Hume in his column on Saturday, July 23 in the Vancouver Sun wanting to warn us that Canada was not immune from attacks either. He told us "[we] are of high value as terror targets... precisely because so many of us don't really believe we are". Now, Stephen Hume is one of my favorite columnists in The Sun, so it was quite a shock to realise I disagreed with him. Lots of Vancourites believe we are potential targets. Maybe if you live on a Gulf Island (oops, I guess islands aren't safe anymore, are they?) instead of Vancouver proper, you don't think about terrorist attacks. But in Vancouver, the people I hang out with think about it lots. There are riots here and surveillance cameras. We had the Olympics and lots of security. That was to protect us from what... joyous Canadians? No, it's because there could have been a bomb at any minute. A lot of us know that "something wicked is bound our way". But, what kind of a life is that to live... to be in a perpetual state of fear? Is it a guy thing... to have not been aware that Canada is a potential target? I think it's possible to not be an ostrich, but not be a gun-toting, electric-fence building, fear mongerer either. Women have always known this... don't let your fear keep you from going out at night but keep your wits about you. Live each day, be in the moment. Observe. Breathe. Be.
Then out of the blue on Friday there was Norway. I always thought of Norway as a peace-keeping country too. Out of the way, keeps it's nose clean. In the first few hours after the bombing in Oslo and the massacre on Utoya, it was most commonly thought that Muslim extremists were behind the death toll. The pundits must have been wildly typing away on Google to come up with reasons for "why Norway?". Then the story unfolded... a Norwegian right-wing crazy. Some will judge me for using the "c" word. But really, it's what we all think when we use the word "extremist". Some will judge me for using the word crazy in the same sentence as "right-wing". Sigh. More on that in another blog.
Then... THEN...there was Stephen Hume in his column on Saturday, July 23 in the Vancouver Sun wanting to warn us that Canada was not immune from attacks either. He told us "[we] are of high value as terror targets... precisely because so many of us don't really believe we are". Now, Stephen Hume is one of my favorite columnists in The Sun, so it was quite a shock to realise I disagreed with him. Lots of Vancourites believe we are potential targets. Maybe if you live on a Gulf Island (oops, I guess islands aren't safe anymore, are they?) instead of Vancouver proper, you don't think about terrorist attacks. But in Vancouver, the people I hang out with think about it lots. There are riots here and surveillance cameras. We had the Olympics and lots of security. That was to protect us from what... joyous Canadians? No, it's because there could have been a bomb at any minute. A lot of us know that "something wicked is bound our way". But, what kind of a life is that to live... to be in a perpetual state of fear? Is it a guy thing... to have not been aware that Canada is a potential target? I think it's possible to not be an ostrich, but not be a gun-toting, electric-fence building, fear mongerer either. Women have always known this... don't let your fear keep you from going out at night but keep your wits about you. Live each day, be in the moment. Observe. Breathe. Be.
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