Making It Up As I Go Along #669

December 22nd really doesn’t feel very Christmasy when you live alone and are about to start four days of work tomorrow… also alone.  I do have frozen turkey dinner from mom’s Thanksgiving visit that can get me through supper at work on Christmas Day.  But it truly is not the same.

Hopefully the weather holds for my flights on the 27th.  And mom and dad will enjoy two Christmas’s this year.

Speaking of Christmases, it recently struck me that I’ll likely not have another St. John’s family Christmas.  If all goes well, mom and dad’s condo will be ready here for next year and, although it hasn’t been seriously discussed, it’s likely they’ll be here for Christmas going forward.  I must say, it never dawned on me last year that that may be the last time I wake in the Wedgewood Park house on Christmas Day.

I also had forgotten how early I was home last Christmas.  Facebook reminded me with that whole memories to look back on feature.  I was home by mid December, giving lots of lead up for the holidays where I could shop downtown and get the family Christmas movie viewing in well before Christmas Day.  I think this year will have some post Christmas shopping… and some gifts have already been done.  It’s an odd Christmas to be sure.

But yes, starting next year, I should have parents nearby me again for up to half of the year.  Mom and dad have a condo going up that’s little more than a five minute walk away from me.  Summers here are hotter than mom likes, and the house back home isn’t going anywhere, so it’s likely that I’ll get more home cooked meals, games of cards, and company on walks in the late fall, most of winter and spring.

Saw Rogue One yesterday.  Really well done and I enjoyed it.  The one thing I did miss was the John Williams score through the movie.  Some of the music in this one sort of sounded like his music… but in a let’s-change-it-just-enough-not-to-get-in-legal-trouble type of way.  There were scenes where they used the classic Star Wars music, but the big orchestral sound was lacking through the majority of the movie, and I was wishing it was there.

That said, I enjoyed it about on the same level as last years Star Wars movie which would put both of them comfortably in the upper ranks for me… behind only A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back.

Speaking of the movies, yesterday also marked my finding out the perfect combo of food, through the day, to bring on the worst heartburn I’ve had in quite some time.  Buttered movie popcorn for lunch… a tuna fish sandwich with celery, pickles and mayo for supper… and by midnight, not even Tums can help.  Once 3:00 AM hit, I can only lay on my back, propped up with pillows.  Anything flat or on either side and it felt like acid all through my stomach.

Anyway, with that bit of cheeriness over, digestion took care of all that… and I’m fine now.  But it wasn’t a wonderful night of sleep.  Perhaps it was as simple as the Force not being with that movie cinema butter topping.

And speaking of food… and Christmas travel… I’m right in that in between time where I’m not sure what to do about groceries.  I think I’m going to try to shoot throw to Tuesday now.  Maybe break down for a small container of orange juice.  But I hate to have a bunch of stuff in the fridge for ten days while I’m away.  It all sounds like I’m leading up to a good feed of Chinese food either tonight or tomorrow.  And give me enough leftovers to shoot me through to my departure.  

Donald Trump wants to up the American’s nuclear power.  Oh yes, nothing to worry about there.  When it comes to military power, there is nobody more insecure in this world than the Americans.  This is a nation that has a military more or less equal to the next 25 to 30 countries put together… yet still you see politicians talking about needing to make their military strong again.  In Star Wars terms, America is the only country in the world that owns a Death Star… and yet there are American politicians claiming they need a second one.

I live next to Homer Simpson.  Now… it’s almost a literal thing.  There is a Simpson’s episode where Homer’s neighbour is trying to sell her house.  She goes to Homer and asks him to throw away his old Halloween Jack-o-Laterns from years gone by (there are like five or six of them sitting on his front step, one looking more mummy like and rotten than the next).

Well my neighbour has begun the tradition.  I can’t see it now due to the snow, but underneath the wintery blanket, on his front step, you can see a mound.  That mound is Jack-o-Latern number one in what promises to be a long line of Jack-o-Laterns.

Truth be told, it was already looking pretty rotten by the time Halloween even came about.  I think he had it out on his step by Thanksgiving.  And there it remains, surrounded by a few loose boards, his daughter’s bicycle, and an old coleman camping cooler that, as best as I can tell, has called that front step home for the past three years.

My goodness, this means I’m Ned Flanders!  The guy even once borrowed something from me (a can of wasp killer) and never did give it back.  Dude also once borrowed my driveway, of all things.  He never asked to, mind you.  He just happened to see me leaving for a trip home one summer and asked how long I’ll be gone.  Three weeks must have felt like a goldmine for him… so much so that he lost track of time.

I got home one night around supper time and didn’t go to leave the house again until the next morning.  But when that morning came, I looked out to see his car sitting in the middle of my driveway, blocking my vehicle in the garage.  He didn’t even seem all that embarrassed by it when I knocked on his door to come move the thing.  Instead I think he just questioned me about my travel times… “It hasn’t been three weeks already has it?”

Anyway, that’s about it for this ramble.  Four days of work and then it’s home for eleven.  So this may be my last writing of 2016.  And despite the missing out on the actual holidays, I’m expecting a good time home with family and friends.  So it won’t be all bad to be sure.

Making It Up As I Go Along #668

I’m thinking, more and more, that America… and the rest of us… may really be in trouble with Trump.  I mean there’s been lots of alarmist talk for a while now.  And people are so regularly using alarmist jargon in much of life that you become desensitized to it.  But this may be legit.

The people Trump has selected to work with… his lack of accountability to… the conflict of interest in his businesses and holding the office of President.  Talking about not needing daily security briefings because he’s smart.  Either Mike Pence is going to be the unofficial president (meaning Americans give the presidency to a man who was never officially on the ballot to become president) or Trump is about to run a gong show.  But at least he has time for Kanye West… and at least the news media feel a Kanye/Trump photo op is real news (breaking away from other items to let us see them in the lobby of Trump Tower).  It’s a real mess.

Christmas came early.  I came home from work one day last week and there’s a package at my door.  No labels on it, other than my name, so I decide to open the box… and inside… the Atari Flashback 7 I spoke of last blog entry.  Since it wasn’t wrapped I figured I may as well go for it now.  Thanks Sissy… I’m a kid again.


Dentist Horrors

When I was a kid, I didn’t mind going to the dentist.  There was the rubber brush that spun around and tickled your teeth.  I had an impression  of my teeth done that I thought was the neatest thing.  Bubble gum tasting fluoride.  All no problem.

Even when I went to get my wisdom teeth pulled from my jaw… where they had to slice open my gums to find them down there… I wasn’t all that worried about it.

Then I went years with no dentist at all.  When my parents insurance never covered me and my work had no dental plans included, I went about a decade in a dentist free world.  And nothing went wrong.  Not a toothache.  Not a red gum.  Not even a scrap of food stuck between my teeth.

With the move to Ottawa came a new job with dental coverage included.  I figured “I may as well.” And I’ve been a regular dentist goer for almost fourteen years now.

And within those fourteen years, I’ve developed a fear.  An irrational, but very real fear… of the dentist!

The first time wasn’t a problem.  The dentist was actually shocked I’d gone so long without seeing anyone.  My teeth were great.  Even the cleaning didn’t find too much plaque buildup.  It was easy.

But as time has gone on, things have slowly crept into the land of the uncomfortable.  First there was a filling or two.  No big deal.  And they went without a hitch.

But suddenly, food was fighting back.  Twice I’ve chipped teeth while eating.  Once it was just biting into a fig bar.  Then the freezing agent used for my fillings became less effective for me.  Two fillings ago, it took almost an hour to get the job done.  He’d start work and, within five to ten minutes, the freeze would wear off.

This is where the fear began.  To have a dentist in your mouth, drilling into the hardest bones of your body… and suddenly you begin to feel it!

It got to a point where I’d be expecting pain.  Tensed for it… my body a wooden plank stretched out straight across the gentle caress of the dentist chair.  Only my head and feet touching chair… all the rest of me being stiff and raised several feet off of the cushioned faux leather.

Even a squirt of water into the freshly drilled cavernous hole would cause my arms to tense… my shoulders being able to plug my ears… while my fingers dug deep into the arm rests.

My last cavity, they gave me the heavy duty stuff.  The freeze that’s meant for root canals… that’s what it takes to fill a little cavity for me now.  And even with half my jaw being frozen for the rest of the day, I remain tensed in the chair… ready for every touch to be that one that breaks through the freeze… causing the pain to fire through my body.  As with any good horror movie… it’s the anticipation that’s the worst part.

Today, the sun is shining.  The snow in the woods across the street glimmers brightly… giving the world a wintery glow.  And yet dread lurks.  I have a dentist appointment.

It’s just a cleaning.  No drills should find my mouth today.  But even the cleanings have become torturous.  Diamond lined floss slices open my gums… sawing deep into the crevices of my teeth… down into the jawbone until it finds the empty spaces… where once my wisdom teeth lived.

At least that’s how my mind plays out the experience.  Long gone is the bubble gum fluoride.  Mocking is the ticklish rubber brush.  It just laughs at me in the knowledge of what is soon to come.  The picks and axes and spears all lined up to probe my gum line.  And the potential for a cavity to be found.  Bringing the anticipation of another appointment of dread.  Booked by pleasant, friendly smiles at the reception desk, as she wishes me a Merry Christmas while penciling me in for another appointment… with the dreaded drill of doom.  Merry Christmas indeed.  

Making It Up As I Go Along #667

Was at the movies this week and saw plenty of Star Wars stuff around the cinema.  One thing I’ve never understood with Star Wars.  Being a franchise that has capitalized on every type of money maker one could think of, why do they not re-release the old movies on big screen on a yearly basis?  I, for one, would go to see any of the Star Wars movies (with the possible exception of episode 2) any time they would be available at the cinema.  There is no better way to watch Star Wars than on big screen with surround sound.  So if, for example, episode 8 is being released a year from this coming May, then release each of the previous seven episodes… and even this Rogue 1 spinoff (so a total of eight movies) in March.  One per week for the eight weeks prior to episode 8.  Seems, to me, like easy money for Disney.

Shovelled the driveway for the first time of the year, today.  Fairly easy go of it but a sign I may have to have a word with the new neighbours.  The previous neighbours were good enough to not throw snow on my side of their driveway.  Seeing as I share my driveway with another, I only really have one side I can throw snow… and by winter’s end, that’s even getting to be too much and simply begins to slide down into the other driveway.  If those new neighbours decide to share my six foot strip of lawn as a landing spot for snow, I’m really going to run out of room fast.

Anyone who believes in that silly old “war on Christmas” has never stepped foot in my office building.  A government building at that.  Last week they used part of a day to decorate everything… and, in some cases, I literally mean everything.  There is one department that has even gift wrapped their filing cabinets.  I don’t know what normally goes in there… but it’s sealed until the New Year.  There was also a gingerbread house building competition and a Christmas party… a Christmas luncheon is this week and the social club will have draws for gifts on the last day before the majority of everyone goes home for the holidays.

All this… and yet somehow there is a group of Christians that feel their belief in Christmas is under attack.  They’ll get all bent out of shape because they’ll hear someone say “happy holidays” instead of “merry Christmas”.  Suddenly they’ll claim to be somehow persecuted… likely making said claim as they wander through a red and green decorated mall… with piped in Christmas music in the background… as they search for the best Christmas blowout deals.  

So let it be known, my office is doing a fine job in maintaining your Christmas cheer.  Christmas is not endangered.  So save your anger for something that’s much less imaginary than your War on Christmas.

How much more do I now like baseball compared to hockey?  Here we are in winter… with snow on the ground and ice forming on ponds.  With hockey games on TV virtually every night.  I can even put a game on my iPad if I want to.

Yet I’ve likely sat down to watch a grand total of three hockey games on TV… all season… since mid October.  And that isn’t saying on this day I watched this game, and on that day I watched this other one.  I mean I watched the third period of a game here… and the first ten minutes of the first period of a game there.

But right now, baseball is having its winter meetings and I find myself watching three or four hours of coverage of those meetings each day.  I’m checking twitter regularly to see what baseball rumours are coming up now.  And I’m going for walks mulling over how the Blue Jays should best spend their money.  What free agents to go after… how much money they should be willing to go for those free agents… what trades they could possibly make.

In short, I’m sad to see Edwin Encarnacion go… but it’s probably a good thing in order to let the team increase depth and diversity of players.  Signing Morales was a good financial move but I’m not thrilled with having a full time DH.  On a veteran team, I’d rather see the DH slot open for the fielders to slide in to in order to get half days off.  And I want them to get Dexter Fowler signed.  I’m only ok with no Edwin as long as Fowler is there to take his place.  The need the outfielder/switch hitting/lead off man more than the power hitting 1st baseman/DH type.  Plus I’m still quite open to Jose Bautista coming back… as a left fielder who also gets about forty games in at 1st base.  But for only one or two years on a contract… and for no more than $18 million per year.  And, that all said, I doubt Bautista would do that.  So both he and Edwin will be gone… and as long as Fowler comes in, the team may very well be all the better for it.

Man, there’s so much money in baseball.  When you talk about signing a player for less than $20 million per year as if that’s a good budget move.

Getting a few snow walks in lately.  It really helps you see what kind of wildlife is still around, despite all the construction that’s been going on.  I see rabbit tracks every day.  I see the trails and remnants of beaver handiwork.  And I’m still seeing occasional coyote tracks.  It’s a whole other world going on just outside my window.

Making It Up As I Go Along #666

Saturday night was a combo of movies and TV for me. And a few thoughts came through in the watching. 

Star Wars: The Phantom Menace really isn't very good. I've always said it's not as bad as people have said, but maybe Saturday was the watching that finally put it in my negative view. The kid is a horrible actor. Jar Jar is the tragic comical character that isn't funny. Several of the aliens just seem like people in Halloween suits. What still stands out as great, for me, is the pod race through the desert (minus the two headed alien commentator). The rest of the movie is rather annoying. 

After watching three episodes of the Discovery Network’s show, Frontier, I've come to the conclusion that it's a fairly unoriginal, average show. It's like someone stole the scripts for the pirate show, Black Sails, or the period spy show, Turn and decided to rework them into the fur trade. Half the cast really aren't all that good at acting and the writing is mediocre. I've enjoyed moments of the show. I like guessing which scenes were filmed in Newfoundland and, when there's action, it's a bit of fun. But as soon as people spend more than two minutes talking to each other, the writing just really brings it down. 

Besides tv, I'm of two minds of the reactions to Fidel Castro’s death. I see Trudeau got some backlash for his complimentary and kind words for Castro. And I saw plenty on Twitter speaking of the hardships he brought on the Cuban people. 

But at the same time, Cuba and Canada have always had a kind of unique relationship where things were always relatively friendly. Canadians are often going to Cuba for vacations and several of our political leaders had a fairly close rapport with Castro himself. 

Bottom line, I think the day a 90 year old sick man dies is not the time to go about lambasting him. In reality, Castro has been irrelevant to Cuba for quite a while now. His death doesn't suddenly bring great change to the nation. Sure, in the coming months, go ahead and be critical of him. Let history speak for itself. But immediately after his death, such criticism just seems cruel and in bad taste. And it's definitely not the right way to go if the western world really wants to bring Cuba into a more free political era. After all, it is still a Castro in power. Badmouthing his brother is likely not the best first step of that new era. 

Nostalgia

How much is too much?

I’ve found myself becoming more drawn to the old.  TV shows, old games… old memories.

A few weeks ago, I was delighted to watch a few episodes of Three’s Company.  

In the movie, A Christmas Story, Ralphie Parker’s greatest Christmas gift is a Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle with a compass in the stock and "this thing which tells time”.  Well my greatest childhood Christmas gift was a video game.  Tandy’s Cosmic 1000 Fire Away game. 

I still have my Fire Away. But it doesn’t work any longer.  But at about the same time as I was sitting in front of the tube, engrossed in my Three’s Company watching, I found that my greatest Christmas gift is now in App version.  Of course I paid the few bucks to own it again.  And I can return to my Red Rider BB gun days by simply picking up my iPad or phone.

And now, in my surfing around the internet, I’ve found that Atari has an all in one console… with 101 games built in… and I’m tempted to ask for this for Christmas! (Santa… that’s the Atari Flashback 7… available at Amazon but also at Urban Outfitters Canada for around $25 less!).

I mean I have a PlayStation 3 with several games… and I haven’t played any of them for the last five years.  But the thought of returning to the days of playing Jungle Hunt, Asteroids, Frogger and Yar’s Revenge… all in 8 pixel, 1980s glory… well it all makes me long for the days gone by, that’s for sure.

Perhaps this is something that comes naturally with age.  I mean my father can clearly tell me stories of some seventy years ago… where you can tell that every image, every texture, and every smell is crystal clear.  

And I’ve always been a nostalgic person.  There isn’t much from my past that’s been thrown away.  Every ball glove I’ve used.  Every action figure and teddy bear.  Cases and boxes of dinkies.  They’re all somewhere either in my Ottawa home or my parents St. John’s one.  And I do already own DVDs of WKRP in Cincinnati, Gilligan’s Island, and Monty Python’s Flying Circus.  And most of the music I buy is now in vinyl record form rather than download or CD (though the perfect is the vinyl with a digital download included, so the music can still get onto my phone).

But I wonder if I'm sliding deeper into the memories of decades past.  Has the cold and confrontational world we live in drawn me back to simpler times?  Could terrorists be the reason I was happy to sit with Three’s Company?  Could Donald Trump be the key to my Atari desires? Or is this all a natural form of aging?  

I suppose I’ll know it’s a real problem if I find myself on Amazon, searching for pacifiers… or begin to consider giving up my current bed for something more along the lines of 1970s bunk beds.  

Until then, I’ll return to Atari dreams, and clue this up for a session of iPad Fire Away.   

Making It Up As I Go Along #665

President Trump.  It’s still hard to believe that this is about to happen.  Already hearing about gay and minority people getting threatened by white guys who justify it with Trump’s presidency.  This may get rough.

I think this may all be happening as a backlash.  I think, in the Western World, white men have been told to give things up for much of the past twenty years.  White men have had the advantages in life for a long time.  Job opportunities, political say… basically running things.  And, for years now, we’ve been told women need more say and opportunity.  And racial minorities also need more.  I’m not saying these changes were wrong or unjustified.  I think it’s right.  But I can also see where the frustration would come from.  To see your father or grandfather have so many advantages in life… and to not share in such advantages.  That you didn’t do anything personally to lose out… but politicians have dictated that those advantages will no longer be there.  It’s not surprising that there’d be resentment towards that.  And if there’s a politician speaking about “making America great again” or “bringing back jobs”.  It could be a ray of hope for those people with all that resentment in them.

I don’t agree with any of this, mind you.  I think equal opportunities should be available and that it’s completely wrong to make a scape goat out of particular cultures, sex, or other demographic.  I think Trump is an ego maniac bordering on being a psychopath.  But I do think that this is all the reasoning why he ended up winning this election.  He spoke to a large, powerful demographic that, for the last twenty years, has been feeling hard done by.

On today’s walk, I’ve found the signs that, despite all the construction around my wooded area, the wildlife is still there.  Today I found deer tracks… coyote tracks and poop… and fresh stumps that are the result of beaver deforestation.  It made me smile.


Looking for some simple nostalgia after the US Election, the next day I watched back to back episodes of Three’s Company followed by a couple of old, favourite movies.  The Three’s Company really hit he spot.  It’s the first time I’ve watched any of that show for probably twenty years.  Some of it would never make it to TV today.  One episode had a rich man harassing Cindy (the second of the three blondes that lived with Janet and Jack).  He wouldn’t listen to her clear, negative responses to his advances.  Even both Jack and Janet were swayed to let Cindy marry the man because Jack would become a rich head chef at multiple, international restaurants and Janet would be given a flower shop to own.  Yes, today such subjects wouldn’t make it to sitcom TV.  It would be sexual harassment for certain.  The odd thing is that subjects that are now taboo on sitcoms still qualify you to be president of the most powerful nation on earth.  Hmm.

Still, all that aside, Three’s Company just reminded me of simpler times.  A small, simple apartment.  No cell phones.  No internet.  People drop by and ring the doorbell.  The phone rings and it’s a real person… that you know… on the other end of the line.  And it was a simpler time for me when I was originally watching the show.  First, when it was still airing new… watching it in the evenings laying on the floor in front of the TV.  And later, when reruns would come on around supper time… meals would be eaten in front of the TV with a smile on the face and worries far away.

Making It Up As I Go Along #664

So approximately 47 million people, in the US and Canada combined, watched the Cubs win the World Series.  I was kind of torn watching it.  I’m not a Cubs fan.  In fact there are three or four players on that team that I outright don’t like… while there was nobody I Cleveland I didn’t like, and several that I really wish were on my team… But it’s been 108 years for the poor ol’ Cubs and you’d need a heart of stone not to feel good for them.  So many stories around the fans of that team.  Especially the man in his late fifties who promised his now deceased father that they’d be together to see the Cubs win.  So this man took a radio and sat at his father’s grave to take in the game.  And it was quite a game to watch.  Good playoff baseball is as good as sports get.

I think it’s been the first time since I’ve moved to Ottawa that I was able to wear a pair of shorts in November.  Felt like 21 on November 2nd.  Hard to beat that.

An odd North American thing… or, at least odd to me… is how preoccupied we are about where we’re from.  That’s not to say that I find history and genealogy boring.  I’ve heard stories of my family background where I’d think “hmm, that’s kind of neat if it’s true”.  But we, in North America, are always trying to proudly state how we’re Irish or Italian or Greek… or whatever other nationality.  But the connection likely goes back hundreds of years.  At what point do you call yourself Canadian instead of Irish? It seems that the English are about the only ones who don’t do this.  Nobody in North America proudly say that “I’m English!”  It would simply confuse others as they’d ask if you’re from London and wonder what happened to your accent.

Writers Block
Keyboard clacking
Unknown words
Clacked in hope
That one of these words
Will inspire breakthrough
Clearing cobwebs
Burn the fog
Release the mind

But the mundane wins
A wall crawling bug
Carried out doors
Thoughts of the fridge
As evening nears
A sun beam
Interrupted
By shadow branches
Blown by winds
That lingers silent
Outside my window  

Making It Up As I Go Along #663

So looking for flights home for Christmas… well… Christmas-ish.  Trying to fly home December 27th and things are not looking great.  I can basically either go through Toronto at 5:30 in the morning… or through Halifax and not getting in until around 11:00 at night.  No direct flights to be had.  I feel like I’m trying to book a flight to the arctic rather than St. John’s.

Oddly liking the colder weather these days.  Great for sleeping and I’ve liked bundling up for afternoon walks.  I’m sure, in a few more months, I’ll be missing summer temps.  But for now, seeing the temperatures hanging close to freezing has been refreshing.  I guess I should shake a leg on the snow tires though.

The New Path
It is subtle
Almost invisible
Obscured by snowy leaves
Gently falling
Burying the land
In papery yellow and orange

But it’s there
The construction detour
A new path
Carved by woods lovers tracks
Who will not be deterred
We frontier squirrel lands

It brings a new look to old woods
Newly explored rolling mounds
A fallen tree fence
Laying mossy and squirrel tracked
Bringing me past a laddered platform
Built years before
Of fallen stripped branches
And rusty nails
Hidden from my daily visits
Until construction forced this detour
Leaving me pondering
The supernatural witch
Who built this mystery
So hidden nearby my home.

Making It Up As I Go Along #662

So it’s been about five weeks since I added to the blog.  I think this is the longest I’ve gone between posts since I started doing it, fourteen years ago.

I’ve gotten to a point where if it’s outside of my routine, I generally don’t write.  And the routine has been a bit all over the place lately.  Since September 9th, when I last posted, I went to work… then on the first day off, flew to Newfoundland.  Was home for around twelve days.  Went straight back to work the day after getting back to town.  Then on my next round of days off, mom and dad arrived here.  I was then back to work again the day after they left.

So today is the first “routine last day of my four days off before going back to work tomorrow.”  In other words, it’s my first time since September 9th, when I’d normally be sitting down to write.

Lots has happened since my last posting.  Today I’m writing from my computer room.  Sitting on my patio furniture, looking out at the yellow and red of the forest across the street.

I should explain that my patio furniture is an indoor/outdoor wicker set that, when the summer fades away, I set up in my mostly empty computer room.  It makes it a nice little winter sitting room… and it saves the furniture from the winter elements.

So I’m writing in a solid Autumn frame of mind.  Summer is in the rear view mirror.  Winter is just around the bend.  Spring is right out! (A play off Python there… oh goodness it’s been a while).

The Blue Jays are in the playoffs.  Barely.  They barely made it in.  They’re barely still alive.  But they are now by far my favourite sports team to watch.  It’ll be sad whenever it’s over.  Knowing that quite a few of the players won’t be back next year.  I’m especially torn about Bautista.  I don’t want to see him play for another team.  It feels like he should always be a Blue Jay.  But it also feels like he’s now a DH at best… and maybe a guy who should be coming off the bench fifty games a year while DH’ing the rest.  Part of me wishes the Jays would storm back, win it all, and Bautista decides that there’s no better way to go out than on a championship.

But I know the Bautista retirement is likely not going to happen.  And he’ll probably be a DH in Houston or Boston or somewhere else that’ll just look wrong to see.

The US election is nearing it’s end.  Trump is just… not worth talking about anymore.  I know Hillary isn’t a likeable person.  I don’t much like her myself.  There’s nothing very inspiring about her and she does have an air of that stereotypical, unlikeable politician you see in the movies.  But she knows politics.  She takes it seriously.  She’s intelligent.  And she has discipline.  Trump is a spoiled egotist who gets mad and spiteful when he’s not worshipped.

I cleaned out my facebook and feel all the better for it.  That is to say, I removed one person.  I had been unsubscribed from them for a while but would still go to their page to see what kind of silliness they were getting on with.  Racism, sexism, anger, resentment… it was all there.  I tried to reason for a while… then argue.  In the end I wouldn’t do anything but view and shake my head.  So I decided, why bother at all.  Unfriended, blocked, all gone.  Life feels more hopeful when you don’t always see the venom.

Actually, I also had to unfollow the Snopes facebook page, for the same reason.  Even though that site would be debunking the crazy thoughts that float around out there, I just thought to myself “I don’t need to see how much crazy is going on.”  Some may say it’s me burying my head in the sand.  But it isn’t.  I know the nutty things that some people believe.  I see plenty of it both at work and on the news.  Twitter still links me to many wild stories.  I just decided I don’t need to be saturated by it.  And I’m all the better for it.

I think I’ve gotten a sign that the Blue Jays will not complete the comeback against Cleveland.  As I was writing, an actual Blue Jay landed on the tree across the road.  I decided to go get the camera.  When I returned… he was gone.  So close… so close.

This past week I heard that scientist now believe dinosaurs may not have roared.  The sounds they made may be more duck like.  I’ll never be able to watch a Jurassic Park or dinosaur documentary again.  Ah scientists… sometimes I think you’re such quacks.

My body is pretty solidly back into shift work mode (and side note… I just wrote shift without the “f”, by accident.  Had I not caught it, this entire paragraph would have taken a different light).  I actually feel fresher now than I had the last few months of working a five day week.  My pre nights naps are refreshing.  I sleep seven or eight hours on my days off… waking when the eyes pop open rather than by way of alarm.  I know shift work shouldn’t go on for a long time.  I figure I’ll be ready to switch off of it again within five years.  But, right now, it’s the shift for me.

And with that, I think it’s time for a nice Fall walk in the woods.  I’ll bring along the camera… and hope to capture that Blue Jay… and remove the curse before the baseball game comes on this afternoon.

 

Making It Up As I Go Along #661

So virtually nothing worth mentioning has happened to me over the last week.  In fact, since coming home from night shift last Tuesday morning, the car has not left my driveway.  I guess it should leave at some point today as the low fuel light was on when I parked it last.  Though there's likely enough in the tank to be able to fill up after work tomorrow.

But that’s about it… Low fuel in the car.  Otherwise, I’ve caught up on some TV.  Gone for some walks.  Hung around the house.  Not much else.

I have thought that the world of technology has gone quite mad.  Apple announces the new iPhone 7 and removes the headphone jack.  So now you either need Bluetooth headphones or a thing-a-ma-jig to act as a go between with your headphones and your phones charger port.  And when they announce this, they actually straight faced talk about how this is a sign of courage on Apple’s part.  

All this has done is make me not want to upgrade my phone.  Was there really a major problem with having a headphone jack?  Was this a problem customers were complaining about over the years?  “Man, I wish I didn’t have this bloody headphone jack!”  No, it’s dumb and seems more like a sign of a desire to be able to charge people for connection accessories or new ear buds.  At no point did I think of it as courageous.  

Businesses often do this kind of thing.  Present the customer with something new in a light that makes it seem as though the customer actually wanted this.  When, in fact, all it has done is make things better for the business itself.  Like grocery store self checkouts.  They talk about this as if it’s the greatest thing you could imagine.  But it’s really just a sort of fantasy camp for adults who never got a chance to work the cash at a grocery store before.  That’s a fantasy camp I, for one, have never fantasized about.  Maybe if the store gave customers a 20% discount on anything you purchase through the self serve.  But giving me the privilege of checking through my own groceries… Scanning barcodes and the like… So that I can still pay them full price?!?!  Forget that.  I’d rather line up at a checkout manned with a store employee than walk up to an empty self serve machine.  

And speaking of businesses.  If I am at a restaurant or waiting to board your plane and you talk to me using the term “guest” instead of “customer”… I’m going to assume your service is coming to me free of charge.  Guests don’t pay.  Honestly, customer should not be seen as some sort of bad word by these companies.  I am not your guest.  I’m your customer and I expect a certain level of service out of you.  

Businesses do this stuff so gradually, you hardly notice.  Airlines used to allow free luggage check in.  Free meals… Actual meals… That you looked forward to eating. They offered amazing things like… Leg room!  Like really, soon the last three rows on a plane will be so tightly packed together that you’ll have to sit in your seat cross legged as if it’s a yoga position.  Now they’ll charge you $10 for a sub sandwich which is actually just a dinner role with some lettuce, cheese and meat packed in it three days ago.  At this rate, a decade from now, plane travel will be like subway commuting.  No seats… Just hand holds coming down from the ceiling.  

One business that has successfully integrated using the customer as the service provider is the gas station.  Of course, they call it a “Service Station”.  A cruel joke on us “guests” as we are the actual ones performing the service that we’re paying for.  Get out of the car… Pump your own gas… Clean your own windshield… If you aren’t paying at the pump you have to walk over to the station and line up behind scratch ticket players (because every time I actually walk into a service station there’s someone stood at the cash buying, scratching, and talking to the cashier about scratch cards and the strategies to successfully scratch a winner) pay… Walk back to your car… Endure the evil stares of awaiting gas pumpers who simply can not believe that you didn’t simply pay at the pump, like civilized people… Then drive away in shame.  

It wasn’t all that long ago that for an extra $0.05 a litre, you could get full service.  Just drive up and tell them how much of what grade of gas you’d like and then sit back and be gas station pampered.  Windshield cleaned… Oil checked… Cash transaction done right there (either with actual money or the little clip board where you could sign or credit card receipt like some millionaire that just completed the paperwork on some multimillion dollar merger).  All this and you didn’t even need to unclip your seat belt.  

Sure there was a time when there wasn’t even such a thing as self service.  You wanted gas, and it was like you drove in to pit row at the Indy 500.  A team of employees would swarm your car, fill you up, and worship the ground you walked on… All just an expected part of the motoring experience.    

But that’s all another world.  Where you were a customer and that meant being treating like royalty.  In today’s world, you’re a guest that’s treated like a temporary intern.  I think the next time someone invites me to their house as their guest, I’ll expect that means they’ll want me to do some vacuuming, or dishes.  In 2016, that’s what being a guest is all about.

Making It Up As I Go Along #660

I think it’s the afternoons that are meant for single people at the movies.  I went to Star Trek yesterday afternoon… One of about a dozen in the cinema.  It felt more like those that came in pairs were the outsiders this time around.  That said, one of the people at the movie had a cold or allergies.  He or she was blowing their nose every two to three minutes.  That isn’t an exaggeration either.  And when they weren’t blowing, they were snorting.  Lovely stuff.

Watched some Trump coverage last night.  He is not to get the full blame for the stupidity.  The fact that the media cover him with respect is a big problem as well.  I mean they spent at least a half an hour debating the wall he promises.  Will Mexico pay for it?  How much will it cost?  How big will it be?  I’m no engineer… Nor am I an expert on the Mexican economy… But even I know that Trump’s wall simply won’t be built.  And Mexico will not have anything to do with the subject.  I wish the media would just state facts.  And I wish there weren’t millions of people going around believing the garbage.  And also, you keep hearing the media talk about Trump’s tone… And that perhaps he’ll soften his tone next speech and so forth.  At this point, what would that matter?  Are people supposed to be so gullible to suddenly think a softer tone will make Donald Trump a reasonable man?  “Oh… Look he made sense now and didn’t seem so harsh… He’s fit to be president after all.”  

I have new neighbours and at least one of them likes the piano.  It seems a piano against the wall closest to me will allow me to hear said piano from either of my three floors.  Including a little listening party at 1:15 in the morning.  Hopefully the late night piano playing is not a regular occurrence.  I still haven’t met the newbies.  Haven’t seen them outside the house at all.  I may have to go ring the doorbell one day if this keeps going.  

Fall is getting close.  It dropped to around ten degrees last night.  The coolness is returning to the land.  I’m actually to a point where I’m ready for it.  Some yellow jackets (a type of hornet) have begun nesting in the siding of the house out back.  Since it’s actually in the siding, I don’t think there’s much I can do without either buying a wet vac and sucking them out (which I have seen as an option via YouTube) or to call someone in.  But I read that if they don’t bother you and you aren’t bothering them, leave things alone and they’ll all die off after the first cold snap anyway.  So I’m left thinking a night of -5 degrees wouldn’t be so bad right now.  Anyway, they don’t stop me from going out back… But I do find I keep an eye on them when I’m out there now and so I’m not really terribly relaxed in my own backyard.  

Where’d the Robins go?

Where’d the Robins go?

They run the neighbour each Spring.

Hunting upon my lawn

Nesting among our homes

Patrolling fence tops

Spotting food from up on high

And on high alert for intruders.

But now they’re gone.

Young all raised and nest left

But where’d they go?

A population evacuated

Trees left ghost nested

Moths flutter a little easier

Worms venture out to the morning dew.

I’ve never heard of their migration.

Discovery doesn’t flicker the story

Telling lazy sofa dwellers

About the Mass Robin Exodus

There is no V formation of Robins

No tales of invading hoards

Taking over Carolina lawns.

So where did the Robins go?

I’ll spot reminders of them soon

Clomping across the snow

I’ll find bare nests 

Upon skeletal trees

And smile as I ponder

Their perturbed chirps

As they glower at me from fence posts

Urging me to leave

My own backyard.

Making It Up As I Go Along #659

Well last week’s blog got preempted by the Olympics.  I was surprised with how much of the games I ended up watching.  I had no interest going in, but once things started up, I found myself curious at first… And then drawn in as time went on.  Well, drawn in with limits.  I got sick to death of beach volleyball.  That seemed to be the always constant of the games.  And I ignored the opening and closing ceremonies.  I just couldn’t be bothered with them.  I also wasn’t a big fan of how the games were televised.  It just felt to me as if the TV was little more than advertising for how you can watch the events via live streaming.  There was more time spent giving us background on people and updates on where you can go to see this or that (be it what TV channel or what was available via apps) then there was spent on the actual events.  In the end, I more or less stuck to CBC and ignored the Sportsnet and TSN coverage.  It was just easier that way.  

Speaking of sporting events, Sportsnet is ramping up the advertising for the upcoming World Cup of hockey.  I simply couldn’t care less about it.  It’s a money grab by the NHL and its players association.  Twice before they’ve started up a World Cup, proclaiming how it’ll be a regular event and be the grand showcase of hockey.  And twice before it fell by the wayside.  A once a decade World Cup isn’t worth my time.  This is just them looking for a cash cow so that they can pull the NHL out of Olympic hockey.  I hope the final is the North American Young Guns (so stupid) vs the Rest of Europe (so very stupid) and nobody tunes in to watch.  

A few blocks into my CPSIC return and it’s been going pretty smoothly on my body.  I got used to the overnights again pretty quickly and the afternoon naps before those overnight shifts have been easy enough.  I think my favourite part of being on the shift is how little I need to use an alarm to get up out of bed.  Six out of eight days, I can just get up when I wake naturally.  I can ease into the day.  It’s so much better than going to bed knowing you must be up within six hours… Or five hours… Or whatever the number is as you lay in bed, hoping to soon fall asleep.

In exactly three weeks… From this very minute… I should be in the air somewhere near Montreal.  I’m heading home again for the annual September trip.  And this year there’ll even be a few days camping in Terra Nova Park.  Haven’t done that in more than twenty years.  I’ve come to really enjoy the September trips home.  The city is running normally then.  Not as touristy as a summer trip home.  The weather is still usually pretty nice and it’s just generally a nice, relaxing time.  I’ll probably be exhausted at the start of this trip.  My flight is just before 10:00 in the morning and I work the night shift the night before.  I think I’ll have just enough time to go home, shower and change, and then call the cab for the airport.  

Accepted Garbage

Construction sites are the most disgusting spaces this side of a dump.  In many ways, they are a dump actually.  I’ve been walking through the new neighbourhood lately.  Watching new homes going up and seeing the area slowly transform from woodland and fields to suburb.  

At this stage of things, where some units are now being lived in while neighbour units are still construction sites…  Where a new lawn still shows sod lines and, across the street, mounds of dirt remain as a constant source of neighbourhood dust… This is the stage where the garbage is most noticeable.  

The dirt fringes of these new neighbourhoods become the dumping ground.  Metal bands that once kept palates of bricks together now sit discarded among the rubble.  Some of these bands have laid out here so long that they’ve begun to rust with the weather.  Slabs of concrete, discarded fragments of wood beams, and left over pieces of PVC tubing also litter the dirt mounds.

But the garbage goes beyond this.  We get to see the garbage of the construction workers themselves in these places.  Which coffee company is winning the hearts of the workers?  Count the paper cups and find out.  So many Tim Horton’s and McDonalds coffee cups litter the edges of the site.  There’s a Pepsi tin here… A Gatorade bottle there.  An old construction helmet lays discarded as if it’s a reminder of a fallen soldier on the battleground.  

So much is strewn around everywhere but I never have seen a cleanup crew.  A water truck may slowly soak streets on a Friday afternoon as it tries to battle the dust of the area.  But the garbage remains day after day… Week after week… And month after month.  

I’m left to wonder what lays beneath my yard?  My property was also once a dirt pit.  Are there Pepsi tins beneath my lawn? Is there a discarded hammer head tucked in against my foundation?  If you dig up my driveway, will there be a treasure of discarded 2x4 ends and nails strewn about?  

I know there’s a lot of garbage created while a neighbourhood gets built.  But shouldn’t there be some level of care taken by the workers?  Is it so hard to spend the last ten minutes of the work day just cleaning up your discarded coffee cups?  Shouldn’t old bits of PVC and those metal bands from the palates be tossed in a dumpster?  And what of the fallen construction worker?  That guy who left his helmet on the field of battle.  Will there be a monument in his honour?  And which house foundation sits silently and secretly… As his final resting place.   

Making It Up As I Go Along #658

Back on the good shift.  Though I may not feel this way when I watch people leaving work at 3:00 tomorrow.  But after just going through my first four days off, once again, it felt good.  Two day weekends carry too much pressure to fit stuff in.  Groceries… Movies… Going out to a pub… There are only a couple of days to squeeze any of it in.  Four days off… You can take a day or two to reset batteries or just be lazy around the house and there’s still two days for other things.

The Olympics are back.  I must say, so far I’m surprised with the amount I’ve watched.  I had absolutely no interest going into these games and completely ignored the opening ceremony stuff.  But I’ve been watching a fair bit of the rowing, swimming, rugby and beach volleyball.  Rugby 7s would be really good if an entire game didn’t take just fifteen minutes to play.  Two seven minute halfs are just too short to be completely legit.  

Social media and politics make for a really bad combination.  It’s just too easy for people to spout off without really thinking about that which they’re spouting about.  You just keep seeing way too much anger and irrationality on a daily basis.  This leader is Hitler… That leader loves Sharia Law… If this person gets in we’re all doomed… And that person “isn’t MY Prime Minister”.  It’s all extremist.  And it’s all garbage.  I wish people would share less loony and just go for a walk or something instead.  Life’s too short to be eaten up with so much hate.  And, for the love of God, check facts before posting stuff.  All it usually takes is a quick Google search to see that it’s not actually Hillary Clinton posing for Halloween in “black face”.  Barrack Obama still isn’t coming for your guns.  Justin Trudeau has never, nor has any plans in the future, to let in half a million refugees.  These are all lies told by hateful twits.  And if you believe it, you’ve been duped.  All it does is make you look stupid.

Anyway, enough of that.  

Booked for another trip home.  Hadn’t planned to book again so quickly but Porter had too good a deal.  So ten days in September will be a nice time around the good ol’ city.  Hopefully it’ll be warmer than it was in my week around town in July.  But either way, it should be a fairly relaxed, less hectic time.  I find I’m always catching up on sleep in Newfoundland.  Even on days off around Ottawa, I don’t sleep much beyond six hours.  But once I get home to the sea air, my night’s sleep jumps up close to eight hours most nights.  So I’m about five weeks away from more sleep, family meals, downtown strolls, and lunches and evenings with long time friends.

Building Burbs

The suburbs are building up.  

Most days, my summer walks are now along sidewalks.  I walk along the edge of someone else’s lawn while they sit in their driveway, barbecuing this evenings meal.  

I’m walking with two minds.  One looks to the future and imagines what the finished product will be like.  Knowing most will never know, or think about, what their neighbourhood was like before.  The other mind remembers back to my original walks.  When I’d cross the street and not feel concrete under my feet again for the next hour.  I crossed over that narrow border between civilization and nature.  I lived a stones throw from a beaver.  I watched a deer cross in front of me, huffing at me from the safety of the woods.  I crossed paths with a coyote as I snowshoed and startled turkeys into a dried creek bed where they ran for their lives ahead of me.

Today I can walk along and see the house which stands where I once found a moose skull.  I see the beginnings of the roadway where a grouse once scooted past me, leaving me only time for a Sasquatch photo (out of focus and dark) as mosquitos attacked my hands and neck.  In another year, I’ll be able to drive my car past that spot as I remember the rain soaked pools carpeted by a bed of yellow and red leaves.  

I don’t see fireflies across the street anymore.  The thick brush was trenched out where they once flickered.  In it’s place is now a creek valley.  

Dozens of frogs and toads would come to my yards in past summers.  Now I spotted one small one, hopping frantically across my front step… As if he’s lost and in search of woods. 

But despite the buildup, I’m still near nature.  This summer I’ve seen a garter snake swimming in a ditch, on the hunt for frogs and fish.  The crickets still call to each other every night.  Muskrat have come back to the freshly dredged second pond, and geese raised goslings within view of my spare room bedroom window.  

So each day I continue to walk with two minds.  One remembering the moose tracks left along muddy patches.  While the other wonders how this neighbourhood will look in another five years.  As I look forward to seeing the park, advertised by billboard today, as I walk by where that moose skull once lay.

Making It Up As I Go Along #657

I’m officially finished with the five day work weeks again.  Last week’s round of evenings being my last full week in Latents.  This week will be a three day week there (having a stat holiday today and taking this coming Friday off).  So it is now an official return to CPSIC schedule blogging.  Every eight days… More or less… Rather than every Sunday.  Though it will be a Monday posting next week as well.  I’m simply running a day behind this week.

Really, not much went on this past week.  Evening shift at work meant it was pretty quiet in the office while I was there.  It also meant I didn’t do much outside of work.  A little TV and grocery shopping was about it.  And for the holiday weekend, the only people I’ve actually sat and talked with have been thousands of kilometres away, talking to me on the phone.  Several days of quiet have been nice, after a busy last month… But I probably shouldn’t enjoy such times as much as I do.  I see people on TV talking about how people are social animals… How we need contact with others.  And I see politicians harp on about needing to do this or that for the benefit of “our children”.  And it’s at those times that I’m left to think I should feel guilty about pleasant solitary times.  The people on TV seem to be telling me that I’m wasting my life.  But the people on TV also give voice to Donald Trump… So maybe I’m not the one who’s got it all wrong after all.  

The Living Room Clock

The rhythmic tick of the clock transports me

From my landlocked living room seat

To an ancient harbour

Several decades ago

Where my father combs knots from my bed ravaged hair

And my grandmother works dough in the kitchen

While a previous batch begins to waft aromas from the oven

Aromas that penetrate every corner of the house

Yes, faintly, in an upstairs bedroom

But just enough to stir the soul

And with hair now as managed as a summer’s father would care

I am drawn by the smells

We all are

This is why the kitchen is the heart of an outport home.

Fed

I return upstairs

Drawn to the bedroom window

Speckled with dabs of white paint

Remnants of a previous year's painting 

Where the clapboard became a fresher coat of white

I sit at the window

While my bedside clock ticks

Morning seconds becoming minutes

Drifting into hours

I sit at rain soaked glass

Peering out at the sea

Seeing the clapboard white foam 

Where shallow rocks

Break frigid waves

Where open ocean meets sheltered harbour.

New rains sweep in on gusts

Joining the window rivers

With cymbal like regularity

As if the winds are great breaths

Paused for an inhale

Before the next round

Further attacks the glass.

There will be no outdoor play today

Toy car roads have been washed away in the yard

The half buried boulder near the corner of the house

On sunny days a dinky fortress

With crevices for my sports cars, dump trucks, and police cruiser to park

Today it’s a slugs paradise, with each crevice filled by the morning deluge.

So today I’ll invent makeshift games

Listening to the metallic clink

As I haphazardly shift marbles about the tin Chinese checker board

I’ll drive the dinkys up the stairwell 

And park them under the sofa

I’ll listen to my grandmother humming hymns as the bread bakes

While my father runs amongst the raindrops

Going across the street

To talk with Joe.

But for now I sit at that window

As the bedside clock ticks away

Until I return once again

Landlocked in my living room

Decades traversed in an instant

As my clock continues to tick

Seconds

Becoming minutes

Turning to hours

As more days

Continue to pass the years.

Making It Up As I Go Along #656

Another long time away.  I took my stuff on the vacation with the intent to write… But never got into the mindset… Always running to this or driving to that.  It was a good time.  Fun and nice to see everyone.  But not well suited to computer time.  And it’s been catchup ever since.  Yesterday it came down to writing or yard work.  And that backyard was just crying for attention.  Sure I could have done both.  There are more then enough hours in the day.  But I just sort of shut down, mentally, this weekend.  TV, a walk, and yard work.  Anyway, back to work this week… Evening shift.  So here goes… Some Monday morning writing.

Ramble of thoughts over the last several weeks…

I have to find again the sleep-in gene.  A few weeks from the CPSIC return and I find myself not often able to sleep in.  I’m ready for bed before midnight and, even when I push through to the wee hours, I find myself waking up before 7:00 am.  I’ll usually relax with the iPad for a bit, and even be able to roll over after that and get another hour or two.  But if I’m going to be back to working those overnight shifts, I need to be able to get myself back to staying up past 3:00 and being able to sleep until after 10:00, or I’m going to be a CPSIC wreck.  I’m not too worried.  I figure doing a few overnights will get that back in me.  But I’m not there now.

Women go for shoes.  I am drawn to bags.  Backpacks, day packs, luggage, shoulder bags… I like them all.  It’s an odd thing.  Perhaps it comes with my increased airport time since moving to Ontario?  I’m flying home three times a year most years and have included a Florida trip each of the last two years… While BC comes in to play every second year.  So being able to organize a few weeks worth of stuff in a couple of compact, easy to carry bags has appeal.  And the free feeling of being able to throw all you need into a backpack and just go is also nice.  Plus working a twelve hour shift makes you feel like you need to pack for the day when going to work.  Whatever the reason, I’m always sizing up bags.

I’ve been to Gros Morne Park several times now.   And now I can say, with certainty, that the Tablelands are, by far, my biggest draw to that place.  I think if I went there for a week and was told I can only see the Tablelands, and no other part of the park for the entire week, I’d be ok with that.  It’s one of those rare places on earth that is unlike anything else.  I could hike around the area all day.  I could try to climb to the top of the plateau.  I could just sit in the parking lot and look up at it all.  Just being there brings wonder and intrigue for me.  The rest of the park is great… But oh man, those Tablelands.

I think the time has come for people to stop making jokes about Donald Trump.  The time is well past that actually.  In reality, the jokes should have stopped the second the man announced he was running for President.  That’s simply too important a job with too much ramifications on the rest of the world, for people to take to social media to make jokes about it.  I think we got to a point where people have wanted to see him succeed, just so the entertainment aspect of it all could continue.  But the reality is this… Either Trump is a buffoon who has no ability or business trying to become the ruler of the free world… Or he’s a con man who thinks everybody else are buffoons who will simply buy in to what he sells.  In either scenario, it means he should be ignored.  He should have been ignored from the very beginning.  But society enjoys viewing the car crashes of this world.  It’s just that the media used to shelter us from such things.  News networks used to filter out the garbage and not serve it up for our consumption.  Now they encourage it.  Partake in it via interviews and the hosting of debates.  And the public hasn’t shown enough self control to say “enough”.  The US presidency has become reality TV.  People want to see what could happen next.  But with a position that powerful, the whole world could regret the feeding of such appetites.  

I am becoming old and crotchety.  Some could argue that I’ve been such for a while.  But I know it myself by the simple fact that I do not “get” Snapchat.  Social media, as a whole, lends itself to the silliness of this world.  We can share the dumbest of things with a few taps on the screen or clicks of a button.  But why anyone wants to go around giving themselves mouse noses and animated cheese eating over their faces, I haven’t the foggiest.  We’re playing dress up on our phones and sharing it with everybody??? I don’t know.  I know several people who use Snapchat.  If they like it, more power to them, but it is one of the few things in this world that I simply do not even comprehend the possibility of why someone would want to do it.  

And finally, I saw Ghostbusters.  I wasn’t sure what to expect.  You hear the panic and disgust in so many men who are around my age.  And I read a review that panned it badly.  But my sister wanted to go, and a night out to the movies with her and my niece was going to be a good thing no matter what I’d think of the film.  

Overall, I thought it was pretty good.  I for sure thought the original was better.  But I have the value of nostalgia and youthful memories going with that one.  I also, for sure, thought the new version was better than Ghostbusters II.  That second of the originals was simply a bad movie.  Not much fun or imagination in that one.  With this new one, I thought the two leads were just alright.  Likeable but not doing anything that makes you take notice.  I’ve already forgotten much of what they did in the movie.  But Kate McKinnon, as Holtzmann, made the movie for me.  It was an original character… Funny and interesting to watch.  I think if she was not in this movie, I wouldn’t have liked it all that much.  But with her, I enjoyed it… And would put it up against the original movie in a pretty close battle.  But still, Bill Murray as the star of the first… And the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man terrorizing the streets of New York, give it to the original by a nose. 

Making It Up As I Go Along #655

IBeen a while since I’ve posted.  Overly busy one weekend… A death in the family (one of my uncles) another weekend.  Together, they made writing on a blog not a high priority.  So, as for what’s been going on…

Dad lost a brother a few weeks ago.  I won’t go into it much because I know how much this uncle hated social media and I don’t think he’d want to be discussed in a blog that’s linked to Facebook.  But he fought for many years and will be missed.  Times like those are when living away from home is hard.  You feel a million miles away from family in such times.

My good neighbours are moving.  Harley and family put the house up for sale and will likely be gone by August.  I’ll miss having them around.  They’ve been good neighbours… And friends.  Today, I happened to see the first of the potential buyers coming through to have a look at the place.  Both pulling into the driveway and leaving, they drove over my lawn… And the dad walked over my lawn with no thought when he took his child out of the backseat.  Not a good first impression.

To compound the neighbourhood issue, my other neighbour put his garbage out for Thursday.  The problem being that Thursday was only a cardboard recycling day.  Today is Sunday… The garbage bags remain.  This is the same dirtbag that I saw open a letter as he walked back from his mailbox… He just tossed the strip of envelop he tore off onto the ground.  Honestly… The wrong neighbours are moving.  I’m suddenly left wondering about another possible move myself.  I always thought that, as long as I’m living alone in Ottawa, I’d likely be staying here.  Now I’m not as sure.  Hopefully Harley’s replacement will end up good.

My CPSIC return date is official.  I finish in Latents on August 4… Start in at CPSIC on the 9th.  Back to the twelve hour shifts and overnights… And those wonderful four days off.  At that time, the blog will return to an eight day cycle instead of Sunday posting.  

Hopping a plane in four days.  Flying home Thursday evening for two and a half weeks.  This will be the first I actually see my sister and family in two years.  I think it’ll be the longest stretch we’ve gone since being together.  A bit of Gros Morne Park… Some Fogo Island… And eight or nine days around town… Looking forward to it.  Though still not sure how to pack.  Looks like a lot of 14 degree days and possible single digit nights in the near future.  Will I even need a pair of shorts?  I love my homeland… But come on… It’s summer already.  

I’m slowly integrating to Ottawa in my sports watching.  I now enjoy watching two local teams and cheer them on.  Though the Senators remains as not being one of them.  I aim to watch football whenever the Redblacks are on TV… And I went to two games last year.  And the Champions baseball team is a fun time as well.  Been to two games there so far this season and watched another game on TV the other day.  Plus I bought a Champions ball cap and jersey this season.  Perhaps a football jersey isn’t far behind.  The one that surprises me is that I’ve never gotten too excited about the junior hockey here.  I’ve been in Ottawa for thirteen years now and I think I’ve gone to only three 67’s games in that time.  They’re a historic OHL team playing in a nice stadium but I’ve just never caught the bug.  And my ignoring of the Senators remains largely based on the fan base rather than the team itself.  So many Senator fans are petty and whiny about their team.  Every loss is due to bad refs.  Every win is a sign that the Stanley Cup is near.  Every Senator player is a budding star and every opponent is dirty and evil.  I know there are dumb fans for every hockey team… And there are good fans for every team as well (even the Sens).  But there’s an insecurity and unwillingness to see reality here, with this team, that I haven’t seen in any other hockey market.  

I haven’t written since the Orlando shooting and all the fallout around it.  The truth is, in America, the gun debate has already been won.  When small children were the main victims of a mass shooting, in Sandy Hook, and nothing came of it from a gun control point of view, that’s proof that Americans have made up their mind about how things stand with gun control.  But there’s seriously something wrong when 90% of a democratic country’s population support a bill on some level of gun control… And the president of that country supports such a bill… Yet still, nothing is done.  And honestly, I don’t mind if somebody is pro gun.  I don’t own guns nor have any interest in having anything to do with them, but if someone else has an interest in them I don’t want to be the one to tell them they’re wrong in that.  But that said, if there’s just been a mass shooting and a community is in mourning… That’s the time for pro gun people to just shut up.  Don’t post on social media trying to make yourselves some sort of victim as you fear losing civil rights.  Little kids were killed just a few years ago and you lost no rights at all.  Let the mourners now be angry and let them vent.  You won’t lose anything over it and may in fact come off as a little classy and reasonable.  Really, I haven’t seen a more insecure and frightened group of people in this world as those that fear their guns are going to be taken away.  Anti-gun people would probably not be so anti-gun if the gun nuts simply didn’t act so nuts about their guns.  And this constant fear from white North Americans that someone bad is going to break into their house in the middle of the night… It’s paranoia.  You’re more likely to be struck by lightning as you walk to the lottery office to claim your million dollar win than be needing an AR 15 propped up next to your night table for protection while you sleep.  It’s a threat that’s so infinitesimally small that it isn’t worth worrying about. 

So in the end, I do think there should be a level of gun control.  I don’t think people should be allowed machine guns or bazookas.  I think any weapon designed for use by marines in a war zone should not be available for soccer moms in the suburbs.  And not only should there be background checks on anyone looking to buy a gun, but there should be regular psychological exams for anyone owning anything more than a hunting rifle (because even a good and reasonable person who owns a gun isn’t guaranteed to remain good and reasonable for the rest of their lives).  But even though I believe that’s what should be… I saw the fallout from the Sandy Hook shooting… And I know gun owners have won.

Anyway, that’s it for today.  I will bring the iPad and Bluetooth keyboard to Newfoundland so I hope to update the blog at least once while there… Though I can’t guarantee that it’ll be next Sunday.  Whenever the chance comes up, I’ll do it.

   

Making It Up As I Go Along #654

Not much struck me this week.  Doing regular walks again.  Went for at least a half hour, and more often closer to an hour, seven of the last nine days.  The pair of Canada Geese and their pair of goslings remain around the ponds.  Quite a tight knit family.  Saw my first Cardinal of the year… Though he was too quick for a photograph.  

Been summertime hot over the past week.  I turned the AC on this past weekend.  I find the problem with the air conditioning in my place is that the upstairs… Where the bedrooms are… Doesn’t get cold enough.  The basement remains so cool that I shut the vents down there.  The main floor is comfortable.  But as soon as I go to bed and close the door, things get stuffy.  First world problems.  The end result, I am turning up the AC for nighttime.  I don’t mind a warmish house in the day, but need the cool for sleep.

Sports wise, I’ve become very much a baseball person.  All total, I’d think I’ve watched about an hour of hockey playoffs… And when I’ve been watching, I’ve been bored.  Yes, if it was Montreal playing, my interest would be higher.  But the decline has been a few years in the making and I find I’m at my least interested.  Funny though, I still enjoy the hockey pools and figuring out what players I should have on my team and all that.  I just don’t want to actually watch the games.  And the Raptors playoff run meant virtually nothing to me.  But even when the Blue Jays struggle, I want to watch.  Baseball is where it’s at.  Though the Jays must stop doing these alumni ceremonies… Always hosted by Buck Martinez.  Always bring players out on to the field with 1970s rock music accompaniment.  Usually done without much point.  And how is it that Jose Cruz gets included in every one of these things?  He was a mid range player on the team for five or six years of mediocre baseball.  The team should try it’s best to forget about Jose Cruz… Not celebrate him.  Anyway… All that said, from a sports point of view, baseball is where it’s at.

The Rescued Fly

He’s probably already dead

The housefly I helped to escape

Mine is the swatterless home

Instead I corralled him

Locked in my spare bedroom

Window opened

Screen removed

Arms stretched 

With an iPad hand

I guide him like a sheepdog

Until he accidentally tastes freedom

While I quickly shut things up

In case he decides to u-turn.

Such painstaking care

To save a life

Though with selfish intentions

As I imagine him visiting 

While I attempt to slumber

His buzzing in the darkness

Keeping me dreamless 

Through the night

But how long does he last?

A housefly in the wild

When does he perch too near a frog?

Does he round the corner from my window

Only to flop into a spider’s lair?

Is his erratic flight, 

So perfected on human reflexes,

No match for those of a patrolling wren?

Or does he wander across the summer sky?

Buzzing happily without the puzzlement of windows

No longer the captive

Exploring a new world

As he catches an updraft of air

A delight unlike anything he would have found

In my home.

No

He’s probably already dead

Being quickly digested

In the belly of a Robin child

As he gains strength

Soon to leave 

His cozy nesty home.

Making It Up As I Go Along #653

A four day weekend makes me post to the blog more like I’m on the CPSIC schedule than the regular one.  I skipped posting on Sunday and am here on my last day off before heading back to work.  Anyways…

I think I’ve turned the corner health wise.  Hip is back to normal.  Back has little moments of tightness but nothing major.  And the shin does some contracting from time to time as I sit still, but doesn’t hurt and doesn’t affect walks anymore.  Last five days, I’ve gone for 50, 30, 45, 80, and 45 minute long walks with no real issues.

Long weekend is an extra day longer as I take a day of leave.  It reminds me of my regular four day weekends with CPSIC and I’m basically ready to return to that lifestyle.  Four days off in a row all the time just makes for a more relaxed life.  Don’t need to go rushing off to grocery stores and such at the same time that everybody else is rushing off to them too.  

This past weekend, I had it in my mind that I’d go to a baseball game, and also go to a couple of IMAX movies.  In the end, I did neither.  The weather was so good, and the green of the forest across the street looked so nice, that I was just content to go out for those walks and do some work around the house.  Plus I would have cooked at that baseball game.  It was 4.5 hours long and not a cloud was in the sky.  I walked for just under an hour and a half instead and, by the end of that, I was ready for some time in the cool of the basement.  So more than twice that time in a baseball stadium, no thank you.

And today is one of those rare days that I get through writing something… Ready to save and post… And then decide to scrap the whole thing.  Look at it and “meh, I’m not posting that.” It actually probably happens once a year.  Anything else… The things I post… It’s a sit down to the keyboard, type and post exercise.  

This leaves me an hour in and still nothing to share.  Oh dear oh dear.

So… With that… I’m going to do something quick…

The Poem of May

Type type click clack

Space 

Pause

Clack

Mull and think

Think and mull

Clickity click clackity tap

Wandering mind

Bird chirp

Sip a sip of drink

Text bing

Birds sing

Switch to read from home

Back to clack

Click and type

Think of gator pie

If I don’t get some

I think I’m going to die

Clue it up

With an empty cup

The birds they have all flown

Time to end

And then press send

Then check on texts from home.

Making It Up As I Go Along #652

Well I think the back and hip… And shin, oh my… Are on the mend.  This week I did a half hour walk that ended with an evening of some tired muscles… But no real pain anyway.  Garden work and some vacuuming on the weekend felt fine too.  Though some tightness comes back after the jobs are done.  Some of that aren’t even in the areas that were hurt in the first place.  I suppose it’s little used muscles over the last three to four weeks, creaking back into action.

Not sure how much more Facebook I can handle.  I guess it’s for me to control.  Nobody puts a gun to my head to check on my friends status updates.  But it’s turning into an abrupt mix of emotions.  In a two minute sweep you’re bombarded with… 

selfie, selfie, advertisement, selfie, kitten video, worthy cause, tragic news, selfie, lunatic “news” item, puppy video, racism, selfie, advertisement, worthy cause, selfie, mental instability, and “aw, that’s nice” Picture of a long missed friend.  

Basically, just as you’re about ready to pack it in, there’s something great that pops up on the screen.  So, apparently, Facebook is like golf.  You can be going through a horrible round of it, be just about ready to pack it in forever, and then nail a perfect drive down the middle of a beautiful fairway as a golden sun shines down upon you on a cloudless summer day.

With that, this week, my mind has been running over things.   

What’s Green?

I’m often left wondering

How others see our world

We agree on that which is green

But is the green I see the same as theirs?

Shades may vary

Brilliance may be faded

And values of the greenness may vary

Treasured by one

Ignored by another.

One sees the forest as haven

A place for worship and peace

Another sees food source

Scene for the blood to spill

Perhaps wasted space

Ready to be turned to pasture

There to be built

Manufactured

Sacrificed for an economy

Quiet can be paradise for some

A place of being

To recharge and meditate

But it can be hell for others

Leaving them with thoughts

As they desperately search

Looking for the distraction of sound

Anything to keep them from within their head

A leader may be fiendish

Corrupted and power hungry

Trying to steal everything you find dear

Dictator

Or that leader could be hero

Brave and fearless

Ready to bring change

To those so desperately in need

Mediator 

Terrorist versus freedom fighter?

Only perspective knows

Religion of peace and love

Or bringer of oppression and torment

Music is there to enliven

Energize and stimulate

Bringing thousands together as one

But it is also a poetry

Capturing moments in time

And bringing quiet cold shivers

In darkened rooms

Immersed in sound

Perhaps work is life

Bringing all meaning

As one does what they’re meant to do

Or it could be a means to an end

Payer of bills

While you bide your time

For what really counts

We view our world as obvious

Of course it must be this way

It’s plain for all to see

Or

We view our world as mystery

Unsure if anything is real

Or wondering if it's just all too profound to know

And we’re all in it together

Those needing weapons to protect from governments

Those keeping arms to protect from strangers

Those to feed their families

Collectors

Those not wanting but willing to trust the trustworthy with such things

And those demanding governments to protect us from those wishing to arm

Some are seen too certain

Sure what must be done

Rushing in without thought of consequence

Others are thought hesitant

Head sand buriers 

Too willing to negotiate

Society is a soup of all this

Some being content in the broth

As it simmers through time

With a pinch of this 

And a dash of that

Changing the flavour ever so slightly

And even though others grow weary of soup

Want to dump the pot out 

Start fresh

Or demand to stick to that recipe

The one that brings them comfort

On a rainy, stormy day

Success in life will be

If the experimenters win

And convince all the rest of us

That soup is a pretty good meal

And if one likes it best

With a pinch of this

Maybe we’re better off trying it

Cause it sure beats starving around a dumped pot

Or clamouring over 

That lid slammed tight.

Making It Up As I Go Along #651

Still not a lot of activity for me.  Other than physio.  Things are going well with my back/hip and shin but I still can’t really walk more than ten minutes worth at any given time… Then the hip and shin just start getting tired.  

Evening shift at work is a nice change.  Haven’t done it in several months.  The smaller number of people in the office, more casual dress, and ability to stay up a bit later at night is up my ally.  But it’s busy all week with just two of us working and lots of priority work coming in.  They should really make full teams do the evenings rather than two at a time.

And I’m going back to the old CPSIC stomping grounds.  Later this summer I’ll move back in there permanently.  So it’ll be back to four on four off then, with more time off through the year and a little more money back in my pocket.  But it’s the time off that was my chief factor.  It’s a much better shift for travelling and dealing with visitors here.  And once the change happens, I’ll be back to blogging every eight days rather than every Sunday.  Just easier that way when your four days off is constantly changing.

And it’s Mother’s Day.  One of those days when it’s just as well to stay off social media altogether.  I called my mom.  Spoke to her for a while without any of the rest of my social network needing to know about it… Well… Until right now I guess.  Drat.

But yeah, if you’re looking for interesting material on Twitter or Facebook… And that interesting material isn’t the phrase “happy Mother's Day to all the mom’s out there, but especially…” Then you’re probably out of luck.  

I think maybe we’ve made these days too universal.  I don’t think we need to go around wishing our co-workers happy Mother's Day.  I even witnessed one of my male coworkers wishing a childless lady, in our office, a Happy Mother’s Day.  It’s become so universal that he doesn’t even consider the fact of motherhood or no motherhood.  If she’s a woman… It’s “Happy Mothers Day” to that guy.  Well done.  

Personally, I just leave the wishing to my own mother… And figure other sons and daughters can wish it to their own as well.  I’d never really think to offer a Happy Mothers Day to my sister.  That’s my sister… Not mother… Though, for some of my growing up, that line may have been a bit fuzzy.  I kid my sissy.  Happy Sister’s Day… Whenever that will be.

Sometimes, having bumbling baseball commentators can be fun times.  Today, in Major League Baseball, it’s Breast Cancer Awareness Day (though I assume we’re all aware of breast cancer already).  When telling us viewers about the specialness of the day, Buck Martinez told us all… “It’s Breast Awareness Day!”  

He did quickly correct himself.  But what a day that could have been!  What a day indeed.

So it increasingly looks like it’ll be Donald Trump vs. Hillary Clinton for the US Presidency.  Oh my goodness.  Either, the land of the free, with democracy for all, will have four of the last five presidents coming from only two families (a fact that seems to be about as dictatorial as a democracy can possibly be).  Or the most powerful nation in the history of the world is going to be run by a reality TV star whose goal is to get Mexico to pay for a giant wall in order to keep all their rapists away from America… And to deny all members of a particular religious group entry into their country.  What times we live in.

It’s Greening

The world is greening

Fresh grass pushes through the thatch

Reaching for the sun

A “go” signal for the robins to commence  their wormy hunt   

Distant trees show speckles

Splashes of yellowy green

Budding upon bare branches

Wood skeletons soon to be fleshed out

Shoots and stems appear

Climbing above the rocks and dirt

Preparing to bloom

Only days away from a flowery explosion

The explosion has come early for me

My backyard transforming from snowy waste

Now a mountain meadow

With dabs of purple, white and gold

Upon the green painted canvas

Just outside my back door.

Making It Up As I Go Along #650

A week of haze for me.  I don’t do well with drugs generally.  Either my stomach takes a beating with them or I get very tired, or have a night of bad dreams.  Most drugs in my medicine cabinet get thrown out with best before dates long gone by.  With my back and hip taking me to the doctor, I’m prescribed a more lethal than off the shelf pain killer and a muscle relaxant.  And half of the week feels somewhat dream like to look back on.

By weeks end, I was doing better.  I assume I was getting used to the drugs.  But Tuesday and Wednesday were hard.  I had to keep double checking my own work as I went, just to make sure that I wasn’t performing some of it in a dream state.  

Even today, I almost never got on the blog because I was so dopey on the sofa with the TV on.  But I got more alert over the last hour or so… I guess drugs wearing off some… And so here I am.

That all said, the back is feeling pretty good now.  Most of my issues, feeling wise, is in my hip and shin.  And the doctor and physiotherapist both think those issues are coming from the back and inflammation there.  So I continue to take it easy.  Short, slow walks have been it.  From the office to the car in the lot, or to the cafeteria, or from the house to the mail box has been about as far as I’ve gone.  Further and my shin begins to ache while my hip burns.  

I’ve also set aside jobs around the house.  Vacuuming has been delayed, both yards are only half raked, from before my injury.  Old thatch grass just waiting to be raked away.  

But I’m hoping I can get things going soon.  The burn has been out of the hip for several days and I get little twitches in my shin… The type of twitching you feel when things are beginning to unwind and loosen up.

This all said, writing remains difficult for a second week in a row.  Half of the week was in a drugged haze.  And all the week has been very quiet with me either plugging away in the office or stretched out in the house.  Two sessions of Physio have been fairly uneventful as well, so I’m left with very little of interest to report.

Physio

Stretch

The bounds

Of tightened fibres

Pushing the rigid loose

With hopes of touching toes

Extend out and hold

Count to ten

Ease back

Relax

Making It Up As I Go Along #649

So putting out wicker furniture can cause back injuries.  Last Sunday I thought I dodged the bullet after a hot bath seemed to help after my left lower back spasmed when putting down my wicker love seat on the back patio.  Then things worsened again… I wasn’t able to do much other than lay flat on the Monday… Went back to work feeling a bit better Tuesday.  But then started to develop issues in my hip.   Trying to walk even aggravates that down into my shin.  

Things got to a point where, by Thursday, I could barely walk from the office to my car in the lot due to pain in the shin.  

The weekend has been an improvement with stretching, rest, and more careful posture in walking.  I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow anyway and see what he has to say about it.  It’s odd though.  It feels almost claustrophobic when you can’t walk more than a few hundred yards at a time.  I look out at the trails and woods and no I can’t go out there.  

I am pretty much at my low end of interest for hockey.  My Hockey News subscription is soon up and I’m thinking I may let it go.  Playoffs are on and I have probably watched a total of ten minutes of it… Total.  I just find the games boring this year, the rule enforcement inconsistent and silly, and the analysis of the hockey over simplified and cliched.  Add to that the fact that the Blue Jays are basically on every day, and hockey simply doesn’t draw me in.  

Out of Spite

A week stumbling around the world

Leaves very little to say

Cause who wants to write about being an invalid

On a sunny and warm Spring day?

Write about the sofa time?

That’s a very boring thing

Who’d want to read anything like that

Compared to the fund the outdoors brings

So here I lounge upon my couch

Unsure of what to write

But something must be posted on the blog

So here’s this poem done out of spite.

Making It Up As I Go Along #648

May finally be moving in to real Spring weather.  Sunny and 21 today and was sun and 16 yesterday.  BBQs, baseball on TV, a few flowers poking up out of the ground… Winter may be over.

With that, I’ve jinxed the whole thing.  Today I took my yard furniture out of the computer room and put it back out on the patio.  So a foot of snow may soon follow.

Showing my age, moving wicker patio furniture down the stairs and out to the yard seems to have done a number on my back.  No pops or snaps or anything, but as I lay down the last piece of 20 lb furniture, my lower back tightened quite a bit.  I think it was a good decision to skip softball this summer.  How is one expected to run about a field, jumping, running and diving… When they can’t move patio furniture without injury?  Anyway, a hot bath seems to have helped.  It’s still stiff and tender but not as knotted as originally.  

Glacial Lake

Ours is a glacial lake

Fed by turquoise creek

Flowing over rocky land

Milky water mirroring the world above

But ours is not a destination.

No honeymooners come for the week

Great mountains and brilliant ice flows

Both thousands of miles away.

Yet still our waters are glacial.

A silty tea outside my window

Made so by human hands

Not the inspiration of natures processes

The winter strip of nature

Tearing plants and ancient soils away

Leaving water to flow flilterless 

Carrying remaining silts as winter melts

But without white capped mountains

It’s alien

The turquoise waters only beautiful

In high altitude settings.

So I wish for the day

When the tea settles to the bottom

And leaves me with mud bottomed waters

As a sign of a healthy forested landscape

Where frogs lounge away the summer heat

And muskrat and beaver make themselves at home

My current glacial waters feels void

A watery desert

Cautiously explored by duck and geese

And completely avoided by those smart smart frogs.