... than reclining on a deck chair under the sun in the broad, open Western sky? Not much, I think.

 

Even better when my host has excused me from gardening chores. He says my company is enough, and my djing expertise controlling the musical flow is good too.

 

Enough of this typing, back to the carefree lounging.

I'm now firmly ensconsed in the central interior of British Columbia. I've traversed the mountain highway between Kelowna and Kamloops, taking in all the wonderful scenery of hills, valleys, rivers and lakes. 

 

My wonderful, brilliant hosts Trevor and Julie wondered why I was so quiet on the trip. Apart from the jet lag, I just sat entranced with the scenery. Such a switch from the flat farmland and urban blights of southern Ontario.

 

Now the wonderful hosts are whipping a sumptious Indian meal, which I'm sure I will love. Tonight is a night in, featuring a film picked by committee. Unfortunately, I was voted down from my choices, but I'm sure "Savages" will be okay too. Never heard of it, but I'm sure I'll be asleep before the end anyway. Still operating on Eastern time after all.

 

Wish me well on my journey. I really needed to get away, and these surroundings will be just perfect.

 

 

This weekend finds us hale and hearty Canadians with our first long weekend of the relatively good weather season we call late Spring and Summer. It's the unofficial beginning of all things we find dear: camping, gardening, cutting the lawn, sitting around campfires, imbibing our yellow libations and on and on.

 

We are nominally celebrating Queen Victoria, the british monarch who happened to be our monarch in Canada's confederation year, 1867. You see Canadians happened to be British subjects most of the last century and a half, and continue to be loosely affiliated as members of the Commonwealth.

 

Now I'm not much of a royalist, but any celebration that allows me a three-day weekend is alright by me.

 

Bring on the heat and humidity I say. Open up those patios, you taverns and pubs of the land. People of Canada, fish out your sandals, shorts, t-shirts, funny hats, beach towels, balls and frisbees.

 

This fine weather is oh so fleeting up here. Enjoy it, and pour out a drop for our old Queen. The Queen is dead, but so is winter, and that's a beautiful thing.

 

 

 

It's the first Friday in May, so what can I say,

What to hope for, perhaps a sun ray,

Maybe more free time, to run and play,

Wishing faraway friends were here to stay,

My special ones' fears to neatly allay,

Somewhere fun and exciting whither to stray,

The blooming of tulips, roses, Spring hay,

And a hope for my dear ones to all be okay.

 

Yesterday was Earth Day, an annual day set aside to focus on how we can improve this planet. I think such a gesture is certainly worthwhile, but I think any change has to start with each person doing their part, so here's I celebrated:

 

At 7 a.m. I took out my recycling, with its paper, cardboard, cans and a piece of plastic or two.

 

At 8 I took a quick shower. Then I shaved and brushed my teeth, doing neither with the water running. Later, I washed a few dishes by hand, using as little water as possible.

 

By 9:10, I rode my bike 5 minutes to work.

 

At work, I poured a few coffees into my favorite mug. No throwaway cups for me.

 

At 6 p.m. I rode home again.

 

Quick simple dinner. Minimal time with the television and the computer. One table lamp (compact flourescent bulb naturally) and a couple of candles for power.

 

Bed by 10:30.

 

Happy Earth Day everyone. I hope you enjoyed my sanctimony.

What makes life worth living, one may ask. This beautiful spring afternoon makes a man reflective.

 

Love of course. Love for doing one's best in all his endeavors. Love for the beautiful friends and family that are the bedrock of a man's happiness. Love for cool breezes, budding rose bushes, walks around the neighborhood, creating and appreciating art.

 

Love also comes from the anticipation of brighter things in the future. Hope is such an important emotion. Looking forward is so much more positive than being ensnared by past missteps.

 

Now what of romance. Is there anything greater than finding the "one." Many have tried, many have failed. Too often lusts overwhelm us into going down inappropriate avenues, often leading to eventual emptiness. I remain circumspect but open, but assure my next true love will receive all I can offer.

 

They say love is a many splendored thing. Indeed.

 

 

"Lesbia, let's live and love

without one thought for gossip of

the boys grown old and stern.

Suns go down and can return,

but, once put out our own brief light,

we sleep through one eternal night.

Give me a thousand, a hundred kisses,

another thousand, a second hundred,

a thousand complete, a hundred repeat;

and when we've many thousand more,

we'll scramble them, forget the score

so Malice cannot know how high

the count, and cast its evil eye."

 

Caius Valerius Catullus

c. 84-54 B.C.

This is the morning of my fourth day in my new apartment, and I am happy to report that all is well.

 

The serenity and solitude is a welcome change. All messes are mine, all decisions are mine, all entertainment choices are mine. There is a joy in freedom that can't be overstated.

 

Loneliness is not an issue. Friends and family abound in this quaint little town. A smiling face is around every corner. And all well-wishers are always welcome to darken my door.

 

I think things will be okay.

This blog of mine has been a going concern for almost two and a half years. During that time I've done my best to be forthright and honest with those who read it.

 

Sometimes I think I'm a dying online breed, for out there lurks thousands of predators, delinquents and ne'er-do-wells who troll upon innocent others. Hiding behind anonymity, they serve up threats and creepiness, making good people wary of this online world.

 

These malicious mouth-breathing malcontents are social zeros in the real world, and thus bring their ineptitudes to their computer lives.

 

Why this rant? A good friend, who was admittedly made online, has now sworn off a popular social networking site because of this maliciousness. I, as an upstanding online citizen, want to apologize for the jerks out there.

 

A simple online rule would be: be nice and don't freak anyone out. Don't type things you wouldn't want said to you.

 

 

It certainly is!! Not only for the Christian holiday commemorating the crucifixion and rising soon of Jesus Christ. But that is a total crib from Egyptian, Greek and Roman mythology, so no more on that.

 

It's also good because the day is almost coinciding with the first day of Spring. A needed reprieve from the brutality of this winter. The snow is melting slowly, the air is crisp, the sky is blue. What more can we ask for. Well another 10 degrees would be nice, but why quibble.

 

Spring is also well known for blooming, both physically and emotionally. Flowers are wonderful to see emerge, as is budding passions for love, reacquaintance and maintaining old friendships.

 

So let's all wear our broadest smiles for the beautiful season ahead. To sunshine, daffodils, tulips, new love, rushing rivers, patio weather and on and on.

Horoscope for March 5, 2008
Yesterday | Today | Tomorrow
Today's Pisces Horoscope
(February 19 - March 20)

You may be able to see what you want, but it's like you're outside a closed store, looking through the window. There are so many goodies and it's frustrating when you cannot put your hands on them immediately. Instead of getting hooked by the impossibility of the situation, collect the images for future reference. You are planting seeds that will grow when you water them with action later on.

 

 

Yes, planting seeds. Very exciting times. The future is boundless as the seeds grow. Let me hope for a bountiful harvest.

Hello friends, how are you doing on this extra day of the year?

 

An extra day to be productive or tell someone you love them. Perhaps finish a project you've always been meaning to get to. Perhaps take a trip somewhere to see something new.

 

A day full of excitement and opportunities. Take a chance and leap in.

So famed and prolific consumer advocate Ralph Nader has declared his candidacy for U.S. president as an independent. Great, visions of 2000 dance in my head. You know the one: where Bush stole the White House by a razor-thin margin. We all know how great the world has been with Bush and his cronies running things.

 

Ralph, I appreciate all your work for the last four or five decades, but this political agitation thing is not productive. You may garner 2 to 5% of the vote, pretty much the margin for victory in many U.S. elections recently.

 

The world can't afford Nader's outsider act. Too much at stake.

 

Ralph, you're well into your 70s, wouldn't it be best to quietly retire and perhaps return to your important advocacy work. The problem is that you are respected. If you were a dithering idiot like Ross Perot I wouldn't be too worried.

 

Give the world a break.

Last night I was in a celebratory mood: after having looked at a wonderful apartment, which I dearly hope will be mine after the formality of a rental application, I met up with a friend and headed to our favorite pub to partake of premium lagers and a bit of cognac.

 

Once there, I was happy to see Peter Svensson, one of this town's most interesting characters. Bon vivant comes to mind. Pete is a seventy-something great-grandfather, with an athletic build topped with shocks of long blond hair. Picture an older Rod Stewart.

 

Pete and I bonded many years ago mainly based on our appetite for music. While my collection is approaching one thousand pieces, Pete figures he owns over 10,000 78's, LPs, 45s, cassettes and the odd CD, which he thinks is a terrible format.

 

Pete and I can talk jazz for hours. I must be an old soul, because he seems to enjoy my knowledge. Yes, I'm a 30-something anachronism.

 

Anyway, as always Pete and I did predictably talk music for a while, but more interestingly talk turned to the topics of love and regret.

 

Pete has a huge, loving family. Even his ex-wife continues to be a close friend. He just attracts admiration. He has many suitors, when he goes dancing on weekends in London.

 

However, Pete really struck me when he told the story of how as a young soldier, stationed in a small town in Denmark, he met his future wife on a Saturday, and another young woman the following Monday. This second woman really struck Pete. However, he ruined things with her by running down her reputation to a soldier friend of his.

 

Soon, in this small Danish town, this poor teen had become an object of Derision. "I can never forget how unkind I was to this beautiful, sweet girl," Pete remembered.

His philosophy: if someone is kind to you, return it in kind. Don't peddle in negativity and hatred. Love the lovable.

 

Pete also, long before the Internet age, was a great collector of penpals, with friends in Japan, Germany, Georgia, etc. He was really intrigued by his Japanese friend, and wish he had taken the opportunity to meet her.

 

Pete has had a great life, well-travelled, successful, urbane, but even those things don't erase regrets.

 

Opportunities and decisions abound in every life. Make the most of them, if Pete can be believed.

 

I don't know about you all, but my family are immigrants, from a land with few opportunities thirty years ago. This land is a small island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, called St. Michael, Azores, a protectorate of Portugal.

 

I'm writing this to cheer myself up. After we emigrated, in 1971, I did not have an opportunity to finally see this land until a few scant years ago. It was a magical place, all lush vegetation, and an incredibly predictable temperate climate.

 

Why did we come to this Canadian land, I'll never know. This land features the opposite, harsh climactic extremes.

 

What I'm saying is: who wants to split on an Azorean villa for the winter for the foreseeable years ahead. I am sick of snow, wind, toques, gloves, heavy coats and sweaters, god dammit.

 

Right now here, -15C; there, 17C. I'm sure it'll range from 15 to 22C all year. That's my kind of place.

 

I have 30 odd years to save for retirement. Perhaps I'll end up where I started. One can dream.

A Polish immigrant, Robert Dziekanski, arrived in our fair land in mid-October looking for a better life here. He left his land behind, no doubt to take advantage of Canada's many charms. His mother was already here, and no doubt told him of our many splendors. However, Robert was probably not expecting iron-fisted police more reminiscent of Poland before the iron curtain fell.

 

Poor Robert, a 40-year-old construction worker who had never left Poland, let alone taken a flight, flew a full 15 hours to Vancouver, then spent a further 10 hours agitated and frustrated in the airport waiting area, waiting for his mother. His agitation was spurned on by knowing no English and getting little help from airport officials. He finally expressed his exasperation by throwing a few items around. He finally received some attention, with the appearance of four RCMP officers, who within seconds stunned him with a Taser twice. Shortly afterward, Robert collapsed and was dead. The incident was caught on video by a bystander, so feel free to avail yourself of Youtube.

 

Official inquiries have begun, B.C. politicians are seeking a moratorium on Tasers (though the Vancouver police themselves have just ordered 70 more of the devices for their own force) and newpapers and radio call-in programs are rife with indignation. Personally, I am heartsick about the whole thing.

 

Robert's mother, Zofia Cisowski, was later reported to have been only a few hundred feet from Robert, but unfortunately they could never connect. Zofia had hoped that she and Robert would eventually open a business together in their new adopted land. Robert had packed lightly, with most of his luggage comprising geography books, no doubt of places here he was hoping to see.

 

A retired RCMP officer made a good point: why couldn't four young officers use physical restraint on this unarmed man? He was not out of his mind on drugs, as the preliminary autopsy showed nothing in his system and no pre-existing medical condition.

 

The American company who produces and markets the Taser expectedly trumpeted that Tasers do not kill, but come on, 50,000 volts of electricity is definitely a catalyst if not cause. CBS news has reported that 70 deaths have resulted in the U.S. in relation with Taser use.

 

I think a moratorium is imperative. What ever happened to the Billy club, pepper spray or the power of persuasion? I understand the attraction of the Taser for police, as it reduces the times a gun might be used. But in this case, Robert's only weapon was assorted office items in the sterile waiting room. Did the Taser have to be the first resort for these cowardly officers?

 

Let's hope that Robert's death is not in vain. Rest in peace, sir. May your mother find some comfort. Let's hope some lessons can be learned so this shame does not befall us again.

 

 

 

Earlier this week, I was compelled by the Ministry of the Attorney General to do my civic duty and show up at the London courthouse and make myself available as part of a jury panel.

 

Ever since I got my letter in October, I was dreading this appointment. I didn't relish the possibility of being mired in a criminal proceeding, especially as one who had decision-making power. Nevermind the dread attached to having to hear the grisly details of a serious crime.

 

Anyway, after being sandwiched in with about 200 other unfortunate random citizens in a swelteringly dreary courtroom, attendance was painstakingly taken for each of the 200. The registrar dragged out the attendance by trying to be droll with some people's information. Stick to courtroom maintenance, and leave the humor to pros.

 

After an interminable wait, the principals came into the room. Twenty names were selected, of which about half gave the judge excuses why they wouldn't be able to serve. So other names were selected, until both crown and defence agreed on twelve jurors, based on nothing more than a quick visual sizing up.

 

I was not one of the selected, thankfully. However, today I read that the jury was just dismissed yesterday, so a new jury must be selected. And because they told us that we're supposed to be available for the next three weeks, if necessary, I am not yet clear.

 

I really don't have the stomach for meting out justice. I'm just a schlub who tries to keep his nose clean. Courtrooms are best seen in television and film dramas.

I've been on vacation since this past Thursday, and I've decided to use this time to get reacquainted and acquainted with as many friends as possible.

 

Thursday began with accompanying my most stalwart friend, Mark, to pay a surprise visit to Karina, who though living in our very town, is too often left out of our carousing. We showed up at her place at 10 p.m. and I did not make it home til 10 a.m. Friday. Needless to say we made up for lost time, perhaps overstayed our welcome, but had a good time nevertheless.

 

Friday afternoon I accompanied my sis Sue and her boyfriend Bruce to Hamilton, where we met up with some of Bruce's friends for a pre-Beastie Boys concert barbecue and beer bash. There, I met Joey, Matt, Trevor and Erin. All fine, upstanding folks, though we all got less upstanding as the beer continued to flow. We eventually took the GO train to Toronto, where we took in a most exhilarating concert by the Beastie Boys, whom I've liked for half my life.

 

The post party began at the Jack Astor's on Front Street, where further drinks were quaffed. Joey and Matt were probably the worse for wear, culminating in an escort off the GO bus back to Hamilton by Mississauga's finest. However, after an expensive cab to Hamilton, all were accounted for. After another late night, with a second night's fitful sleep on a couch, Sue, Bruce and I were up Saturday morning, and headed to Toronto to see Nelson, Charlotte and their new baby.

 

The baby was adorable and it was great to see Nelson and family. We all shared coffee and a little nosh, and then headed home. Once home, I was pleasantly surprised to share the carousing last night with my old friend Lath, who made a surprise visit. We showed him the two extremes of Strathroy night spots, Copperfields and The Derby, both with their own particular charms.

 

Today, Sunday, is a day to recuperate, as early tomorrow I jet off to British Columbia, where I get to meet up with three more dear friends, who have been neglected for far too long. Can't wait, guys!

 

And to top off these 10 days, when I land in London next Saturday, I will be lucky enough to meet up with dear Ellen, who happens to be in London from Ottawa that weekend.

 

I recommend to all to use your vacations just as wisely. It's great to see Buckingham Palace and the Eiffel Tower, but nothing beats seeing the smiling faces of friends, both old and new.