Yet Another Classic

I think I need to set this one up for you all. Like all the others thus far, I wrote this song in high school and it was based on true events. At the time this was written, someone was running around killing people in a town in British Columbia. To add to this I was starting to get into some heavy music (Cannibal Corpse) that deals with the grotesque side of things. I have warned those of you I work with that you may see me in a different light after reading this and I really didn't want to post this but I cannot disappoint the few readers I have.

Murderous Ways

I feel myself slipping away
I fight to stay awake
Because as I drift to sleep
My thoughts become clearer
My urge to kill awakes
As I jump to my feet
I walk zombie like
Towards the kitchen cupboard
It's too late to turn around
The need for death is strong at hand

I leave the house
My victim soon to be found
Thoughts of death haunt my mind
As I attack them from behind
They never see me coming
With my knife in hand
They only feel my wrath
And never see my face

They have no chance to run
As I drag them to an alley
I feel their bodies tense
And know how scared they are
Nothing matters to me
'Cuz I enjoy the pain they feel

I take pride in my kills
And know they can't find me
No evidence is left behind
Except the rotting corpse
The blood soaked body lies
Waiting to be found
So more lives can be affected
By my murderous ways
No one's left unscarred
By my murderous ways.

I personally like the last few lines, as it was the basis for the song. When murder happens, especially serial or multiple murders, the fear of more murders grips the entire area and holds the citizens hostage. In this instance, I was slightly affected by these random attacks and I was miles or rather kilometres away from the actual events. I cannot even begin to imagine how those directly affected by events similar to the one described above really feel but they definately are not alone in their fear and anger.

I just want to emphasize that the feelings and thoughts in the above song lyrics have never really entered my mind other than for this song. Sure I have wished certain people were dead but I never considered helping them along at all, well at least not seriously and no where close to as savagely as described here. I hope I have put everyone's mind at ease so I don't receive any strange looks from behind pillars or desks.

Untitled

This following poem was based on an experience shared between myself and a friend several years ago; another lifetime ago is how it seems, one where the future was bright and the glass always full...of whiskey sours. She sent me a poem and I in turn was inspired to return the favour and this is what was created, or at least I think this is my version of things. Neverthless, it is nice poem and it serves as a reminder that once a moment has passed one cannot get it back.

One moment
Captured in time
By a few words
Written in prose.
A warm memory
Shared by two souls
Bound together
By the first-timeness
Of the moment.

A moment of reflection
Brought on by nature's creation.
Between light and dark
A first star lit up
Shining with the weight
Of the moment's indecision.
A wish to be had
No wish to be made
By two souls
Who were caught
By the first-timeness
Of the moment.

The Blind Leading the Blind

I just got back from a meeting with my section; a meeting that was hosted by both my manager and supervisor. This ‘meeting’ lasted 40 or so minutes, about 30 minutes longer than any reasonable person would have needed to hand out and skim through the 5 page point form document. Let’s just say there was enough ‘dead air’ to fill the Grand Canyon and all we got out of it was a cold fruit juice and some chocolate cookies. It totally felt like neither my manager nor supervisor really has a clue what is going on in this section. In fact, sometime in the next two weeks, my supervisor will be meeting with each one of us to find out what we do. Being in charge of the section, one would assume that they should already know what we do.

After a spell of dead air the administration people were banished from the room so the analysts could get down to the real work (I hope the sarcasm is coming through because I’m laying it on pretty thick). Anyhow, after being exiled and while we were treading down the walk of shame back to our office, Fuzzyhead says to us, “there is one hour of my life I would like to get back”. Well said Fuzzyhead, well said.

Saturday Morning Fun

I wanted to post an in depth blog about the gastroscopy I had performed on me Saturday but unfortunately the sedative worked too well and I don’t really remember much of what happened. I even had a conversation with my wife after the procedure in which I seemed quite alert but I had forgotten all about it until I was reminded of it Sunday. I still don’t remember receiving the discharge instructions.

Here are the highlights. I had to lie in a bed and wait for the doctor while he and the nurses took a break (in itself it is not too bad, I would rather have a rested doctor dealing with me then a tired one, but I didn’t know exactly what to expect from the procedure so I was getting nervous and as Tom Petty says ‘waiting is the hardest part’). Lucky for me there was a guy there who had finished his test and was waiting to go home and felt the need to talk. It turned out to be good for me though because he gave me some insight and I knew what to expect, at least somewhat.

Around 10:30 a nurse came and took me to the room the gastroscopy was to take place. She gave me an oxygen tube, which I made full use of (in through the nose, out through the mouth...inhale....exhale). Then my doctor came in, played the role of the concerned doctor, explained the procedure to me, and then slipped something into my iv. The last thing I remember was being asked to turn onto my side before I got too dopey (to which I replied I think I’m halfway there) and the doc slipped more sedative into my iv.

I do not recall any of the actual procedure but I do remember gagging 3 times, possibly even 4 times, then I was being wheeled out of the room. I was quite groggy for a bit after but I do remember the nurse took my blood pressure and said I could put my clothes back on. I remember asking the nurse if I could get some of those drugs to take home (unfortunately she said no) but totally forgot about the discharge instructions until I was reminded yesterday. I apparently also joked with my wife that as part of the instructions I could not drink and drive for 24 hours.

The usually mundane task of dressing myself seemed to be quite a challenge for me. It wasn’t the act of putting my shirt on that troubled me but rather the art of standing seemed to give me great difficulties. When I finally decided it was time to leave, I wobbled and swayed like a drunken idiot, out of the hospital and to the car, relying on my wife to keep me upright.

All in all it was not a horrible way to spend a Saturday morning but now I have the daunting task of waiting (almost a month) to find out if this test revealed any answers.

Lost In The Crowd

My life is a mess,
Nothing's sinking in.
Don't understand
How no one can see.
I need some help now,
Why can't you see?
Feeling lost
And all alone.
No one really cares
About the war inside of me.
Can't deal with this stress
And wasting of time.
I'm hurting inside,
Why can't you see?
Please, please help me!
Help me while you still can.
Can't take this no longer
Wish I were stronger
But I can't keep this up
And fulfill my dreams.
I need some help now,
But I've been
Lost in the crowd.

A Tragic Day

A sunny day.
A bright blue sky.
A hundred sit
Helplessly;
Hopelessly;
Unknowingly.

A silent sky
Broken by
A flash of light.
A fatal flight
The engines ignite.
Plane's engulfed
In a fiery death.

Crashes down,
It hits the ground.
Nothing left
But a mess of debris.
(What a gory scene)

A morbid day.
A hundred lay,
Dismembered.
As millions sit
Horrified.

A hundred died.
Millions cried.
On this tragic day.

Orange Juice

Here is another of my early poems / song lyrics / ramblings (take your pick). This one is totally mindless but I find it quite humourous, I hope you all do too.

Orange Juice

Orange juice,
Nicknamed OJ.
I drank two glasses
This morning.
If it's suppose to be
'Morning Sunshine',
Then why the fuck
Am I so
Pissed off.

I will be posting a couple more of my poems / lyrics in the coming days. I have two more in mind that are a couple of my favourites but the rest really are not worthy of posting (or so ridiculous as to be funny as in this case).

Pyromaniac!

Recent events have reminded me of a poem/song I wrote way back in high school that I want to share with everyone (unfortunately there are not too many other poems, etc from my high school days that are fit to share, to many expletive deletives would be needed). Enjoy!

PYRO

I feeel
Like a
Pyro.
A pyro.
I feel
The need
To light
A fire.
A fire.
Strike a match.
Watch the flames.
Owe,
I burnt
My hand.
Strike
A match
Again.
Again.
Use
Some gas.
Ignite
Your house.
Watch
The flames.
Listen.
Hear
The sirens.
The water.
Nooooooo.
The fire is
Dead.
Gone.
Dead.

Definately not one of my best but quite entertaining; good for a few laughs at least.

A Glimpse Inside The Mind Of A Madman

Are you back in the bathroom again? What do you do in there all the time?

Figure it out.

No, I mean like before. Like every morning before you leave you're in there for like a half an hour and all I ever hear is water running.

And?

You're not in there touching yourself, are you?

I was wrong about you. You're crass and retarded.

What do you do in there?

You really want to know?

I asked, didn't I? I'm playing the role of the concerned guy.

I cry.

You cry?

I cry.

Any particular reason?

Hey.

I think about the people that make decisions that affect our lives. The doctors who make advancements in curing diseases. The engineer that designs skyscrapers. The guy that maps out a plane's flight path.

The navigator.

I think about how those people are out there every day making a difference, leading big lives. And how they refuse to be intimidated by the tremendous odds of failure they face. And how they only concern themselves with peers and company that apply to their goals and noble causes.

Jesus! I'd hate to tell you what I think about when I'm in the bathroom.

I think about all that and I cry. Because I have nothing better to do than fuck you.

The above is a part of the script from Mallrats that has come to my mind a lot in the past few weeks. I feel like this passage explains how I feel about my job. There are people out there who go to work everyday and make a difference but I sit at a desk all day, invisible to most people (unless they are lost and confused and need to find their noses), generally doing nothing and when I do actually do work, it is meaningless mind-numbing tasks.

I don't know why I chose to write about this at this time. Maybe it has something to do with others around me pursuing their dreams or achieving something they had wanted for years. Or maybe it is because this subject was touched on brieflywith some co-workers of mine (I can't even call them colleagues that is how meaningless my job is; I would be degrading them all by referring to them as colleagues).

The problem lies in the fact that I have no real skills (I might have had some at one point but being where I am has seemed to destroy them all). I also work for the government so it is near impossible to find a job I am qualified for in the private sector that will pay anywhere close to what I 'earn' now. In fact, my equivalent jobs in the private sector pay at most $15 per hour and those are very few. To top it all off I rely on public transit to get to and from work and you all know some of the troubles I have with that.

Many of you out there will likely tell me to find something else, maybe in a different field altogether, and I would agree with you 100% but the trouble is what field. My hands seem totally out of my command some days and I can barely hammer a nail let alone construct a house or build a fence so construction my not be in the cards for me either. As my co-workers can testify, my people skills are lacking or rather non-existent and my brain seems to run on dollar store batteries that are nearing the end of their useful lives at times. Anyone hiring?

My only interests are video games (and I only beat Mario Brothers once, the original Nintendo game), sports (bush league skills at most and way past my athletic prime anyhow), and photography (but who isn't into photography these days). Oh yeah, don't forget music but I am as tone deaf as they come. So I have no skills and the few interests I do have won't lead to financially stable careers without dropping about half a million dollars in education, which I never liked the first time through...or even the second time.

Someone once told me that I am living in the wrong era and I am beginning to believe that. I keep thinking that once my wife goes back to work everything will be okay but I don't know if I can last here that long (I told my supervisor this morning that I am a prime candidate for 'going postal', I bet she spent the better part of the day trying to find a way to let me go...nicely). My wife has a better chance of finding a well paying job but it will come at a huge cost, less time to spend with baby Alan, and I don't know if she really wants to make that sacrifice.

This situation has made me think a lot about the past and the choices I have made to get where I am; the things I would have lost had I not chosen the path I did. I would have made some small alterations but other than my current employment situation, I can take solice in the fact I would not change a thing given the choice. Since this post is getting away from me I shall leave you now with the closing of the poem 'The Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost:

'I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by.
And that has made all the difference.'

Public Transit – The Better Way…

Yet another story courtesy of the ignorant asses that ride the GO train every day. The day started off in somewhat of a rush, I snoozed through my alarm the usual three (3), or was it four (4), times and still didn’t want to get up. Eventually I dragged by sorry ass out of bed and did my morning routine. When I got outside I was still behind schedule and I had to scrape the inch-thick (or so it seemed) frost off my windows and wait for the car to warm-up. I finally arrived at the train station and was “lucky” enough to have been on time for my usual train so I wander to my usual seat.

My usual seat is the two-seater on the top level of the coach. For those who ride the TTC it is similar to the two-seaters on the subway except there is leg room for normal size people. There is in fact lots of leg room and no-one sitting opposite to fight for the space. All mine.

We arrive at the last stop and the train is fairly full as usual, the seat beside me is still vacant though (I guess I am really that scary that no-one dares sit beside me. Do they know I am the top candidate at work for “going postal”, is it really that obvious? Or maybe it is the heavy metal music mixed with 1960’s country blaring out of my headphones that deter people from sharing the ride to work with me). Whatever the case the seat is usually vacant until the last stop. Finally, just when I was thinking I was not going to have a seat mate, a man roughly six feet tall, not exactly fat, but still covered with a layer of french fry created cushion, sat down beside me.

Ordinarily that would be the end of things and I wouldn’t be writing endlessly about the ride to work but of course today there is still more to tell. Instead of just sitting in the seat and trying not to bother anyone (being me) he squirmed and wriggled even lashed as if defending a rebound in basketball. Now you may think ‘what’s the problem here?’, but just picture two grown men, six feet tall, weighing a combined half ton sitting in a seat designed for five foot nothing people…there isn’t room to act like Michael Jordan. I would have shifted a bit in my seat except for the fact there was no room to shift.

He then rummaged through his bag, elbowing me and such as he went, and finally pulled out a newspaper, the Globe and Mail (well, at least he’s not a complete moron…or is he? The first section he grabbed to read was the sports section…the Globe and Mail is possibly the worst Toronto based newspaper for sports coverage, next to the National Post but that isn’t much of a paper anyhow). He settled down to read his paper and other than the occasional bump, he kept to himself. That is until his feet started shifting and he kept kicking me. I of course stand, well I guess it is more like sit, my ground and prevent him from infringing on my space and transforming my ride from slightly uncomfortable to totally unbearable.

The train, after what seemed like days, finally pulled into to Union Station and everyone debarked and headed to their work locations. I waited patiently for the guy beside me to get up and when he did, he had the gall to turn back and look at me as if I did something wrong. Hello, was I not just sitting there trying to mind my own business getting elbowed so much that the new NHL would have given him a match penalty for attempt to injure? I must be wrong, I guess I should have cut off half my body so he could be more comfortable, or maybe he was just irritated that I didn’t roll out the red carpet for him and kissed his ring. He was after all wearing a cheap suit, likely from Moores, the store that thrives on ignorance and disregard for those that they think are inferior to themselves, while I was (and still am) wearing a nice t-shirt and slacks from Marks Work Warehouse.

Pick a Spot, Any Spot

My work day yesterday ended like every other; I was so bored and tired at work I snuck out early only to have to wait for my train buddy. Once she hurriedly gathered the essentials (id badge for work so she could get in the next day, house keys, bag full of whatever, and most importantly her saviour on the train, the engineering marvel, the apple iPod. Anyhow, that is irrelevant to my story.

We rode the train with our iPod’s blaring, in an attempt to drown out the “lop’s” (loud obnoxious people) until we reached our destination. She got off in the first stop or so while I struggled to the end of the line. When I finally reached my stop I got off the train, strolled as slowly as possible towards the parking lot, found where I had left my car that morning, turned on the radio and began a Sudoku puzzle while I waited for the chaos of everyone trying to leave at once to end…or at least die down.

Every so often I looked up from the puzzle to see if the line of cars had dissipated. On one of these observances I noticed that the space to my right was vacant as well as four or five spaces in front of me. Nice, I can just pull out and go from there. But wait, there are lights coming at me. That can’t be. But it was. A car, with all the other empty spaces not only around me but in the entire parking lot, the driver decided to park right in front of me blocking my easy escape. After the shock wore off I noticed that there were two females in the car sporting the ever popular straw cowboy (I guess in this case cowgirl) hat. At least I will have a nice view as payment for the inconvenience but I was sadly mistaken.

Pictures of My Son

July 10, 2006 vs. October 26, 2006

Baby Update # 3

Baby my son has once again returned from a doctor's appointment. This time he went to receive the remaining vaccination shots given to babies. He now weighs in at ten (10) pounds five (5) ounces and will not have to make an appearance at the doctors office for another two months now.

As you can see from the picture above, he is starting to hold his head up some and with a little help he can even sit up. Now that my son appears more human like, I have once again found the camera and the past few days have taken a few pictures. I imagine now that he is beginning to be more active and is beginning to learn new abilities I will be snapping pictures like a mad man again (but don't expect too many more pics to be posted). Before long the struggle of keeping my son from pulling the cat's tail or other such troublesome activities will begin so you can look forward to some entertaining stories in the future.

Smoking Continued...

Please read the post below before reading this one.

I just wanted to add some more thoughts.

Some may argue that the choice to smoke or not to smoke is up to each person to decide on their own. By forcing the smokers outside, the choice to pollute ones lungs has been made for them by the government (not to mention the choice to smoke should be seen as the choice to end ones life as mentioned in part one below). It is time for us to take the power back, Rage Against the Machine styles, and force the government to do away with the real cigarettes as they did with the Popeye cigarettes. The amount of money lost from the tobacco tax and the people working in the tobacco industry will be offset by the decrease in the amount spent on health care. The increased cost of health care in Ontario is after all, one of the reasons for continually increasing the tobacco tax is it not???

Others may argue that drinking is just as dangerous as smoking and should be banned. Whether drinking should also be banned is not the point of this post but I can say it is not the same as smoking. The single act of drinking harms no one but the drinker and depending on the study one reads a moderate amount of alcohol has certain health benefits. The same cannot be said about tobacco or smoking. Smoking has no health benefits and one cigarette can affect anyone in a close proximity to the smoker.

I am sure there will be many more points of view on this subject as it is always a hot topic. I am only one man with a slightly different perspective than many people as is evidenced almost daily (maybe one day I will blog about that issue) so I am not saying my views here are correct. I just had some thoughts I wanted to share and maybe one day someone will be able to rid this world of such pollutants. I did not even mention the addictive nature of cigarettes (and for those that continue to debate habit vs. addiction, I can tell you it is both). To eliminate smokers we must eliminate the source. One cannot smoke cigarettes if one cannot obtain cigarettes.

To Smoke or Not To Smoke? It's Not Really Up To You Anymore

There was a time when one could light up anywhere they wished. One could be at peace smoking in malls, coffee shops, bars and even airplanes. Ah, the good old days! Smoking was such a common occurrence and so widely accepted throughout most of the 1900’s, advertisements for the death sticks littered magazines, even more so than alcohol ads.

Then results from numerous studies on smoking and the effects of the chemically filled cigarettes started popping up but one still knew where they could smoke and more importantly; one knew where others would be smoking so they could avoid smokers and the stink of burning tobacco-laced chemicals if they so pleased. Once these studies proved that tobacco smoke causes a variety of illnesses and diseases that could lead to death, the government ignored the warnings for as long as they could before taking actions against the feared smokers.

Instead of banning cigarettes outright, as they would any other item that posed a health risk, the government simply created and increased a tax on tobacco products, made the tobacco companies add warnings to their products, and forced businesses to have separate smoking areas for their customers. After continued pressure from the public, or at least a portion of the public, all levels of governments have imposed various bans on smoking in public establishment (bars, restaurants, etc…).

With smoking being banned indoors, this activity now takes place outdoors on public streets where unsuspecting passer-by’s are exposed to the toxic mix of pollutants released from the ends of the tobacco tubes. These pedestrians, in the end, become smokers themselves even though they spend no money on cigarettes or put no cigarette to their mouth just because they inhale tobacco filled air just by walking outside.

Where is the government in all of this, you may ask? Trying to rub the green from their eyes after counting all the tobacco revenue they collected. And where are the tobacco companies? In court defending themselves from the countless lawsuits filed against them. In my opinion, these lawsuits should be directed at the government and not the companies that are just trying to sell a product in our democratic society. After all, if these cigarette products are so dangerous as to lead to death, should not the government ban them in the interest of public safety?

On second thought, maybe the smokers of the world are all criminals. Suicide, or at least, attempted suicide is against the law. Studies have shown and the government agrees that smoking could lead to death; therefore, anyone who purchases cigarettes is attempting suicide. I will take this one step further still, keeping in mind that many agree that smoking kills. With smokers forced outside where anyone passing by may inhale the toxic fumes, these smokers are also guilty of attempted murder. Since the government is responsible for forcing these deviants outside and giving them the opportunity to kill others, not to mention allowing the sale of these deadly in the first place, they must be guilty of something.

A Very Generous Gift Indeed!

I am sure everyone who reads my blog religiously, and has been tired of me only having two eyes, has received a gift that they could call generous, whether it was having permission to leave work a whole thirty minutes early on Christmas Eve day or when Grandma gave you a $50 dollar bill instead of her usual $5 (not like that ever happened to me though) at the end of a pleasant visit. Maybe you received an extravagant gift from someone you expected a sack of coal from, and then felt really bad about it because you did give them a sack of coal...You get the idea.

So when I received a card from Bell’s internet service, Sympatico, stating something to the effect that they (the faceless morons at Bell) hoped my recent move (well my move two and a half months ago) was a success and that they were giving me a month of internet service free, I was thrilled, I got that warm fuzzy feeling deep down inside. They do care, the almighty corporations do care! I waited patiently for my next telephone bill to arrive (thanks to Bell’s one bill everything is on one bill now and is twice as complicated to figure out) so I could gloat about the freebie. When the bill finally came I giddily ripped it open like a child opening a Christmas present and my mouth dropped; there was no rebate for the month’s internet service.

Now I was thinking I had read the card wrong so I read it again, then I conferred with Mrs. Shuster to see if I might be reading it wrong. Alas, I was mistaken; it said they had given me a free month of internet service. I immediately tore through my bills from the last three months trying to find the rebate but it was useless, I never received this alleged free month of internet service. So when this month’s bill came I was expecting to finally see this elusive free month but again I was disappointed. How much more disappointment can one man take???

All I have to say is that at least they didn’t charge me twice! I have given up hope for this supposed free month of internet service. As the title says, this was a very generous gift indeed! Thanks Bell, you guys rock! Best company in the world, next to Rogers of course.

I Only Have Two Eyes...And they Aren't On The Back Of My Head

Today started out like every other. I woke up (sort of anyhow), showered, drove to the train station and took a Toronto bound GO train. Forty minutes or so later the train came to a rest at Union Station. As usual, I let most of the car empty before I disembarked and started my short hike to the office.

Just for those who might not know the layout I will try to quickly explain. I exit track level on the west end where there are stairs heading down to street level. The stairs are joined with the stairs from other tracks and become three sets that open on to a very large walkway leading to two rows of doors and the outside world. These doors consists of three sets each, a single door situated on the either end with a set of double doors in the middle all exiting to the same street.

I used the middle set of stairs and once I hit the walkway I headed straight for the double doors in the middle (by using the middle stairs, one would logically assume they should also use the middle doors right?). I continued towards the exit and just before I stepped through the first doorway, I saw a figure emerge from my right and bully his way through the door in front of me. Well, since I don’t have eyes in the back of my head, his body managed to make it through but unfortunately, being so early in the morning, my brain didn’t process this fast enough and his backpack went through the door at the same time I did slowing the man down. End result, I walked on his shoes and possibly even up his leg a bit. He got through the next set of doors with me on his heels (literally) and decided it would be a good idea to stop. Of course he was in too big of a rush to stop before the first set of doors and prevent a scene like this from occurring but he all of a sudden found time to stop now. Anyhow, I kept walking, pushing the man out of my way and continuing on my way. Unfortunately the man was heading the same way I was and he said something to me that I couldn’t hear since I had my ipod blasting in my ears. I yelled something back to him (again with headphones on the voice seems to amplify a touch) hoping to end the “discussion” but he continued to waste my oxygen by trying to talk to me.

"'When you leave these walls, you will come upon the many pillars of violence.' - Kan
'May not a man one with nature seeing such pillars avoid them?' - Caine
'Other men stumble in the way. They go in idlest search of peace.' - Kan
'Must I then tumble down these pillars?' - Caine
'Seek always peace. Wear no path for the footsteps of others unless the soul is endangered. We are all linked by our souls. To endanger one endangers all.' – Master Kan

Foreseeing only bad things happening from there and having the above words of Master Kan (Kung Fu) drowning out my music, I turned and walked the other way avoiding any ugliness.

Professional Athletes??

This past weekend I sat back and relaxed in front of the television and watched whatever sport was on at the time, which was primarily baseball. So I am watching these so called professionals playing a kids game and getting paid millions of dollars supposedly doing it in a professional manner. I would like to know MLB’s idea of professionalism.

First of all, there is the rag tag bunch from Boston, the Red Sox, and World Series Champions two years back. On first glance they look more like potential actors auditioning for a modern Bad News Bears team movie than members of a championship winning professional sports team. Hats on slightly askew with hair protruding from beneath at odd angles, pants with the crotches at the player’s knees and the legs dragging behind them and, no doubt, some arms covered in ex-wives/girlfriends names or the latest in barbed wire designs. Some other players throughout the league are just as bad but they seem to be scattered more so than the Red Sox players.

The player’s actions themselves are not much better than their dress. Helmets and bats flying everywhere after a strikeout, f-bombs being dropped equally as frequent, and managers and players alike throwing tantrums at every bad call made by the umpires (which seem to be increasing) with no apparent punishment. These “professionals” don’t really seem to be very professional now do they? What would happen if a lawyer called a judge a cock sucker because he didn’t agree with a decision? He would be thrown in jail for contempt. Or if a manager told a director he made a boneheaded decision? The manager would likely be fired.

It’s time to bring the professionalism back to professional sports. If these multi-million dollar players can’t respect the hand that feeds them, then it’s time to replace them with those who will.

untitled

For the past few days I have been wanting to write something worthy enough to post but as you may have noticed I haven’t been able to. I haven’t even come up with anything at all, let alone something worthy. But then who am I kidding I’m definitely no Stephen King; nothing I write is really worthy of anything.

I do have some ideas but they are just complaints about how fucked up society is or how stupid governments are. Everyone already knows these things and instead of doing anything to fix it they just laugh it off like some punch line to a joke. They laugh and then continue on their day like the fish really are suppose to have three eyes and the rain is really suppose to burn when it hits the skin. Or that it is okay that the Government wastes our money on some third world country when we have numerous needs for it right here, in our own country.

I must end this post now since it has turned into what I was trying to avoid: an endless rant about something dumb; something that will never change; something that no one really cares to change. To make matters worse, I don’t fell any better; no weight has been lifted from me at all. The skies haven’t suddenly opened up to a cloudless abyss, with the sun shining its golden rays of happiness over the land. Let me leave you with this final thought:

When I was a child

I caught a fleeting glimpse

Out of the corner of my eye.

I turned to look but it was gone

I cannot put my finger on it now

The child is grown,

The dream is gone.

I have become comfortably numb.

-Pink Floyd

Comfortably Numb

Baby Update # 2

Another doctor’s appointment has come and past for baby my son. He has gained weight nicely since his last visit and is now 8 pounds 4 ounces. The doctor is finally pleased with my son’s progression so my son’s trips to the doctor’s office have been cut in half; he only has to go once a month now, much to Mrs. Shuster’s relief.

My son is still two weeks behind where he should be but he seems quite content as the picture shows. It is quite amazing at how much my son has grown in a relatively short time, from being merely a handful ten weeks ago to having his head alone filling a hand. I’m really looking forward to the next couple months as my son will start “talking” more and will hopefully be able to sit by the end. I think he is going to be moving about causing havoc by the end of the year.

Crikey!

Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter
1962 - 2006

They say the good die young, and Steve is no exception. He was truly a great man that put his knowledge and skills to use to educate people, better his country and to protect those that could not protect themselves.

Rest in Peace Steve.

The Stanley Cup

While the NHL playoffs were going on last spring I was reading a book published by the Federal government about the first 100 years of Canada. Being one of our national sports, hockey was discussed and more importantly how the Stanley cup became the trophy given to the best NHL team each year was also mentioned.

Here’s a little history lesson: the Stanley Cup “was donated in 1892 by Sir Frederick Arthur Stanley, Lord Stanley of Preston and son of the Earl of Derby…to be presented to ‘the championship hockey club of the Dominion of Canada.’” This trophy was first given out to amateur hockey clubs since there was no professional league then. Once a professional league was started, the Stanley Cup was taken for the league champions, after much debate I’m sure. Somehow this league evolved into, or was taken over by another league, and became the National Hockey League (this aspect isn’t too important to my rant).

So the NHL continues to use the Stanley Cup as its annual award. Let’s look at this a little more closely now. The NHL has pretty much been taken over by the USA, at least the business side has been, and did they not also want nothing to do with England a couple hundred years ago? I am not a history expert or anything, but did the USA not battle England for their independence.
“In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip.
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans”
I’m sure these lyrics by Johnny Horton (The Battle of New Orleans) reference the war.

So the USA wants nothing to do with England, the NHL has been taken over by the USA and the Stanley Cup was given to Canada for the best Canadian hockey club by an English Lord, why does the NHL still get to use the Stanley Cup? Why does the USA still want it? Do they think every time an American based team (at least half full of Canadians) wins the Stanley Cup it is like a small victory over England?

Whatever the reason is, I say the Stanley Cup should be returned to Canada, where it belongs, and have the NHL find some other piece of metal to play for.

But as it turns out (if you check out the website referenced above) the original Stanley Cup is sitting in a vault the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, Canada! The Stanley Cup that the NHL teams play for is just an imitation of a Canadian treasure. Ha!

Baby Update # 1

The highly anticipated update on my son is finally here. I have finally found time to scan some pictures (I haven't taken any digital pics in a couple weeks) of my boy.

He has been growing well these past two months and is now over seven (7) pounds; 7 pounds 8 ounces to be exact (or at least it was exact a week ago). Still not big enough. He is even starting to do things; he can hold his head up on his own fairly well and he has even started to smile.

It's just unfortunate he isn't always as peaceful as he looks in the first picture. Other than the occassional cranky days, my son is a good and quiet baby. I just hope it stays that way.

Beware the Plutonians

Many of you may have read or heard that a group of astronomers have decided that Pluto doesn’t deserve planetary status anymore. Pluto, along with the newly discovered Xena, has been classified as a dwarf planet.

In and of itself that would be no big deal; however, Pluto has been classified as a full fledged planet since it was discovered in 1930. The beings of Pluto must be right pissed at this; I know I wouldn’t take too kindly if some other planet decided Earth didn’t deserve planetary status. These astronomers may have just given enough fuel to the Plutonians to wage an inter-galactic war against Earth. It’s time for us “Earthlings” to unite and prepare for an attack.

All this could have been avoided if the astronomers would have just given Xena planetary status when it was discovered last year. But no, it was too hard to think of acronyms that included X so instead they chose to insult the inhabitants of another planet by downgrading that planets status. Shame on them!

Blue Jays Season is Officially Over

For all those Blue Jays fans out there who still thought a playoff spot was attainable, you can put those thoughts to bed for another year. Instead of trying to better the team at the trade deadline, J.P. did nothing. Even though the Jays were about 7 or 8 games back from the then division leading Red Sox, they still had a chance to play October baseball. I guess J.P. misses his mommy and would rather be with her than here in Toronto playing for the MLB championship come October. Whatever the reason there were no trades from him at the deadline.

So now with about 6 weeks left in the season, J.P. trades Hinske to the Red Sox for a player to be named later. Okay so Hinske isn’t a superstar or anything but he still fills a need that Boston has and by doing so he makes Boston a better team. With this trade, J.P. totally ignored the one basic rule; don’t trade within your own division, especially to a team you’re contending with to make the playoffs. The Jays received nothing in return except the assurance from the GM that there will be no playoff baseball this year.

In the end, this season has been no better than last year, except they are spending more on player salaries. I think it is time to get someone who knows the game to fill the role of general manager of the Blue Jays. If I am not mistaken, next season will be the fifth year of J.P.’s five year plan so if he doesn’t get the Jays into the playoffs in 2007, I say off with his head. If I am mistaken, J.P. should get the axe immediately.

Spectator Sport?

FYI for TSN, The Score and Sportsnet:

POKER IS NOT A SPECTATOR SPORT....

IT ISN'T EVEN A SPORT.

Stop showing it!! It is extremely boring!!!

And for all those who disagree, hm, well?!

The Long Short Week

Another weekend is almost upon us; another week all but over and I have never wanted the weekend to come as much as I do right now. The four-day week that follows every long weekend always seems so long, longer than the usual five-day weeks and this week has been no exception.

Is it because I am in a golf tournament tomorrow, a day to be filled with good food, good friends, and hopefully even some good golf (I’m not holding my breath on that one though)? The tournament is always the highlight of my summer even though my team has finished last the past three years.

Is this drawn out feeling a trick by my subconscious mind? Does the fact that it is a short week affect the mind’s perception of time?

Or is it simply a result of my sheer boredom at work and my desire to be doing anything but come to this dungeon every day?

Whatever the reason for this feeling, in just over 4 hours from now I will be on the train heading home and the weekend will have officially started. Even the train crazies won’t seem so bad to me tonight…okay, that might be stretching it as they are usually worse on Friday afternoons. Another good reason to look forward to the weekend; two days I don’t have to deal with the train crazies.

The Four Seasons

I recently heard summer and winter classified as the main seasons and something about that statement just didn’t sit right with me. There are four seasons, and in Southern Ontario they are four very distinct seasons, each with approximately the same number of days and each with their own beauty. The spring has the fresh smell and colours of flowers; the summer has the warm days followed by amazing sunsets; the fall has the beauty of changing leaves and the crispness in the air; and the winter has the virginal white of fresh fallen snow. Each season should be given a fair shake because if it wasn’t for the cycle of the seasons there would be no contrast to compare the individual seasons with.

In the whole cycle of things, spring is seen as the beginning of life with all the flowers blooming, the weather warming and the animals mating while the fall is considered the ending of life with the flowers dying and the leaves changing colours and falling off the trees. Summer and winter is merely representative of life and death. As we all know (or at least the creators of suspense films and novels know) there is no excitement in life or death, but rather the excitement lies in the anticipation of new life or the long drawn out dying scene (spring & fall).

I am not trying to convince anyone to like spring or fall or tell people which seasons to like or dislike, all I want is for each season to be respected for what it has to offer. It is the bitter cold of winter that has us wanting summer but it is the fresh warm smell of a spring day that really gets us excited about the summer to come. Each season takes up about 25% of the year so if you are waiting for one particular season to come around again, you will have wasted three-quarters of the year waiting so get out and enjoy each season for what it has.

The Exodus Begins

As another long weekend is upon us, thousands of people who live in the GTA begin the mass exodus north. Tall buildings and the sound of emergency vehicles will be replaced by the murky blue/green water of an Ontario lake, great or small, and the sound of nature.

These people get to rush work from work tonight, hastily toss their weekend necessities into their vehicle, hoping they didn’t forget anything, grab a quick snack to satisfy them until they get to their destination, and head onto Hwy 400. As always the 400 will be jammed with everyone else heading north so the drive will take three times as long as it should. The “smart ones” have taken today off work and are already at their cottage trying to sleep on that old lumpy mattress they took from their house in the GTA. The weekend will pass and Monday night everyone will close up their cottage and head back to the GTA absolutely exhausted from their weekend away. Sitting in traffic, wishing the weekend wasn’t over or that they were at home already getting prepared for the upcoming workday.

Ah yes, this is the life. Spending a minimum of 6 hours in a vehicle, in the heat, cursing all the “idiots” on the road, adding the extra stress, all for a couple days of “solitude” hardly seems worth it. And then they have the audacity to complain about the gas prices. All the joys of a cottage can be found in Toronto, and with the money saved on gas, a one night stay at a hotel is affordable if desired.

Did I get Fooled Again??

I am trying to live by the song made popular by The Who, “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, but I have to wonder if I did just that.

It seems that not all makes or models of cars, trucks, vans, SUVs or any other road worthy vehicle (legal or not) come standard with lights. I bought my car six years ago and I never had the option of buying lights, they just came standard (along with the turn signal, but that is a whole different issue). Did GM fool me into paying for lights when they apparently aren’t needed? Have the car companies become so cheap as to offer lights as an added package?

I say lights are not needed because there are too many people that don’t know when to use them. Driving to the train station this morning in the dull rainy weather, I passed several vehicles without their lights on and of course they were all dull gray in colour and blended into the surroundings. The daytime situation is bad enough but the drivers that really irritate me are those that drive in “stealth mode”, as I like to call it, in the middle of the night. Black does not contrast very well on black does it? I'll give you a hint, gray doesn't contrast on itself very well either.

If it is the cost of the lights you’re concerned about, just think of the thousands of dollars it will cost you in car repairs (or a new car which is more likely the case), increased insurance and even the cost of life if you are involved in an accident. (I have yet to replace a single light in the past six years). I think the $5 lights are a lot cheaper in the long run. But then again the world is getting overpopulated.

Hooked on Kung Fu

I was off work for a couple of weeks to help get the house in order and to help my wife take care of the little one. Since she would be awake early every morning (night to most people) to comfort our child and try, unsuccessfully, to get him to sleep, I tried to get up earlier than usual to let her get some sleep, after all that was why I was home. That didn’t work some days but on the days that I did get up I couldn’t really do much but watch TV while holding little Alan. So I flipped through the channels endlessly trying to find something even halfway decent to watch. Finally, one morning I stumbled on Kung Fu: The Legend Continues and was instantly hooked on it.

For those who don’t know the show is about a son and his dad, a Shaolin priest, fighting crime and instilling moral virtues in viewers. A little gunplay and some martial arts always make for good viewing, even if it is Canadian made.

Anyhow, back to the story. That first morning I didn’t note down the time the show was on so every day after that I searched tirelessly trying to find it. A day or two later I finally found the show again, weekday mornings at 8 am on Showcase and again at 3:00 in the afternoon. I am back at work now and will not be able to watch the show anymore but lucky for me the first three seasons are on DVD. Coincidently my birthday is approaching and that other gift giving holiday is not too far away either (I dare not name it in the middle of summer). Some may think Kung Fu: the Legend Continues is a lame show but for some unexplained reason I just can’t get enough of it.

The Joys of Moving

My move is becoming a redundant theme on my blog but I just have to share this story with everyone. With moving comes a lot of headaches, address changes with everyone from the Federal Government (CRA), the Provincial Government (MTO), credit card companies and banks. Then there is moving services such as telephone and cable. Lucky for everyone it takes Rogers a long time to discconnect the old cable service. but unlucky for everyone is the move of phone services.

Like most people in Canada I use Bell for my phone services (at least for now) and they pretty much had a monopoly on the telephone market. Now they have some competition (VOIP services & even Rogers now has Home Phone services) but they still have the monopoly mentality to go along with their incompetence.

My wife requested a move of our phone service with Bell (unfortunately we also use their internet access) on July 3. Bell said no problem it will be up and running on the 5th, which it was for about 30 minutes. She called Bell that night and we had service for about 2 hours and then nothing. July 6 we were almost hung up on and by the 7th we were patched through to "Escalations" and spoke with a manager. He manage to get the phone line operational but he was still sending someone to take a look at our line in the morning of the 8th because we were getting static on the line. It wasn't until dinner time on the 12th that someone from Bell finally showed up to check our phone.

Depending on how things shape up in the next few weeks (meaning let's see if I get billed for the week the phone wasn't working) I may be finding another provider for both telephone and internet.

The Move

This is more of a specific post to those people who helped out with the move. I would like to thank the following people who helped me with the move, AS, MK, TK, KS, Dan, BH, DH, SS & MS.

A special thanks goes out to my mom who spent the day in the hospital helping my wife adjust to having the baby in her room and to PS & JC who stayed after everyone else left and restored some order to the place (they were the ones that made sure I had a working TV) and have returned since the moving day to help with some more unpacking.

It was a crazy time for me and I thank everyone for their help.

Chaos A.D.

As many of you already know my son was born three weeks early. And to make things a little more hectic, as if the uncertainty of my situation was not stressful enough, we were scheduled to move into our new house two days later.

Here is the condensed version of events. My wife was induced on the 21st of June because an ultrasound showed a possible concern with the baby; my son was born in the wee hours of the 22nd. I drove 30 minutes to the lawyers office later on the 22nd to sign the papers for the house, still unsure how my son was doing, wondering if he will be sent to Sick Kid’s in Toronto. The closing of the house was on the 23rd and I had to make two trips to the lawyer’s office, once to return the signed power of attorney and the second to get the keys, not what I wanted to be doing at that point. The next day, the 24th, I had to move us into our new house. Luckily, I had a ton of help from family and friends so the move was not so bad, except the house was a chaotic mess. I at least had a place to sleep and the TV was working. Finally on the 25th both my wife and my son were released from the hospital.

That leads into the following week that was devoted entirely to unpacking and getting any leftovers from our old place. Finally, three weeks later, we are almost totally unpacked, including several boxes of my childhood junk from my parent’s house, and I can focus all of my attention to my son.

Silly American Thing

The whole coin incident that happened in the NHL playoffs has reminded me about another quirk that happens at some sporting events in the US when a team from a Canadian city plays a team in an American city. This only seems to happen for Canada’s national sports (hockey and lacrosse) but that may be because the lone Canadian team in both the NBA and MLB haven’t been involved in any post season play recently. This quirk is the chanting of U-S-A near the end of the game when the American team is in the lead.

The first complaint about this is that these games are not between teams representing the two countries. Just because a team is based in a city of one country does not mean it represents the entire country. The team can only be seen to represent the City it’s based from. There is likely several hockey “fans” in Toronto right now cheering for Carolina to win the Stanley Cup. And can you blame them since Bettman, the commissioner, is even cheering for Carolina, but that’s another story. The hatred Torontonians have for the rest of the country is no going to be put aside because of a game.

The second complaint about the U-S-A chant is that the American based teams, at least in hockey and lacrosse, are still comprised primarily of Canadians. In fact, if you look at the actual numbers, American born players are still the minority on most teams. For example, the NLL Champions (Colorado Mammoth) had 8 Americans and 17 Canadians while the losing side of the championship game (Buffalo Bandits) shows 1 American and 25 Canadians (using the rosters on NLL.com). As for the NHL, only 7 of the 25 Carolina Hurricanes are American while 11 are Canadians (including team captain and one assistant captain) and there are 5 Americans and 20 Canadians on the 32 man roster of the Oilers (according to the respective team websites). There is likely a similar mix to most other teams for the most part, some may even have more “foreign-born” players but the Americans will still be the minority.

As proven here, the players on hockey and lacrosse teams based in American cities mostly consist of none-Americans. Given this fact it is improbable that the players represent anything more than the City where they are employed. The fact that a team plays their home games on American soil does not mean anything more then that and the fans of those teams shouldn’t try to make more out of it then that. If one wants to start a chant that splits the ears of all others in the arena and hopefully give the home team some advantage or more incentive to win, then please use the team’s name. The City’s name would do just fine too but whatever you do, do not chant for your country as no one playing a professional sport in North American is playing for their country.

What's in a Name?

Are you tired of getting home from work, all excited to be with anyone but those annoying co-workers, ready to sit down to a nice home cooked meal only to find out dinner is the same old meat and potatoes? Well I have a solution for you. Give your food a name. Now I bet you’re saying to yourself, what? Name your food? This guy has finally lost it! But alas, it really helps make boring food more exciting.

For instance, one day last winter I was working on making dinner for my wife and me. We usually just have meat and potatoes but for some reason, maybe the wind was blowing just right, maybe there was a full moon, I don’t know, I wanted a salad. Being creative as I am sometimes with food, I decided to cut the lettuce into wedges and top it with the vegetables I had. Even with the salad dinner was still looking pretty sad. But wait, the salad looks like the peak of a mountain and once the white potatoes are spotted with some caramelized onions, they will look like dirty snow. That night we had a “Mountain Peak” salad followed by tender pork chops with “Dirty Snow” potatoes.

That meal was a lot more exciting than it would have been without the name. To this day I am still being asked about my dirty snow potatoes. Not only does naming food make dinner interesting but it makes people remember the food, even those people who don’t eat it. If you can’t be creative with your cooking then at least be creative with the name of your food and see what kind of reaction you’ll get. I’m willing to bet you will add some excitement to your food and people will actually want to eat it.

Air Pollution

If you were expecting a long winded rant on the damage being done by the tall grey towers of concrete that pierces the tranquil sky, I’m sorry to disappoint. The air pollution I’m referring to is the use, or rather the misuse of perfumes and colognes employed by so many people. From this point forward when I say perfume I am including cologne too, it makes for a tough read if I keep writing perfume/cologne. And I need to include the guys too as they are just as guilty of polluting the air as women are.

Perfume should be used as a light fragrance to enhance one’s aroma, not as a warning that can be smelled from miles away. Seriously now people. Do you want to be remembered as that stinky person who likes to shower in their perfume or do you want to turn heads with a surprisingly light fragrant aroma that floats in the air when passing by? I doubt anyone would choose the first reaction so why do so many people abuse their perfume.

Is it really that difficult to apply perfume? Most, if not all, bottles of perfume have the little spray pump nozzle do they not? One squirt is all you need. If that is too much then by all means don’t press the nozzle all the way down. It’s not rocket science (well, maybe developing the high tech bottle was). The next time you want to shower yourself in the stink of highly concentrated chemicals, please stop and recall my message and you too can reduce the pollution in the air.

The Packing Continues

Everyday I come home from work and see that there are more boxes packed and I think 'great, the packing is almost done', then I look further and see another pile of boxes yet to be packed. Will this madness ever end???

But today I looked at the big stack of filled boxes and had a laugh. I remember seeing boxes stacked in just such a manner before but they weren't the ugly brown of discarded fry boxes, oh no, they were the multi-coloured boxes that my fellow house mates and I were proud of. Every student (at least every male student) knows what I am talking about, the ever popular wall of empty beer cases, otherwise known as "The Beer Wall".

Ah yes, the good ol' days, where it was cool to show off to everyone how much beer the house could consume in one school year. And that beer wall of ours provided us with quite the party at the end of each year as it always paid for at least 2 fresh cases of the student version of champagne.

It's just too bad this memory doesn't take away from the reality of things, we still have a ton of crap to pack and eventually move.

I am The Invisible Man

Another day at work, lost in the confusion of cubicles filled with computers and other technological marvels, ergonomically correct chairs, and people too busy to smile. Five days a week my life is spent like this, only to be broken by what seems to be two very short days of sitting at home doing nothing. Ah yes, what an exciting life I lead. Living an “existence” that consists of drifting through the abyss we call life, with no real purpose or objective, just simply occupying space.

Ah yes, I do have some friends to share the joys of life with but once another person enters the room I am but a memory, a shape that blends into the wall as if I was a painter’s design. Could it be that I wear such neutral colours that I am discernable from the drab wallpaper or paint that adorn the walls? Most days this theory could be true but even on those rare days when I do wear brighter colours I still seem to fade away when in a group.

Now that I am expecting a child the little acknowledgement I do get will be reduced even further by a small being no bigger than my head. In another month or so my transformation into the invisible man will be complete. Be warned that if you are bumped by an unseen force, or you walk into a large soft mass of nothingness, please apologize, step to the side and continue on your way for it was just me that you walked into, The Invisible Man.

Safety on the Streets?!?!

One of these days I don't think I am going to make it to work, or even worse home. The driving habits of people are horrendous. Whether I am actually driving or just walking I feel like my next step or kilometer might be my last. Being cut off when driving; nearly run over while walking the 1 kilometre between the train station and my home.

A quick driving lesson for those who don't seem to understand the lost art of driving, but then when they get their license from a cracker jack box can we expect them to know even the basic principles of driving?! The most important rule that seems to elude everyone, PEDESTRIANS GET THE RIGHT OF WAY! Even if they are doing something stupid. So when you get to a crosswalk with people walking, stop. This used to be common sense (common sense, what’s that?? some may say). Another related point, if you come to a stop sign chances are people could be walking by, or might walk by before you are free to proceed, so stop in front of the sidewalk so pedestrians can walk by without having to walk into traffic. And don’t make a turn into traffic if there is a car coming. I have to slam on my brakes several times a drive because some idiot cuts me off. I don’t really need my car right now and it is paid for so I have no incentive to stop.

One further lesson I would like to share with everyone and this applies to both walking and driving. Here in Canada we walk/drive on the right side of the road, trust me, I verified this before I posted just in case I missed another memo. This simple principle does get confusing when there are multiple lanes both ways, I can understand that, so I will clear things up. Stay in the right most lane and use the left lane(s) to pass. Walking on a sidewalk is a little tougher because there are no lines but if you use the same principle of using the left part of the sidewalk to pass things will be easier. For some reason people don’t seem to understand this and they like to walk into me. I am over six feet and around 300 pounds so I am not going to get the worst of it if someone walks into me.

Hopefully I have educated some people here and I will not have to fear each step I take. Do you think I should bill the Ministry of Transportation for my service here?

Where Has All The Talent Gone?

Wednesday night I turned to the Jays vs Baltimore game and witnessed another brilliant defensive blunder (not quite as bad as the one pictured to the right though). I then began explaining to my wife how Wells' batting average is now going to decrease because of the error instead of staying where it was with a sac fly RBI but to my surprise the "official" scorekeeper had ruled the play a hit. That can't be, the ever so great TV commentator (Jamie Campbell) must have read or heard something wrong so I listened intently for a few more minutes waiting for the correction that never came.

Let me lay out the scenario for those that may not have seen this play. Wells hit the ball fairly well into centre or right centre causing the fielder to "chase it down". So the outfielder jogged towards the wall calmly, stretched his arm out to make a basket catch and missed the ball. How was that not an error? The outfielder had enough time to "settle" under the ball and make the catch instead of trying an ill-advised basket catch. Jamie Campbell even seemed to be slightly surprised that the play was ruled a hit and gave some reasoning he thought might have factored into the scorekeeper's decision. They all seemed to be a stretch.

This type of scenario seems to be happening way too frequently this baseball season. Doesn't anyone understand the game anymore? Or maybe it is I who doesn't understand. To the dictionary! An error in baseball is "A defensive fielding or throwing misplay by a player when a play normally should have resulted in an out or prevented an advance by a base runner." Now let's relate that to the play. Hmmm, preventing a base runner to advance....Wells should have been out not standing at second.
I think it's time to start hiring scorekeepers that actually know the game somewhat. If someone makes a boneheaded play they should be punished for it. Instead of that happening, the pitcher is the one being punished. Shame on the league for allowing such a travesty to happen, especially since they are already on shaky ground with the whole steroid issue. I think it's time for a new commissioner. Sorry Bud, it's time for you to leave.

It's A Seeeecret

For months I have been able to dodge the questions and brush off any insinuations made at work, and trust me the topic has come up very frequently. I sometimes wonder if someone has found out, if someone leaked this information. I then comfort myself in the knowledge that I have only told one person at work and he is way too busy to be "chewing the fat" with too many people. It also doesn't hurt that not too many people even know who he is.

Anyhow, back to the point of this. I have fielded most questions fairly well by not letting on to the big secret. Sometimes I have been forced to flat out lie and that has been hard since I am not good at lying. So far I think my secret is safe, however, I am getting too tired of avoiding questions and being very careful about what I say that I will have to tell. I have not been good at telling people in person (and the people I have told are very close to me) so I decided to use this method of informing my friends at work. I hope I have not offended anyone by not telling them in person but I really don't like the attention that I know will follow (and I can't really find the right words).

I really hope I have built the suspense to beyond tolerable levels. If not, that is fine because I have gotten tired of typing and most of you have likely scrolled down to see the picture already anyhow so you know what is coming. Just remember that I would have told you "cool kids" before now but there are certain other people that I really don't want to know about it too soon because they will give me unwanted advice or mumble other unwanted nonsense.

Well it is time to tell. My wife and I are expecting our first child to be born in mid July (cue the Creed song "Arms Wide Open"). So now those who ask too many questions know what I will be doing with my vacation time so you can quit asking questions. I will leave you with this picture and please use this information wisely.

My Own House???

My wife and I have been renting ever since we met and frankly, I'm sick of it. It really isn't the idea of renting I dislike, after all if anything ever happened to the place we are not the ones shelling out copious amounts of money for repairs, but I am tired of moving every year or two. Packing and unpacking, never really getting settled anywhere.

But now, we have a house of our own (as scary as that may seem). We will be getting the keys on June 23 and I can't wait. It is very exciting but now we have to pack up one more time. The only solace in this is that it will be our last move for at least five years and likely longer. It is going to seem like a mansion to us too after the place we're in now, a very small 2 bedroom bungalow that has a main room that is 12' by 6' (it looked bigger when we looked at it). Our house has 3 bedrooms with one in the basement and has 2-storeys, lots of stairs for the cat. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the house to show but I did find a nice picture of a lighthouse so it adds colour to this post.

So now the dilemma is how to move. We have two choices, hire a moving company to do the move or get some friends to help us move. Either way we are still stuck with the worst part of moving, packing all our junk into little boxes. Let the fun begin!

Oh Canada!

As one of my friends will be traveling to the West coast in the next few months, I am reminded of what a great and diverse country Canada is. I have been to both coasts and have seen many of the wonders Canada has to offer, each region has something unique to it.

For most of my life I thought that Ontario was not as nice as either the East Coast or West Coast and that the province didn't really have much excitement to it, other than Niagara Falls, of course. That is a pretty logical assumption I thought.

The East Coast has miles of coastline (with several lighthouses) and the atmosphere is pretty relaxed. They also have some cool attractions like the reversing waterfall and Magnetic Hill in New Brunswick as well as an engineering marvel in the Confederation Bridge linking PEI with New Brunswick. On the other side of the country is the Rocky Mountains (enough said!). These gigantic pieces of land extend miles into the sky, through the clouds and stop just short of Heaven. The mountain range is probably the most breathtaking thing I have seen in my life.

In comparison with both coasts, Ontario seems pretty lame, doesn't it? All it has is an oversized waterfall. Ah, that is where I am wrong; Ontario has a bit of both coasts. There are some small mountains (they look more like hills after seeing the Rockies though) and several lakes, both great and small, and other such waterways. And don't forget the Welland Canal, another engineering feat that was and still is key to industry in this country.

It has taken many years but I can finally admit that every province, even Ontario, has its own characteristics that make it great. I am still partial to the mountains of the West Coast but I can now say without hesitation that Canada is a great country that has something for everyone.

Sad State of Hockey

I will keep this short. All winter long I have tried to give the NHL a chance but just couldn't find it exciting anymore. Hockey today has no flow or momentum. Just when a team actually starts to get something going the refs call a penalty or two or three. Maybe they feel neglected or something. I am sure many of you will disagree with me and that is fine, to each their own. I did however, keep an eye on the scores just so I could laugh at the Leafs fans. Poor, poor Leafs.

Now that the playoffs are here I was expecting some good hockey but again I was dissappointed. As a prime example of what I am talking about, last night I turned to the Edmonton/Anaheim game and watched it during the commercials of re-runs (yes everybody, I would rather watch re-runs of shows that I have seen several times over than an NHL game right now). So I had the game on for about 30 seconds and there were two penalty calls in that time. I don't know if anyone actually saw the infraction other than the ref either.

Congratulations Bettman, you have officially ruined hockey. Good thing they are still showing poker on tv, because that's a real spectator sport. Ha!

Everyday People

People are Stupid!!!!

Everyday on my way to work I am reminded of the above fact (it is even worse when I do get to work). I don't know why I expect people to actually use their brains, however small it may be, but I do. Is there such a thing a "common sense" anymore??? Sadly, I think not.

Barry Bonds - Hero or Fraud?

As Barry, or is it Mr. Bonds?, tries to hit his 714th career homerun to tie the Babe, there is a lot of negative publicity about him. The media that covers MLB (and those who don't know what a baseball is) has a history of trying to crush players personally when they are close to breaking any records set by Babe Ruth. Baseball is a game and records are made to be broken, similar to laws, so why does the media try to villify people trying to achieve greatness?

In '61 when Maris and Mantle were chasing the single season homerun record (previously held by the Babe), there was an uproar about a longer season. This time around the controversy revolves around a banned substance, steroids. The league knew about the use of steriods for years (at least a decade but probably more) and did nothing about it, in fact they helped the players hide it. After the strike of 1994 (the year the Expos were robbed of their World Series) attendance fell dramatically and the league was in desperate need of some trick to entice the fans to return. Lucky for them a natural born home run hitter named Mark McGwire flirted with 60 home runs in 1996 and 1997 and actually broke the single season home run record with 70 (before Bonds beat that a few years later). These home runs drew people from everywhere, coming out to see McGwire put balls into the Big Mac Land of old Busch Stadium. The league has found it's trick to get the fans back, home runs. Meanwhile, quietly in San Francisco, an aging Barry Bonds jumped on the home run band wagon and started pumping iron (and possibly with a little help) and building muscle. And why not, everyone else started to bulk up too and 32 home runs a season just isn't good enough anymore.

So now the league's attendance started to rise with all these mammoth home runs and the league was starting to blossom. The money started coming in and the league along with the team owners couldn't be happier. But then a question of steroids use in MLB came up and the league denied that there was a problem. MLB was drug free they said. But we all know the reality now. Now that the league has reached, and possibly even surpassed, pre 1994 attendance levels, the steriod use of ball players comes to light.

That brings me to my point...finally. Barry Bonds was one of many players that might have used steriods (I am sure he did but I don't know if there is any solid proof of that so I have to cover my butt) so why do we persecute him alone. After all it is a problem throughout the league isn't it? Ah, but not everyone is about to pass a baseball God on any other all-time list let alone the most sacred. We have to pretend we don't want to see this happen at all, especially by someone who might have used steriods, so the media won't let us forget that. The funny thing of this whole situation is that Babe Ruth isn't on top in career home runs so when Bonds eventually hits home run number 715 he will only be taking over the second spot on the all-time home run list.

So I ask, is Bonds a hero or a fraud? I consider a hero to be someone for us mere mortals to look up to so if Bonds did use illegal drugs then he isn't someone to look up to. So he might not be a hero. If we go by the definition of a hero, then it is possible that he is a hero of baseball. How about a fraud? I doubt that he is a fraud either, he did actually hit the pitches that ended up in McCovey's cove and on the other side of so many other fences in the Major Leagues. His home runs weren't deceptive or a trick, in fact the more recent ones were undisputably home runs. He isn't an imposter either, he really is a baseball player. Not a hero or a fraud then what is he? Just a human being that can hit a round ball with a round bat and do it well. I heard somewhere the hardest thing to do in this world is to hit a round ball with a round bat squarely. Hmmm!

Whatever we classify him as, I still say cudos to him for getting so close to the all-time home run record and giving the baseball world something big to talk about, something that doesn't happen everyday.

The Zebras Are Out Of Control

I really wanted my first post to be about something fun or witty; something to make people think, but unfortunately it is going to be a rant....and it isn't going to be about the striped horses of the picture.

The zebras I am referring to in the title are sports officials. Those men or women who are in charge of keeping the game moving smoothly and ensuring the players are following the rules. They are supposed to blend in to the game and be invisible to the audience. After all people didn't pay way too much money to see a bunch of zebras skate or run around (as much fun as that would be), they can go to the local zoo and see that for $10 or less (maybe a bit more in TO but the difference is worth it). In no way are the officials there to take away from the players or the game itself. Or are they? Did I miss a memo?

A few mistakes here and there are to be expected, they are human after all, but to miss obvious penalties or to call them so lopsided it seems the one team is shorthanded the whole game, is absolutely ludicrous. No professional sport is free from incompetent officials. Take the National Hockey League for the most blatant offence; Saku Koivu, a star player; on a French Canadian team, hmmmmm, gets a stick in the eye and none of the four on ice officials saw it....he was skating towards the net with the puck for heaven's sake. That disgusted me so much I stopped watching hockey.

So I turned to Major League Baseball. I can't cover everything but what is a strike? Apparently it changes from umpire to umpire and can even change for the same umpire in the middle of any given game. The most recent blunder I saw, if you can call missed calls a blunder any more, happened in the White Sox game two weekends ago I believe. A batter was in the middle of a swing and the ball hit him in the chest and was given first base. The thing that the announcers were questioning was whether the batter was able to check his swing. It doesn't matter! From what I recall, correct me if I'm wrong it has been several years since I've played, if a batter is in the motion of swinging and the ball hits him, it is a foul ball. He could have corkscrewed himself or barely taken his bat off his shoulder when the ball hit him, it is still a foul ball.

One last rant and I'll end this post. I went to the NLL championship game and Buffalo was shorthanded ten times compared to Colorado's one. Does that sound right to you? It doesn't to me.

It is time to take the power back and control the zebras before people start going to poker matches instead.