Funny Guy…..

I have always considered myself to have a pretty good sense of humor. I have a quick wit, and a charmingly unique perspective on life, the universe, and everything.

I am also extremely humble, devoid of any egotistical tendencies, and I have never once thought to borrow ideas from other sources.

Also, I have a healthy respect for bullshit.

If you can imagine, I was perusing Facebook last evening after an invigorating 3km jog with my Operation:Frilly L’il Piledriver Crack Commando Squad, and I found myself on a bit of a roll with my comments.

I happened to think they were primarily droplets of comedic gold.

Question, however: Can funny go to far?

In one instance, though my offering was clearly within the realm of the subject matter being discussed, as well as the overall tone of the comment-list, it didn’t quite get the response i was aiming for.

You see, I kind suck balls when it comes to knowing whether people are laughing in an electronic environment, or not, as in this case.

Is their lack of response due to a shocked and horrified reaction to my grossly insensitive and vulgar words? Or are they doubled over with too much guffaw-ness to organize their simple digit based musculature to type “lol” and hit reply.

My fragile sense of self vibrates like wine glasses at an opera convention.

Knowing your audience is kind of a big deal. Especially in this digital-electro-techno-futuristic-IWorld reality we live in.

I guess all i am asking is if I pull an e-funny, and it makes you smile, or laugh, or if it causes your entrails to spontaneously relocate to four feet outside your abdomen, then let me know. The quicker, the better. Otherwise like a rabid “So Money” Mike, I will hit redial until you tell me to bounce.

Additionally, if i say something not so funny, keep it to yourself. Nobody likes a jerkbait.

You have been Motivated!!!

At least that’s the idea behind statements like that. One line, shock your system driven slogans to compel and intrique.

Motivation is a tough subject for a lot of us, because it requires work, and effort, and getting off our asses to accomplish job X. I totally feel your pain.

This past weekend, we took on the momentous task of reorganizing our residential layout. We swapped the dining and living rooms. We moved the kids around to more economical configurations in the kid to room ratio, and attempted to clear through all the laundry.

This process is still on going. Also, I had this foolish notion that a bunch of pre-adolescent beings would be capable of maintaining some semblence of order and care of their belongings, once organized. Yeah, not so much.

The downstairs looks great – it was a good move, and has created a more intimate and welcoming environment for our family room, not quite so much like a college dorm.

My wife and I are excited at the prospect of being able to have nice things out again, like pictures in frames or a throw rug on the floor. However, given the 3 yr olds current activity level and penchant for climbing, pulling apart, and tasting, we may have to hold off. I repaired a small hole in the wall, and he thought it was a good idea to lick it. Facepalm.

Behind this push for change is the desire to see progress. We are in a bit of a holding pattern with my career, so doing something to give our daily grind a facelift is appealing – i just wish a)kids weren’t so messy and b)i had more patience. I realize in a few years we will have a whole different set of issues to worry about, but for now, i’ll pay attention to this one: finding a way of motivating my children to demonstrate care and respect for their own belongings, their siblings’, and the house we live in.

Ironically, I am trying to develop the same habit within myself, with respect to my health and fitness.

We never stop learning.

Pardon me while I reach for this double glazed……

Making it up as I go along……

Today is my birthday. I’m 36.

Thought’d i’d pause for the inevitable fanfare and whoot-hollerin’ you all seem to engage in.

I got to thinking this morning while I navigated the precarious flow of the Tim Horton’s drive-thru that I really don’t feel any older.

There’s been quite a lot of challenge in my life, less so fortunately lately, but enough to write a book series on, followed by a string of movies of the week, and at least one feature. But I’m only 36.

On and off recently, I have been discussing with my wife (let’s be real here – she was telling me what was best for me, I was promptly disregarding it because it was too much work) that I usually expect the worse, and thenn the worse turns up to loiter out on the front lawn, pissing all over the dandelions.

So one of the purposes to this newly re-invested blog is the concept of counting my blessings.

I have a lot, it would seem.

So today, for my 36th birthday, even though I still need new running shoes, and a proper tool chest, and maybe eventually a new set of golf clubs, I am content to say that I am grateful for the following things:

My Wife: The Best Friend I have ever had. She is always right, and I really need to listen to her more. Not just for myself, but for her. She deserves it. I would be completely lost without her. Also, she laughs at my jokes, which is nice of her.

My Kids: We have 5 – four boys and one girl. Each of them is spectacular and frustrating. We are just about out of baby stages as our youngest works at ridding himself of diapers and our oldest hovers at the cusp of teenagehood. Alright, theres a bit of melancholia there. But I’m glad we chose to have them. They are part of my definition.

My Dad: Here’s the thing about Dad: He really is this warm, wonderful, nurturing bear of a man. I just wish all the people that have continued to eff him over in life would have stopped to realize it. He’s in a terrific marriage (finally) with my step-mother Cristina, who is awesome. And he deserves that happiness. I am very fortunate, despite all the terrible crap he went through to have him as a father. Plus, I can totally kick his ass at video games now.

My job: Ok, ok, so those who know me personally will know I am not actualy “doing” my job quite yet, but in this I mean where I work. It is, in the words of #9, “fantastic”. I have never had this level of contentment or opportunity in a job before. Hell, this isn’t a job. It’s a career, and one that I wish I started years ago. It gives me tremendous support, both personally and professionally, and enables me to take care of my family. That bit is important – “Take Care” – All I have to do is show up, give it my best, and be ready when it needs me to be. That, I can do.

You: Suprised? Why? I could continue to pour my meandering thoughts into a form and upload it til the dolphins go home, but the fact that you are here reading it makes it vital. For that I thank you. You rock!

As always, I feel a little less burdened. A little more peaceful. And a little bit sad. Only in that I can’t reach back to pat the shoulder of my younger self, and tell him it will all be ok. But I guess it’s that uncertainty, that not-so-long dark tea time of the soul that brought me here. So instead, I’ll say a quiet thank you to him too.

Today, wherever you, raise a glass in your honour.

Once upon a time at 76 Totter’s Lane

Ok – so I’m a geek. Not just any geek, I’m a Whovian.

For those untrained in the language, I’m an epic fan of Doctor Who. Not Classic Who. Not New Who. ALL Who.

It’s a trait I now get to enjoy with my children, and as it turns out, my dad. He was peripherally aware of Doctor Who a long time ago, but I stumbled on it during the 80’s thanks to late night reruns on CKVR (what we used to call CTV-Two in the old days). Now he spends time becoming informed on the intracacies of this fort year old masterpiece.

It’s cheesy as hell, and didn’t have some of the wow factor in the beginning it now enjoys, but there is that one element that certainly keeps drawing me back, as well as countless others.

There are no rules.

And even when it appears that rules are being laid down, you have to remember that you are following an aging whimsical Music Man on a flight through Time and Space. And that there are no rules.

I have often dreamed of eventually finding my niche and getting some of my own ideas on paper, on screen etc. But I worry sometimes when i see shows of this magnitude – could I write well enough for that audience? I’d certainly love the opportunity – but am I worthy of it?

The construct of the Doctor Who Universe is all at once so massive and also so poetically simple that you just don’t want to eff it up, which has happened, and the minute you decide that some aspect needs to “be” a certain way, you’ve missed the point of the show. Anything goes. But not forever.

The Doctor is a genius of a man who is kind, loving, terrible, frightening and for better or worse the guardian of all things until the ends of time. He calls himself a mad man with a box, which rings true except that he delights in your enjoyment, when you open that box.

It speaks to an innocence, and a connection with life that is almost unatainable, because as high as the greatest joy is that he basks in, equally deep is his suffering. He is alone, and there is no one, and no thing capable of sharing that. Except his Tardis of course. The Box. But it is not separate. They are symbiotic. Parts of a whole. or Parts of a Hole, if you like.

I sincerely hope that Doctor Who becomes infinite. It sounds corny, I know. But so long as we are capable of imagining that kind of dream, then the possibility of it will remain with us always.

Heavy Handed

Like most of you, I am working to improve my overall health and well being, as well lose some weight.

It really sucks.

Mostly, because I continue to run head-long into the brick wall of realization that, alas, even I am getting older, and my superior specimen of the human machine is just not what it used to be.

I work in an environment where physical fitness and health is MANDATORY, and am given more than sufficient time to ensure that I am in compliance. Fitness is not my issue.

Fatness is.

I have been tailoring a new diet regime for the last few weeks, as well as my regular fitness training 3 to 5 times a week. Guess what? No change.

I am not about to start a blog about my weight loss journey or anything of that sort because in reality I only need to lose about 20 pounds. It’s not much to ask. But dammit am I fed up with it.

I just thought I’d share that brief diatribe that’s been bouncing around in my head. It was either that or make unpleasant faces at other drivers.

Getting back in the saddle

So it’s been a little while since I was here.

Let’s be honest – I was lazy.

I have in the past prided myself on my accomplishments and accolades, all of which were IN THE PAST.

I’ve gotten to a point that I feel a slowly evolving compulsion to just do anything creative. It really doesn’t matter what, just to do it.

So here I am, back in the saddle.

I shall endeavor to stay upright this time.