tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20767067593525278022024-03-05T02:54:56.680-07:00Swiftian InevitabilitiesThis blog is an exploration of my life, my humour and my circumstances. I will try to entertain but make no promises. I hope eventually a theme will grow out of my ramblings, and eventually I will recognize it.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-2796548189048073122012-11-03T19:53:00.001-06:002012-11-04T07:56:48.340-07:00By popular demand...<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Halloween is done. Now there are no
more consumer relevant holidays until Christmas. Fortunately we can
exercise our free market rights between now and then by shopping
until our credit limits have been bloodied and beaten. Of course
nothing has come to symbolize those rights more than the jolly old
elf himself, Santa Claus. But Santa Claus is so old school. Not edgy.
Not dangerous. Not patentable.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
One of the true blessings that has come
from combining democracy with free markets, besides the complete
negation of our own humanity, is the ability, nay the requirement, to
adapt all things to the service of the gods of marketing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Take the lowly penguin for example. You
cannot use it for food, unless you are shipwrecked on Elephant
Island, just ask Shackleton. You cannot be used for clothing, they do
not go with anything you own. We have been totally unsuccessful
training them to flip hamburgers, so they are of no use to the
service industry.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But wait. We can use them for
marketing. They certainly have no bearing on Easter, or Queen
Victoria's birthday but how about Christmas. Perfect! Penguins are
cute and entirely meaningless in that context so lets use them to
market Christmas.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But wait. We are in Alberta. And we are
Albertans. We have our own mythology. We believe in the ethics of
hard work, determination, the individual, god and sparkly vampires.
We are not like those communists in B.C. and Saskatchewan, we are
Conservatives. All of us. Every one of us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_w0KxakN4-5iRKewVLast00DDbETiFiSF71tf7xEjlKF_CQJqKhgO_JMBZ2dQ8oVYloe8cK16hoWyt3MclYsX0UuhwaIR-4UXiLPUwZTgjuU9YbdT48wkulavSjrnC9Zm7AypP2kT2E/s1600/ChristmasCapybaraCombined-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_w0KxakN4-5iRKewVLast00DDbETiFiSF71tf7xEjlKF_CQJqKhgO_JMBZ2dQ8oVYloe8cK16hoWyt3MclYsX0UuhwaIR-4UXiLPUwZTgjuU9YbdT48wkulavSjrnC9Zm7AypP2kT2E/s200/ChristmasCapybaraCombined-Edit.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artists Rendition</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We need something that will symbolize
our core beliefs. Something that says we don't need high school
diplomas, an educated populace, or imagination. Something that shows
how very very very very important this holiday is to our souls and
spiritual well being. We need something that truly represents all of
that and so much more. Something that is Christmas in Alberta in the
year 2012.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Well, now we have it. Now we have the
<b>Christmas</b><b> Capybara</b>!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Merry CHRISTmas!</div>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-72200944781607182292012-07-04T15:29:00.002-06:002012-07-04T15:34:15.493-06:00Spare the rod and spoil the logic<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I recently saw a blog post
about using corporal punishment with children. All the studies I have
seen reference in blogs seem to show a negative correlation between
spanking and general well being. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6OM-7k5WlT0dcP4WNbxv3sPK_t8OyRE4vbeNZic3mCVySA42c8e5L-KwC1S81VvIZVOHLK7P1AfCXyGqh3A0r_OkOWWxsZcP3q_0ZkjGFRmTw2oypkIGX8wfTGMVrgWvFFqg3xzgBY4/s1600/2011+12+02+BrennanCalendar_018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6OM-7k5WlT0dcP4WNbxv3sPK_t8OyRE4vbeNZic3mCVySA42c8e5L-KwC1S81VvIZVOHLK7P1AfCXyGqh3A0r_OkOWWxsZcP3q_0ZkjGFRmTw2oypkIGX8wfTGMVrgWvFFqg3xzgBY4/s200/2011+12+02+BrennanCalendar_018.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">In the comments section
that followed the post a lot of people disputed those findings. Every
one of those commentators turned out fine because they had been
spanked as children. They weren't spanked excesively, just enough to
teach them a lesson. I am sure the studies showing all the benefits
of spanking are being supressed by the liberal bleeding heart
inteligencia.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The other thing that
became apparent is how recent a development personal and societal
problems really are. Before, when spanking was widespread, everyone
grew up respecting everyone around them. There seemed to have been no
problems with violence, crime or mental illness. Of course now that
some parents don't spank their children problems with violence, crime
and mental illness are rampant. The guilt I feel for having caused
these problems runs very deep although I am not sure how not spanking
my son, TroubleMaker, relates to spousal abuse, theft, murder, war,
and depression on a global scale. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I was impressed the powers
of logic and reason the people who had been spanked were able to
bring to the entire discussion. Besides the idea that they all turned
out just fine, there is also the concept that a little bit of
violence makes an effective and efficient teaching tool. To be honest
I had never really considered that possibility. When I think of the
minutes I wasted showing the babysitter how to use the television
remote when I could have just slapped her around a bit, I am
astounded. Why did I have to go to the trouble of showing my wife how
to use an orbital sander when I could have just slapped her around a
bit? Did I need to waste my time showing my 79 year old mom how to
use her cell phone when I could could have just slapped her around a
bit? I have to admit I am rethinking the idea of asking my wife
any questions about cooking. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The fact that everyone who
has ever been spanked has turned out okay really shows how wrong it
is not to use violence when training children. And the ability to
realize that once corporal punishment is no longer used all forms of
discipline become meaningless really showed how well versed the
pro-spanking group is on the subject of human development. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I had never previously
understood the relationship between fear and respect. It seems that
without fear there can be no respect. Communication, love and even
respect itself are simply tools used by bleeding heart social
liberals to undermine the fabric of our orderly and sound way of
life. It is only through the broad appilcation of fear that we can
keep those who know best in positions of power, which is exactly
where they should be because they know best. We know they know best
because they have told us. They know how to use fear. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">One other point that
seemed to be constantly made is that any new knowledge is bad.
Everything was always better back then. Especially when people were
spanked!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The only thing I don't
understand is if hitting your child occasionally is good, then how
come hitting anyone you please isn't better? It has to be better. So
in considering all the arguements that were presented I have
detemined a useful set of guidelines anyone can use before hitting
someone else: </span>
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use enough force to make your
point.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use enough force to cause
just enough pain.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use violence against those
weaker than you.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use violence when it is too
much work to do something positive.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use violence when you want to
teach someone a lesson.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Always make sure you backstop your
reasoning for uising violence with ignorance and supersition.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Only use violence when it is for
someone's own good.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;">All things were better
back then, and it is obviously spanking that acheived that for us so
I think adopting any regressive thinking will in fact benefit all of
us in the long term! </span>
</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-70865031239514400942012-06-17T20:27:00.000-06:002012-06-17T20:27:51.003-06:00June 17, this year<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIBeGL4EskQztjJvbes5fUaziIh798Nd7gwHPd1P5J1mG2oX6ChQU4XsE7NZmzrtgEk_RWh0u0FPFfiGwdTHPxowWlI0vLG8ocMv49wfQE3sVOeBpZ5MeKzkjFPFTll0xUGT2zfjXDMUM/s1600/2009+03+28+BrennanBirthday+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIBeGL4EskQztjJvbes5fUaziIh798Nd7gwHPd1P5J1mG2oX6ChQU4XsE7NZmzrtgEk_RWh0u0FPFfiGwdTHPxowWlI0vLG8ocMv49wfQE3sVOeBpZ5MeKzkjFPFTll0xUGT2zfjXDMUM/s200/2009+03+28+BrennanBirthday+079.jpg" width="146" /></a><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My fifth Father's Day and not a single
belt sander or skill saw (you don't know how thankful I am), but
neither was there a motorcycle or new motorhome.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
For the past few days we have been
gearing up for Father's Day. TroubleMaker loves to give gifts and he
is good at it. From my Oilers cap to my weird orange Halloween cat,
he has always worked very hard to pick out gifts he feels are
appropriate and he always does it with the enthusiasm and logic only
a child can bring to the activity. They weren't things I would have
chosen for myself but I treasure them. So today he got me a spotters
guide to World War II aircraft and a kit for making paper airplanes.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeqyY9cs7jL2x0vSyGvH8fJ_7Uxu9cgMQHGAFttKXebZvKLmdEzmPIppWUqqZF8PRjAl72-MkJzhX1BFD83TXpOVtcVD6z0GeBeNMmc_r6BcpybvNNNgRwatSrtmglhM2-mqHFe20Elo/s1600/2012+02+18+BrennanPortrait_016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeqyY9cs7jL2x0vSyGvH8fJ_7Uxu9cgMQHGAFttKXebZvKLmdEzmPIppWUqqZF8PRjAl72-MkJzhX1BFD83TXpOVtcVD6z0GeBeNMmc_r6BcpybvNNNgRwatSrtmglhM2-mqHFe20Elo/s200/2012+02+18+BrennanPortrait_016.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This got me to thinking and as often as
that gets me into trouble I felt today it might be a worthwhile
exercise. As much as I like to be praised and honoured regardless of
whether it is deserved, I think Father's Day also imposes some
requirements on us, the fathers. It is a time when each of us can
take a moment and consider what being a father means. What are we
trying to teach our children? What kind of people would we like them
to be? What can we do to be better fathers to our children? It is
time Father's Day meant something more than a card.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-10753001321211685132011-07-25T10:28:00.000-06:002011-07-25T10:28:58.928-06:00Old as dirt and twice as charming<div class="MsoNormal">There are a lot of things a preschooler doesn’t understand. They don’t seem to understand the value of money, time or vegetables. They don’t understand that things wear out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">TroubleMaker and I were in the car doing some errands the other day and he wanted his window rolled down. The car is 10 years old and the window by his car seat doesn’t work anymore. I explained the mechanism had broken. The window had worn out. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://s624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/?action=view&current=20110503_SliceCoats_0027_edited-1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="133" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110503_SliceCoats_0027_edited-1.jpg" width="200" /></a>Why did it wear out?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Everything wears out eventually.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">He paused for a moment and thought about that. Then he asked me if I was going to wear out. Perceptive.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Right now I am 51 years old. I am quickly approaching my 52<sup>nd</sup> birthday. Rumour has it that after that is my 53<sup>rd</sup> birthday. Aging doesn't stop.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After a half century of good and bad decisions I am starting to wear out. Most of the hair has fallen out of my head; I don’t even want to talk about where it is growing instead. My teeth require more work than I thought possible. My right arm and shoulder are giving me problems. My cholesterol is climbing. I have chest pains. My hips are bothersome. My knees start to smart just thinking about climbing the stairs. My heels throb. At night my legs twitch. Even my bladder is becoming a nuisance. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sleep has changed for me. If I sleep in the wrong position I end up with a stiff neck. Sleep is not supposed to be a risky activity. Do I have to get in shape to sleep?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have never been much of an athlete although I used to swim, cycle, cross country ski and play squash and racquetball. I wasn’t in great shape but I wasn’t completely pear shaped either. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Time and chocolate have a way of sneaking up on a person. They also have a way of wreaking havoc on your joints, ligaments and muscles. So I did what any self respecting man would do, I ignored the symptoms. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Of course I couldn’t ignore them when I tried to stand or walk. Not completely. Not to the point of being able to hide them. So my lovely wife noticed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At this point I would like to stop for a moment and explore one of the differences between men and women. Men are about doing and women are about communicating. Science based television programming aimed at smart people always seems to get around to this topic. Anything about our own strengths and weaknesses is always popular. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My wife communicated to me what I should do and it had nothing to do perdition or traveling, so I did it. It has ended up being several trips to the doctor as well as a couple of trips to labs for testing. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 153.0pt;">In the end there was nothing terrible wrong. A couple of sports injuries, a lax attitude, a fondness for chocolate covered long johns and a love of scotch have taken their toll. So far no one has indicated beer is a problem. I didn’t think I would ever have sports related injuries. Too bad they were football so I could at least brag about the glory days.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But all is not lost. Medications can help with some things. Pain cream and applying ice to the affected joints can help others. Proper fitting shoes can help. And exercise. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With a busy 3 year old son who just gets busier and busier I am left with one alternative. I have to get into shape. So we are hunting for a tread mill and I am visiting the fruit crisper in the refrigerator more often. I wonder though, if I end up with more energy, what will be the next thing on my list? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I would like to pass on a message to any young people reading this: Quite reading about the aches and pains of middle aged people and go get a life. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As an insightful nurse told me during all of this, aging is not for sissies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22http://s624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/?action=view&current=20110503_SliceCoats_0027_edited-1.jpg%22%20target=%22_blank%22%3E%3Cimg%20src=%22http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110503_SliceCoats_0027_edited-1.jpg%22%20border=%220%22%20alt=%22Photobucket%22%3E%3C/a%3E"></a></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-32743830238442212942011-06-19T10:43:00.001-06:002011-06-19T11:08:30.327-06:00Fathers Day and the Zombie Vampire Invasion<div class="MsoNormal">Halfway through the year and here we are sitting in the middle of Father’s Day. It is a good for day for children, wives and families to shower the fathers in their lives with presents and barbeques. There are no vampires. I just noticed when I mention vampires a lot more people read my blog. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">TroubleMaker gave me some books for Father’s Day. He got me a cook book we will be able to use together and a couple of story books we can read together. Then with the help of his mother, he made me a breakfast of waffles and bacon. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110619_FathersDay_0002_edited-2-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110619_FathersDay_0002_edited-2-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>This all got me thinking.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On Father’s Day and all the other days like it, we celebrate the named group. On this particular day we fathers can pat ourselves on the back when our families don’t do it enough and relax with whatever family friendly pursuits appeal to us. And that is what we always do. We celebrate ourselves. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After we have finished the celebration we are no wiser or happier than we were before the celebration. So as TroubleMaker and my lovely wife prepared my breakfast I started to consider what being a father meant.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If my hair line hadn't deserted me years ago it would certainly have been frightened off by TroubleMaker. There are days when I wonder if TroubleMaker is my reward or my punishment. And almost every chore would be easier if I didn’t have the input of a preschooler. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I think Father’s Day is really a day when we fathers should be taken a few moments to consider the circumstances that cause us to lose our hair and try our patience. To celebrate the fact I get to play dinosaurs and monster trucks. And how he has taught me so much. He has taught me how important it is for me to be healthy for his sake. He has taught me there are more questions than there are seconds in a day. He has taught me I need a nap every day. He has taught me we all need to read, every day, together. And he has taught me (this is where it gets sappy) how much I can love someone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So today I will accept the gifts and love of my family and I will try very hard to hang on to the lessons my son has worked so hard to teach me.</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-49974192794153627542011-03-23T12:16:00.002-06:002011-03-25T08:54:59.109-06:00If you don't like it here...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110317_MuttartConservatory_0007_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110317_MuttartConservatory_0007_edited-1.jpg" width="256" /></a>Edmonton, Alberta. It is at 53° 33” 0’ N and 113° 30' 0" W, approximately. The average high for the month of March is 1° C. There is still the possibility of snow. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is where I currently live. This morning it has been snowing. The wind was blowing a little bit. It is -5° C and with the wind it feels about 6 degrees colder. We have seen more snow this winter than we normally do, so we like to think, but that is not true. This part of the globe is cold and snowy in the winter time. Sometimes it is cold and snowy in the summer time. It gives us a break from the mosquitoes.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To go along with all of that cold and snow is the complaining. People love to hate winter. I used to enjoy winter, and still do sometimes but as I age my patience with the frosty season is growing shorter and shorter while the season seems to grow longer and longer. I am not alone in that feeling. People around me, in my family, my social circles, and neighborhood all seem to feel that winter is getting to be too much. I agree.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110317_SnowClearing_0021_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" r6="true" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110317_SnowClearing_0021_edited-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So why are there so many people in Edmonton? Why are there so many people in Alberta? We are here because of history. We are here because of stupidity. We are here because of jobs. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our ancestors decided they needed to be somewhere other than where they were. So for some reason they selected this country. I understand the need for people to escape persecution, to look for freedom. So why did they settle here? A couple of seasons living in this country should have told them it is just not nice. And even now, we have to spend more to stay warm, eat and generally get around than the people who live in tropical climates. We are using more resources to get at resources we need in order to live in an environment where we need more resources to live.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There were the greedy. This land seems to have a surplus of resources and if we had kept our appetites holstered we might not have need all those resources. So now, here we live in the dark and the cold extracting those resources so a few of the smarter people can get rich and live in warmer climates.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>When you look at the planet you quickly realize there is a band that runs around the centre where the weather is warm. Warm is not cold. How do I know this? There is some supposition but did you ever hear Bob Marley sing about block heaters, snow shovels or frost bite? As you move north and south from this band of warmth and livability the climate get colder and colder until all you have left is a frozen waste land. <br />
<br />
Sure people talk of the beauty of the north, and it may exist, but in the end miles and miles of ice and snow are still just miles and miles of ice and snow. Beauty lies in trees, grass and tropical seas; things with colour. Snow is white. White is not a colour. It is an absence of all colours. <br />
<br />
So people go south for their vacations. They feel they need to get away to somewhere warm to relax for a couple of weeks. Might it not make more sense to live in a warm climate where you can stay relaxed and then come up to a cold climate to play in the snow for a couple of weeks. It is not like if we all left the snow would just disappear. <br />
<br />
What is the solution? Simple, move everyone to a climate that does not have snow. Now you are thinking there is simple problem with that plan, there are too many people on the globe. You are right. There wouldn’t be room. The first thing to do is find me a suitable place in the sun, with appropriate living accommodations. This means a steady income (don’t confuse this with a job), a nice home with furnishings, and all the other things I need to enjoy my life. Then we, as a species, need reduce our population. <br />
<br />
There are a couple of plans for that. We could simply eliminate the stupid people but that would lead to too much arguing about who qualifies. I could draw up the specifications for such a qualification but not everyone sees from my point of view yet. As an alternative we slow down the breeding. Limit every couple to half a child. That is a statistically derived value and any one who thought otherwise would qualify for the ‘stupid’ category I am not allowed to specify. <br />
<br />
People in Canada, the United States and other countries around the world worry about human rights. It is a valid concern but I have the solution. Get over it! We could use a means test to determine who can breed. We set the bar high enough that the majority of people cannot pass. Problem solved.<br />
<br />
Dealing with people who float through multiple relationships would require stipulating that if they have bred once they will not be allowed to breed again. Problem solved.<br />
<br />
There are many other problems that could come from this kind of solution but we are well enough equipped to deal with them. As you read this right now you may be voicing all sorts of objections. Shut up. <br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The best part of this is that within a couple of generations the population would be reduced to a size the lands around the equator would be able to support. As a side benefit it would also mean less pollution and a generally cleaner world. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We also might have to reevaluate our own attitudes towards commerce, industry, the environment and our fellow man (and woman), but that probably wouldn’t hurt. After all a system that keeps encouraging growth on a planet with dwindling resources doesn’t sound like a system we should be all that proud of. </div><br />
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</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-15312991002383402172011-03-07T10:13:00.001-07:002011-03-07T10:15:16.409-07:00It is still -20It wasn’t the gutting of the Alberta Health Care. It wasn’t making quality education an option only for Alberta’s elite. Nor was it the idea of selling his fellow citizens to the lowest bidding oil company. Even the idea of being the prophet for a corrupt and obsolete philosophy didn’t seem to bother him. Once Ed Stelmach realized that, contrary to what Ralph Klein said, being premier of Alberta gave him no control over the weather, there was nothing left to do but resign.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-83770729852492007722011-03-04T16:35:00.004-07:002011-03-04T16:39:17.543-07:00A monster by any other name<div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7FupkQC4F5ozODgYMjwSVXzqKZgwS4JbFvXdutb7YClNNCyuHSTtYUC2vP7L1Gyq5LeveASX8V9WdUh_e4madbceMnVlwehDaauu09VJwJjpa1nB391ItknIojePTC1Q1XLgv_2PITM/s1600/the-count.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 174px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580372674247622354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7FupkQC4F5ozODgYMjwSVXzqKZgwS4JbFvXdutb7YClNNCyuHSTtYUC2vP7L1Gyq5LeveASX8V9WdUh_e4madbceMnVlwehDaauu09VJwJjpa1nB391ItknIojePTC1Q1XLgv_2PITM/s200/the-count.jpg" /></a>One night when, I had lots of better things to do but was too lazy to do any of them I was struck by similarities between Count von Count and Edward Cullen, and I am not just talking about their chiseled good looks. The Count was developed for Sesame Street in order to teach simple mathematics to children. Edward Cullen was created as a character in a tale of romance and sanitized sexuality largely aimed at teenagers.<br /><br />Both Edward and the Count are fictional characters although I will grant that some of Edward’s fans seem to have lost sight of that little fact. They are both aimed at children. It is true that the majority of the Count’s fans are much younger children and a lot of Edward’s fans are merely young at heart. In both cases however the concepts of death and evil have been stripped of anything that might offend a sensitive heart. When you are three years old, this is great.<br /><br />The count seems to suffer from arithmomania which is closely related to lore about vampires being unable to resist counting. Throw a handful of grain in the dear departed’s coffin and when they break out of the grave they will be bound to the spot counting kernels until the sun comes up. This doesn’t seem to bother Edward the whole thing about the sun is something of an issue here.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcum5PVcTQkZF1LUVSnO0uR10131Ug_queNa5COfYKznASXawXuAtQ8B5fuRbbgV6VW02xv_CfQJTG-PwSJQ17LkzMTlcEwN1n-2-wIK_U5dY0ybjbBYWtigEiKymYx1K4T03GneqTX8Y/s1600/EdwardCullen.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 163px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580372975557038802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcum5PVcTQkZF1LUVSnO0uR10131Ug_queNa5COfYKznASXawXuAtQ8B5fuRbbgV6VW02xv_CfQJTG-PwSJQ17LkzMTlcEwN1n-2-wIK_U5dY0ybjbBYWtigEiKymYx1K4T03GneqTX8Y/s200/EdwardCullen.jpg" /></a><br />In fact there is little of the traditional vampire in either of them. Despite how much Edward and his cohorts claim to love blood they don’t seem to take much of it, but then the Count doesn’t take any. The Count is meant for children; Edward’s character has simply been castrated. Watching the Count you notice something interesting about his skin. It is fuzzy. Edward sparkles? What is he, the cubic zirconium of the monster world? If it were a competition everyone knows the cuddly pet wins out over the shiny one every time.<br /><br />Neither the Count nor Edward seem to have a problem with garlic although other than anecdotal evidence it has never been proven that garlic will repel vampires. Both Edward and the Count have no need for mirrors as neither of them has a reflection. It is a good thing neither of them needs to shave. This could also explain why Edward always has the tousled hair women find so attractive these days. The Count also has some hypnotic powers which are kept under wraps these days. Edward just has that creepy weird connection with Bella.<br /><br />In researching their histories I found they were both created for or through acts of kindness. The Count was created as a teaching aid for children and Edward was turned into a vampire to avoid death from an influenza epidemic. I also found myself getting a bit uneasy with the idea of researching the histories of fictitious creatures.<br /><br />Edward Cullen is about as scary as a Sesame Street monster. The Count is a Sesame Street monster. On the Street the Count annoys people and other muppets with his constant counting. Edward is just annoying, once you get past his scary stalking Bella thing.<br /><br />Both the Count and Edward are much loved by their fans although some of Edward’s fans seem scarier than he is.<br /><br />Edward Cullen is a gifted musician and can play classical, jazz or what ever else he would like. When ever the Count sings it sounds like Romani music, regardless of what he is singing. That is sort of a gift.<br /><br />Interestingly it turns out that Edward Cullen is number 5 on Forbes list of the 10 Most Powerful Vampires. Count von Count is number 8. Angel and Spike beat both of them.<br /><br />The Count drives a silly car called the Countmobile. Edward drives a silly car called a Volvo.<br /><br />Count von Count has had a few girlfriends. Edward may have had other girlfriends besides Bella but it is hard for me to gage how attractive that dark sullen brooding countenance has been to women in the past.<br /><br />So as I have shown here there are quite a lot of similarities between Count von Count and Edward Cullen which explains why it is so easy to laugh off Mr. Cullen’s appearance on the popular culture landscape. Vampires really shouldn’t be neutered school boys.<br /><br />Of course now that I have proven that point I can move on to other more worthwhile endeavours, but first I have to watch Dr. Phil. Now he is COOL!</div></div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-20738059402877597252011-02-05T14:43:00.004-07:002011-02-05T17:01:08.747-07:00Like Father, Like Scotch<a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Baby-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Baby-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div>It has been almost 3 years since TroubleMaker appeared on the scene. It has been an interesting time full of surprises. I had never changed a diaper before TroubleMaker. Not one! I knew nothing about them and I liked it that way.<br /><br />Since TroubleMaker came into our lives things I have changed an estimated 2,400 diapers. It was really only a few dozen because we cloth diapered, so we reused a few of them. That means I washed about 800 loads of diapers.<br /><br />These are only estimates and don’t take into account what my wife did in the baby sanitary department. So why am I suddenly so preoccupied with diapers? It isn’t because there is any sort of monetary reward, although if there were I believe, based on the numbers presented here, $1.5 million would be a fair amount. Just saying.<br /><br />The point of the diaper story is to show things have changed in my life. I got married, acquired TWO mothers-in-law, became a father and have not had a decent <a href="http://www.laphroaig.com/">scotch</a> since TroubleMaker was born. Two mothers-in-law and no scotch; I have become a stronger person than I realized.<br /><br />But this morning I found something else. I heard TroubleMaker talking to my wife about breakfast and he told her “I want cornflakes with my daddy.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. His daddy! That’s me. Unexpectedly I found my reward. </div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-73328317203755589672011-01-08T16:00:00.003-07:002011-01-08T16:11:53.577-07:00It's snowing today....It snowed today. Actually it snowed yesterday afternoon, last night, this morning and this afternoon. It is supposed to snow more tonight and tomorrow. It has dumped about 15 cm. of snow on us, a fair amount but not enough to trap us in our homes and businesses. Too bad. We’re prepared. We have lots of hot chocolate, ginger cookies, pizza fixings, a couple of sleighs, a toboggan, and a couple of Jeeps. That doesn’t even include the shovels and other implements of wintery destruction.<br /><br />With a population of approximately 782,439 warm souls in Edmonton, it seems like 7<a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110108_SnowDay_0001_edited-1.jpg"></a>82,000 are complaining about the snow. That seems odd you consider it has snowed here for probably the last 20,000 years. We should be at least a little prepared for it. I know we, as a species, are not great for planning ahead. Heck, morning always takes me by surprise, but collectively we have known about the coming snow since last summer. The snow tire ads on television should have been enough to alert us to the coming catastrophe. And we did have a several hours warning of this latest snow fall. <br /><br />Maybe it is because I have come under the preternatural influence of a gregarious 2 year old, but I am finding snow to be a lot of fun. A small pile of snow in the back yard and<a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110108_SnowDay_0001_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 94px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 128px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110108_SnowDay_0001_edited-1.jpg" /></a> away we go, sliding for the morning. Then after the morning of shoveling and playing it is time for hot chocolate and a snack. Now that our naps are done, it is time to consider the pizza party for tonight.<br /><br />Tomorrow morning, it will be back outside to clear more snow, play with some cheap sleds, and then run and fall in the snow. TroubleMaker likes winter, and I can understand why. He makes it fun.<br /><br /><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110108_SnowDay_0003_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20110108_SnowDay_0003_edited-1.jpg" /></a>Now if someone would just dig the car out of the snow bank, I would be grateful. There is a steaming cup of hot chocolate as a reward! Any takers?Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-59509575010115358212011-01-05T17:37:00.002-07:002011-01-06T18:39:24.199-07:00The dreaded Monster-In-LawThe other day it came to light that one of my mother’s-in-law was reading my blog.<br /><br />I know what you are thinking, “Multiple mothers-in-law? How did you manage to get more than one woman to marry you? Why haven’t you been arrested?”<br /><br />This is not the utopian fantasy of multiple wives to serve my every whim and want. It is one of the outcomes of the changing nature of the family. Marriage, divorce, remarriage, re-divorce, drunken indiscretions have all combined to create a new family structure. In my case, it has resulted in two mothers-in-law, and I now know that at least one of them has been reading this blog. Now I have to watch what I say.<br /><br />I did a bit of research about the concept of the mother-in-law. There appears to be only 10 clean jokes about them. There are lots of other jokes but they aren’t nice. The clean jokes aren’t funny.<br /><br />Most of the axioms, aphorisms and proverbs about mothers-in-law are not nice, except maybe the biblical ones, but it is hard to tell if those are about mothers-in-law or sin. Surprisingly mothers-in-law are not universally respected. I don’t understand why. About the only ones who didn’t have anything bad to say about mothers-in-law were Adam and Oscar Wilde. Neither of my mothers-in-law seems overtly evil.<br /><br />In fact they can be quite nice. One mother-in-law is always grateful when I carry her bags to her car after one of her stays with us. I guess the question is: What son-in-law wouldn’t assist his mother-in-law with getting her baggage to the curb?<br /><br />The phenomenon of the mother-in-law is closely associated with interference. That means my mothers-in-law should be interfering with my family. I know, from my research, that this can be an insidious process that makes itself known within weeks of the wedding. While I haven’t seen anything like this in the four years of our marriage I know what to look for now.<br /><br />One of the other hallmarks of the typical mother-in-law is the ‘imposition’. We all know the types of impositions. Invitations to dinner! Babysitting TroubleMaker so we can go out! Help with household chores when they visit! The list is endless! Okay, so it is not a great list, still, you get the idea!<br /><br />Through all of this trial and turmoil I have learned that the grandchild is the great equalizer. He is no longer just my son. He will be my pawn. I can ransom his time with his grandparents, my mothers-in-law, for what ever I desire; a new car, a new motorhome, even a roof for the house (just to show I am not completely selfish). And as soon as I can get him and his mother, my wife, in line with my scheme to combat the mother-in-law problem we will start to see positive results. Someday they will come around to my way of thinking<br /><br />So while it may look to the casual observer that I am pretty lucky to have the mothers-in-law I do have, I also know looks can be deceiving. I am just not sure how that applies to this case. Remember, you can’t let the facts get in the way of a good story.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-11710812985062443342010-12-31T12:52:00.002-07:002010-12-31T12:55:38.446-07:00A Year in Review, sorta<div>A new year is approaching; a chance to change calendars. It seems the most popular parts of the rolling over of the year are resolutions, nonsensical lists reviewing the past year and drinking.<br /><br />People also spend a lot of time reviewing the waning year looking to see if can tell us something significant about ourselves or our peers. The success of the exercise seems to depend on the talents of the analyst and the honesty applied to the analysis.<br /><br />That is why so many of us don’t make New Years Resolutions, we don’t look at our lives with a great deal of honesty. If we truly did how many of us would smoke, drink or be Conservatives?<br /><br />So before I begin tonight’s round of smoking and drinking I would like to do a little review of my own year. There are even points where I will apply a little truthfulness to the process.<br /><br />I spent part of this year battling my own strange little demons. I would like to lay the blame for their existence squarely on my parent’s shoulders but I have to take responsibility for my own life at some point. I will make note of this for next year.<br /><br />With the support of my lovely wife and our dog Max I have been able wrestle my black cloud of emotional turmoil into something that resembles submission. It isn’t gone, but neither does it control my life like it once did. And now I have ways to deal with it.<br /><br />The biggest change I saw for myself this year was my son. As much as I loved him before, it is nothing like what I feel now. Sure, at times he can still make me crazy. The logic a two year old uses resembles nothing I have ever encountered before. The lessons he has learned from me, good and bad, have taught me how incredibly important my wife and I are to his development and well being. This is the point where I would like to babble on endlessly about how great he is and what he has taught me, but I hate it when people do that. Instead I will save it for when we have company and I want something to talk about. Nothing like discussing the emotional upheaval brought on by fatherhood to bore the snot out of everyone you encounter.<br /><br />I would just like to say I have the greatest son in the world but that would then require so many others to rise up and defend their sons, so rather than start all that I just won’t say it. I will think it however.<br /><br />I still have a lot to work on, like learning to compromise on piles of stuff. It seems I am not easiest person to live with, although I cannot imagine where that idea came from, though I do promise in the future to ………. Who are we kidding? I am not going to radically change, but hopefully I will change a little bit time, like letting my wife know how much I really do appreciate her and how much of a difference she makes to my life.<br /><br />Happy New Year!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 169px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20101230_NaturalLightPortraits_0012_edited-1.jpg" /></div><br /><div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-16197765536560042192010-12-15T12:49:00.004-07:002010-12-16T08:49:21.570-07:00Christmas PenguinsOver the years Christmas traditions have changed. Santa Claus has gown into a jolly cross cultural icon with a wonderfully soft white beard and a belly like a bowl full of jelly. Donder became Donner, don’t ask about Blixem. We stand by as the corporate world turns Christmas into an orgy of packaging and spending.<br /><br />In the face of all this my family is carving out a version of Christmas with our own symbols of peace, love, harmony and magic. And this is good.<br /><br />But really, penguins?<br /><br />When did penguins become a symbol of good will? How did they manage to infiltrate Christmas? Who is on their public relations team? Who are their stylists?<br /><br />Did it start with Coca Cola and their advertisements showing polar bears and penguins frolicking together? Whose genius idea was that? Has climate changed pushed the North Pole right into the South Pole?<br /><br />The whole Christmas experience is a northern one. Reindeer are a northern animal. There are no magical elves in the southern hemisphere. Santa Clause lives at the North Pole although there is debate around whether it is the geographic or magnetic North Pole. Recent evidence showing the magnetic North Pole is slipping from the top of the globe will present some logistical problems for Santa, but if you can get eight reindeer to fly you should be able to handle the inconvenience of polar relocation.<br /><br />The thing is, no matter how much the North Pole has moved it is still not the South Pole and there are no penguins at the North Pole. They have not migrated, emigrated or otherwise been displaced.<br /><br />Penguins have never made it into our popular mythology. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, while seemingly anatomically unlikely, did not join in the Reindeer Games. There is no mention of penguin games. Cupid and the Easter Bunny have completely shunned the lowly penguin.<br /><br />They are not even the right colours. Christmas is about green and red. Penguins are black and white. True, they are both dichromatic, but Christmas incorporates so many more colours to underscore its meaning. Penguins ultimately do not. Sure there is some shading and highlights, but penguins are still black and white.<br /><br />Look at who they are displacing. When was the last time you heard anything about the Christmas seal? It has been a while! Seals are cute, at least when they are babies and before they are clubbed. The arctic fox is beautiful, all white and sly. Sure they have the carnivore thing to overcome but penguins aren’t strictly vegetarian either. The polar bears that the penguins are supposedly cavorting with have more than a little gristle stuck in their teeth. And who ever considers the walrus.<br /><br />I don’t want it to seem like I have an anti-penguin bias. They have their place in the world; it is just not here, at Christmas. I am sure there is some strange holiday that incorporates penguins although I cannot image what a flightless waddling bird might symbolize.<br /><br />So please, let’s set aside the nasty penguin and keep the mammal in Christmas!Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-85314489145479557712010-12-12T12:13:00.004-07:002010-12-12T12:28:46.260-07:00CompareAnother time frame I am pretending approximates a week and another word.<br /><br />It‘s like comparing apples to oranges. It does seem pretty obvious but in the cliché lives the definition. In composing the image it became necessary to editorialize. Trying to find objects I could use as props was a bit of a challenge. Symbolism can be a challenge. And there are no Beaver Nuts.<br /><br /><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20101212_Compare_0011_edited-1.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 247px; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/20101212_Compare_0011_edited-1.jpg" /></a>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-29034801223063305962010-12-12T12:10:00.002-07:002010-12-12T12:33:16.668-07:00Canadiana<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsV7oswR1enjfTcpyvr4XQWeig_qAk4a7kLQ6B9TUjGPXamCZnoQn2nRQcysoJF2j_saqXLfx2H1w2aeHNnLEsWRm4QstbX7jAxHAKVINue0cKP6VySKvB9H_rM7WEaABGzcN-Z47fto/s1600/12-10-2010-17-29-33-15_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 143px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549875708882726754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsV7oswR1enjfTcpyvr4XQWeig_qAk4a7kLQ6B9TUjGPXamCZnoQn2nRQcysoJF2j_saqXLfx2H1w2aeHNnLEsWRm4QstbX7jAxHAKVINue0cKP6VySKvB9H_rM7WEaABGzcN-Z47fto/s200/12-10-2010-17-29-33-15_edited-1.jpg" /></a> This flyer was recently delivered to our mailbox. I commented on it on my Facebook page but it is just too funny to leave it alone. In my obsession to promote this particular piece I have been accused of being a bit childish. I do like the Three Stooges and there are days when this type of humour works for me. It is true that had someone else found it I might not find it nearly as funny, but I found it and I do think it is funny. So for all those who missed it the first time, here it is again (and I promise I won’t use it too many more times).Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-74672062445392892712010-11-12T14:38:00.009-07:002010-11-12T15:02:32.672-07:00Many<div>A simple concept and a picture I made for my lovely wife for her blog. I liked the image so I have decided to use it as the picture for my word this week. She does have a lot of buttons, but she is learning to deal with them. I am very proud of her. Now let’s hope she isn’t too aware of my own hording tendencies.<br /><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101101_ButtonHoarding_0029_edited-1.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 163px; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101101_ButtonHoarding_0029_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br />Also, don’t pay too much attention to the dates. The definition of a week is becoming a little loose <a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101101_ButtonHoarding_0029_edited-1.jpg"></a>around here, at least for me!<br /></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-29789184784924203812010-11-12T14:22:00.003-07:002010-11-12T14:34:08.140-07:00Catch<a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101031_Catch_0002_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 184px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 139px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101031_Catch_0002_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div>It didn’t seem that tough a word initially and in reality it really wasn’t, once I got past the urge to be exceedingly clever. When I considered what I was going to do with this one I decided using it in the context of playing catch with the football would be the concept I would use. I never got to toss the ol’ pigskin around with TroubleMaker this summer and I now regret we didn’t play as much as I feel we should have. That is kind of disappointing to me.<br /><br /><a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101031_Catch_0005_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 101px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101031_Catch_0005_edited-1.jpg" /></a>Then my lovely wife threw in a suggestion. She reasoned, correctly, that because we are a team she could contribute to my almost weekly word. Her idea was a picture of her juggling and since we were already set up to take TroubleMaker’s Halloween picture, this would be the perfect opportunity. She was right.<br /><br />So <a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/20101031_Catch_0005_edited-1.jpg"></a>this weeks work has two images, mine and ours. Sorry, there is no ‘yours.’</div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-68113625714093377252010-10-19T09:42:00.004-06:002010-11-12T14:24:29.507-07:00LeisureWhat a great word. It People have so many interpretations for what qualifies as a leisure activity but the word, as a noun, simply indicates freedom from the demands of work. Two of the many nice compartments we divide our lives into; work and leisure.<br /><br />So just what might quality as a good subject for ‘leisure’? Photography, camping, gambling, painting? There were too many ideas to choose from so I looked to my 2 year old son, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">TroubleMaker</span></span> to provide me with a bit of insight; after all he <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">doesn</span></span>’t have many of my prejudices yet.<br /><br />This past weekend we took a drive in the country looking for a suitable location for a picture I wanted to take for our 2011 calendar. We finally found the location in a hay field half an hour outside of town. One of the props we brought with us was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">TroubleMaker</span></span>’s tractor. <div><div><div><br />When <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">TroubleMaker</span></span> caught sight of the huge round hay bales in the<a href="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/Tractoring-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 187px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 148px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i624.photobucket.com/albums/tt323/mtimezz/Blog%20Pictures/Tractoring-1.jpg" /></a> field he became of a single intent: to tractor the bales! So that is what I have selected as my photograph for this week. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tractoring</span></span> hay bales may not fall into the realm of traditional leisure activities but it was his choice and I have to learn to respect his choices. He <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">doesn</span></span>’t have a box he has to worry about thinking outside of yet. </div></div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-35922479249703413162010-10-11T19:47:00.005-06:002010-10-11T19:55:36.292-06:00Detail<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqyz41PQuL5w9LNbXg-HiTRhv6IhNigNzsnoe_xt9O6yfcaxiRH9EEOXfPAkIuzWAgrYnyNjVXfKM2k6owxMXsvcffhTDbAYBamqg2VNqas1ix_9lqBjiEdxF-PRxETniAEAG2fdRuYI/s1600/2010+10+10_Detail_0013_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 122px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526970513704037378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqyz41PQuL5w9LNbXg-HiTRhv6IhNigNzsnoe_xt9O6yfcaxiRH9EEOXfPAkIuzWAgrYnyNjVXfKM2k6owxMXsvcffhTDbAYBamqg2VNqas1ix_9lqBjiEdxF-PRxETniAEAG2fdRuYI/s320/2010+10+10_Detail_0013_edited-1.jpg" /></a> The word ‘detail’ is not particularly interesting, if any word can be said to be interesting, but it is a word that left me some room for interpretation. So this past week end my wife, TroubleMaker, Max and I went out to my mother-in-law’s place for Thanksgiving dinner.<br /><br />I spent a little bit of time wandering around the acreage with my camera looking at the abandoned vehicles and machinery lying about. Somewhere there had to something that I could use for this weeks word. And there was. It is the end of a spoke in a steel wheel from an old piece of farm equipment. I simply liked the texture and colour and so have produced this image.<br /><br /><p> </p><p>I also found an old motorcycle which interested me. It was a good weekend with good food, nice family and some satisfying pictures.</p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 131px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526971057593988610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOkTeviQoO7xRcAhF_-Q4yrM79o0CVXX4bwJoRfZ1r9skdPSuFv3Ed6-jif2HXI0taP8Boa-uaZR8iF6UBk6HQ5H4skjnvxzXdbYv85sEeoOIN2kq5eVchBs6Njl0SNLaTgi6mFdtxzgE/s320/2010+10+10_Detail_0007_edited-1.jpg" /><br /></p>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-818491494979158572010-10-04T11:33:00.003-06:002010-10-04T11:38:41.774-06:00TeenagerThe word itself is not evil. Some view teenagers as evil but that is a generalization that generally is not true. The word is seldom applied to anything that is not human, and again some will argue teenagers are not human but generally they are. I was of the opinion that teenagers were just intellectually challenged adults until I started to really look at some of the adults I have known. Either I didn’t give teenagers enough credit or a lot of adults never matured beyond their teenage years.<br /><br />Despite anyone’s feelings about them, the word ‘teenager’ has been my word for the last week. Not my word exclusively although I can’t say I heard anyone else using it, but a word that was randomly selected for my weekly photographic exercise.<br /><br />I failed. Trying to photograph something that meant ‘teenager’ to me was difficult. I didn’t want to use anyone in the photograph. I don’t know that many teenagers and using a stranger would have meant release forms, parents and possible stalker accusations. I don’t relish being a creepy old man, at least not yet. For this single picture I wasn’t going to enter that arena. And I also found it is difficult to photograph a school and have the picture mean anything.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524245800581160818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqv5rMAxYRPvP_G5oXrD35F6dV7aL1U6rkrdZb77NANT-hR6rIgUSxDYVMs2fpazKEZN5hM49DeStyMyt3z4IQSpSuCoAVw3Hs1uFB5vJ9l6kVc2KDMyswVR56TPTn-hfRBCtJvygc7I/s320/teenager-1.jpg" /><br />So the picture you see here is what resulted. Not very good, not very symbolic and certainly not satisfying to me but a picture none the less. Next week will be better, I hope!Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-82888485657411055932010-09-24T15:16:00.006-06:002010-09-25T10:22:43.836-06:00Advances in maturityThe other evening my wife was complaining about life. She wasn’t really complaining and it wasn’t about life. She was voicing a lament about TroubleMaker. And it really was less about him and more about his sense of timing. More specifically she was unsettled by how wide the always present gap between what he wants to play and what we need to accomplish is at any given time.<br /><br />That morning we had been trying to change the sheets on the bed and TroubleMaker had to help. He always seems to need to help. Now I am not sure how much serious research has been done on this but to a two year old playing hide and seek under the sheets is more fun than actually making the bed. The problem lays in the fact that playing hide and seek does not get the bed made. Then there are all the things we had planned for after the bed was made.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VAUG9nLKZEgMvbjpgqyTqx3BJ2GDhvqRo045VOm5DVDERY4e6jTmPH1fvRmk4ZDBOcWIc4FN2_7h9LjqbHlB-wh-67dpbkin8qRyE7LFGLfSoMDdcGRZTgEyxm0lY-eYDLwCRkqwfOk/s1600/2010+09+06+Holidays+044_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520592808941949202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VAUG9nLKZEgMvbjpgqyTqx3BJ2GDhvqRo045VOm5DVDERY4e6jTmPH1fvRmk4ZDBOcWIc4FN2_7h9LjqbHlB-wh-67dpbkin8qRyE7LFGLfSoMDdcGRZTgEyxm0lY-eYDLwCRkqwfOk/s320/2010+09+06+Holidays+044_edited-1.jpg" /></a> This isn’t the first time we have run into this. Two year old children are notorious for having short attention spans and being distracted by inappropriate activities.. Additionally they do not have the sophisticated coping mechanisms we mature members of the species have developed. We are able to sidestep fun very adeptly. In fact, I am pretty sure it has become an almost instinctual reaction to life for most of us. There is after all an appropriate time and place for fun.<br /><br />And this is not the first time I have run into this issue. I have lived with a dog for the last decade. Max is a schnauzer. That may seem an irrelevant fact, but the Standard Schnauzer is a working breed and it seems like every moment of every day he is ready <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBAzPGkYNhXmiObWBzq-P_1YJr5NenQArgCh3La5UZuBM4-hAI1uN-wsDyhnV3Xsb7CMHE4FrGdqn-EJqqfpUzdMWPy3BY-p9uSwjkTB1mU3-m4GEpydN0Kwyv8laIokhzh0xw3Wx5-g/s1600/2008+01+03+002_edited-1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520592198699004098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBAzPGkYNhXmiObWBzq-P_1YJr5NenQArgCh3La5UZuBM4-hAI1uN-wsDyhnV3Xsb7CMHE4FrGdqn-EJqqfpUzdMWPy3BY-p9uSwjkTB1mU3-m4GEpydN0Kwyv8laIokhzh0xw3Wx5-g/s320/2008+01+03+002_edited-1.jpg" /></a>to play. If I move towards the door, he is ready for a walk. We step outside and he tries to start some sort of game. In his eyes any movement on our part might, and probably should, lead to some sort of new excitement. But he is a dog and does not understand the pressing requirement we have to be productive.<br /><br />For a time I was mildly interested in Jimmy Buffet’s life, and to a certain degree with Jimmy Buffet himself. This came from time spent reading his autobiography. I found he has an irrational need to enjoy his life. Music, airplanes and fishing, rather than productive endeavours, seem to occupy a great deal of his time.<br /><br />More and more this message keeps popping up. From Magnum PI to Santa Claus, the great minds of our time keep pointing us towards a new and different way of living. Something apart from what we already know and accept, something that includes fun: a lifestyle that incorporates time for fun.<br /><br />There is little flexibility built into a typical adult daily schedule to allow for playing but I have learned to make that time. We need to make time for fun, we just can’t allow ourselves too much of it, either the time or the fun.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-86363299830405054012010-08-16T20:53:00.001-06:002010-08-16T20:54:53.920-06:00spel chekri hav bene spendng som tiem lokng thru online clasfied ads dreamn of a lif ov aluans wen i notised a trnd amung tha ads. it seeems the enlish langage is evolvg, ore mybe the peeple r changeing<br />i see peeples whoe can by an thn sale automobeels, lectronics and lotsa sufisticated consumr stuf butt cannt rite a simpl lines scribing thee itm thay got 4sale.yu needs ta wundr hows thay caan bee respnsbl fore sew manee complx activitys licke driveing a car, helding down a jobe or operateing a computor but thay cant expres! r thy dummy or maybee i can gets stuff frum thems fer less if i talks goodly.<br />eether waye it difcult sumtimes to unnerstand how peeples funcshun whin thay cnt mister simpl comuncashion. peepl rnt chngeing thay r justly geting lazyer. and whatt so difcult bout spell checker aniway?Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-72688780216731407292010-08-11T14:47:00.000-06:002010-08-11T14:48:22.551-06:00Another part of the creative process!What do you write about when you have nothing to say? I suppose that is what writer’s block is about. <br /><br />It is not that things don’t happen but none of it seems to excite my desire to write. I don’t want to waste my time bitching about people who text while driving, or the really unaware people all around us, or conservatives. I have a lot of petty squabbles with the world and when I can’t sleep or life conspires against me I spend time considering them, but they are ultimately meaningless. I can do little about so many of those situations.<br /><br />I live with a 2 year old so it isn’t that I don’t see a lot of funny things happen. I see a lot of cute things happen. When he gives me a big hug and tells me ‘love you very much daddy’, well I shouldn’t have to tell you what that means to me. But is it something people want to read about? Does that matter? If you have made it this far you just read about it.<br /><br />I think writer’s block is the challenge the Muses use to test us. If you can overcome it through diligence and hard work then you do deserve to be a writer. If you can’t then you don’t.<br /><br />Or it could really be just an opportunity to see how much like an anal retentive boring adult I can really be. I am not sure I am all that happy with my success.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-11915930374870896892010-06-28T21:00:00.001-06:002010-06-28T21:01:46.701-06:00It caught me by suprise...We had finished our morning rituals and were about embark on our day. Sometimes I really enjoy the nonsensical, so I had to ask TroubleMaker a question:<br /><br />“What are you dreams? What do you want from life?”<br /><br />He thought for a moment and then looked me straight in the eye. He said “Hab mommie milk a night.”<br /><br />True story!Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2076706759352527802.post-18250971624213368762010-06-09T15:04:00.001-06:002010-06-09T15:05:50.264-06:00Women are from Venus, Men are from Toys'R'UsThere are a lot of things about raising a kid I don’t know. Breast feeding and properly dressing wounds are skills I haven’t developed.<br /><br />There are things I can learn. I can learn to prepare something to eat for TroubleMaker. Although it is difficult to call my creations meals, we do end up with something to nourish us. I have learned to change diapers, bath a child, kiss an ‘owie’ and clean up after he has been sick (sick all over the bed, me and the bathroom). I have learned not to get sick at the sight of someone getting sick.<br /><br />There are some things I did already know and they may yet come in handy. I can eat for a week using a single pot and a spoon. I can lube the chain on a motorcycle and not get oil on my dress shirt. I can get a Jeep stuck in the mud, while wearing dress shoes, on my way home from work. And I can play. When I boil water it may take a hazardous waste disposal team to deal with the aftermath and diaper changes may ultimately lead to the dreaded poopy blowout, but I can play.<br /><br />I remember what it was like as a child to be exposed to new toys and have to draw conclusions about their play worthiness. Would it do what I wanted, which should not be confused with was advertised or even what it was designed for. How would dirt affect the toy? How would water affect the toy? How about mud? A child does not just browse the Sear’s Christmas Wish Book.<br /><br />I also remember the toys that were fun. They allowed us to think outside the box, or at least outside the packaging. They could withstand hours of play and usually did not give us lead poisoning. We were constrained only by our imaginations and the interfering hands of our parents. <br /><br />So last year my mother-in-law gave TroubleMaker a wooden train set for his birthday. It was an inexpensive one from a local supermarket. It was inexpensive only because my mother-in-law knows how to shop, and it wasn’t branded with some expensive trade mark. We have since added an expansion pack to it and TroubleMaker gets loads of fun out of it – ‘PAY TAINS’ seems to be his favorite refrain.<br /><br />We can set it up, play for a few days then tear it down. A few days later we set it up again with a completely different layout. TroubleMaker contributes his own ideas to each layout and we have loads of fun. After a while there were some unsettling incidents.<br /><br />TroubleMaker is an equal opportunity playmate and will draft either my wife or I into playing trains with him. We run the trains around the layout, set up the bridges after he knocks them down, run the trains around some more, wrestle, set up the bridges again, and so on and so on and so on. One night my wife was playing with the TroubleMaker and the trains and asked if we could get some more accessories for the set. I naturally wanted to know what sort of accessories. I am very frugal, sometimes, and the thought of a train shed or turntable scared me. They are expensive. My wife wanted some buildings. Why? So when the engineers parked their trains they would have some place to go for coffee and talk. Go for coffee? Talk? This is not how boys play. Talk? Then it wouldn’t be playing it would be talking. Since when are boys supposed to talk? They yell and scream. Talk? They charge, run, and tackle. Talk? They build and destroy. We do not talk.<br /><br />Clearly my beloved wife did not understand the point of trains but hours of intense play therapy on the floor with TroubleMaker have taught her how he plays and how boys play. She has even learned to design her own layouts with TroubleMaker. Still, at the end of evening, when it is time to park the trains on a siding and whisk TroubleMaker off to bed, they still call it stopping for coffee. I suppose it doesn’t really matter as long as everyone is having fun.<br /><br />Maybe play at that level is not as natural for women as it is for men, or maybe I am not as far removed from childhood as I thought. I don’t think I will pose that question to my wife.Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04583290770975085635noreply@blogger.com0