A Majority of Two

Today ... The Day Of Reckoning...

2012-01-28T10:52:00.000-08:00

Pandora
Odilon Redon, 1914

Today I did something I have not done for several months. Should I have done it? Well ... yes, but I wish I hadn't. Will I do it again? Now that I have done it once, unfortunately I am now committed to it and I will have to do it every day. Was it a wise decision? Probably one of the wisest I have ever made. I have been living in denial for too long now, and it's time to face my demons. Denial is an emotion we all use as a coping strategy. Denial and pretense. And avoidance. That's my particular favourite. Even if I know something to be true, and I cannot pretend any longer, I can still fall back on avoidance. Oh, I'm the queen of avoidance. We can get a lot of mileage out of avoidance, can't we? "I'll do it tomorrow." Usually those three coping strategies ~~ denial, pretense and avoidance ~~ follow each other in stages. "Me? No...!" Deny, deny, deny. Well, perhaps me, yes, but I will just pretend ... "No". But that little voice keeps whispering, and we go into avoidance mode, until we can no longer avoid the situation, and we have to admit, "Yes. Me ... Houston, we have a problem."

So, today, Saturday, January 28, 2012, I did something I have not done for several months.

I stepped on the bathroom scale.

Why did I pick today to do it? Oh, I don't know. I suppose today was as good as any day. The day of reckoning dawned, and I just decided to do it. Am I glad I did it? Yes. Was I shocked? Well ... yes and no. All through my denial, pretense and avoidance phases, that little voice in the back of my head kept whispering ... whispering. So, I really could not deny, pretend or avoid any longer.

The next step is action. Goodbye denial, pretense and avoidance. Hello action. We all know what it is we're doing wrong, and we all know what to do right. There are mountains of information available to us at our fingertips, and the weight loss industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. It becomes confusing after a while, but in simple terms, in order to lose weight we require a 1,200 calorie diet that would consist of no more than 660 calories from carbohydrates, 180 from protein, and 360 from fat. This is the premise of all weight loss diets such as Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig.

And no more Purdy's dark chocolate-covered marzipan. Or butter chicken. Or peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. At least for a while.

Oh, don't worry, this isn't going to turn into a weight-loss blog, but I will let you know how I'm doing. Wish me luck.

"Wot's A Weekend...?"

2012-01-27T08:10:00.000-08:00

It is no secret that I am madly in love with Downton Abbey. It's the most wonderful series to have been on PBS Masterpiece since Brideshead Revisited. The Brits really know how to do these things, don't they? Downtown Abbey is about life with the aristocratic Crawley Family, Lord and Lady Grantham and their three daughters, in their English manor house during the Edwardian era. It is filled with drama and intrigue, and of course scandal that could ruin a young woman's life, involving a somewhat shady *gasp* foreigner. It's all there. The cast of the series is perfect, but none is more perfect than Dame Maggie Smith as Lady Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham. She's an insufferable snob, still living in an earlier generation, but she steals every scene she's in with her wonderful one-liners. As soon as her Ladyship enters the room, we know we're in for some fun.

Lady Grantham: "You are quite wonderful the way you see room for improvement wherever you look. I never knew such reforming zeal."

Mrs. Crawley: "I take that as a compliment."

Lady Grantham: "I must've said it wrong."

If you haven't seen Downton Abbey yet, you're in for a real treat. In the meantime, here are some of her Ladyship's one-liners.

The Muddy Waters of a Wayside Ditch...

2012-01-25T13:44:00.000-08:00

Today is the 138th birthday of one of my favorite authors, W. Somerset Maugham. He was from a different era, but as with all classic writers, his work still holds up today, and many of his stories continue to be made into movies, such as "The Razor’s Edge" and "The Painted Veil". Somerset Maugham understood the human condition almost more than any other writer. His stories were tales of individual frailties, transgressions and ultimately redemption. He believed we are all capable of making errors in our lives, and we are all capable of forgiveness, not only of other people, but of ourselves. When I was a teenager, I used to read my father's collection of Somerset Maugham short stories, and one of my favorites was a story called "The Judgment Seat". It left an impression on me. I had been raised in the Anglican Church, and our Minister, Reverend Horsefield, had put the fear of God into me. As a child I thought, "How can I possibly live up to God's expectations of me?" And then I read "The Judgment Seat" and it gave me a whole new understanding of God and His expectations of the human condition. So, in honour of Maugham's birthday today, I am re-posting my favourite Somerset Maugham short story. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do.

The Judgment Seat

They awaited their turn patiently, but patience was no new thing to them; they had practiced it, all three of them, with grim determination, for thirty years. Their lives had been a long preparation for this moment and they looked forward to the issue now, if not with self-confidence, for that on so awful an occasion would have been misplaced, at all events with hope and courage. They had taken the strait and narrow path when the flowery meads of sin stretched all too invitingly before them; with heads held high, though with breaking hearts, they had resisted temptation; and now, their arduous journey done, they expected their reward. There was no need for them to speak, since each knew the other’s thoughts, and they felt that in all three of them the same emotion of relief filled their bodiless souls with thanksgiving. With what anguish now would they have been wrung if they had yielded to the passion which then had seemed so early irresistible and what a madness it would have been if for a few short years of bliss they had sacrificed that Life Everlasting which with so bright a light at long last shone before them! They felt like men who with the skin of their teeth have escaped a sudden and violent death and touch their feet and hands and, scarce able to believe that they are still are still alive, look about them in amazement. They had done nothing with which they could reproach themselves and when presently their angels came and told them that the moment was come, they would advance, as they had passed through the world that was now so far behind, happily conscious that they had done their duty. They stood a little on one side, for the press was great. A terrible war was in progress and for years the soldiers of all nations, men in the full flush of their gallant youth, had marched in an interminable procession to the Judgment Seat; women and children too, their lives brought to a wretched end by violence or, more unhappily, by grief, disease and starvation; and there was in the courts of heaven not a little confusion.

It was on account of this war, too, that those three wan shivering ghosts stood in expectation of their doom. For John and Mary had been passengers on a ship which was sunk by the torpedo of a submarine; and Ruth, broken in health by the arduous work to which she had so nobly devoted herself, hearing of the death of the man whom she had loved with all her heart, sank beneath the blow and died. John, indeed, might have saved himself if he had not tried to save his wife; he had hated her; he had hated her to the depths of his soul for thirty years; but he had always done his duty by her and now, in the moment of dreadful peril, it never occurred to him that he could do otherwise.

At last their angels took them by the hand and led them to the Presence. For a little while the Eternal took not the slightest notice of them. If the truth must be told he was in a bad humour. A moment before there had come up for judgment a philosopher, deceased full of years and honours, who had told the Eternal to his face that he did not believe in him. It was not this that would have disturbed the serenity of the King of Kings, this could only have made him smile; but the philosopher, taking perhaps an unfair advantage of the regrettable happenings just then upon Earth, had asked him how, considering them dispassionately, it was possible to reconcile his All-Power with his All-Goodness.

“No one can deny the fact of Evil,” said the philosopher, sententiously. “Now, if God cannot prevent Evil he is not all-powerful, and if he can prevent it and will not, he is not all-good.”

This argument was of course not new to the Omniscient, but he had always refused to consider the matter; for the fact is, though he knew everything, he did not know the answer to this. Even God cannot make two and two five. But the philosopher, pressing his advantage, and, as philosophers often will, drawing from a reasonable premise an unjustifiable inference, the philosopher had finished with a statement that in the circumstances was surely preposterous. “I will not believe,” he said, “in a God who is not All-Powerful and All-Good.”

It was not then perhaps without relief that the Eternal turned his attention to the three
shades who stood humbly and yet hopefully before him. The quick; with so short a time to live, when they talk of themselves, talk too much; but the dead, with eternity before them, are so verbose that only angels could listen to them with civility. But this in brief is the story that these three recounted. John and Mary had been happily married for five years and till John net Ruth they loved each other, as married couples of the most part do, with sincere affection and mutual respect. Ruth was eighteen, ten years younger than he was, a charming, graceful animal, with a sudden and all-conquering loveliness; she was as healthy in mind as she was in body, and, eager for the natural happiness of life, was capable of achieving that greatness which is beauty of soul. John fell in love with her and she with him. But it was no ordinary passion that seized them; it was something so overwhelming that they felt as if the whole long history of the world signified only because it had led to the time and place that had brought them together. They loved as Daphnis and Chloe or as Paolo and Francesca. But after that first moment of ecstasy when each discovered the other’s love they were seized with dismay. They were decent people and they respected themselves, the beliefs in which they had been bred, and the society in which they lived. How could he betray an innocent girl, and what had she to do with a married man? Then they grew conscious that Mary was aware of their love. The confident affection with which she had regarded her husband was shaken; and there arose in her feelings of which she would never have thought herself capable, jealousy and the fear that he would desert her, anger because her possession of his heart was threatened and a strange hunger of the soul which was more painful than love. She felt that she would die if he left her; and yet she knew that if he loved it was because love had come to him, not because he had sought it. She did not blame him. She prayed for strength; she wept silent, bitter tears. John and Ruth saw her pine away before their eyes. The struggle was long and bitter. Sometimes their hearts failed them and they felt that they could not resist the passion that burned the marrow of their bones. They resisted. They wrestled with evil as Jacob wrestled with the angel of God and at last they conquered. With breaking hearts, but proud in their innocence, they parted. They offered up to God, as it were a sacrifice, their hopes of happiness, the joy of life and the beauty of the world.

Ruth had loved too passionately ever to love again and with a stony heart she turned to god and to good works. She was indefatigable. She tended the sick and assisted the poor. She founded orphanages and managed charitable institutions. And little by little her beauty which she cared for no longer left hr and her face grew as hard as her heart. Her religion was fierce and narrow, her very kindness was cruel because it was founded not on love but on reason; she became domineering, intolerant, and vindictive. And John, resigned, but sullen and angry, dragged himself along the weary years waiting for the release of death. Life lost its meaning to him; he had made his effort and in conquering was conquered; the only emotion that remained with him was the unceasing, secret hatred with which he looked upon his wife. He used her with kindness and consideration; he did everything that could be expected of a man who was a Christian and a gentleman. He did his duty. Mary, a good, faithful and (it must be confessed) exceptional wife, never thought to reproach her husband for the madness that had seized him; but all the same she could not forgive him for the sacrifice he had made for her sake. She grew acid and querulous. Though she hated herself for it, she could not refrain from saying the things that she knew would wound him. She would willingly have sacrificed her life for him, but she could not bear that he should enjoy a moment’s happiness when she was so wretched that a hundred times she had wished she was dead. Well, now she was and so were they; grey and drab had life been, but that was passed; they had not sinner and now their reward was at hand.

They finished and there was silence. There was silence in all the courts of heaven. Go to hell were the words that came to the Eternal’s lips, but he did not utter them, for they had a colloquial association that he rightly thought unfitting to the solemnity of the occasion. Nor indeed would such a decree have met the merits of the case. But his brows darkened. He asked himself if it was for this that he had made the rising sun shine on the boundless sea and the snow glitter on the mountain tops; was it for this that the brooks sang blithely as they hastened down the hillsides and the golden corn waved in the evening breeze?

“I sometimes think,” said the Eternal, “that the stars never shine more brightly than when reflected in the muddy waters of a wayside ditch.”

But the three shades stood before him and now that they had unfolded their unhappy story they could not but feel a certain satisfaction. It had been a bitter struggle, but they had done their duty. The Eternal blew lightly, he blew as a man might blow out a lighted match, and, behold! where the three poor souls had stood – was nothing. The Eternal had annihilated them.

“I have often wondered why men think I attach so much importance to sexual irregularity,” he said. “If they read my works more attentively they would see that I have always been sympathetic to that particular form of human frailty.”

Then he turned to the philosopher, who was still waiting for a reply to his remarks. “You cannot but allow,” said the eternal, “that on this occasion I have very happily combined my All-Power with my All-Goodness.”

Separated At Birth ... ?

2012-01-21T23:35:00.000-08:00

Sorry ... I couldn't resist. I have been trying to think who Newt reminds me of, and some things are just too much fun to pass up.

My apologies to Gnomeo.

Hello ... Are You Still There ...?

2012-01-19T08:08:00.000-08:00

Good morning, everyone...! Are you still there? I am still here. I have been in hibernation over the past couple of weeks, reading some wonderful books, getting lots of sleep, trying to stay warm ... brrr. Have you read any good books lately? The novelist John O'Hara once wrote a collection of short stories called "Waiting for Winter". The title of the book was in reference to the fact that during the summer months he could only write short stories, and in the winter he wrote his serious books. I think that is sort of like my blogging, except just the opposite. I start to thaw when the spring months roll around. I'm not a big fan of the cold weather. I'll be back very soon.

In the meantime, please ... um ... bear with me.

Cheers!

Jo

On Being Temporarily Reclusive...

2012-01-08T22:28:00.000-08:00

If I were to win a lottery, or find a magic lamp with a genie in it, and I could wish for any sort of house to live in, this would be the house I would choose. Isn't that insane? But, it's true. There is something about this little house that I find so cozy and appealing, especially with the hollyhocks growing outside the door. I love hollyhocks and anywhere I live, I would have to grow hollyhocks. This cabin is called Dietrich Cabin and it's located in Franklin County in Kansas. It was originally built by Jacob Dietrich and his wife Catherine. After Jacob died, Catherine raised her children there. This little cabin is now a museum.

At this time of year ~~ the weeks between the frenzy of Christmas and the blooming of the daffodils ~~ I curl up in front of my fireplace and become a recluse. The interior of the Dietrich Cabin looks just about as cozy and perfect for hiding away from the world as anything could possibly be. Check out that beautiful old stone fireplace, and the rocking chair next to it. Notice the little child-sized rocking chair on the right. Isn't it cute? And you can see the gleam on the wood floors, and the solid rafters, where the dried flowers are hanging. I would take that room over a Park Avenue apartment any day.

I received three wonderful books for Christmas, and I'm enjoying them so much. One book is an Atlas of Dynasties and Royal Houses ~ right up to William and Katherine. It's wonderful. I find royalty fascinating. Another book is Jacqueline Kennedy, Historic Conversations on Life with John F. Kennedy, complete with the CDs of her voice as she is being interviewed by Arthur Schlessinger, Jr. You can even hear the traffic noise in the background, over her whispery voice. It's amazing. The third book is Colors, What They Mean and How to Make Them, which is incredibly beautiful, and has inspired me to paint again. So, that's me, curled up in the corner of my little cabin, enjoying the solitude, and peace and quiet. It's only temporary though...

The Best Thing Since ... Sliced Bread ... and Toilet Tissue

2012-01-02T20:26:00.000-08:00

Well, it's official, I have become a *women of a certain age*, you know the ones ... we all see them trekking back from the grocery store with their little carts. I have one now too, and I absolutely love it. Isn't it wonderful? Why on earth didn't I think of this sooner? It was given to me as a Christmas gift, and it's the best thing since ... well ... sliced bread ~~ which I will now be able to buy and cart home. I don't own a car, so I walk everywhere, and struggling home with armloads of groceries is not always the easiest thing to do. I can also use my cart to transport my watercolour paper, paints and brushes to my little art classes that I have signed up for in February. And now, when toilet tissue is on special, I can buy the large rolls instead of the small ones. How great is that! There's even a little pocket where I can put my wallet, lipstick and compact, and I don't have to carry a purse. My New Year's resolution this year ~~ yes I know, we all make them and we all break them ~~ is to do more walking. And now I can take my little cart with me and bring home all my purchases.

If you should happen to see a ~~little old~~ lady trekking along, a plastic hat on her head, plastic booties, her glasses on a string around her neck, and pulling a little cart behind her, please stop and say hello.

Know Any Guardian Angels...?

2011-12-30T09:15:00.000-08:00

The Guardian Angel
Pietro Da Cortona
1656

Do any of you folks believe in guardian angels? I could certainly use one right about now. I can't remember when I have ever felt so despondent. For the past several years, I have been supportive of my family through many family problems. I have assisted with what little financial support I can provide, I have assisted with resources, psychological support, time, effort, care, concern, and so much more. I have always been the person that folks can call at 3:00 in the morning, and I will be available to help with whatever help is needed. I sometimes feel like an eight-legged octopus trying to hang onto all the unravelling ends of everyone's lives. And this Christmas season has been no different. There has been stress, financial concern, psychological concern; I have been trying to keep everyone stress-free. I just want everyone to be happy. But, the realization came to me that it's all for nothing. I can't make other people happy, and I can't solve their problems for them. It is burning me out, and it's affecting my health and my job.

People often become so self-absorbed that they can't see beyond their own problems. On my birthday a few days ago, only one family member phoned me to wish me a happy birthday. All I want is for my family to actually care about me ~~ Johanna ~~ the person. It is a very lonely feeling, and today I feel unbelievably sad. Yet another family crisis has blown up, and yet again I was unable to hold the unravelling threads together. And yet again I have become the unwilling brunt of the situation. I am beginning to see a pattern of one individual using me as a tool to hurt another individual. He uses me to push buttons and to cause trouble, which seems to be a trait of other individuals in his side of the family. And there has been a pattern of it consistently since he came into our family. And he's very clever at it.

Today I am feeling rather sad, heartsick, and very, very tired. I am sorry to be such a downer, but I just needed to vent. It's very difficult to go through life feeling as if one's family doesn't care, but that is how I feel. I am not a valued member of my family. I need to distance myself, because it's better to be alone than to be constantly embroiled in someone else's turmoil, year after year, after year. If they don't like me, well ... they don't like me, and I can't change that. I always feel I am never *good enough* and I think, "If I can just be a better person, if I just be nicer, if I just do nicer things, if I help them more, maybe then they will like me..." But it doesn't work that way. I get that now. I get it. I'm a nice person, I don't need to be a better person, or nicer, or more helpful. I'm just fine the way I am, and if they don't like me, well, that's okay. I can't change it.

Okay, I finally get it.

But, I could sure use a guardian angel right about now. Or a hug.

I See ... A Rhinoceros ...!

2011-12-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

If you ever had any doubt about Woody Allen's genius, please watch Midnight in Paris, and your doubts will be dispelled. It's a wonderful movie, but more than that, Woody Allen's casting of the movie is beyond brilliant. Who else but Adrian Brody could have played Salvador Dali?

Man Ray: "A man in love with a woman from a different era. I see a photograph!"
Luis Buñuel: "I see a film!"
Gil: "I see insurmountable problem!"
Salvador Dalí: "I see a rhinoceros!"

In Midnight in Paris, our protagonist, Gil, is a struggling writer who wants to live in Paris of the 1920s ~~ the era of bathtub gin, writers, musicians, artists, poets, and all that jazz. Woody Allen's movie is populated by all of those wonderful folks ~~ Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zelda, Cole Porter, Gertrude Stein, Pablo Picasso, and so many more. Gil gets to know them on a personal level, and he learns the meaning and the struggle behind their work and their creativity, and we get to know them too. It's wonderful to see Kathy Bates as Gertrude Stein, sitting in her salon, and just above her on the wall is the famous portrait of her painted by Pablo Picasso, as she sits chatting with ~~ Pablo Picasso. I felt part of the Bohemian café society of the 1920s as they discussed poetry, art, literature...

I think we have all wondered what it would be like to live in a different era. For me, the Edwardian era is where I have always wanted to visit. I have a photo of my grandmother taken as a girl during the Edwardian era, and I have often thought I would love to travel back in time and visit with her. She lived in South Africa, and I would imagine her life to be very much like Baroness Karen von Blixen-Finecke's, also known as Isak Dinesen, the woman who wrote Out of Africa. My grandmother's parents owned a vineyard in the Paarl Valley, and she and her sisters lived a very interesting and rather privileged life. I still own some of the china and linens my family used when they lived in South Africa, and they're beautiful.

I find everything about the Edwardian era fascinating ~~ the clothes, the architecture, the culture; it was an innovative period of time politically and scientifically. Some of the most wonderful writers came out of the Edwardian era ~~ J. M. Barrie, G.K. Chesterton, Kenneth Grahame, E. M. Forster, Joseph Conrad, Rudyard Kipling, Beatrix Potter, George Bernard Shaw, H. G. Wells, P. G. Wodehouse, Kenneth Grahame, W. Somerset Maugham. During the Edwardian era, automobiles were invented, and the South Pole was reached for the first time by Roald Amundsen and then Robert F. Scott. My guilty pleasure is escaping every Sunday night to Downton Abbey, which is beginning its Season Two in January. It transports me to the Edwardian era, in all its Edwardian glory. I love it. In Midnight in Paris, the young woman with whom Gil became enamored, longed to return to La Belle Époque, which overlapped between the Victorian era and the Edwardian era. That was the period of my favourite artist, Odilon Redon. Somehow, everything seemed more beautiful in those days. If you could escape to another era, or another age, which one would you choose? Does it include a rhinoceros?

Money Can't Buy You Class

2011-12-27T12:00:00.000-08:00

To my untrained eye, these two women look very much alike. They could be sisters, and in a way, they are. Both of them have chosen to air their laundry on live television ~~ and what laundry it is. The woman on the left is Kim Richards from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, and the woman on the right is Sonja Morgan from The Real Housewives of New York City. The titles of the programs should be renamed as The Real Fishwives... because that is how they behave. My mother used to say anyone who uses the word "class" doesn't have it, and in this case it is so true. Money can't buy you happiness, and it certainly can't buy you class. These women are loaded with money, and so lacking in class it's shocking. I think that's why folks enjoy watching these shows. No matter what our circumstances are, these women make us feel better, because they're so wonderfully trashy.

On a recent re-run episode, LuAnn de Lesseps, known as Countess de Lesseps, threw a lavish party on a yacht, because she had been dating her boyfriend, Jacques Azoulay for one year. One whole year! An anniversary party. He looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, but that's another story. LuAnn's good friend, Sonja Morgan approves of LuAnn's new boyfriend. “He’s hot, he’s charming, he’s French, and if I know LuAnn, he’s good in bed!” Money can't buy you class. One of the guests on the yacht, Ramona Singer, announced to one and all that she thought she was pregnant. "My period is late, my period is late, and my boobs are like melons now!" *sigh* She spent a great deal of time in the yacht's bathroom, doing a pregnancy test. Well, isn't that what everyone does when their friend throws a one-year-dating anniversary party on a yacht?

Money can't buy you class.

I can't hardly wait until next season. These women are so ~~cheap~~, ~~tacky~~, ~~low-class~~, fabulous, they make me feel wonderful just being me.

Merry Christmas To All My Wonderful Friends ~~ Near And Far

2011-12-24T13:58:00.000-08:00

The past few weeks have been rather hectic for me, so I have been away from blogging more than I like. I hope to be back soon. But I want to take this opportunity to wish all of my wonderful friends ~~ near and far ~~ a fabulous Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. This is always a lovely time of year, when things start to wind down, we can take a deep breath, look back in retrospect at the past year, and look forward to the new year and spring. To me, spring begins when the sun goes around the Tropic of Capricorn and begins its journey back to the north, bringing more light. So, as of two days ago, the days began getting longer, and the nights shorter. It's all good. And remember, there are 12 days of Christmas, so pace yourselves. Have a wonderful time, and ((((((hugs)))))) to all of you.

"When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness." ~Bob Hope

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Love, Jo

Before ... And After ... ?

2011-12-15T10:29:00.000-08:00

Last night I watched Barbara Walters' special on the ten most fascinating people of 2011. I didn't agree with anyone on her list:
Steve Jobs, Simon Cowell, Jesse Tyler Ferguson & Eric Stonestreet, Derek Jeter, Donald Trump, Katy Perry, Pippa Middleton, Amanda Knox, Herman Cain, The Kardashians. Pippa Middleton? The Kardashians? Really? None of them fascinated me. I am, however, fascinated with the token male in the Kardashian family ~~ the once handsome Bruce Jenner. What in all that's wonderful has happened to his face? All evening I was trying to think of who he looked like, and then it came to me. He has managed to transform himself into Renee Richards, the tennis player and ophthalmologist, who was born Richard Raskind, and through sexual reassignment surgery, was transformed into a female. To my eye, Bruce Jenner's face looks more female than male as well.

Why do folks do this to themselves? Does anyone remember what Kenny Rogers looked like before he had *work* done? His smokey eyes were his main sex appeal. His face suited his voice, sort of husky, deep, a bit mysterious, and very sexy. Now? Well, sex appeal is not the first thing that comes to mind when we see his face today. He looks a bit like that creepy guy that all his friends try to set up with their wives' or girlfriends' friends. "Hey, I know this really nice guy..." Um ... no thanks.

Jane Fonda just keeps getting younger. This picture was taken four days ago, during her appearance on Piers Morgan's show. Fortunately, she has a great plastic surgeon and has managed to stay looking like ~~ Jane Fonda. On December 21st, this woman will be 74 years old, which means in six years, she will be 80. She is officially what is known as elderly, a senior. But through the miracle of modern science, she looks pretty much the same as she did when she filmed "Klute". Is this a good or a bad thing? I don't know. For me, the jury is still out on that one. Are these folks disillusioning themselves? Perhaps it's true that if people look younger on the outside, they feel younger on the inside too. In the alternative, I know folks in their 30s and 40s who claim to feel old, and their attitude about life is old as well. Perhaps age is just a number, and it's all about one's attitude towards life. The most important thing is to stayed hooked-in; don't let life pass you by.

I guess the moral of the story is, if you're going to have some work done, make sure you find a plastic surgeon who has a *before* photograph of you on the wall beside the operating table. Otherwise, you might end up looking like Kenny Rogers, or, like the unfortunate Bruce Jenner, you might end up looking like Renee Richards.

A Noisy Noise Annoys An Oyster...

2011-12-08T11:02:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday evening, I found this sign on my door. You know that straw ~~ the one that broke the camel's back? This was it. Since 2004, I have had to endure noisy neighbours. The fellow who renovated the house next door, into three separate apartments, rents only to kids from UBC and other local colleges. To give you an idea as to how young they are, the girl in question was turning 19 and she and about 50 or 60 of her closest 19 year-old friends were planning to celebrate. She was excited because now she would legally be able to drink. And drink they did. Do you know what happens to 19 year-old kids when they drink? Picture it, a group of kids are away from home for the first time. Their parents live in Winnipeg or Prince George, or in this case, Oregon. They are supplied with copious amounts of liquor. They're 19. *sigh* During the party in question last Saturday night, I finally had to tell them to shut things down ~~ at around 2:00 in the morning ~~ or I was going to call the police.

This is a photograph, taken from my bedroom window, of the remnants of a party held next door one night last August. It's just one corner of the yard. It's disgusting, and the noise was even worse. I have had an ongoing battle with the owner of the house, and it was brought to my attention recently that one of the three suites in the renovated house is an illegal suite. The owner has registered the house with the City Planning Department as a duplex, claiming the basement suite is actually part of the main floor. However, the house is in fact a triplex. He has also repeatedly denied that his tenants make any noise. This note is the smoking gun that I needed to make my case. Not only are they admitting to the noise, but they are also admitting they live in the basement suite.

The owner of the house lives in a McMansion in Port Moody far away from our neighbourhood. He has nine tenants living in the house next door, and another nine tenants in the house next door to that. He charges each tenant $700 a month. That is $12,800 a month he is collecting from a bunch of 19 year-old kids, and then he lets them loose on our neighbourhood. Long story short, my contact at the City Planning Department has informed me that the next time the owner's tenants have a loud party, both the owner and his tenants are going to be fined $250. And they will be fined $250 for each and every party thereafter.

Do I feel bad? Nope. I may be blonde, but I'm not dumb. I am very resourceful, and a force to be reckoned with when I'm angry. I'm like the Incredible Hulk ~~ "Don't make me angry, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Maybe this weekend I will get some long overdue sleep.

Are You Still There...?

2011-12-04T11:50:00.000-08:00

Woman in an Orchard, Spring Sunshine in a Field, Eragny
Camille Pissarro, 1887

Isn't this a lovely painting? It feels like spring. In just 18 days, at 5:30 a.m., the sun will swing around the Tropic of Capricorn, and will return to the northern hemisphere, bringing its warmth and light. I can hardly wait. In Ancient Rome the winter solstice festival of Saturnalia began on December 17 and lasted for seven days. It was held to honour Saturn, the father of the gods, and traditionally, everything was reversed. Businesses, schools and courts were closed, and grudges and quarrels were forgotten. Slaves were served by their masters, and wars were put on hold. Wouldn't it be lovely if everything could stay that way?

I can hardly wait for the lazy, crazy, hazy days of summer to return. This particular fall season seems to have brought out the craziness in everyone ~~ the Occupy movement, the politically correct police, the silliness of the American presidential candidacies, concerns about the Enbridge pipeline in British Columbia. It has felt rather claustophobic, to say the least. Folks all seem to be so serious, and so angry. I have been trying to spend time away from my computer, just to avoid reading about all the nonsense.

The Occupy movement has been particularly annoying. I don't think anyone disagrees with their platform ~~ whatever that is. Most people are concerned about unemployment, poverty, the environment, and more. But the Occupy movement shot themselves in the foot the instant they gathered. It was as if they said, "Okay, let's organize, and then figure out a way to really irritate the folks we're trying to reach. Oh, I know, we'll set up shantytowns in the middle of every city, we'll smoke lots of weed, play bongo drums, urinate and defecate in parks, and generally act like blithering idiots. Everyone will listen to our message if we do that, and everyone will be on our side."

Not.

There's something about the shorter days and the lessening of the light that seems to bring out the seriousness in folks. Bring back the light, bring back the sunshine. Bring back summer!

Waiting For Christmas...

2011-11-26T11:16:00.000-08:00

Waiting for Christmas
Grandma Moses
1960

If Grandma Moses were to paint this wonderful little folk art painting today, she would have to name it something else, as it would no longer be politically correct to call it "Waiting for Christmas". It would have to be named something like "Waiting for Santa", or even worse "Waiting for the Holidays". Bah humbug. Every year Christmas slips farther and farther away from us, until it has become something we don't recognize anymore.

As a teenager, I read George Orwell's "1984" and it disturbed me so much, it stayed with me. I remember thinking, "Thank goodness we live in a civilized world where such things could never happen". But they have happened, and are happening now. There is a dictionary of "1984" Newspeak, and it is chillingly similar to much of the politically correct language we use today.

Newspeak - The official language of Oceania. Newspeak is "politically correct" speech taken to its maximum extent. Newspeak is based on standard English, but all words describing "unorthodox" political ideas have been removed.

Oldthink - Holding on to old ideas and patterns of thought not consistent with current government policy. Maintaining a belief that is no longer acceptable, but was normal just a few years prior.

Crimethink - To even consider any thought not in line with the principles of Newspeak. All crimes begin with a thought. So, if you control thought, you can control crime.

Sound familiar? We have allowed this to happen. I know people ~~ real, live actual people ~~ who are afraid to say the word Christmas. "Shhh, you can't say that word."

It's still only November, but the stores are filled with ~~Christmas~~ Holiday decorations and music, the television is filled with ~~Christmas~~ Holiday advertisements and slogans ~~ "Give like Santa, save like Scrooge".

Bah humbug!

I want Christmas back. My Christmas. The one that feels magical just saying the word Christmas. It has an aura about it that evokes the smell of cinnamon and pine trees and a crackling fire. Oh, I know, I know, it was originally a Pagan celebration of light, and we ursurped it and turned it into something else. I get that. But most cultural holidays have evolved in one way or another. I just don't want my Christmas evolving into something crass and sterile, like Pottersville in "It's a Wonderful Life".

In our culturally sensitive world, we celebrate the holidays of all folks ~~ Ramadan, Rosh Hashanah, Diwali, Yom Kippur, Tet Nguyen Dan, Chinese New Year, Hanukkah ~~ and so many more. We would never dream of asking them to change the name of their cultural festivals, just to accommodate us. Why on earth are we doing it to accommodate other folks? Whether we are Christian, non-Christian or atheist, it is not *Holiday*, it is Christmas, and it is celebrated by over one-third of the world's population.

I love everything about Christmas. It's a really lovely time of the year. Next Thursday is December 1st, and I can hardly wait for Christmas. Let the fun begin.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American Friends

2011-11-24T10:19:00.000-08:00

The First Thanksgiving

Jean Louis Gerome Ferris

I am still having trouble on and off logging onto Blogger. Argh. In any case, Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends. I hope everyone is spending today with folks they love, and are having a wonderful meal, perhaps watching some football, and then a lovely, long snooze. Enjoy, everyone!

JKF ~~ 48 Years Later

2011-11-22T08:07:00.000-08:00

Today is the 48th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, and yes, I can remember where I was what I heard the news. JFK was the first president to have been born in the 20th century and his presidency was a pivotal turning point in history ~~ the civil rights movement, the Peace Corps, the Space Race, the beginning of the Vietnamese war ~~ all defining moments that changed who we are. If JFK were running for the presidency today, would he be a feasible candidate? The way we scrutinize nominees for any office, I doubt very much whether he would survive his life being put under the microscope; he definitely had feet of clay, and he had made mistakes both before and during his presidency.

In the fullness of time, I think President Kennedy is best remembered for how he stared down Premier Kruschev and the USSR between October 14 and October 28, 1962. That was the closest the world has ever come to annihilating itself. It took a man of great courage to do what he did. I remember my mother was hanging her laundry on the line, and before she could finish, she came inside, sat down on her chair, and stayed there until the crisis was over. She believed it was the end for all of us, and in her own way she was making peace with the world's demise. The Secretary General of the United Nations, U Thant, asked both Kruschev and Kennedy to have a cooling off period. Kruschev said yes, Kennedy said no. He insisted the U.S. Navy would stop and inspect all Soviet ships arriving off Cuba, beginning October 24. After one Soviet ship was stopped and boarded, on October 28 Khrushchev agreed to dismantle the missile sites subject to UN inspections, and the crisis was averted. My mother got up out of her chair.

It took a man of great strength to do what Kennedy did. It was the ultimate game of *chicken* and he won. That is true leadership. It is rare to see leadership like that today. Folks are too busy trying to please everyone. It is for that strength and leadership that JFK will be remembered.

Secrets, Lies and Promises...

2011-11-19T11:52:00.000-08:00

Drinker
Toulouse Lautrec
1889
Museum: Toulouse-Lautrec Museum

How do you tell someone that their drinking is ruining their life, and the lives of everyone who loves them? How do you stop pretending that no one knows and that no one is being hurt by it? Secrets, lies and promises... It has not been a secret for years, and now that it is progressing, people cannot continue with the lies anymore. The sad thing is, no one is being judgmental, just extremely sad ~~ and powerless to help.

Alcoholism is not a solitary disease; it is insidious and has a long-lasting ripple effect on everyone in the alcoholic's life. The alcoholic drinks and their loved ones suffer. Alcoholism is a progressive disease, and as it progresses and destoys the alcoholic's life, it takes down everyone else in its path. And, the most destructive aspects of alcoholism are the secrets, the denials and the promises, especially the promises. When parents drink to excess, it robs children of their innocence.

Alcoholism can ~~ and does ~~ happen to anyone. Some folks can drink socially for years and not become *hooked* on alcohol, while others can become addicted after just a few drinks. It is easy to understand the *hows* and *whys* of why a person starts drinking. Sometimes it's to cover pain and unhappiness; sometimes it's just the *occasional nip* to endure an otherwise unendurable situation. Sometimes it's to bolster one's confidence when a person is feeling insecure, lonely or confused about a situation. Sometimes it's just to get through the evening. Unfortunately, there comes a time in the process when the little nip becomes something much more, and the alcohol takes over. The once funny, bright, warm-hearted individual becomes irritable, angry and mean-tempered ~~ their personality changes and they are no longer themselves, but an alcohol-infused ogre. And the sad thing is, often they are not even aware.

Trying to describe the process of becoming an alcoholic is like trying to describe air. It’s too big and mysterious and pervasive to be defined… [T]here is no simple reason it happens, no single moment, no physiological event that pushes a heavy drinker across a concrete line into alcoholism. It’s a slow, gradual, insidious, elusive becoming. Caroline Knapp ~~ "Drinking: A Love Story"

I had a close friend who was an alcoholic, and I sat by and watched her life deteriorate, like a slow-motion train wreck. I could not help her. One day she came to me and said she had joined AA and was determined not to let alcohol have any more power over her life. Since then, I have watched her life blossom in her sobriety. To me, alcoholism is the darkness, and sobriety is the light.

The disease of alcoholism is not something to be ashamed of. In the 21st Century, we have become enlightened about so many diseases, including the disease of alcoholism. It no longer carries the stigma that it once did, and thank God for that, because it is in pretending the disease doesn't exist that people suffer. Like any disease, alcoholism can be treated and cured. The first step on that journey is removing the denial and the secrets. The second step on the journey is to accept just how badly it is affecting one's life, and especially the lives of the people who love that person. The third step is to do whatever it takes to stop drinking, before any more damage is done ~~ to everyone.

To anyone who has become caught in the trap of alcoholism, I say, please get help. The life you are slowly but surely destroying is not only your own, but all of the people who love you.

Mutilation By Mirror...

2011-11-15T21:38:00.000-08:00

There is a show on television called "1000 Ways to Die", but I have never watched it because the premise of it seems too morbid to me. According to Wikipedia, "1000 Ways to Die is a docufiction anthology television series. The program recreates unusual supposed deaths and debunked urban legends and includes interviews with experts who describe the science behind each death. Up until the end of season one, the final story of each episode showed actual footage of dangerous situations that almost ended in death, along with interviews with people involved in the situations. A portion of these deaths have been nominated for or have received a Darwin Award. A frequently recurring motif is that of unsympathetic individuals' choices backfiring on them, resulting in death. The show is filled with black humor (particularly in the narration) which tempers the otherwise somber theme of death. It portrays the deaths using live-action recreations of the events along with expert and sometimes witness testimony, also using graphic CGI animations, similar to those used in the popular TV show CSI, to illustrate the ways people have died." Well, they can add one more unusual way to die to that list: death by mirror.

I have a large plate glass mirror in my bathroom. I have lived here for 14 years, and only recently I noticed the mirror was slanting forward. At first I thought the room was crooked, and then I realized the mirror was not properly anchored and was beginning to tilt forward from the top, and was slowly leaning away from the wall. I was able to push it back until it was secured between the side wall and the shower, and then I phoned a handyman to come in and fix it. Immediately. When he fixed it, he said that it had never been properly glued to the wall. I have been living with that mirror hanging over my head ~~ literally ~~ for the past 14 years, and it could have come crashing down at any time. And that thing is heavy.

Can you imagine? You're sitting on the *throne* just ~~doing~~ minding your own business, and *boom* ~~ death by mirror. Make that "1001 Ways to Die".

What Is A Community...?

2011-11-15T10:48:00.000-08:00

What defines a community? A broad definition of a community is "a group of interacting people, possibly living in close proximity, and often refers to a group that shares some common values, and is attributed with social cohesion within a shared geographical location, generally in social units larger than a household. The word can also refer to the national community or international community." A city is a community. Folks who live within a community understand that, in order to have cohesion and mutual respect, there must be laws in place to protect every member of the community, and it is the responsibility of each member of that community to obey those laws. Also within that community are certain right and freedoms. A perfect community is one in which the laws are counter-balanced by the rights and freedoms. Everyone knows what is expected of them. It is on that basis that I object to the invasion of my community by a group of people who claim to represent me. They do not. They are, in fact, holding me hostage in my own community.

The balance sheet for the Occupy movement has not been in their favour. In most cases, the original organizers have bailed, and the sites have been hijacked by less savoury folks. There have been drug overdoses, deaths, rapes, murder, and a rise in crime in the districts close to the occupation sites. In Vancouver, the street vendors and business owners were interviewed, and all of them report a 40% drop in their business since the occupation began. The occupiers are actually hurting the 99% of the folks they pretend to be helping. A few days ago, a city worker was doused with urine when one of the occupiers tossed it out of his tent. The Vancouver site stinks to high heaven of feces, urine and other odors which are unidentifiable. It's a slum. Under what condition is that acceptable, ever, in any civilized community?

Last night, the mayor of New York ordered the OWS site to be dismantled, and to everyone's amazement, a judge ordered it back. That does not bode well for the injunction application against the site in Vancouver. My question is, what happened to the rights of the citizens of the community that these occupations are harming. The message of the *occupation* has been lost, and the majority of folks want the tents taken down. The occupiers have no one to blame but themselves for how badly their movement degenerated into something negative and pointless. Did they really think that sitting in stinking, fetid tents, getting stoned and playing bongo drums would bring governments, corporations and regular, hard-working folks to their knees? In fact, it had the opposite effect.

Most of their message was actually one with which I agree. We ~~ all of us ~~ need to do more to help folks who are less fortunate than ourselves. But making general, sweeping demands is not the way to do it. It has only created an "us" or "them" mentality; if you're not with us, you're against us. That is a form of emotional blackmail, a passive aggressive attitude that has torpedoed their movement rather than convince us to get on board. It has made me really angry, and I have posted about this twice in the past few days because I want those slums out of my community. They don't represent me, or anyone else I know. The folks who are sworn to uphold the laws ~~ for all of us ~~ need to do whatever has to be done to restore our community to the true majority of folks who live here and abide by the laws of the city.

I'm Baaaaaack

2011-11-13T08:49:00.000-08:00

For some strange reason, I have not been able to log onto my Blogger account for the past week. It wouldn't accept my password. So I have been unable to post here, or to post comments on all your wonderful blogs. But today, et voila! it's working again. So, this is just a brief note to say hello, and to show you my new ~~ghastly~~ rain hat. Isn't it a hoot? I'm definitely not a hat person, but with all the torrential rains we have been getting lately, a hat has become a necessity here in Vancouver. I have always chuckled at people who wear hats *ironically*. Some hats are sort of like the ironic beards men have effected lately. You know they're wearing them just as a way to say, "Look at me, look at me..." The Tilley Endurable hat is the most ironic of them all, and it makes a statement about the wearer: "I've been to Africa; I've been to Australia, you can tell by my hat..." I actually thought about buying a Tilley Endurable hat, but then I thought the irony of it would be just a little too pretentious. So, I ended up with this gawd-awful thing. But, hey ... it works. I wore it in the pouring rain yesterday, it kept me dry, and best of all, when I took it off, I didn't have hat hair. All in all, a good investment.

It's lovely to see you all again. I'll be back soon.

Cheers,

Jo

The Young Man

2011-11-05T11:46:00.000-07:00

Young Man With a Blue Cap
Vincent Van Gogh
1888

Young men in caps and hoodies always make me nervous. There is something slightly sinister and foreboding, particularly about hoodies, especially if there is a baseball cap underneath the hoodie. I always suspect the young fellow is up to no good, so I was a bit apprehensive when I saw the young man walk into the restaurant yesterday. It was Friday, the end of the week, and I didn't feel like cooking, so I stopped at a McDonald's for a hamburger and root beer. Shhhh... don't tell anyone, but I also occasionally ~~ as in once every six months ~~ like to have an A & W momma burger. Anyway, the place was crowded, and I managed to snag the last remaining table. The young man came in, took his order, and walked around the restaurant with his tray, eyeing my table. He circled twice, and then came back and asked if I would mind sharing my table with him.

He didn't appear to be the type of person I would necessarily want to break bread with, so I made some sort of motion with my hands, and said, "No, I would rather not..." but he didn't understand me, and he thought I had said, 'No, I don't mind..." So, he sat down. I sighed and continued eating. And then I glanced over at him, and underneath the baseball cap and the hoodie was a very sweet face. He was about 22 or 23 and had a lovely expression. I immediately felt very bad, so I said, "This restaurant is very crowded this afternoon", trying to make up for my earlier rejection. He features immediately relaxed, and he smiled and said, "Yes, it is". He had an unusual accent, and I think perhaps he was from a country in South America. I wanted to ask him where he was from, but I wasn't sure if he wanted to be drawn into a conversation. So I finished my hamburger, and as I got up to leave, I smiled at him and said, "Enjoy your meal". He smiled a very sweet, open smile, and I left.

Afterwards, as I was heading home, I felt very bad about the whole encounter. I could have been more friendly. I could have made him feel welcome. Perhaps he was a visitor here, and he wanted to interact with someone from the country he was visiting. My own brother has travelled to many countries throughout the world, including South America, Asia, Africa and all throughout Europe. He always had stories of the people he met there, and the conversations he had had with them. Here was my opportunity to be part of this young man's story of his visit to Canada, and I missed it.

How many of us do this? I'm as guilty as anyone. I size people up by how they appear, how they dress, or how they present themselves. I wonder how many times I have been completely wrong. That young man had the courage to sit at my table; I should have at least had the courage to be more friendly and outgoing towards him.

“Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends.” ~~ Shirley MacLaine

Occupy Vancouver ~~ What Am I Missing?

2011-11-03T08:18:00.000-07:00

The words "occupy" and "demand" are two words I have a problem with. In my opinion, they are not the words of democracy, and in that regard, I am having difficulty understanding the Occupy Movement. They claim to be peaceful, but my feeling is that in fact they are passive aggressive, which is the most malevolent type of aggression. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help me to understand why I should be sympathetic towards this movement. So far, I am not, and I am moving farther away from any understanding as the days pass.

According to the October 14th issue of Time Magazine [page 22], "The movement started in Canada, of all places. The editors of Vancouver-based anticonsumerist magazine Adbusters called for a Tahrir Square 'moment' on September 17 in lower Manhattan to protest what they called the disproportionate power of the U.S. corporate elite."

It started in Canada? Oh, good grief, those rabble-rousing Canadians. The only problem is, Canada is not in the same economic situation that many other countries are in, including the US ~~ not even close. Canada did not have a housing bubble, and did not have a housing collapse. We did not have mortgage failures. Our banks did not get overextended, did not have to be bailed out, and are still lending. Unemployment and poverty are not rising in Canada, but are actually lower than at any other time since the 1960s. There are so many jobs in Alberta, Canada's immigration department is fast-tracking applicants from other countries who want to come here to apply for work.

So, what am I missing?

So far, the only effect I have seen of the Occupy Movement is that the Dean of St. Paul's Cathedral in London has been forced to step down. "In recent days, since the arrival of the protesters' camp outside the cathedral, we have all been put under a great deal of strain and have faced what would appear to be some insurmountable issues. I hope and pray that under new leadership these issues might continue to be addressed and that there might be a swift and peaceful resolution." St. Paul's Cathedral has done more to help the less fortunate of London over the centuries, than any ragtag band of people living in fetid stinky tents. The church saved people's lives during the blitz of World War II. Again, what am I missing?

A list of Occupy Vancouver's demands are here, if you care to read them. I don't blame you if you don't. Some of them are so out-of-date that I wonder if these folks are actually in touch with the 21st Century. I love number 17: Repeal the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act. All synthetic drugs and hard drugs (including cocaine and heroin) should be distributed by prescription through a pharmacist. All botanical drugs should be distributed like coffee beans. Human medical autonomy must now be respected by all.

My favourite is number 11: "The CBC should get enough funding so it can go commercial free and not have to depend on big business for advertizing. Then it can be truly independent." Well, we all want that, don't we? I mean, wouldn't it be wonderful to watch Coronation Street all the way through, without commercials?

Oh, good lord...

Every year in December, the Santa Claus Christmas Parade is the biggest fundraiser for the Vancouver Food Bank. This year it is being disrupted by Occupy Vancouver. The street vendors and other businesses around the encampment report that their business is down by 40% since the "occupation" and their livelihoods are being threatened. So, the very people these "occupiers" claim they want to help, are the very people who are in fact being detrimentally affected ~~ by Occupy Vancouver. And to add to their credibility, one of the occupiers overdosed on drugs at the Occupy Vancouver site last night.

*sigh*

As I said, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to convince me why I should support these folks. I have an open mind, so, you don't need to agree with my point of view. I really, really want to know what it is that I am missing. So far, I am not convinced. So, please convince me.

Update: OccupyVancouver protesters given until 10 am tomorrow to remove all tarps, unoccupied tents & open flame heat sources by Vancouver Fire Department.

Separated At Birth

2011-11-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, when I read that Kim Kardashian had filed for divorce, I saw a picture of her with her soon-to-be ex-husband. When I saw the picture, I thought, "Hey, wait a minute ... Kim Kardashian was married to the guy from the Twilight movies...? How did I miss that...?" It is the same guy, isn't it? I must have missed that marriage, because I blinked and it was gone. I need a program to keep up with all these folks who flash across the screen and then fade back into oblivion again. At one time, I actually thought Kim Kardashian and Snookie were the same person. Who are these people? I mean who are these people? They show up on the covers of magazines, the headlines on CNN and other news sites, countless TV programs, and I really have no idea who they are. These folks are all interchangeable, aren't they?

Kim Kardashian just received about a kajillion dollars for airing her wedding on television, and another bazillion dollars for selling the photos to various magazines. I don't think the ink was even dry on the cheques yet, before she announced her divorce ~~ and it was the top headline news yesterday. Does anyone care?

Who are these people?

(Does anyone else think these two guys look exactly alike...? Or is it just me?)

Seven Billion People ... And Counting

2011-10-31T08:05:00.000-07:00

As of today, October 31, 2011, the population of our planet has reached 7 billion people. And yet, as we speak, folks in cities all over the world are sitting in fetid tents in squalid encampments, protesting that they don't have a big enough piece of the pie. Well, the pie just got a whole lot smaller. Unfortunately, the areas of the world least equipped to accommodate extra people are the areas where population is expanding at the most rapid rate. In North America, however, the population is expanding so slowly, governments are concerned about maintaining productivity. In the bigger picture, the earth is made up of the *haves* and the *have-nots*. As we edge even more quickly to the 8 billion mark, here are some things to consider.

In 1974, the population of the earth was 4 billion, and in just under 30 years, we have almost doubled. China makes up 19% of the world's population. 50.4% of the world's population are male, and 50.5% of the world's population live in cities. One in three of those city dwellers lives in a slum. The median age of the world's population is 29. A staggering 73% of the world's population does not use the internet. One in eight of the world's population is undernourished. One in three of the world's population lacks a hygienic toilet. The birthrate in Germany, Canada, Russia, Australia and Brazil hovers between 1.4 and 1.9. The birthrate in the United States is 2.5. The birth rate in Niger is 7.2.

According to an article in this week's Time Magazine, the earth has enough resources for everyone on the planet, the resources are just not being distributed to everyone. People don't have access to resources because of extreme poverty and corrupt government regimes. I am fortunate enough to live in a country that did not have a housing bubble or any housing collapse or mortgage failures. Our banks did not get overextended, did not have to be bailed out, and are still lending. Unemployment and poverty remain lower than at any other time since the 1960s. There are so many jobs in Alberta, the immigration department is fast-tracking immigrants from other countries who apply here for work. Our country is really one of the more fortunate ones.

The economic crisis is world-wide and impacts everyone on the planet, but probably none more so than the billions of people who live in extreme poverty. We need to slow down the population expansion before we hit 8 billion, in 14 years.

Do You Know Where That Hand Has Been...?

2011-10-27T08:16:00.000-07:00

Donald Trump once said he would never shake hands with anyone, because he "didn't know where that hand has been". Ew... think about it. It's true. A study reported yesterday that the dirtiest thing people touch on an ongoing basis is the handle at the gas pump. According to the study by Kimberly Clark, "People have a 71 per cent chance of picking up a dirty pump when filling up. Mailbox handles come in at 68 per cent, escalator railings at 43 per cent, ATM buttons at 41 per cent, parking metres at 40 per cent, crosswalk buttons and vending machines at 35 per cent."

Ew...

With global travel, it's easy for microbes from one side of the globe to hitch a ride to the other side of the globe. Our immune systems may not necessarily have built up an immunity to foreign microbes, so we get sick. I'm not a germaphone ~~ per se ~~ but I am aware when I am in a restaurant that the salt and pepper shaker or the ketchup bottle are handled throughout the day by hundreds of other people. So, if I pick up the ketchup bottle and put ketchup on my French fries, and then pick up the fries with my bare hands and put them in my mouth, I have just created the perfect transmission for whatever is living on that ketchup bottle.

Some of the epidemiologists where I work have just completed a study on the mechanisms of contagion, and the study is going to be published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. For several weeks, each of us had to wear a medallion with a chip in it, and we were tracked throughout the office. One of the medallions had an "infected" chip in it, in order to track the infection. No one knew who the "infected" person was. However, in our office, that study isn't necessary. We have one or two people who always come to work sick, and almost always infect their co-workers. The hours of manpower lost is off the chart.

How many of us are aware to wash our hands after touching bank machines, elevator buttons, debit and credit card devices, escalators, bannisters, etc.? We go to the movies, pay for our tickets and buy a lovely, hot, buttery container of popcorn ~~ paying cash. Then we go and sit in the movie theatre and stick our hands into the popcorn.

Ew...

It's true; when we shake hands with someone, we don't know where that hand has been. But moreover, we don't know how many folks we will go on to infect, perhaps not getting sick ourselves. The study of contagion fascinates me. I can hardly wait to read our researchers' publication in JAMA.

Purell is my friend...

Greetings...

2011-10-25T15:42:00.000-07:00

Hello, everyone. No, I have not disappeared completely, I have been feeling a teeny, tiny bit under the weather. Typhoid Mary has struck our office again ~~ this time with a new and improved bug. *cough*

Whenever I get a cold, I am unable to sleep. So I am spending the day curled up under my fluffy white duvet.

*achoooo*

I will be back very soon. Try not to have too much fun without me.

Cheers,

Jo

Craigslist Free Stuff...! Part Two...

2011-10-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I'm bored and need a chuckle, I like to look through the Craigslist Free Stuff. Yes, I know, I need to get a life. But the Free Stuff ads on Craigslist are some of the best ways to spend ~~half an hour~~ ten minutes for a free laugh. It's mind-boggling the things that people actually give away ~~ for free. What's even more mind-bloggling is the fact that people actually go and pick these things up, and take them home. Through the magic of advertising, everyone's flotsam and jetsam can be circulated from one household to another. Who knew! Here are some of this week's ~~junk~~ treasures, complete with their descriptions.

"Male Crested Gecko - approximately one year old. Adoption fee is $25."

Well, that's just false advertising. First of all, it's not free, and second, why would anyone give away such a ~~cute~~ little creature? Can you just imagine that little face staring at you over the breakfast table? It's like a snake with legs.

"Rock surrounding the fireplace. You remove."

Actually, I rather like the look of the stone in this fireplace, and I can't imagine anyone giving it away ~~ for free. It's rustic and very West Coast looking. It would look lovely in my cabin up at Whistler Mountain, don't you agree? I think I just might rush over there today with my back hoe and pick this little item up. Oh, wait, I don't have a cabin at Whistler Mountain ... or a back hoe. Darn the luck.

"Lou is a mean cat. She will probably bite and scratch you. She will pee on your carpet. She will not go out of the house. She is spayed. She has to go to new owners."

Well, that just says it all about poor old Lou. Will anyone give her a good home after that endorsement? I have a feeling that, sadly, Lou's days are numbered. Truth in advertising... Poor Lou.

"A new (used once) ankle brace. I rolled my ankle playing soccer but ended up not needing this brace. This is a medium brace for the right leg. You pick up..."

Just what we all need, right? A (used once) ankle brace. I'll bet there's a rush on this little item.

Can anyone see what's wrong with this picture? Anyone? I know you're all observant. What's wrong with this picture? Anyone?

Anyone?

The following is my personal favourite. It is a novella, complete with a back story all in one advertisement:

"I have a wooden mirror similar to the picture for pick up - except mine doesn't have the fancy carved artwork, however mine does have a small drawer at the bottom. I don't know wood all that well, but I'd say it's a Cedar/Red Pine colour?? Mirror can tilt 360. Currently the mirror is not assembled. It's in near-excellent condition, except that I have disassembled and reassembled it so many times (I move a lot) that the screw-holes have been worn through. A handyman could simply fill the current holes, re-screw them and VOILA - Good as new. I have all the pieces & screws. I've kept it in my closet for THREE YEARS waiting on a promise from my boyfriend to fix it for me because I love it. However, that never happened, and now I'm tired of it collecting dust. Pick up available today after 4:00 pm."

What, the mirror or the boyfriend?

Craigslist Free Stuff ~~ check it out.

Unconditional Love...

2011-10-20T13:14:00.000-07:00

Several of my friends have pets who are ill at the moment, and may perhaps be in their final illness. My heart breaks for my friends, because I know how much we can love our pets, and how much our pets love us ~~ unconditionally. They are our best companions, never judging, never asking for more than we can give, always affectionate, always ready to please. All they ask from us is our attention, love, and perhaps some food and water ~~ definitely food and water. That's a pretty good quid pro quo.

When my brothers and I were growing up on Vancouver Island, our home was almost a menagerie. We had the usual dogs and cats, and my brothers ~~ both animal lovers ~~ were always rescuing stray animals, much to my mother's consternation. Fortunately, we had a large closed-in back porch, which was turned into an animal hospital on a regular basis. My father loved dogs, and we would often have two or three following along behind us. The dog in this picture ~~ Shep ~~ insisted on having his picture taken with us, and my brother had to hold him still because he was such a show-off. My brother went into a deep depression when Shep passed away, and refused to love another dog. That is, until he met Sporty, our border collie. Then it was love at first sight ~~ again.

One of the more unusual animals we had in our menagerie was a baby bear. His mother had been accidentally killed by loggers, and he was found crying in a hollow log. My father, ever the softy for baby animals, agreed to look after him. Of course, the task ended up being done by my mother, and she used to feed the little bear with a baby bottle from one of my dolls. The little bear cried just like a human baby, and loved being cuddled and rocked ~~ just like a human baby. Unfortunately, baby bears grow very quickly, and he soon became too big for us to look after him any longer. My father gave him to the forest ranger, who raised the bear to adulthood. Our little baby bear, when full grown, was often seen picking berries on the lakeshore road. We always called him "our bear", because he had stolen our hearts forever.

Another unusual little creature we had in our care was a North American Murre, a cousin to the penguin. He blew into our town on a huge typhoon storm that came in from the Pacific Ocean, and once again, one of my brothers rescued him and brought him home. My mother set up a galvanized wash tub full of water for him to paddle in, but he much preferred following her around the house while she did her chores. He could be seen padding along behind her on his little two feet, like a small child. He had a strange little call that sounded almost like a seal barking, and whenever my mother was out of his sight, he was grievously anxious until he could find her again. What a cacophony... He especially loved the warm laundry basket, and if we couldn't find him, we knew where to look. There he would be, buried under the towels and face cloths, having a snooze. Our little murre lived with us throughout the stormy winter, and in the spring my father released him back onto the open ocean. However, my mother had bonded with this strange little creature, and she missed him for months afterwards.

At one point we also had a shrew (or mole). He was an odd little thing, and he lived in an Eddy's matchbox filled with cotton wool. We called him "Moley", and the only food Moley ate was live spiders. So my father and brothers had to dig around underneath the porch, armed with tweezers, in order to bring Moley his dinner. They would slide the match box open, call "Here Moley, Moley, Moley..." and a little snout would pop out, grab the spider, and retreat back into the cotton wool. I'm not sure why we had this little fellow in our possession, but we all loved him. My father took the little mole outdoors and released him to the spider smörgåsbord underneath the porch, where he could dine to his heart's delight.

My favourite dog was Maggie, our Scottish terrier. Her full name was Margaret McTavish of Windbrae, and when we first brought her home, she was a fierce little thing. My mother and I were always jumping onto chairs, to avoid Maggie's sharp little teeth. She mellowed as she got older, but she was still fiercely protective of our home. Her bark, however, was much bigger than her bite. A special treat for Maggie was to sit in front of the fireplace in the evenings. Like all dogs, Maggie loved car rides, and she especially loved going to the lake. A friend of mine had a pier and diving board out over the lake, and Maggie loved taking a flying leap off the diving board. Then she would paddle to shore, run along the pier and take another flying leap off the diving board. We were all heartbroken when Maggie was no longer with our family.

My most recent pet was a Siamese cat named Samantha. Oh, goodness ... what can I say about Samantha. She was evil, she was wicked ... she was the most wonderful cat I have ever known and I adored her. She didn't know she was a cat, and I didn't have the heart to tell her. Whenever I chatted on the telephone with any of my friends, Samantha would stomp up and down beside me, hollering, "Oh, yah! Oh, yah! Oh, yah!" My friends would ask, "Who the heck is that?" Of course, after a while, they knew not to ask. Siamese cats are famous for "adopting" other people, and Samantha assumed everyone in the neighbourhood was "hers". I would often get a telephone call from one of my neighbours saying, "Um ... Jo, your cat is sleeping on my chesterfield again; can you come and get her?" I cried for two weeks straight when my bad old Samantha was no longer with me. I still miss her, and sometimes I can see her, out of the corner of my eye, looking for some way to get into mischief.

My heart goes out to my friends who may be losing their wonderful companions. I wish there were something I could do to ease their pain, but I know from experience there is nothing I can do. We have all felt it. Unconditional love.

Are You A Twit...?

2011-10-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

I love the word Twitter, don't you? It sounds like something old Aunt Agatha would say when she's had one too many glasses of sherry.

"Ohhh, I feel all a-twitter..."

It's a silly word, and it really does describe the practice of tweeting. On Twitter.

I have to admit, I have a Twitter account. I have used it once. It just seems silly to me ~~ almost like a form of Tourette's syndrome, where people are shouting out strange utterances, but they're doing it on line.

"I'm drinking a cup of coffee!"

"I'm driving to Spuzzum to visit my cousin Betty-Lou!"

"I'm out of toilet paper!"

Omigawd, how did we survive without announcing our every waking thought and action?

In 2009 an American research company analyzed Twitters' tweets, with the following results:

Pointless babble – 40%
Conversational – 38%
Pass-along value – 9%
Self-promotion – 6%
Spam – 4%
News – 4%

From what I have read of Twitter posts, it's more like 90% pointless babble. It's a very strange phenomenon that this is how the human race has been reduced to communicate. As of 2011, 200 million users were generating over 200 million tweets per day. What I want to know is, what the h*ll are they all saying? When Michael Jackson died on June 25, 2009, Twitter servers crashed after users were updating their status to include the words "Michael Jackson" at a rate of 100,000 tweets per hour.

Twitter messages are completely open to anyone in the public who wants to log on and read the *tweets* written by *twits*. And some of it is ... well ... very personal. If someone has, say, 400 followers, whatever that person tweets broadcasts out to those 400 people and their followers too. We share our deepest, darkest secrets with "friends" and often we don't know their real names or where they live. We know them only by their monikers and their avatars, and yet somehow we trust them ~ and 400 of their closest "friends" ~~ with our confidences. Where did this come from, this need to be hooked in with so many people from all over the globe ~~ people who are, to all intents and purposes, complete strangers to us?

A friend of mine was quite a philosopher, and he believed that it was just possible that mankind was simply a collection of bits inside a giant computer. His philosophy pre-dated the Matrix movies, but had much the same idea. He felt we are plugged into something much bigger than we are, and we are just imagining our existance. He surmised that we are the components that go into making a separate entity, and that the entity needs us, much as our bodies need cells. We were the cells in the entity. It made for interesting discussions, but the more I think about how we are all so closely connected by computers, the more I am beginning to realize my friend's theory may not have been all that unusual.

My Twitter account will stay disabled, mostly because I find the whole premise of it just slightly creepy. Do I really want to know Demi Moore's private thoughts about Ashton Kutcher? Or that Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber have the most followers? Or that the vapid Kim Kardashian has almost as many followers as the President of the United States? Do I really care about these people?

No. I guess I'm a twit...

A Beautiful Day In The Neighbourhood...

2011-10-18T08:17:00.000-07:00

The sun is just beginning to rise over English Bay, and there's the promise of a new day. Like a fresh piece of paper, a new day is a chance to make a fresh mark, start anew, and perhaps even learn from the mistakes we made yesterday. No, I haven't started wearing cardigan sweaters and f*rting rainbows... I just think a beautiful new day like this is full of so many possibilities, don't you? Let's make the most of this beautiful day. Go out and make it a good one, boys and girls.

Beyond Here, There Be Dragons...

2011-10-16T10:13:00.000-07:00

The story I am about to share with you is one I have never told another living soul ~~ until now. It is up to you to decide whether or not you believe it, but it is a true story. It was something I experienced as a child, and as every child knows, not all their stories are necessarily accepted as the truth. And that is why I have never told my story. I convinced myself, as well, that it was something that I had imagined, it had not actually happened, and it was consigned to that area of my brain known as ~~ perhaps ~~ unreality. But now that I am of *a certain age* I can remember that it did indeed happen; I did not imagine it.

When I was growing up on Vancouver Island, my parents decided to build a home on the edge of a dense old growth forest. It was a beautiful old forest of Sitka spruce, western red cedar and Douglas fir. Every weekend we cleared the trees and burned the underbrush in a bonfire. My mother loved roasted potatoes, so she used to bring potatoes and throw them into the fire to roast. We would have a picnic of cold chicken, hot coffee and roasted potatoes from the bonfire. It was delicious. My mother kept some of the giant ferns growing in the underbrush and later planted them in her garden. My father saved a couple of the old growth trees, and they shaded our house when it was built. My mother designed the house, and my father and his friends built it by hand. Some of the two-by fours were planed from the wood of the giant trees, and it was wonderful to watch the house taking shape. I was allowed to choose which corner of the house I wanted for my bedroom. I love the afternoon sun, so I chose a corner facing west.

We moved into the house in the middle of winter, when I was 11 years-old. There were still natural ponds in the forest, and my friend Sherry and I used to go ice skating on them. I taught her how to do figure eights, and then we would trek off to her place for hot chocolate and some of her mother's world famous cinnamon buns fresh from the oven. Afterwards I would walk along the forest trail that connected her house to mine. I never felt comfortable walking through there alone, and I was always aware that I was not entirely alone. I could feel things watching me. There were eyes on me, and they didn't necessarily have my best interests at heart.

Every morning my father woke me up for school before he went to work, and one morning he said, "Be careful, kidlet, there was a cougar out there last night. I could see its footprints in the snow, and they were the size of tobacco can lids..." But this was the forest, and cougar, deer even the occasional bear were to be expected. This was their territory, and we were encroaching on it. We had learned to respect those animals, and they left us alone.

But I knew something else was out there.

Then one morning I saw it, just beyond the edge of the forest, and its tracks were still visible in the snow. At first I thought it was a bear. The tracks led from the forest to my bedroom window, and then back to the forest. They were not cougar, deer or bear. And they were not human. They were barefoot and they looked like a flat-footed ape. With very big feet. The Coast Salish have a name for this creature ~~ Sésquac which means "wild man". The Cowichan People gave him the name Thumquas which means "hairy giant". They believe he is omnivorous and nocturnal. And real. The Coast Salish also believe the Sésquac steal salmon from the fishermen's nets. He is seven to nine feet tall and there have been hundreds of thousands of sightings of him in Western Canada, and 700 footprints collected. There is folklore of these creatures living on every continent except the Antarctic, however, no one has ever found one of these creatures, nor any of their remains. Scientists claim there are still over five million species waiting to be found on our planet. Could the elusive Sésquac be one of these creatures?

Slowly the forest receded from our house, as more people built homes in the area, and now it is a residential district. Some of the old trees still remain, however, and I can still feel the spirits in them. And when I am walking through an old-growth forest, I can still feel something watching me ~~ and it isn't animal, and it isn't human.

The Third Wave

2011-10-14T18:02:00.000-07:00

The Wave
Gustave Courbet
1869

In 1967, at Cubberley High School in Palo Alto, California, a history teacher by the name of Ron Jones conducted a social experiment that became known as "The Third Wave". I had not heard about this experiment until a couple of days ago, when I saw the documentary entitled "Lesson Plan" on PBS. It was fascinating. During the experiment, Jones told his students that the movement aimed to eliminate democracy. Jones felt that democracy emphasizes individuality and therefore was a drawback to society as a whole. He emphasized this by coining the motto: "Strength through discipline, strength through community, strength through action, strength through pride" and he had his students chant this over and over until they were indoctrinated.

The Stormy Sea
Gustave Courbet
1870

The experiment began as an exercise in discipline, with the students being told to sit up straight, behave in an orderly fashion, and address the teacher as "Mr. Jones". He made up a salute, and students were ordered to salute each other even outside of class. Everyone complied. And then a strange thing happened; the experiment took on a life of its own, and students who were not in the class wanted to join. His classroom went from 30 students to 200, with standing room only. The students were issued a membership card, and some of the students elected themselves to be "police" or "informers". Mr. Jones was amazed to find that some of the students started reporting to him when other members of the movement failed to abide by the rules. Anyone who broke the rules, or spoke up and said, "This is wrong", were immediately banished to the library, and were shunned by their fellow classmates.

La falaise d'Étretat
Gustave Courbet
1869

By the fourth day of the experiment, Mr. Jones was alarmed at how the students had become immersed in the experiment, and rather than thinking as individuals, they were thinking and acting only according to the rules of the community, with loyalty only to the group ~~ complete with discipline, a membership card and a salute. Individuality disappeared. But the really frightening thing was how many people wanted to join the group, and fights were breaking out all over the campus when folks disagreed with each other, so Mr. Jones terminated the experiment. However, even today, when the students are interviewed, they remember the feelings they had of joining the group, and then being afraid to be individuals. They were merely part of the whole, and once they were part of the whole, they were terrified of taking a wrong step and being banished. Folks would say and do things they no longer believed, just to remain part of the group.

Beach in Normandy
Gustave Courbet
1872

A year after the experiment, Mr. Jones was terminated from his employment, and he never taught again. But his experiment was successful in proving how peer pressure can be very similar to Nazi Germany, and that was the point of his experiment. The definition of peer pressure is: the influence exerted by a peer group in encouraging a person to change his or her attitudes, values, or behavior in order to conform to group norms. Social groups affected include membership groups, when the individual is "formally" a member (for example, political party, trade union), or a social clique. A person affected by peer pressure may or may not want to belong to these groups. They may also recognize dissociative groups with which they would not wish to associate, and thus they behave adversely concerning that group's behaviors.

Mr. Jones' experiment proved to be more enlightening than he first imagined. It also proved that perfectly normal, reasonable people can get caught up in this mindset, and since we are all human, it can happen to any one of us, at any time. The thing is to recognize it for what it is and to try to avoid it. It's not always easy, though.

Come Fly With Me...

2011-10-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

In the past couple of ~~months~~ years or so, I haven't been watching much television, mainly because there hasn't been anything worth watching. Reality shows bore the tar out of me. I mean, if I have to make a decision between watching Nancy Grace tip-toeing her way through "Dancing with the Stars", or reading a good book, the book will win every time. I have been paying a fortune to rent movies on Video on Demand, because ... well ... it's better than keeping up with the Kardashians. I have never seen a group of more intellectually challenged, one-dimensional people, as exist in that family. Why in Heaven's name would I want to *keep up* with them? How do these people even get on television, and moreover, who watches them? So I was extremely happy to discover a whole raft of new television shows this year, of great quality, fabulous actors, and wonderful performances. Each one of them is like watching threatre-quality productions. So, here, in no particular order, is a list of television shows that I highly recommend:

1. Boardwalk Empire with the absolutely fabulous Steve Buscemi. This is actually its second year, but I just discovered it.

2. Harry's Law with Kathy Bates. Yes, that Kathy Bates. On television. I would pay to watch that show.

3. Revenge with the wonderfully wicked Madeleine Stowe. She's scheming, she conniving, she's fabulous.

4. Body of Proof with Dana Delaney. It's sort of CSI with high heels and great clothes ~~ and wonderful acting.

5. Unforgettable with Poppy Montgomery. This is based on the story of a woman who has total recall, and one of the advisors on the program is Marilu Henner, who has total recall.

6. Terra Nova with Jason O'Mara, an extremely talented, Shakespearean-trained British actor. The executive producter of Terra Nova is Steven Spielberg, and it is top-notch quality.

7. Pam Am with Christina Ricci ~ yes, that Christina Ricci. The show is about a group of Pan Am stewardesses ~ yes, stewardesses ~ in the early 1960s. It's so well-done, you can hear Sinatra singing, "Come fly with me..." in the background. We get to go to London, Paris, Rome, New York, Berlin ... Fasten your seat belts.

When I come home in the evening and plop myself into my big cozy chair, I don't want to turn on the television and watch some poor, unfortunate person in some cat and rat-infested home being evicted because he or she can't get rid of all the hoarded junk. And I don't want to watch all the Z list ex-celebrities (Lindsay Lohan's father...?) throwing hissy fits on Dr. Drew's Celebrity Rehab. And I certainly don't want to watch anyone else's children. I want escape. I want to be entertained. I want to be transported to 1920s Atlantic City, or 1960s Rome, or even 85 million years BC.

Come Fly With Me...

The Miracle Of Life... Is Cheap

2011-10-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am vehemently anti-abortion. My views are not on religious grounds, but strictly on humanitarian grounds. I believe the chance that life exists anywhere else in the universe is slim to none. I believe it exists only on our planet, and it happened accidentally. When you really think about the odds against your mother or your father being conceived, and then your being conceived as a result, and in fact any human being conceived at all, it is phenomenal that we are sitting here today, in front of our computers. It is indeed a miracle.

All of the things we are ever going to be, are present at the moment of our conception ~~ blue eyes, brown eyes, tall, short ~~ whatever. The creature that sits in front of your computer today was created at the moment of conception. We are a combination of our father's and mother's DNA. "Oh, you have your mother's nose! Oh, you look like your father!" We cannot change it. To paraphrase Popeye, we are what we are. And so, I believe when we abort a human fetus, we are aborting a human being, not a blob of tissue, but a human being who has been given only one ~~ one ~~ chance at life.

Today as I was puttering around my tree house, I happened to catch a show with Anderson Cooper, about black market babies. Wait a minute ... did I hear that correctly? Babies being sold on the black market? How did that happen? Well, it turns out that so many babies are being aborted, there are none available for adoption to loving parents who want children. So, as a result of supply and demand, babies are actually being manufactured and sold on the black market. Let me get this straight. We legally kill babies and then we manufacture more and sell them. Does anyone else find that bizarre and creepy? And perhaps just a little bit immoral?

Now, please don't misunderstand me. I am not against birth control. This is the 21st Century, and there are about a kazillion ways to prevent a human being from actually being conceived. But once he or she has been conceived, well, that train has pretty much left the station, has it not? Except in dire circumstances, and perhaps with the help of adoption agencies, how inconconvenient would it be to carry the child to term, and then arrange to have it adopted by parents who are longing to have a child, and would love and cherish it?

Ever since Roe versus Wade, abortion of human fetuses has legally been used as a method of birth control. Why can't the human race rethink the whole process and call it conception control? And while we're at it, why can't we put more of the onus of conception control on the male, and not just the female? How about it gentlemen ... a birth control pill for men? After all, it does take two to tango. Or is this another one of these deals where the responsibility of it is left to the woman, including the pain ~~ physical and mental. And I don't want to think about what the fetus must feel. In Canada, a woman can get an abortion at five months, and in the U.K. it's six months. That's a full-fledged human being.

Life is cheap, isn't it ~~ as long as it's someone else's.

Once Upon A Time... Two For The Road

2011-10-09T12:42:00.000-07:00

Woman in the Garden
Claude Monet
1867

Do you ever wish you could wave a magic wand, and go back to a simpler time in your life? I have been thinking about that lately. I'm not depressed or unhappy, I'm just sort of ... well, I can't describe it. Disappointed, I guess. I have always been an optimistic, cup half-full type of person. I never look at anything from the negative point of view, but recently I have been surrounded by people who do ~~ co-workers, family ~~ and it's frustrating. I would like to go back to a time when my life was full of possibilities, not only for me, but for other people too. I remember that time, and it seems so long ago now.

Yesterday I watched a biography of Audrey Hepburn. What a lovely, gracious woman she was. Henry Mancini composed many of the songs for her movies. I once owned an album of Mancini's movie themes, and my favourite was from a movie with Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney called "Two for the Road". I played the song over and over ... and I never tired of hearing it. When I heard it again yesterday, it took me back to a time when my life was simple and full of hope. But the lyrics mean even more to me today than they did then. It's poignant and beautiful, and makes me think that, wherever the road goes, there is still hope and all sorts of wonderful things waiting just around the corner, for everyone.

The 21st Century ... The World According To Jobs

2011-10-08T10:33:00.000-07:00

When I was about eight years old, my friend Harry Jensen and I made a tin can telephone. My friend Harry was wonderful; we were both born on the same day in the same hospital, and he was like a kindred spirit. Harry taught me all the secret things of the "boy's world" ~~ how to do arm-pit farts, how to set off a whole strip of caps from a cap gun, how to whistle with a piece of grass, how to make ~~ and throw ~~ the perfect snowball, and so much more. But the tin can telephone was my favourite. Harry lived in the house just behind ours, and the string on the tin can telephone was just long enough so that we could chat between his kitchen and my kitchen. Of course, we were shouting so loud, we could probably hear each other anyway. The tin can telephone was great fun.

When I became a teenager, my parents gave me a Princess Telephone for Christmas. I could chat with my friends, and my very first boyfriend, who always called me on my Princess Telephone so I could help him with his homework. I thought my Princess Telephone was just The . Best . Thing I could ever have received. It was my doorway to my independent world. My parents allowed me to talk on the telephone, in my bedroom with the door closed. I now officially had my own life and my own secrets that I shared with my friends without my Parental Units being involved.

My other prized possession was my very own radio, which I kept beside my bed, and I could listen to radio stations as far away as California. To me, California was the centre of the universe. It was where everything was happening ~~ movies, beaches, music, rock and roll. To be listening to a radio station live from California was to have finally arrived in the land of cool. I was a fully paid-up teenager with my own telephone, my own friends, my own radio and my own music. Did it get any better than that?

Omigoodness, have we come a long way...? When Steve Jobs passed away the other day, I began reading about some of his innovations. He was a true visionary, and he changed the way we live ~~ forever. Now, our lives are completely portable. Everything we have, know, need, listen to or communicate with, is in a little device we carry in our pockets. This device has revolutionized the world in ways that we wouldn't have thought possible a generation ago. Absolutely everything ~~ everything ~~ is connected, and we can take it with us when we leave the house. It makes me dizzy... And the thing that impressed me most about Steve Jobs is what an amazing marketer he was. He created devices that we didn't know we needed, and then he showed us how much we could not live without them, and then he sold them to us. We had a truly symbiotic relationship with Steve Jobs and the devices he created for us. Is that genius, or what?

I'm wondering what other visionaries there are waiting in the wings, creating wonderful things that we don't even know yet that we need, we cannot live without ...how did we ever live without...

Armchair Travel ... Rome, The Eternal City

2011-10-06T12:10:00.000-07:00

In recent years, Vancouver has been voted the number one city in which to live, and at the same time it has been voted the city with the third worst fashion sense in the world. I think the truth lies somewhere in between. I have been to Paris, London and New York, and Vancouver cannot hold a candle to them for culture, architecture, lifestyle ~~ well, just about anything. Vancouver is fortunate to be situated in a beautiful location, but it's a fairly young city and has not yet really established any sense of style. In fact, it's really just an overgrown logging town / port, located between the mountains, the old growth forest and the ocean. We do, however, have one of the sexiest beaches in North America. Who knew...! Perhaps that's the reason for the poor fashion sense... yoga pants, blue jeans, sneakers and baseball caps. Did I mention yoga pants...?

Every year at this time, I dream of faraway places with strange-sounding names... Well, maybe not the strange-sounding names, but definitely the faraway places. This year I am dreaming of Rome. How wonderful it would be to wake up tomorrow morning, and fly off to Rome. Now there is a city with style and elegance, not to mention incredible architecture, antiquities, art and history. I would visit all the usual places ~~ the plazas, the Sistine Chapel and the museums, the Colosseum and the Pantheon ~~ oh goodness, there is too much to even mention here. Mostly I would soak in the ambience of the city, not to mention the food and wine.

And then I would swing over to Milan and see the fresco of Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper. Just think, being able to see the frescos in the Sistine Chapel in Rome, and The Last Supper in Milan. Do we have anything to compare here in Vancouver? Well, yes, if you include the graffiti underneath the Granville Bridge... Then I would have an espresso at Caffè Cova, an ancient Milanese coffeehouse founded in 1817 near the Teatro alla Scala. Oh, goodness. And then I would spend the afternoon strolling through the fashion district. I couldn't afford to buy anything, but I could look.

*sigh*

Armchair travel is wonderful, but not as good as the real thing. If someone were to give you an open airline ticket, and you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would you go? Would it be a warm topical island? Or would it be a cosmopolitan city bustling with culture and night life? Enquiring minds want to know.

Does It Even Get Any Weirder...?

2011-09-28T08:16:00.000-07:00

There are some thing in life that are so weird, we just accept them. For me, the life and death of Michael Jackson is one of those things. Jackson was arguably one of the most talented entertainers who ever lived. His "Thriller" album is still hard to beat, even 30 years later. Every time I listen to it, it still sounds fresh and innovative. But, unfortunately, Jackson was a very strange person, and his private life reflected that fact. I was never entirely convinced that his preoccupation with little boys was anything more than just friendship. Child molesters will often create an atmosphere where children feel comfortable, and in my opinion, Jackson's Neverland Ranch was a typical child molester's lair. If anyone in any of our neighbourhoods ~~ Mr. Smith or Mr. Jones down the street ~~ had participated in such behaviour, the outcome of the trials would have been much different. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck... But Jackson is gone, and we will never know for sure.

And now, his personal physician, Dr. Murray, is on trial for Jackson's strange death ~~ yet another trial involving the strange life and death of Michael Jackson. At the time of his death, Jackson had been given propofol (an anesthetic), and two anti-anxiety benzodiazepines ~~ lorazepam and midazolam ~~ to help him sleep. During the autopsy, midazolam, diazepam, lidocaine and ephedrine were also found in Jackson's body. Now Dr. Murray is charged with involuntary manslaughter, and he is also accused of using the wrong type of CPR to try to revive Jackson. Weird? No more so than the rest of Jackson's life.

Jackson's career was on a downhill slide at the time of his death. He had been trying to revive it, but I think as with everything in life, times moves on, and fresh, new weird things arrive on the scene. Lady Gaga, anyone? Consider this: Lady Gaga wasn't even "born this way" yet when "Thriller" was first released. She was born four years later.

In a way, Jackson's weird death is his immortality. His death revived his record sales, and he has stayed front and center on the scene in a ghoulish way for the past two years, and will probably continue to do so for a long time yet. There is no such thing as bad publicity. Was his "Thriller" album prescient? Did he have a sense of what was to happen? Who knows? As long as Dr. Murray's trial continues, Michael Jackson will be in the headlines every day. His corpse will continue to be dug up and examined every morning, and laid to rest again in the evening. Every detail of his life, eating habits, sleep, friends, family, recreation, medications ~~ all his privacy ~~ will be open for the world to examine. I ask you, does it get any weirder than that?

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'alls neighborhood
And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell

I'm gonna thrill you tonight
(Thriller thriller)
I'm gonna thrill you tonight
(Thriller night thriller))
I'm gonna thrill you tonight
Ooh babe I'm gonna thrill you tonight
Thriller night babe

The Balance Sheet

2011-09-27T06:54:00.000-07:00

Do you ever get the feeling sometimes that somewhere, there is a room full of accountants keeping a ledger or a balance sheet of your life? And do you ever get the feeling sometimes that the debits far outweight the credits? I have been feeling that way lately. My mother once told me that she thought of me as a catalyst. "Cat·a·lyst: One that precipitates a process or event, especially without being involved in or changed by the consequences." How did I get to be that way? I don't know, but I do know it is tiring. I enjoy having fun in my life as much as anyone, but fun seems to be towards the bottom the credit column. In fact, I would say I'm in the red. I have never been the sort of person for whom other folks like to "do" things. I am always the one who "does". A few weeks ago a good friend of mine said to me, "If you ever want to go anywhere on the weekend, and you need a car, please let me know. I know it's difficult to get around the Lower Mainland if you don't have a car, and I'm happy to help out." I was in shock. People just never make offers to me like that. In fact, I would never feel comfortable accepting her offer, but it's sort of like the Oscars, you know? It's wonderful just to be nominated.

How does one become an enjoyer of life? I need some lessons. What I would really like to do is to quit my job and spend a life of dissipation and debauchery. Well, maybe not debauchery, but a little bit of dissipation would be nice. I would love to spend every waking moment, just enjoying the pleasures the day had to offer. A day at the spa? Bring it on. Win a lottery and spend six months on a tropical island? I'm there. Hire a housekeeper to vacuum and dust while I sip coffee? *Deep sigh...*

A couple of days ago I was ~~ yet again ~~ kept awake all night by the noisy neighbours. A developer by the name of Robert Helgason purchased the house next door and renovated it in 2004. He split the house into three suites, and then lied to the City of Vancouver Planning department, saying that it was only two suites (a duplex), and thereby got away with renting it out. It is in fact three suites, and nine very noisy people live there. It is the bane of my existance. It is the thing that tipped the balance sheet for me. Can you see the bay window on the left behind the trellis? That is my bedroom, and it is less than ten feet away from party central. The City of Vancouver Planning Department is within walking distance of where I work, and I think I will pay them a visit. I'm very resourceful, but I'm also sort of like The Incredible Hulk. "Don't make me angry; you wouldn't like me when I'm angry..."

The balance sheet is long overdue for the credits and the debits of my life to be put into balance. I'll never be a pampered princess, like one of the housewives of Beverly Hills/Spuzzum/Pouce Coupé, but I'm ready for some fun. I'm fairly low maintenance and it doesn't take much to make me happy. However, right now my account is empty and I'm taking donations.

Is There A Vaccination Against Ignorance...?

2011-09-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

Edward Jenner Vaccinating a Boy
Eugene Ernest Hillemacher

In this age of global travel, can you imagine a world where smallpox still exists? The world would be a very different place, one that I cannot even imagine. The whole dynamic of travel would be very different from the one we experience now. As with the threats of terrorism, many of our freedoms would be in jeopardy, not to mention our lives. Smallpox was a scourge on humanity, a highly infectious communicable disease that killed over one-third of the people it infected, and left the survivors horribly disfigured. Just in the 20th century alone, smallpox was responsible for an estimated 500 million deaths.

In 1796 an English physician by the name of Edward Jenner noticed that milkmaids who had been exposed to cowpox, did not develop smallpox. Jenner took the fluid from a cowpox pustule on a dairymaid's hand and inoculated an 8-year-old boy. Six weeks later, he exposed the boy to smallpox, and the boy did not develop smallpox, but remained well. Jenner coined the term "vaccine" from the word "vaca" which means "cow" in Latin. By 1800 about 100,000 people had been vaccinated worldwide. After vaccination campaigns throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, the World Health Organization certified the eradication of smallpox in 1979. One of the scourges of mankind no longer exists.

Now, can you imagine a world without cancer? Scientists have long believed that many cancers are the result of viral infections, and if so, a vaccine can be developed to prevent those cancers. Can you imagine ~~ a vaccination against cancer? Another of the scourges of mankind could be eradicated, or at least greatly reduced. Well, such a vaccine exists right now. It is called Gardasil, and it protects folks from cancers that develop after they have been exposed to certain types of human papillomavirus (HPV), specifically HPV types 6, 11, 16 and 18. HPV types 16 and 18 cause an estimated 70% of cervical cancers, and are responsible for most HPV-induced anal, vulvar, vaginal, and penile cancers. Farah Fawcett died of anal cancer at the age of 61. It is a horrible disease, and she died a horrible, protracted death.

Newflash: Human sexuality is here to stay, and unfortunately, along with it the sexually transmitted infections (STIs) are here to stay as well. And here is the shocking news: Of the 18.9 million new cases of STIs each year, 9.1 million (48%) occur among 15- to 24-year-olds, even though this age group represents only one-quarter of the sexually active population. According to a 2008 study by the CDC, an estimated 1 in 4 teenage girls has at least one STI at any given time.

There has been a lot of backlash against Gardasil in recent weeks ~~ thank you Michele Bachmann ~~ and I think it is unbelievably ignorant. It's not a moral issue, it's a medical issue. If there are opportunities to save millions of lives, how can anyone disagree with that? Vaccines have side effects? Oh, gosh, well, so do smallpox and cancer, the main side effect being death, the second side effect being permanent disfigurement. The smallpox vaccine was not without side effects and in a few cases, approximately 2 in one million, the side effects were severe. But if you really want to know the pros and cons of those odds, ask someone who has had smallpox or cancer.

Every human being on earth should be vaccinated with Gardasil, before they become sexually active. Period. Full stop. End of story. I feel very strongly about this, and I hope the scope of ignorance represented by people like Michele Bachmann will also be eradicated as soon as possible. Is there a vaccination against ignorance? Oh, how I wish...

Miss Jones and Mrs. Winters ... Worlds Apart

2011-09-20T10:12:00.000-07:00

Now that school has started again for another year, I have been thinking lately about some of my teachers throughout the years. My favourite teacher was Miss Jones, my grade one teacher. I thought she was the sweetest, most beautiful, most intelligent person I had ever met. She was patient and gentle with all of the children. I remember one little boy ~~ Bobby ~~ who, it turned out, was severely intellectually challenged. He was a good-natured boy and everyone liked him, but the school work was beyond his intellectual capacity. He disappeared one day, several weeks into the school year, and we never saw him again. Miss Jones explained to us that Bobby had gone to a special school. I remember she had tears in her eyes when she told us, but we were too young to understand. A few years ago we had a school reunion, and Miss Jones was there, much older but still very pretty. It was wonderful to see her. She hugged me and said she remembered what a cute little girl I was. I realize now that Miss Jones was only 21 years old when I was in grade one.

It's amazing how a teacher can have an effect on a child's self-worth. When I was in grade eight ~~ that alligator-infested swamp of middle school ~~ I had a teacher who didn't particularly like me. She had three or four *favourites* and the rest of us were just ... well, the rest of us. She seemed to take great care in pronouncing my name incorrectly, even though I told her several times that it was pronounced this way, not that way. I realized years later that she was not a particularly inspired teacher, and probably didn't do it deliberately. But, at an age where girls want to feel accepted by their peers, and by their teachers, she made it blatantly obvious that most of us were not ... just so. She was very young at the time as well, only 21 or 22, and there is still a huge level of immaturity at that age. I hope she became wiser in later years.

Mrs. Winters was a jock, and was also the girls' gym teacher. She was married to the boys' gym teacher, Mr. Winters, and together they produced a gaggle of little jock-children. I was never a jock. I enjoyed sports such as ice-skating, bike-riding, hiking, swimming, but I loathed and despised competitive sports. Oddly enough, however, I was good at baseball, and Mr. Winters said he had never met anyone who could hit a baseball the way I did. I once hit a ball from the sports field all the way to the gymnasium, and knocked out a window. Mr. Winters just stood and stared at me in amazement. I felt that redeemed me somewhat with Mrs. Winters ~~ temporarily, anyway.

A few days ago I ran across Mrs. Winters on Facebook. I sent her a friendly message, however, I doubt she will remember me, and I don't expect to hear back from her. She probably would not recognize my name, in any case. She never could get it right...

Toddlers and Tiaras ... the Sexploitation of Children...

2011-09-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

This week's front cover of People Magazine features the reality show "Toddlers and Tiaras", a television show about children's beauty pageants. The inside cover features an advertisement for a new TV show called "The Playboy Club". The tagline for the "The Playboy Club" reads "Don't let the fluffy tails fool you." As soon as I opened the cover, the irony of the connection between the two articles hit me, along with the similarity of the over-the-shoulder glances of the little girl/woman in the photographs.

I'm not a prude, and I have no problem with the sexualization of adults. Sexuality is an integral part of being human. It's what makes the world go around. But I do have a problem with the sexualization of little girls, and children's beauty pageants do just that. Little girls are heavily made up to emphasize full lips and long eyelashes, they are spray tanned, hair sprayed, glittered and glamourized, and paraded around on a stage in revealing outfits in provocative poses, for adults to judge them. Many of the judges are adult men, and I find that just a little bit creepy. The little girls range in age from about two years old to 14. In the People Magazine article, one mother said that her little girl was on a beauty pageant stage when she was seven days old. That's right ~~ seven days old.

All little girls love to play dress-up. I remember clomping around in my mother's high heels, wearing lipstick from the samples the Avon lady left at our house. Sometimes I would put a towel on my head and pretend I had long hair. It was wonderful fun, and every little girl loves to do it, and my daughter loved to do it as well. But there is no way in the world my mother would ever have allowed me to look like this, nor would have I allowed my daughter to do this. What is wrong with the parents of these little girls? Don't they understand the extent to which they are putting their children in harm's way? The murder of JonBenét Ramsey has never been solved. For several years her parents were the prime suspects, until they were absolved of any blame. But just how responsible were they, indirectly? Child beauty pageants are open to the public. Anyone can attend them, and they're not regulated. In fact, child beauty pageants have no regulations at all. The cost of entering the pageants is far more then any of the meagre winnings. And yet, for a huge multi-billion dollar business exploiting children, there are no rules regarding child labor laws. And make no mistake, these children are being exploited by the networks who televise these shows as well.

Reality TV has gotten out of control. We are now privy to all aspects of people's personal lives. I'm not really interested in what people eat, or what they hoard, or with whom they socialize/fight/sleep, or how much money they make at garage sales... But I do think any reality show that involves children's private lives should be banned. Children don't have a say in how much of their privacy is revealed to millions of people. Childhood is the time when we ~~ the big people ~~ should be protecting children, not exploiting them. This "Toddlers and Tiaras" show is creepy. Please cancel it.

A Journey Of A Thousand Miles...

2011-09-16T00:02:00.000-07:00

La Route De Rocquencourt
Camille Pissarro
1871

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step". ~~ Laozi, Chinese philosopher. Our lives are like a journey; or rather, our lives are like a series of journeys. We're Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout in "Around the World in 80 Days". Part of our journey is on a steamship, part is on a train, occasionally we walk, sometimes we fly, but we always move forward. And, like the old cliché, sometimes we hit a fork in the road and have to make a decision as to which road we will take. Often we take the wrong road, and we cross the Rubicon and realize we cannot turn back. The best we can do is to continue along the road we're on until we find another crossroads. But, isn't that what makes life intesting? Wouldn't it be boring continuing down the same road forever? The same old scenery, the same old people, the same old sunrise and sunset. Yawn.

The Road to Louveciennes
Camille Pissarro
1872

When we first start out on the journey, we think we are prepared for whatever is down the road. We have our passports, and our clean, shiny faces, and with great anticipation we take our first steps. However, it's not long before we discover there are bumps and bends in the road. And often there are wonderful adventures ~~ and misadventures ~~ to deter us. But that's okay, because I think the point of any journey is to enjoy it and have fun. My motto? Laugh ~~ a lot. And always be open to new opportunities, because they will find us at the most unusual times. Much of the good fortune that befalls us is through serendipity, happenstance and just dumb luck.

"I say luck is when an opportunity comes along and you're prepared for it." ~~ Denzel Washington

The Railroad Crossing at Les Patis
Camille Pissarro
1876

Sometimes, if we're fortunate, we make the journey with someone else, and sometimes we make the journey alone. I have always felt it is better to make the journey on one's own, than to make it with the wrong person.

"It's better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone else." ~~ Marilyn Monroe.

The exciting things about journeys are the opportunities along the way. The generations that travelled along the road before us have bequeathed to us all their music, art, literature, scientific discoveries ~~ and so much more ~~ for us to enjoy and build upon. They have given us the opportunity to say, "I was here...." It's up to us to decide how we say it. But the most important thing is to enjoy the journey, and not to get too stressed about the occasional boulder in the road. Usually we make our way safely around them, and when we look back, we see the seemingly insurmountable rock was actually just a little pebble, and we laugh.

To Mac, who is setting out on a new journey down a new road ~~ at just the right time ~~ Happy Birthday...!

Sophie

2011-09-13T18:57:00.000-07:00

I always vowed that the two things I would never post here on my boring-little-blog were recipes, or pictures of cats. The blogs are inundated with recipes and pictures of cats. Most of the recipes are ho-hum, and most of the cats are ~~ meh ~~ to say the least. But I have the world's funniest, cutest, sweetest, most affectionate cat visiting me right now, and she makes me laugh. She's fascinated with the laundry. As soon as I turn the machine on, she's over there like ... well ... a dirty shirt, watching in rapt, feline attention as the clothes tumble around in the soapy water. It keeps her happy for hours. For the most part, cats can sometimes be sort of ~~ independent. They're not like dogs. Cats don't come running when you call them; they would much rather take their own sweet time. And when they do, they pretend not to be very interested in why you called them. They'll stretch and yawn and look very bored. "What does she want now...?" But they're actually a lot of fun, when they so choose. Sophie has made a thorough inspection of every house plant in my apartment, gazing into the soil for whatever might be living in there. She has tested all the chairs, and has chosen a favourite one for sleeping. And for some reason she loves to sit and watch me put on my makeup. "What on earth is that lady doing to her face...?" But her favourite activity, by far, is to sit and watch the laundry. Well, as they say, whatever floats your boat...

They Always Get Their Man...?

2011-09-12T17:48:00.000-07:00

I love the RCMP ~~ I really do. They're much more than Canada's national police force, they're an integral part of Canada's history. They just so ~~ Canadian. Who doesn't have a feeling of national pride, watching the men in the red coats, riding the beautiful black steeds in the Musical Ride? They truly identify Canada as the land of the "True North Strong and Free". However, lately the RCMP have been doing some really dumb things, for which they are getting a bit of a bad rap, and in some cases it's well-deserved.

A few days ago an adorable little three-year old boy by the name of Kienan Hebert was abducted from his home in the middle of the night. The abductor was identified, and an Amber Alert was issued throughout British Columbia and Alberta with the abductor's car and license plate. Everyone was on high alert to look for this individual. However, as the days wore on, hope dwindled as neither the little boy nor his abductor were found. On Saturday, Kienan's parents went on television and pleaded for the abductor to return the little boy, just drop him off at a gas station, or at his home, or anywhere where he could be found. The abductor's mother even went on television and pleaded for his son to return the little boy.

And then the miraculous happened. At approximately 3:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, the little boy's abductor dropped him off at his house, and then phoned 911 to alert the RCMP that the little boy was safely home. The abductor then disappeared.

Okay, I know ... you can see where I am going with this. You're way ahead of me. You're thinking the same thing I'm thinking. Would it not have been reasonable for one of the best police forces in the world to have had an invisible stake-out at the little boy's house, just in case...? If there was even the most remote possibility that the abductor would do the right thing and return the little boy to his family, shouldn't someone ~~ anyone ~~ have thought, "Say, listen, we should probably keep someone posted under cover at a few locations, just in case..."

Doesn't that sound almost reasonable?

Police on Monday said they "facilitated" the safe return of Kienan Hebert after he was missing for four days, but would provide few details on how an abductor might have been able to return the three-year-old boy to his B.C. home undetected. RCMP spokesman Cpl. Dan Moskaluk said revealing too much could jeopardize the investigation, which is currently focused on finding Randall Hopley, 46, the main suspect in this abduction case. ~~ Montreal Gazette

In addition, according to the Montreal Gazette, driving to the Hebert house would have required passing the search-and-rescue command post at the entrance to the suburb, as the community has only one road in to it. So, in the middle of one of the biggest manhunts conducted by the RCMP in British Columbia and Alberta, and with the whole community on the lookout for this man, he was able to slip back into town, return the little boy, and slip away again ~~ like a thief in the night. The abductor ~~ a registered sex offender who had earlier attempted to take another child from his home ~~ is now off scott free, tripping the light fantastic, while the RCMP is trying to find him.

Oh my word, where's Dudley Do-Right of the Mounties when we need him?

What If...? If Only...

2011-09-11T13:44:00.000-07:00

There is something that has always bothered me about the events on 9/11. When the North Tower was first hit by an airplane, the loudspeaker in the South Tower could clearly be heard telling people to stay where they were. I have often wondered who made that decision, and moreover, why they made it. Isn't preparedness half the battle? So many more lives could have been saved if there had been an orderly evacuation of both towers as soon as the first plane hit. Perhaps if there are any lessons to be learned from 9/11, this is one of them.

Where I work, we have regular seminars in every aspect of emergency preparedness, from earthquakes and fires, to chemical spills, possible terrorist attacks (we have containment level 3 laboratories), to the possibility of violence from clients or co-workers. Nothing is left to chance.

In the past few days there have been several documentaries on television, covering the events of 9/11. It has reminded me what a huge tragedy that event was. The people who lost their lives were just ordinary folks like all of us; they got up in the morning, brushed their teeth, had their morning coffee and went to work ~~ one of the places we all consider safe. And like all of us, they relied on the decisions of other people to keep them safe. But someone made a very unfortunate decision that day ~~ "Stay where you are...You are safe.". As it turned out, the South Tower was the first to fall. Would anyone have know it was also going to be hit by a plane? Probably not. Should they have anticipated that, under the circumstances, something else was going to happen? Yes. That is part of the decision-make process.

I do feel very bad for whomever made that decision. It's something they are going to have to live with for the rest of their lives. What if...? If only...

Fresh Bouquets Of Pencils And Buttercups...

2011-09-06T08:11:00.000-07:00

In Canada, today is the first day the children go back to school, clutching their fresh bouquets of pencils. It is always a favourite time of year for me ~~ the true beginning of the year. It's the time of year when we all start with a fresh, clean slate, and what we write on it is completely up to us. On Labour Day weekend, I spend my time cleaning out closets, taking inventory, throwing out old things and replacing anything that needs to be replaced. This is a good time to do that in our lives, as well ~~ make a fresh start, as it were.

I remember when I was about five years old, lying in a field of buttercups thinking that soon I would be starting school, that my "real life" would begin, and there would be no more lying in fields of buttercups for me. What a strange thought for a five-year-old, but I remember it very clearly, and I think of it whenever I see buttercups. I can look back now, over the expanse of time, and wonder if my "real life" turned out the way I had expected. No, it did not ~~ not even close. I guess you could say life got in the way, and for most of us that is true.

But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy! ~~ Robbie Burns

For all the little children who are starting out on their "real life" today, I wish you the best of luck. Work hard, keep your eye on the goal. Education, training and skill are the doorways to a good life, your own life. Remember, no matter what happens, you have to live your own life on your own terms.

And yes, there will still be fields of buttercups along the way.

Less, Please ... More, Please ...

2011-09-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

This is my favourite time of year, and I have been away from my computer, enjoying our gorgeous end-of-summer weather. Yesterday as I was sitting in my hairdresser's waiting room, I picked up a People magazine, and saw that Jennifer Aniston is in love. Wait...! Again? I had to check the date on the issue. How many times is this for poor Miss Aniston, since she was so unceremoniously dumped by Brad Pitt? Six? Seven? Nine? I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Can you imagine how humiliating it must be to have your love live ~~ or lack thereof ~~ played out on the front page of every celebrity magazine and website? Everyone at some point has gone through a failed romance, and the effects on one's psyche are devastating. We keep a brave face and soldier on, but that would be almost impossible when the whole world knows one is ~~a loser~~ unlucky in love. I'm not a huge fan of Jennifer Aniston's movies. She was sort of cute in "Friends" but that show launched almost 20 years ago, and ended almost a decade ago. Perhaps Jennifer is past her "best by" date, and should keep a low profile for a while. Is anyone else getting tired of reading about her? I was thinking about that yesterday, and I have compiled my top-ten list of people I can do without ~~forever~~ for a while. They're everywhere, and I don't understand why.

1. Any of the Kardashians. Who are they? Who cares?
2. All of the Housewives of Beverly Hills, New York, New Jersey, Orange County, and anywhere else these phony, plasticized women live. Go away ... please.
3. George Clooney. Oh, I know, I know, you all love George Clooney, but isn't there something about him that is just slightly irritating? Come on, admit it.
4. Michele Bachmann. Enough said.
5. Gordon Ramsay. If he would actually do some cooking, it would be great, but he spends his time swearing at people and insulting other folks who do cook. Just shut the **** up already.
6. Justin Bieber. I am still convinced he is really a girl. And I do apologize for the fact that he is Canadian. The good news is, his "cuteness" has a very short shelf-life.
7. Lindsay Lohan. Enough said.
8. Bethenny Frankel. What can one say about this ghastly woman? She's everywhere, with a voice that could strip varnish. Do people actually watch her television show and admit it? How did she happen?
9. Celine Dion. Again, she is Canadian, and again, my apologies.
10. Hoarders. Get help. You're very sick.

Here is my list of people I would like to see more. More please:

1. Greg Kinnear. He is one of the most talented, most under-rated actors in Hollywood. He stole the movie "The Matador" from Pierce Brosnan. Let's see more of Greg Kinnear, please. He's rather easy on the eyes, too. Move over, George Clooney.
2. Lupe Ontiveros. Who ... you ask? Google her, go ahead, I'll wait. Oh, yes ... you see, you don't recognize her name, but you recognize her face. She steals every scene, in every movie she's in.
3. Zooey Deschanel. I think I have ice in my refrigerator freezer that is older than Zooey Deschanel, but she's sweet, funny and very, very talented.
4. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Who knew the kid from "Third Rock from the Sun" would grow up to be such quirky, edgy talented actor?
5. Mia Wasikowska. Go ahead, Google her; I'll wait. Recognize her now? She's one of the most talented people around.
6. Hilary Farr and David Visentin. They're Canadian. You won't know them. I love them.
7. Russell Peters. He makes me laugh like no one else can make me laugh. He's completely politically incorrect and irreverent ~~ and a breath of fresh air. He recently had a small role in "The Source Code". More please.
8. Johnny Depp. All Johnny Depp, all the time, is fine with me. Has anyone seen "Rango"? Oh my goodness, I swear he was slightly inebriated all through the whole movie, but wonderful.
9. Viola Davis. Has there ever been a better actress? Ever? She plays rather plain, down-trodden women in such movies as "Doubt" and "The Help" and in real life she is absolutely gorgeous. How does she transform herself? Talent.
10. Bruce McGill. Okay ... go ahead ... I'll wait while you Google him. Again, you recognize the face, but not the name. We need to see more of the amazing Bruce McGill.

I could list a lot more folks, both on the first list and the second, but perhaps I will leave that up to you. If you had a list of folks that we could do without, who would be on it? Conversely, who would be on your "more please" list?

Knowledge is Power...

2011-08-28T10:01:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, in a moment of insane magnanimity, I promised both Phinnaeus and Marigold that when they reached grade ten I would buy them each their own laptop computer. The last three years of high school can make or break a person's education, and I believe that kids need all the tools they can use. Both Phinnaeus and Marigold have inherited their mother's intelligence and intellectual curiosity, but in very different ways. Marigold is the more quiet of the two, and her interests surprise me. She loves the aesthetic arts, and yet at the same time she is brilliant in math. Perhaps there is a correlation there. Marigold loves learning and I think she will do something amazing with her life. She often talks about being a doctor, and I think she can do it. Phinnaeus is more the philosopher and loves to debate the pros and cons of various subjects. He is a natural born lawyer or politician.

On Friday Phinnaeus and I met for lunch, and we ended up in a computer store. Funny how that happens. Anyway, the store had a great laptop computer on sale, so ... I bought it for him. It was a great deal ~~ lots of memory, good graphics card, and included in the price was a wireless modem and free installation and setup by the Geek Squad. Not bad.

Reading by the Fireside
George Paul Chalmers

I am a huge believer in education; it is the one thing we can give ourselves, and it is the one thing that cannot be taken away from us. Knowledge indeed is power, and it is something we can spend our lifetime pursuing. Education and knowledge are the keys to a better life, but more than that, they are the keys to a better person. When Phinnaeus and I were having lunch, I said to him, "The root word of knowledge is 'know' and the root word of ignorance is 'ignore' ". I advised him to take the opportunity of these next few years and fill his head with as much knowledge as he can; to open his mind and let all the knowledge flow in, not to ignore it. Phinnaeus can sometimes tend to make snap judgments about things without first knowing all the facts. I often have to remind him that, at the age of 15, he cannot possibly know every fact about every subject. But to give him credit, if he is interested in something, he does do his research. I also reminded him that the computer is for school, not for playing games or chatting on Facebook with the girls.

"But ... Oma ..."

Phinnaeus is a good kid, but like any 15 year-old, he is a diamond in the rough. In another 15 years, he will probably be a very different person than he is now. Funny how that happens. I hope he continues to exercise his intellectual curiosity, and soaks up all the knowledge he possibly can. Knowledge is power.

My Summer Staycation ... Part Two

2011-08-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

Today I decided to take a few days off work and play "tourist in my own town" ~~ a staycation ~~ and I took a stroll around my 'hood. I'm very fortunate to live in one of the most beautiful neighbourhoods, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and I never get tired of walking through it. There is always something new to see, and since I am so close to the ocean, I am always accompanied by my friends the seagulls. For lunch I stopped at Maria's Taverna, my favourite Greek restaurant. Usually Maria's is bustling and noisy, but today I was their only customer, except for two people on the other side of the room. The waiter offered to take my picture and I said, "Sure, okay", but I told him the farther away he gets, the better I'll look, so he'd better back up. He laughed.

On my way home I strolled past the Pocket Market, which is set up every Thursday from 3:00 until early evening. Farmers from all around the Lower Mainland bring their wonderful fruits and vegetables, baked goods and preserves, and sell them at the Pocket Market. They were just getting set up, so I bought two zucchinis. And then I came home and read a book and had a nap. Now I ask you, does it even get any more exciting than that? I mean, I lead life at such at breakneck pace, people ask me how I manage to keep up with all the whirl of activities. I don't know ... I pace myself, I guess. One does what one can...

Staycations can be a lot of fun. We get to do things in our own town that we may normally not do. I'm planning to check out the Museum of Anthropology in a few days and then maybe, oh, I don't know, I'll take a ride on one of those little ferry boats in False Creek. On the other hand, it may just be too much of a whirlwind of merriment for me; I'll have to just wait and see...

Here is a little video that I recorded today at Maria's Taverna. There is Greek music playing in the background, so you may not be able to hear me, but it will give you an idea of what a lovely restaurant it is.

Jessica Beagley ... The World's Stupidest Mother...?

2011-08-24T08:10:00.000-07:00

Jessica Beagley has been found guilty of child abuse, after video-taping herself pouring hot sauce into her son's mouth, and shoving him into a cold shower ... amongst other horrible things. I have seen the video twice, and that was enough for me. I wanted to reach into the camera and rescue the little boy from that disgusting woman. All mothers get frustrated with their children, it goes with the territory of motherhood. But what Jessica Beagley did to her son crossed way over the line into abusiveness; in fact, it may even be considered torture. Thank God she was stupid enough to video-tape it and then go on Dr. Phil's national television show so the whole world could see what she was doing.

This little boy was adopted from Russia, where this case has attracted attention because of growing concern about adopted children from that country facing abuse in the United States. "Beagley and her husband had struggled with the boy, who was adopted at age 5 along with his twin brother from an orphanage in Magadan, Russia, Ingaldson said. Both boys have since been diagnosed with an emotional disorder stemming from their difficult early years in Russia and are now in long-term therapy, the defense lawyer said." ~~ Toronto Sun.

Now this little fellow faces more emotional and physical trauma ~~ more than any child deserves in his short years. The children are remaining in the family, and Child Protective Services are involved. I hope they keep a close eye on this family.

Jessica Beagley will be sentenced on Monday, and she could face up to a year in jail. She'll probably get a slap on the wrist ~~ no pun intended ~~ and be free to continue being abusive, not only to her children but to her husband as well, I suspect. I don't think we have heard the last of this woman.

My Summer Staycation

2011-08-23T08:14:00.000-07:00

During this lovely summer that we have been enjoying, my brain has become dormant and I have gone into seclusion mode. I think some folks call it vacation, but in my case it is called *staycation*. However, if I had a choice of anywhere to go right now, it would be to an English country cottage, cloistered away from the electronic world. My whole life seems to consist of computers, data bases, television, e-mail, Facebook, telephones, faxes ~~ communicate, communicate, communicate... Must . Communicate. All the time...

Do you ever feel the need to get away from the constant barrage of the sound of human voices? Does anyone remember what silence sounds like? Silence is the thing that nourishes our souls, and we don't get enough of it anymore. Imagine an English cottage in the countryside. There is no electronic buzz, just the sound of the birds and the wind, and perhaps the sound of a brook in the distance ~~ the music of nature.

These weeks of late August and early September are my favourite time of the year. Everything slows down and is sort of mellow, the light is golden ~~ a perfect time for a staycation. I have retreated to my little tree house for some peace and quiet. Soon things will be gearing up again, but for now I'm enjoying the sounds of silence.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer.

The $50,000 Fib...

2011-08-17T08:26:00.000-07:00

These two little boys ~~ and their father ~~ have just learned a very expensive lesson in honesty. Eleven year-old Nick Smith won a lottery in a Minnesota benefit hockey game last week. If he could shoot a puck from the opposite blue line toward a 3½-inch hole and make a successful shot, he would $50.000. The trouble is, when his name was called, Nick was outside and his identical twin brother Nate stepped into his place. The event organizer asked Nate if his name was Nick, and Nate said, "Yes". He stepped onto the ice, made the 90-foot shot, and the puck went into the 3½-inch hole. Everyone was shocked, including professional hockey players. "How on earth did he do that?"

Right shot, wrong kid.

Afterwards, their father, Pat Smith, told officials of the switch. "We kind of went along with it that it was Nick," Pat Smith told KEYC-TV. "Then the next day I called back and said, 'You know, it was really Nate that made the shot.' We thought honesty was the best policy, and we wanted to set a good example for our kids." The insurance company, Odds On Promotions, still is deciding whether to pay up. If it receives the money, the family said it will go for the twins' college educations.

Asked if he and his brother will continue to swap places, Nate Smith replied: "We have before, but I don't think we can again."

They have before? That's interesting.

I am of two minds as to whether or not they should be paid the $50,000. Just because they are brothers and identical twins, they are not the same person. It's kind of a *bait and switch* situation. On the other hand... Nate did make the difficult shot ~~ and won.

If ever there were a situation that required the wisdom of Solomon, this is it. According to a survey, 76% of people think the boys should get the $50,000, and only 24% think they should not. I am indecisive at the moment, but the fact that they have switched identities before sort of sways me towards thinking they should not get the money.

I guess for these boys ~~ and their father ~~ they're never too young to learn a lesson. I would be interested to know what folks think about this. Should they get the money?

Be Careful What You Wish For...

2011-08-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

One of the favourite pastimes of Canadians is watching American politics. It's the ultimate reality show, and much more entertaining. Shakespeare would have had a field day with American politics, there is so much material for plays, and perhaps the occasional sonnet. "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me." ~~ Wm. Shakespeare, Macbeth. ACT I Scene 3. The characters in Shakespeare's plays were partly based on real people, but were mostly fictional. They were full of human faults and foibles, and got themselves into all sorts of scrapes, because sooner or later, their humanity rose to the surface.

American politics is filled with just such characters. They stroll across the stage, perform their part, and then vanish, stage left ~~ many of them to ignomious fates. (I predicted John Edwards' downfall while he was still the "It" boy in the Democratic presidential campaign...No one believed me...) Others just sputter and flame out, while others don't know when to make a graceful exit. Watching them is just too much fun, and since we Canadians really don't have an investment in American politicians or politics, we can watch them all ~~ Democrats and Republicans ~~ with equal delight.

Michele Bachmann won the Republican Straw Poll in Ames, Iowa yesterday. She is a founding member of the Tea Party Caucus, and her husband runs an organization for *reparative therapy*. His motto is "Pray away the gay...". I am always suspicious of ultra-conservative folks who base their lives on being judgmental of other people. It will come back to haunt them, and rightfully so. And this unfortunate photograph will come back to haunt Michele Bachmann, a future candidate for President of the United States. Yes, there is a God, and She has a sense of humour.

The newest player on the American political stage is Governor Rick Perry of Texas. He is going to be an interesting candidate to watch. Oh, yes. I'm not going to tell you what I predict with this fellow. I would rather leave it up to your imagination. Let me just say, I believe Shakespeare would be sharpening his quill as we speak. This character is too good to be true.

Be careful what you wish for...

Masterchef

2011-08-08T21:04:00.000-07:00

Usually I don't care for reality shows, but (shhh, don't tell anyone, my secret is out) I'm addicted to Masterchef. If you've never heard of Masterchef, it's a TV show where 20 ordinary people test their culinary skills in what is basically an old-fashioned cook off. The judges are Chef Joe Bastianich, Chef Graham Elliot and Chef Gordon Ramsay. When it comes to cooking and being creative, they are a formidable bunch to please, believe me. Facing these three judges, the competition becomes more like an endurance test than a cooking contest. Each week a contestant is eliminated until we are left with a winner.

We are now down to the final ~~six~~ five contestants, and it’s pretty much a faceoff between Jennifer (the heroine) and Christian (the villain). They spend much of their time sniping at each other and gritting their teeth over each other's successes. My favorite contestant is Ben Starr from Lewisville, Texas. He always looks so surprised when anyone wins ~~ especially him ~~ or when anyone loses, for that matter. He has the most winning personality of the group, and he is sort of the comic relief. I think he's a pretty good cook, too. He has lasted until now, in any case, and that's not easy. I will be sad if and when he is eliminated.

I love chef Ramsay; every second word he utters has to be bleeped out, and just by his body language he is able to make a grown man cry. Cry over food? Well, I guess so... These folks take this stuff very seriously. Occasionally the judges are presented with a dish so bad, so unpalatable, so unfit for human consumption, it is scraped off the plate and tossed into the garbage, while the unfortunate contestant stands frozen like a deer in the headlights. On one episode Chef Ramsay told a contestant that her offering was the worst dish he had ever eaten. Tears ensued. Chef Bastianich just fixes the contestant with an icy stare, and we are left to guess what it means. Did he like it, did he hate it? Was he blown away by the dish, or was it beyond disgusting? Chef Elliot just looks amused by the whole thing, but he can be very angry if a dish is not up to his liking. He likes his food.

Oh, the drama, the drama.

My favourite part of the show is the mystery box, which is a wooden box filled with surprise elements that the contestants are required to transform into a gourmet meal. Last week several live prawns walked right off the table, their antennae twitching as they nonchalantly strolled away, trying to look inconspicuous. Mercifully, we were not permitted to watch as they were dispatched from the state of being living creatures, into flavourful culinary delights. However, it all worked out in the end ... well, maybe not for the prawns...

I ask you, is there anything more rewarding than the perfect soufflé, or anything more disappointing than bland tomato soup? "The soup is okay, but it needs more seasoning..." Damned by faint praise. I had no idea cooking could be so much fun. Who knew?

Guilty Pleasures

2011-08-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

Whenever Phinnaeus and Marigold come to visit, I always use it as an excuse to watch animated movies. I'll say to them, "Let's watch Rango...!"

"Oma, nooooooooo...!"

What kid doesn't love animated movies? Well, apparently Phinnaeus and Marigold. I guess they are just at the age where animated movies are for *babies*. Fortunately, I am way past that age, and I love animated movies. The movies being created these days are not just animation, they are works of art, and I'm gobsmacked at how beautiful they are. Not only that, but *A* list stars are lining up to perform in them. Johnny Depp as the lead character in "Rango" is nothing short of inspired, and one gets the feeling that he was just ever so slightly inebriated when he was voicing the part. In any case, he was certainly having a lot of fun. The rest of the cast included ~~ amongst others ~~ Isla Fisher, Bill Nighy, Ned Beatty, Abigail Breslin, Alfred Molina, Harry Dean Stanton. How wonderful is that? If you haven't seen "Rango" yet, you're in for a huge treat. Everything about it is absolutely perfect. Watch for a brilliant cameo performance by Clint Eastwood.

My other guilty pleasure this summer is "Cars" and "Cars 2" ~~ in 3D. Omigoodness. "Cars 2" takes place in London, Paris and Monte Carlo. The leading character, Lightning McQueen, is voiced by Owen Wilson. The rest of the cast consists of Michael Caine, Emily Mortimer, Larry the Cable Guy, Bonnie Hunt, Joseph Mantegna, John Turturro, Eddie Izzard, Franco Nero, Vanessa Redgrave (as the Queen of England), Cheech Marin, Katherine Helmond, Tony Shalhoub ... the list goes on. In the original "Cars", there was an aging race car named Doc Hudson, and the character was voiced by Paul Newman. In the second, "Cars 2", Lightning McQueen paid homage to Doc Hudson, aka Paul Newman. Once again, the artwork is beyond spectacular, and the movie is filled with cute *in* jokes and nuances ~~ "Is the Popemobile Catholic?" I'm so glad I'm not a kid anymore, and I can enjoy these movies with unabashed pleasure. They are truly works of art in every way.

Here is a short clip from "Rango". Johnny Depp is having way too much fun, and so am I.

PSSST...! Mister, Ya Got A Lightbulb You Can Spare...?

2011-07-28T10:08:00.000-07:00

There is nothing more cozy than the glow of a soft table lamp lighting up a corner of a room. I have several of them throughout my house, and I never use more than a 60 watt bulb. I have two lamps in my bedroom and they both have 40 watt bulbs. It's enough light to read, and if I should fall asleep, they don't keep me awake. I have always loved lamps. Books, pictures and lamps are a home decorator's best friend.

Now we are being told by the ~~environmental Nazis~~ government that we can no longer use the soft glowing incandescent light bulbs, but instead must switch to these ghastly compact fluorescent bulbs. "The federal government will ban the sale of inefficient light bulbs by 2012 in a move to reduce energy consumption and reduce greenhouse gases, Natural Resources Minister Gary Lunn said Wednesday. Lunn said the ban would reduce greenhouse gas emissions by more than six million tonnes a year, saving homeowners about $60 annually in electricity costs. Only the 75-watt and 100-watt incandescents are banned for now, although the less popular 40-watt and 60-watt bulbs are expected to come under the ban by 2012. Stores are not permitted to order more once supplies run out. British Columbia — the only province in Canada that has a ban on incandescent bulbs — plans to introduce similar restrictions on 40W and 60W incandescent bulbs starting Dec. 31, 2012." ~~ CBC News

As it turns out, CFLs have their problems as well, and in fact may be dangerous if they are broken or are not properly discarded, and can release harmful mercury into landfills and watersheds. Oh, good...

We have turned our cities into a ghastly shade of orange with the sodium vapour street lights, and now we will be turning our homes into fluorescent hell. What effect will this have on us psychologically? Canada lives in near darkness for much of the year. Our daylight hours are short, and we rely on artificial light. Light has a huge influence on our psychological well-being. Orange cities, fluorescent homes ~~ how long will it be before we go stark raving mad?

Apparently folks have been hoarding the traditional incandescent light bulbs, and I'm one of those folks. Every time I go into a supermarket, a drug store or a hardware store, I load up my cart.

I believe we have a say in how much of our standard of living is dictated to us. This draconian law of telling us we can no longer use incandescent light bulbs is going too far. Not enough research has been done on the effects of CFLs on people and their home environment.

I'm off shopping today, folks. If you see a woman carrying a huge tote bag of light bulbs, stop and say hello.

Katherine Johanna and Thomas Edward

2011-07-20T20:07:00.000-07:00

These are my grandparents. Like every little kid, I adored my grandparents. Granny always smelled of raspberry jam, and gave me big, smothering, hugs. Granddad always smelled of pipe smoke, and was very stern, but I learned a lot of things from him. They ended up in Canada eventually, by an interesting circuitous route. My grandmother was born and raised in South Africa and her family owned a vineyard in the Paarl Valley. She was a descendent of the original Huguenots who fled from Provence, France, and took cuttings of their vineyards with them. Her family was successful in South Africa, and she grew up very much a young woman of privilege. But she had a wonderful sense of humour and a great laugh. She would laugh at her own jokes, and slap her knee when she did it. She was wonderful.

My grandfather was in the British Army, and he went to South Africa to fight in the Boer War. He also had grown up in a family of privilege in Yorkshire, England, and was well-educated and a great rugby player. He had a silver whistle which I recently gave to Phinnaeus, when Phinnaeus became a soccer referee. He says when he blows that whistle, you can hear it for two miles. My grandfather taught my brothers to play chess, and he had a silver flute which he used to play in the evenings at sunset. Whenever I visited my grandparents, I used to drift off to sleep to the sound of my grandfather's silver flute playing softly in the background. To me, my grandparents were larger than life, and they were like no one else I had ever known. They talked about far-away places and magical things that I could never even imagine in my wildest dreams.

When they passed away, they were buried side-by-side under a beautiful tree, in a cemetery here in the Lower Mainland. Today I received a phone call from Phinnaeus, asking me exactly where they were. Well, I must confess I have never been there, and I thought it was a strange request, but I told him which cemetery it was and how to find it. A couple of hours later, he called me to say that he had found their final resting places, under the beautiful old tree, at the top of a hill. They they were ~~ Katherine Johanna and Thomas Edward. He said they had lovely headstones.

It gave me the most amazing feeling that I cannot describe, to know that Phinnaeus had visited his great-great-grandparents. It was as if there were a silver thread of continuity from my grandparents to my grandson, and in a strange way it made me feel complete. Phinnaeus has been going through some of the usual struggles of a 15 year-old lately, searching for his own identity, and there occasionally are some rocky patches on his journey, but I was touched that he took the time to pay respect to two people who are very much a part of the identity that he is seeking.

Phinnaeus has promised to show me my grandparents' final resting place. Maybe we'll take the silver whistle and give it a good, loud toot for the Captain and Katherine.

Typhoid Mary...

2011-07-20T07:56:00.000-07:00

Evocation of Butterflies
1911
Odilon Redon

This gorgeous painting has nothing to do with my post; I just love butterflies, and Odilon Redon is my favourite artist, so I wanted to share this with you. I suppose you have been wondering (or perhaps you have not been wondering) where I have been for the past several days. Well, I'll tell you. Typhoid Mary came to work and spread a really nasty upper respiratory tract infection amongst all her co-workers, and I managed to catch it. We work in an organization that actually gives seminars on how to wash hands and avoid infection. We are told that if we are sick, to stay home. Of course, Typhoid Mary shared her nasty little bug with us, coughing and hacking all over the office, and when we told her to go home she said, "Oh, but I have too much work to do..." In the meantime, her colleagues were dropping like flies. Of course, it would never occur to Typhoid Mary to cover her mouth when she coughs or sneezes. Goodness, no...

The irony is, we are actually participating in a study, as we speak, that is going to be published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. What is the study, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. The study is how infections spread throughout a workplace. We have to wear a little dog-tag, and it is being tracked by sensors in the ceilings throughout the buildings. It shows the patterns of our movements, the folks with whom we are in contact, and so on. I told the study guides the other day they don't need to gather research from the sensors, all they have to do is follow Typhoid Mary. She is consistently the same person who brings infections into the office.

*cough*

In the meantime, I am sitting at home today, my chest covered with Vicks VapoRub and a warm towel, a box of Kleenex at one side, my bottle of Buckleys cough syrup (it tastes awful but it works) on the other side ~~ and watching the beautiful Monarch butterflies fluttering by outside my window. I'll be back to visit all my wonderful bloggy friends very soon, as soon as I have the energy.

*hacheeewww*

A Noisy Noise Annoys An Oyster...

2011-07-15T08:04:00.000-07:00

Annoying, The Science of What Bugs Us
I'm reading a really good book right now that confirms what I have already suspected ~~ I am not neurotic. It turns out there is an actual science to what annoys us. Fingernails on a blackboard, a fly buzzing around us when we are trying to sleep, a noise in the background while we are trying to concentrate, those annoying cell phone calls we all have to listen to while other folks chatter away ~~ even the person next to us in the movie theatre who nervously keeps jiggling their knee up and down ~~ these annoyances all have basis in science. Who knew?

My next door neighbours annoy the h*ll out of me. They're in their mid-20s, but they dress and act like four-year-olds. Every night they're outside in their backyard playing some childish game, I'm not sure what it is, but it involves wooden containers and hacky sack balls. Every time one of them scores a hit, they all hoop and holler, and the women scream and whistle ~~ you'd think the Canucks had just won the Stanley Cup. It's so annoying.

There is even a scientific reason why spouses annoy each other. "With spouses, we know that our partners know our hot buttons, and it's even more annoying when our partners bring them up".

Intentionality of action may factor significantly in the annoying quotient. A door slammed by the wind is way less annoying than a door slammed by an angry spouse. This intentional 'pushing too hard' isn't limited to adult relationships. "Kids do this a lot with their parents, and parents with their kids'. Children will deliberately not clean up their rooms, will drink milk directly from the container, and will not hand in their homework as a way to annoy a parent who sets a curfew too early or refuses to raise an allowance. Many of these annoyances will be overlooked when there is a commitment in a relationship and will be exaggerated when there is not. Growing annoyance can be a sign of trouble to come." ~~ Annoying, the Science of What Bugs Us

One of my co-workers coughs ... constantly. It sound exactly like a dog barking ~~ also an annoying sound. Another co-worker scrapes her chair back and forth against the side of her desk, sounding exactly like fingernails on a blackboard. *shudder* It drives me crazy, however, after reading this book, I'm glad to know that I am perfectly normal in being annoyed by these things that otherwise seem insignificant. It's science. Apparently there is even a scientific explanation as to why we are annoyed with listening to other folks' cell phone calls. The human brain is progammed to hear both sides of a conversation, and it doesn't 'compute' when it can hear only one side, thereby annoying us. Interesting.

Now I am heading off to work, and because it's raining I have to wear my jacket, my boots and carry my umbrella ~~ in the middle of July. It's so annoying...

These Shoes Are Made For Walking...

2011-07-12T07:44:00.000-07:00

The Old Tower of Nuenen with People Walking
Vincent Van Gogh
1884

I have always enjoyed walking, but lately I have not been doing enough of it. One gets ~~ lazy. My job entails mostly sitting, and then I come home and do more of the same, and the first thing I know I have become sedentary. And I don't like it. Walking is fun and it releases endorphins, which in turn actually makes our brains work better and lowers our stress levels. And walking doesn't cost anything, which fits right into my budget.

The important thing for me is to have a good pair of shoes, and I detest sneakers. Whoever invented sneakers decided to invent the ugliest shoes known to man, and then make them comfortable. Do ugly shoes have to be comfortable, and vice versa? No one looks good in sneakers. They're ghastly things. But last year I discovered Sketcher's flip/flops. (No, this isn't an advertisement for Sketcher's...) They're just the most comfortable shoes I have ever worn ~~ ever. I think I could probably walk from here to Richmond in those shoes, and my feet wouldn't get tired. I don't know what it is, they're just wonderful. We have a policy at work where we are not permitted to wear open-toed shoes, sandals or flip/flops of any sort, but I thumb my nose at their silly policy. Just try to get these shoes off my feet ~~ I dare anyone! They're made for walking. Every day my poor little feet say, "Thank you, thank you...". So, during these cooler summer months, when the weather is perfect for walking, if you see someone strolling along, wave and say "Hi!", because that will be me. I'm enjoying walking again. It's wonderful.

Navel Gazing...

2011-07-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

The Harem Dance
Giulio Rosati (1858–1917)

Until now, I thought the only thing that grew in belly buttons was lint. But, apparently our belly buttons are home to a lot more little critters than that. Are you aware that one of the richest biodiversity locations in the world is ~~ your belly button? Yes it is. Using volunteers, scientists at the Belly Button Diversity project have located 1400 different bacteria living in belly buttons, 662 of which are new species. The volunteers included science bloggers, North Carolina State students, and staff at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences. They were asked to put cotton swabs in their belly buttons and turn them around three times. The swabs were then placed in cultures and the bacteria was grown. One of the volunteers, who regularly washes out his belly button daily, was found to be bacteria-free, while another volunteer was found to have 53 different species of bacteria, one of which had only previously been found in soil samples in Japan.

Ewwwww

According to Jiri Hulcr, a post-doctoral candidate at North Carolina State University, "The belly button is protected, making it a safe haven for normal skin microbes”. That gives all of the bacteria that are normally found on other parts of the skin a chance to thrive, unthreatened by the oils or other secretions produced on other areas of the body.

If you want to see pictures of what may be growing in your belly button, you can check here.

Okay, the last one into the shower is a rotten egg ~~ literally.

The Divorce Ceremony...

2011-07-09T09:24:00.000-07:00

The Japanese have an interesting culture ~~ very different from ours. In many ways, it's pragmatic, minimalistic and rather sensible. When things go wrong in their lives, they learn to cope in practical ways, and they don't seem to be encumbered with the emotional baggage that we in the West carry with us. Many of the decisions we make are impeded with feelings of guilt, responsibility, duty, the desire for a lifestyle that we are told we should want, when in fact many of us don't want it. You know the drill ~~ marriage, a house, two cars, 2.5 children, all the best appliances ~~ a guilded nest. The nest becomes our life and then for some of us it becomes our prison.

When I was married, I was not happy being married. To me, it felt as if I were trying to squeeze my feet into someone else's shoes. They were painful, and they did not fit. I admire people who have happy and successful marriages, but I often look at them and wonder, "Are they really, honestly happy, or have they made a huge compromise?"

According to a recent article in The Huffington Post, 50% of all marriages fail. Of the 50% that remain, 25% of those are unhappy, leaving 25% as satisfactory. That means, three-quarters of all the married folks out there would rather be somewhere else. Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. The author of the article suggests, "Specifically, take an honest look at your marriage as it exists today. With your partner, confront whether you want it to continue. That is, your aim is to clarify whether you want to stay with this person for the rest of your life." It takes a lot of courage to walk away.

The Japanese have an answer for that ~~ a divorce ceremony. The inventor of the ceremony, Hiroki Terai explains, “I started this ceremony...thinking that there should be a positive way to end a marriage and move on by making a vow to restart (a couple’s) lives in front of loved ones.” Terai officiates the ritual. He thanks the witnesses for coming, explains how the couple has grown apart, and acknowledges that it is time for the husband and wife to say farewell. Then, the couple continues to act out the end of the marriage.

•While jointly holding a hammer, the husband and wife pound the wife's wedding ring until it is beyond repair.
•There is a divorce reception after the ring-smashing ceremony, where the couple sits back-to-back at separate tables.
•After the large feast or small meal, the couple thanks their friends for coming and says farewell to each other.
•Each spouse bows toward the other and walks off to begin his or her separate life.

A divorce is like a death. There is a certain amount of grieving that needs to take place, and then folks need to move on. What better way to do it than with a ceremony finalizing that chapter of their lives? We all want to believe in the "dream", but for some people it just doesn't work, and no one should be made to feel guilty. Trust the Japanese to come up with a civilized solution.

Summer Breeze, Make Me Feel Fine...

2011-07-06T20:59:00.000-07:00

This is English Bay in Vancouver, just moments ago. Does it get any more beautiful than that? This evening after work, I headed straight for the beach and had a hot dog and an ice cream cone for dinner. (That covers all the main food groups, doesn't it? Protein, starch, vegs and dairy. Come on, humour me ~~ I'm trying to convince myself.)

English Bay is a magical place, the jewel around which Vancouver is built. I have swum in English Bay, I have sailed on it, and I have even rowed a row boat on it, and I never get tired of it, and it never ceases to amaze me with its beauty.

Of course, this being Vancouver, it will probably rain tomorrow but even in stormy weather, English Bay is wonderful.

Summer In The City...

2011-07-03T13:24:00.000-07:00

On days like this, I am so happy to be living in my little tree house by the sea. I can feel the ocean breezes and listen to the seagulls telling each other jokes. And then they laugh and laugh. This part of Vancouver has always been my favourite neighbourhood. It very much has a seaside flavour to it. In the 1960s Kitsilano was taken over by the "hippies" and they preseved all of the older buildings, so that developers could not come in and tear them down in order to build highrises.

When I was a little girl, my Uncle Fred and Aunt Coleta lived in this house, which is close to where I live now. In the evenings after dinner, Uncle Fred and Aunt Coleta would take me for walks through the neighbourhood and we would always end up at my favourite ice cream stand on Kitsilano Beach. Uncle Fred would always ask me what flavour I would like, and I always said vanilla. It's still my favourite. The ice cream stand is no longer there, but thankfully the house still is, and it has been restored to its original grandeur. I always thought the house was very grand when I was a little girl, and I still do.

The houses in Kitsilano are famous for their English Country gardens, and most of them don't stop at the front yard. On my walk yesterday, I chuckled at this wonderful clematis growing around a telephone pole. Most of the intersections have circular traffic calmers, and folks have gardening contests to see which traffic calmer can have the most beautiful garden. You will see everything from wild grasses to hollyhocks and roses at every intersection. They give the whole neighbourhood a feeling of being in a wonderful park.

We can sometimes have long, wet, dreary winters here in Vancouver, but when summer hits, its hits with a bang. There is fairly low humidity, so the air feels comfortable. It's the best place to be.

Now I am going to sit in my Adirondack chairs and have a ~~Long Island iced~~ tea, and listen to the seagulls telling jokes.

Cheers!

Happy Canada Day, Eh...?

2011-07-01T17:32:00.000-07:00

I may be just slightly biased, but I think Canada is the greatest country in the world in which to live. Well, apparently the United Nations Human Development Index agrees with me, and says that Canada has the highest quality of life in the world. Well ... I knew that. Around the world, we are known as that little country just north of That Other Big Country across the border, but I'll bet there are a lot of things about Canada that you didn't know. Right? Well, here are a few little facts about Canada that just might surprise you:

1. Canada is the largest exporter of total petroleum to the United States.

2. Crude Oil Imports by the U.S. (Thousand Barrels per Day). Year to date so far in 2001:
Canada         2142
Saudi Arabia 1102
Mexico         1097
Venezuela       923

3. Canada is the second largest country in the world at 9,984,670 square kilometers. Russia is the largest at 17,075,200 square kilometres.

4. Canada has over two million lakes and the most fresh water of any country in the world.

5. Albert Einstein once lived in a small town called Canwood Saskatchewan for a short period of time so he could have some solitude, and he played goalie for the Canwood Canucks hockey team. He had played hockey in his younger years in Germany.

6. The Trans-Canada Highway is over 7604 kilometres in length and is the longest national highway in the entire world.

7. Canada has the ninth biggest economy of the world and is the world's eighth biggest trader.

8. Canada is the home of many great inventions, including: basketball, the electric light bulb, ice hockey, the baseball glove, the electric range, the electron microscope, insulin, standard time, the television, the telephone, Trivial Pursuit and the zipper. Oh, and botox.

9. Canada has the world's highest tertiary education enrolment, and the residents of Toronto hold more university degrees than any other city in the world.

10. Canada has the largest polar bear population of any country.

11. Canada has ten provinces and three territories, and the total population of Canada is 34,278,400 which is less than the State of California.

12. Della Falls, which is located on Vancouver Island, is the tallest waterfall in Canada, at 1443 feet in height. In comparison, Niagara Falls is only 180 feet in height.

13. Canada has the longest coastline of any country in the world at 151,600 miles.

14. The literacy rate in Canada is over 99%.

15. There are more donut shops per capita in Canada than any other country.

16. Justin Beiber is Canadian.

17. Canada produces so much energy, that it provides to the U.S. as well.

18. In 1967, the IMAX film system was invented by Canadian Ivan Grame Ferguson to premier at Expo 67.

19. The average life expectancy at birth for a Canadian is 81.16 years, the eighth highest in the world. The United States ranks 46th, at 78.14 years.

20. The Moosehead Brewery in Saint John, New Brunswick, turns out 1,642 bottles of beer per minute.

21. The world's strongest current is found in the Nakwakto Rapids at Slingsby Channel, British Columbia. The current has been measured at speeds up to 18.4 miles per hour.

22. Canada is also home to the longest street in the world. Yonge Street in Ontario starts at Lake Ontario, and runs north through Ontario to the Minnesota border, a distance of almost 2000 kilometres.

23. Actor Leslie Nielsen was Canadian and his brother Erik was the Deputy Prime Minister of Canada for two years, from 1984 to 1986.

24. Actor Raymond Massey was Canadian and his brother Vincent was the Governor General of Canada for seven years, from 1952 to 1959. Their father was the owner of Massey Harris which later became Massey Ferguson, the manufacturer of agricultural equipment.

25. Famous Canadians include: Nelly Furtado, Keanu Reeves, Pamela Anderson, Jim Carrey, Dan Aykroyd, Lorne Michaels, Neil Young, Avril Lavigne, Kim Cattrall, Guy Lombardo, Peter Jennings, Shania Twain, Sarah McLachlan, Jennifer Tilley, Alanis Morisette, Gordon Lightfoot, Bryan Adams, Wayne Gretzky, Lorne Greene, David Foster, Martin Short, Howie Mandel, Ryan Reynolds, Paul Anka, Mary Pickford, Rich Little, John Kenneth Galbraith, Hayden Christensen, Diana Krall, Joni Mitchell, Oscar Peterson, Lucy Maude Montgomery, Raymond Burr, Eric McCormack, Michael Bublé, James Cameron, John Candy, Matthew Perry, Jason Priestly, Art Linkletter, Morley Safer, Paul Shaffer, Cirque de Soleil, k.d. lang, Christopher Plummer, Celine Dion, Monty Hall, Hank Snow, both Scotty and Captain Kirk, Michael J. Fox, Frank Gehry (architect), James Gosling (author of Java computer language), Rick Moranis, W.P. Kinsella ("Field of Dreams"), Alex Trebek, Robert MacNeil (The MacNeil/Lehrer Report), Rachel McAdams ("The Notebook"), Mike Myers, Joe Shuster (creator of "Superman"), Donald and Kiefer Sutherland. I'll bet you didn't know some of those folks were Canadian, did you?

26. I have never seen a dog sled, snow shoes or an igloo. I have, however, ridden on a skidoo. I do say, "eh?" A lot.

Great list, eh?

Life As An Edna Ferber Novel...

2011-07-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Do you ever find yourself thinking, on occasion, that life is like an Edna Ferber novel? Our lives go along day to day, and suddenly a generation has passed, and during that time, a story of epic proportions has been told. Today, July 1st would have been Diana, Princess of Wales's 50th birthday. She was first introduced to the world as the shy English rose, who glanced out from under her long, side-swept bangs, and hairdressers all over the world were besieged by young women who demanded a "Di job". That adulation was the beginning of the road to her early demise at the age of 36. In this photograph the changes she underwent along that journey are clearly visible; she transformed into a completely different person. What happened along the way? How did Shi Di turn into the woman that Prime Minister Tony Blair awkwardly nicknamed "The People's Princess"?

In Edna Ferber's novels, usually the main character was a strong female, who underwent hardships and often discrimination of one sort or another. Several of Edna Ferber's novels were made into movies, including "Show Boat", "Giant", "So Big", "Ice Palace", "Saratoga Trunk" and "Cimarron". Lady Diana's life could have been an Edna Ferber novel ~~ the young woman as a victim, who marries into a family whom she feels doesn't value her. She struggles, but she overcomes the feelings of oppression, and produces two wonderful sons who grow up into fine young men to carry on the dynasty. It's all there ~~ in epic proportions.

As Diana's life went along to its fateful end, I felt she was spinning out of control. She had become the victim of her own celebrity, but she had also bought into her own myth. Was that her fault, or her admirers? I suppose we'll never know. It's too sad for words. Perhaps Edna Ferber might have thought of a happier ending to this woman's story. Perhaps she would be celebrating her 50th birthday today, surrounded by her friends and family, rather than as a tragic figure lying in a grave, surrounded by a lake in the quiet English countryside.

I'm Baaaaack..... Watch This Space

2011-06-29T08:09:00.000-07:00

This past week has been rather overwhelming, and I haven't had an opportunity to open my blog. I'm not even sure anyone reads it anymore... In any case, we have been going through the accreditation process at work, so by the time I come home in the evenings, sitting at a computer is just about the last thing I want to do, right behind putting burning matches under my fingernails.

Typing? At home? For leisure...?

I don't think so.

In Canada, we have a three-day weekend coming up. Friday is Canada Day, and the Dude* and Duchess of Cambridge will be making their first official royal nine-day tour of Canada, starting on Thursday, June 30th. I would love to see them, but their tour includes almost all of Canada ~~ except British Columbia. And then they're off to the razzle-dazzle of Hollywood. British Royalty used to have a certain je ne sais quoi ~~ a mystique ~~ but in the 21st Century they have come out from behind the palace walls onto the pages of People Magazine and Entertainment Tonight. Is that good or bad? I'm not sure. Perhaps their days are numbered, in any case.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." ~~ William Shakespeare

Have a fabulous long weekend, everyone. Happy Canada Day to my Canadian friends, and Happy Independence Day to my American friends.

I'll be back soon. Watch this space.

*yes, Dude, his official title... :-)

Well, I'll Be Darned...

2011-06-24T08:13:00.000-07:00

Despite the bad publicity our city received lately with the Stanley Cup riots, Vancouver has once again been ranked by Economist Magazine as the number one city in the world in which to live. Apparently Vancouver scored 98 out of a maximum 100, as it has done for the past two years. Okay, that's just insane. Vancouver? Has the Economist Magazine ever been to Paris? Apparently, Paris came in at number 16.

The top U.S. city was Pittsburgh at number 29, with Los Angeles moving up to 44th place and New York coming in at 56th. London moved up one place to 53rd while Paris came in at number 16. The top Asian city was Osaka at number 12, tying Geneva, Switzerland and beating out the Japanese capital of Tokyo, which came in at 18. ~~ Economist Magazine

London at 53? New York at 56?

Well, I must admit that when I visited those two cities and then came back to Vancouver, I was impressed with what a beautiful city I live in, compared to London and New York. It's like a jewel in comparison. But as far as excitement and energy, New York has Vancouver beat ~~ hands down. London was a bit too large in my estimation, and the traffic is crazy. Paris is beautiful, but a bit claustrophobic and the streets are dirty. I bought a beautiful pair of soft buttery leather shoes in Paris, and the first thing I did when I wore them outdoors was to step in a lovely little pile of dog poop. It's everywhere in Paris.

But, yes, Vancouver is beautiful, it's cosmopolitan, we have great schools and universities, a fabulous cultural scene, and more. We're fortunate to be surrounded by the ocean and mountains, giving us a setting that feels as if we're in a jewel box. And if you come to visit us sometime, we promise not to riot.

Is It Live, Or Is It Memorex ... Part Two

2011-06-20T22:12:00.000-07:00

Until this weekend, I had never heard of Rory McIlroy. I'm not a golf fan, and to me, watching golf is about as exciting as ... well ... watching the grass grow. And then I heard about Rory McIlroy. My daughter phoned me and said, "Google Rory McIlroy; who does he look just like?" I burst out laughing. He looks exactly like Phinnaeus. Even the little hairs between his eyebrows are identical. And his teeth. And his cheeks. And his nose. And his curly hair. And his smile. It's uncanny. The only difference is, Rory McIlroy has brown eyes, and Phinnaeus's eyes are very blue. In fact, I can even see Phinnaeus's mother in this picture. The similarities are almost eerie. How on earth does that happen?

Both Rory and Phinnaeus have a background from Northern Ireland. I often tease Phinnaeus that he looks as if he should be wearing a kilt and throwing the hammer or doing the shot put in the Celtic Scottish/Irish Highland Games. So possibly, way back when ... there is a connection somehow.

Phinnaeus is very much his own person. He's smart and funnier than blazes. The other day we went to his band concert, and as his mother, Marigold and I were walking out to the lobby during intermission, we came upon Phinnaeus chatting up a cute little redhead who looked a bit like Emma Watson from the "Harry Potter" movies. He introduced us, and later he told us she was the girl who said he had "dreamy eyes". Oh, goodness, wasn't it just last week I was taking him for walks around the neighbourhood ... in his stroller? How on earth did he get dreamy eyes? What did that happen?

Phinnaeus and Marigold's parents don't want me to post pictures of them on my blog, so this is the closest I can get ~~ a picture of Rory McIlroy. Is it live or is it Memorex? I don't know. The more I look at it, I'm just not sure.

Never Trouble Trouble...

2011-06-20T08:07:00.000-07:00

What do you see when you look at this glass? Is it half full, or is it half empty? I prefer to see it as half full. Seeing the glass as half full is a choice we can all make. If we count our blessings, most of us will discover we have more blessings than we realize. I feel very bad for people who don't understand this concept, who can only see the glass as half empty. They judge their lives by what they don't have, rather than by what they do have.

My grandmother used to say, "Never trouble trouble until trouble troubles you." That's very good advice. It's all relative. If people are going to be sad and angry over the small things in life, how are they going to cope with the really important things? Anger is one of the most useless emotions, and I have seen anger ruin lives.

Anger is a natural part of the human psyche, a response to fight or flight, and it is necessary when one is being attacked by a sabre-tooth tiger or a Tyrannosaurus rex. Both humans and animals behave the same way when they're angry; they make loud sounds, attempt to look physically larger, bare their teeth, and stare. It's frightening for the people around them -- who often get angry in return, thereby escalating the already volatile situation. Anger begets anger. Folks become afraid of the anger because they never know when it is going to strike. My mother was angry and yelling all the time, and we were constantly on tenterhooks. Because our mother was always angry, we thought she didn't love us, or even like us. It changed who we were.

"People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing." ~~ Will Rogers

We all get angry occasionally; it's human nature. But there are varying degrees of anger, starting with mild annoyance, all the way to rage. Annoyance can be headed off at the pass before it becomes uncontrollable rage. Anger has an adverse effect not only on the victims, but on the person who is angry. Heart rate, blood pressure, and levels of adrenaline and noradrenaline increase. There is a theory that the "shot" of adrenaline becomes addictive, and the angry person needs more and more, much like any addict. They become addicted to the "rush" of their anger.

"Anger dwells only in the bosom of fools." ~~ Albert Einstein

"Once we fully accept other people as they are without the slightest judgement or reservation – as all the enlightened beings accept us – then there is no basis for problems in our relations with others. Problems do not exist outside our mind, so when we stop seeing other people as problems they stop being problems. The person who is a problem to a non-accepting mind does not exist in the calm, clear space of patient acceptance.

Patient acceptance not only helps us, it also helps those with whom we are patient. Being accepted feels very different to being judged. When someone feels judged they automatically become tight and defensive, but when they feel accepted they can relax, and this allows their good qualities to come to the surface. Patience always solves our inner problems, but often it solves problems between people as well." ~~ Anger Management Techniques

People who are quick to anger don't understand how hurtful and painful their anger is, especially on the people who love them the most. It's confusing and distressing for everyone, but anger is also so easy to control. It's so easy...

"Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw, rarely solve whatever problem is causing them." ~~ Lemony Snicket

Unsung Heroes...

2011-06-18T09:39:00.000-07:00

Man on the Street
Theodore Gericault

Despite all actions to the contrary in recent days, I believe in the goodness of people. I think we all possess empathy and compassion towards our fellow man. Yesterday as I was walking along a street in Vancouver, I saw a homeless man who had collapsed on his knees. His hair was stringy and unkempt, his clothes were dirty and torn, and he looked as if he had fallen to his lowest point in life; he was in the gutter. A couple of men had rushed to his aid, one fellow holding his hand, talking to him soothingly, while the other called 911 Emergency. The fellow holding the fallen man's hand was very large and rather intimidating, and I would imagine that in many parts of the world, unfortunately, he would be treated with a certain amount of suspicion. And when he spoke, I had never heard such kindness.

"You will be okay, just try to breathe, and don't be frightened. We're here with you and we're not going to leave you until the medics get here. You're okay... you're okay..."

The fallen man was on his knees, and his jeans were exposing part of his buttocks. Another man came out of his shop with a small piece of cloth and covered the exposed man's shame. It struck me then what a kind, thoughtful gesture that was. The two men stayed with the fallen man and held his hand until the ambulance arrived, and he was quickly taken away.

Every day there are unsung heroes in our midst. We never know who these good Samaritans are, or if we will one day need them ourselves. After witnessing the horror of the Vancouver riots, my faith in humanity was badly shaken, but it has once again been restored by these two kind men.

To The Victors Belong The Spoils...

2011-06-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

Last night a bunch of thugs descended on Vancouver and used the 7th game of the Stanley Cup playoffs as an excuse to trash our beautiful city. These yobs were not Canucks fans, they are professional anarchists that travel from city to city and create havoc. They attempted to do the same thing during the 2010 Winter Olympics, and they trashed Toronto during the G20 Global Economic summit last year, smashing windows and setting fire to police cars, just as they did in Vancouver last night. They're not Vancouver Canucks fans, and many of them are not from British Columbia. They're organized, and they're armed with mace, knives and molotov cocktails. And they were prepared to riot whether the Canucks won or lost.

Vancouver Canucks fans are passionate about their team, and they were understandably disappointed that the Stanley Cup was won by the Boston Bruins. The Canucks should have won ~~ or at least, they should not have lost. They were the best team in the league this year. But in the spirit of true sportsmanship, everyone knows the Bruins played a better game last night, and they won fair and square. No one disputes that, least of all the Canucks fans. So, to the folks out there who think this rioting was being done by disheartened Canucks fans, it was not. The true Canucks fans are on the streets of Vancouver today, cleaning up the mess left by these yahoos, who by now have probably ~~crawled back under their rocks~~ gone back to wherever they live.

These creeps have ruined the spirit of the Stanley Cup in Vancouver and they have given Vancouver a bad name. In my opinion, that is a bigger disappointment than the Canucks losing the Cup. The rioters' faces are plastered all over YouTube and in photographs, and the police will get them.

Congratulations to Boston ~~ you played a good game, and thanks to the Canucks for doing us proud.

A Purely Scientific Study...

2011-06-14T10:20:00.000-07:00

Raise your hands, any of you folks out there who ~~often~~ occasionally fall asleep in front of the TV in the evenings. I must confess, I doze off in front of the television quite regularly. When I was in my 20s, I had a very comfortable, butter yellow leather recliner, and I would put my feet up, turn on my favourite television program, and before I knew it ... ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz..... Now, I often curl up in my big cozy chair, put on my favourite program ... and wake up two hours later. Sometimes I have the best sleep, when I can hear the voices gently droning in the background.

Most of us lead busy lives. We get up early, we go to work and put in a full day's work, often pushing through the detritus of stressful days. We are given two days at the end of each week in which to relax, but usually those days are taken up with the day-to-day business of taking care of chores. When do we really rest?

My purely scientific study is: how many people, after a busy 15 or 16 hour day, doze off on the chesterfield in the evenings? I have been doing this all my life. My bad? I don't know. You tell me. Enquiring minds want to know...

H*ll's Half Acre...

2011-06-13T00:02:00.000-07:00

You see this field here? This is what is known as h*ll's half acre, and yesterday I spent two ~~days~~ hours there. The day started out pleasantly enough. My friend Leslie and I met at the RiverRock Train Station and drove out to Ladner for the Ladner Village Market. We had lunch at a lovely little pub by the marina. It was a gorgeous day, not too hot, filtered sunlight... We stopped after lunch and had an ice cream cone and strolled through the market. I bought a couple of books for Marigold about a little girl her age who lived in Marigold's home town in the 1800s. I thought she might enjoy it.

The market was hot and crowded, so Leslie and I took a drive over to the other side of the marina, and sat in the cool shade and chatted for a while. There is something so very peaceful about a marina, and the sound of the water lapping against the hulls. When it was time for me to come home, Leslie drove me over to the Ladner bus exchange so I could catch the bus back to the RiverRock train station, and make my way back to Vancouver. At the Ladner exchange, Leslie checked which bus I should catch, and at which Bay. No. 601 at bay 5. Okay.

I got on the No. 601, and after about twenty minutes of watching farm land rolling by, I began to realize we were not heading towards Vancouver. Apparently there are two No. 601 buses and I had caught the wrong one. The passengers and the bus driver were very helpful. They suggested I get off the bus, cross over to the other side of the road, and catch the No. 601 going in the opposite direction. That bus, they said, would take me to my train destination. Okay, thanks. I got off the bus in a remote, unfamiliar part of the country, crossed the road and waited ... and waited ... and waited ... for almost 45 minutes, my eyes peeled on the horizon looking for a bus, any bus. I was hot, I was thirsty and I was lost ~~ I had no idea where I was. Finally a familiar-looking bus with the No. 601 pulled up at my stop. It was the same bus from which I had disembarked across the road 45 minutes earlier, with the same bus driver.

"Hi...! You should have just stayed on this bus."

"Are you freakin' kidding me?"

I still wasn't convinced this bus would actually get me back to civilization. For just an instant, I had a small frisson of fear that I had stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone, and I was doomed forever to ride the No. 601 throughout the never-ending bucolic countryside. I wasn't sure I was even in British Columbia anymore. It could have been anywhere. But all's well that ends well. I'm home, back in the city, and I have lots of photos of horses and cows and barns...

And incidentally, the No. 601 bus that gets you back to the city is at Bay 2. That No. 601 at Bay 5? It goes to h*ll's half acre ... and beyond. And believe me, you don't really want to know what's out there.

The Invisible Scrambling Device...

2011-06-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

The Key
Jackson Pollock
1949

Last night there were 100,000 Vancouver Canucks hockey fans jammed into downtown Vancouver to watch the fifth game of the Stanley Cup finals. I was not one of them. I prefer to watch the games from the sanctity of my tree house.

In the past few years I have discovered something about myself: I love my solitude. For five days a week I work in a busy, noisy, vibrant office, where from hour to hour there is always some sort of a crisis. There is no such thing as prioritizing work, or planning the day, because of the constant barrage of emergencies and calamities. Hustle, bustle ... noise. When I get home at the end of the day, and lock the door behind me, I am completely refreshed by the airiness and freshness of the trees outside my window. I don't feel at all as if I am in the middle of a city of 2 million people.

At one time in my life, I thought just about the most dreadful thing that could possibly happen to me was to be alone. Oh, goodness, no. How awful was that to be alone...? But now I cherish my "alone time", so that I can also cherish the time I am with family and friends. I love socializing and enjoying the company of other people, especially knowing I can eventually go home to the blissful sounds of silence.

Is this a bad thing? Have I become a recluse? I hope not.

At times I am rather confused by human interaction. I believe that, during some conversations, there is an invisible scrambling device that exists somewhere between the "sender" and the "receiver". A completely innocuous statement or question will be picked up by this invisible scrambler and translated into something entirely different before it reaches the receiver's ears. A simple questions such as,

"Is it raining today, do I need my umbrella?" will travel through the scrambler and reach the receiver's ears as,

"Why on earth didn't you tell me it was going to rain, I don't have my umbrella with me!"

to which the receiver will respond,

"Are you blaming me because it's raining? How is it my fault it's raining? I have control over the weather? How on earth do I have any control over the weather!"

*sigh*

Folks hear what the scrambler has construed. I'm not very good at those sorts of exchanges, and I don't know how to de-escalate them.

"Oh, Gawd, that's not what I meant!"

Many times a day I see this same scenario occuring among people.

"Did you hear what he just said? What did he mean by that?"

The invisible scrambler is the greatest cause of miscommunication and animosity between two otherwise very nice, reasonable folks. So, increasingly I enjoy my own company. At least when I say something, I understand what I mean. I know I have no hidden agenda.

Today, "me, myself and I" are going to go for a long walk on the beach and enjoy our own company. Have a wonderful weekend, folks.

The Rowan Tree...

2011-06-07T12:07:00.000-07:00

I have lived in my tree house for 14 years, and during that time I have watched the trees outside my windows grow and change. They're home to nests of birds, as well as to families of squirrels and the occasional raccoon and skunk. The Japanese plum trees and the cherry trees provide a colourful show of pink blossoms in the spring, and then brilliant red and orange leaves in the fall. Of all the trees, my favourite is the Rowan tree (Mountain Ash) which grows on the property next door, just outside my bedroom window. I love to watch it as it changes throughout the seasons. First the leaves develop, and then the white berries grow and they change to bright red in the late summer. In the fall, flocks of birds feast on the berries and then fly around drunk, crashing into each other. It's a hoot.

This year I have been waiting for the leaves to appear on the Rowan tree and I wondered why they were taking so long, while everything else was already in full leaf. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I realized the leaves will never appear on the tree again. It has been choked to death by the ivy growing up its trunk. The beautiful Mountain Ash ~~ by which I measured the seasons, watching its leaves and berries ~~ has gone forever. Every time I look at it, I think of the Giant's garden in Oscar Wilde's "The Selfish Giant". Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. "I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."

The folks who own that property have been hiring professional landscapers to look after the grounds and mow the lawn, so I expect one day to come home and find the tree gone. I must admit, I don't think the landscapers have done a very good job and I will miss the Rowan tree and the crazy, drunken birds. What a difference one tree can make.

Dare To Bloom...

2011-06-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

(click to magnify)

Isn't this a hoot? I forgot to prune this clematis back in the fall, but it was determined to blossom anyway and it has produced more blooms this year than it ever has before. I think that says something about determination, doesn't it? Or perhaps it speaks volumes about the will to survive and thrive. All living things have it ~~ survival of the fittest. I water this clematis every day and admire its tenacity and beauty. It's quite unique ~~ a topic of conversation amongst my neighbours. I guess the moral of the story is, don't be afraid to be different. Beauty can spring from anywhere. Dare to bloom, even when the odds appear to be against it.

Salt Air And Sea Breezes...

2011-06-04T11:29:00.000-07:00

Today, June 4th, is the anniversary of my move to Vancouver. My first day here, I rode across Burrard Bridge towards Kitsilano Beach, and this view took my breath away. The place where I grew up on Vancouver Island was beautiful too, but not like this. Nothing like this. That other June 4th was a gorgeous, late-spring day much like today. I sat on the beach and watched the sailboats on English Bay, and felt the salty, sea breezes sweeping over me. It was delicious. And, yes, this view still takes my breath away.

Today, on the anniversary of my move to Vancouver, I have been contemplating what achievements I have made during those years. Well, not much, and quite a lot ... all at the same time. I lead what might be called a quiet life. I'm not wealthy and I have never made any great discoveries, nor solved any of the world's problems. But I have a lot of friends, and I enjoy the respect of my peers. As a single parent, I raised my daughter to be well-educated and successful in her career, and she is doing the same thing with her children. Sometimes life throws us curve balls, but it's how we move forward that determines whether or not we're made of "the right stuff". So, yes, I would consider myself successful.

Vancouver is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and moving here was the right decision for me. I have never regretted it. Today I am going to putter in my terrace garden, and then later I will take a walk on the beach, watch the sailboats on English Bay, and feel the salty, sea breezes sweeping over me. Does it get any better than that?

It's Just Good Business...

2011-06-03T17:47:00.000-07:00

Last week I bought a pair of shoes. Okay, nothing exciting about that. I tried them on and walked around the store; the shoes were comfortable. I bought them and took them home. I wore them around my house for an hour or so. So far so good. On Monday I wore them to work, and by the end of the day my feet were in such pain, I had to take a taxi home. What happened? I wish I knew. I like the shoes, but I can't wear them. On Tuesday I called the store ~~ Freedman's on Granville ~~ and explained my situation, and to my surprise they said they would be happy to exchange the shoes. My goodness, how did I get so lucky? Shoe stores never exchange shoes once they have been worn outside the store. But, it's just good business to treat a valued customer ... well ... like a valued customer, isn't it? So, I'll be trotting off to the store ~~ in my old shoes ~~ to exchange my ~~cruel~~ shoes for some new shoes. And what the heck, I might even buy that tote bag I was looking at on the weekend. You see? It's just good business to treat customers well.

"Cruel Shoes"
Steve Martin
From the Steve Martin book Cruel Shoes
1979

Anna knew she had to have some new shoes today, and Carlo had helped her try on every pair in the store. Carlo spoke wearily, "Well, that's every pair of shoes in the place."

"Oh, you must have one more pair..."

"No, not one more pair... Well, we have the cruel shoes, but no one would want..."

Anna interrupted, "Oh yes, let me see the cruel shoes!"

Carlo looked incredulous. "No, Anna, you don't understand, you see, the cruel shoes are..."

"Get them!"

Carlo disappeared into the back room for a moment, then returned with an ordinary shoe box. He opened the lid and removed a hideous pair of black and white pumps. But these were not an ordinary pair of black and white pumps; both were left feet, one had a right angled turn with separate compartments that pointed the toes in impossible directions. The other shoe was six inches long and was curved inward like a rocking chair with a vise and razor blades to hold the foot in place.

Carlo spoke hesitantly, "... Now you see why... they're not fit for humans..."

"Put them on me."

"But..."

"Put them on me!"

Carlo knew all arguments were useless. He knelt down before her and forced the feet into the shoes.

The screams were incredible.

Anna crawled over to the mirror and held her bloody feet up where she could see.

"I like them."

She paid Carlo and crawled out of the store into the street.

Later that day, Carlo was overheard saying to a new customer, "Well, that's every shoe in the place. Unless, of course, you'd like to try the cruel shoes."

Please, Mr. Postman...

2011-06-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

As of midnight tonight, the Canadian Postal workers are going on strike. Well, snail mail has almost become a thing of the past, anyway. I receive -- and pay -- all my bills on line, I don't care if I receive any flyers or junk mail, and most of my correspondence is done by e-mail or Facebook, so what does it matter? Well, my New Yorker is delivered by Canada Post, and the highlight of my week is opening my mail box and finding my crisp, clean New Yorker magazine. It makes me happy. I always read it in the same order ~~ first the cartoon caption contest on the back pages, then the art, movie and theatre critics, and so on... I have been reading the New Yorker since I was a little girl, and I borrowed my father's subscriptions. No matter what is going on in my life during the week, as long as can curl up with my New Yorker magazine, all is right with the world.

The New Yorker magazine has wonderful cartoons as well, and from the early days of James Thurber, to Roz Chast and George Booth (who was always my favourite), the cartoons are fun and topical. This one made me laugh right out loud. Of course, what else would Canada Geese be doing right now...? The same thing that everyone else in Canada is doing ~~ watching hockey.

Please, Mr. Postman, whatever you decide to do, don't go on strike. I can't be responsible for what I might do if I were to go through New Yorker magazine withdrawal. Wailing and gnashing of teeth may be involved ~~ once I catch you.

It's A Sacrilege...!

2011-06-01T08:08:00.000-07:00

At the entrance to Vancouver's famous Stanley Park is a statue of Lord Stanley after whom the park is named. Frederick Arthur Stanley, was the 16th Earl of Derby and he served as the sixth Governor General of Canada from 1888 to 1893. His visit to western Canada in 1889 gave him a lasting appreciation of the region's great natural beauty as well as permitting him to meet the people of Canada's First Nations and many western ranchers and farmers. During his visit he dedicated Stanley Park, which is named after him. He also experienced the joys of fishing and avidly pursued the sport whenever his busy schedule allowed. As Governor General, Lord Stanley was the third holder of that office to whom Queen Victoria granted the power of granting pardons to offenders or remitting sentences and fines and the power of mitigating capital or any other sentence. ~~ Lord Stanley, biography

In 1892, Lord Stanley gave Canada a treasured national icon — the Stanley Cup. He originally donated the trophy as an award for Canada's top-ranking amateur hockey club. Then in 1926, the National Hockey League adopted the Stanley Cup as the championship prize in professional hockey. That this now famous cup bears Stanley's name is a fitting tribute to his encouragement and love of outdoor life and sport in Canada.

For the past 17 years the Stanley Cup has been in *gasp* America, where it was ~~stolen from us~~ won by the New York Rangers. In recent years it has been in Tampa, Anaheim, Pittsburgh and Detroit.

As Rocket Richard would have said, "Sacré bleu...!"

I'm not a huge hockey fan, baseball is my game. But I agree with Lord Stanley; it's time to bring the cup home. Let the games begin...

Are Animals Sentient Beings?

2011-05-29T21:41:00.000-07:00

By now, probably everyone in the known universe has seen the following video. I think it has been viewed several million times, but perhaps this will make it several million and one. There has been some debate recently over whether animals are sentient beings. I have always felt they are. How often have we witnessed an animal doing something, and we have said, "That's almost human..." I remember when I was a little girl, my brother told me that humans are animals, and I didn't understand it. How could we be animals? We're human. But I realize now that humans and animals share much more than we realize. And sometimes, judging by some human behaviour, we are fortunate to share some animal characteristics. And yes, I believe animals are sentient beings ~~ very much so.

All together now, "Awwwwww...."

The Cult Of Celebrity

2011-05-29T10:53:00.000-07:00

The cult of celebrity is something that has always been a mystery to me. I don't understand it. When someone becomes famous, it's almost the same as when someone passes away; they become imbued with qualities that they perhaps really did not possess. It must be a psychological thing, a part of the human psyche, to admire people and put them onto an unrealistic pedestal. It was said that Princess Diana became so overwhelmed with her own celebrity that she developed a "God complex" and felt she had the power to heal people. She believed the touch of her hand, or her very presence, was enough to cure serious illnesses, to the annoyance of more than one doctor in the hospitals and clinics she visited.

I have never been a huge fan of Oprah Winfrey. I don't understand her cult following; it puzzles me. Oprah first began her career as a journalist and a talk show host. She interviewed people -- interesting people. But somewhere along the way the show started to be about her. Oprah almost became a religion. When she signed off the other day, folks were posting to her website:

"Your shows cleaned my soul and opened my heart every time. Thank you so much for wonderful TV-hours."

"I have seen a spot of light around you for all these years you were shining every sunset replacing sun's ray with your hopeful smile, spreading love and understanding all over the world, with your simplicity and humility."

"It is my opinion that Oprah, without children of her own, adopted the world as her children."

"I am so PROUD to be an Oprah believer. I have been watching, following, agreeing, and loving your agenda for years!"

"I remember when I was a child I would get angry with my mother because she had to watch "Oprah" and all I wanted to do was watch cartoons. Then as I got older, I realized that mother truly did know best and then "Oprah" turned into my little piece of heaven every day."

"Cleaned my soul"? ... "Ray of light"? ... "Adopted the world as her children?" ..."Little piece of heaven?" ..."Agenda?"

There are over 2,300 comments exactly like these, and they are downright frightening. She's a talk show host and a businesswoman, folks, not the Messiah.

The key to success seems to be to affect a persona and stick to it. Get that persona out there until it permeates every corner of the media. If you're famous, ~~sheeple~~ people will be devoted.

Oprah now has her own television network, and interestingly the acronym for her initials is OWN. That frightens me even more. I have watched a couple of the programs on her network, and it is more of the same "This is what Oprah believes, so you should believe it too". Unfortunately, there are too many people who can't - or chose not to - think for themselves. So, they are very easily influenced by someone who does their thinking for them.

In 1998 there was a movie called "The Truman Show" starring Jim Carrey. It was a movie about a long-running television program following a man's fictional life. The whole thing was set up in an elaborate TV studio, but Truman believed it was his real life. People all over the world had watched the show from Truman's infancy. When Truman finally learned the truth and made his escape from the studio, the final scene put everything into perspective. Two security guards were eating pizza and watching television:

First Guard: "You want another slice?"
Second Guard: "No, I'm OK."
First Guard: "What else is on?"
Second Guard: "Yeah, let's see what else is on."
First Guard: "Where's the TV guide?"

It's all up to you. Don't give these personalities more power than they deserve. To you, they are like members of your family; they are in your homes every day. But to them ~~ well, they have never even heard of you. They're business people, and the only thing they really want from you is your business.

"Let's see what else is on..."

Into The Jaws Of The Unknown...

2011-05-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

Today I'm venturing into one of those dreaded places that many of us fear to go, but which most of us have found to be a necessary evil in the 21st Century. These places are legendary, and I have heard of people -- actual real, live people -- who have disappeared into these vast abysses, never to be seen again. Those fortunate enough to escape are often found wandering vacant-eyed, uttering the phrase, "Cash or credit...? Cash or credit...?" until someone gives the victim a cup of tea -- or something stronger -- and they snap out of it.

Yes, say a little prayer for me, folks; I'm off to the shopping mall. I need stuff. I love getting new stuff, I just don't enjoy the process.

Vancouver has wonderful shopping neighbourhoods, with boutique stores, coffee shops, restaurants, book stores, fruit and produce markets, and other little specialty stores. However, most of the things I need are never sold in these little neighbourhood stores. So, I have to brace myself, gird my loins, and ~~fight the crowds~~, hop on the Skytrain to one of the larger shopping centres to find the things I want to purchase.

If you venture out today and you see a wild-eyed woman wearing steel-toed shoes, elbow pads and a helmet, just ignore her. She'll be fine, once she's back in the safety of her own home -- sipping a ~~tall, cool gin and tonic~~ cup of tea.

Lantz Hare

2011-05-26T19:25:00.000-07:00

A few days ago no one had heard of this young man, and now after the devastation in Joplin, Missouri on Sunday, most of us are familiar with his story. He is the boy who was missing for four days, after being pulled from his car by 200 mph winds during the monster tornado. In the days following, his family searched for him with no success. In the wrenching hours and days since the tornado, the boy's father, Mike Hare, said he'd searched hospitals and continually called his son's cell phone, getting no answer. "It rang for the first day and a half, and now it goes straight to voice mail. But just in case he gets it, I want him to know his dad loves him," the father said earlier this week. ~~ CNN

This is a heartbreaking story, and puts a name and a face to the devastation of the tornado. When I saw the story on CNN, I couldn't help thinking how much this 16 year-old young man resembles our Phinnaeus -- except for the Justin Bieber hair -- they are very similar. The features and the winning smile are the same, and they are just like millions of other teenage boys out there who are venturing towards their lives, trying to figure things out, being goofy one minute and serious the next, perhaps testing boundaries, while at the same time needing to feel safe.

The story doesn't have a happy ending; Lantz Hare's body was found today. His parents are beyond devastated.

We never know, do we? One minute we're hollering at them to do the dishes or mow the lawn, or for goodness sake make their bed and finish their homework. The next moment we're laughing at some completely ridiculous joke they've told, or that perfect imitation they did of their math teacher. It's all part of the day-to-day stuff we take for granted. Until it's gone.

The loss of this young man will create a huge, unfillable hole in his family member's lives. Forever. There will be a hundred small things about him that they will miss -- things they perhaps never really even noticed until he was gone. His winsome face will smile out from the Internet, and he will be the face of what can happen when things are perfectly normal one moment, and are irrevocably changed the next moment. Forever.

Now, wherever you are, get up from your computers and go and hug your kids. They'll probably wonder what the heck you're doing, but do it anyway. If they ask why, tell them, "Because Jo said so..."

The Singer Or The Song...?

2011-05-25T08:12:00.000-07:00

I always feel rather sad when I log onto my blog and see that I have lost a follower. Usually it is after I have posted a controversial post, such as the one I posted yesterday. It is my belief that folks can discuss issues -- politics, religion, current events, and more, without getting personal. It's not about the individual, it's about the issue. I sometimes read the blogs on CNN, and I am gobsmacked at the names people call each other, simply because they happen to disagree with each other regarding any particular subject.

On my boring-little-blog, I like to mix things up occasionally and discuss current issues that interest me. I do try, however, to be as courteous and inoffensive as possible, while stating my views. If folks disagree with me, I welcome it. What a boring world this would be if we all agreed with each other. I have often thought that, if I lived in another age, I would own a great salon -- no, not a hair salon, but a place where folks could attend soirées, and we would discuss all sorts of wonderful topics -- literature, art, science, religion, politics... more... These are the things that make the world go around, don't you think?

I always welcome your comments, and I often read them more than once. I try to respond, and I always visit and read your blogs, but unfortunately our computers at work are blocked from commenting on blogs, so my time is sometimes limited. But, one thing I have found is that there are some very interesting, talented, intelligent people out there. Yes, you...!

Have a wonderful Wednesday, everyone.

Mr. Camping, Get Your Priorities Straight...!

2011-05-22T20:32:00.000-07:00

Now that May 21, 2011 has come and gone, and the earth and its inhabitants have retained their status quo, I think Harold Camping should be arrested and prosecuted for the terror he unleashed on all the folks throughout the world who believed his asinine, wicked doomsday prophecy. There were hundreds of billboards, signs, newspaper ads and pamphlets warning of the end of the world on May 21st, and people were frightened -- none more so than children. What Mr. Camping did was a form of terrorism, and he profited by it. He is a multi-millionaire, and is president of Family Radio, a California-based radio station that spans more than 150 markets in the United States.

When I was a little girl, my family lived next door to members of a particular religious cult who were always telling me the world was going to come to an end next week, or next month. I spent a good deal of my time in absolute panic and dread. In fact, those folks and their doomsday predictions prompted a form of panic attack in me at the age of seven, that has never really gone away. I remember one beautiful summer afternoon hiding under my bed trembling in fear because the neighbours had told me the rapture was coming that very day and I was going to hell. I wonder how many children have spent the last few months in fear of May 21st? How many people, in fact, have been living in dread? There were reports of folks giving away their homes and all their belongings, including their stocks and investments.

There is a vast difference between religion and spirituality, and one does not necessarily relate to the other. Religion has been hijacked by lunatics like Harold Camping, and they have given religion a bad name. Fundamentalists of any kind tend to have narrow thinking, whether Muslims, Jews or Christians. Fundamentalism and the strict adherence to specific theological doctrines leaves no room for humanity. And let's face it, we are all human.

As far as I'm concerned, there is a special place reserved in the Ninth Circle of Hell for people like Harold Camping. The terror that he has wrought on people in the last few months is inexcusable. Apparently he has gone into hiding. Well, good -- I hope he stays there. Anyway, how stupid can the man be? Wouldn't he have known there was no way the rapture could possibly happen just the day before The Donald was about to pick the final Celebrity Apprentice? I mean, for goodness sake, there are priorities.

What In The Sam Peckinpah...?

2011-05-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

I have been a movie fan ever since I was a little girl and my parents gave me my weekly allowance and sent me off to the matinees on rainy Saturday afternoons. My friends and I would would load up on popcorn and Coca~Cola, sit in the back row and settle in to watch the latest Audrey Hepburn flick. I once dyed my hair black because I wanted to look like Audrey Hepburn. I looked more like Moe in The Three Stooges.

But, I digress...

In my opinion, the movies being produced lately have been particularly disappointing. Maybe I am slowly descending into that generation of folks who remembers when movies used to actually be good ~~ anything by Alfred Hitchcock, for instance -- "Psycho", "Dial M for Murder" or "Vertigo" -- or movies that relied on good acting, rather than explicit scenes, or full frontal nudity. Or actual dialogue rather than the "F" word in every sentence. Or, perhaps, an actual plot. I dunno, call me crazy... an actual story would be nice.

Recently I finally watched "The Kids Are All Right". I wanted to like it because it was highly recommended by so many of my friends, and it received a 94% good rating on Rotten Tomatoes, with the critique, "Worthwhile as both a well-acted ensemble piece and as a smart, warm statement on family values, The Kids Are All Right is remarkable." Really? The only good thing about that movie was the performance by the fabulous, anemic-looking Mia Wasikowska who also played Alice in "Alice in Wonderland" with Johnny Depp, and Jane in "Jane Eyre", which probably no one has seen, and which is a great movie. "The Kids Are All Right" was billed as a comedy, but it was bleak and gut-wrenching, one of the worst ~~pieces of cr*p~~ movies I have ever seen, along with "The Hurt Locker", Precious", "Avatar", "The Fighter", "Slumdog Millionaire", "Black Swan", "The Blind Side", "The Social Network", and any number of other movies that have been nominated for Academy Awards in the past few years. What on earth is going on? What are they putting in the popcorn?

There have been a few good movies in the past four or five years, "Doubt", "The Changeling", "Gran Torino", "The Wrestler", "Wall-E", "Up", "Revolutionary Road", "Rabbit Hole", "The Visitor" (my personal favourite), Woody Allen's "You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger", but for the most part it has been pretty slim pickings.

Movies used to be a fairly inexpensive form of entertainment, but now it costs a fortune for two people to go to a movie. And folks could enjoy a movie without squirming through scenes that left us feeling awkward. Of late there seems to be a spate of movies with scenes of explicit lesbian love-making (not that there's anything wrong with that...) and it feels artifical and exploitative. Do we really have to push the envelope to be entertained? When I watched "Black Swan", all I could think was what a wonderful movie that might have been under the direction of someone like Alfred Hitchcock or Sidney Pollock, or even the lyrical Clint Eastwood. They would have made it into a classic. It had all the raw potential, but fell far short of the mark. When a movie relies too much on shock value, that's all folks remember. The nuances of the plot and the actors' performances are forgotten.

C'mon, Hollywood, if you're going to take our money, please give us a product worth paying for.

You Live Where...?

2011-05-17T08:01:00.000-07:00

As of today, May 17, 2011, Vancouver has become the most expensive city in the world in which to own real estate, ahead of London and New York. Although I knew Vancouver was an expensive city, I had no idea it had become that expensive. Mostly the price of owning a home has been driven up by off-shore purchasers, leaving us poor Vancouverites on the outside looking in. There is one neighbourhood in particular that I love to stroll through and admire the wonderful old Edwardian homes. The neighbourhood is called Shaughnessy, and it is the center of Vancouver’s old money. The homes were built by people who made their fortune in British Columbia’s timber, sugar, mining, and other industries. A few years ago Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell lived in one of these homes while their son was playing hockey here in Vancouver. Here are some of the other gorgeous homes. *sigh*

And yes, people actually live in these homes; can you even imagine? If you’re ever in Vancouver, be sure to take a tour of this wonderful neighbourhood. And then be sure to look for me, I’m the one living in the shopping cart under the Granville Bridge.

Kidding ... kidding ...

You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet...

2011-05-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

Cruise ship season has begun here in Vancouver, and yesterday there were several cruise ships in port with 20,000 tourists disembarking to visit Vancouver. I happened to be downtown while they were here, and I overheard several folks remarking on what a gorgeous city Vancouver is. I felt like saying to them, "You ain't seen nothing' yet. Wait until you get away from the downtown area..." So, for those of you who are planning a trip to Vancouver, or just a stopover during a cruise, I thought I would show you some of the must-see places you should visit while you're here. My favourite spot in the Lower Mainland is the lighthouse at Point Atkinson, which was named by Captain Vancouver in 1792, apparently for a "particular" friend of his. I wonder who she was.

The park is exquisite but even more beautiful is the view from the lighthouse. I never get tired of it. The park surrounding the lighthouse is 185 acres of old growth rainforest with ancient trees 200 feet tall and 500 years old. In 1994 Point Atkinson Lighthouse was designated a National Historic Site. A few years later the light keepers were phased out and it is now automated. As well, Point Atkinson is part of the territory being negotiated in treaties between First Nations and local, provincial and federal governments to settle longstanding disagreements about land, resource, social, and citizenship rights. ~~ West Vancouver Museum and Archives

The drive from downtown Vancouver to Point Atkinson is about half an hour, along gorgeous Marine Drive, a winding road that has been compared to the famous drive between Monaco and Cannes. Some of the most expensive homes in Canada are along Marine Drive, selling for between $10,000,000 and $20,000,000. That's a little beyond my price range, but the view is free. However, If you don't get the opportunity to drive out to Point Atkinson during your visit here, your cruise ship goes right past it as you leave Vancouver and sail off into the sunset.

Welcome Back...!

2011-05-13T10:10:00.000-07:00

I'm more than a little peeved with Blogger. I had 18 lovely comments on my post yesterday, and when Blogger restored my blog, 16 of them had been removed before I had a chance to read them. I have been toying with the idea of moving to Wordpress, and I set up an account there -- just in case this happens again. But at least the blogs are restored, so I suppose we must look at the bright side. If by any chance you link to my blog and get re-directed to Wordpress, well, I am still here on Blogger for the foreseeable future. But ...

In the meantime, have a wonderful Friday the 13th, folks. Don't walk under any ladders.

Cheers!

Jo

Overwhelmed...

2011-05-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been feeling overwhelmed. Do you ever feel that way? It seems that all the news, both in private life and the outside world seems to be negative, it's raining all the time, and just generally one feels as if all the joy has taken a rather lengthy vacation. Well, that's how I have been feeling lately. I need some sunshine -- desperately. My friend Russell took this wonderful photo of a gorgeous little cardinal, so I have decided to do a painting of it. We don't have cardinals here in Vancouver, and it is the most gorgeous bird I have ever seen.

For me, painting is like meditation; it nourishes my soul, and that's just what I need right now. I went to De Serres Art Supplies and bought the perfect shade of red, called madder red deep -- isn't that a fabulous name for a paint colour? I can hardly wait to use it. I'll show you my painting when I'm finished. Watch this space.

Have a great day, everyone!

I Wish Them Godspeed...

2011-05-10T08:13:00.000-07:00

I was really saddened to hear about the separation of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver after 25 years of marriage. And not long ago Bruce Boxleitner and Melissa Gilbert separated at 16 years of marriage. I have never personally experienced a divorce, but I can imagine it must be just about the most painful thing anyone has to endure. A death has a certain closure to it after a period of time and a grieving process, but a divorce is a type of death too, that just never stops. It becomes prolonged and drawn out, with no closure in sight.

Someone once said that it takes a few minutes to get married, and 20 years to become divorced. There is a certain truth to that, especially where there are children involved. Most children love both their parents equally. They don't see their parents through the eyes of the marriage, but through the eyes of a child. So it upsets me when I see children being torn apart by the fracture of their parents' relationship. However, I think it is inevitable in almost every divorce; the children are the ones who lose the most, in ways the parents cannot even imagine.

There rarely is any such thing as an amicable divorce. That's the true definition of an oxymoron -- amicable divorce. People like the Schwarzeneggers and the Boxleitners put on a brave face for the public, but we are all aware of what is really going on behind the scenes. It's heartbreaking, to say the least. The pain must be unimaginable. I feel really sad for anyone who is going through that awful process, and I wish them Godspeed.