Awoke
Blind and dumb to the ways
Observed and listened
Witnessed hate, violence, indifference
Saw it all
Saw what we truly were
Felt hate
Felt the mercilessness
And resolved.....
Would end the potential
Would break the spine of the world
Saturday, December 31, 2011
The Sleeping Dream
Awoke
Blind and dumb to the ways
Observed and listened
Witnessed love, tenderness, compassion
Saw it all
Saw what we could be if we only tried
Felt love
Felt loved
And resolved.....
Would fulfill the potential
Would save the soul of the world
Blind and dumb to the ways
Observed and listened
Witnessed love, tenderness, compassion
Saw it all
Saw what we could be if we only tried
Felt love
Felt loved
And resolved.....
Would fulfill the potential
Would save the soul of the world
Monday, December 5, 2011
Food For Thought
I've been debating for some time whether to wade into this. It's something of a charged topic and a little more serious than what's normally posted on this blog.
But since I'm here and since it's on my mind....
There's been a lot of flack directed towards folk who hunt, kill and eat animals. Certain members of PETA, Vegans, Vegetarians (no, not all of them) have been weighing in and not all of what's been fired off has been accurate, informed or above the belt.
First off, I am not an advocate of animal cruelty. It happens. We all know it happens. And not solely at the hands of faceless corporations. It's also being perpetrated by some of our neighbors towards their pets and the occasional small child who's got hold of some firecrackers. The latter, while not cool, could be chalked up to simply not knowing any better......and hopefully not moving on to larger explosives.
A friend of mine, an avid hunter, recently posted a photo of his son eating seal. He very quickly received a great deal of flack. Indeed, I believe one individual stated that as a result of this act, he had booked himself a place in hell.
What!?
This same individual had a photo of themselves with a young seal pup. Now, as I understand it, her scent is likely now all over that pup and as a result, the mother will abandon it. This will result in the pups death. Nice job.
Now, this is where I admit that I am not some beacon of enlightenment on the matter. But I've lived here for some time and I do know that many folk across the north depend on the spoils of their hunt to survive. And it's not only them. Many hunters will share much of their catch with folk in their communities, elders, for instance, who are no longer able to hunt. Some are unemployed for whom this is a large chunk of their livelihood and as I understand it, every bit of their kills that's usable, is used.
The simple fact is that I am tired of hearing misinformed, wrong, hurtful and occasionally racist remarks directed towards not just Inuit, but anyone who depends on such endeavors to survive.
If you wish to go about your life subsisting on plant life, that's your business. Fill your boots.
If you wish to berate those who eat meat, who kill animals to procure that meat. Well, I'm exceedingly less cool with that. I'm generally not a fan of anyone who attempts to shove their views down the throats of others and convert them to their way of doing things. But doing so while not in possession of all the facts, or worse, incorrect facts is foolish.
Educate yourselves!
If you still feel the same, that's fine. However, those of us who enjoy a good steak would appreciate it if you kept the judgemental remarks to yourselves.
Now, to those of you who live with blinders on, refuse to educate yourselves and continue to spout off with the holier than thou statements and racist comments.....
Piss off.
But since I'm here and since it's on my mind....
There's been a lot of flack directed towards folk who hunt, kill and eat animals. Certain members of PETA, Vegans, Vegetarians (no, not all of them) have been weighing in and not all of what's been fired off has been accurate, informed or above the belt.
First off, I am not an advocate of animal cruelty. It happens. We all know it happens. And not solely at the hands of faceless corporations. It's also being perpetrated by some of our neighbors towards their pets and the occasional small child who's got hold of some firecrackers. The latter, while not cool, could be chalked up to simply not knowing any better......and hopefully not moving on to larger explosives.
A friend of mine, an avid hunter, recently posted a photo of his son eating seal. He very quickly received a great deal of flack. Indeed, I believe one individual stated that as a result of this act, he had booked himself a place in hell.
What!?
This same individual had a photo of themselves with a young seal pup. Now, as I understand it, her scent is likely now all over that pup and as a result, the mother will abandon it. This will result in the pups death. Nice job.
Now, this is where I admit that I am not some beacon of enlightenment on the matter. But I've lived here for some time and I do know that many folk across the north depend on the spoils of their hunt to survive. And it's not only them. Many hunters will share much of their catch with folk in their communities, elders, for instance, who are no longer able to hunt. Some are unemployed for whom this is a large chunk of their livelihood and as I understand it, every bit of their kills that's usable, is used.
The simple fact is that I am tired of hearing misinformed, wrong, hurtful and occasionally racist remarks directed towards not just Inuit, but anyone who depends on such endeavors to survive.
If you wish to go about your life subsisting on plant life, that's your business. Fill your boots.
If you wish to berate those who eat meat, who kill animals to procure that meat. Well, I'm exceedingly less cool with that. I'm generally not a fan of anyone who attempts to shove their views down the throats of others and convert them to their way of doing things. But doing so while not in possession of all the facts, or worse, incorrect facts is foolish.
Educate yourselves!
If you still feel the same, that's fine. However, those of us who enjoy a good steak would appreciate it if you kept the judgemental remarks to yourselves.
Now, to those of you who live with blinders on, refuse to educate yourselves and continue to spout off with the holier than thou statements and racist comments.....
Piss off.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Giant Lizard
Health! Wellness!
You know what. Flying sucks. Why? Well, if you have to ask, go away.
A couple of weeks back (yeah, I should have posted sooner) I was scheduled to head on over to Yellowknife for a conference. I was looking forward to it. Not only that, but I had the opportunity to see some old friends who have left Iqaluit in their rear view mirror. Very sad. The fact that they left, not the fact that I would see them. The hell is wrong with you?
And so, around noonish, day of departure, the weather takes a direct route to "Fuck you airplane" territory. Much of the talk centered around whether flights would make it in and out. Well, the wind and snow didn't seem to be putting a damper on flights. They were coming and going as usual, though a little delayed here and there.
There was hope!
Myself and the other conference goers arrived at the airport close to 5 or 6 as our flight was slated to head out close to 7. Seemed reasonable.
And then the delays....
It always seemed to be about 30 to 40 minutes at a time so we couldn't actually leave. So we chatted amongst ourselves or read or got rip roaring plastered. Ok, maybe not that last part. Though in hindsight, we should have.
This went on......and on.....and on. A couple of flights came and went. Indeed, I don't think any of us had heard of any that were canceled that day, until later. After several more delays, they finally decided to cancel the flight.
Fuck you! Just......fuck you.
No, not the folk at the counter or the pilots or the baggage handlers. Well, the latter, not in this instance. I'm sure we've all had moments where they earned such vitriol. But not today. Yeah, yeah, runway conditions unsafe. No need to endanger life. Survival of the species at stake. I get it.
I suppose the reason I was particularly enervated were the ramifications of this decision. You see, the next flight out to Yellowknife was Wednesday evening. And the conference ended Thursday. This all happened on a Monday, in case you cared. Thus, the trip was scrapped as it didn't make sense to send us all over for a single day. Yeah, I understand the sense in that too, stop giving me that look. No, not that one, the other one.
So we all parted from the airport in a foul mood. Alia in particular as she had not been out of town in some months. If you lived here, you'd understand. It's good for your sanity to get out now and then. For some, it's so they can go on mega shopping excursions. For me, it's so I can get good beer, on tap, for cheap.
Priorities man!
Anyway, long story short, it sucked. Life goes on.
On the plus side......
This wine is delicious!
Leeches!
You know what. Flying sucks. Why? Well, if you have to ask, go away.
A couple of weeks back (yeah, I should have posted sooner) I was scheduled to head on over to Yellowknife for a conference. I was looking forward to it. Not only that, but I had the opportunity to see some old friends who have left Iqaluit in their rear view mirror. Very sad. The fact that they left, not the fact that I would see them. The hell is wrong with you?
And so, around noonish, day of departure, the weather takes a direct route to "Fuck you airplane" territory. Much of the talk centered around whether flights would make it in and out. Well, the wind and snow didn't seem to be putting a damper on flights. They were coming and going as usual, though a little delayed here and there.
There was hope!
Myself and the other conference goers arrived at the airport close to 5 or 6 as our flight was slated to head out close to 7. Seemed reasonable.
And then the delays....
It always seemed to be about 30 to 40 minutes at a time so we couldn't actually leave. So we chatted amongst ourselves or read or got rip roaring plastered. Ok, maybe not that last part. Though in hindsight, we should have.
This went on......and on.....and on. A couple of flights came and went. Indeed, I don't think any of us had heard of any that were canceled that day, until later. After several more delays, they finally decided to cancel the flight.
Fuck you! Just......fuck you.
No, not the folk at the counter or the pilots or the baggage handlers. Well, the latter, not in this instance. I'm sure we've all had moments where they earned such vitriol. But not today. Yeah, yeah, runway conditions unsafe. No need to endanger life. Survival of the species at stake. I get it.
I suppose the reason I was particularly enervated were the ramifications of this decision. You see, the next flight out to Yellowknife was Wednesday evening. And the conference ended Thursday. This all happened on a Monday, in case you cared. Thus, the trip was scrapped as it didn't make sense to send us all over for a single day. Yeah, I understand the sense in that too, stop giving me that look. No, not that one, the other one.
So we all parted from the airport in a foul mood. Alia in particular as she had not been out of town in some months. If you lived here, you'd understand. It's good for your sanity to get out now and then. For some, it's so they can go on mega shopping excursions. For me, it's so I can get good beer, on tap, for cheap.
Priorities man!
Anyway, long story short, it sucked. Life goes on.
On the plus side......
This wine is delicious!
Leeches!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Self Aware Blog
Sickened by the fact that....
So I've been playing a lot of LA Noire lately. The truth being that I find it to be a pretty enjoyable and entertaining game. A nice, pretty well thought out story mixes with some pretty good gameplay.
You play a 1940's era detective doing your detective thing. I could delve into the whole game ad nauseum, however, this is not a game review blog. Truth is, I don't know what kind of blog this is. Most likely that these are the lunatic ramblings of someone who simply felt inclined to share them.
Details.
Where was I? Right! Filling you in on the game in the blog that we can reasonably assume is not a game review blog. If you want that, go read some Zero Punctuation or Penny Arcade. They're better at this than me.
Anyway....
The reason I started down this line of thought in the first place is a certain aspect of the game. Namely, the questioning of witnesses, suspects et al.
The folks at Rockstar and Team Bondi (and whoever else were involved) have done a fine job of the whole facial motion capture thing. Though admittedly, some of the looks people give when they're lying are positively hilarious. I think I'd love to sit around the poker table some time with them. I think I may be getting ahead of myself a little. Whenever you question someone, you pose your query, as one does and the individual provides an answer (go figure!). It is then your job to discern whether they are telling the truth, if you doubt their answer or if they are lying. The latter having the additional fun of you having to present evidence to back up your claim.
Still following? Good!
One thing I've noticed is that people in 1940's Los Angeles seem to be incapable of telling the truth. Now, you'd expect that when you're questioning a suspect. But it comes from people who have absolutely no reason to lie. It's as though everyone wants to send you down the wrong path for shits and giggles.
"Hey! 6 people have been murdered but I'm gonna deliberately mislead this cop for no apparent reason."
Ok. Ok. Fine. Yeah, some people have some things to hide for whatever reason and blah, blah, blah, it might not have anything to do with my case but they're distrustful of cops and don't wanna wind up in jail for being a Communist. Oh yeah! There's some of that in there too! There's also some drivers who think it's perfectly acceptable to cut off an oncoming police car, sirens blaring. Well, who am I to argue? I don't have a drivers license. Maybe that's what you're supposed to do.
All this is a roundabout way of telling you that you should go buy the game. To borrow a line from Ben Croshaw, it's a refreshing departure from a world of games who's main goal appears to be genocide. Admittedly, there is some gunplay. Though it is decidedly not a main focus. That award goes to your sleuth skills.....and the piano music that helps you along.
I'm pretty sure real life cops and detectives would be ecstatic if every time they approached a clue, a little chime sounded or if a little diddy played once they'd collected everything relevant from a scene.
Ya know, for a game I enjoy, I seem to be complaining a lot about it.
Whatever. It's a good game. Go play it and leave me alone.
....immortality is not mine to have.
So I've been playing a lot of LA Noire lately. The truth being that I find it to be a pretty enjoyable and entertaining game. A nice, pretty well thought out story mixes with some pretty good gameplay.
You play a 1940's era detective doing your detective thing. I could delve into the whole game ad nauseum, however, this is not a game review blog. Truth is, I don't know what kind of blog this is. Most likely that these are the lunatic ramblings of someone who simply felt inclined to share them.
Details.
Where was I? Right! Filling you in on the game in the blog that we can reasonably assume is not a game review blog. If you want that, go read some Zero Punctuation or Penny Arcade. They're better at this than me.
Anyway....
The reason I started down this line of thought in the first place is a certain aspect of the game. Namely, the questioning of witnesses, suspects et al.
The folks at Rockstar and Team Bondi (and whoever else were involved) have done a fine job of the whole facial motion capture thing. Though admittedly, some of the looks people give when they're lying are positively hilarious. I think I'd love to sit around the poker table some time with them. I think I may be getting ahead of myself a little. Whenever you question someone, you pose your query, as one does and the individual provides an answer (go figure!). It is then your job to discern whether they are telling the truth, if you doubt their answer or if they are lying. The latter having the additional fun of you having to present evidence to back up your claim.
Still following? Good!
One thing I've noticed is that people in 1940's Los Angeles seem to be incapable of telling the truth. Now, you'd expect that when you're questioning a suspect. But it comes from people who have absolutely no reason to lie. It's as though everyone wants to send you down the wrong path for shits and giggles.
"Hey! 6 people have been murdered but I'm gonna deliberately mislead this cop for no apparent reason."
Ok. Ok. Fine. Yeah, some people have some things to hide for whatever reason and blah, blah, blah, it might not have anything to do with my case but they're distrustful of cops and don't wanna wind up in jail for being a Communist. Oh yeah! There's some of that in there too! There's also some drivers who think it's perfectly acceptable to cut off an oncoming police car, sirens blaring. Well, who am I to argue? I don't have a drivers license. Maybe that's what you're supposed to do.
All this is a roundabout way of telling you that you should go buy the game. To borrow a line from Ben Croshaw, it's a refreshing departure from a world of games who's main goal appears to be genocide. Admittedly, there is some gunplay. Though it is decidedly not a main focus. That award goes to your sleuth skills.....and the piano music that helps you along.
I'm pretty sure real life cops and detectives would be ecstatic if every time they approached a clue, a little chime sounded or if a little diddy played once they'd collected everything relevant from a scene.
Ya know, for a game I enjoy, I seem to be complaining a lot about it.
Whatever. It's a good game. Go play it and leave me alone.
....immortality is not mine to have.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
I Stole You Fake Onion
Let's make history.....
Well, it's been a while. A long while. But on the plus side.......yeah, I got nothing.
I had intended to write after returning from the wedding in August. Though my discipline seems to have let me down. I blame you. Yeah, that's right. This is entirely your fault and I expect a card in the mail apologizing for it. Maybe a fruit basket. A lap dance if you're feeling particularly frisky.
First off, a big congratulations to Shawn and Dee. The wedding, all of it in its entirety, was simply awesome. Fun, is the best word to describe it. I'm sure Shawn and Dee might have a few added words to go with my assessment. They having the stress of setting up such an event to deal with. But for folk like me who had nothing more complex than showing up to do, it was pretty sweet.
Ok, so that's not entirely true. Being the best man (seriously!) I did have a couple of duties. One being getting the groom completely sloshed before the wedding. We succeeded in doing this twice, in fact. It's likely that it was the first time that the Republic of Newfoundland was given tribute in the form of a duct tape bra. Yes, I see that look you're giving me. I assure you, it was not my idea. Nor was the blow up sheep. Or the crown and scepter. Though I may have had a hand in the cape.
Stop judging!
On a side note, I find myself cursing the fact that I've waited so long to write on this subject. My old age has resulted in many of the details being lost from that demented mind o'mine. Perhaps the alcohol played a part.
Fiddlesticks.
So anyway, I says to Mable, I says.....
Sadly, one of the major drawbacks of living in these parts is coming to the fore once more. We're saying goodbye to a couple of dear friends who are moving on to greener pastures. Well.....green might be optimistic. More likely, whiter pastures as they will not be leaving the arctic climate behind.
You will be missed and I.....we, look forward to our paths crossing down the line once more.
Bring scotch.
....let's make history stop.
Well, it's been a while. A long while. But on the plus side.......yeah, I got nothing.
I had intended to write after returning from the wedding in August. Though my discipline seems to have let me down. I blame you. Yeah, that's right. This is entirely your fault and I expect a card in the mail apologizing for it. Maybe a fruit basket. A lap dance if you're feeling particularly frisky.
First off, a big congratulations to Shawn and Dee. The wedding, all of it in its entirety, was simply awesome. Fun, is the best word to describe it. I'm sure Shawn and Dee might have a few added words to go with my assessment. They having the stress of setting up such an event to deal with. But for folk like me who had nothing more complex than showing up to do, it was pretty sweet.
Ok, so that's not entirely true. Being the best man (seriously!) I did have a couple of duties. One being getting the groom completely sloshed before the wedding. We succeeded in doing this twice, in fact. It's likely that it was the first time that the Republic of Newfoundland was given tribute in the form of a duct tape bra. Yes, I see that look you're giving me. I assure you, it was not my idea. Nor was the blow up sheep. Or the crown and scepter. Though I may have had a hand in the cape.
Stop judging!
On a side note, I find myself cursing the fact that I've waited so long to write on this subject. My old age has resulted in many of the details being lost from that demented mind o'mine. Perhaps the alcohol played a part.
Fiddlesticks.
So anyway, I says to Mable, I says.....
Sadly, one of the major drawbacks of living in these parts is coming to the fore once more. We're saying goodbye to a couple of dear friends who are moving on to greener pastures. Well.....green might be optimistic. More likely, whiter pastures as they will not be leaving the arctic climate behind.
You will be missed and I.....we, look forward to our paths crossing down the line once more.
Bring scotch.
....let's make history stop.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Musings You Weren't Expecting
I will walk the night
I will bear witness
The drab and dreary players
Their drab and dreary play
I will gaze upon the stage
I will long for a better performance
I will hope
I will gaze upon the stars
On this cool September night
Basking in their glow
Admiring their near perpetual shine
I know I'll never live to see
The play I long for on this stage
And so I will walk the night
Until the early morning light
I will bear witness
The drab and dreary players
Their drab and dreary play
I will gaze upon the stage
I will long for a better performance
I will hope
I will gaze upon the stars
On this cool September night
Basking in their glow
Admiring their near perpetual shine
I know I'll never live to see
The play I long for on this stage
And so I will walk the night
Until the early morning light
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Why Are Your Eyebrows Down?
Writer's block my ass!
It seemed that there was a major dearth of interesting things for me to write about. Or, to put it another way; interesting things that I failed to write about.
Let's see what we can do to remedy that, shall we....
As many of you know, I've changed my employ. And believe me, it is a little slice of deep fried awesome, as my dear friend The Help would say. More than that, I moved. I went and got my own little hovel. Thus far, I have rather enjoyed the solitary living. Though it is not without it's own cruel irony.You see, I moved downtown so that I would be within a hop, skip and a jump of all and sundry. And for the first.....week, it was marvelous.
And then disaster.
Attempting to turn a double into a triple (my apologies for those of you not in the know) I slid into third base safely. Having just driven in a pair of runs, I should have been wearing a sizable grin. Oh no. Not I. For you see, as I slid into third, my ankle became lodged between my large frame and the base. I was informed later that there was an audible pop heard from the dugout down the first base line.
And so my ankle is sprained in three different places. At least, that's the latest theory. Though it seems to be the correct one as after more than 2 weeks I am finally(!) able to hobble around at a pace that snails would mock.
The time on crutches has sucked. One fall (that hurt!) and a couple of close calls have made it a bit of an adventure. My friends and coworkers have been nothing short of amazing. Driving me to and from work as well as aiding me in any errands I had to run. One individual even went so far as to, without request, do my dishes. There was little I could have done to stop her. She'd have likely just pushed me over. Probably taken my wallet as punishment for questioning her will.
So thank you. All of you, who have made this unfortunate experience a little more tolerable. As I likely still have a lengthy recovery ahead, I may need a little more help. No more dishes though. I can manage those on my own.
Much to my lament, it seems my days on the field are numbered for this season. Though, it is a pleasure watching my team mates kick a little ass here and there. A 20-11 win today ran our record to 5-1. Go Sun Dogs!
So, for all unfortunate business that goes along with busting one's ankle, there is one perk that I am looking forward to more than even that day back in school when the janitor would toss all the balls back off the roof.
I am gonna get me one bad ass cane!
It seemed that there was a major dearth of interesting things for me to write about. Or, to put it another way; interesting things that I failed to write about.
Let's see what we can do to remedy that, shall we....
As many of you know, I've changed my employ. And believe me, it is a little slice of deep fried awesome, as my dear friend The Help would say. More than that, I moved. I went and got my own little hovel. Thus far, I have rather enjoyed the solitary living. Though it is not without it's own cruel irony.You see, I moved downtown so that I would be within a hop, skip and a jump of all and sundry. And for the first.....week, it was marvelous.
And then disaster.
Attempting to turn a double into a triple (my apologies for those of you not in the know) I slid into third base safely. Having just driven in a pair of runs, I should have been wearing a sizable grin. Oh no. Not I. For you see, as I slid into third, my ankle became lodged between my large frame and the base. I was informed later that there was an audible pop heard from the dugout down the first base line.
And so my ankle is sprained in three different places. At least, that's the latest theory. Though it seems to be the correct one as after more than 2 weeks I am finally(!) able to hobble around at a pace that snails would mock.
The time on crutches has sucked. One fall (that hurt!) and a couple of close calls have made it a bit of an adventure. My friends and coworkers have been nothing short of amazing. Driving me to and from work as well as aiding me in any errands I had to run. One individual even went so far as to, without request, do my dishes. There was little I could have done to stop her. She'd have likely just pushed me over. Probably taken my wallet as punishment for questioning her will.
So thank you. All of you, who have made this unfortunate experience a little more tolerable. As I likely still have a lengthy recovery ahead, I may need a little more help. No more dishes though. I can manage those on my own.
Much to my lament, it seems my days on the field are numbered for this season. Though, it is a pleasure watching my team mates kick a little ass here and there. A 20-11 win today ran our record to 5-1. Go Sun Dogs!
So, for all unfortunate business that goes along with busting one's ankle, there is one perk that I am looking forward to more than even that day back in school when the janitor would toss all the balls back off the roof.
I am gonna get me one bad ass cane!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Your Dancing Sounds Wrong
There's something acutely upsetting about writers block. Particularly in this instance as the timing of it really couldn't be worse. Okay, maybe it could. Maybe in some demented scenario my writing would be all that could save humanity from extinction.......and then nothing came. No idea. No squiggle on the paper.
Fiddlesticks.
Though I suppose in reality, that's really a matter of perspective. Personally, I could live with the end of humanity as it would mean the end of popped collars and Nickleback. I call that a good trade.
But anyway, back to the point.
Some time ago, a few months perhaps, I became a contributing writer at Suite101.com. For those of you unfamiliar, you should go check it out. From what I can tell, it's a pretty good collection of people with well thought out, well written articles............and me. I may have touched on this in a previous post but I was having a bit of a struggle coming up with ideas for articles. Scratch that, original ideas. Something new. You run a search on the good ol' interweb and I can pretty much guarantee that you'll find it. And then about 400 porn sites related to it. Shudder to think what kind of depraved shenanigans are being carried out on koalas.
Eventually, I settled on writing about my experiences in the north. Kind of a memoir/information guide for those who were looking for something not in the brochure with the smiling faces. Certainly my experiences are by no means the rule of thumb, but I have been kicking about the cold north for some time. I felt that maybe I could simply offer a different viewpoint. And, as an added bonus, I'd have the opportunity to practice a passion of mine. Writing. More specifically, writing without swearing.
That reminds me.....fuck.
Sadly, ever since my first article was published, I've been drawing a big blank. What's that you say? "But you're writing, not drawing." Yeah, thanks for that.
Some of it, probably a lot of it was due to a downward swing in life. It happens. Such is life. What can ya do? Just pick yourself off the ground and keep on walking. You'll be happy to know that it's a good bounce being enjoyed at present. A little more on that later.
So now I'm looking to get back on the saddle. Which is where I'm looking to you a little. I'm wondering if maybe I should be writing about something else over at Suite101. I'm certainly not confined to any one string of topics. So what is it you would like me write about? First one to say Nickleback gets a pineapple hurled at them.
And so, a little about the good bounce.
I believe a post or two ago I informed you that I'd gotten a new job. A new challenge (score!). A nice bump in pay (double score!). But most importantly......no....wait.....yeah that covers it. Well, today was my first day on the new job. Went much the same as other first days have gone in the past. Some training. The showing of what goes where when and what for. Just as it will for the next little while. Truthfully, I kinda hate this part. I love learning a new skill, but I'd be much happier already knowing what needs doing and how to accomplish it so I could plunge in to the deep end and giv'er.
Ah well. In time I'll get it figured out. Unless.....I wonder what would happen if I consumed the brain of the guy training me......
Brrrrrraaaaaiiiiiiiinnnnnnnssssssss!
Fiddlesticks.
Though I suppose in reality, that's really a matter of perspective. Personally, I could live with the end of humanity as it would mean the end of popped collars and Nickleback. I call that a good trade.
But anyway, back to the point.
Some time ago, a few months perhaps, I became a contributing writer at Suite101.com. For those of you unfamiliar, you should go check it out. From what I can tell, it's a pretty good collection of people with well thought out, well written articles............and me. I may have touched on this in a previous post but I was having a bit of a struggle coming up with ideas for articles. Scratch that, original ideas. Something new. You run a search on the good ol' interweb and I can pretty much guarantee that you'll find it. And then about 400 porn sites related to it. Shudder to think what kind of depraved shenanigans are being carried out on koalas.
Eventually, I settled on writing about my experiences in the north. Kind of a memoir/information guide for those who were looking for something not in the brochure with the smiling faces. Certainly my experiences are by no means the rule of thumb, but I have been kicking about the cold north for some time. I felt that maybe I could simply offer a different viewpoint. And, as an added bonus, I'd have the opportunity to practice a passion of mine. Writing. More specifically, writing without swearing.
That reminds me.....fuck.
Sadly, ever since my first article was published, I've been drawing a big blank. What's that you say? "But you're writing, not drawing." Yeah, thanks for that.
Some of it, probably a lot of it was due to a downward swing in life. It happens. Such is life. What can ya do? Just pick yourself off the ground and keep on walking. You'll be happy to know that it's a good bounce being enjoyed at present. A little more on that later.
So now I'm looking to get back on the saddle. Which is where I'm looking to you a little. I'm wondering if maybe I should be writing about something else over at Suite101. I'm certainly not confined to any one string of topics. So what is it you would like me write about? First one to say Nickleback gets a pineapple hurled at them.
And so, a little about the good bounce.
I believe a post or two ago I informed you that I'd gotten a new job. A new challenge (score!). A nice bump in pay (double score!). But most importantly......no....wait.....yeah that covers it. Well, today was my first day on the new job. Went much the same as other first days have gone in the past. Some training. The showing of what goes where when and what for. Just as it will for the next little while. Truthfully, I kinda hate this part. I love learning a new skill, but I'd be much happier already knowing what needs doing and how to accomplish it so I could plunge in to the deep end and giv'er.
Ah well. In time I'll get it figured out. Unless.....I wonder what would happen if I consumed the brain of the guy training me......
Brrrrrraaaaaiiiiiiiinnnnnnnssssssss!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Life Through A Different Perspective
Did you miss me?
No?
That kind of hurts my feelings, to be perfectly honest. If I wasn't already sitting here, beer in hand, I might have been inclined to get a drink. As it is, I planned ahead for your treachery.
Yes, it's been a while. A long while. Hasn't been easy to write as what usually came out was something akin to pure unmitigated hostility. But we all have those moments and periods. S'all a matter of plowing through.
Getting a new job helps!
That's right kids. After much too long, I finally decided to make some career progress. And wouldn't ya know it? I was apparently the most qualified candidate!
The fortune cookie was right.....
So come June 1st, a not so insignificant bump in pay and challenge await. Very exciting. Calls for a toast. Screw the toast. Calls for a sociable!
I must admit, some of my readers actually got angry with me for going so long without posting. So....I must have been doing something right. Or very, very wrong. Sorry folks. I'll do my utmost not to let it happen again.
Have I made that promise before?
Details.....
I'll be moving into my own digs come July. I know, deja vu. But it's really happening this time. Honest. I've even already started outfitting my kitchen with whatever I may not already possess. So yeah, it's pretty serious. My prized acquisition thus far being my Global chef knife. Gorgeous piece of cutting technology. Make that tomato your bitch!
In other news......yeah, I got nothing.
*starts dancing*
No?
That kind of hurts my feelings, to be perfectly honest. If I wasn't already sitting here, beer in hand, I might have been inclined to get a drink. As it is, I planned ahead for your treachery.
Yes, it's been a while. A long while. Hasn't been easy to write as what usually came out was something akin to pure unmitigated hostility. But we all have those moments and periods. S'all a matter of plowing through.
Getting a new job helps!
That's right kids. After much too long, I finally decided to make some career progress. And wouldn't ya know it? I was apparently the most qualified candidate!
The fortune cookie was right.....
So come June 1st, a not so insignificant bump in pay and challenge await. Very exciting. Calls for a toast. Screw the toast. Calls for a sociable!
I must admit, some of my readers actually got angry with me for going so long without posting. So....I must have been doing something right. Or very, very wrong. Sorry folks. I'll do my utmost not to let it happen again.
Have I made that promise before?
Details.....
I'll be moving into my own digs come July. I know, deja vu. But it's really happening this time. Honest. I've even already started outfitting my kitchen with whatever I may not already possess. So yeah, it's pretty serious. My prized acquisition thus far being my Global chef knife. Gorgeous piece of cutting technology. Make that tomato your bitch!
In other news......yeah, I got nothing.
*starts dancing*
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Get The Pliers Part 2
The fact remains that I fear for the collective soul of the human species. The evil we inflict on one another is heartbreaking and deeply upsetting. Selfishness and greed seem to often win out over compassion and a desire to aid those in need.
The world, in more ways than I care to describe, is a dark and ugly place. It leaks malice from almost every pore.
With that said.....
And so it is the day after the dentist had a grand old time digging around my mouth. Truthfully, it was not all that bad. Well, as good as can be expected really. The only pain I felt during the procedure was the administering of anesthesia. Beyond that? Pushing and pulling. Though you wouldn't know that from some of the unholy sounds that were made. I'll spare you further details.
I feel I should procure something nice for the dentist and his assistant for making the whole thing as easy going as possible. When I inquired as to whether it'd be cool if I listened to some tunes on my headphones throughout, he encouraged me to do so.
Dream Theater is the new soundtrack to dental surgery.
For those of you wondering, the recovery goes well and I should be back to chewing on babies in no time at all. I'm thinking a prime rib roast ought to be the first item on the menu.
Until then, I thank my roomie, the awesome sauce gal that she is, for procuring for me a healthy supply of goods not requiring use of my teeth. And to my dear friend who showed up today with a gift basket of puddings, jello and the like, thank you. You, like so many others I've come to know round these parts, rock.
And then there are the events and people who remind me why I have a healthy hatred for people in general.
To the individual who deemed it acceptable to hurl a large, full bag of garbage at the vehicle being driven by a pregnant mother and friend of mine.....
You are a failure. Not simply as a human being. A failure. A misconstruction of atoms. The epitome and blatant representation of dishonor. You are rotten to the very core of your being. I can only have faith that karma will act quickly and skull fuck you into oblivion, you miserable piece of shit.
Deep breath.
On the plus side, these painkillers are awesome!
......the fact remains.....
I am hopeful.
The world, in more ways than I care to describe, is a dark and ugly place. It leaks malice from almost every pore.
With that said.....
And so it is the day after the dentist had a grand old time digging around my mouth. Truthfully, it was not all that bad. Well, as good as can be expected really. The only pain I felt during the procedure was the administering of anesthesia. Beyond that? Pushing and pulling. Though you wouldn't know that from some of the unholy sounds that were made. I'll spare you further details.
I feel I should procure something nice for the dentist and his assistant for making the whole thing as easy going as possible. When I inquired as to whether it'd be cool if I listened to some tunes on my headphones throughout, he encouraged me to do so.
Dream Theater is the new soundtrack to dental surgery.
For those of you wondering, the recovery goes well and I should be back to chewing on babies in no time at all. I'm thinking a prime rib roast ought to be the first item on the menu.
Until then, I thank my roomie, the awesome sauce gal that she is, for procuring for me a healthy supply of goods not requiring use of my teeth. And to my dear friend who showed up today with a gift basket of puddings, jello and the like, thank you. You, like so many others I've come to know round these parts, rock.
And then there are the events and people who remind me why I have a healthy hatred for people in general.
To the individual who deemed it acceptable to hurl a large, full bag of garbage at the vehicle being driven by a pregnant mother and friend of mine.....
You are a failure. Not simply as a human being. A failure. A misconstruction of atoms. The epitome and blatant representation of dishonor. You are rotten to the very core of your being. I can only have faith that karma will act quickly and skull fuck you into oblivion, you miserable piece of shit.
Deep breath.
On the plus side, these painkillers are awesome!
......the fact remains.....
I am hopeful.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Get The Pliers
I'll never feel so alive.....
Medicated and in a fair bit of pain. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun. Though I've heard it said that too much of a good thing can ruin it. Unless it's scotch we're talking about. In that case, I highly recommend increasing the dose.
Why do I find myself in this condition?
Well, my wisdom teeth have decided to do what wisdom teeth do. That is to say, cause misery. Fortunately (or unfortunately, it depends) they come out on Saturday. All of 'em. I'll be awake for the procedure. When I mention that last part, folk get this pained expression and usually utter something to the effect of "that's sucks" or "you're crazy".
I am crazy! That's nothing new.
This procedure needs doing. I'm gonna do it and deal with the aftermath while slurping my liquefied food out of a cup.
Speaking of food, the lead up to this was a little humorous.
Over the last few years, the aforementioned teeth have caused minor grief here and there that usually subsided within a few days. No big deal. This time, it felt different. However, me being the obstinate fool that I am resulted in a visit to the dentist being put off.
Yes, I know, I know, shut up and let me finish.
So there I was, sitting down to a fine bowl of caribou stew. As I endeavored to enjoy the meal, I was met with a smidgen of agony every time I chewed. Cue the defeated look.....
"That's it.......don't FUCK with my ability to enjoy food!"
Needless to say, I had an appointment within 25 minutes of this experience.
I've gotta be honest, the idea of looking like a chipmunk for a few days has some interesting merits. Think of how many small children I can freak out!
I'm simply hoping that a good single malt works well as a supplemental pain killer. Either that or I'd like to have someone on stand by with a mallet to knock my ass out every time I show even the slightest inkling towards waking up.
You want a job?
....as I do when your world falls apart!
Medicated and in a fair bit of pain. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun. Though I've heard it said that too much of a good thing can ruin it. Unless it's scotch we're talking about. In that case, I highly recommend increasing the dose.
Why do I find myself in this condition?
Well, my wisdom teeth have decided to do what wisdom teeth do. That is to say, cause misery. Fortunately (or unfortunately, it depends) they come out on Saturday. All of 'em. I'll be awake for the procedure. When I mention that last part, folk get this pained expression and usually utter something to the effect of "that's sucks" or "you're crazy".
I am crazy! That's nothing new.
This procedure needs doing. I'm gonna do it and deal with the aftermath while slurping my liquefied food out of a cup.
Speaking of food, the lead up to this was a little humorous.
Over the last few years, the aforementioned teeth have caused minor grief here and there that usually subsided within a few days. No big deal. This time, it felt different. However, me being the obstinate fool that I am resulted in a visit to the dentist being put off.
Yes, I know, I know, shut up and let me finish.
So there I was, sitting down to a fine bowl of caribou stew. As I endeavored to enjoy the meal, I was met with a smidgen of agony every time I chewed. Cue the defeated look.....
"That's it.......don't FUCK with my ability to enjoy food!"
Needless to say, I had an appointment within 25 minutes of this experience.
I've gotta be honest, the idea of looking like a chipmunk for a few days has some interesting merits. Think of how many small children I can freak out!
I'm simply hoping that a good single malt works well as a supplemental pain killer. Either that or I'd like to have someone on stand by with a mallet to knock my ass out every time I show even the slightest inkling towards waking up.
You want a job?
....as I do when your world falls apart!
Friday, February 25, 2011
Boxes Are Good
It speaks volumes that after an extended absence from this space, my readers have taken to sending me messages wondering where the fuck I am. So far as I know, I'm still occupying the same square I've always been. That's good for a number of different reasons. Namely, there's no attacks of opportunity from any extra-dimensional beings keen on devouring my organs and staging a macabre puppet theater with my flesh.
Too visual? It's cool, you can tell me.
The fact is, being a self proclaimed miserable hate fuck, there are times when writing to please the masses simply isn't going to happen. And, more distressing, there are times when writing doesn't please me. As a reader, I hope you come to understand these facts and learn to live with them.
Geeking out alert!
I've been occupying some of my time lately playing Dead Space the first. Yes, I know the game's a few years old. Don't mistake me for someone who cares about this fact or rushes out to get the latest and greatest at earliest opportunity. As an aside, I always chuckle, and perhaps shake my head a little, at those among us who see it as perfectly acceptable and sensible to wait x amount of hours outside store y for device or object z. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you!? Personally, I'm content to give it months or even years before I procure said alleged holy grail. The reasons are two-fold. A) Often times these chalices have issues. Perhaps (hopefully) nothing as serious as from the Indiana Jones movie wherein the aging happens and the skin melts off, but issues nonetheless. I'm content to wait for these to be ironed out before I hand my ill gotten coin over. B) I have better things to do than stand in a line and pay top dollar for the issue ridden object, all the while trying my best to not get stabbed by someone who wants it a little too badly. Makes sense? Thought so. That said, if I've offended anyone who has stabbed someone for that latest and greatest, I hope you'll grant me mercy and spare me the same fate.
Where was I?
Right. Dead Space. Admittedly, a pretty good game from what I can surmise thus far. For those of you unfamiliar, it's basically a survival horror game set in space on a ship where everyone seems to be either dead or mutated and the latter seem to wanna do the aforementioned puppet theater. It is possible the former also wish to engage in such activities. However, being dead has put a fatal wrench into that plan.
Unfortunately, I can only tolerate the game for short intervals at a time. I don't find it frightening in the least. However, as I'm sure you've guessed, shit jumps out at you from everywhere. Being kept on ones toes in perpetuity requires a great deal of concentration and awareness. I play video games to unwind. You see where things are at odds?
Eventually, I will complete this game. Very eventually. Then I'll move on to Dead Space 2. Which leads me to believe the protagonist survives the first installment. Good for him! Or maybe he doesn't and it's simply someone else being thrust into the meat grinder. Whatever. The enemies are jerks. Why can't they just play nice?
I have found a new outlet for whatever demented skill I have with the written word.
http://www.suite101.com/content/-26-and-counting-life-in-the-canadian-arctic-a351957
Feel free to have a read and tell me I'm an idiot when you're done.
The biggest challenges thus far have been keeping the flavor different from what you'll find here and not using the word 'fuck' every second word. So far so good I think.....
It's also been requested of me to give a short speech at an upcoming summer wedding. Those of you who know me are a little worried at present. You can probably smell the evil thoughts already.....
Relax, it's just gas.
Too visual? It's cool, you can tell me.
The fact is, being a self proclaimed miserable hate fuck, there are times when writing to please the masses simply isn't going to happen. And, more distressing, there are times when writing doesn't please me. As a reader, I hope you come to understand these facts and learn to live with them.
Geeking out alert!
I've been occupying some of my time lately playing Dead Space the first. Yes, I know the game's a few years old. Don't mistake me for someone who cares about this fact or rushes out to get the latest and greatest at earliest opportunity. As an aside, I always chuckle, and perhaps shake my head a little, at those among us who see it as perfectly acceptable and sensible to wait x amount of hours outside store y for device or object z. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you!? Personally, I'm content to give it months or even years before I procure said alleged holy grail. The reasons are two-fold. A) Often times these chalices have issues. Perhaps (hopefully) nothing as serious as from the Indiana Jones movie wherein the aging happens and the skin melts off, but issues nonetheless. I'm content to wait for these to be ironed out before I hand my ill gotten coin over. B) I have better things to do than stand in a line and pay top dollar for the issue ridden object, all the while trying my best to not get stabbed by someone who wants it a little too badly. Makes sense? Thought so. That said, if I've offended anyone who has stabbed someone for that latest and greatest, I hope you'll grant me mercy and spare me the same fate.
Where was I?
Right. Dead Space. Admittedly, a pretty good game from what I can surmise thus far. For those of you unfamiliar, it's basically a survival horror game set in space on a ship where everyone seems to be either dead or mutated and the latter seem to wanna do the aforementioned puppet theater. It is possible the former also wish to engage in such activities. However, being dead has put a fatal wrench into that plan.
Unfortunately, I can only tolerate the game for short intervals at a time. I don't find it frightening in the least. However, as I'm sure you've guessed, shit jumps out at you from everywhere. Being kept on ones toes in perpetuity requires a great deal of concentration and awareness. I play video games to unwind. You see where things are at odds?
Eventually, I will complete this game. Very eventually. Then I'll move on to Dead Space 2. Which leads me to believe the protagonist survives the first installment. Good for him! Or maybe he doesn't and it's simply someone else being thrust into the meat grinder. Whatever. The enemies are jerks. Why can't they just play nice?
I have found a new outlet for whatever demented skill I have with the written word.
http://www.suite101.com/content/-26-and-counting-life-in-the-canadian-arctic-a351957
Feel free to have a read and tell me I'm an idiot when you're done.
The biggest challenges thus far have been keeping the flavor different from what you'll find here and not using the word 'fuck' every second word. So far so good I think.....
It's also been requested of me to give a short speech at an upcoming summer wedding. Those of you who know me are a little worried at present. You can probably smell the evil thoughts already.....
Relax, it's just gas.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The North Explained; Part 2 (And Other Randomness)
Don't worry. It's just stigmata....
I suppose part one was a little misleading. I apologize for that as I imagine it didn't tell you anything you did not already know. I'll work on the informative aspect of things in future.
So....
We in the north, that is to say Iqaluit, haven't had a decent blizzard now for a few years. Occasionally, Environment Canada would spout off some warnings and everyone would get all excited only to be sorely let down. It was the childhood equivalent of getting a turd in your stocking. You can imagine my surprise when I awoke Sunday. During my groggy waking ritual, I had heard the wind outside but hadn't thought much of it. When I finally did peer into the wider world, all I saw was white with the occasional, ever so faint outline of other homes.
Blizzard.
Wait. FUCK! It's a freaking Sunday. What's the good of a blizzard on a Sunday!? With the exception of those few who do work, not much. But this may have been a good omen. A precursor to more goodness. More blizzards and days off work. Of hot tea, board games, movies, a few drinks, a good meal. Sure, we could do these things on the weekend. Hell, we often do! It's awesome. Which is precisely why we'd want more of it.
And then.....Environment Canada called for another. Today, in fact. It was supposed to kick into gear around midnight last night and make seeing outside a challenge until some time tonight.
The air was thick with anticipation. It was the popular topic round the water cooler in (I'm guessing here, but I like my odds) pretty much every work space around town.
"Blizzard tomorrow?"
"Seems like."
"Score!"
I, like many others in town, awoke at my usual hour. I heard no wind. There's still hope, it could be hitting the other side of the house. I peeked through my blinds. Guess what I saw.....
Everything.
And thus the first weather letdown of 2011 was complete. Screw you, Mother Nature! This is cause we shit all over your planet, isn't it? If that's the case.......then I guess we do kinda deserve it.
Don't worry folks. Talk will commence again about a pending or, dare I say it, impending blizzard. Then the cycle will begin anew....
Moving on.
After a month or so of planning for a move and going through all the motions that entails, I'm staying put. Don't look at me like that!
It was kind of a demented process, and, to be perfectly honest, I'm glad it's over. Sure, it would have been cool to get a new spot to call my own. But I really like where I am. The food is yummy. The company is good. The view is pleasing to the eye. No one cares if I wear pants or not.
I won't bore you with all the details. Long story short. Did the math. Numbers didn't tabulate in favor of the move. End of story. Now hand me a drink.
Ah yes, the other reason for my absence. Twas a good workshop/meetings I had in Ottawa. A little interesting on the first day. My boss and I arrived and she led the way to where we were meeting the others. I meandered on in to discover that it was going to be me......and about a dozen women.
".......Hi."
No, it did not devolve into anything depraved. You people are smutty! They all turned out to be very nice and friendly folk who seem to be damn good at their jobs. I found the meetings to be informative and enlightening and all that good stuff. I had the fortune of seeing some friends, one of whom drove from Montreal to see me. Warms the cold obsidian heart. The food was yummy. The drinks were plenty. No one cared if I wore pants or not.
I call it a win!
On a completely unrelated matter, you can call me Shawn.
....Pass me a napkin. And don't you dare tell my mother.
I suppose part one was a little misleading. I apologize for that as I imagine it didn't tell you anything you did not already know. I'll work on the informative aspect of things in future.
So....
We in the north, that is to say Iqaluit, haven't had a decent blizzard now for a few years. Occasionally, Environment Canada would spout off some warnings and everyone would get all excited only to be sorely let down. It was the childhood equivalent of getting a turd in your stocking. You can imagine my surprise when I awoke Sunday. During my groggy waking ritual, I had heard the wind outside but hadn't thought much of it. When I finally did peer into the wider world, all I saw was white with the occasional, ever so faint outline of other homes.
Blizzard.
Wait. FUCK! It's a freaking Sunday. What's the good of a blizzard on a Sunday!? With the exception of those few who do work, not much. But this may have been a good omen. A precursor to more goodness. More blizzards and days off work. Of hot tea, board games, movies, a few drinks, a good meal. Sure, we could do these things on the weekend. Hell, we often do! It's awesome. Which is precisely why we'd want more of it.
And then.....Environment Canada called for another. Today, in fact. It was supposed to kick into gear around midnight last night and make seeing outside a challenge until some time tonight.
The air was thick with anticipation. It was the popular topic round the water cooler in (I'm guessing here, but I like my odds) pretty much every work space around town.
"Blizzard tomorrow?"
"Seems like."
"Score!"
I, like many others in town, awoke at my usual hour. I heard no wind. There's still hope, it could be hitting the other side of the house. I peeked through my blinds. Guess what I saw.....
Everything.
And thus the first weather letdown of 2011 was complete. Screw you, Mother Nature! This is cause we shit all over your planet, isn't it? If that's the case.......then I guess we do kinda deserve it.
Don't worry folks. Talk will commence again about a pending or, dare I say it, impending blizzard. Then the cycle will begin anew....
Moving on.
After a month or so of planning for a move and going through all the motions that entails, I'm staying put. Don't look at me like that!
It was kind of a demented process, and, to be perfectly honest, I'm glad it's over. Sure, it would have been cool to get a new spot to call my own. But I really like where I am. The food is yummy. The company is good. The view is pleasing to the eye. No one cares if I wear pants or not.
I won't bore you with all the details. Long story short. Did the math. Numbers didn't tabulate in favor of the move. End of story. Now hand me a drink.
Ah yes, the other reason for my absence. Twas a good workshop/meetings I had in Ottawa. A little interesting on the first day. My boss and I arrived and she led the way to where we were meeting the others. I meandered on in to discover that it was going to be me......and about a dozen women.
".......Hi."
No, it did not devolve into anything depraved. You people are smutty! They all turned out to be very nice and friendly folk who seem to be damn good at their jobs. I found the meetings to be informative and enlightening and all that good stuff. I had the fortune of seeing some friends, one of whom drove from Montreal to see me. Warms the cold obsidian heart. The food was yummy. The drinks were plenty. No one cared if I wore pants or not.
I call it a win!
On a completely unrelated matter, you can call me Shawn.
....Pass me a napkin. And don't you dare tell my mother.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Needs More Cowbell
We believe, so we're misled
We assume, so we're played
For the past year and a half-ish, I've been following a budding passion of mine. Drumming. I suppose music in general would be a more apt choice of words.
I've always loved music, for as long as I can remember. and as I get older, the joy I derive from such pleasures only seems to increase. When I was very young (much too young to appreciate it) I played piano for a year. In hindsight, I wish I'd stuck with it. On a side note, anyone willing to teach, I'm willing to learn, should the opportunity present.
I also recall in my teens, I gave guitar a go. However, I must admit, I felt no connection with the instrument. And so I gifted the pair I had to worthy recipients.
For years, I wanted to learn to drum. It was one of my goals in life. I always procrastinated, though. I suppose I felt it was something I would pursue after I left the north (8 years and counting) and thus put it to the back of my mind.
A couple of years back, there was some.....we'll call it trauma, in my life. And while not a fun time (UNDERSTATEMENT), it served to enlighten and make me realize that if there is something one wishes to do, then do it. What the hell are you waiting for?
Some time later, I purchased my kit. It's a very nice electronic kit (Roland TD....something or whatever the fuck if any of you care). I would love to have an actual kit, but, having a roommate as well as folk above, I thought it best not to be a complete asshole. It doesn't sacrifice much, I'm happy to report. Sound quality is phenomenal. It has a myriad of different types of drum kits programmed in. Can be played wearing headphones or slots into an amp (or even speakers) at the drop of a hat. Admittedly it lacks a few of the nuances of 'real' kits, but not many. I am very pleased (and slightly enamored) with it.
Now, my point. Sometimes I have those!
About a week ago, I got to put one of its perks to use and transport it to a friends place for the purposes of jamming. Save for one drunken evening while in Newfoundland this past summer, I have not had the pleasure of jamming with others. And I have never done so with my own baby. What's the aforementioned perk? With the exception of a few peripherals (throne, pedals, bass) I can carry this thing with little fuss and fit it in most vehicles.
To the good stuff.....
The jam was the epitome of goodness. We broke out some old favorites. Did some improvisation and all in all had an awesome time. They are both supremely talented musicians (and in the case of Nicole, a vocalist with talent to spare). Me? I'm a learning drummer with modest ability. I did my best to not incur their wrath and savage beatings that would have no doubt included a guitar. That shit would hurt!
I'm sincerely hoping that the next opportunity doesn't wait too long to come along. Or maybe I'll just kidnap them and force them to play at my whim.....
On a side note. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me a while. Not only do I have a work trip coming up but there's also a change of address looming and thus....I will be busy. The latter may work to your advantage as I purge crap that I no longer require. However, for some, it may also mean that your assistance and muscles (or lack thereof) may be called into service (not you Shinkicker, you're gimpy).
If I don't return, avenge my death!
We confide, so we're deceived
We trust, so we're betrayed
We assume, so we're played
For the past year and a half-ish, I've been following a budding passion of mine. Drumming. I suppose music in general would be a more apt choice of words.
I've always loved music, for as long as I can remember. and as I get older, the joy I derive from such pleasures only seems to increase. When I was very young (much too young to appreciate it) I played piano for a year. In hindsight, I wish I'd stuck with it. On a side note, anyone willing to teach, I'm willing to learn, should the opportunity present.
I also recall in my teens, I gave guitar a go. However, I must admit, I felt no connection with the instrument. And so I gifted the pair I had to worthy recipients.
For years, I wanted to learn to drum. It was one of my goals in life. I always procrastinated, though. I suppose I felt it was something I would pursue after I left the north (8 years and counting) and thus put it to the back of my mind.
A couple of years back, there was some.....we'll call it trauma, in my life. And while not a fun time (UNDERSTATEMENT), it served to enlighten and make me realize that if there is something one wishes to do, then do it. What the hell are you waiting for?
Some time later, I purchased my kit. It's a very nice electronic kit (Roland TD....something or whatever the fuck if any of you care). I would love to have an actual kit, but, having a roommate as well as folk above, I thought it best not to be a complete asshole. It doesn't sacrifice much, I'm happy to report. Sound quality is phenomenal. It has a myriad of different types of drum kits programmed in. Can be played wearing headphones or slots into an amp (or even speakers) at the drop of a hat. Admittedly it lacks a few of the nuances of 'real' kits, but not many. I am very pleased (and slightly enamored) with it.
Now, my point. Sometimes I have those!
About a week ago, I got to put one of its perks to use and transport it to a friends place for the purposes of jamming. Save for one drunken evening while in Newfoundland this past summer, I have not had the pleasure of jamming with others. And I have never done so with my own baby. What's the aforementioned perk? With the exception of a few peripherals (throne, pedals, bass) I can carry this thing with little fuss and fit it in most vehicles.
To the good stuff.....
The jam was the epitome of goodness. We broke out some old favorites. Did some improvisation and all in all had an awesome time. They are both supremely talented musicians (and in the case of Nicole, a vocalist with talent to spare). Me? I'm a learning drummer with modest ability. I did my best to not incur their wrath and savage beatings that would have no doubt included a guitar. That shit would hurt!
I'm sincerely hoping that the next opportunity doesn't wait too long to come along. Or maybe I'll just kidnap them and force them to play at my whim.....
On a side note. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me a while. Not only do I have a work trip coming up but there's also a change of address looming and thus....I will be busy. The latter may work to your advantage as I purge crap that I no longer require. However, for some, it may also mean that your assistance and muscles (or lack thereof) may be called into service (not you Shinkicker, you're gimpy).
If I don't return, avenge my death!
We confide, so we're deceived
We trust, so we're betrayed
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Come Whatever May
And so it goes, and so it goes.......
Sorry kids, I know it's been a while. Even though I'm not one for celebrating Christmas and all that jazz, it doesn't make the holiday season any less hectic for me. Also, having not seen my mother for the better part of 4 years, I felt my time was better spent elsewhere.
Hope you understand.
All in all, things have been going well....I think. I've still got all my fingers and toes, so it can't have gone that pear shaped.
It was wonderful to see my mama again (and to sample some home cooking again). I've mentioned before that the food on offer in my home is nothing short of scrumptious with a side order of drool inducing. Most of the credit for that has to go to my awesome sauce roomie whose prowess in the kitchen is a delight to behold. I've been exceedingly fortunate to have taken lessons from her and develop a few chops of my own. Suffice to say, we eat ridiculously well.
That said, there's nothing quite like home cooking.
As a child and into my teens, when my birthday came around, my mother would ask me what I wanted to have as a meal for the occasion. "I want stew" was always the reply. She would poke and prod to ascertain if there was something else I wanted. There never was. This, that or the other thing?
Nope
I want stew.
So you can guess what my first request was upon her arrival was.
So. Fucking. Delicious.
It was good to see her again. I will have to ensure that it's not another 4 years before we see each other again.
I was having a conversation with a gentleman last night concerning this blog. The subject came up and I asked for his thoughts. I'm looking to improve as a writer and he's an individual with a great deal of experience. Seemed a good resource to tap. He enjoys the writing I spew out (thank you, sir, very kind) but did make a very helpful observation. He mentioned how, thus far, these posts haven't gotten down to the meat of things I really care about.
Rubbish! I care about scotch!!
Seriously, it's a valid point. And as someone who's not inclined to share my details, it's something I will work on.
Unfortunately, this new year is starting on a bit of a sad note. Me and mine are saying goodbye to one of our number who's leaving town for good tomorrow. Many a good laugh (and one vacation) has been shared over the last few years. But it's a truth of this place and for me, having been here for 8 years now, a sad one. People come and go here with great regularity. We say goodbye to a lot of friends. Or maybe it's a simple see you later. One can hope.
That said, Mr Boyd, I wish you all the best and I will look forward to when we cross paths again.
Take care buddy.
So the new year is upon us. Folk get contemplative this time of year. Well, when they're not hammered, they do. I'm no different. A lot swirling about this head o'mine. More than usual. Examining my lot in life. Like everyone else, there's good and there's bad. And like everyone else, there's things I wish to work toward. Things I'm hoping become clearer sooner rather than later. Things I wanna try. Places I want to go. People I want to see. Booze I want to drink. Oh, here's one, I'll be back with you in a moment......
Anyway.
I look forward to seeing what the days ahead have to offer. I do know one thing in advance. The days will be made better thanks to the company I keep.
Wish me luck kids. Let's see what happens next.
.....and you're the only who knows.
Sorry kids, I know it's been a while. Even though I'm not one for celebrating Christmas and all that jazz, it doesn't make the holiday season any less hectic for me. Also, having not seen my mother for the better part of 4 years, I felt my time was better spent elsewhere.
Hope you understand.
All in all, things have been going well....I think. I've still got all my fingers and toes, so it can't have gone that pear shaped.
It was wonderful to see my mama again (and to sample some home cooking again). I've mentioned before that the food on offer in my home is nothing short of scrumptious with a side order of drool inducing. Most of the credit for that has to go to my awesome sauce roomie whose prowess in the kitchen is a delight to behold. I've been exceedingly fortunate to have taken lessons from her and develop a few chops of my own. Suffice to say, we eat ridiculously well.
That said, there's nothing quite like home cooking.
As a child and into my teens, when my birthday came around, my mother would ask me what I wanted to have as a meal for the occasion. "I want stew" was always the reply. She would poke and prod to ascertain if there was something else I wanted. There never was. This, that or the other thing?
Nope
I want stew.
So you can guess what my first request was upon her arrival was.
So. Fucking. Delicious.
It was good to see her again. I will have to ensure that it's not another 4 years before we see each other again.
I was having a conversation with a gentleman last night concerning this blog. The subject came up and I asked for his thoughts. I'm looking to improve as a writer and he's an individual with a great deal of experience. Seemed a good resource to tap. He enjoys the writing I spew out (thank you, sir, very kind) but did make a very helpful observation. He mentioned how, thus far, these posts haven't gotten down to the meat of things I really care about.
Rubbish! I care about scotch!!
Seriously, it's a valid point. And as someone who's not inclined to share my details, it's something I will work on.
Unfortunately, this new year is starting on a bit of a sad note. Me and mine are saying goodbye to one of our number who's leaving town for good tomorrow. Many a good laugh (and one vacation) has been shared over the last few years. But it's a truth of this place and for me, having been here for 8 years now, a sad one. People come and go here with great regularity. We say goodbye to a lot of friends. Or maybe it's a simple see you later. One can hope.
That said, Mr Boyd, I wish you all the best and I will look forward to when we cross paths again.
Take care buddy.
So the new year is upon us. Folk get contemplative this time of year. Well, when they're not hammered, they do. I'm no different. A lot swirling about this head o'mine. More than usual. Examining my lot in life. Like everyone else, there's good and there's bad. And like everyone else, there's things I wish to work toward. Things I'm hoping become clearer sooner rather than later. Things I wanna try. Places I want to go. People I want to see. Booze I want to drink. Oh, here's one, I'll be back with you in a moment......
Anyway.
I look forward to seeing what the days ahead have to offer. I do know one thing in advance. The days will be made better thanks to the company I keep.
Wish me luck kids. Let's see what happens next.
.....and you're the only who knows.
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