Just How Much

 

I have mentioned before that I’m surprised that I have lived this long. Considering what I have subjected myself to over the years in the name of adventure, or just because I thought it would be fun. I never worried about the cool part because I never expected to stick around in one particular place long enough for it to matter. Because it didn’t matter, it was just fun. I was just trying stuff and having the best time I could have doing it. No matter what that was. It took me to a ton of places that I never would have been to otherwise and created way too many memories and friendships for me to include in just one small blog post.

So, with that being said, just what does the universe have in store for me or us? This is how it works right? The universe has some sort of cosmic control over our destiny? As if we have no say in the matter? Then there should be some show of direction at least, don’t you think? How about a hint? I call bullshit on this one. I get the fact that I’m on my own, and have been aware of this for a very long time. Pretty much all of my life actually. My decisions are my own and always have/will be. For better or worse, I am resigned to the fact that I am the product of my decisions. Society is never to be blamed, regardless of how I may feel about it.

With all of that being said, I really don’t want to do this anymore.

So just how much shit can the universe drop onto one person as if it were some continuous and sadistic prank? I get the fact that I brought some of this on myself and take ownership of all of that. I’m an asshole, not an oblivious asshole. I get it. I really do.

Working hard in an effort to get ahead of the never ending depletion of my bank account just doesn’t seem to be working anymore, like a lot of people these days. Just as things begin to lean towards a little progress “BAM” the car breaks down and needs repair. Or you get laid off due to a work shortage, and so on. I’ve been told that it all happens in sets of three. I also call bullshit on this because I’m going on about number eleven.

It gets a little overwhelming at times and it’s a wonder why I’m not a raging alcoholic by now.

Yet I endeavor. I am in no way giving up. How can I after what I’ve survived so far for quite some time now. I’ve thought a little bit about trying to view it as a game. Can I win this time? Of course I can, look at my track record, it’s pretty impressive. But in the back of my mind a little voice is telling me that it could be inviting more shit to come down the pipe and pile on. The universe would think I’m having some sort of fun with it and decide that it was easy on me somehow then up the ante. Nobody needs that.

So I continue to tread these waters, keeping my head up, and moving forward albeit slowly. I still tell my inner voice, rather quietly, to bring it on. I’ve so got this, fucker. It’s not my time yet.

But feel free to knock it off any time now.

Thanks for letting me have a little rant. It feels good to let it out sometimes.

My Year In Review

 

My Year In Review

Once again it’s that time of year where most of us reflect on what we did not accomplish over the past year and wonder why. It’s that week between Christmas and New Year (no “s” because there is only one) where we lose track of what day it is, forget to eat healthy, neglect personal hygiene a little, fail to change out of our track pants, and attempt to pry your butt off of the couch where we have been binge watching anything that looks good at that time.

Admit it. We all do it. You do so. I’m guilty as well. I binge watched couple of TV series in track pants.

In my own reflection, I look back on a challenging year. Since undergoing a major brain surgery in late September 2022, I have had many hurdles to overcome, and I am still not back to where I was prior to that. You could actually say that I’m not right in the head, and you wouldn’t be too far off.

I really do understand that there a lot of people in this world that endure hardships much worse and more often than mine. I truly feel for them and hope that they have the strength to endure. I do not wish to seem unsympathetic, but I can only speak for my own situation.

As I sit here writing this and looking back, I can honestly say that I have done what I can to remove myself from most of the negative people and relationships in my life. And I am the better for it. There is still a ton more work to do.

I have been pushing myself through my recovery because I’m a stubborn prick and cannot endure the feeling of being feeble. I need to do what I can to try to get back to normal.

The way that I explain it to people is that it’s like being a toddler. And a child takes quite some time to learn basic motor skills we all take for granted. Yes a toddler. Immediately after my surgery, I could not walk, could barely talk, could only see very blurred vision, and my dexterity was almost non-existent. So I have equated it to this. Much like a small child learning all of these things for the first time, I am doing pretty much the same thing. The only difference being is that I’ve done all of these things before, I know how they’re supposed to work, but am unable to function as I should. So my frustration gets in the way quite a bit.

All of this aside, I feel rather fortunate to be where I am today and am looking forward to where my snail pace recovery will take me.

I’m alive. From the life I’ve led and the things I have put myself through, I shouldn’t be alive, and consider myself fortunate. I guess me writing this was the much needed reminder of that very fact that I needed. I hope that you find yours.

I have a feeling that I’m going to make 2024 a much improve year for myself.

My apologies for taking so long to get back to this.

Bugged

          It would seem that the weather can’t figure out what it wants to do on a daily basis with the Autumn like temperatures in Spring. Apparently we have already had our summer. In case you missed it, it was this past Monday afternoon between the hours of 1 and 6 pm, then it became Fall again. Tons of rain, wind, and cool temperatures are ever abundant. If this isn’t the Russians screwing with their weather control satellites then the new Carbon Tax for us Canadians should solve everything right? Because paying an extra tax to aid global warming in only one country on the entire Globe will certainly change the climate and temperature of the whole planet to the benefit of all that occupy her. Way to spearhead that initiative Canada. Too bad I can’t properly portray sarcasm in my writing.

          It would seem that these unseasonably cooler temperatures have not disrupted the bug population as you or I would expect. I was one of those who believed wholeheartedly that most bugs, flying or not, could not exist very long in the colder temperatures until lately. It would seem that I have been mistaken all of these years regardless of my personal experience or being witness to decades of these so called cold weather mass killings.

          Yet with all of the recent temperature fluctuations, the growing bug population seems to be evolving and becoming stronger. Adapting and overcoming as if they all joined the Marines or something. Oorah!

Still not ruling out the Russians for this one either.

I have still, over the past month at least, unwillingly swallowed more than my fair share of Midges and May Fly protein to last me through until next spring at least. I’m good. And yet feel no more energized that normal. Funny.

All of this build up only to tell you this story about the battle that I saw at a stop light, happening on the ground right beside my truck. Oh, it was epic. Proportionately small scale, but epic all the same. I was so intrigued that I realized afterword that I should have grabbed my phone and videoed the entire thing. Maybe Animal Planet would have been interested. Miniscule on the grandest of scales.

I was privileged enough to bear witness to a Battle Royale between a small bird and a rather large bug. I’m no Ornithologist nor Entomologist so don’t bother asking what kind of bird or bug they were. It was a smaller sized bird vs a larger sized bug. K?

I seem to have arrived with our episode already in progress. At first the bird had the bug pinned in a submission hold. The bug spun quickly and unexpectedly, got loose, and began to run. The bird countered with a beak grab with an attempted claw hold. The bug then latched on to the bird’s wing, appeared to apply enough pressure to cause the grip to release. The bug lunged forward at the bird. The bird recoiled at this unexpected action but regained its composure quickly then hopped in a semi-circle to reassess the attack. The bug backed off an equal distance, countered with a mirrored semi-circle, and regained its stance as well.

They glared at each other for what seemed much longer than it actually was, in an almost posturing gesture with each one egging the other on. All of a sudden they darted towards one another with a determined unwillingness to submit. This was, after all, a ballet to the death. Live, right here on the streets.

The bug then spun and lunged as the bird countered with jumps and flaps as they continued this dance with all that they could muster. I can say with all honesty that I was unsure of who I wanted to cheer for at this point. I think I was leaning more towards the bug, go underdog, but did sway back and forth a bit to be honest. I was witnessing a vigorous and fascinating display that was more captivating than anything I had seen in a while. Yes, I’m easily amused. Sue me.

As they continued to grapple back and forth, the most unexpected thing happened. The bug, with what can only be described as his “finishing move”, revealed a pincer type of micro claw from its front appendage area and “bit” the bird on the leg hard enough to elicit a rather loud and high pitched squeal that caused the bird and I to both recoiled simultaneously with surprise. The bird swiftly released its grip.

The bug quickly and insightfully took this opportunity to retreat under my truck as fast as its little bug legs could propel it. The bird seemed to stand there dumbfounded for a brief second then flew off in the opposite direction clearly robbed of a lunchtime snack. “Yes”, I apparently exclaimed loud enough for others to hear because the person to my left, also waiting for the red light to turn green, gave me a peculiar look that was clearly interpreted as a “what the fuck is wrong with you” type of look.

Just then the light turned green and it was time to maintain my position within traffic flow. As I attempted to accelerate, I remembered the bug that had just repelled a vicious attack that would have rendered him sustenance for a small bird or its offspring. I slowed my advance as to not unwittingly and unfairly squish it from existence carelessly with my tire.

I pulled away slow whilst keeping an eye out of my passenger side mirror with hope to see him emerge. Low and behold, didn’t I see little warrior crawling up the curb into the tall grass.

“Yes” I said aloud again, accompanied by the appropriate “fist pump” this time. My day was clearly made.

It really is all about the little things.

Musical Procreation

          Having multiple conversations with numerous musicians within the past year and a half, I’ve been told, by more than just a few, of a rather interesting, and pleasantly eye opening explanation of how their song writing process affects them emotionally. Also, how it comes to becomes a product to be unleashed on the public. After having many of these fascinating discussions, I feel, maybe somewhat, semi-informed enough to create an amalgam of these aforementioned emotional experiences in an attempt to portray this in a fashion that not only does them justice, but, leaves you with an indication or understanding of the level of passion and energy that a dedicated musician feels about their work. Fingers crossed. Read on.

          The song writing process has been interpreted repeatedly as euphoric, sensual, and almost to the point of orgasmic. Let’s expand on my findings shall we? Grab some snacks and a beverage, because this is going to be good. Trust me.

          Not being a song writer myself, nor musician for that matter, please remember that this is my combined interpretation of the multiple sources and conversations that I have attempted to put into a respectful perspective of my own making. An homage if you will. I only hope that I am doing it all justice here. Feel free to let me know. My shoulders are pretty broad

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          It all begins with an itch, an urge, a feeling, an idea, or an inner desire that has been built up, mulled over and yet withheld to oneself. Self-expression has most definitely happened on multiple occasions with regard to this issue, but not to the fulfilling outcome that was expected or anticipated. This action is repeated, in vain, until there is an almost uncontrollable lust to release it with the aid of another human being. So then someone familiar and reliable is contacted. The closest talented, willing, creative conspirator is contacted in an effort to relieve this pent up situation and spread it openly. The parties agree that this collaboration is a moral imperative, and willingly expose themselves wholeheartedly to the endeavor without hesitation.

          The tension and frustration escalate to the point where this not so clandestine meeting of artistic collaboration ends up happening at a pre-determined location and time, complete with reckless abandon towards all other commitments, responsibilities, or regard for public opinion, and influence. After all, the offer of this type of joint effort is difficult to pass up. I don’t care who you are.

          At most times, it happens with an initial description, explanation, enticement, and, if needed, demonstration, of the overall intention of the project. Hopefully the expected, and anticipated effort by the invited party to keep the ball rolling, so to speak, will come to fruition. This is normally reciprocated by the co-conspirator having an understanding of which direction this project is going by diving in head first and offering input.

          There tends to be a lot of back and forth with multiple ideas being attempted, retried, accepted, rejected, combined, altered, adjusted, and repeated to almost the point of exhaustion. Or at least until all parties are satisfied with the outcome. Sometimes this development is duplicated in an effort to ensure that all other options have been covered. Just to be sure. Recording and re-recording are essential aspects of this process. Just saying.

          This would imply the time of conception of a song, for lack of a better term. Let’s move along shall we?

          Over the course of the next number of months, the development, definition,    growth, and final touches are gestated to allow it to become the incredible creation that it was intended to be. This would also include releasing limited information from time to time to the general public, with regard to the impending release date, all the while monitoring public opinion and reaction with regard to said release date. Still with me?

          The enduring patience needed to weather the expanse of time leading up to the impending yet ominous release date can be excruciating to say the least. This is felt by all parties involved and not just by the accredited songwriter(s) specifically, regardless of what they tell you. And they will tell you plenty.

After all of that effort, the envisioned release date is finally here. All of the hype, preparedness, effort, endurance, promotion, and expense have all boiled down to this very moment in time. With all of the family members, friends, acquaintances, social media contacts, and creepers in the loop, the completed product is unleashed into the world as the latest news to a remarkable fanfare. And why not?

All contributing partners are glowingly proud and overjoyed of the natural reaction of such an overwhelming response with this unique specimen. The likes of which are described as being unlike anything that has come before. Smiles all around. This is a very proud moment for all involved.

As time goes on, the song experiences life, excitement, growing pains, changes in venues, acoustics, mood, friends, collaborators, conspirators, fans, cover bands, and yet it adapts and overcomes. Eventually becoming a better version of what it once was, or what it set out to be, it pleases the masses in an all new way repeatedly.

To all who create to these miracles, my music is my sanctuary. Please keep contributing to that, and thank you.

Can’t Sleep

          I am currently having one of those nights where, no matter what I seem to do, no matter what position that I’m in, no matter how many blankets I have, if any at all, I cannot get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I have been flopping about in bed like a fish out of water for over three hours now. It has gotten to the point where it’s become so annoying that I have quite literally frustrated myself awake. The bigger irritation is the fact that, prior to going to bed, I was practically falling asleep sitting up watching television. And not even to a boring show. This is not the first time this has happened recently, nor will it be the last.

          The best way to describe things lately is to say that my brain has been occupied elsewhere quite regularly. Back to the old hamster wheel it seems. A whole bunch of effort and energy spent on getting nowhere fast.

          I have plenty that I can and should be doing and am fully aware of this. Yet I’m scattered. My days are fully occupied, or so it seems, but not to a productive result. I sat back today and looked around at things and realized that this place has the makings of a perfect disaster area. There are multiple projects in the making that are in such assorted states of incompletion that it has me scratching my head and wondering where do I start in order to finish all of this.

          Starting to finish is the key here. I’ve been so disseminated that I have entirely forgotten about a couple of things, only to realize that I completely missed a submission deadline for one of them. Such a dumbass move on my part.

          I do feel better about a lot of other things though. For one, I’m no longer working for the idiot that was the cause of my day to day stress level being off the chart. This is one of the major things within my power to change. It boils down to what I am willing to put up with and it seems that my tolerance for idiots is becoming less and less with age. Maybe it’s because there are more and more idiots crawling out from under rocks these days. Maybe it’s just me, and I can live with that.

One of my favorite sayings for things like this, and I have told it to a few of my superiors over the years, is that, I need A job. I don’t need THIS job. It has been met with an assortment of reactions. All of which I find comical regardless of their response. Feel free to use it. It will indeed provoke a response.

          Having the time to do some of the things that I want to accomplish is a refreshing change for sure. I just have to stop being an idiot about it and focus my efforts productively.

Stay tuned

Five Years

          Today was a momentous occasion in the calendar of events that record the contraventions and decisive moments of my so called life. Today was just a tad more special than the rest. And believe me, I’ve had my fair share of exceptional events. Just wait until I finish writing my book. You’ll need a helmet and a neck brace just to read it. What a great idea! Alert the marketing department.

          I had one of my update appointments at the Cancer center here today. A most important update appointment at that. This was my fifth year post treatment appointment. My “Five Year All Clear” appointment, if you will. And yes, it certainly does not feel as if it has been that long. Holy crap, where has the time gone. It goes by so fast.

          I went through the regular drill of being poked and prodded as well as the good old video scope being inserted slowly into one nostril ( I always get asked if I prefer left or right, a nice courtesy) and endure the slow decent of the camera. After so many times of having a tube stuffed down your nose that is a camera, one learns, and is constantly told, how to breathe correctly to help avoid the gag reflex that occurs the entire time. Breathe heavily through your mouth. The speed of decent most definitely impacts the gag reflex as well. You repeatedly attempt to ask the inserter to speed up the process. Slow is not a pleasant experience. I know this first hand. It involves gagging, coughing, grabbing the scope, ripping it from your nose, tears, and reaching for Kleenex. And yes, that is experience talking. Certainly not an Instagram moment for me.

          Unless you are a queasy person in any capacity whatsoever, you can request to have the doctor rotate the video screen towards you so you can witness the intrusion of your nasal cavity first hand. I must say that this is an interesting view for sure. If you have the unfortunate medical advantage to view anything via medical camera that has been inserted into you, anywhere, through any body cavity, or incision, do it. For no other reason than to see what they see. Never be afraid to ask questions either. I like looking because it’s cool as shit. This is video of what is inside of you. But I digress.

          My appointment was all about kicking me out. And I have never looked forward to being kicked out of anything. But this was the best reason ever, because if I passed, that means I need never come back. A club expulsion I welcome.

          I met with my Radiation Doctor and Head and Neck Surgeon with a tremendously positive result. The best anyone could have possibly hoped for. I was elated to say the least. I am now looking as to when I will open the 25 year old bottle of single malt scotch that I have been saving for the last 4 and a half years. I have a couple of people that need to be involved in this opening. They went thorough as much if not more than I did. There will be photos.

My deepest thanks to the doctors and staff of the Chemo and Radiation departments at the Kingston General Hospital Cancer Center, who I have thanked personally, and hugged each of them. I will be forever in your debt, for the rest of my life, literally.

I AM BECAUSE OF YOU. THANK YOU

Beans And Cat Shit

          Like most people, I too, enjoy a good cup of coffee from time to time. I mean a good quality cup of coffee that you can take your time and savour. The truly satisfying taste that you just don’t get from that mass produced mud powder that they force feed us, and usually comes in a big can. Oh my god this sounds like a television commercial.

          Also like most people I have been in the habit of making a pot of mud in the mornings before I go to work. I don’t always get to sit and enjoy a complete mug of the stuff, but I do slurp back the majority of a serving whilst going through my morning routine. The number one item, if I feel like it, happens the night before. Without this seemingly insignificant chore, my entire morning can be thrown completely off kilter. This would be the setting up of said coffee machine itself. You know the drill, right? Add the water, new filter, and coffee, in the correct proportions to the machine so it will be ready to go first thing. All I need to do is hit the switch, push the button, or however you say it, and we’re good to go. No I’m a cheap ass. I do not have one with a timer, or alarm, or auto shut off, or a clock, or circus cannon, or safety net. Two settings. “On” and “Off”. Old school baby.

          I don’t need a timer on my coffee machine. It’s a coffee machine dammit. I think I can reach over and turn it on in less than a half second without causing a major inconvenience to myself while exiting my abode to take The Wonderdog out for his first morning run for about a half an hour. He gets two outings before I leave for work. Besides, all of the varieties of machines end up with the same result. They dump boiling hot water over ground up bean powder to create flavoured dark brown water. Yes I know, yours is different right? I have had a number of different styles, shapes, colours, functions, settings, automations, pods, timers, and pot size to come to this conclusion. It’s a fricken coffee machine. Mine was $20 and works fine. I don’t need to spend around $100 for one just because it has lights and a siren. I could buy five like mine for that price.

          From time to time I do get a hankering for an enjoyable cup of Joe. The quality stuff you can’t find in the grocery isle, no sir. I like to go to one of those specialty shops in town that roast their own beans and create some utterly magnificent aromatic sensation of medium to dark roasts with a wondrous variety of flavours and blends. The kind of place that can commandeer your entire aroma detector with the generous redolence of ground coffee and fresh baked goods, so substantial that you may even salivate just a little. You may even be doing it right now.

I am fortunate to have a few of them not far away, and within a reasonable proximity of walking distance to each other. You usually pay a premium price for the good stuff but, most of the time it’s worth it. The fun part is trying the things you have never had before. Most of these places have some select flavours for you to sample. They’re usually different flavours from day to day.

          I am, by no means, a coffee expert or connoisseur. Not even close. I’ve never researched regions, or climates, atmospheric pressures, soil densities, or the type of cat that shit out the beans. I know what tastes good to me and that’s all I’m concerned with. Except for the cat. I’m still on the fence on whether I’d drink cat shit coffee or not. I do know that I will never pay the astronomical price that they’re asking. Last I checked it was over $400 a pound. Now if someone were to outright offer me a cup of Kopi Luwak to try, I would probably oblige just to see what all of the fuss was about. Who wouldn’t?

          Getting back to it here, I always try to use a coffee press when making the quality grinds at home. These are often mistakenly called a Bodem. However Bodem is a brand or company name that has become the defining word to describe a French coffee press. Much like Crock-Pot, Jacuzzi, Chap Stick, Zamboni, Kleenex, Band Aid, and the like. You get the idea. The point is that you don’t want to just run water through a mud machine for the good stuff. And believe me, it truly is worth it. Read the instructions for the type of coffee press you will purchase. They do vary slightly and it’s important to make sure you’re doing it right for obvious reasons.

Sometimes the trick is to have your own coffee grinder so you can experiment with making your own blends. You just need a few different flavour roasts kicking around. Find that unique flavour that is all your own. You’ll be happy you did.