Above: Adam, Allison and Kris

I became a watcher of American Idol this season. It happened without my consent, but here it is the truth. I watch the show every week. I have a couple of friends that watch it as well, however, they will remain nameless. Some of us need to keep our dignity intact. This week, well lets just say the bad smell finally went away although it took a bit of breath holding and faith to get there. Anoop stunk, so did Megan and honey I am not sure you have fans. I think this little singing competition has gone to her head!

I think Danny, Kris and Adam stole the show. I would keep Matt around but, really, he needs to listen to the judges and get back on track. And because the judges wont say it I will. Scott needs to go home. He is not Idol material and he never was. I have a friend that has every right to say it and I agree with her. He got on the show because he is blind and because he is blind no one is honest with him. He would be great in a piano bar but I don’t see singing stardom in his future. I also thought telling him the 80’s do looked great was simply cruel.

I must say that Adam is interesting and I agreed with Kara. I also watch the show to see what he is going to do next. However, my Idol watching friend and I both agree that we could not sit through an all Adam concert. I could take maybe three songs of him screeching at me then I am going home! This guy also needs to stop watching the camera. Make love to something else, watch the audience, stare at your hand, anything, just stop looking in the camera!

To wrap this up, I thought Kris had a killer performance and I really enjoy Allison. What a great singer, not the greatest performance tonight but wow, 16 and all that! I guess that just leaves Lil. Too bad for you tonight, I like her voice but it was old and dull. She needs to step up.

Although I do not vote, for sure and without a doubt the bottom 3 are, Anoop, Megan and Scott. I think of those 3 Anoop should hit the road. Actually I say that because I think he let me down. I liked him and he so hot and cold, he cannot seem to pull it together. Really, it would be a toss up between the great yawn Megan and the smoky piano bar Scott. I am going to say good-bye Megan. Well, come guys I can’t say Scott, he is blind!

Detroit's Decline

I recently viewed these pictures on the Time Magazine website. It is a photo essay of the decline of Detroit. I was shocked at the obvious neglect of the structures in the downtown core of the City. I wonder, where is the leadership in this City? How irresponsible to allow the place to rot and become unlivable. I also wonder what the citizens of the City are thinking. Have they attempted to do something constructive about this situation? Maybe I am being simplistic but it seems to me that if they got together and demanded change, change would come. The pictures tell a story of what a lack of leadership combined with a lack of caring can do to a community. The picture above is William Livingstone House. The preservation society moved the house in an attempt to save it. Unfortunately, the house had to be demolished. They lost a part of Detroit's history. The upside is, apparently I am mistaken, and there is a group of people that care about what is going on.


The picture, below top, is a room at the Lee Palace Hotel. One of Detroit's finest. It was closed in the early 1990's. Furniture and appliances were left in the rooms to rot. I think that is a crime. Why not remove all the workable usable things and donate or sell them off?






To the bottom of the Lee Palace Hotel room is the Wilbur Wright School. It closed in 2005 and this is how they left it. What an outrage that City and School officials allowed this to happen.



Finally, this is the United Artists Theater. It was built in 1928 and closed in the 1970's. It too was left to rot. How sad to lose such a grand piece of architecture and history.

What a huge challenge it would be to turn this all around. It is possible however, it will take strong leadership and someone to reengage the community. Until then I guess it will all continue to rot. To view the entire photo essay check out Time and to view more work from the Photographers check out Yves Marchand and Roman Meffre's site.

Noticing

Somewhere along the way my thinking got lazy. I joined the status quo and started accepting everything at face value. I noticed today that people do some amazing things and that accepting life for what it appears to be is fatal, a form of living dead. I think what prompted this thought was seeing a guy on a skateboard with a camera system. As he moved the camera remained stationary allowing him to film the movement around him without adding to it. Ingenious.

Then across the busy street I notice a performer lying on the ground bouncing a ball on his feet. That is a unique way of making a living! The rest of us walk past him, maybe cast a glance or toss a coin, but we keep our pace. The pace of our lives must not be interrupted. I suddenly wish I had my camera to capture some of these moments. Beside me, arranging herself in the sun is a woman in pink; a cigarette and a pink laptop are the props of her life. Then a child gives into her fear of being left alone and chases after her Mother with both her feet and her voice. Then a young man gives away his station and lack of respect when he leans over and spits on the sidewalk. As he walks way I notice his un-tucked shirt hanging out from under his jacket.

I think most of walk with the gait of acceptance. We cannot change or impact the things around us. As we move through the space we want to, for the most part, go unnoticed. We certainly do not want to have attention drawn to us as the crazy man yells out his threats of damnation. We duck and swerve to ensure we are at a safe distance. In the mall, as in our lives, we select things that are made for the masses. We avoid our individuality, not wanting to flirt with the danger. We wear our garments like our thoughts. We place them on so we will fit in and be accepted.

But like I said earlier I noticed that some people are doing amazing things. They walk on the outside of the branding. They forge their own experiences without concern. They thrive on being left behind. They look for the ones among us that have something different to say and they consider it. I wonder if they have a secret code. Like gay men had with handkerchiefs; they have some way of spotting another of their kind. I think they do. I think it is through a look in the eye or a carefully crafted question that they recognize one and other. They connect silently across the tops of the masses and agree to meet and share. I think that and I know this because Starbucks and Second Cup are always full.

Dying Green Love One Month Later

It has been one month since the great Starbucks betrayal. I have missed my drink and dropping into the various Starbucks locations. There is a void there, a bit of an empty space. I had a lot of laughs with the partners in those stores. The drink on the other hand, I do not miss that much. Once or twice I wanted one, the fleeting memory of enjoying a Chai. I must say that for the most part I am glad to be done with the habit, the addiction.

I am also thrilled with the financial savings. $143.84 over the 31 one days I have not had one. That amount only accounts for the Chai, not any cookies or pastries I would sometimes buy to go with it. I am also happy to have the freedom. Not needing to find a Starbucks to get a drink. And before you start rolling your eyes I hope that you can say you have not and never have had an addiction. I get that Chai might seem like an odd addiction but then I bet you are in Tim’s or brewing yourself a pot of coffee every morning. Now that the Chai is gone I am addiction free. Can you say the same thing?
Ok, if you can then roll your eyes cause I get it, this is a kind of eye rolling issue.

I have considered sending Starbucks a thank you e-mail. Look at all the money they have saved me. In this economy that is a huge favour. I still hope they recover however, as I own stock. So, get thee to a Starbucks and buy something to make up for their $143.84 short fall!

My Dying Green Love

Starbucks and I have broken up. I know it is hard to believe. After 8 years and just prior to Valentines Day one of my longest running love affairs is coming to a close. I am crest fallen and feel sad and lost. I wonder how they could have changed the soymilk without asking me. How could they do that? My Grande Soy no water no foam Tazo Chai Latte now tastes like vanilla syrup instead of Chai tea.

Over the past few days I have had to hunt for the final few stores that are still using Silk soymilk. The number of options is running out. It took me 3 stops today and the one location I thought would get me through the weekend will be out tomorrow if not tonight. I have now ruled out 5 maybe 6 locations. I am truly hoping that I will be able to get one last Chai tomorrow. After that I do not know what I am going to do. Is there a Centre for Starbucks Chai addicts to go detox?

I feel a bit of trepidation about all of this. I am losing the one thing I have taken comfort in for the past 8 years. I also think my identity has some how mingled with Starbucks. I worked for them for a year and all my friends buy me Starbucks cards as gifts. Not to mention that my hand has taken on the shape of the Starbucks Grande cup. I even have my own reusable cloth sleeve! I hang out in at least 4 different locations and know Barista’s at 8 or more. I own stock as well, yes the Starbucks stock that has taken a nosedive (35 bucks down to around $9.50), but I held on.

I wonder what I am going to do with my time. I feel a sense of fear when I wonder what I will be doing. There is a fancy new location opening up one block from my home and now I have no reason to go in there! Inside that fear there is also a sense of hope. I am interested, not excited just interested, in what new experiences await me. Where I may find myself now that I will be free of Starbucks. What new things will happen as my hand loses that Grande shape and the green hue fades from my skin? Maybe I will get a date? Maybe.

I just ran some numbers. 365 days per year over 8 years is 2920 days. The average cost of my Latte is $4.88. That little number multiplied by 2920 is 14249.60. Which in currency is $14,294.60! Wow, 8 years from now I can go on a nice trip or something! Also, there is 36 grams of sugar in one Grande Soy no water no foam Tazo Chai Latte. Using the same numbers that is 105120 – 105120 grams of sugar that I have consumed over the past 8 years. How is it that I am not diabetic? I must admit I am looking forward to not having 36 grams of sugar a day, in a drink!

Still, my lover is gone. When I think back over the years I have so many memories. If this were a video flashback there would be scenes of me running, my hair blowing in the wind with a Chai in hand; me throwing my head back in laughter with a Chai in hand; sitting with friends deep in conversation with my Chai in front me, hands wrapped lovingly around it. The camera would pan around and you would see me laughing with all the Barista’s and sharing heart felt moments, like getting an oatmeal raisin cookie with my Chai or better still ordering a Venti. The music would reflect the love of all these scenes.

Then as the video montage came to a close you would see the evil backstabbing Starbucks Empire betraying me. In their fancy upscale boardroom, the Execs putting the final touches on their evil plan to pull the soy out from under me. You would hear that familiar evil laughter as their plan came to fruition (I can just see all the Execs in Seattle with their pinkie fingers in their mouths). The laughter would intensify as the new organic environmentally friendly packaged soymilk that tastes like vanilla syrup hits the stores. It would reverberate around me and as the camera started to spin and fly into the air you would be left with the visual of me, my head in my hands, broken Starbucks cups all around me and my torn cloth sleeve hanging from my finger tips. I would be crying and screaming why! Whhhhhhyyyyyy, as I fall to my knees! All those crazy Starbucks Execs would laugh even more and turn their backs, leaving me on the street standing in the cold, discarded like a pile of used coffee grinds. Whhhhyyyyyy!!!!


Postscript: If any of you know a detox Centre for caffeine and sugar withdrawal, please let me know. I am in for one serious crash!

The Last 15

I was wondering what would I write about if I only had this one opportunity. If, once this is written, I may never write again. What would I put to paper for an eternity. The answer may surprise you all. The answer is, I have no fucking idea! I mean really who the hell would? Of course, you could write some mumbo jumbo life is wonderful crapolla and I have no doubt that lots of other people could come up with some amazing insights to share; I, however have none.

I really just want to get up and walk the dog around the block. Actually that is a lie. What I really want to do is go to Metro and get one of the best damn brownies around. They make them without nuts and drown it in icing. Along with that brownie I want a tub of Ben and Jerry’s brownie ice cream. I love that stuff and the two together, well, that’s worth the heart attack. Pretty much every night I love to indulge into my desire for junk food. I think most of my life has become sex and junk food. What else is there?

Okay, so lets consider that. What else is there to do other than cruise for sex and eat brownies and ice cream? I have 5 people that call me Uncle. Well, I have 9 actually. I am blood Uncle to 5 of them. Oh, I just thought of two more that refer to me as Uncle, so that makes 11. I wonder what they would think if they read this, my final piece of writing and all they got out of it was an amazing recipe for chocolate brownie ice cream goodness. What would they think? I do not know.

I also have two people that call me brother and I would like to think that that number is actually three (maybe 4). I have one living parent and a stepparent that is also alive. I have someone I call Uncle and a person I call Aunt. I should also include the group of people that refer to me as cousin. Off the top of my head that number is 5. I have a dog and roommate, which seems odd to mention in the same sentence. The roommate helped me bring the dog into our lives so perhaps it does make sense. I also have a bunch of friends and co-workers and assorted acquaintances. So what?

So, I am not really sure. I do know that in one way or another all those people have a label for me. I suppose I am thinking that that alone should give me some great insight and inspiration to write something that has depth and meaning, that these relationships would give me the strength and courage to move beyond the chocolate. In the end, I am afraid, that it does not because I find myself sitting here thinking that once I have this is out of the way, once I have hit on that great one liner, I will head off to the store. I will finally be able to get what I truly want, my reward for doing my 15 plus minutes and completing this challenge.

I also wonder why all these people I know, well more so the ones that refer to me as brother, Uncle or cousin work independently of me. Actually, in the interest of truth I think it is just the ones that refer to me as brother. Why are they separate? Why do they not see the place I am in and get in here and help me out of it? How come I am always facing the ticking hollow minutes alone? Why is this room so damn cold? I wonder if they are over there thinking the same thing of the person that refers to them as sister. I cannot save the fucking Universe and I cannot save them either. I am the youngest after all and I should not have too.

I said today that it is so easy to see the other person’s exit. You know what I mean? When you are listening to someone’s problems and you are thinking, Jesus Christ just walk out that fucking door. It is right there in front of your face, just turn the knob and push! But, when it comes to your own problems a raging fire has blocked the door and the fear you feel approaching it ties your stomach into knots and is enough to make you drop where you stand. Your panic stricken body shakes and there is sweat running down your face. You want out so damn bad but there is no way in hell you can reach for your salvation.

In that moment you realize that your exit is clear to the poor soul you are dumping on right now. They can see it right there, so plainly, it drives them nuts that you wont take the opportunity that is right before you. They want to shake you and kick your whining crybaby ass; they want to drag your stupid fucked up self to the top of some building and toss you over. But, they don’t. And they don’t because they know that that would be a crime and they would spend a lot of time in jail, despite the rather justifiable explanation.

When I said that today, about the clear exit, I felt compassion for one of the people that refers to me as brother. I understood the fear that has them trapped inside the life they have chosen. When I look really closely around the life I am trapped in I see them in the shadows. I actually see lots of others in here with me. Oh so many of us stumbling around looking for the exit. I can also see, very clearly, all the exits in front of them, but I cannot, however, see my own.

Todays Fifteen

Todays post is based on an encouonter I had earleir this afternoon. It did not take 15 minutes to write. However, adding in this part and then getting it posted took at least that long. I am hopeful that since the idea is to write everyday I will not lose the challenge based on a few minutes here and there. In actual overall time today, I have spent more than 15 minutes writing. I wrote in my new journal and I wrote this piece. I think it all adds up and counts!

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The Super Hero Beagle

I was walking the dog today. From time to time people comment on my dog and I usually just say thank you and keep on moving. However, every now and again more of my attention is required, unless I want to be an ass and ignore the other person. Example, this afternoon a woman stopped and began talking to me about her dog. She had a beagle and according to the story she told this Beagle was a super hero. Her dog’s super power was smelling!

The woman related a story that went something like this. While living in Ingersoll she took her Beagle to the park. The Beagle was able to smell bones that were buried 10 to 12 feet under ground. This, of course, is remarkable enough but the story gets even better. One day, when she was not looking, her Beagle began to dig. Much to her surprise the dog showed up with bones! I have no idea how she knew the bones were 12 feet deep, I imagine she went over and checked out the hole her dog had dug.

Having discovered the deep pit of bones she did what any good dog owner does. She called the police. I did not find out what the bones were or what the police did about that, it seemed secondary to the rest of the tale. Based on the super smelling senses her dog had the police took the dog in for “smell testing”. Of course, the Beagle passed with flying colours. Which is no surprise after finding bones buried 12 feet deep.

After evaluating the dog’s sense of smell the dog was offered a job as a drug “sniffer”. The woman, however, did not want her dog to be working every day so she turned down the job on the dog’s behalf. In the cold light of hindsight this poor woman told me she regretted her decision. "All dogs should have a job", she said "they like to work". We ruminated on that for a moment and then I said, “well, you loved your dog and that’s really what mattered”. She agreed. We smiled and bid each other a farewell and we went on about our days.

What a great moment in downtown dog walking. Had I not been in a hurry to get to work, I may have asked her what the bones were, animal or human. I would also certainly of asked her how long it took to fill the hole in!

In 15 Minutes a Day

I am posting this unedited...just becasue I want too. Enjoy it.

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I am supposed to write for 15 minutes each day and I find myself putting it off. This is the first attempt at writing for 15 minutes. I actually need to write for one full hour to make up for the fact that I have not written anything in the past 3 days. When this challenge was put before me I accepted it. Of course I work at avoiding the actually doing of it. When I sat down today I was going to continue working on a piece I started last week. It took me some fancy computer work to actually find the document. When I did discover it I re-read it and now I am not really all the inspired to continue with it. That does not surprise me. It is the way I go with writing. I want the outcome, a great article or novel, but I avoid the work involved in creating it.

I have considered writing short stories, articles, harlequins and, of course, the great Canadian novel. To date I have not done any of that. I do have a Blog and I, from time to time, write things for that. I am not consistent and that makes for a boring lean Blog. Regardless, I think a lot of writing. I often have, what I think, are excellent stories in my head. I develop them while I walk my dog or while I am walking to work. I rarely write because I can avoid that. I surf the Internet. I eat, I watch TV I go for a walk or someone calls and saves me from the agony of sitting down and banging away on my computer keyboard.

Sometimes I write crazy e-mails to my friends. I go on and on and find that easy to do. Once I am in the groove I can come up with something that, based on the feedback, is pretty damn good. Many of my friends think I should be writing. But what would I write about? I mean who the hell wants to read this? I try to come up with ideas for articles, but who would want to buy an article from me? I have nothing really to offer in that regard. There are far better writers than I. I also struggle with my inner ambivalence. That feeling that says so clearly, who gives a shit? Why bother what the hell is the point? That can take the wind out of my sail long before my ship is moving. So, I do not act on the idea of writing.

Why do I want to write? I am not sure. I can only say that I have always wanted to be a writer, to make money for putting words onto paper. I want to be creative and allow that inner energy I have to flow out of me. I love creative pursuits, writing, painting or art of some kind and music. I have a piano, well a Yamaha keyboard and a saxophone. I do not touch either of them. They sit and collect dust while I live the fantasy. That is what this writing for 15 minutes a day is born from. The idea that if I do it I can move from living the fantasy to acting on the desire and actually creating something. I suppose if I act on my desires I would move from being ambivalent and often depressed to being alive and happy. Action is a powerful thing.

I was just struck, for some reason, with the thought of the gym. There is another thing that I actively avoid. For a time, albeit a brief time, I went to the gym at least 4 times a week. I held that for 8 months and I felt great. I was getting results and had tons of energy. I feel off the gym wagon when I took a trip to Halifax. I went away and never went back to the gym. I often wonder why. I was so committed to it; I scheduled my life around it. I am told that it takes 21 days to form a new habit. That may be true but apparently it takes only a day to lose it. Well, maybe it takes a trip away to lose it.
Well, there is the first 15-minute segment taken care of. It is now 4:17 and I just did a little sidebar to surf the net. I need to stay focused until 5pm and then I can move onto something else, maybe the saxophone. I often think I want an active full life but I must not truly want that. I spend a great deal of time sitting around thinking about what I would like to be doing. In some cases I am truly stuck, unsure. I would love to go to Africa or a place like that and help. Either help the people or the animals, probably the animals. Work with some organization that helps protect the dying wild life. Or, work with people in some far off part of the world that need help building schools or learning English of something. I do not feel qualified to help.

I was talking the other day about my fantasy list. This is the list of things that I would love to do but never act on. Like writing. Some of the items on my list I avoid out of fear. Some unknown thing that might happen if I pursue it. Like if I take off to Africa, how and what would I eat? I am very particular about my food. It is easy to list the things I like than the many things I do not like. Of course, I could eat it is an excuse or like I said a fear. Fear is irrational and is something that prevents us from moving forward. Having said that I grant you that it can also save our lives. We have the fear response for a reason. I suppose the trick is to figure out when it is deceiving us and when it is not.

It just occurred to me that I am a true Gemini. On the outside I am so easy going, carefree and full of good humour. As I become aware of what I am writing I realize how serious and uptight I am on the inside. I rarely pursuer what matters to me, what I think is important. I paint my self into corners all the time and then do trivial things to meet the basics of life. I have never planned out anything in my life so is it any wonder that I have never realized my plans! Okay, well moving right along lets take a look at that list:

1. Work in a developing country with the people and animals to help them have a better life.
2. Practise and develop my musical ability.
3. Write.
4. Be a life coach.
5. Be creative everyday, paint, draw etc.
6. Travel the world and experience different cultures and meet new people.

There is the list. I doubt that list is complete and it is not in any particular order. I do wonder how I can work on, say number 2, while living number 1. I do not image that I could develop my musical talent while living in some developing country and helping people that are sick or escaping war. It would be great to help children. So many are abused and forgotten, such lofty ideals I have.

Segment 2 complete, 30 minutes to go. I just thought about the conversations I was having with a friend or two about pursing your personal strengths. This is the great idea that we need not focus on our weakness. Our weaknesses are irrelevant. If you are not good at organizing then don’t get a job doing it. And if your Boss is harping on the state of your desk help him to focus on your results. Maybe you sell the most widgets and he is always telling you need to clean up. Tell him it’s not your strength and if he really wants your office all tidy he should first consider your results. If your Boss cannot drop the trivial and focus on your results than take your skills elsewhere. Okay, that is not really a good example of what I am talking about here. The idea is just that you would focus on what you are good at and run with that. Employers always ask what your weaknesses are. The answer really is, well future employer no need to worry about what my weaknesses might be, I am great at selling widgets, that’s what you need and that is what I will do. So, if I am not a great singer or not particularly good at picking decorator colours what difference does it make? I am sure you get the idea.

I love the idea of being results oriented. Author Timothy Ferris takes that to new heights. Results oriented means that I evaluate my performance based on results. It means shifting our focus away from how many hours you spend at the office or doing whatever it is you are doing. The person that puts in the most hours is often the one with the least results. So, if you can sell tons of widgets and still get in a golf game what difference does that make to the employer? Well, it should not make any difference. If you were making me a million bucks a year but you are able to do it in half the time the rest of the group does it, then go play golf. I can hear the objections from all of you caught up in the status quo paradigm but I am getting sore typing about this and I am not going to further discuss the idea. Just get results focused and see what happens.

Wow, it is now 4:41 and I am 4 minutes away from completing segment 3. And 19, not 18 minutes away from completing segment 4. Clearly I do not need any particular idea to bang off some writing. I can just bang off the random thoughts in my head and fill up a few pages. This is like going to the gym or practising. If you just go its done and time has past but you have something to show for it. Then when you head out one night for some fun, you see the results. Or you hit the stage and again you see the results. So what results are you getting life?

I am briefly stumped. I have no idea what to write next. I feel like this topic, as most of my topics are, dry and old. I do not want to go on and on about the same old same old. I am, however, going to post this on my Blog. I will then post the other 15-minute writings that occur this week. The review day for this challenge is Thursday. I am not sure what will come of all this so we will see. I wonder if each entry will just be some not so exciting insight into my inner self-talk. I am working on a story, which, I think I mentioned. Maybe I can wear myself out with me own blah blah blah stuff and then move onto…wait a minute here is a topic, burgers!

There is a new burger joint which is about to open up on Temperance Street. It is called Original Motorcycle. I am not sure what the connection is to burgers but the menu offers steak burgers. Sides include fries, sweet potatoes fries and onion rings. If you get a combo it is $13.95. I gleaned that today by reading the menu through the locked front doors. I hope it opens up soon because I enjoy getting a good burger on Saturday night and then watching COPS while I eat. Fun times.

Another great thing in the area is that a new Starbucks is opening. We need that for sure. There are only 9 that I can think of within a short walk from where I live. A nice balanced 10 is far better. This new location is one block from my place. It is looking like a great location with a fabulous outdoor patio. This summer is going to be a good year for sitting at Starbucks! I hope it is a good year for Starbucks overall. I have some stock and it has dropped from 35 bucks to 9 bucks. I have no intention of selling them, but I would rather the 35 buck share price than the 9 dollar share price. Given time I am sure they will bounce back. I really have no idea if they will bounce back we are talking about 5 dollar coffee and how long can that last?

Which brings me to Tim Horton’s. I wet into the Tim’s at Spadina and Bloor, what a mess. The customers in that place looked like they had fallen into the street rolled around and then dragged themselves in for a coffee. There were one or two exceptions, but the snob in me rushed out hoping never to have to go back there. I might have to scrounge change to buy a bagel but I still shower. That is an entirely new line of fodder and this novel is coming to a close. Maybe next time I will write about my inner snob. He is there and very much alive. I like him because without him I truly would have no standards!

The time is fast approaching 5pm. I can say that I sat here and wrote. I can say that I made up the time for the past 3 days and put in my time today. I can plan to do this tomorrow because I realize that 15 minutes of writing is really not that tiresome at all. It is rather easy. I have written 2341 words. That count does not include the word “words”. According to Stephen King and his book On Writing one great way to get into writing it so write at least 1000 words per day. I have accomplished both of those goals today, 15 minutes and 1000 words. I do think that doing it everyday makes a difference. I am going to work at not accumulating the time and then banging it off in one sitting. Writing everyday is about making it part of what I do so I can develop the skill and maybe sell some work. How great would that be

Thoughts Off Stage

Life, at times, can be full of surprises. Things occur, although sometimes the main stage is empty and life, it seems, happens only in the periphery. That is how it has been for me lately. Life is happening all around me yet not of me. More to the point, events are unfolding and they have an impact on me, but are not about me. I am not even clear how or why these peripheral events impact me. I suppose we all attempt to make everything about ourselves. What does this mean to me? How do I handle this situation? The reality is that everything is about us all. All events impact and direct us in ways we are not always aware of.

Death has been and always is, lurking, in the shadows, just off stage. It waits for no one and does not care what you may be involved in or have planned. You can get caught in its snare with apparent ease and struggling and begging and wishful thinking will bring you no relief. It can stomp out your breath all at once, or, it may drain it from you slowly. Either way you better have lived the life you wanted, done the things you need to do and done them without hesitation, without fear, without believing you will have the time tomorrow. Death is indiscriminate and as I said, waits for no one. But more to the point, it will not wait for you to finish; it will take you mid play. So it’s best to make sure that you are playing and playing full out.

I think I was on a train. A great big powerful train, racing along a winding set of tracks though possibility and it took my breath away. At some point the distance, the future the uncertainty, distracted me. I am not sure of the moment, I’m not sure it matters, but at some point the train jumped the tracks. When it did it caused a huge cataclysmic wreck that sent my train cars in all directions. Now, in the aftermath, I know without seeing, that they are all piled on top of each other, wheels high, broken, crushed and coming to rest, slowly, under a cloud of black acrid smoke. The fires have subsided, the scream of twisting metal is fading and silence is now invading the scene as the camera pans upward. I am somewhere in the wreckage. I am dazed and confused and have, for some reason, no idea what happened or why. I cannot see up or down and I have no idea if I need to crawl out or stay where I am. It appears that I neglected to jump off.

When the alarm clock goes off, a little louder these days, I hear the click and whir before the music fills the air. I roll and lean and hit the button that will silence the process for another 9 minutes. Death has remained off stage and the clutter is all still around me. I cuddle myself under the Egyptian cotton, slowly drifting off, eyes and arms wide. I wake again; I have become aware of my vacant stare and limp body. I believe that I have nothing to get up for. Regardless, eventually, I step back into the sidelines and dabble. I mutter and smile and poke around in this place. I skirt the sunlit openings that appear, at random, in my world, as I am unsure of their origins, their intent. I move things around and I pontificate. I live some of my best moments, upstairs, with the others that pontificate. We cheat through our laughter and shudder in secret as we slip out. We are sad and lonely and stuck in the muck that we created with such ease. If I spin my wheels again the spray will certainly end up on the windows I just cleaned. I turn the car off.

Once again I spread it all out in front of me. I will assess and evaluate and make some careful choices. I will share it around with some of the others. I will listen, defend and, of course, pontificate. The good parts will be taken from me and used, in ways I had considered but not acted upon. It won’t really matter, I’m on an escalator and even if the power goes out I can still get to the top. Or so I believe. As I turn my head to look over my shoulder I am shocked to see the other way. A large group of others moves along singing and holding hands. I catch the eye of one, as his tear falls, and all I am and all I was fills me in that moment, a heartbeat too late. My hand slips, or I simply let go, and in slow motion I fall into the blinding darkness. I dissolve, radiate and disperse. Now I am all and everything and now, I understand.

This one's for Rondi

On the heels of writing about not watching TV, I’ve been watching TV! I have been sitting on the couch, remote in hand, channel surfing. I surf because I am bored. I stopped on Oprah, briefly. Who are these chefs? Celebrity Chefs? What are those? Are these people I am suppose to know? I surf on.

I stop on Ellen. Ellen I know. I think one would have to be living under a rock not to know Ellen. However, she has a steady stream of guests that for some reason are worthy of TV airtime. Who is Zach? Why would I want to listen to what he has to say? Do I care that he has a funny hair do? Why would I? I don’t understand. I watched a little while longer because Ellen is funny. But who is Jonas and what has his brother done that he needs to be on TV? Am I supposed to know? I just don’t get it. I have enough trouble keeping track of my own friends and family. How do you people keep track of all these other people? I continue to watch and I must admit I do know who Clint Eastwood is and I would love to see his new movie Gran Torino. If you want to take me, let me know.

Later on in the evening I decided to have another go at it. I thought I would watch something intelligent, although I think that is an oxymoron, television and intelligent. I do discover a segment on CBC News World about lions in Africa. I stop and take in the mini documentary. I learn about Lion Guards and how one organization is attempting to save the lions. Now that was worthy of my time. Then I am slammed with commercials. Those major length advertisements are never ending. So I surf.

I stop on a show about overweight British women. Well, just two in particular. Some “Do Gooder” is helping these women to see the error of their ways. I am not sure why these women agree to examine their poop on international TV, but then I do not understand why anyone watches TV (with the exception of COPS and America’s Most Wanted – anyone want to start Canada’s Most Wanted with me?). Regardless, there they were, poop in a food container, discussing the output and what it might all mean. I would think after eating 26 slices of bread with jam and butter you would not need someone to point out to you what it means.

Despite my disdain for this misused invention I am not going to disconnect. By morning light I will have forgotten about the mystery Zach and the Jonas brother. I will avoid the TV for most of the day as I have some errands to do. I will, however, turn on the TV and briefly join the millions of you using the TV to avoid whatever it is we should be doing in that moment. Then a commercial will come on and I will forget why I am sitting on the couch and I will get up and leave. I will take The Baron out and feel better for it. I will not return to that comfy spot until Saturday night. Like I said the exception is COPS and AMW, which often makes me think of A&W, which in turn, makes me want a burger. Marketing at its finest!

Milestone Ahead

The end of the year is approaching. I would say fast approaching but time moves at the same speed all the time. Time is like that. The end of the year, or beginning of the New Year is a great place to drop a marker. Draw a line in the sand and set some expectations on what you may want to achieve in the coming months. I intend to do just that.

Of course, the fear, my fear, is that I will continue on as I am. Doing the things I do that lead me to the endless places of oblivion that have become my life. I say that without drama, it is simply the case of my being. I accomplish nothing and have the results to prove it. I talk the talk but I seldom get out and walk the walk.

It truly is a challenge, for me anyway, to change directions. I have come to believe that I need to force the change, as painful as that will be. Shear force of will to start the process and then as the change occurs the momentum will carry me.

So with the knowledge that the days of 2008 are numbered I race to beat the clock. I have a long list of things to move, change and discard by the eve of the 31st. I can see the top of my desk, however, my closets are still full. I’ll let you all know what the 1st holds.

Happy New Year to all and to all a good night.

Mind Numbing TV

I do not understand television people. I am referring to those that watch it; those that make it I get completely. I have not had a TV hooked up in quite a while. A few months back I changed all that and plunged back in. However, for the most part I watch DVD’s.

The other day I decided to sit back and turn on the old tube, I lasted about 5 minutes. I was watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, or so I thought. What I was really watching was advertising with clips of the Willy Wonka movie worked in. It drove me nuts, just as I was getting into the flow of the movie, more commercials. I shut it all off. I know where to go next time I find myself in the mood to watch commercials. How do you all do it?

That question is targeted to those of you that do not have PVR’s. I wonder how the advertisers that pay huge money for commercial spots feel about those things. All you PVR’ers fast forwarding through Tide commercials, how dare you! I predict a change for TV viewing in the coming years. Once we are all “digital” we will pay not for channels but for shows. If you like Two and Half Men then you will pay for that show. No commercials, just the show. How nice. A pay as you go sort of thing, turn on the tube, buy the show(s) you want to watch and off you go. No annoying commercials. I look forward to that day and when it comes I will hook back in. I must admit, however, that I will miss the Ikea commercials.

I need something new

I need to come up with a topic for this post. I have not put anything on this Blog for so long, it is getting crunchy. New, something new. Oh, I went to Metro about 2 hours ago after walking my dog and a friend's dog. I wanted some junk food; it is night time after all and I need my fix. I spotted new (well new to me) Ah Caramel cakes with a new flavour twist; Triple Chocolate! A new flavour of the Ah Caramel Cakes that I love so much. I was torn people. What was I to do? I wanted to try the new triple chocolate cakes, how could I resist? But the tried and true Ah Caramel, I new they would not disappoint. In a flash it came to me. Buy both. I did. I now have 24 Ah Caramel cakes in two flavours. If you want one, act fast, they are going quickly, only 16 left.

I do not think anything else is new. I do need a few new things. I need a new monitor for my PC. I need new jeans. I need a new approach. I also need to call the police about the drug dealers on the street. That, however, is not new.

Oh wait, this post is new!

Creating Belief

Last night, while walking around Chinatown feeding feral cats, a friend of mine, tolerated my blindness and helped me see. We got talking about 9/11 and a comment I had made in an e-mail I had sent to her. I stated that I did not believe an airplane had flown into the Pentagon (I have to mention her comment as I am smiling at the memory…she said she did not respond to my e-mail because she did not know what to do with it…). Rondi, my friend, is someone that knows more about politics than I, and more about world happenings than I, so I usually ask questions and listen.

I listened again last night. What I discovered, aside from the evidence of the plane flying into the Pentagon, was something a little more interesting to me. I discovered that I wanted to believe that there was a conspiracy. I think I have come to find comfort in believing that the US government, and ours to a lesser degree, conspire on most things. If you look you can see evidence everywhere. All those documentaries cannot be wrong, right?

The reality is that they can be and some of them are way off base. Truth is something that is flexible and in order to determine what is and what isn’t, one needs to take the time to check the source. I noticed that I believe what I want to believe. Interesting, I thought I believed what made sense and was actually true. Which on some level I was, taking in the information, sorting out what made sense and then taking that to be true. My truth. However, what happened to checking it out?

I think, with the 9/11 incident I chose to take hold of the conspiracy theories because in some strange way it gave me some comfort. It was easier to accept that it was an “inside job” than believe that there is a real threat to my safety from some unknown unseen enemy. Interesting.

I read a long article printed in Popular Mechanics. It was very interesting and “debunked” most of the conspiracy claims. One by one, knocking them down with concrete facts about what happened on that day. So, now, I am over it.

I still believe, however, that Monsanto, the corporation that holds a GMO soybean patent is out of control. As were and still are to some extent, the tobacco companies. However, I think that conspiracies are not done on such grand scales and often what appears to be a conspiracy is simply bad judgement. Corporations, being money focused, tend to lose sight of what is good, It remains our responsibility to stay informed and when required, kick those companies back into line.

I guess the trick is to stay in the world of possibilities. Imagine what it would take to conspire and execute a 9/11 event. There would be so many people involved that it would fail before it got started. We may debate how it was handled; did Bush do a good job? Was the US response appropriate? How do we prevent such acts of terror in the future? But to distract ourselves with wild speculation and theories that simply do not fly do us all a disservice.

It is great to be able to look inside and see what had me believing. It was great to re-evaluate and be aware of the process I have been using to make decisions and create my beliefs. I feel humbled and with a new awareness. Believing does not make it true.

Thanks Rondi.

Bailout

The ones that made, the obviously bad choice, to loan money to people that cannot repay it are going to be bailed out. The US taxpayers are being set up to buy the bad assets from the financial institutions. Does this mean that they can stay in, or have their house back? No, of course not. However, the banker will have his pocket money given back to him. How nice to belong to that little club at the top. I had to smile at the part, in the video, that states they will ask for legislation to raise the ceiling for the debt. Why create a ceiling to begin with if you are just going to raise it? Right, my mistake, when something is no longer convenient you change it.

This comment, posted on the Star’s site, suggests an alternative to the bailout.

the effect of the bail out is the taxpayer assumes the "toxic debt" created by Wall Street. Why not directly write down this debt, giving relief to the victims of these crimes, allowing them to remain in their homes, and a vital part of the economy. Harvard calculates this would cost only $150 to $200 billion, and the net result would be more favorable to everyone and the economy as a whole, except those who created this mess. It would in effect bail them out, but not reward them. Everyone wins, sort of. But alas, this makes too much sense, and the lobbyists would not be happy with anything less than Wall Street profiteering further from their own fraud.

I attempted to source this via Harvard’s website but I had no luck. I do not doubt that there is a better alternative then the bailout suggested by the Bush administration. Why is it we always accept that the rich save the rich? Are we just to damn busy trying to find jobs, and another place to live, that we let the royalty up top get away with it time and time again?

I may not have much of an understanding of the economy, however, I do understand debt. The time comes when you are asked to pay. At 11.3 trillion I hope when that time comes, someone had the foresight to put a little bit aside.

Musical Memories

I have been spending the evening watching music videos and writing. I have had different thoughts while working this process. One is I want to get out of here. Another is that only a music star can get arrested in a washroom for having sex and turn into a pretty damn good song (although I am not sure Mr. Michaels was actually having sex, however, I am sure it was his intent and what the hell you only live once).

I have Michael Jackson on at the moment. I am limited to Sony artists as I am on the Sony BMG site. It is pretty good, and easy way to watch videos. Not to say that I am not watching Michael Jackson videos because I am limited. I enjoy him. I have watched Thriller, Smooth Criminal, Beat it, and Billie Jean. I had a memory flash back, while watching Beat It, of my sister Chana commenting that Michael had “all the moves”. Maybe it was not in reference to MJ but I do recall such a comment. I also recall thinking; I have all the moves, what the hell is she talking about?

But I realize that I am like that dancer on Birdcage. The one that Robin Williams’s character is talking to during the rehearsal. I am fosse fosse fosse Madonna Madonna Madonna, but I am keeping it all inside. And I do, keep it all inside. However, not for very much longer, I’ve got to get control… I am applying for a bursary to the RCM. I am going to take, learn and play music.

Check out the site. See where it takes you. I leave you while listening to NSYNC.

Magenta Mauve Maroon Crows

I watched Maroon 5 last night at the Molson Amphitheatre and was enthralled. They are like a group of kids playing in their basement. The funny thing is when I checked out their site today I learned that they did just that. Of course they did. Playing guitar and experimenting with their sound. Developing into the great players they are today. The 3 of them on stage playing mean guitar it truly was a flashback experience. It felt like the 70’s and I could imagine these guys playing in their parent’s basement on some old orangie brown shag carpet.

The drummer of this group is also an amazing player. Tons of non-stop energy; I wonder if he collapses after the show. My view of the keyboard player was a bit obscured despite the 3rd row centre seats. It could have been because I was so close to the stage that I could not see him way up there. The band is a very well oiled machine with great songs and a great stage presence. I had a great time and as I write this I have Maroon 5 on my stereo, rather loud.

The concert was a double bill that opened with Sara Beralis. I did not catch much of her act but what I did hear was great. Adam from The Counting Crows came on stage and introduced her claming she would be touring on her own very soon. I share his belief; she will be there no doubt.

The reason I missed her (Sara) was we were backstage with the guitar player from The Crows. My friend Rondi is connected and invited me to the show. We went backstage and had a beer and a chat. About 10 minutes before the Crows hit the stage we came out and took our seats.

The Crows are also an amazing band. I enjoyed their set and I now need to hit the HMV or some of the second hand CD stores. I need to get the Crows into my collection.

Whoever came up with the idea of these 3 acts on one stage in one night knows what they are doing. The build up was perfect. Each act generated more energy for the next; they compliment each other perfectly. What a great night of music. I left a bit deaf and no doubt I have lost a portion of my hearing, but what a way to go!

Thank you Rondi for inviting me, I had a great time. Next time the latte’s are on me!

I saw a pig

Yesterday, while walking home from work, I spotted a pig. This pig was in the scoop of a bobcat. As I watched, in a haze of disbelief, I realized I was seeing live what I had heard about from sources like Fast Food Nation and some of my friends. I watched and realized I cannot eat another pig.

As I stood there watching, with my dog, I noticed that there was at least 2 pigs in the scoop. I wondered how they got in there; it would be painful to just be scooped up by one of those machines. I cannot say for sure, however, I thought at least one of the pigs was alive. If it was I am sure it was terrified and in a great deal of pain. It was unnatural the way it was being bounced around. I reasoned that it was actually dead. Which lead me to wonder how it died. Was it on the truck on route to this slaughterhouse? I have learned, what should have been obvious after seeing a few truck loads of pigs, that the trucks are exposed to the elements. No heat in the winter, no cooling in the summer, no food no water....no wonder.

I think it is awful how we treat animals. On the surface I have no problem being a meat eater. I enjoy burgers, chicken and steaks. What makes me sick is seeing how we treat these animals before we kill them. We may be able to explain it away with economic reasons but truly there is no justification for the horrors we subject them too. I am left, as we all are, with a choice. Take the blue pill and all is ok, we return to the numb unknowing state we like to live in. Or take the red pill, take a stand and do something about it.

I hope you all take the red pill. If you need a little more to encourage you I defy you to watch this video and then tell me it’s all ok. Hell, they are just animals. Oh wait, so are we.

If you must eat meat, eat cruelty free meat. Free range grain fed chickens for example.

Fire and Space

I walked on fire, literally; burning hot coals at 2400 degrees. I walked and I focused and I made it across and it transformed a part of me. I was discussing the experience today and I realized that most of life is the figurative of that literal experience. To transform (which is different than change) one must walk the coals and the coals lie in the space between:

The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain…

This is the one side. The side I have been on for many years. It is the side of the space where we, I, cry and laugh and remain to “keep safe from the pain”. What I have learned is that when we step out onto the coals, with help from a soul that knows, we may leave some of what we are behind but we gain.


The Space Between
Where you're smiling high
Is where you'll find me if I get to go
The Space Between
The bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you
The rain that falls
Splash in your heart
Ran like sadness down the window into...
The Space Between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain…


Then there is that other side. And if we are hiding are waiting it is not truly in the space but on the far side. The truth about the space is that we can transverse it with focus commitment dedication and with someone who is willing to scream the truth into our face. Scream it and whisper as we scream and whisper to ourselves. The firefight, the falling rain the wicked lies are all things we do to ourselves in our failed attempts to protect ourselves from the pain.

When I crossed the coals I burned the arch of my right foot. I saw in my mind a flash of bright white light as the coal seared into my flesh. I kept on going. I moved forward and when I stepped into the cool grass on the other side I was awakened. I now know that I can step into that space again and again. I can even be burned and still move forward and reach the other side. Because of that literal experience I now look forward to more spaces.


I am truly grateful to my beautiful friend Barb for whispering into my ear.

The lyrics…Dave Matthews Band…Under the Table and Dreaming

Help I have done it again

I watched the final 9 minutes of the final episode of Six Feet Under on Youtube. I looked it up as I wanted to hear that haunting song again. Breathe Me by Sia. What an incredible show with an incredible ending. It slides into me and draws out so many feelings; loss, anxiety, hope and fear. It makes me still, and, really I find myself sad about life more so than happy. Perhaps it is my age.

“Help I have done it again, I have been here many times before". How I relate to that so clearly. How many times must I do this to myself? Lose track, repeat the same pattern, and make the same mistake. How many times before I will get it and choose a different path. Maybe there is no other path to choose.

“Ouch, I have lost myself again”, yes I do that as well. The upside here is that to know this one must discover oneself again. It is time to get caught up in the grandeur of that discovery instead of getting bogged down in the loss. The loss is, after all, in the past.

Then there is the xylophone, or at least what I believe to be a xylophone. On so many levels those notes speak to me. It plays in my bones and I hear it say “get to it Roy, time is running away from you. Now is the all that is and it’s fleeting.

The images that pass along the way as well, as Sia sings that soulful tune. Their lives play out and I have that sense of passing. Have I done the things I wanted? Will I have a chance tomorrow to say hello or goodbye? Will I have the love I long for?

I stop hearing the words of that song; I get lost in all the other experiences of it. I ride up and down and in the end I am just with the notes. The ending. The fading to white as the crescendo dies and I am left alone, longing. I wonder if I will ever have another face to touch. I wonder if I will ever look into his eyes and know the meaning of everything and nothing.