Quick Thoughts about My Baby Sister

Just some quick thoughts this morning - on the occasion of the birthday of my youngest sister - because I really have to get working...

1. My sister - let's call her J. - is the first Senior ever in the history of the world who runs the risk of being carded. 
2. J is the biggest Toronto sports fan ever, but only if you measure bigness in terms of the gap between normal demeanour, and the demeanour during and after losses. (The worse they do, demeanour she gets).
3. J and I grew up eating from only the four food groups (peanut butter and jam, hamburgers and hot dogs, chicken, and dessert). I grew up. (To be fair, I think she eats salad too now).
4. When J and I were little, we were the two most innocent, straight-laced, naive, optimistic young souls, who believed only in the goodness of the world. Then a woman (for whom I will use a pseudonym), Mrs. Purlander, showed up and showed us otherwise.
5. J got her driver's license in her 40's and her Masters in her 50's. Maybe she'll learn how to go through a meal without spilling her drink in her 60's?
6. J cared so much about me that when she felt she was getting too old to supervise me anymore, she decided it best to marry my Camp Counsellor so he could help.
7. Most of the times she's two years older than me, but for two-and-a-half months every year, she's three years older. It's during these precious 7 or 8 weeks that I usually like to gloat about her advanced age and my relative youth. This year - and for the next 2+ - there are many places that recognize her as a "Senior" but exclude me from that group. Looking forward to that.
8. J is my very oldest friend in the world (and by oldest, I mean longest-standing - she's only top 5 in terms of oldest oldest). She sets the bar high in terms of aging gracefully, staying young on the surface and even younger at heart, and being 100% genuinely the same person she's always been. No artifice. No "airs" (but 3 heirs). No b.s. J is J and always will be.

Happy J-day!

Love your baby brother.

David and Family at Home with Nature

As most of you know, we moved this year. 

The biggest difference between the old house and the new house is that we now have a bigger backyard surrounded by mature trees and bushes, a beautifully landscaped (by someone else) garden, and a screened-in back porch where we can enjoy the wonders of nature.

For the first time in forever, my wife and I can sit outside in the morning (sometimes) enjoying coffee/tea in the fresh air, toil together in the garden (even more sometimes), and sit in the back having a robust, outdoor meal without an onslaught of flies, bees, and mosquitoes. 

Out little oasis...or so I thought.

The problem is that with all these back-to-nature highlights come back-to-nature animals. Which isn't so much a problem in itself, except that it turns out that I married Elmer Fudd. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Foxes

A forgettable Jodie Foster movie from 1980, and a mid-spring appetizer for our summer of critters.

One morning shortly after we moved in, my wife texted me some photos of a gorgeous fox family that had made our home their home. They had a den in the back shrubbery, birthed a youngster, taught it to hunt and eventually moved on.

My wife took it all in stride, had an animal removal company over to analyze the situation, found out they were mostly harmless (and would move on) and then basically accepted them as co-inhabitants.

They were beautiful, kept a respectful distance, and except for the small risk of them eating our ex-Neighbours' dog who occasionally visited, were mostly harmless.

Wow. Nature is so cool.

Mice

The old owners had a few traps near where they kept the garbage, so we basically suspected there must be some mice about. Every now and then, one of the foxes would show up with a little mouse snack-pack in its jaws, so they were definitely earning their keep.

And after the foxes moved on, we didn't really see any...except one, living a meagre existence inside the walls of an outdoor shed (more about that shed later). And he only showed his face when the flood waters occasionally arose in the area of the shed.

But the wife wanted him gone, and so I bought a few traps (the kind that hide all the killing stuff inside), loaded them with cheese, and they've been sitting there un-sprung ever since. No sign of little Mickey, and no problem for David so far.

But then came the...

Squirrels and Chipmunks

Who can hate squirrels and chipmunks? Right? They're so cute and fluffy. They sing wonderful little ditties in high-pitched voices. They scurry and scrounge and dart this way and that. They have big round eyes and tiny little faces.

Well, they also like climbing our screens. And (according to Elmer) they want to climb the screens so they can nest inside our outside ceiling and chew on wires, take infectious little craps, make infectious little babies crawling with germs, and do all manner of ill deeds.

One day, I came home and all the screens were up (meaning no bug-free meals). Why? Because the f***ing chipmunks had been discovered ascending the screens and disappearing into the top. The animal removal guy (him again) said they'd destroy our porch 'fer sher' (he actually said it that way) if we didn't do something - and for a start, raising the screens was the something.

The 8-year-old became Elmer's alarm system, screaming an alert whenever one of these cute little critters showed their cute little face. Then Elmer would come charging from wherever she happened to be in the house, broom in hand, waving it madly at the by-then absent critter.

She spoke of buying one of those tiny spy cams and mounting it at the top of the screen to see what they were up to in the ceiling. We bought a plastic owl to scare them off (which didn't work and probably made us the laughing stock of the critter kingdom). And we spent weeks alternating between screens-up and screens-down.

For all you animal advocates out there, you'll be happy to know that Elmer never got herself a little shotgun, though I'm pretty sure I missed the chance for the best anniversary gift ever if I had bought her something of that ilk.

They're still doing it. Our screens still go up whenever we see one. And even as recently as yesterday, the middle child gloriously and mockingly ran after a cute little squirrel with a deeply disturbing bellow and lots of hand-waving (by the middle child, not the squirrel) and we all laughed about it. Except Elmer, who appreciated the support.

Raccoons

Ever heard of a raccoon latrine? Look it up...it's a thing. And we have one.

Remember my post about a late-night encounter with a threesome of raccoons on the roof of our little outdoor shed? And they guff they gave me when I asked them to go? Turns out they weren't just there hanging out one night. No, no, no. They were there pooping to their little hearts' delight.

At the time of this writing, I am quite intimately familiar with their poops. I could describe them to you in great detail, but I won't. I will just tell you that we tried several things to deter them (including the owl) and nothing worked (For example, the owl ended up on the ground, with the threat "DONT F WIT ROCKY" carved in its face by tiny claws).

We bought these spiky plastic strips (that appeared on Dragon's Den) and I crawled onto the roof and screwed them down in a zig-zaggy pattern thinking "who would want to poop while standing on a spiky plastic strip?" We got a single little "F You" poop between strips on the first night, then a symphony of poops on the next few nights -- a veritable chorus of disdain -- each poop carefully placed in the two-inch gaps between zig-saggy spiky plastic strips.

So just this weekend, I put up chicken wire, moved the spiky plastic strips to the top of the adjoining fence, and so far - one night now - no poops.

Too soon to declare victory? I THINK NOT.

Dead Bird

One showed up a few mornings ago, out on the deck in peaceful respite, lying on its side. We tried to pay the 8-year-old to don rubber gloves, pick it up and dispose of it. She accepted the assignment, then got cold feet just before executing the plan. So Daddy had to step up and save the day. I did, with astonishing calm and remarkable courage. 

Then, I went inside to eat some Swiss Chalet.

---

So far, Elmer has basically done no harm to nature but has given a few animals a good laugh. She hates raccoons and squirrels and chipmunks with a passion that I find strangely alluring. 

Me, on the other hand...I put down two mousetraps and picked up one dead bird. By my reckonin' (as the animal removal guy would say) that makes me the true hero of the summer.

But Elmer -- you keep hunting. Your time will come.

Reflections on a DC Vacation

Four-fifths of my little family went to DC for a short vacation last week (the eldest is on a long-term vacation called "School in Vancouver" and couldn't join us).

Besides having a really great time, eating amazing food, surviving a minor Airbnb mis-step (don't ask), dining with a cherished local camp friend and her husband, exploring some wonderful museums, and spending tons of high quality moments as a (four-fifths) family -- I found myself genuinely moved by several experiences on the visit. That's what I want to dig into here.

Let me start with the punchline: The world needs more America.

That is to say, the world needs the strong and united America that was idealized by its Founding Parents. It may never have existed except as the dream of some truly visionary people a few hundred years ago, but boy does the world need what they were preaching and what's there, carved in stone, on their monuments...

Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." 

Lincoln: "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal..."  

Lincoln: "With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan – to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations."

Standing at Lincoln's knee and reading his words was profoundly moving; especially so after a very long walk on a hot day passing war memorials, homeless people, families with frisbees, the Capitol Building and Washington Monument at our backs - thirsty, tired, and at the top of a grand stone stairway; it was like all of that was a ritual cleansing to prepare us for the reminder of what the US is supposed to be about, and we deeply felt it. (And we're Canadian, for God's sake.)

Likewise for the Jefferson Memorial - the grandeur of the monument and the simple clarity of the words "...all men are created equal..."

What happened? How can people revere these individuals and what they stood for and be so deaf to their messages?

John Adams was 'making sense' centuries ago on these questions:

"The essence of a free government consists in an effectual control of rivalries" and "Remember, democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts, and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide."

But why?

My wife and middle-daughter went to the Holocaust Museum; the younger one and I went to the Spy Museum instead (which by the way, was the best museum I've ever been in for kids). The ponderous silence of the usually garrulous duo spoke volumes when we met up afterwards: How? Why? And how can the world not have learned?

Between these overpowering moments, we saw live music, ate amazingly un-American meals (that is to say light and elegant), played games, shopped and walked the city. And then my wife and baby went home, leaving me and the middle one alone together for two more days in the city.

That's when we took in the art galleries. And boy, did I underestimate the impact of that. (Highly regretful that we didn't bring the 8-year-old there because of my childhood perception that art is boring - which is not to say that Art, my father, is anything of the sort).

Layered on top of those reminders of the American Dream, the stark reality of homeless people and the privileged sharing the same parks and spaces, and the monuments to recent and long-ago war-to-end-all-wars wars - the art packed a punch that was completely unexpected: Modern art and artists delivering their messages about war, peace, love, and everything in between - and in a few cases inviting the observer into the delivery of messages (the wishing tree, the "My Mommy is Beautiful" wall); and all the artists who came before, who lived in very different times and saw the world with very different eyes - whether soldiers in the trenches or painters in the employ of a royal court - delivering their messages loud and clear from long ago... it all made sense in the context of the week's experience.

These people - the artists and the Presidents - they stood for something and stood up for something. They faced people who told them not to do what they were doing, and they did it anyways. They had the courage to believe in something and act accordingly. They changed the rules. They lived and died and are remembered because of what they left behind. And all the little things that dragged them down in their day-to-day are long forgotten. Why does it bug me so much when I'm cut off in traffic?

So I leave Washington intending to be a better, more focused person at work and at home.

And I leave wondering how the country with such an evocative and expressive capital city, and such a deep and obvious love of its history, its Founders' ideals, art, music, food... how that country can be so far astray today, in a world that needs it so badly to get back on track?

Why can't that country stop treating its political system as if it's Friday Night Texas high school football and you must cheer for one team and despise the other? Why can't they find it within themselves to fight together, instead of against each other, for their ideals?

As one lady said to my 22-year-old (on a DC Ducks tour no less), paraphrased: "It's up to your generation. You have the power and the means to fix it. You just have to do it."

But that's passing the buck a little (or a lot). We all have the power and the means. These are our times. The mandate of building a better world is in our hands. The accountability for doing what's right lies with us right now, and not our ancestors or the generations to come.

The world isn't a reality tv show we're all watching. We're the authors, we're the producers, we're the artists, we're the leaders, ... and we should find the will to act accordingly.

Thank you, DC (of all places!), for the reminder.

Mental Purge

Every now and then, I just have to purge things from my brain. This is one of those times.

Begin purge...

During the dark ages, there were probably a lot of sleepless knights. 

Would we still think ill of hyenas if they were called "chipmunks" or "bunnies"? 

I miss the sound of a couple of pennies jingling in my pocket, but that's just my two-cents' worth. 

I forgive everyone who has ever farted in my presence - what's past is past. 

I wonder if flies have a saying: "What happens on flypaper stays on flypaper". 

In food, tasteless is the same as bland, but in words and deeds, tasteless and bland are very different things. 

One can't own the sky, but Ione Skye (when you're purging, you can say anything). 

I'm still angry about the time that guy got Pringles crumbs all over my shoulder. 

What's the right way to rub someone? 

I'm 52, which is exactly how many cards there are in a deck (if I were playing with a full one). 

I wouldn't be caught dead as a zombie or a vampire. 

Why are you coming to my mall to shop for trend-forward clothing, shoes, handbags, accessories and more? Your Guess is as good as mine.

...End Purge 

If You Make a Noise Outside Your Middle Daughter's Bedroom

 With apologies to Numeroff and Bond...and based on a true story...

I Found a Time Machine Yesterday

I found a time machine yesterday.

I hopped inside and set the dial as far back as it would go,
which was only as far as the day I was born,
And where I went first.

I saw my mother and father and three sisters rejoicing at the birth of a boy.
(At last a boy!) A family of six, with four kids under 8.
What were they thinking?

I set the dial ahead to 1969, when I was just starting school,
And our first year in Toronto (North York really).
The first times I myself remember, always happy and carefree.

Next I went to 1977, my first summer away at camp.
Amazing times, blissfully happy times of enormous growth,
With more friends than I could count and a new taste of freedom.

On to the day at university when I met my wife.
No, not that day exactly - the one where we walked for hours in the snow holding hands.
So happy to have found someone, and so ignorant that I had found someone.

Which pushed me on to my wedding day in 1989.
What took so long, and why did we marry so young?
Everyone around us happy, none more than us.

To a blizzard in 1992 and the birth of our first daughter.
I thought I knew joy before, but nothing next to this.
She stole my heart with her first breath.

To New Years 1995 and the wee hours of the morning;
The birth of our second and an exponential leap in happiness.
All the pieces in place for the rest of my life.

Until we changed our mind in 2008 (a moment I peeked in on),
And told the girls (another blissfully happy visit),
And had our third in 2009.

I lingered at that moment, with all of us in the delivery room
(two hiding behind the bathroom door),
As much joy in that moment as all the others combined.

And then I set the dial as far ahead as it would take me,
Which was only to yesterday, when I found the time machine.
It won't let me see into my future until I get there myself.

As I think back today, I see that I'd only stopped at the happy times,
The shiny and irresistible happy times,
Not bothering with those that weren't,

And now, with no time machine to carry me ahead,
There will be times of joy, but no power to stop there,
And there will be times that aren't, with no power to skip them.

Advancing in time, one second at-a-time,
Every moment mine to experience once, whether I want to or not,
And to relive forever, if I choose.

In the time machine I found yesterday.

Chronicles of the Elevator

Growing up, my Dad's vast library included many, many amazing reads. One of my favourites was "Chronicles - News of the Past", which (from the description on Amazon):

RETELLS THE ANCIENT, HALLOWED STORY OF THE BIBLE AS IF IT WERE HAPPENING TODAY - OR, TO PUT IT ANOTHER WAY, AS IF THE ANCIENTS HAD BEEN IN POSSESSION OF ALL THE FACILITIES AND KNOW-HOW CONNECTED WITH THE PRODUCTION OF A MODERN NEWSPAPER!


As I rode the elevator up to work this morning, I read a news item on Captivate Elevator Media (their mission: "to elevate the workday for 10+ million professionals by providing valuable, entertaining information through lobby and elevator media screens in premier office buildings that connects them to their world outside the office.") The news item was about Hard Rock unveiling their $375 million plans for Taj Mahal. Given that at first glance I thought it was talking about the Taj Majal (as opposed to the casino), it made me realize how truncated news-at-a-glance-that-fits-a-tiny-screen can easily omit important details.

Which brings me to today's whimsical exploration of ancient, hallowed stories from the Bible as told in elevator news. Here goes...

Creation:

God Creates Earth in six Days

From formless and desolate to fully ready for humankind in six days. Human beings, male and female, left in charge. God is pleased and is now resting.

Exodus:

Israelites hastily leave Egypt for Promised Land

Moses leads his people to freedom and parts Red Sea to escape pursuing Egyptians. They are expecting a long walk and carrying little more than flatbreads.

Noah:

Noah and Family Escape Flood in Largest Ship Ever Built

"Crazy Noah" vindicated as massive floods destroy civilization. The 300x50x30 cubit vessel sails off with Noah, his family, and many animals safely on-board. Overcrowded stalls force unicorns and dragons to stay behind

David and Goliath:

Brave Boy Overcomes Odds to Defeat Giant 

David 'rocks' Goliath to secure unexpected victory against long odds. Slingshot sales soar.

Jonah:

Whale Eats Prophet, Then Pukes 

Jonah the Prophet, cast overboard by superstitious crew mates and swallowed by a large whale, is found alive and well, covered in whale bile. The whale is later caught and slaughtered, its meat sold without prophet.