Timmy the Turkey says "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Maybe it is just me (and some times it is), but has anyone ever noticed that our historical "Christian" holidays have been, over the past few decades, usurped by make-believe gift-giving placeholders?

Yes, I would be referring to good ol' jolly Santa Claus, and that cute little Easter bunny.  What were once events to glorify the Son of God in celebrating His birth, and then His death and resurrection, are now replaced (at least in our Western culture) by materialistic idols resplendent in food, candy, and mass consumer purchasing.

Which leads me to this thought:  What about Thanksgiving?  Now obviously Thanksgiving is not a Christian holiday... but rather a country's holiday in historical celebration and remembrance.  But hey, even so, why don't we have an over sized Turkey (called Timmy) doling out gifts of candy-coated turkey, candy-covered pumpkin squares, and chocolate-dipped stuffing?  In our society's ethos of mass-consumerism, why is it that some savvy advertising company has not picked up on this money-making market just waiting to happen?

Sure, food sales go up, but there are no toys; no excess candy; no Hallmark cards.  Are you starting to see something odd here?  We have two important events, Christmas and Easter, Christian holidays of remembrance, which have been overtaken (or I could say re-taken) by materialistic revelry.  The original meaning for these holidays has been lost on many.  Regarding Thanksgiving, however, the original concept has stayed the course.  Timmy the Turkey has not been unleashed on our society, and we do not have another holiday dedicated to spending loads of money to satisfy our materialism gods.

Again, this may be just me, but I would posit that we live in an unseen spiritual conflict: much goes on above and beyond our heads that we do not see, but in which we actively participate and live in each day.  There are forces beyond which we cannot sense, see, nor smell, and they are actively fighting against the embodiment of the established Christian church (and by "church" I don't mean the buildings in which we see people enter and leave every Sunday, but the actual body of believers that composes the true Christian faith).  We are living in a war here folks, a war which is unseen but still felt. 

And this is why, as Thanksgiving is not a Christian holiday, we do not see the same materialistic tendencies overtaking the founding beliefs, as we do Christmas and Easter.  Them's my two cents, anyway.  I may be wrong.... I haven't given this any thought beyond typing these words on this page.  At the very least, it offers an interesting conversation topic across the Thanksgiving table as you gravey-ily bite into Timmy the Turkey's holiday leavings.

Singlehood and Home Ownership - What a Journey!

 

OK...... OK OK OK OK OK OK OK .... OK.

I get it now.  I understand it.  I comprehend.  It makes sense.  I see the light. 

I realize just how money-syphoning, cash-strappingly wonderful, owning a home by one's self can really affect one's finances.

I thought it was problematic when I had to rip up the basement apartment floor 4 months after purchasing my house, due to the ineptitude of the "do-it-yourself-er" who "fixed" my place up to make it look more appealing.  I thought that was the end of my troubles (for the near-future, anyway).

Oh, the naivety of first-time home-ownership!

I have since discovered that my attic is a mess; again, caused by the same inept "do-it-yourself-er" numpty who worked on my basement apartment floor... and today I am having a company re-spray insulation (up to R-70); re-install roofing vents; re-install soffit; and-re-do other stuff as well.

Yes, this attic stuff is occurring today.  And during this process, I have just learned that, alas, the uber-inept numpty who totally messed up basement flooring, and who messed up attic insulation soffit (but did a great job painting all my walls white, by the by), has also done a bang-up-horrible job on my basement ceiling.  Absolutely atrocious.  A blatant misuse of whatever talents he thinks he may have.

Yes, now my basement ceiling must all come down.... but on the plus side, a drywall ceiling will be installed in its place, which meets fire code specs, etc.  Hooray.  Great stuff.

So anyway... being single, having one income, having just come off short-term disability from my last surgery, having 5 surgeries in the past 3 years (and thus adding up all the lost income due to time off work), and having just bought a house that--upon my home-inspector's approval that "it passed the snuff test"--is costing me more money than I have ever had in my bank account.... it is a lot to take in all at once (especially since I have basically discovered all this within the past month or so).

This is where instead of throwing my hands up in despair, I choose to trust that God will see me though this, and will provide the resources and help to move forward with the home repairs.  Although I am venting (obviously) I am not fretting.  Although I am seething just a bit (at the home inspector and numpty do-it-yourself-er), I am not worried.  Things will work out.  And even if they don't, or even if they work out in a way that is not the way I would like, I have a full eternity of fantasticness to make up for the few years of trial here on this earth.

Patience IS a Virtue, and Life IS What You Make of It.

Okay.... so we all have our good days, and we all have our bad days.  We have our Fridays, and we have our Mondays.  And then there are the Wednesdays of our lives.... and through it all, what covers everything, is our attitude.  I am not talking about something as basic as "the glass is either half-empty or half-full"; to be honest, that is pure pish-posh.  The glass is both, not one or the other, nothing more.  Fifty percent is halfway there, and halfway not.  Viewing said glass either way has nothing to do with optimism nor pessimism.  Nay and double nay, it just does not.

My views on life, my predisposing thoughts, my attitudes, my beliefs, influence how I think, how I act, and how I react.  I can stub my toe and swear, shout and curse; I can, a-la Homer Simpson, say politely, "Fiddle-dee-dee, I seemed to have broken my toe", yet all the while curse inside my head; or I can register the pain, discount my clumsiness for what it is, and move on.

We, all of us, have our own predisposed--sometimes even brainwashed--belief systems.  We all have our own outlook on life, which influences how we view life in general.  Our thoughts, our views, can change, however, and thus our views and outlook on life change accordingly.

Goodness me, this is sounding a bit dry here.  Might as well spark it up with some life examples.

So!

Case-in-point:  Last night, as I wrote in my Facebook blurb today, I mistakenly left a big bag of birdseed outside all night.  Come the morning sun, morning birds, and morning sweat (cause it was a hot one, oh my), I peeked outside my door and strewn across my patio/porch was this light grainy-coloured substance.  As sleep left my beleaguered eyes, my brain kicked into high gear, and came to the conclusion that, "No, that is not sand, nor beige-coloured snow, that is your birdseed.  Correction, was your birdseed."

Now a decade or so ago my then-self would have let fly a string of explicatives that would have made even the most hardened sailor blush.  that is a true story.  My new yesterday-morning self, however, looked at the seed in dismay, sighed, and went straight away to clean it up.  My views in life, my newer frame of mind, my beliefs, they shaped my thinking and actions into a more constructive way of acting.

Flash-forward to work.  Having sat for 45 minutes without my first work-coffee, I picked up my cup at the normal pick up speed, anxious to get some caffeinated memory-juice into my body.  Unbeknownst to me, on the Friday I had half a cup of cold coffee to meander in my mug for the entire weekend.  Who in their right mind is going to clean out their cup just before a sunny weekend, am I right?

Anyone?

Hellllooooooo......?


Fine.  Anyway, with the speed that my cup was lifted off the desk, half of the half-cup of coffee launched out of said cup, and slathered itself onto my pants, and a tad less on my shirt.  Hardly an hour into my work day, and I had already achieved a day's worth of mess.  Three day old cream, and smelly, smelly coffee had conspired to make me as offending as my 10th-Grade history teacher.

Although I let out another audible sigh, I did not curse.  I dutifully went to the washroom, soaked my pants with tap water and then let the hand-dryer do the rest.  In no time flat, I no longer looked like I peed myself; but I still smelled of some awful coffee.

Now here is where my outlook, my views, etc etc etc, on life come into play.  I am not saying that I am a this fantastic person who has complete control over my emotions and actions ('cause I don't), but, nevertheless I could have easily let the first two morning instances ruin my day (I mean come on, who wants to sit next to Coffee McSmelly Pants?), I could have dwelt on my stupidity, and I could have talked myself into a self-deprecating rut.  I did not, however, as I do firmly believe that what I speak over myself has great power, for good or ill.  If I continually call myself "stupid" when I mess up, I will talk myself into actually becoming that type of stupid.  If I constantly think I am getting sick; or that I will not heal, then by gum, guess what will happen over the next few years?

It is even scientifically proven, in the books "The Brain that Heals Itself"; and "Who Switched off my Brain"; and "A Stroke of Insight." (All different authors, but meh, you can look up the names yourselves).  What we think, what we tell ourselves (and what we believe when others tell us something) definitely does affect our thoughts, our health, and our well-being.

Maybe that is why when cruddy things occur in my life, one thing that kicks into gear is my humour.  And from there, my outlook changes from "ill-humour", to "sense-of-humour". Granted, it doesn't happen all the time, as I am flawed and human--but for the most part, I try to approach life with the viewpoint that no matter what I have gone through; no matter what I have lost; no matter what pain I am in, I still have the breath of life in me, and by that fact, I have the choice to look upon life as a blessing, or a curse.  And humour gets me to that point.  May God give me the wisdom and strength and power to always look at life as a blessing.

So this isn't exactly what I thought I was going to write, but most times when I write I only have a basic premise orbiting around the asteroid that is my head, and from there I let my mind and fingers (and thumbs) do the rest.

As a final thought, the words we speak and the thoughts we think and allow to grow in our fertile minds have great impact on how and where our lives move.  We have all seen those self-help books, "Think Your Way into a Great Relationship"; "Will Yourself to Great Health"; Stuart Smally's self-affirming mantra, "I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggonit, People Like Me."  This New Age stuff may sound new and exciting, but really, this was covered thousands of years ago in that Best-Selling Book, the Bible.

(As an aside, just because a thought is thousands of years old, does not make it outdated.  Some thoughts and ideals stand the test of time, because they are True, and True Absolute Truth cannot be abolished or destroyed.)

Had I the time (and the light, as it is now dark outside--and I have laundry to do) I would write out millennia-old bits of wisdom stressing the importance of pure self-directed thoughts.   Another time, mayhaps.

Until then, I breathe the breath of life that I am thankful for, revel at the beauty of God's Creation, and marvel at how comfortable it is to lean back in a comfortable chair, and enjoy the sights and sounds of Nature.

A post on sleep (or lack thereof) and controlling dreams....

Anyone else here a light sleeper?  Yeah.  I am one.  A small creak in the floor, a plane/helicopter flying overhead outside, a whisper of a small word, a raccoon climbing along the fence.... a rhinoceros tip-towing outside my window, and I am bolt-upright awake, ripped out of whatever dream I was in.  And as I unsuccessfully try to re-enter this now fading fantastic dream, my mind wanders back to the fact that I am an unfortunate light sleeper who will need to bulk up on free workplace coffee come the morn.

But speaking of dreams, do you know what one thing I can do in my dream that I wish I could do all the time?  I can rewind my dream if I don't like the way it is going, or if I do not like the choice I have made.  Yup.  While dreaming, I just consciously say, "No sir, I don't like it", and away my dream rewinds back to the point where I can make a new decision.  Sometimes the choice revolves around beating up a monster (instead of being beaten up), or deciding whether to fly or not... the dreams vary.

And no, I never trained myself to do this... it just happens every once and a while, when I would rather perform another action in my dream. (such as using my bike to jump over a lake, rather than in it).

Anyway.... back to my lack of sleep woes... I envy all those people who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat (or pillow), those who can sleep through anything.  Oh, to have that blissful sleep, and wake up feeling rigorously refreshed, instead of waking up counting the number of times I should not have woken up.

To sleep, to dream, to rest, to silently slumber.

Good times.

The Joys of Riding a Bike, and the Woes of 401 Rush Hour Traffic

Wow, are there any rules as to how often one has to post on a blog?  Well if there are, I am certain to have broken said rules.

Annnnnnyway, tonight I discovered the rewarding joys of taking an 11 KM bike ride through the Pickering Waterfront trail by Lake Ontario.  After working my second 8 hour day since coming back from my surgery recovery, it was definitely a rewarding post-work day.  Weeding 12 four-foot dandelion-like plants, leaning back in my porch chair, and then off on my bike, mouth dodging incoming gnats and other sundry small insects as I fly, sometimes chug, and sometimes puff my way along the bike trail.

After being immobilized by illness, lack of energy, lack of desire-to-do-much-of-anything for the past three + years, having no life other than the usual crash after work, take antibiotics, take pain meds, take drugs, sleep, wake, work, etc.... having the energy and desire to DO STUFF, well that in itself is an incredibly rewarding thing.  Exercise rocks.  Sunshine rocks.  Fresh air rocks.  Flowers, bike paths, nature, and rocks rocks.

This is the third time this week that I have gone out on my bike to travel after a long day.  I remember my first jaunt on a bike since my last surgery... oh, three weeks ago, I made it no more than one kilometer before my knees and body gave up in protest.  And now, each evening, I have pushed myself a few KMs more each ride.

Good times.

And now... on to my rant.  Man, I love a good rant.  Especially while watching the lack-of-brain-enabling TV shows, commercials, movies, garbage, that is force-fed us every day.  Then I verbally rant at the TV.  But I digress.

I h8, I anti-heart, I LOATHE the 401.  And it is not really the 401 that I store up deep-seated feelings of loathing , but rather it is the inconsiderate, "me first" "I don't care about any one else except myself" drivers that I regrettably must share the road with every day.

I am sure you have seen their type:  those numptys who feel it is their right to cause near-fenderbenders as they blatantly do what would give them a failing grade in a driving test.  I am talking about those wonderful drivers who, upon seeing a Lane Ending sign, swerve into said lane (as it is empty of cars as most other drivers know it is a no-no to do so), speed onwards until the last second, and as the lane ends, or is just about to end, swerve back into the regular grind, cutting people off, thereby slowing down traffic to a stand still as some hapless driver slams on his or her breaks to let Crazy McDriverstink back in.  Whew. What a run-on-sentence!

These drivers will also speed onto the right off-ramp lane, switch to the left off-ramp lane, and then at the last second abort, swerve back into traffic, performing the same cut-off, slow everyone else down maneouver that just makes me grind my teeth in a frustrating "nothing-I-can-do-about-it-ness".  Way to go buddy; by breaking traffic rules, nearly causing an accident, and slowing down the general flow of traffic, you have successfully bypassed 10 cars, and have saved yourself 11 seconds of commute time.  100 more times and you might just shave an hour off your drive.  And... no... in case this popped into your mind, the above driver did not just realize that he was taking the wrong exit.  He was blatantly trying to bypass traffic to save some precious seconds.

Sigh... stupid, selfish people.  Am I right to call these people stupid?  It is not a word I use a lot, as it is degrading, but really, these driver types are so wrapped up in their "me and only me-ness" that stupid is what they really are.

The only thing that can be done (aside from the Police cracking down on this--but I don't see how they can, as it is easier to nab speeders than it is dangerous swervey drivers), is what I have seen other defensive drivers do:  tailgate the car in front of them as they near an exit or lane-ending sign, and tailgate hard such that any cut-in-liner driver is forced to stop moving completely, horn blaring, fist shaking, mouth moving, complaining why life is so unfair that no one will let him bud back in line <editor's note, I saw six cars do this trick this morning.  Wish I had my iPhone out to record>.

Tough luck, buddy.

I have seen trucks do this tailgate move... small pinto-like-cars, normal sedans, mini vans... and although potentially dangerous, there is nothing more we honest and safe drivers can do.  Except form a vigilante group with cars packing hidden machine guns, rocket launchers, tire spikes, and bumper rams.  Too Mad-Max, Interstate '76, or Twisted Metal?  Well yes it is.  But at some point, someone (hopefully the politicians or police) needs to take this issue in hand, before Joe-Somebody wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, and takes it into his own hand.

Cheers.

Post Operative Bloopers - Black Comedy in Real Life - Part the Second

I found another piece I wrote while in Mt Sinai Hospital, recovering from my last surgery.  Even in the midst of the most painful circumstances, humour may be found.  

Part I

Mt Sinai Hospital, Toronto, Ontario.

February 28, 2011, 12:26pm

What follows is a true-to-life, nearly word-for-word and action-for-action account of a patient's latest recovery episode at Mt. Sinai hospital.  Again, what is written below is not meant to disparage any person or any organization, it is simply written to illustrate, from a patient’s perspective, the numerous and crazy difficulties one can endure while in hospital.  Any likeness to real-life individuals is probably true, and most likely not fictional.

[Insert Law and Order "buh buh" sound].

Pain Scenario Part 1:

Nurse: "Good morning Mr. Wilson, we are going to remove drainage tuning from your stomach."

Paul(concerned): "I am feeling a lot of pain in that area; the pain meds you gave me are not going to be enough."

Nurse: "No, they are enough."

Paul: "No, they are not. I am in pain right now so if you were to yank it out now I will be screaming."

Nurse: "I am sorry but the pain pills we gave you are enough."
Paul: "Look, if you yank this thing out and see my fist flying in the direction of your face, you will know I needed more pain pills. PLEASE give me more as I am still in pain!"

Nurse: "No, you wouldn't do that; i'll just start to remove sutures so we can yank it out."
(starts snipping sutures)

Paul: " Well no, I am not that kind of guy but I am trying to tell you that I need more pain meds to deal with-- (nurse slightly presses on site)

OUCH!!!!!!"

Paul (exasperated): "I am TELLING you I am in pain, and if you are going to remove this, I need more meds!"

Nurse (starting to slowly pull on tube): "No I am sorry but what I have given you is enough and--"

Paul: "OOOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCHHHHHHHH, AAAHHHHH! Look, can you see that I am hurting here??? My apologies for yelling but need more pain meds before you do this!!!"

Nurse (Male nurse, in case you are wondering about my fist flying comment): (Reluctantly, shocked): "Well I'll have a chat with the Doctors to see if we can up your pain meds for this one time. I'll give you your regular meds at 1:30, shot at 2:00, and we'll remove the tube at 2:30."

Paul: (inaudibly sighs) "OK, thank you."

Part II

Mt Sinai Hospital, Toronto, Ontario.

February 28, 2011, 2:15pm

[Insert Law and Order "buh buh" sound].

Nurse: "Unfortunately we cannot give you a higher dosage than what you currently have."

Paul: "That is... Unfortunate."

Nurse: "Ok let's pull this thing out shall we.....? (concern etched in voice) You aren't really going to hit me, are you?"

Paul: "No, no... (sigh). I don't do that kind of stuff. Although I may pound the snot out of the hospital bed rail (reader's note: male nurse's lower half conveniently located two inches away from rail).

Nurse (relief):  "Oh, I see... Well let's pull this out (grabs hold of tube). So tell me, how long have you been working?"

Paul (slightly tense, but calm):  “Well I have been at my current job for four years and-- (nurse begins pulling on tube)

AAAAWWWWWWAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

Nurse: "No-no, keep talking I am trying to distract you!"

Paul (inwardly thinking, "it is kinda obvious you are trying to distract me, but it it is not working!"):  "Aaaahhhhh... (body tensed, hands gripping bed sheets hard, in a pained, strained voice) Well I worked in another place 3.5 years prior to—(nurse yanks out tube from stomach; attached is an eight inch drainage filter, two centimetres wide).

YYYYEEEEEAAAAGRRRAAAAA AAAAS! GAAAAA!!!!"

Nurse: "There there, it is all over, you are OK!"

Paul (gritting teeth in much pain): "Yeah you may have pulled it out but the pain hasn't stopped!!!"

Nurse (with certainty in voice): "Well there is no blood, so you are OK." (Places gauze and applys pressure on site)

Paul: "That may be, but it still hurts like heck!!!! Grrrrrr!!!!" (gritting teeth)

Nurse (showing Paul the tube like it is some kind of prize):  "Wanna see the tube?"

Paul (a twinge of fascination):  "THAT was inside my stomach???  Wow."

(Nurse applies tape to gauze, walks out of room. Paul accesses Facebook to write what has just occurred)

Fin.

Deep Thoughts by Luape Noswila (cousin of Jack Handy--500 times removed)

Whenever I hear the sound of rain,
it makes me think of the word "pejorative".
And that in turn makes me wonder about geese.
You know, when a flock of geese fly over a group of people, I often say with wildlife wisdom,
"Isn't that flock of geese absolutely pejorative?"


Someone in the group always responds, "Hey, you hippy, the definition of pejorative is,
'a word or phrase that has negative connotations or that is intended to disparage or belittle.' 
And you didn't even use the word properly, definition notwithstanding!"


And you know what?  Being a snarky guy, I respond, "Who died and made you King of China?"