Springtime in the beautiful city of Montreal. The blossoms are blooming, the grass is growing and the Habs are in the second round. Huh? What? Well, if it is all just a dream, I’m hittin’ snooze to get another ten minutes sleep. Here to lull you into a state of semi-conciousness is yet another Friday Time Waster.
I’m sure many of you were cursing the foulest curse as heavy wet snow descended on the city this past Tuesday. Our family suffered a major casualty as our summer gazebo collapsed under the weight of snow. It could be worse though, you could be in southern Alberta where they just got walloped by close to 25 CM of the heavy white stuff. With this sudden and unexpected deep freeze you’d think it was the Leafs that beat the Capitols.
* * *
British Prime Minister Gordon Brown spent most of this week picking fragments of his shoe from his teeth. A news microphone, that he had agreed to wear, picked up a less than complimentary comment about a woman who confronted him in the streets. The comments were made from the presumed privacy of his limousine, where he referred to the woman as a bigot. He should take a page from the George Bush guide to getting elected, if you’re going to say something stupid at least do it in public.
* * *
Speaking of the British election, Gordon Brown is getting a boost courtesy of a public endorsement from former Prime Minister Tony Blair. The same guy that endorsed the invasion of Iraq. Gee thanks pal.
* * *
Forget Sea World, here comes Celine World. Uber-adult-contemporary-diva-extraordinaire Celine Dion and fam are getting ready to move into their new $5.6 million home on her Jupiter Island property in Florida. Evidently she has installed a water-park like pool, complete with slides and a so-called lazy river. Did I mention it’s also a beach-front property?
I just hope she put up a strong enough fence to keep her neighbour, Tiger Woods, from driving into the pool.
* * *
There are just not enough superlatives to describe what Jaro Halak and the Habs did this past week. One thing about being a Canadiens fan is that every once in a while they do something amazing. While the 100 year celebrations and the passing of the torch thing is nice, I think I prefer when the team makes history rather than revisit it.
Hard to believe I’m still saying it, but Go Habs, Go
Have a great weekend.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Parent Under Construction
One of the hardest things about being a parent is living with those moments when you realize that you completely and utterly mishandled a situation. It happened to me last night, twice in fact, in the space of about five minutes. My six year-old son was throwing a defiant and loud tantrum, and I shouted at him at the top of my lungs. The aforementioned tantrum occurred during the dying minutes of the Canadiens-Capitols game seven match up. While I was stressed-out as a hockey fan, there was no excuse for my outburst.
The rule of thumb for parents when their child is throwing a five alarm hissy fit, is to back off and respond in a calm and measured tone, or depending on the situation, ignore them completely. Trying to outmatch the intensity of the child's tantrum only leads to a further escalation.
Unfortunately, for both of us, my capacity for rational reasoning had gone out the window with less than three minutes to play in the hockey game. The Habs won, but I blew it.
When it comes to parenthood, there are no do-overs, but there can be a whole truckload of guilt and regret.
If there is any consolation for having your shortcomings exposed to your children it is that we invariably learn something about ourselves. As I've said before, kids will push your buttons like nothing else. It's almost as if they are born with the skill and have an inexplicable need to exercise it. I've often asked my sons why they had done something they clearly knew was wrong only to send us parents into fits. The response was always "I don't know."
That's partly true. Kids regularly do things, good or bad, to get attention or affection. They are competing for our time and do so with unrelenting passion. I don't think however, that they take a lot of time to consider why they do it, they just do.
Understanding these complexities is not for children, it is for adults. Unfortunately we don't always analyse these situations with that kind of clarity, particularly when we are caught up in something to which a child does not, and cannot, relate.
As parents it can be difficult to navigate the adult world and also be sensitive and responsive to our child's needs. You'd think it would be simple and natural, but sometimes we get lost between the two worlds.
What I am discovering is that the stumbles I've made as a parent are teaching me more about myself than I thought I knew. I've become more aware my faults and attempt to address them as best I can. There are some things that I know I cannot fix, but I can at least I can make them better.
There is no perfect formula for the relationship between a child and a parent, but there are time-tested qualities we can apply: patience, understanding, open-mindedness, empathy and forgiveness. In fact, these qualities ought to be an integral part of every relationship.
The most important lesson I've learned is that despite my mistakes, and the ones that are to come, somehow my relationships have grown stronger. In many ways it is when we stumble that we are forced to see our true selves and yet continue find acceptance from those around us.
When it comes to those time-tested qualities, children seem most in tune with forgiveness. Which is good news for a guilty dad who wished he could've shown some patience and empathy.
Hopefully I'll be better prepared for the next game seven.
The rule of thumb for parents when their child is throwing a five alarm hissy fit, is to back off and respond in a calm and measured tone, or depending on the situation, ignore them completely. Trying to outmatch the intensity of the child's tantrum only leads to a further escalation.
Unfortunately, for both of us, my capacity for rational reasoning had gone out the window with less than three minutes to play in the hockey game. The Habs won, but I blew it.
When it comes to parenthood, there are no do-overs, but there can be a whole truckload of guilt and regret.
If there is any consolation for having your shortcomings exposed to your children it is that we invariably learn something about ourselves. As I've said before, kids will push your buttons like nothing else. It's almost as if they are born with the skill and have an inexplicable need to exercise it. I've often asked my sons why they had done something they clearly knew was wrong only to send us parents into fits. The response was always "I don't know."
That's partly true. Kids regularly do things, good or bad, to get attention or affection. They are competing for our time and do so with unrelenting passion. I don't think however, that they take a lot of time to consider why they do it, they just do.
Understanding these complexities is not for children, it is for adults. Unfortunately we don't always analyse these situations with that kind of clarity, particularly when we are caught up in something to which a child does not, and cannot, relate.
As parents it can be difficult to navigate the adult world and also be sensitive and responsive to our child's needs. You'd think it would be simple and natural, but sometimes we get lost between the two worlds.
What I am discovering is that the stumbles I've made as a parent are teaching me more about myself than I thought I knew. I've become more aware my faults and attempt to address them as best I can. There are some things that I know I cannot fix, but I can at least I can make them better.
There is no perfect formula for the relationship between a child and a parent, but there are time-tested qualities we can apply: patience, understanding, open-mindedness, empathy and forgiveness. In fact, these qualities ought to be an integral part of every relationship.
The most important lesson I've learned is that despite my mistakes, and the ones that are to come, somehow my relationships have grown stronger. In many ways it is when we stumble that we are forced to see our true selves and yet continue find acceptance from those around us.
When it comes to those time-tested qualities, children seem most in tune with forgiveness. Which is good news for a guilty dad who wished he could've shown some patience and empathy.
Hopefully I'll be better prepared for the next game seven.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Fiddling While Montreal Crumbles
Surprise, surprise, Transport Quebec found yet another dangerously decaying section of highway in the province. To every driver's delight it happens to be on a major route connecting the Decarie Expressway to the Champlain Bridge. For those of you who don't know Montreal, suffice it to say that this particular stretch of road sees about 31, 000 vehicles a day. Engineering firms monitoring the state of the city's highway infrastructure referred to the problem as a "degradation in the concrete". They can use all the technical terms they want, when your sailing along at a hundred feet off the ground "degradation of concrete" is not what you want to hear.
This sort of revelation is not new for our fair city, highways and overpasses have been falling apart, and some even falling down, for some time now. What is driving most motorists crazy is the political ping pong game that is keeping the province from fixing the problems.
Of course, it needs to be said that successive governments in this province have ignored this problem for decades. As if the massive cracks in the Turcot interchange and other roadways would just magically vanish. As it turns out, there is no infrastructure fairy, just a lot of rain, snow, road salt, heavy traffic and a sackful of neglect. Since the vast majority of citizens are not concrete engineers, the responsibility of monitoring this situation fell squarely on the shoulders of our elected officials. Typically, it wasn't until someone was crushed to death by a collapsing overpass that the folks in Quebec City awoke from their stupor and decided to do something. Only then did we learn the truth about what many had already suspected, that our road system was in dangerously poor condition.
The government has addressed some of these issues, a few with stop-gap measures and others with major overhauls. Like many drivers, I am relieved at these moves, but am still sceptical. With this recent revelation, one wonders why it was not discovered sooner, considering it is a major artery on a section of highway that has already been identified as requiring a major overhaul.
So much so, that the provincial government announced last year that the Turcot interchange was beyond long-term repair and would have to be scrapped in favour of a new structure. The province had put forward a $2.6 billion plan to raze then rebuild the interchange. Enter Montreal Mayor Gerald Tremblay. The Mayor counter-proposed with a plan that would cost $6 billion dollars, would reduce traffic flow and supposedly boost public transit.
The fact that we are even having this discussion is absurd to me. While I am in favour of increased use of public transit, to expect thousands of vehicles that use the interchange every day to suddenly vanish overnight is completely naïve. The real issue at the heart of this debate are the homes that will be annexed and demolished in order to accommodate the province's plan. While Tremblay's counter proposal would allow property owners to keep their homes, it fails to address the real-world issue of traffic flow on a vital metropolitan artery. His proposal is political, designed to play up to voters by painting the provincial government as uncaring towards its citizens and environmentally insensitive. It is also completely unrealistic, and seemingly conceived to be rejected.
This is politics at its worst. Rather than addressing actual issues, politicians gamble with the needs demands of citizens to advance their own personal agendas. The net result, a solution with which nobody is satisfied.
Meanwhile, drivers and passengers around this city continue to keep their eyes open and pray they are not the next victim of an errant chunk of a crumbling city.
Maybe it would speed things up if this debate was held under the Turcot interchange.
Ah, forget those guys, it's freakin' Game Seven. Go Habs, Go.
This sort of revelation is not new for our fair city, highways and overpasses have been falling apart, and some even falling down, for some time now. What is driving most motorists crazy is the political ping pong game that is keeping the province from fixing the problems.
Of course, it needs to be said that successive governments in this province have ignored this problem for decades. As if the massive cracks in the Turcot interchange and other roadways would just magically vanish. As it turns out, there is no infrastructure fairy, just a lot of rain, snow, road salt, heavy traffic and a sackful of neglect. Since the vast majority of citizens are not concrete engineers, the responsibility of monitoring this situation fell squarely on the shoulders of our elected officials. Typically, it wasn't until someone was crushed to death by a collapsing overpass that the folks in Quebec City awoke from their stupor and decided to do something. Only then did we learn the truth about what many had already suspected, that our road system was in dangerously poor condition.
The government has addressed some of these issues, a few with stop-gap measures and others with major overhauls. Like many drivers, I am relieved at these moves, but am still sceptical. With this recent revelation, one wonders why it was not discovered sooner, considering it is a major artery on a section of highway that has already been identified as requiring a major overhaul.
So much so, that the provincial government announced last year that the Turcot interchange was beyond long-term repair and would have to be scrapped in favour of a new structure. The province had put forward a $2.6 billion plan to raze then rebuild the interchange. Enter Montreal Mayor Gerald Tremblay. The Mayor counter-proposed with a plan that would cost $6 billion dollars, would reduce traffic flow and supposedly boost public transit.
The fact that we are even having this discussion is absurd to me. While I am in favour of increased use of public transit, to expect thousands of vehicles that use the interchange every day to suddenly vanish overnight is completely naïve. The real issue at the heart of this debate are the homes that will be annexed and demolished in order to accommodate the province's plan. While Tremblay's counter proposal would allow property owners to keep their homes, it fails to address the real-world issue of traffic flow on a vital metropolitan artery. His proposal is political, designed to play up to voters by painting the provincial government as uncaring towards its citizens and environmentally insensitive. It is also completely unrealistic, and seemingly conceived to be rejected.
This is politics at its worst. Rather than addressing actual issues, politicians gamble with the needs demands of citizens to advance their own personal agendas. The net result, a solution with which nobody is satisfied.
Meanwhile, drivers and passengers around this city continue to keep their eyes open and pray they are not the next victim of an errant chunk of a crumbling city.
Maybe it would speed things up if this debate was held under the Turcot interchange.
Ah, forget those guys, it's freakin' Game Seven. Go Habs, Go.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Open Door
What does it take to get to the next level? We hear it all the time when sports analysts discuss the need for players to elevate their game. Last night, when Jaroslav Halak stood on his head and spun in circles keeping pucks out of his net, even the most jaded of sports fans had to be impressed. While we can all marvel at the performance of the clearly gifted Habs net minder, last night was probably not a repeatable feat. Despite his super-human efforts, and a few fortunate bounces, we know that he is human, and that performing at that level game after game is a tall order. Or is it?
I would not describe myself as an athlete, but over the years I have competed in some sporting events, notably 5k runs, golf tournaments and soccer playoffs. Whenever I’ve been in a situation when my team or myself was in contention I found myself wondering what was needed to find that extra gear. Often, simply asking the question seemed to make the challenge even greater.
It’s what goes on in that space between our ears that frequently determines what our bodies are capable of doing. It explains why sports psychologists have become such an important part of the training regimen of elite athletes.
There have been times when, seemingly without explanation, I have been able to perform at a level that I previously thought impossible. As a golfer who regularly shoots in the mid to high 90s, I once played a round where inexplicably I shot an 80. When I was a runner in my prime, the maximum distance I could cover with training was 15 kilometres, and yet one evening, for no particular reason, I ran 22 almost effortlessly.
We often experience the same thing outside the realm of sports. Some days our ability to process information and perform our jobs is surprisingly elevated, while other days we can’t remember the password to our computer. What I have found most curious is that when those breakthrough moments come it feels as simple as stepping through a door, as if it was there the entire time.
There are a couple of things I have heard over the years that have proven to be true. One is the realization that when the mojo is going, you don’t question it. The other has to do with preparedness. We often hear the expression that you have to make you own luck. Some might consider this an expression of arrogance, but actually it is far from it.
At some point we have to recognize that not all the bounces are going to go our way. Call it luck, fate, or just coincidence. It is impossible to know how any given set of circumstances will play out. We also have to admit to ourselves that our potential for fallibility is ever present. We screw up, even with things we do with such regularity that we could perform them in our sleep.
It is impossible to counteract these situations; therefore we must have the humility to admit that they are beyond our control. What we can control is our ability to respond when the bounces do go our way, and that comes from being prepared. In sport, preparedness is a direct result of intensive practice, in life it comes from something deeper.
There are a myriad of curves balls that will be thrown at us in our lifetimes. It’s impossible to think we can be prepared for all of them, but we can equip ourselves to respond. It begins with discovering ones own inner strength and courage. This often means taking ownership of failures as much as successes. It is about giving up control as much as our ongoing obsession with gaining control. It is about recognizing what is the right thing to do even when it is neither popular nor easy. It is about developing character that is both confident and secure as well as open-minded and compassionate.
We do this through recognizing the real gifts in our lives. The people who stand by us in difficult circumstances. The moments of celebration, companionship and reconciliation. The value of integrity over avarice.
There is an element of spirituality to this equation as in many ways it involves achieving balance through casting off those trivial things that we consider important in our lives. To give ourselves over to circumstance, or more accurately, get out of our own way, to allow our true selves to shine.
Often our personal ‘next level’ is right there in front of us. The only barrier is letting go and stepping through the door.
Go Habs, Go.
I would not describe myself as an athlete, but over the years I have competed in some sporting events, notably 5k runs, golf tournaments and soccer playoffs. Whenever I’ve been in a situation when my team or myself was in contention I found myself wondering what was needed to find that extra gear. Often, simply asking the question seemed to make the challenge even greater.
It’s what goes on in that space between our ears that frequently determines what our bodies are capable of doing. It explains why sports psychologists have become such an important part of the training regimen of elite athletes.
There have been times when, seemingly without explanation, I have been able to perform at a level that I previously thought impossible. As a golfer who regularly shoots in the mid to high 90s, I once played a round where inexplicably I shot an 80. When I was a runner in my prime, the maximum distance I could cover with training was 15 kilometres, and yet one evening, for no particular reason, I ran 22 almost effortlessly.
We often experience the same thing outside the realm of sports. Some days our ability to process information and perform our jobs is surprisingly elevated, while other days we can’t remember the password to our computer. What I have found most curious is that when those breakthrough moments come it feels as simple as stepping through a door, as if it was there the entire time.
There are a couple of things I have heard over the years that have proven to be true. One is the realization that when the mojo is going, you don’t question it. The other has to do with preparedness. We often hear the expression that you have to make you own luck. Some might consider this an expression of arrogance, but actually it is far from it.
At some point we have to recognize that not all the bounces are going to go our way. Call it luck, fate, or just coincidence. It is impossible to know how any given set of circumstances will play out. We also have to admit to ourselves that our potential for fallibility is ever present. We screw up, even with things we do with such regularity that we could perform them in our sleep.
It is impossible to counteract these situations; therefore we must have the humility to admit that they are beyond our control. What we can control is our ability to respond when the bounces do go our way, and that comes from being prepared. In sport, preparedness is a direct result of intensive practice, in life it comes from something deeper.
There are a myriad of curves balls that will be thrown at us in our lifetimes. It’s impossible to think we can be prepared for all of them, but we can equip ourselves to respond. It begins with discovering ones own inner strength and courage. This often means taking ownership of failures as much as successes. It is about giving up control as much as our ongoing obsession with gaining control. It is about recognizing what is the right thing to do even when it is neither popular nor easy. It is about developing character that is both confident and secure as well as open-minded and compassionate.
We do this through recognizing the real gifts in our lives. The people who stand by us in difficult circumstances. The moments of celebration, companionship and reconciliation. The value of integrity over avarice.
There is an element of spirituality to this equation as in many ways it involves achieving balance through casting off those trivial things that we consider important in our lives. To give ourselves over to circumstance, or more accurately, get out of our own way, to allow our true selves to shine.
Often our personal ‘next level’ is right there in front of us. The only barrier is letting go and stepping through the door.
Go Habs, Go.
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Friday Time Waster Supreme: The Quest For Peace
Congratulations, you survived the week. Your prize: reading this crappy blog. On the bright side, you could have spent the week sleeping on a baggage cart at Heathrow. So cheer up and enjoy this week’s edition of the Friday Time Waster.
There is a movement afoot to fill the soon to be vacant Governor General’s position with William Shatner. I daresay there are more than a few large vacancies that Bill the Shat could fill. Still, replacing Michaelle Jean with Bill Shatner is as crazy as replacing Barack Obama with a kook like Sarah Palin. Oh wait, that could actually happen.
* * *
General Motors recently announced that they have repaid the U.S. and Canadian governments $6.7 billion (US) in loans, five years ahead of schedule. It’s good news for the automaker, sort of. They still owe Washington another $43 billion, and the Feds also own 60% of the company. It must suck for GM to have to sell every car they have, which they didn’t actually own in the first place, and still have to make payments. Welcome to the rest of the world.
* * *
Memo to Rahim Jaffer: before facing a Parliamentary inquiry to boldly refute accusations of illegal lobbying activities and potential fraud, ya might want to drop by Staples and pick up a paper shredder.
* * *
Avatar producer and blazillionaire James Cameron is pushing to establish an industry-based committee to monitor 3-D movie productions to prevent what he referred to as “stupid stuff” like the current remake Clash of the Titans. Really? While we’re at it, can we have a committee to prevent dumb-ass dialogue and childish story lines like the ones in Avatar?
* * *
What do man-fragrance maker AXE and the World Wildlife Fund have in common? To mark Earth Day, the company and the environmental group teamed up to encourage people to shower together. Sharing a shower with your partner is evidently a great way to conserve water. It may also have a positive effect on vehicle fuel emissions. Think about it. You'd never get stuck in morning traffic because you would always be late for work.
* * *
Note to Habs fans: there is no shame in accepting that the Washington Capitols are simply a better team. Nor is there any shame in sending NHL officials a copy of the league rules and coupons for a free eye exam.
Ah well, Go Habs, Go
Enjoy your weekend.
There is a movement afoot to fill the soon to be vacant Governor General’s position with William Shatner. I daresay there are more than a few large vacancies that Bill the Shat could fill. Still, replacing Michaelle Jean with Bill Shatner is as crazy as replacing Barack Obama with a kook like Sarah Palin. Oh wait, that could actually happen.
* * *
General Motors recently announced that they have repaid the U.S. and Canadian governments $6.7 billion (US) in loans, five years ahead of schedule. It’s good news for the automaker, sort of. They still owe Washington another $43 billion, and the Feds also own 60% of the company. It must suck for GM to have to sell every car they have, which they didn’t actually own in the first place, and still have to make payments. Welcome to the rest of the world.
* * *
Memo to Rahim Jaffer: before facing a Parliamentary inquiry to boldly refute accusations of illegal lobbying activities and potential fraud, ya might want to drop by Staples and pick up a paper shredder.
* * *
Avatar producer and blazillionaire James Cameron is pushing to establish an industry-based committee to monitor 3-D movie productions to prevent what he referred to as “stupid stuff” like the current remake Clash of the Titans. Really? While we’re at it, can we have a committee to prevent dumb-ass dialogue and childish story lines like the ones in Avatar?
* * *
What do man-fragrance maker AXE and the World Wildlife Fund have in common? To mark Earth Day, the company and the environmental group teamed up to encourage people to shower together. Sharing a shower with your partner is evidently a great way to conserve water. It may also have a positive effect on vehicle fuel emissions. Think about it. You'd never get stuck in morning traffic because you would always be late for work.
* * *
Note to Habs fans: there is no shame in accepting that the Washington Capitols are simply a better team. Nor is there any shame in sending NHL officials a copy of the league rules and coupons for a free eye exam.
Ah well, Go Habs, Go
Enjoy your weekend.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Earth. Way Nicer Than the Moon.
If you ever asked a parent or grand-parent the question “How come there’s a Mother’s day and a Father’s day, but there’s no kid’s day?”, the standard answer was always, “Every day is kid's day.”
The same answer could easily apply to Earth day as well. Today is the day that all the humans on Earth suddenly recognize that they live on …Earth. Yeah, it’s weird considering the fact that everything we need to exist is right here on this planet. We’ve been to the moon, and it turns out you have to bring your own air, water and food with you. It's also really cold and one hell of a commute.
When I was growing up in the west-island burbs, I was something of an environmentalist. Well, actually I didn’t know there was a name for it; I just had a thing for nature. In those days there were more green spaces that, as it turns out, were really just undeveloped land. It wasn’t uncommon to find ponds and brooks filled with tadpoles in the springtime. There were forests where one could lose themselves, and fields of grass where one could explore. When developers showed up to plow over trees in favour of new houses, it bothered me. Of course it never occurred to me that the same thing must have happened before they built my own home.
The thing that really angered me was that even though we lived on an island, surrounded by rivers and lakes, you couldn't swim in them because they were hopelessly polluted. So many years later things have changed a bit, but not by much.
I don’t like the label environmentalist, largely because it isn’t really something you choose to be. We are by nature, inexorably connected to this planet. It provides all of the essential things we need to survive and thrive. To want to preserve those is as natural as taking a breath.
It is often in our obsession with survival that we do ourselves the biggest disservice. Recently I got into a spat with a friend living in Alberta. I’d made some comments about the oil sands projects in the province’s north, in particular coming down on the side of a group of Greenpeace activists. They had hopped a fence at one of the fields and proceeded to occupy a building. Apparently the folks in Alberta are a touch sensitive about anything that besmirches the reputation of the oil sands projects.
Among the scathing rebukes I received was the suggestion that I should be thankful for the blessing that the oil sands had given Canada and the world. Without which we would all be unemployed, living in dark caves and eating canned beans.
The economic pay off from the oil sands is considerable. The long-term environmental impact is ponderous. Although it has been rightly argued that the emissions from oil sands production is not significant compared to the rest of Canada, and other sources of petroleum production worldwide, it is the destruction of land and the massive lakes of toxic residue, referred to a tailing ponds, that are most troubling.
I’m not naïve. I know that the world faces significant energy issues in the coming years, and in many ways projects like the oil sands provide a necessary, if unpalatable, short-term solution.
So what are we doing in the meantime?
Yesterday my six year-old son looked at me and asked rather bluntly, “Do we compost?”
Good question. And no, we don’t, but it may be a good time to start. In fact most of the things we can do to reduce our impact on the environment are simple and sensible. Using energy efficient light bulbs, idling our cars less, choosing greener cleaning products, using less water or capturing rain water for lawns and gardens. A good friend recently wrote a terrific blog about some of these ideas, click here to read.
The thing is, our actions don't have to be dramatic or radical. The most profound and effective change comes from simple every day acts.
It's important to have an Earth day, if anything to remind us that life’s blessings do not come courtesy of oil companies but rather this remarkable living, breathing planet. We're not just tenants here, our very existence relies on a healthy, sustained environment. If we make life inhospitable for humans, the planet will carry on long after we are gone. To consider ourselves vital to the future life of the planet is exceedingly arrogant.
So let's celebrate what we have by changing the way we treat the world around us. One way to start might be recognizing that every day is Earth day.
Unless you'd rather the moon.
Go Earth, Go.
The same answer could easily apply to Earth day as well. Today is the day that all the humans on Earth suddenly recognize that they live on …Earth. Yeah, it’s weird considering the fact that everything we need to exist is right here on this planet. We’ve been to the moon, and it turns out you have to bring your own air, water and food with you. It's also really cold and one hell of a commute.
When I was growing up in the west-island burbs, I was something of an environmentalist. Well, actually I didn’t know there was a name for it; I just had a thing for nature. In those days there were more green spaces that, as it turns out, were really just undeveloped land. It wasn’t uncommon to find ponds and brooks filled with tadpoles in the springtime. There were forests where one could lose themselves, and fields of grass where one could explore. When developers showed up to plow over trees in favour of new houses, it bothered me. Of course it never occurred to me that the same thing must have happened before they built my own home.
The thing that really angered me was that even though we lived on an island, surrounded by rivers and lakes, you couldn't swim in them because they were hopelessly polluted. So many years later things have changed a bit, but not by much.
I don’t like the label environmentalist, largely because it isn’t really something you choose to be. We are by nature, inexorably connected to this planet. It provides all of the essential things we need to survive and thrive. To want to preserve those is as natural as taking a breath.
It is often in our obsession with survival that we do ourselves the biggest disservice. Recently I got into a spat with a friend living in Alberta. I’d made some comments about the oil sands projects in the province’s north, in particular coming down on the side of a group of Greenpeace activists. They had hopped a fence at one of the fields and proceeded to occupy a building. Apparently the folks in Alberta are a touch sensitive about anything that besmirches the reputation of the oil sands projects.
Among the scathing rebukes I received was the suggestion that I should be thankful for the blessing that the oil sands had given Canada and the world. Without which we would all be unemployed, living in dark caves and eating canned beans.
The economic pay off from the oil sands is considerable. The long-term environmental impact is ponderous. Although it has been rightly argued that the emissions from oil sands production is not significant compared to the rest of Canada, and other sources of petroleum production worldwide, it is the destruction of land and the massive lakes of toxic residue, referred to a tailing ponds, that are most troubling.
I’m not naïve. I know that the world faces significant energy issues in the coming years, and in many ways projects like the oil sands provide a necessary, if unpalatable, short-term solution.
So what are we doing in the meantime?
Yesterday my six year-old son looked at me and asked rather bluntly, “Do we compost?”
Good question. And no, we don’t, but it may be a good time to start. In fact most of the things we can do to reduce our impact on the environment are simple and sensible. Using energy efficient light bulbs, idling our cars less, choosing greener cleaning products, using less water or capturing rain water for lawns and gardens. A good friend recently wrote a terrific blog about some of these ideas, click here to read.
The thing is, our actions don't have to be dramatic or radical. The most profound and effective change comes from simple every day acts.
It's important to have an Earth day, if anything to remind us that life’s blessings do not come courtesy of oil companies but rather this remarkable living, breathing planet. We're not just tenants here, our very existence relies on a healthy, sustained environment. If we make life inhospitable for humans, the planet will carry on long after we are gone. To consider ourselves vital to the future life of the planet is exceedingly arrogant.
So let's celebrate what we have by changing the way we treat the world around us. One way to start might be recognizing that every day is Earth day.
Unless you'd rather the moon.
Go Earth, Go.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Buyers Aware
About a year ago I went for lunch at a certain restaurant chain (who shall remain nameless, other than the name starts with an ‘N’ and it once had some affiliation with Celine Dion, but that’s all I’m going to say). At any rate, I was trying to find something reasonably healthy on the menu and came across a chicken sandwich that seemed relatively benign, except for the fries that came as a side. So I asked the waitress if I could exchange the fries for a salad, and was told it would cost me an extra $1.50. ‘Really?’ I thought out loud, ‘since when does a bowl of leaves cost more than processed deep fried starch?’
I don’t get why businesses think there is an advantage in nickel and diming their customers. Unless, of course, your establishment is named after the first coin. The biggest consumer turn-off are those silly extra charges for things that should have been included in the first place. It seems to me once you’ve actually attracted a customer (which, as business owners will tell you, is not easy) you should be trying to find ways to keep them. It isn’t rocket science.
A recent example, a recreation centre actually charged us for helium filled balloons used for decoration at our son’s birthday party. This despite the fact that ‘decorations’ were included in the price. Evidently balloons are NOT considered decorations. Net result, zero positive feedback.
I’ve had this beef with a few businesses over the years and I can’t quite get my head around why vendors treat their customers with such contempt. A couple of classic examples:
Mexicana airlines, who from check-in to return, managed to bungle just about every aspect of my vacation travel itinerary. Among the highlights: tickets issued by the airline but not recognized by the staff, accidentally cancelling my reservation, losing my luggage, and a seatbelt that wasn’t actually attached to the aircraft. I was offered virtually no compensation for my trouble other than some air miles with their company. Which I declined. I have this crazy thing about safety harnesses actually being attached to my seat.
Then there were the slimy weasels at H. Gregoire who sold my wife quite possibly the worst lemon of all time. This car needed a transmission repair and an alternator replaced only days after purchase. When I pressed the company for a refund or replacement, they threw the Quebec Consumer act in my face claiming I had no recourse. The transmission later failed completely when my wife and six-month old child were returning from a trip to Ottawa. Thankfully, Mazda came to the rescue and replaced the transmission for free. Apparently it was still covered, something the bottom-feeders at H. Gregoire never bothered to tell us.
Recent data indicates that over two thirds of consumers trust social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter when searching for product information. Only 14% trust traditional advertising. With the social media revolution, more and more consumers are relying on word-of-mouth recommendations than ever before. The Internet has given consumers tremendous power to share information with one another as well as exchange experiences. Just over a quarter of Canada’s population are Facebook users, that amounts to well over 8 million consumers. These numbers don’t include other far-reaching communications services like consumer review sites, blogs, and basic email.
Businesses should take note. Modern consumers have far more powerful research tools at their disposal, as well as an information network that can communicate instant feedback, positive and negative. They are quickly losing faith in traditional forms of advertising, which were once the leading driver of product sales.
It is becoming increasingly apparent in today’s competitive business world, that first impressions are vital to continued success. Particularly with Internet savvy consumers whose attention span is shorter than a toddler. This is why companies like Apple have invested big dollars into creating a unique and positive consumer experience with their stores. They are among many businesses who recognize that branding is much bigger than product value, it is also the shopping experience that drives future sales.
Retailers and service-providers will have to get with the program or face the wrath of an outspoken and well connected consumer base.
I think I speak for all of us when I say it’s about time.
I don’t get why businesses think there is an advantage in nickel and diming their customers. Unless, of course, your establishment is named after the first coin. The biggest consumer turn-off are those silly extra charges for things that should have been included in the first place. It seems to me once you’ve actually attracted a customer (which, as business owners will tell you, is not easy) you should be trying to find ways to keep them. It isn’t rocket science.
A recent example, a recreation centre actually charged us for helium filled balloons used for decoration at our son’s birthday party. This despite the fact that ‘decorations’ were included in the price. Evidently balloons are NOT considered decorations. Net result, zero positive feedback.
I’ve had this beef with a few businesses over the years and I can’t quite get my head around why vendors treat their customers with such contempt. A couple of classic examples:
Mexicana airlines, who from check-in to return, managed to bungle just about every aspect of my vacation travel itinerary. Among the highlights: tickets issued by the airline but not recognized by the staff, accidentally cancelling my reservation, losing my luggage, and a seatbelt that wasn’t actually attached to the aircraft. I was offered virtually no compensation for my trouble other than some air miles with their company. Which I declined. I have this crazy thing about safety harnesses actually being attached to my seat.
Then there were the slimy weasels at H. Gregoire who sold my wife quite possibly the worst lemon of all time. This car needed a transmission repair and an alternator replaced only days after purchase. When I pressed the company for a refund or replacement, they threw the Quebec Consumer act in my face claiming I had no recourse. The transmission later failed completely when my wife and six-month old child were returning from a trip to Ottawa. Thankfully, Mazda came to the rescue and replaced the transmission for free. Apparently it was still covered, something the bottom-feeders at H. Gregoire never bothered to tell us.
Recent data indicates that over two thirds of consumers trust social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter when searching for product information. Only 14% trust traditional advertising. With the social media revolution, more and more consumers are relying on word-of-mouth recommendations than ever before. The Internet has given consumers tremendous power to share information with one another as well as exchange experiences. Just over a quarter of Canada’s population are Facebook users, that amounts to well over 8 million consumers. These numbers don’t include other far-reaching communications services like consumer review sites, blogs, and basic email.
Businesses should take note. Modern consumers have far more powerful research tools at their disposal, as well as an information network that can communicate instant feedback, positive and negative. They are quickly losing faith in traditional forms of advertising, which were once the leading driver of product sales.
It is becoming increasingly apparent in today’s competitive business world, that first impressions are vital to continued success. Particularly with Internet savvy consumers whose attention span is shorter than a toddler. This is why companies like Apple have invested big dollars into creating a unique and positive consumer experience with their stores. They are among many businesses who recognize that branding is much bigger than product value, it is also the shopping experience that drives future sales.
Retailers and service-providers will have to get with the program or face the wrath of an outspoken and well connected consumer base.
I think I speak for all of us when I say it’s about time.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Harsh and Beautiful
The game of golf is simple. Take a little white ball, just over an inch and a half in diameter, and using various implements, put said ball into a four inch hole roughly four hundred yards away. Not complicated, right? Unless of course, one is required to do so by using their implements no more than four times. Well now, that's just flat-out impossible.
Only the Scottish could have invented such a game. I can say this because I am a purebred, Scotch-swilling, kilt-wearing, mutton pie-eating, stark raving mad Scot.
Scotland is a beautiful country, with rolling hills and picturesque countryside. A bright green jewel with magnificent shorelines, majestic ancient mountains and an abundance of natural diversity. It's also freakin' cold. The worst cold too, damp and rainy cold. Fortunately, my ancestors were a hardy bunch, staking out their claims on vast tracts of land for farming, raising sheep and of course fighting with one another almost constantly. The only thing that kept the country together was defending themselves against the English, who in those days were never content unless they were invading someone else's country. This might also explain why my ancestors put up with all that damp cold.
There is some debate about where golf was invented. That is to say there is some debate among people who are not Scottish and think it was invented by some other country. They're completely wrong of course, but they're free to debate amongst themselves whilst us Scots play a round at the Royal and Ancient St. Andrews, the oldest golf course in the world.
Anyhoo, I figure once the Scots discovered how golf is both addictive and infuriating, they concluded that there was no better revenge against the invading hoards than to infect them with the game. It must have worked, the English haven't invaded since, unless they finally realized the country was just too cold and damp to bother.
Like every other golf fanatic I am completely addicted to the game. Among those who refer to themselves as golfers, it's hard to find any who consider themselves casual players. At any given moment a golfer is either thinking about her or his next round, last round, and everything they need to do in order to improve in between.
If hockey is a game of inches, then golf is a game of millimetres. If you tweak your body in one direction or another during a golf swing, your ball is likely to spin off in some wild and unpredictable direction. Which is why no other sport in the world can match the game of golf when it comes to advice, tips and techniques. In fact the golf swing is among the most complex mental and physical balancing acts of any sport. For the average golfer, the game is sometimes more frustrating than satisfying.
So why the obsession? The best way to explain it to the uninitiated is to take them to a driving range. Give them some instruction on proper technique, and them let them swing away. Eventually they will hit one incredibly perfect shot. That's when the infection begins, and they will spend the rest of their living, breathing days trying to duplicate it.
For me, there are so many things that I love about the game. Golf courses are often surrounded by some of the most beautiful natural scenery. There is a certain serenity to a golf course on an early morning or at twilight. There is the fellowship among playing partners, laughing, commiserating, celebrating. With so many demands on our time today, such camaraderie is rare but so needed. There is the mental and physical challenge of the game. Calculating all of the variables: distance, wind speed and direction, where the ball lies, club selection and of course the mental fortitude to execute the shot when all factors have been considered.
Perhaps it is true that only the Scots could have invented such a game. Living in a land that is both harsh and beautiful, I can imagine few other games that capture these notions so perfectly.
Fore!
Only the Scottish could have invented such a game. I can say this because I am a purebred, Scotch-swilling, kilt-wearing, mutton pie-eating, stark raving mad Scot.
Scotland is a beautiful country, with rolling hills and picturesque countryside. A bright green jewel with magnificent shorelines, majestic ancient mountains and an abundance of natural diversity. It's also freakin' cold. The worst cold too, damp and rainy cold. Fortunately, my ancestors were a hardy bunch, staking out their claims on vast tracts of land for farming, raising sheep and of course fighting with one another almost constantly. The only thing that kept the country together was defending themselves against the English, who in those days were never content unless they were invading someone else's country. This might also explain why my ancestors put up with all that damp cold.
There is some debate about where golf was invented. That is to say there is some debate among people who are not Scottish and think it was invented by some other country. They're completely wrong of course, but they're free to debate amongst themselves whilst us Scots play a round at the Royal and Ancient St. Andrews, the oldest golf course in the world.
Anyhoo, I figure once the Scots discovered how golf is both addictive and infuriating, they concluded that there was no better revenge against the invading hoards than to infect them with the game. It must have worked, the English haven't invaded since, unless they finally realized the country was just too cold and damp to bother.
Like every other golf fanatic I am completely addicted to the game. Among those who refer to themselves as golfers, it's hard to find any who consider themselves casual players. At any given moment a golfer is either thinking about her or his next round, last round, and everything they need to do in order to improve in between.
If hockey is a game of inches, then golf is a game of millimetres. If you tweak your body in one direction or another during a golf swing, your ball is likely to spin off in some wild and unpredictable direction. Which is why no other sport in the world can match the game of golf when it comes to advice, tips and techniques. In fact the golf swing is among the most complex mental and physical balancing acts of any sport. For the average golfer, the game is sometimes more frustrating than satisfying.
So why the obsession? The best way to explain it to the uninitiated is to take them to a driving range. Give them some instruction on proper technique, and them let them swing away. Eventually they will hit one incredibly perfect shot. That's when the infection begins, and they will spend the rest of their living, breathing days trying to duplicate it.
For me, there are so many things that I love about the game. Golf courses are often surrounded by some of the most beautiful natural scenery. There is a certain serenity to a golf course on an early morning or at twilight. There is the fellowship among playing partners, laughing, commiserating, celebrating. With so many demands on our time today, such camaraderie is rare but so needed. There is the mental and physical challenge of the game. Calculating all of the variables: distance, wind speed and direction, where the ball lies, club selection and of course the mental fortitude to execute the shot when all factors have been considered.
Perhaps it is true that only the Scots could have invented such a game. Living in a land that is both harsh and beautiful, I can imagine few other games that capture these notions so perfectly.
Fore!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Habs Pride
I took an unofficial poll on the mood of Canadiens fans before Game one of the playoffs last Thursday. It was conducted on my way to work on Highways 40, 13 and 440. This is my stimulating and adventurous route into work every morning. I was surveying the number of cars who had one of those Habs flags attached to the back window of their car. I saw one.
After a somewhat improbable win for the Canadiens in game one, a few more cars could be seen around town sporting the white plastic pole with the Habs logo flapping in the wind. Despite Saturday night's heartbreaking loss, the flags continued to multiply. Hmm, now why would that be?
Habs fans have been accused in the past of being bandwagon hoppers. It's probably a fair assessment if you didn't know the fans in this city. The thing is, being fan of the Canadiens requires two things, passion and something of a grip on reality. Fans of the Bleu-blanc-rouge love their team, I mean really love their team. So much so, that there is never a shortage of opinion as to how things should be run, from upper management right down to quarter-backing the power play. There is also a significant pride in their team, but what many don't understand is that this goes far beyond the current players, coaches and managers.
The Canadiens, for lack of a better term, is a brand. One that represents a level of excellence, on and off the ice, that few in other sports franchises possess. The Canadiens are up there with the New York Yankees, Manchester United and even (ugh) the Dallas Cowboys. Each of these teams has a rich history with numerous championships, in addition to coaches and players who became legends beyond their respective games.
Habs fans are often divided by the love of their team and supporting the players on the ice. Normally you wouldn't think the two could be separated, but for fans of the Tricouleurs, this distinction is a simple one. It's why, from time to time, fans will express their displeasure with a poor effort. There is an expectation of performance when a player wears the CH, and just wearing the uniform doesn't buy forgiveness for complacency. This can sometimes be unfairly directed at the wrong person, as it was for Carey Price a few weeks ago.
As I alluded to earlier, Habs fans know how to manage expectations. The Canadiens stumbled their way into this year's playoffs, with lacklustre and passionless performances in their last four games. Throughout the year, the Habs have failed to demonstrate consistency and the ability to win key games when necessary. And yet they also won a few games that many expected them to lose. Now they are facing arguably the best team in the Eastern Conference. To expect Canadiens fans to be optimistic of their team's chances would be a stretch.
So, does that make them bad fans? Not when it comes to the Habs. Of course they'll be there to cheer them on, but they also remember the team that showed up, or sometimes didn't show up, during the season. They hope for the best, but are not going to pretend that the current team has its work cut out for them. It's not disloyalty, it's just being realistic. Unlike fans of many other franchises, Habs fans can do that without devaluing the overall product.
No matter what happens this year, Habs fans will be no less proud of their team and everything it represents. If you enjoy rooting for a team even when management and players are phoning it in, then you forfeit the right to be critical of fans with higher expectations. The road to greatness is not paved with mediocrity.
For Habs fans, the CH is bigger than any one person, player or group. If the effort and dedication is there, even when they falter, then they have earned their praise. What kind of fan would expect less?
Go Habs, Go.
After a somewhat improbable win for the Canadiens in game one, a few more cars could be seen around town sporting the white plastic pole with the Habs logo flapping in the wind. Despite Saturday night's heartbreaking loss, the flags continued to multiply. Hmm, now why would that be?
Habs fans have been accused in the past of being bandwagon hoppers. It's probably a fair assessment if you didn't know the fans in this city. The thing is, being fan of the Canadiens requires two things, passion and something of a grip on reality. Fans of the Bleu-blanc-rouge love their team, I mean really love their team. So much so, that there is never a shortage of opinion as to how things should be run, from upper management right down to quarter-backing the power play. There is also a significant pride in their team, but what many don't understand is that this goes far beyond the current players, coaches and managers.
The Canadiens, for lack of a better term, is a brand. One that represents a level of excellence, on and off the ice, that few in other sports franchises possess. The Canadiens are up there with the New York Yankees, Manchester United and even (ugh) the Dallas Cowboys. Each of these teams has a rich history with numerous championships, in addition to coaches and players who became legends beyond their respective games.
Habs fans are often divided by the love of their team and supporting the players on the ice. Normally you wouldn't think the two could be separated, but for fans of the Tricouleurs, this distinction is a simple one. It's why, from time to time, fans will express their displeasure with a poor effort. There is an expectation of performance when a player wears the CH, and just wearing the uniform doesn't buy forgiveness for complacency. This can sometimes be unfairly directed at the wrong person, as it was for Carey Price a few weeks ago.
As I alluded to earlier, Habs fans know how to manage expectations. The Canadiens stumbled their way into this year's playoffs, with lacklustre and passionless performances in their last four games. Throughout the year, the Habs have failed to demonstrate consistency and the ability to win key games when necessary. And yet they also won a few games that many expected them to lose. Now they are facing arguably the best team in the Eastern Conference. To expect Canadiens fans to be optimistic of their team's chances would be a stretch.
So, does that make them bad fans? Not when it comes to the Habs. Of course they'll be there to cheer them on, but they also remember the team that showed up, or sometimes didn't show up, during the season. They hope for the best, but are not going to pretend that the current team has its work cut out for them. It's not disloyalty, it's just being realistic. Unlike fans of many other franchises, Habs fans can do that without devaluing the overall product.
No matter what happens this year, Habs fans will be no less proud of their team and everything it represents. If you enjoy rooting for a team even when management and players are phoning it in, then you forfeit the right to be critical of fans with higher expectations. The road to greatness is not paved with mediocrity.
For Habs fans, the CH is bigger than any one person, player or group. If the effort and dedication is there, even when they falter, then they have earned their praise. What kind of fan would expect less?
Go Habs, Go.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Friday Time Waster Supreme: The Return of The King
Ah, sweet merciful Friday. The weekend beckons like a sweet ocean siren. I have no idea what that means, but hell the workday is almost done. In honour of quittin' time, yet another collection of thoughts and observations from a weary mind.
In a recent column, Globe and Mail writer and author Stephen Brunt dubbed the city of Toronto “loserville.” This after both the Raptors and the Leafs won both of their season ending games while failing to make the playoffs. The Argonauts and Toronto FC are also leaking oil all over their respective playing fields. What I find interesting is that baseball fans in the city are doing what Leafs fans should have done years ago. That is, refusing to fork out for outrageous expensive tickets to watch a team that can’t compete.
For all their bluster, Leaf’s nation has been way too tolerant of mediocrity. Maybe they should stop wasting their energy trashing-talking Habs fans and direct it at running Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment out of town.
* * *
Citizens of Denmark can breathe a sigh of relief, sort of. Carlsberg brewery workers are back on the job after a five-day strike. The bru-ha-ha erupted over a management decision to cut free daily beer rations. Included in the employee revolt were some 50 delivery truck drivers. The strike ended when it was agreed that the beer could only be consumed during lunch hour in the canteen. The new rule applies to all employees, that is except for the drivers who are allowed three a day, at any time.
The famous brand slogan “Probably the best beer in the word” can now be adapted for the country “probably the most dangerous place to drive in the world.”
* * *
Here’s a measuring stick for the success of your career, Miley Cyrus just bought herself a $ 3.4 million estate for her 18th birthday. She’ll be just a couple of doors down from the parent’s house. She and mom plan to do the decorating to give the joint a real ‘Zen’ feel.
Actually, it’s not much different from when I turned 18. I think I blew 34 bucks on beer and junk food. Eventually I passed out while watching a VHS rental of The Karate Kid in my parent’s basement. It was kind of a Zen thing. Wax on, wax off.
* * *
There’s a huge dark cloud hanging over Europe and for once it does not involve a World War. Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull (pronounced: Eye-oy-ats-a-frikin-cloud) volcano is spewing huge amounts of ash and dust into the upper atmosphere, grounding thousands of flights across Europe. I figure by this time next week, gazillionaire Richard Branson will have announced the launch of Virgin Zeppelin.
* * *
It's funny how the US media and every card-carrying republican were going berserk over healthcare a few weeks ago. The other day when Obama suggested that NASA should use its bloated government-subsidized budget on a mission to Mars, the GOP and the press barely twitched. Apparently getting grandma affordable meds is much worse than blowing a wad of tax money on a bridge to outer space.
* * *
Allow me to provide a follow up statement for Tomas Plekanec: 'See?'
Have yourself a lovely weekend. Go Habs Go.
In a recent column, Globe and Mail writer and author Stephen Brunt dubbed the city of Toronto “loserville.” This after both the Raptors and the Leafs won both of their season ending games while failing to make the playoffs. The Argonauts and Toronto FC are also leaking oil all over their respective playing fields. What I find interesting is that baseball fans in the city are doing what Leafs fans should have done years ago. That is, refusing to fork out for outrageous expensive tickets to watch a team that can’t compete.
For all their bluster, Leaf’s nation has been way too tolerant of mediocrity. Maybe they should stop wasting their energy trashing-talking Habs fans and direct it at running Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment out of town.
* * *
Citizens of Denmark can breathe a sigh of relief, sort of. Carlsberg brewery workers are back on the job after a five-day strike. The bru-ha-ha erupted over a management decision to cut free daily beer rations. Included in the employee revolt were some 50 delivery truck drivers. The strike ended when it was agreed that the beer could only be consumed during lunch hour in the canteen. The new rule applies to all employees, that is except for the drivers who are allowed three a day, at any time.
The famous brand slogan “Probably the best beer in the word” can now be adapted for the country “probably the most dangerous place to drive in the world.”
* * *
Here’s a measuring stick for the success of your career, Miley Cyrus just bought herself a $ 3.4 million estate for her 18th birthday. She’ll be just a couple of doors down from the parent’s house. She and mom plan to do the decorating to give the joint a real ‘Zen’ feel.
Actually, it’s not much different from when I turned 18. I think I blew 34 bucks on beer and junk food. Eventually I passed out while watching a VHS rental of The Karate Kid in my parent’s basement. It was kind of a Zen thing. Wax on, wax off.
* * *
There’s a huge dark cloud hanging over Europe and for once it does not involve a World War. Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull (pronounced: Eye-oy-ats-a-frikin-cloud) volcano is spewing huge amounts of ash and dust into the upper atmosphere, grounding thousands of flights across Europe. I figure by this time next week, gazillionaire Richard Branson will have announced the launch of Virgin Zeppelin.
* * *
It's funny how the US media and every card-carrying republican were going berserk over healthcare a few weeks ago. The other day when Obama suggested that NASA should use its bloated government-subsidized budget on a mission to Mars, the GOP and the press barely twitched. Apparently getting grandma affordable meds is much worse than blowing a wad of tax money on a bridge to outer space.
* * *
Allow me to provide a follow up statement for Tomas Plekanec: 'See?'
Have yourself a lovely weekend. Go Habs Go.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Gospel According to Bueller
One of my favourite movies of all time is Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Of all the eighties film classics attributed to John Hughes, Ferris Bueller is perhaps the most whimsical and imaginative, if not downright hilarious. There is also something imperceptibly theological about it.
If you've never seen the film, the plot is fairly simple. Bueller, a lovable teenage rogue, fakes an illness to get out of going to school. After his working parents leave for their respective offices, he sets off to collect his emotionally tortured friend Cameron Frye. Bueller convinces Cameron to sneak away with his absentee father's classic 1961 Ferrari GT. Along with Bueller's girlfriend, they head off on an adventure in downtown Chicago.
Of course there is much more to the film than that. The movie at times swerves towards social commentary, at one point suggesting the career-minded parents of the eighties were perhaps to blame for a generation's angst. But that wasn't true of Bueller's parents. Although fitting the profile of a dual income family, the affection they showed for their children, albeit fumbling, was genuine.
There was a not too subtle, and hysterical, take on the disconnect between society's institutions, in this case high school, and the people they're meant to serve, the young students. Edward Rooney, the school's principal, is portrayed as a Clouseau-esque prison warden obsessed with uncovering Bueller's deception. Classroom scenes show students almost hypnotized by the oppressively dull and lifeless lectures that did nothing to engage a curious mind. Such dead-on depictions of high school life were often a signature of Hughes' movies. But again, it wasn't the main point of the film.
The main theme of the movie is Bueller's contention that rules that keep us from experiencing life were meant to be broken.
The odd-couple relationship between Frye and Bueller dominates most of the film. Ferris was a kid who could get away with just about anything. He was charming, likable and had an innate ability to live in the moment. Cameron laments in the film that Bueller was everything he wasn't. He lacked confidence, he was aloof and his boundaries were often based on fear.
The relationship Hughes steers us towards is the one between Cameron and his estranged father. Interestingly, we never see the father in the film, we only see the fruits of his extensive, high priced collection. As Frye observed, he was not one of them.
We'd all like to think that deep down inside we're just like Ferris Bueller. Adventurous, popular, fun loving, carefree. The truth is, he is perhaps the most fictional character of the film. We are much more like Cameron than we want to admit. We hesitate, we lack spontaneity, we fear change, and more than anything we look to the Ferris Bueller's of the world to elevate ourselves. In many ways, these qualities are inherently human.
Without giving the ending away (for those that haven't seen it) Ferris Bueller's Day Off is the story of a young man on a collision course with an ugly, but necessary, life-altering confrontation. The young man was Cameron.
Which leads me back to that imperceptible theological subtext in the film. Almost all of Cameron's flaws and weaknesses could be traced back to a relationship devoid of love. For Cameron and his father, it was based on expectations and conditions, things that could be measured and marked as achievements or failures. What he longed for, more than anything, was even the slightest hint of unconditional love. It explains why he was so drawn to Bueller, and also why he felt at times, so desperately lost.
This is an underlying theme in many theologies. For people of faith, God's relationship to humanity begins and ends with unconditional love. I say this not because I think churches have a lock on this idea, but rather to illustrate the fact that the pursuit of this kind of relationship has been around since the first creature looked into the eyes of its child.
To love, without condition or expectation of reciprocation, is a risky gambit. But of all the bold and courageous acts we could possibly imagine to resolve conflict, misunderstanding and bring reconciliation, unconditional love has no equal.
I don't think Hughes' intended the film to be an endorsement of organized religion, but rather to make a statement about the human condition. We are always seeking to find belonging, meaning, acceptance and love. Some find this in spirituality and some through the inspiration of others. In either case, our growth as a person is often the result of overcoming our fears, and in doing so we discover a strength and courage that was there all along.
Every once in a while we need a little Bueller just to shake things up, because life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
If you've never seen the film, the plot is fairly simple. Bueller, a lovable teenage rogue, fakes an illness to get out of going to school. After his working parents leave for their respective offices, he sets off to collect his emotionally tortured friend Cameron Frye. Bueller convinces Cameron to sneak away with his absentee father's classic 1961 Ferrari GT. Along with Bueller's girlfriend, they head off on an adventure in downtown Chicago.
Of course there is much more to the film than that. The movie at times swerves towards social commentary, at one point suggesting the career-minded parents of the eighties were perhaps to blame for a generation's angst. But that wasn't true of Bueller's parents. Although fitting the profile of a dual income family, the affection they showed for their children, albeit fumbling, was genuine.
There was a not too subtle, and hysterical, take on the disconnect between society's institutions, in this case high school, and the people they're meant to serve, the young students. Edward Rooney, the school's principal, is portrayed as a Clouseau-esque prison warden obsessed with uncovering Bueller's deception. Classroom scenes show students almost hypnotized by the oppressively dull and lifeless lectures that did nothing to engage a curious mind. Such dead-on depictions of high school life were often a signature of Hughes' movies. But again, it wasn't the main point of the film.
The main theme of the movie is Bueller's contention that rules that keep us from experiencing life were meant to be broken.
The odd-couple relationship between Frye and Bueller dominates most of the film. Ferris was a kid who could get away with just about anything. He was charming, likable and had an innate ability to live in the moment. Cameron laments in the film that Bueller was everything he wasn't. He lacked confidence, he was aloof and his boundaries were often based on fear.
The relationship Hughes steers us towards is the one between Cameron and his estranged father. Interestingly, we never see the father in the film, we only see the fruits of his extensive, high priced collection. As Frye observed, he was not one of them.
We'd all like to think that deep down inside we're just like Ferris Bueller. Adventurous, popular, fun loving, carefree. The truth is, he is perhaps the most fictional character of the film. We are much more like Cameron than we want to admit. We hesitate, we lack spontaneity, we fear change, and more than anything we look to the Ferris Bueller's of the world to elevate ourselves. In many ways, these qualities are inherently human.
Without giving the ending away (for those that haven't seen it) Ferris Bueller's Day Off is the story of a young man on a collision course with an ugly, but necessary, life-altering confrontation. The young man was Cameron.
Which leads me back to that imperceptible theological subtext in the film. Almost all of Cameron's flaws and weaknesses could be traced back to a relationship devoid of love. For Cameron and his father, it was based on expectations and conditions, things that could be measured and marked as achievements or failures. What he longed for, more than anything, was even the slightest hint of unconditional love. It explains why he was so drawn to Bueller, and also why he felt at times, so desperately lost.
This is an underlying theme in many theologies. For people of faith, God's relationship to humanity begins and ends with unconditional love. I say this not because I think churches have a lock on this idea, but rather to illustrate the fact that the pursuit of this kind of relationship has been around since the first creature looked into the eyes of its child.
To love, without condition or expectation of reciprocation, is a risky gambit. But of all the bold and courageous acts we could possibly imagine to resolve conflict, misunderstanding and bring reconciliation, unconditional love has no equal.
I don't think Hughes' intended the film to be an endorsement of organized religion, but rather to make a statement about the human condition. We are always seeking to find belonging, meaning, acceptance and love. Some find this in spirituality and some through the inspiration of others. In either case, our growth as a person is often the result of overcoming our fears, and in doing so we discover a strength and courage that was there all along.
Every once in a while we need a little Bueller just to shake things up, because life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Daddyhood 101
It's hard to put into words what it means to be a dad. There are so many ways to describe the parental experience, the vast majority of which are positive, but there are one or two little negatives along the way. Of course, when you decide to bring children into your life, you really don't have any clue what to expect, even if you thought you did.
When my wife and I got married seven years ago, we both agreed that we would like to add to our little family. Our son Josh was just ten years old at the time and we knew that he was excited at the prospect of being a big brother. It was something we talked about frequently, but we didn't actually make any firm plans. This is something for which my wife and I are quite gifted. Eventually, she decided to take matters into her own hands. One beautiful spring day, my wife and I went for lunch at the Willows, one of our favourite haunts. I wasn't aware at the time that a midday escape was not the only item on the agenda. It was all a plot, I would learn later, to get me beyond the 'I'd like to have kids someday' phase.
So we charted our course from there and you can pretty much figure out the rest.
It wasn't like I didn't have any experience as a dad. I had been a step-dad to Josh for a while. My experience in this role had taught me a many things. As a parent you discover that even with your flaws and foibles, your child will still grow up to love you, but as a step-parent that love has to be earned every day. Which is why I have often felt that building this relationship was one of the more rewarding experiences of my life.
When I first found out that my wife was pregnant, my response was 'wow.' Another great personal moment of eloquence. At the time I couldn't think of a better word. Wow. It was part joyful anticipation and part nagging uncertainty. It was impossible to know then if I was prepared for fatherhood. I was even unsure of how I would cope during my wife's pregnancy. I've always found it easy to say that one is prepared to face any given circumstance, but until you're in it, you really don't know.
It's not difficult to become intellectually prepared for parenthood. There is no shortage of experts who have written entire libraries on the subject. A significant portion of which does more to scare the bejeebers out of expectant parents than it serves to inform. One gets the impression that there is a virtually unending list of things that parents must do right, lest we condemn our offspring to a lifetime of setbacks and failures. One thing I learned not long into parenthood was that a stack of books was great to sit on while changing a diaper, but not much use for anything else.
Every kid is unique as is every situation. While we can draw from generalities and the knowledge gained from the experiences of others, there is no substitute for plain old common sense and following your instincts. Yes we have them, and they will show up when needed.
Now that I've been a dad for a while now, I can say with some authority that there is simply no greater, more wonderful, more life-altering experience than being a parent. It will mine the depths of your emotions like no other. It will draw strengths from within that you never thought possible. It will push you to the limits of tolerance and sometimes beyond. It will bring a joy so profound that it reverberates right down to your core.
When you become a parent, for better or worse, it changes you. This isn't a superficial change, it is fundamental. You can't go back to the person you were before, and you may at times find you don't even recognize your old self.
As a parent you laugh harder, feel heartache deeper and experience even the simplest moments with greater richness.
Today is my son's sixth birthday. In those short six years I can say that I have experienced all of the above hundreds of times over. Every day I am surprised and amazed at how this little boy has transformed my life. How he can drive you to the point of insanity in one second, then melt your heart to a blob in the next. Watching him grow and seeing the world through the innocence of his eyes is something that never gets old. He is full-on energy, and giggles, and curiousity, and demands, and silliness, and hugs, all in one compact little package.
Along the way, this poor child has had to cope with a dad who fumbles and stumbles as he tries to figure out all the right things to do and say. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes not so much. Happily he doesn't seem any worse for wear, and somehow I managed to become a little wiser. The best part, for me at least, is that parenthood just seems to get better with time. The challenges get bigger and the problems get more complicated, but these only serve to make the relationship that much deeper.
I still don't know how I measure up to all those parenting experts, but when my kid walks up to me without prompting, gives me a hug and says 'I love you daddy,' I figure I'm doin' okay.
Happy Birthday Noah.
When my wife and I got married seven years ago, we both agreed that we would like to add to our little family. Our son Josh was just ten years old at the time and we knew that he was excited at the prospect of being a big brother. It was something we talked about frequently, but we didn't actually make any firm plans. This is something for which my wife and I are quite gifted. Eventually, she decided to take matters into her own hands. One beautiful spring day, my wife and I went for lunch at the Willows, one of our favourite haunts. I wasn't aware at the time that a midday escape was not the only item on the agenda. It was all a plot, I would learn later, to get me beyond the 'I'd like to have kids someday' phase.
So we charted our course from there and you can pretty much figure out the rest.
It wasn't like I didn't have any experience as a dad. I had been a step-dad to Josh for a while. My experience in this role had taught me a many things. As a parent you discover that even with your flaws and foibles, your child will still grow up to love you, but as a step-parent that love has to be earned every day. Which is why I have often felt that building this relationship was one of the more rewarding experiences of my life.
When I first found out that my wife was pregnant, my response was 'wow.' Another great personal moment of eloquence. At the time I couldn't think of a better word. Wow. It was part joyful anticipation and part nagging uncertainty. It was impossible to know then if I was prepared for fatherhood. I was even unsure of how I would cope during my wife's pregnancy. I've always found it easy to say that one is prepared to face any given circumstance, but until you're in it, you really don't know.
It's not difficult to become intellectually prepared for parenthood. There is no shortage of experts who have written entire libraries on the subject. A significant portion of which does more to scare the bejeebers out of expectant parents than it serves to inform. One gets the impression that there is a virtually unending list of things that parents must do right, lest we condemn our offspring to a lifetime of setbacks and failures. One thing I learned not long into parenthood was that a stack of books was great to sit on while changing a diaper, but not much use for anything else.
Every kid is unique as is every situation. While we can draw from generalities and the knowledge gained from the experiences of others, there is no substitute for plain old common sense and following your instincts. Yes we have them, and they will show up when needed.
Now that I've been a dad for a while now, I can say with some authority that there is simply no greater, more wonderful, more life-altering experience than being a parent. It will mine the depths of your emotions like no other. It will draw strengths from within that you never thought possible. It will push you to the limits of tolerance and sometimes beyond. It will bring a joy so profound that it reverberates right down to your core.
When you become a parent, for better or worse, it changes you. This isn't a superficial change, it is fundamental. You can't go back to the person you were before, and you may at times find you don't even recognize your old self.
As a parent you laugh harder, feel heartache deeper and experience even the simplest moments with greater richness.
Today is my son's sixth birthday. In those short six years I can say that I have experienced all of the above hundreds of times over. Every day I am surprised and amazed at how this little boy has transformed my life. How he can drive you to the point of insanity in one second, then melt your heart to a blob in the next. Watching him grow and seeing the world through the innocence of his eyes is something that never gets old. He is full-on energy, and giggles, and curiousity, and demands, and silliness, and hugs, all in one compact little package.
Along the way, this poor child has had to cope with a dad who fumbles and stumbles as he tries to figure out all the right things to do and say. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes not so much. Happily he doesn't seem any worse for wear, and somehow I managed to become a little wiser. The best part, for me at least, is that parenthood just seems to get better with time. The challenges get bigger and the problems get more complicated, but these only serve to make the relationship that much deeper.
I still don't know how I measure up to all those parenting experts, but when my kid walks up to me without prompting, gives me a hug and says 'I love you daddy,' I figure I'm doin' okay.
Happy Birthday Noah.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Attack of The Friday Time Waster Supreme
Ah, the blessed end of the week. To launch you into weekend mode, here is yet another collection of thoughts that are probably best kept inside my head. Please read responsibly.
Bloc head Gilles (The Hairnet) Duceppe is traveling across Canada to talk Quebec sovereignty. More specifically, he is speaking to university students in the ROC to gauge public opinion of Quebec and Canada's ongoing constitutional quandary. I guess he couldn't find anyone in Quebec willing to listen.
* * *
You've probably already seen the new Nike commercial that shows a black and white image of Tiger looking remorseful while his father (who has been dead for four years) seems to be lecturing him. It turns out the sound byte from the late Earl Woods was actually a reference Tiger's mom, Kultida. Earl was explaining one of the many differences between the couple. Just one more element that makes this creepy commercial even creepier.
Has Nike crossed the line? Perhaps, but then everybody is talking about it, almost everybody has seen it, and probably no one will forget it.
In advertising, mission accomplished.
* * *
Things you need to know: When I Google The Shroom Chronicle it appears third from the the top with the blog Beautiful, Perfect Love. It's good to know that a tribute to my wife ranks higher than Noogie Diplomacy.
* * *
From the 'WTF was that all about?' department: A video is circulating YouTube featuring a group of high school students using a baseball bat to smash a brand new iPad to smithereens.
The video, created by 19-year-old Justin Kockott (a name I did not make up), is brilliantly titled "Brand new iPad getting smashed by a baseball bat."
The future candidate for president of NBC described his M.O. as follows: "I wanted to be the first one to do it before other people did it. It was just something to do."
If this is the generation who will be looking after us in our old age, maybe I'll just take a bat to myself.
* * *
I can proudly say that this is my 48th consecutive blog that does not mention Justin Bieber ...dammit!
* * *
Scientists were surprised by recent data that showed the polar ice caps have actually expanded in the last year and not contracted. Researchers are busily analysing the data to try and understand the reason.
My guess is that it was cold.
* * *
Put up your feet, raise a glass, enjoy the weekend.
Bloc head Gilles (The Hairnet) Duceppe is traveling across Canada to talk Quebec sovereignty. More specifically, he is speaking to university students in the ROC to gauge public opinion of Quebec and Canada's ongoing constitutional quandary. I guess he couldn't find anyone in Quebec willing to listen.
* * *
You've probably already seen the new Nike commercial that shows a black and white image of Tiger looking remorseful while his father (who has been dead for four years) seems to be lecturing him. It turns out the sound byte from the late Earl Woods was actually a reference Tiger's mom, Kultida. Earl was explaining one of the many differences between the couple. Just one more element that makes this creepy commercial even creepier.
Has Nike crossed the line? Perhaps, but then everybody is talking about it, almost everybody has seen it, and probably no one will forget it.
In advertising, mission accomplished.
* * *
Things you need to know: When I Google The Shroom Chronicle it appears third from the the top with the blog Beautiful, Perfect Love. It's good to know that a tribute to my wife ranks higher than Noogie Diplomacy.
* * *
From the 'WTF was that all about?' department: A video is circulating YouTube featuring a group of high school students using a baseball bat to smash a brand new iPad to smithereens.
The video, created by 19-year-old Justin Kockott (a name I did not make up), is brilliantly titled "Brand new iPad getting smashed by a baseball bat."
The future candidate for president of NBC described his M.O. as follows: "I wanted to be the first one to do it before other people did it. It was just something to do."
If this is the generation who will be looking after us in our old age, maybe I'll just take a bat to myself.
* * *
I can proudly say that this is my 48th consecutive blog that does not mention Justin Bieber ...dammit!
* * *
Scientists were surprised by recent data that showed the polar ice caps have actually expanded in the last year and not contracted. Researchers are busily analysing the data to try and understand the reason.
My guess is that it was cold.
* * *
Put up your feet, raise a glass, enjoy the weekend.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
ePhobia
News you need to know: It seems researchers (who couldn't get a grant to do real research) have discovered that the proliferation of cell phones, smartphones and PDAs is affecting an entire generation's ability to remember phone numbers. Many, if not all of these devices have the capability of storing personal information, such as address books. Some phones will even dial the desired number with a simple voice command.
Horrors, a generation deprived of the joy of memorizing complex numerical combinations. It's the end of civilization as we know it.
Okay, before you start digging your bunkers, a moment of clarity if I may. The household telephone has changed a lot over the years. It used to be bolted to a wall and connected to the phone company via a half inch thick cable. It had a rotary dial, which if you had to call someone who had a number with five nines in it, could easily cause a friction burn. The phone was made of the densest material available. In case of an emergency, the receiver could be used to break down a door or render an assailant unconscious. While practical, the old rotary phone could hardly be considered 'smart.'
Remembering phone numbers had nothing to do with superior mental skills, it was a matter of necessity. Do I miss having to remember everybody's phone number? No. On the best day I can barely remember my own. Besides, it's not like a device to record this information is a new idea. It used to be called the phone book.
Whenever a new technology hits the scene some people get all hot and bothered. As if every new development carries with it some jarring moral crisis. History's greatest innovations have always come at the expense of existing technologies yet somehow we all manage to survive and adapt.
"Fire, hmph, in my day we ate raw meat and froze to death, and we liked it."
I blame George Orwell for inciting the modern era's penchant for technophobia. Nineteen Eighty-Four, his dystopian romp about fascism gone wild, is the most often cited piece of literature when it comes to any new technology. Ever since the first computer got connected to another all we heard was: "Big Brother is watching."
Watching what, exactly? An unending stream of dirty jokes and promotions for Viagra? If we presume it is the government that is watching us, they are either not very observant or too lazy to do anything with the information. Besides, the government can't even keep track of tax dollars, let alone the population at large.
The current hot topic among the technophobe crowd is eBooks. These are books that can be read on your computer or portable reading device, such as Amazon's Kindle. eBooks will likely do to the bookstore what iTunes and MP3s have done to the record shop.
There is legitimate concern regarding the technology's economic impact as the publishing industry shifts from ink and paper to electronics. Conversely, digital print offers the benefit of vast libraries of easily obtainable information, in a lightweight and portable format. Compared to traditional print, this technology offers a significantly reduced environmental impact, not to mention easing the considerable burden on students who are often laden with heavy textbooks.
In the case of eBooks, the technological genie is out of the bottle. How industry responds is really a question of how well corporations have positioned themselves in anticipation of innovation. Businesses, like people, can't afford to assume nothing will ever change.
The goal of technology was never to make a better person, but rather to provide the tools for people to better themselves. Medical diagnostic technology has improved leaps and bounds in the past twenty years alone. Being able to diagnose patients sooner means more cost effective treatment and more importantly a longer life span. Barriers to information have been drastically reduced, allowing more people around the world access to knowledge previously reserved for society's elite.
The thing is, it isn't the technology that is the problem, it's how people use it. Orwell's book was about people and society, not technology. If we think imposing restrictions on innovation will curb oppression, racism and corruption, we haven't learned much since the invention of the wheel.
Now, what was my phone number again... ?
Horrors, a generation deprived of the joy of memorizing complex numerical combinations. It's the end of civilization as we know it.
Okay, before you start digging your bunkers, a moment of clarity if I may. The household telephone has changed a lot over the years. It used to be bolted to a wall and connected to the phone company via a half inch thick cable. It had a rotary dial, which if you had to call someone who had a number with five nines in it, could easily cause a friction burn. The phone was made of the densest material available. In case of an emergency, the receiver could be used to break down a door or render an assailant unconscious. While practical, the old rotary phone could hardly be considered 'smart.'
Remembering phone numbers had nothing to do with superior mental skills, it was a matter of necessity. Do I miss having to remember everybody's phone number? No. On the best day I can barely remember my own. Besides, it's not like a device to record this information is a new idea. It used to be called the phone book.
Whenever a new technology hits the scene some people get all hot and bothered. As if every new development carries with it some jarring moral crisis. History's greatest innovations have always come at the expense of existing technologies yet somehow we all manage to survive and adapt.
"Fire, hmph, in my day we ate raw meat and froze to death, and we liked it."
I blame George Orwell for inciting the modern era's penchant for technophobia. Nineteen Eighty-Four, his dystopian romp about fascism gone wild, is the most often cited piece of literature when it comes to any new technology. Ever since the first computer got connected to another all we heard was: "Big Brother is watching."
Watching what, exactly? An unending stream of dirty jokes and promotions for Viagra? If we presume it is the government that is watching us, they are either not very observant or too lazy to do anything with the information. Besides, the government can't even keep track of tax dollars, let alone the population at large.
The current hot topic among the technophobe crowd is eBooks. These are books that can be read on your computer or portable reading device, such as Amazon's Kindle. eBooks will likely do to the bookstore what iTunes and MP3s have done to the record shop.
There is legitimate concern regarding the technology's economic impact as the publishing industry shifts from ink and paper to electronics. Conversely, digital print offers the benefit of vast libraries of easily obtainable information, in a lightweight and portable format. Compared to traditional print, this technology offers a significantly reduced environmental impact, not to mention easing the considerable burden on students who are often laden with heavy textbooks.
In the case of eBooks, the technological genie is out of the bottle. How industry responds is really a question of how well corporations have positioned themselves in anticipation of innovation. Businesses, like people, can't afford to assume nothing will ever change.
The goal of technology was never to make a better person, but rather to provide the tools for people to better themselves. Medical diagnostic technology has improved leaps and bounds in the past twenty years alone. Being able to diagnose patients sooner means more cost effective treatment and more importantly a longer life span. Barriers to information have been drastically reduced, allowing more people around the world access to knowledge previously reserved for society's elite.
The thing is, it isn't the technology that is the problem, it's how people use it. Orwell's book was about people and society, not technology. If we think imposing restrictions on innovation will curb oppression, racism and corruption, we haven't learned much since the invention of the wheel.
Now, what was my phone number again... ?
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Long Run
This is something of a first for me. I am making a public declaration of my pursuit of a healthier lifestyle. This is fancy talk for trying to lose weight and exercise more. Yeah, I know everybody wants to live better, but this is something of an imperative for me.
I don't like to make such public statements, it has never been my style. I don't think it serves any useful purpose to shout out bold resolutions, but this isn't a resolution. It's more like a confession. This has been a long and very personal struggle for me. The motivation for my candour is an attempt to help people understand, to relate to their own struggles and perhaps find some hope.
There are two reasons for wanting and needing to change my lifestyle.
The first is obvious. Being overweight, male and (dammit) middle-aged is tantamount to duck-taping a steak on my back and hopping into a shark tank. There is a history of high blood pressure in my family, which is something that will likely have to be treated with medication. Hypertension as the lab coat guys call it, is a leading cause of heart attack, stroke, renal failure and all kinds of other delightfully grim consequences. Thus far I've dealt with this knowledge by ignoring it through a process that involved esponging my mind with salty snacks and beer. While this technique may be soothing it turns out it has the opposite effect on the aforementioned risk factors.
I wouldn't go as far as to say I have an eating disorder, but there is a pattern to my eating habits that, to me, seems something of an obsession. I have always suspected that this was psychological. As noted in an earlier blog, over consumption of certain foods may actually lead to a form of dependency, similar to addiction. This is something I have not admitted to in the past. Even among the most enlightened thinkers, coming clean about any form of mental deficiency is often regarded as undermining the public's perception of your self control.
If food can be considered an addiction, it is one of the most difficult to overcome. A couple of years ago I saw a documentary program on obesity. A morbidly obese young man was in a desperate battle to lose over three hundred pounds. He said something that summed up the struggle of any person faced with an eating disorder. If you were a drug addict, it is possible to avoid the drug culture; if you were and alcoholic, you could avoid bars and the liquor store; but food is everywhere in this culture. Readily available, heavily advertised and often, for the least healthy foods, easily affordable.
While I don't face the struggles of that young man, nor those of anyone battling serious addictions, I do relate to his statement. For myself and many others there is no cure-all for maintaining a healthy weight, you can only manage the problem.
The second reason for pursuing a healthier lifestyle has to do with a personal passion that might surprise you. Many years ago, I had, for a time, gained control over my unhealthy tendencies. Through diet and exercise I lost sixty pounds. The weight loss alone did not provide any great epiphany, this came when I discovered I had a previously untapped passion for running.
For anyone who has led even a moderately sedentary life, the thought of running a kilometre, let alone five, is as appealing as root canal. Trying to understand a runner's perspective is equally baffling. The experience can be liberating, calming, even meditative. I know, it's messed up, but still true. One quality that I found most appealing was what I would describe as a sense of ownership. It was a recognition of the often unappreciated value of one's body and all of the remarkable capabilities it has.
Part of my goal is to get back to that place. I had kept up with my running for many years, but lately it has taken a back seat, or more accurately a sofa seat, to an unhealthy lifestyle. I realize I have a long way to go.
These reasons, however, are selfish ones. At the end of the day there is really only one motivation for treating my body with more respect. It is in the eyes of my young sons, incredible wife and all those who care and support me. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I owe it to them. Family and friends are among many amazingly rich gifts of this life and I would be a fool to squander them.
Besides, I have so many more useless blogs to clog up the net, and these suckers don't write themselves.
I promise not to bore you with progress reports or set backs, but I will apologize in advance for my crankiness.
I don't like to make such public statements, it has never been my style. I don't think it serves any useful purpose to shout out bold resolutions, but this isn't a resolution. It's more like a confession. This has been a long and very personal struggle for me. The motivation for my candour is an attempt to help people understand, to relate to their own struggles and perhaps find some hope.
There are two reasons for wanting and needing to change my lifestyle.
The first is obvious. Being overweight, male and (dammit) middle-aged is tantamount to duck-taping a steak on my back and hopping into a shark tank. There is a history of high blood pressure in my family, which is something that will likely have to be treated with medication. Hypertension as the lab coat guys call it, is a leading cause of heart attack, stroke, renal failure and all kinds of other delightfully grim consequences. Thus far I've dealt with this knowledge by ignoring it through a process that involved esponging my mind with salty snacks and beer. While this technique may be soothing it turns out it has the opposite effect on the aforementioned risk factors.
I wouldn't go as far as to say I have an eating disorder, but there is a pattern to my eating habits that, to me, seems something of an obsession. I have always suspected that this was psychological. As noted in an earlier blog, over consumption of certain foods may actually lead to a form of dependency, similar to addiction. This is something I have not admitted to in the past. Even among the most enlightened thinkers, coming clean about any form of mental deficiency is often regarded as undermining the public's perception of your self control.
If food can be considered an addiction, it is one of the most difficult to overcome. A couple of years ago I saw a documentary program on obesity. A morbidly obese young man was in a desperate battle to lose over three hundred pounds. He said something that summed up the struggle of any person faced with an eating disorder. If you were a drug addict, it is possible to avoid the drug culture; if you were and alcoholic, you could avoid bars and the liquor store; but food is everywhere in this culture. Readily available, heavily advertised and often, for the least healthy foods, easily affordable.
While I don't face the struggles of that young man, nor those of anyone battling serious addictions, I do relate to his statement. For myself and many others there is no cure-all for maintaining a healthy weight, you can only manage the problem.
The second reason for pursuing a healthier lifestyle has to do with a personal passion that might surprise you. Many years ago, I had, for a time, gained control over my unhealthy tendencies. Through diet and exercise I lost sixty pounds. The weight loss alone did not provide any great epiphany, this came when I discovered I had a previously untapped passion for running.
For anyone who has led even a moderately sedentary life, the thought of running a kilometre, let alone five, is as appealing as root canal. Trying to understand a runner's perspective is equally baffling. The experience can be liberating, calming, even meditative. I know, it's messed up, but still true. One quality that I found most appealing was what I would describe as a sense of ownership. It was a recognition of the often unappreciated value of one's body and all of the remarkable capabilities it has.
Part of my goal is to get back to that place. I had kept up with my running for many years, but lately it has taken a back seat, or more accurately a sofa seat, to an unhealthy lifestyle. I realize I have a long way to go.
These reasons, however, are selfish ones. At the end of the day there is really only one motivation for treating my body with more respect. It is in the eyes of my young sons, incredible wife and all those who care and support me. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I owe it to them. Family and friends are among many amazingly rich gifts of this life and I would be a fool to squander them.
Besides, I have so many more useless blogs to clog up the net, and these suckers don't write themselves.
I promise not to bore you with progress reports or set backs, but I will apologize in advance for my crankiness.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Tiger's Stripes
The much anticipated return of Tiger Woods to the game of golf seemed to have arrived with much less hoopla than expected. That is not to say that Woods' return was not newsworthy. It may have something to do with the fact that the manufacturers of hoopla were kept outside the gates. Augusta National is the Fort Knox of golf, keeping the riff-raff at an armoured arms-length.
I haven't spent too much blogging time devoted to Tiger Woods. This is in part because I'm not quite sure what to do with the whole issue. I am a fan of Tiger Woods the golfer. The first time I saw him play was during the defense of his US Amateur title. I had never watched an amateur golf tournament before (and actually not since) but I was immediately struck by Tiger's resolve, focus and skill. It was clear, even then, that Tiger was destined to turn the golfing world on its ear.
Did he ever.
A year after turning pro, Woods would win his first major tournament, the Masters. In the process he set twenty Masters records and tied six more. He was the youngest golfer to win the tournament at only 22, and the first African American to wear the green jacket. Golf would never be the same.
Since then, Woods has racked up 71 PGA Tour victories, 38 European tour victories, among others. Included in these wins, 14 majors and three career grand slams (winning all four majors).
Tiger Woods had come to personify excellence in sport. His public image was one of control and determination. He was comfortable with the camera. He was at ease with interviewers and would often flash that thousand watt smile to charm his audience.
Tiger Woods the person was, and still is, something of an enigma. As someone who followed his career on the course it was hard to know what went on in his personal life. We were somewhat familiar with his relationship to his parents, his father Earl in particular. His marriage to Elin Nordegren may have caught many by surprise. Woods had such a high profile it seemed hard to imagine he could be in a relationship without the whole world knowing. It certainly didn't strike many as being a great romantic affair. But what did we know? Woods kept a tight lid on everything to do with his personal life.
Did he ever.
The revelations of Woods' indiscretions are about as dizzying as his professional golf record. Less surprising now is why Tiger was so protective of his life off the fairways. What is not clear is how things got so horribly out of control.
I'm not going to be joining in a long line of Woods' apologists. His record-setting philandering will be something he and he alone will have to answer for. Nonetheless, there was something self-destructive about his behaviour. He admitted in his stilted press statement in February that he felt entitled to take and do whatever he wanted. For most of us with real-world everyday responsibilities such a statement could only be made by someone out of touch with reality.
The privilege of his position matched with unparalleled adoration from sports fans of all generations created the perfect storm. Tiger met every lofty expectation with spectacular poise and ability. It was almost as if he wasn't even human. Perhaps he even thought so himself. As the number of secretive affairs grew, Woods must have known he was in danger of undermining everything he had worked for. But he didn't stop, perhaps he couldn't stop. Each successfully hidden liaison only increased his insatiable appetite for more.
Some have been critical of Wood's mea culpa as being hollow, more a result of the fact that he got caught. Well, of course he had to come clean after being caught. Like anyone else who has engaged in self-destructive behaviour, eventually you are going to either hit rock bottom or be called out by your peers.
As Tiger returns to golf, I will be watching like many other fans. This time it will be different. Woods' challenge is much greater than what awaits him on the fairways and greens. He will also be accompanied by his personal demons on display for the world. Perhaps, for the first time, Tiger will understand that being human is not about being entitled and more about earning each and every step with humility.
Time will tell if I will ever become a fan of Tiger Woods the person.
I haven't spent too much blogging time devoted to Tiger Woods. This is in part because I'm not quite sure what to do with the whole issue. I am a fan of Tiger Woods the golfer. The first time I saw him play was during the defense of his US Amateur title. I had never watched an amateur golf tournament before (and actually not since) but I was immediately struck by Tiger's resolve, focus and skill. It was clear, even then, that Tiger was destined to turn the golfing world on its ear.
Did he ever.
A year after turning pro, Woods would win his first major tournament, the Masters. In the process he set twenty Masters records and tied six more. He was the youngest golfer to win the tournament at only 22, and the first African American to wear the green jacket. Golf would never be the same.
Since then, Woods has racked up 71 PGA Tour victories, 38 European tour victories, among others. Included in these wins, 14 majors and three career grand slams (winning all four majors).
Tiger Woods had come to personify excellence in sport. His public image was one of control and determination. He was comfortable with the camera. He was at ease with interviewers and would often flash that thousand watt smile to charm his audience.
Tiger Woods the person was, and still is, something of an enigma. As someone who followed his career on the course it was hard to know what went on in his personal life. We were somewhat familiar with his relationship to his parents, his father Earl in particular. His marriage to Elin Nordegren may have caught many by surprise. Woods had such a high profile it seemed hard to imagine he could be in a relationship without the whole world knowing. It certainly didn't strike many as being a great romantic affair. But what did we know? Woods kept a tight lid on everything to do with his personal life.
Did he ever.
The revelations of Woods' indiscretions are about as dizzying as his professional golf record. Less surprising now is why Tiger was so protective of his life off the fairways. What is not clear is how things got so horribly out of control.
I'm not going to be joining in a long line of Woods' apologists. His record-setting philandering will be something he and he alone will have to answer for. Nonetheless, there was something self-destructive about his behaviour. He admitted in his stilted press statement in February that he felt entitled to take and do whatever he wanted. For most of us with real-world everyday responsibilities such a statement could only be made by someone out of touch with reality.
The privilege of his position matched with unparalleled adoration from sports fans of all generations created the perfect storm. Tiger met every lofty expectation with spectacular poise and ability. It was almost as if he wasn't even human. Perhaps he even thought so himself. As the number of secretive affairs grew, Woods must have known he was in danger of undermining everything he had worked for. But he didn't stop, perhaps he couldn't stop. Each successfully hidden liaison only increased his insatiable appetite for more.
Some have been critical of Wood's mea culpa as being hollow, more a result of the fact that he got caught. Well, of course he had to come clean after being caught. Like anyone else who has engaged in self-destructive behaviour, eventually you are going to either hit rock bottom or be called out by your peers.
As Tiger returns to golf, I will be watching like many other fans. This time it will be different. Woods' challenge is much greater than what awaits him on the fairways and greens. He will also be accompanied by his personal demons on display for the world. Perhaps, for the first time, Tiger will understand that being human is not about being entitled and more about earning each and every step with humility.
Time will tell if I will ever become a fan of Tiger Woods the person.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Friday Time Waster Supreme Rides Again
Okay, it's a bit early, but with the long weekend it feels like a Friday. Apologies to those of you who don't have the day off, I'll be thinking of you on the terrasse.
* * *
Alexandre Bilodeau finally made it home to Rosemère this week. The town put on the dog for the first Canadian to win gold on home turf. In addition to being greeted by the usual suspects, politicians sidling up to the athlete to smirk for the cameras, Bilodeau received huge cheers from local kids. He was also joined by other hometown heroes, Sylvie Bernier and Gaétan Boucher (must be something in the water there). If that weren't enough, he was taken up in a helicopter with Hab's great Guy Lafleur to watch local children form Olympic rings in their schoolyard. He is also having a park named in his honour.
The kid is 22.
* * *
Jesse James meet Tiger Woods, Tiger Woods meet Jesse James.
* * *
For those of you still reeling from the Quebec government's new budget, A.K.A. the giant wallet Hoover, there is some good news. You're still not living in Toronto.
* * *
There is a rumour kicking around that the NHL is considering moving the money-losing Phoenix Coyotes to Winnipeg. That should read: BACK to Winnipeg, because that's where the team was yanked from in the first place. Talk about rising from the ashes.
Fans in the Peg are naturally ecstatic, but no one should get too optimistic. Evidently the Coyotes are in the process of renegotiating the lease with their venue, the unfortunately named Jobing.com arena. The rumour is likely being floated as a tool to get a favourable rate.
Wait a second, I thought the league banned blindside hits.
* * *
Raymond Bachand meet Jesse James, Jesse James meet Raymond Bachand.
* * *
I heard somebody complaining last week about a poster in their apartment building advising residents that the management would be dimming lobby and hallway lights for Earth Hour. The poster requested that residents also turn off lights to mark the occasion. The resident was upset that the building's management was somehow infringing on his rights. He was therefore going to turn on every light and appliance during Earth Hour as a sign of protest.
Maybe this isn't a rights issue, but rather the fact that he's a dick.
* * *
Health researchers revealed in a study this week that high fat foods such as bacon and cheesecake can actually be addictive. Evidently, regular consumption of these foods cause dopamine receptors in the brain to decrease. This creates a demand for larger quantities of the chemical to be released into the body, which occurs when eating the high fat foods.
Or something like that...I stopped paying attention at the thought of bacon cheesecake.
Happy Easter or Passover.
* * *
Alexandre Bilodeau finally made it home to Rosemère this week. The town put on the dog for the first Canadian to win gold on home turf. In addition to being greeted by the usual suspects, politicians sidling up to the athlete to smirk for the cameras, Bilodeau received huge cheers from local kids. He was also joined by other hometown heroes, Sylvie Bernier and Gaétan Boucher (must be something in the water there). If that weren't enough, he was taken up in a helicopter with Hab's great Guy Lafleur to watch local children form Olympic rings in their schoolyard. He is also having a park named in his honour.
The kid is 22.
* * *
Jesse James meet Tiger Woods, Tiger Woods meet Jesse James.
* * *
For those of you still reeling from the Quebec government's new budget, A.K.A. the giant wallet Hoover, there is some good news. You're still not living in Toronto.
* * *
There is a rumour kicking around that the NHL is considering moving the money-losing Phoenix Coyotes to Winnipeg. That should read: BACK to Winnipeg, because that's where the team was yanked from in the first place. Talk about rising from the ashes.
Fans in the Peg are naturally ecstatic, but no one should get too optimistic. Evidently the Coyotes are in the process of renegotiating the lease with their venue, the unfortunately named Jobing.com arena. The rumour is likely being floated as a tool to get a favourable rate.
Wait a second, I thought the league banned blindside hits.
* * *
Raymond Bachand meet Jesse James, Jesse James meet Raymond Bachand.
* * *
I heard somebody complaining last week about a poster in their apartment building advising residents that the management would be dimming lobby and hallway lights for Earth Hour. The poster requested that residents also turn off lights to mark the occasion. The resident was upset that the building's management was somehow infringing on his rights. He was therefore going to turn on every light and appliance during Earth Hour as a sign of protest.
Maybe this isn't a rights issue, but rather the fact that he's a dick.
* * *
Health researchers revealed in a study this week that high fat foods such as bacon and cheesecake can actually be addictive. Evidently, regular consumption of these foods cause dopamine receptors in the brain to decrease. This creates a demand for larger quantities of the chemical to be released into the body, which occurs when eating the high fat foods.
Or something like that...I stopped paying attention at the thought of bacon cheesecake.
Happy Easter or Passover.
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