Category Archives: General Discussion

A Month of Somedays…..

Sorry. I’ve been out of the loop a bit.

The coffee is pretty good. The scenery, delightful. The internet: not so great.

But quietly approaching 30 days of naught, and I’m still looking for a place to happen.

I’m not intentionally obtuse, I just can’t tell you anything.

But it does cause my mind to cast off to far away shores, where the comfortably numb are free to pontificate upon the big bad wolf in designer sheepskin shoes, and how hard life is, what with all the free health care and freedom to choose life, or liberty, or the pursuit of tackiness.

Sometimes, just imagine that things are not as convoluted as the script outline says they are.

Consider, if you will, the idea that maybe, just maybe, the farther from home you are, the more it’s the same same.

We are all afraid. We all want love. And the simple things in life, like a cup of good coffee, the sweet caress of a warm hand, or a bellyful of shared laughter counts towards our daily bread, all the more so than anything that fits within the 140 character limit of doom and gloom.

I miss home. I miss what it represents and how it makes me feel. But most of all, the more I see of people at home, wherever they are, the more I reminded of why i am here. For now, at least.

Someday soon, it will be just another day. And then I will be home again, home again. Jiggity jig.

Parts Uknown

The last two months have been a whirlwind.

I won’t say why or how, but it has been a challenge.

It still is a challenge.

I find myself, now, in a different place, literally and figuratively, and I’m not exactly sure that I’m ok with it. 

But I’m dealing.

First, I put one foot in, I take one foot out, I put another foot in, and shake it all about. Lather, rinse and repeat.

I can only do this one day at a time. I am nowhere near anything that I recognize or am familiar with, but I can’t focus on that.

One day at a time. Messages home in a digital bottle. Distractions during the downtime.

Hopefully, at some point, this will all come to an end, and I’ll be back where I belong.

Until then, chin up, eyes on the prize, and take in the reality of parts unknown.

Desparately Seeking Soothing

Hi. How are ya?

Well, enough about you.

I’ve been busy.

Too busy, apparently, to drag my neanderthalish fingers across the touch screen to delight and entice my stalwart readership with my stirling demeanor and rapey wit.

Sorry.

On a brighter note, I have discovered a few things some of you may know.

First: I can be an asshole. Again, sorry.

B: Kobo has this cool self-publishing dooey on their site. I haven’t used it yet, but eventually, I will learn the whole alphabet and give it a whirl. Here’s the link: Kobo – Writing Life

iii) Writing Prompts @ Reddit. This is my new favourite subreddit. It’s how my writing brain goes to the gym instead of sitting around writing about chips and beer.

I will, of course, endeavor to pop by here and do my diligence. If I remember.

Because I really do feel better after I’ve made an honest effort at writing something. I feel the same way after going to the gym for my body too.

Trippy.

It’s all fun and games til someone loses their dignity…..

Olympics.

Oh-limp-pics.

Oli Mpegs.

I digress. Apparently I have a face that digresses. Again.

So the Olympics are on.

That venerable pasttime where nations pit their brightest and best against each other in the spirit of competition and sportsmanship.

We’ve had some real challenges. Doping scandals. Scandals about dope. Herculean spectacles of advertising and money making. Terrorist attacks and political action.

A true mirror to our long-suffering interdependency.

It’s 2014. And the Olympics are in Sochi, Russia.

Tensions are high. All eyes are glaring. Conditions are less than ideal. The climate is like chilled vodka in a frosty glass.

I see what I did there.

And still, the athletes perform like gods. Amazing feats of dexterity and coordination. Wonderful displays of patriotism and teamwork.

And heartwarming visuals of solidarity across boundaries large and small.

Back home, the political benchwarmers squabble over what flags to fly. Like their opinions matter.

Because, they say, the Olympics are about the very elite of a country’s physical magicians, those finely honed and trained persons of exquisite strength and character.

It’s their chance to shine.

And the powers that wanna-be will tell you it has nothing to do with a persons preferred lifestyle choice.

And you know what?

They are absolutely right.

It’s 2014. The Olympics are in Sochi, Russia.

And what people do behind closed doors with each other, in the name of love, lust or passing fancy, has no bearing on their ability to win gold, silver or bronze.

Or, as it happens, to do just about anything else you or I might have a hankering to do in our everyday lives.

So fly the fucking colours, mate. All the colours of the rainbow.

If you don’t like it, you shouldn’t have put The Rings on it.

The Sacred and The Wounded Word…..

This is my blog.

There are many like it but this one is mine.

My blog is not necessarily my best friend, but it means well.

It is a tiny fraction of my life.

I must master it as I must master my life.

Which I recognize is a circular statement with no actual context or substance, but sounds deep and wisdomy. 

Without me, my blog is useless.

Also not as funny.

Without my blog I am just another guy without a blog.

I must write my blog true. Or false. Depends on the weather, i suppose.

I must ruminate more crisply than some other blogger, who is trying to out-funny me.

I must stop using made up words, like geflunka, or Dave. Or wisdomy.

I must publish mine before he or she publishes theirs.

I will. (No I won’t).

I promise. (No I don’t).

I mean it this time. (Not really).

Really. (Wrong again).

Before Eccentrica Gallumbits and Kurt Vonnegut and The Fonze, I swear this creed:

My blog and myself are defenders of the magical land of Tee-Hee-Hee.

We are the Masters of my inner monologue.

We are the Sainted Physician, attending to the Sacred and the Wounded Words of my life.

So be it, or make it so, until there is no more words to write, but peace.

So say we all.

Seacrest, Out!!

My Android screams like an electric sheep….

……everytime I get a notification.

Email. Twitter. Facebook. To a lesser degree, Google+. Much lesser, actually.

My life is a continuous symphony of cacaphonious alerts, reminders and ding-a-ling-a-lings.

Cacaphonious is not a real word. But its an accurate descriptor.

I can even rely upon the magical internet bunnies to provide me with updates on all the tremendously hilarious and frantically mundane things my friends are engaging themselves in.

Which brings me to a quandary.

OK, not so much a quandary, as a conundrum.

People have all different kinds of preferences.

Some like some things. Others like other things.

To each their own, as the French might say.

The internet is a veritable “choose-your-own-adventure” of http://www.whgatcanigooglenext.com in which to immerse yourself in.

I just don’t enjoy some things. I’m certain neither do any of you.

The unfortunate side effect of our expanding digital playground is that it has become commonplace to ridicule and retaliate in even the smallest measure.

How dare I exercise my social muscles by responding or commenting, especially if it is in defence of the less popular?

Because suck it up, that’s why. That certainly seems to be the common response.

I try to tread as carefully as possible. I ask myself some questions.

1) Do I actually need to involve myself in this chest-pounding circle jerk of a discussion? Or can I casually glance at it as I pass by on my way to do something more effective with my remaining time on earth? Like cleaning the toilet, or getting philosophical about wax.

2) Does my life stand to benefit in anyway by desperately pleading my two cents?

3) How much do I actually care?

4) And finally, how much excrement can I expect will levitate and gain momentum, moving expeditiously towards the nearest air conditioning unit, as a result of my involvement?

Exactly.

It seems asinine, but it’s almost as if we are better off keeping our traps shut.  Because the alternative is wading into the murky depths of Lake Inconsiderate, where sensitivity, and voicing it, is a weakness.

Of course I am all wrong here. I should probably fill out a hurt feelings report and file it under “cry baby”.

Or I could lash back out. Spew out my frustration, say my piece and flash the online hand as I log off.

I could also say nothing. I mean, only if I have nothing nice to say.

I’m not going to try and scroll the wool over your eyes. I’m not actually involved in any kind of debate.

It was the Pavlovian sing-song emitting from my mobile device that reminded me of it.

That, and the distinctive bleat of the elusive yet smarmy internet troll, twitching its nose in smug flash mob sentiment.

That shit really gets my goat. Continue reading →

Up hill. Both Ways. On the back of a shovel.

Tomorrow we return.

To backpacks and checklists.

Recess. Fun and games.

Home. And work.

The Daily Grind, before our daily grind.

Double shots of espresso, mixed with double-takes and expressions.

A new year. A new plan. A new shift. A new stroll through the same old.

The long slow climb to March Break begins.

Up hill. Both ways. On the back of a shovel.

In the thick of it….

So last night the power went out as a result of the ice storm blowing through our area.

This morning, power was restored. A large branch broke off the tree in the back yard and crunched the neighbors fence.

The world is ice, and we are all popsicles.

It brings to mind the fact that things invariably change.

Whether we want them too, or not, the tides of time and reality shift and flow over us and upon us that we can’t help but be swept forward and adapt.

The natural world is our best example. Wind blows. Rain falls. Ice forms. Snow melts.

All the world is new.

And try as we might, be it John, Peter, or Malcolm, furrowing our brows dramatically upwards towards the camera of life, we can only shrug, chuckle and accept the inevitable.

We are in the thick of it. And there is no better place to be.

Ice Ice, Baby….

There’s a storm coming.

And I mean that in most sincere, literal and figurative way.

Also, I can see it. It’s right outside the window.

Fortunately, I have the appropriate kind of footwear.

Its kind of important – appropriate footwear.

Having the right kind can determine the quality of the experience you have while going from Tab A to Slot B.

Footwear can also say a lot about a persons outlook as well. Each one is unique. You might prefer flip flops. I enjoy the snug, manly fit of a well-tailored boot.

You see, we humans are a fascinating, frustrating, magnificent and idiotic lot.

Lumbering, wibbly-wobbly bags of meat and drama that pout, party and poop, swayed by the whims of pop cultural significance, desires of the flesh and most importantly, by the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune.

We are tragic. And so much bigger on the inside.

We are all variations on a theme.  Yet we cool the jets of discontent towards each other.

Our spiteful words breeds frostbite into our hearts. We build bridges with anger and insensitivity that keep us apart, and set them alight with fires of indifference.

We freeze each other out. We rain on each others parades.

We really need to chill out.

How about we put aside the pretext of me versus you.

And acknowledge that it’s just US.

Arm in arm. Back to back. Together against the Universe.

We dont have to agree on everything. But we can accept each other, unconditionally.

Yes. It’s frustrating. It’s hard work. But I have an idea.

If I try on your flip flops, then you can try on my boots.

And then, if we can manage that, maybe we can go for a walk.

Not far. Maybe a mile or two.

Together.

In the wind. Or the rain. Or the ice. Or the snow.

Because if we are together, it doesn’t matter the weather.

Yes. I realize I said previously I don’t like the cold. It’s called an analogy.

Jeez. Have some perspective.

See what I did there?

I see what you did there.

Perspective.

It’s kind of a big deal.

Everyone has the innate ability to perceive. What they choose to do with it, is part of the challenge.

Everyday now, I read or hear about stories where people express their dismay or frustration over a news item, or a celebrity interview.

This is a wonderful thing. The communal sharing of thoughts. A brilliant side effect to the advent of human civilization.

What sucks, is our still-paralyzing inability to just accept another’s perspective without the need to erase, change or deride it.

We do not need to agree. We do not need to convert.

What we need is compassion. And a little perspective.

Rounding the corner past Seven Billion passengers on Starship Earth, in 2013, we really have very little to fallback on as an excuse for why we struggle with something so simple as communication.

We share the space. There’s no one else. At least as far as we know.

Remember kindergarten?

We’re still there. If you have something to say, raise your hand, wait your turn, and be respectful of the other kids.

Guess what? It still applies. It always applies.

Or else just shut up forever. That works too.