blueAlto

Because you can always use irrelevant and barely interesting factual information about the mundane details of my life....I bring you the five things meme. Actually garnered and appropriated from Antonio's blog, I thought this one actually looked kind of fun.

So, without any further annoying buildup....

What were you doing five years ago?

In 2003, let's see. Professionally, I was working as a critical care flight paramedic and was considering the position in clinical research that I began in 2004. Personally, it was a year before David had the medical allergy disaster that started the downward trajectory. We had also just purchased and moved into our two bedroom condo. Times were very good.

Five Things On My To Do List For Today?

1. Pick up books at the bookstore that are in.
2. Work on a lesson plan for the Monday youth writing workshop I teach.
3. Increase my daily laps in the pool by fifteen minutes.
4. Meet Allison for Japanese (Thursday night tradition for the last year)
   
5. Schedule an annual prostate exam (there is most definitely a reason it is number five - Ick)

Five Favorite Snacks?

1. Cranberry / blueberry granola
2. Blue cheese and crusty bread
3. Pears
4. Grapes
5. Guacamole & Tortilla chips
   

 Five Things I Would Do If I Was A Billionaire?

1. Sleep, for no less than half a year.
2. Give donations in very sizable amounts to my four favorite charities ~ the SPCA, the PEN America Writing Empowerment Project (self awareness and esteem building through literacy), HIV front line care and treatment, breast cancer research.
3. Meet and spend time with every single person who has become a friend through blogging.
4. Get a beach house in the BC channel islands and write the two books that I am entertaining the idea of attempting.
5. Share the wealth generously with good friends and family.

Five Bad Habits?

1. I can sometimes be impatient.
2. I have an excessively critical streak. Though I have become better at channeling that. 
3. I carry a grudge. Manifesting in such a way that if you have screwed me, you will generally try to avoid me.
4. Sometimes out of concern I will offer help when help may not be the best thing to offer.
5. I will often go to great lengths to put off unpleasant tasks. The reason I still have to go through a few of David's closets.

What Are Five Places I Have Lived?

1. Tokyo, Japan
2. Ottawa, Canada
3. LA
4. Usinsk, Northern Russia
5. Toronto, Canada 

Five Jobs I Have Held

1. Lifeguard
2. Ski Patrol
3. Flight Paramedic
4. EMS Clinical Researcher
5. Cultural Studies Instructor 

Five Favorite Items Of Clothes (my own contribution to the meme)

1. A ten year old long sleeve cotton navy polo shirt. Cuffs are thread bare, collar is stretched and ill fitting, and it is the most comfortable shirt I own.
2. Steel blue flannel shirt that I wear as a heavy shirt or fall jacket.
3. Fifteen year old Chocolate brown leather flight jacket from Roots. A Christmas gift from my parents.
   
4. My oldest pair of button fly Levis that have a small patch on the ass made from plaid cotton boxers. Surprisingly they are the best fitting pants I have ever owned. Still!
   
5. Any of my collected or traded paramedic T shirts, or traded rugby team shirts.

Wasn't going to tag anyone, but I have a few new readers and they are the kind of people I would be interested in knowing a bit more about. So, tagging Butch, Jeff from LA, Java and Birdie.  Sorry guys....

 

In retrospect, caution may have been the order of the day. That is, when ordering lunch in a Toronto Tex Mex eatery with a reputation as dubious as it's name, Henando's Hideaway, one would do best to avoid the mussels. The way I am feeling today makes me think I spent the entire lunch hour licking that dirty Hernando's ass! Rude, yes, but oh so true.

So at home I sit, popping immodium, tums, and eating brick cheese, in the futile attempt to bind me up and prevent by the re-enactment of the title of this post, occurring like clockwork at fifteen minute intervals. As if that wasn't enough, I still have no phone, as a gardening accident gone out of control with a digging machine has rendered my entire building without phone lines. Since last Thursday. No, I am not impressed. And yes, I am saying what I swore I would never say. Tomorrow, I'm getting a fucking cell phone.

We hope you have enjoyed this update from Al's bowels, and that you come back soon.

I have always been a fan of Ann Richards, that big haired and equally big mouthed former governor from Texas. When I say big mouthed, I am in no way saying it as a pejorative; the woman always spoke her mind and I had great respect for her. Time and time again, this unabashedly liberal woman's opinions hit the mark.

The following is something I came across when looking for daily quote inspiration. As you will read, it was too good to simply be a daily quote, so it has become today's post. Enjoy.

 

Had a conversation with my mother this afternoon that was very surprising, and in many ways, supremely touching. Discussing my parents plans for Mothers Day, the discussion eventually worked its way into some generalities on the day we culturally celebrate mothers.

A day that in the past, as well as today, would always see me remember mom with a card, flowers, and phone call, no matter where I was in the world. Two hours away in Montreal, or half a world away working in Sudan. Happy to say that I never forgot one of those days, though there were times it had been close.

So it was more than surprising to hear the things that mom remembered as central to her experience of that day. It certainly hasn't been the cards and flowers. And actually, not even the phone calls. Strangely enough, it was one card, sent three years ago. One I had completely forgot about.

In December of 2006, our family celebrated my mothers graduation with a BA in Canadian Social Justice Theory, from The University Of Ottawa. For several reasons, it was a very special day. Mom had always been a socially active woman, and had been a crisis nurse prior to my birth. Though after that event, her focus was nowhere else, and she was first and foremost, in every way, a stay at home mother. I couldn't have asked for better parenting, and she does not regret a day of doing that. But as so often happens, when her reality became one of this only child leaving home, my mother came to the startling realization that somewhere along the way, she had somehow lost who she was.

The card that I gave my mother on Mothers Day three years ago, the one prior to her graduation, had a simple message.

Dear Mom,

Happy Mothers Day to a woman I am proud to say is in every way a wonderful mother, and at the same time so many other things, above and beyond "my mother".  As your son, the integration of those two realities is what I am the most proud of.

Love,

Al 

Interesting isn't it, these small things we don't give a second thought to. Often they are the ones that others seem to never forget.

To all the mothers out there, happy mothers day. You are everything a mother is, and so much more. 

It's fat-free, comes in a ton of flavors, and it's for ... dogs.

Introducing "Dogissimo" — an ice cream created specifically for canines. Which, as of this weekend, has gone on sale at my local high end coffee shop.

Sitting on the enclosed patio at Terez, the Yorkville coffee shop and bistro, Allison and I had blood orange smoothies, while Singher had a one cup serving of Mint Mutt - evidently her favorite, as she passed on the Snicker Poodle.  Judging by the way she attacked her cup of the green stuff, and is now sporting a fashionable green moustache, this new find has the potential to become a hit during the dog days of summer.

Just a quick update to ask that if anyone has any problems reading the site in any specific browsers, just drop me a line and I'll take a look. Yes, I have changed the site design, yet again. For the most part the changes are very small in nature, and you shouldn't find any major differences in your reading experience.

I decided on more of an old typewriter look for the style of the pages, which is supposedly more user friendly from a readers experience. Or so says my latest inspiration, Elements Of Minimalist Style: web designers discuss form.

Thanks in advance.

 

It's when I realize that scenes like the above are not the exception, but the rule, that I am thankful I live where I live. From our front door, Singher and I are a five minute walk away from a ravine home to all manners of wildlife.

Five minutes in the other direction, a scenic walk to the heart of downtown Toronto. On our walks, Singher and I will often see many like the cute cub above. Who, I have decided, we will call Whitebeard.

When in Toronto, and you decide for entirely boring reasons that do not merit explanation, to sprain your thumb, do not:

• spend upwards of ten hours in an emergency department only to be told by a resident, who looks all of eleven years old, "Oh the triage nurse should have told you, we don't do hands here".
  

For the sake of good taste, I will refrain from including my response to that bit of trivia.

Welcome to Sunday Brunch, your plentiful weekly buffet of various forms of literate head cheese. A little earlier than Sunday dinner was last week, but  I actually do have plans tonight, so hey, we adjust accordingly. In thinking of what to offer you for snippets for the coming week, I could only really think of one. Because for the most part, it's what has occupied a lot of time as of late....

The Multi Venue, Multi Author, Fiction Blog Project 

I am hopeful that this rather ambitious attempt at a story, short story, novel, potential Hollywood block buster, will have made its debut by this time next week. Working intently with co blogger on the project, he will make an appearance on the scene after we hash out a few more things with regard to just where we are going to go with this. The planning, and writing, have been immensely fun and have fueled some pretty high quality creative sessions. So, we'll see. Both of us are really looking forward to this. Maybe even in the coming week. Just call us the genre breakers (or anything else within reason....)

Three Observations:

Todays fluffy but savoury appetizers, include some things I noticed on a Saturday afternoon window shopping spree. In one of my overly analytical mind sets, (happens occasionally) and so I began noticing many of the slogans used by stores and condo developments as Allison and I were doing some afternoon window shopping on Bloor. If I had to coin a diagnosis for those writing the adds of late, bi polar would certainly top the list. And in our first example, so would garden variety nonsensical.

Example #1.  Walking past Holt Renfrew, the high end department store in Toronto, we caught a glimpse on one of the TV monitors of Karl Lagerfeld, the flamboyant old queen with the ever present fan, describing his winter 2008 collection.

"....my inspiration for the couture is from and also for, how you say, you say woman, da woman...you know...I love woman, and my costumes can show da mother, da actress, corporation woman, da whore, and how you say, da bag lady with all layers...."

Allison hit what I would say, was the exact note: "Precious needs to stick to simply holding his fan and pretending to be coy".

Example #2.  Slightly bipolar. Actually Allison pointed this one out and I agreed, saying they really need to hire  a new slogan writer. This was an almost completed condo project with less than anticipated sales to date. Here's the add.

The Avalon. So inclusive, so exclusive. Refined elegance, subtle undertones. Home: the art of knowing someone wants you there.

Then comes the smaller print at the bottom of the add. Demonstrated social connections, references, panel interview required.

Yeah, really has "someone wants you there" written all over it doesn't it?

Example #3.  I'm calling it "switching gears just a little too fast".

The Blue Moon Cafe is new, rumored to be serving really good food. Below is the add.

Stop by the Blue Moon for some true comfort food with a twist of elegance. Enjoy a cozy table for two by the fireplace, or linger over a great bottle of red. The Blue Moon: creating the quiet memories of our lives.

A little overdone, but not bad, right?  Not so fast; this was the caption, "Come Party With Us" 

Who is hiring these people? 

In My Humble Opinion

Before going down this particular arc, I just have to say that lately, this whole "sex positive" feminism thing, or more specifically, what sex positivism means today, is beginning to work my last fucking nerve. Sex positivism, when it first originated as a specific ideology of feminist theory, was a movement that had a fundamental desire to artistically express sexuality as it was truly experienced in the lives of women, and in the lives of those for whom mainstream representation did not exist, and when it did, existed only as fetish. It was a movement that clearly had valid, progressive, if not somewhat lofty goals.

Over the years the sex positive movement has, for the most part, become nothing more than a highly marketed Disneyfied version of mainstream porn, aggressively geared for the "But I'm not a feminist," and post feminist set. Those who view any suggestion that they are not the exact picture of feminine charm, as threatening, and those who hold the simplistic assumption than by virtue of calling it empowering, then any sexual choice, uhm, IS! Like Magic!  If only....

Though taking this through to sunshine for all on the other side, all one has to do, is spend some time reading Susie Bright. A woman who was integral to the development of the ideology and philosophy of the original sex positive movement. Her blog has long been a daily read, and every time I go there I know I will be met by a wide variety of political and cultural commentary, always intersected through her unique, sexually based take on the issue of the day. And though we  split paths on some issues, on the whole, Susie Bright is on of my favorite daily reads. In picking out a post to include with the recommendation, I could not stop at just one.

Because for as much as she is right on spot, hilariously funny, and sometimes, completely fucking out there, Susie can be intensely eloquent. So in every recommendation of Susie Bright that I offer, I always include something that fits her irreverent style, but also the one post that for me, hits all of the strangely divergent emotional landscapes she was brave enough to confront when feminism lost one of its most solid founders, Andrea Dworkin. 

So in closing, I bring you Egg Sex, Susies in depth and personally specific take on the apparently not so mutually exclusive domains of pregnancy and horniness. And for a beautiful read as well as strangely appropriate tribute, Andrea Dworkin Has Died. Sharp, passionate writing, all of it.

Actually this one is kind of cool. Gavin at Why oh Why has tagged me for the "Four Things meme". I would normally give him endless grief, though he has just celebrated his 1000'th blog post, so I figured I'd give the boy a break. Besides, he has really nice eyes. I'm a sucker for baby blues....

Four Jobs I Have Had In My Life

• Lifeguard
• Swim Coach
• Flight Paramedic
• Public Health Researcher
  

Four Movies I Would Watch / Have Watched Over And Over

• Harold and Maude
• The Boys In The Band
• Short Cuts
• The Garden Of The Finzi Continis
  

Four Places I Have Lived

• Tokyo, Japan
• Jasper, Canada
• Usinsk, Russia
• Montreal, Canada
  

Four TV Shows That I Watch

• Law & Order (original)
• The Fifth Estate
• Mash reruns
• The Young & The Restless (since I was five)
  

Four Places I Have Visited

• New Zealand
• France
• Tibet
• Chille
  

Four People Who Email Me Regularly

• Bruce
• Tate
• Allison
• Karen
  

Four Favorite Foods

• Anything Japanese
• Grilled eggplant sandwiches
• Pears
• Granola
  

Four Places I Would Like To Be Right Now

• London
• Jasper
• Hiking
• Flying anywhere
  

Four Things I Am Looking Forward To This Year

• Sean & Jeffrey coming in June
• London this summer
• A potential new work venture
• Getting published
  

For this meme I'm going to tag two bloggers and two people who comment often but don't keep blogs themselves. Feel free to post in the comments section with as lengthy an entry as you desire. Jack Nasty and Maine Gay are the bloggers, and Didi and redzog are the lucky commenters.

Getting back into daily writing is proving more difficult than I originally thought. Apologies for the lack of frequency. Hopefully the weekend will give me some added downtown to catch up on sleep, rest, and other, uhm, necessities of daily life.

Though in the meantime, I leave you with this classic scene from the movie Almost Famous. A simple, heartwarming example of enduring friendship and unspoken support, this scene resonates with me when I think of my own close group of friends; real, virtual or otherwise. Thanks, all of you. 

 

In my life thus far, I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I have been left complexly speechless. After my experience of an hour ago, I can add another to the list.

Walking east on Bloor, just before Bay St. I was glancing in the window of the Izod store when, BOOM, I walk straight into a woman briskly walking west. Startled, I was about to get a tad pissy, when I realize I have walked into none other than one of the hands down musical legends of my entire existence.

Looking collected, oh so cool, and beyond earthly elegant in only the way she can, Margo Timmins, clad in torn Levis and a tan sheepskin coat, smiles, apologizes, rubs my shoulder, and effortlessly carries on with her day.

I can die a happy man.

For those of you saying "Margo who"? This is for you.

Enjoy....

In the fall of 2001, when David and I bought the apartment that I now call home, there were many reasons that it was a very bad idea. One, the housing market in Toronto was definitely not on side of the buyer. Two, the apartment, a 1940's walk up that had just been gutted and renovated, was located in Rosedale, Toronto's most expensive area. The price was, no matter how we looked at it, out of our range.

Though the reasons to buy it were many. A five minute walk from the downtown core, and a twenty minute walk to the center of the university campus, the location was perfect. The day that we toured the suite and walked out onto the balcony, we both seemed to know we would find a way to make it work.

At 1900 square feet, the top floor two bedroom end unit apartment was huge, and the balcony that ran from one end of the suite to the other ran the entire length of the south end of the building. The view was one that faced into the deep and lush Rosedale Valley ravine. Standing on the balcony in the fall breeze, we could make out easily a family of coyotes between some ravine trees.

"What do you think"? I asked, speaking to no one in particular.

"Sold", was the definitive response that came from David as he gazed at the four legged family in the distance.

It was the only response I needed to hear. An hour later, documents signed, we began to plan how we would manage this very impulsive decision. And luckily, things simply fell into place. This past Friday marked the day I wrote the last check on the mortgage.

While going through photos earlier today, I came across the above picture of the east end of our balcony, and I was reminded how happy I am that we took a risk and followed through with what we knew we wanted. Judging by the picture below of Singher resting on the same balcony mid summer, I think someone else also agrees with the decision.

 

Before getting into today's post, I offer a quick update, as well as a small tidbit.

First an update:

Al will be back to full posting on Friday, as at the moment he is part of a larger support circle for a neighbor and friend who are grieving a loss. Many of you know the particulars in this situation and there will be an update on the private site later this afternoon. I'm also pleased to confirm for you, that no, Al has not been arrested, nor has he fled the country.

I mention that, since as of eight am this morning, over fifty of you had asked the question in an email. For the record, and to keep the drama queen vibe at bay, when picking up a friends son from school, a misunderstanding occurred, and for a few short moments Al's responsibility for the child was questioned. His expected supervision was then appropriately confirmed without incident. And then they all went for ice cream! Well okay, I'm not sure if that's true, but really, it was nothing more dramatic than the above.

A Tidbit:

The conclusion to the plagiarism / gay male appropriation story is set to post in the morning on Friday. Having taken a peak I will say that the final response to the situation is both funny in a gut splitting way, and a bit more nuanced than I expected. It is definitely a thoughtful piece.

The comment thread for yesterdays article was interesting. Interesting in the sense that any discussion around the late left wing activist and feminist author Andrea Dworkin, will always contain two elements. One, there will always be misquotes. Andrea Dworkin is the most misquoted author, as well as the most misunderstood feminist author of her time. The second thing that occurs in any discussion about Dworkin and her theories, is a long, detailed and completely inappropriate analysis of her weight, looks and manner of dress.

My intention is not to continue that self defeating discussion here. Instead, we are going with much lighter fare. But first, I'm going to advance the radical concept that maybe Ms. Dworkin selected her fashion choices on what she felt at home and comfortable in, vs. what our media and consumer driven culture had told her she needed to dress up in, so she could be worthy of snagging a man.

Turning the lens back on oneself this time, what is that you wear that gives you the most confidence, or makes you feel sexy, or gives you that grounding comfort of being in your own skin? The outfit that is most quintessentially you, is what I'm looking for here.

I'll go first. If those who know me were asked to describe what they see me in most often, it would have to be something that included long, clingy but never tight skirts, usually worn with sandals, a ballet top, and more often than not, several strands of unique and interesting beads, no doubt purchased from a street vendor in Mexico or somewhere in the craft markets of Toronto. Simple, light, not a lot of fuss, but still something that isn't the female, thirty something daily uniform. That would be the "look" that is most like me.

How about you?

In answer to the question "wasn't there a post here yesterday and now it's gone"? Why yes, there was a post that has since been taken down. For no other reason than I may be exercising a few legal options in regard to what occurred, and to make the strongest case possible, I need to keep the events off the online circuit. Period.

I will state very clearly, the situation I was involved in is one that did not need to occur, and the options I may pursue legally are ones that are justifiable and publicly supported. Beyond that, there is nothing else that I will discuss. I do go into more specific detail in a private, user access controlled posting. If you are known to me, and have left more than one comment on this site, I will gladly grant access for you to view the posting. Simply drop me an email.

Thanks in advance for your understanding. 

Since getting the Singher all clear report, and finishing up the chemo last week, my crazy dog is doing much better and seems to have finally returned to her old self.

Whether that is entirely positive and normal, is yet to be seen. Please remember, there is a reason she is called the insane canine. "Old self" and "normal" are relative terms, all things considered.

Though one difference I did notice in my normally mild mannered, albeit eccentric dog, was that what is hers is now hers, and what is mine, is now hers as well. After a burst of energy unexpectedly hit this afternoon, I was vacuuming the living room (doesn't happen often), when I noticed my small, stuffed Winnie The Pooh in a pile of severely chewed squeaky toys. The pile that is meant to indicate impending surgical intervention or perhaps trash bin. And there, not a mark on him, sat Winnie.

Strange, as that specific bear sits on my desk in the den which Singher never goes near unless I'm sitting at it attempting to do something besides pet her. So why would this Winnie (she has her own Winnie), the one she has never given a second glance to, be in the middle of the island (heap) of misfit (severely traumatized) toys? As I said, around here, normal is a relative term. Without thinking, I pick up the misplaced bear and plop him back on the side of my desk. Which, obviously he must have fallen from.

Yeah, right. Literally minutes ago, Singher walks into the den, sits down at my feet, looks at me then at Winnie, stands up, paws on my leg, and grabs my little, yellow bear, making a quick dash out of the den, no doubt headed for the island of misfit toys. I think we may just have to have that talk about respect and acceptable boundaries again. Because it obviously worked so well the last time.

 

Since last years Valentines Day was infinitely better than this years is turning out to be (single, horny, behind on a writing assignment), I offer the following amusing tale from a year ago.

Happy V Day everyone.

From V Day, 2007:

Perhaps it's my visceral aversion to the combination of pink and red. When those two shades are put together, I'm lost in a haze of eye splitting pain. That would be my less than half baked attempt to explain why February 14, Valentines Day, is a day that I'm quite certain I could do without.

Read more....

Thought that might get your attention. In a brief rant that is written in a style to no doubt piss a few of you off, the message is simple, and one that is not that hard to both comprehend, and then apply to ones own life.

This morning, when leaving my gym after working out, I came across two of the pool lifeguards in the front lobby dealing with a medical emergency. As I know them, and as they know my background, and as I could see the situation was potentially extremely serious, I asked them if they required help. They graciously replied that yes, they did require help.

From that experience, as well as many others, let me offer the following simple, though seemingly complicated, unsolicited advice to the "well meaning" public. When you come upon an emergency situation, and you decide to unselfishly donate your time and extraordinary skill, please consider the following points first.

If, let's say, the situation happens to be a woman having an epileptic seizure, and the situation is being effectively managed by two lifeguards, and an individual who bears a great resemblance to this author who is a critical care flight paramedic, your effort would be best spent asking if you could be of assistance. Something that if you had ever taken a first aid or CPR training course, you would know without me telling you.

If the situation is being managed effectively, we will most likely engage your offer of help by asking you to keep all the well intentioned but annoying bystanders back.

The following would be considered annoying bystanders:

• The "doctor" who insists on taking over care. If I ask you your speciality, and you inform me you are a proctologist, pediatric psychiatrist, philosophy PhD, or something else completely unrelated to emergency medicine: Please don't be surprised and offended if I tell you something similar to the title of this piece. Because if you had taken a first aid course, or CPR training, or you are in fact a physician with a semblance of a fucking clue, you would realize this is not your forte. It is mine. Now go.
  
• The concerned citizen who asks if the injured person "is cold", are they "retarded because they are drooling", or "does she have a right to be touching her like that". The answer in these cases, every time, will be "thank you but your help is not required, now please go away". If you don't, I will make sure you are arrested for being a nuisance. Yes I am serious, and yes, I have done it before. Because when two people are doing CPR, because the situation has worsened, your concern is not only untimely, it is life threatening to the patient.
• Assuming you are someone who does not have ego or concern issues that override cardiac arrest, your assistance in keeping the above individuals out of my way would be greatly appreciated. All lifeguards, paramedics, police officers, firefighters, individuals with CPR and first aid training who know what they are doing, will thank you for the help.