Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Fort of Feathers

So the boys, on their first day of summer, are enjoying a morning of quiet chaos.

Zed just came up to inform me that they've built a diving fort in the basement. "It's really cool. We put all the pillows on the floor and we're diving on them.

"Can we keep playing?" asks Zed.

I can imagine that it includes one of them being *in* the fort as the other one dives on top. Which of course could lead to bruises, nose bleeds, broken bones and all sorts of other fun stuff.

But I remember my brother and I building forts out of cushions, having pillow fights as we were bouncing up-and-down on our parents' bed like a trampoline, and (in a display of incredible stupidity and showing how completely oblivious we were to physical harm) having pencil crayons wars -- which consisted of hiding behind furniture and throwing pencil crayons at one another, the goal being to to hit the other person, because, y'know, we were geniuses.

"Go ahead," I told Zed. "Just make sure you clean up afterwards. And be careful!"

Running back downstairs, he called out, "We will!"

Yes, my brother and I used to throw pencil crayons at each other for fun. My boys could say they're building forts out of kitchen plates or trying to trap raccoons using rancid hamburger and it would still be less dangerous than what I did when I was a kid.

"Have a good time! Don't be as stupid as I was!" should be the rallying cry for all parents.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Last Day at School

It's funny: both of the boys found the last day of school less emotional than I did.

And because they're both heading to a new school next year, I thought there would be some sadness, tension or tears.

Nope. School's out. "It's the summer!" And they ain't looking back.

As for me, I found myself getting choked up talking to their teachers.

I spoke to Zed's current teacher, Mrs. Chapman, who taught both of the boys (she also taught Gee three years earlier) and she told me that she was sad because she would have had Zed again next year because she was going to be teaching a different grade. But she was very kind and said that the new school was going to be getting two great students.

And I also spoke to the boys' former kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Reiart. She also taught both of the boys but she had them for both Junior *and* Senior kindergarten. She therefore had them for four years in total. I was incredibly pleased that I had the opportunity to thank her for helping make the boys into excellent students. I told her that they're both doing exceptionally well in school and a large part of that is because of her teaching. She was kind enough to say that it was very likely that my wife and I also had a hand in the matter; true as that may be, for the first two years of their schooling, she was the person who showed them how to behave, interact and learn in a classroom. They learned and grew because of her.

In many ways teachers in our province have a great gig (summer holidays, a guaranteed job assuming they don't totally mess up, solid pension, etc.) but it's an incredible responsibility and a bad teacher is a horrible, dreadful, awful thing to behold. An uninspiring teacher can poison the well, salt the earth and rain on the parade that is a child's educational future.

But a good teacher -- worth their weight in friggin' gold.

Both of my boys have been oh so incredibly fortunate because many of their teachers had been blessed with a Midas touch.

Here's hoping their new school also has great teachers. And that the boys will continue to enjoy education, even as they're thrilled when they can leave it behind.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Shopping at the Deity-tessen

At one point the main character in the book I'm reading ("The Suspect" by Michael Robotham) asks the question "What sort of God would you like -- a vengeful God or a forgiving one?"

The book is about a British psychologist who gets pulled into a murder investigation, and he asks that question to one of his patients.


And it made me wonder: do we get to choose what type of god we get? -- Isn't S/He passed down on a generational level until we decide to take our shopping cart to another section in the Deity-tessen?

As a teenager I read a lot of Robert E. Howard's stories and I remember thinking that his description of one of the gods was perfect: He gives us life. What more can one ask of a god?

(Or, according to the internet, "But he gave a man courage at birth, and the will and might to kill his enemies, which, in the Cimmerian's mind, was all any god should be expected to do." --> obviously Conan's god, over the years and in my paraphrasing, editing mind, has become a bit more gentle.)


If I had a choice, I guess I'd go with a forgiving god. But I don't expect a lot from Him/Her. I am not a huge fan of the Book of Job because I don't like how God comes off as all-knowing and all-arrogant at the end of the story. Especially after God put Job through the ringer, I would think there would be a bit more respect and perhaps even an apology of some sort: "Hey, Job, sorry about the disease and the death of all your kids; I don't expect you to understand, but here's what happened..."

But if my god is forgiving and your god is vengeful, does that mean we're worshiping the same god? -- Is it possible for god to be both? Sure-sure, god is all-powerful, all-knowing, all etc, but isn't being both forgiving *and* vengeful a huge contradiction?

I guess I see my God as a gentle watchmaker: things are set in motion, and it's my job to do my best and see it through. Do unto others; Karma will be a paybacking bitch; don't trump your partners Ace; and never spit into the wind.

Bottom line: I don't think S/He is going to step in to help.

We're all on our own. Together.

Six months today

The weirdest dang thing...

This morning I got the most infectious of holiday tunes stuck in my head: it has a slow intro of a couple of lines that mention famous characters, but it all acts as a prelude as the actual song kicks into speed and the title character makes his appearance...

"You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.
But do you know
The most famous reindeer of all..."

Stuck. In. My. Head.



And it wasn't even the big bang part of the song that made its way into my head (the screaming "RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER!" part that children love). Instead, what got stuck in my noggin was the quiet, slow introduction of the other characters who barely make a re-appearance in the song. Once they are all listed one-by-one in the song's opening lines, the are relegated to minor parts and become barely worth mentioning as they become "all of the other reindeer".

Nevertheless...

Stuck. In. My. Head.

And later, after the song's lyrics had wormed their way into my head, I saw the date, and it hit me: Today is June 25 and it's six months to Christmas.

Perhaps it was mentioned on the radio as I was half-awake this morning and the date staggered its way into my not very alert subconscious. But even if that is the case and someone on the radio mentioned the festivities that are exactly half a year away, it's bizarre that my brain then made the leap to those lyrics.

On top of that, I'd say that it is "Jingle Bells" that's my favorite holiday song. "Rudolph" is more of a kids' tune where a youngster is recognized as having great potential and hidden talents; "Jingle Bells" has a hint of romance and adventure mixed with its holiday joy.

Nevertheless, for this morning, it was Rudolph who ruled. Six months early exactly to the day.

Weirdest dang thing.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Mulroney and Schrodinger





I finally realized why Brian Mulroney was so confused about all the money that he received in those envelopes!

It was because it didn't come with any sort of T4! There was no sort of tax receipt!! Therefore it wasn't really and truly a payment. It was like a gift! And when you receive a gift, it's, well, a gift! And since it didn't come with a gift receipt, it's not like he could return it or anything!

Oh sure he was supposedly supposed to do something of some sort or some kind for the money, but he didn't actually have anything in writing or anything, so it wasn't like he had an actual mandate -- he didn't have one of those so-called SMART objectives. And what could he do to earn the money without a specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and timely objective? He didn't have anything in writing or any means of indicating whether or not he had completed his task -- so, it wasn't really a job then, was it?

And if someone gave him cash with no receipt or any true expectation of the work actually being done... well, that must have been mighty confusing. But the envelopes kept on coming!


These two guys, Brian and Karl, can't even agree how much money there was because it was just a friendly little informal exchange. It was like going out with a bud for a coffee at Tim Horton's: "Oh, let me buy this week. You can get it next time. Want a honey cruller? No-no, it's my treat. Oh, and here's an envelope stuffed with cash."

And it's not like you can open the money while you're sitting at Tim's eating your cruller cuz that would just be crass. And it would have been equally rude to count the money or keep a record of it because (do you see now?) it was like a gift!

Sure, sure, there are rules regarding declaring gifts when one is a member of parliament, but that's if it's like an expensive vase or an African totem of fertility or something like that. How do you put a value on money when you haven't even counted it?

He just put it away for a rainy day. Imagine his surprise when he saw how much it was! That must have been a shocker: "He gave me this much money for doing nothing?!? Wow! What a gift!"



Poor, rich Brian. Given so much money that he to put it in a safety deposit box and then had to sue the government because it was rumoured that he had done something wrong. Over a simple misunderstanding that could have been corrected if he'd been given a T4 or a gift receipt!

When you look at it that way, it was like a political twist on the theory of Schrodinger's Cat: not really a gift, not really a payment, more like a cat that is whisked into non-existence until someone asks the right question to magically make the safety deposit box, the cat and the envelopes re-appear!

It can all make so much sense when it's examined from a quantum physics-like Alice in Wonderland perspective. "I make the rules! Nothing to see here! There is no cat. There are no envelopes. And off with their heads!!"

Dead words on the dirty ground

I was listening to the White Stripes the other day and it got me thinking about words that fall out of fashion.

I don't mean names that fall out of fashion (although I do find it interesting to note that 'Ralph' was in the top 25 and 'Florence' was in the top 10 in the year 1900) or objects (like the Walkman and Edsel) that become obsolete, but words that we just don't use that often and have a tinge of age about them.

The song is "Death Letter" and it goes...

"I got a letter this morning
What do you reckon it read?
It said the gal you love is dead"

And I thought 'reckon' is a great word but it's rarely used. Perhaps it sounds a little too southern and too cowboy to be using it up here in Canada. I can imagine Lyle Lovett using it in a conversation, but it would not sound as smooth coming from my mouth.

(Oh, and the internet was kind enough to teach me about the history of "Death Letter Blues" and its composer Son House. And the fact that song is 70 years old.)

The other word I enjoy in the same way is 'wont'. That word, and its meaning, is largely lost. Most people would now read that word as a misspelling of the 'will not' contraction.

Doesn't this sound like a great sentence: "As is his wont, I reckon." I can imagine Sam Elliot uttering it in "The Big Lebowski". I just can't see a business man on Wall Street saying the same thing.