Including Moderation

"Everything in moderation, including moderation." It's an idea at the front of my mind lately. And I have a good example. The other day I went to McDonald's for a burger. It was my first trip there in 6 months.

I've been on a wonderful health kick for the past few months. I started karate with fitness goals. I now spend multiple days a week exercising and increasing my fitness, so that I can do better with the karate.

But the motivation included some ideas such as giving up McDonald's. In retrospect that's just silly! A trip every few months for a greasy burger will not affect my health. However continuously denying myself a tasty treat can serious affect my motivation.

As always, the idea is "balance". And so most days it's about home-cooking, veggies, vitamins and satiety. But other days, at 2am and in the rain, hunger will be satisfied via the most expediant method. If that's McDonald's then so be it.

The Discovery Channel

It should be a movie... Discovery Channel, The Movie. It would no-doubt be about an asteroid (lonely and misunderstood) imparting its kinetic energy into the Earth (flashy and ignorant).

Things the Discovery Channel makes me wonder about include:

How do we account for the carbon footprint of an asteroid? Is it the responsibility of the country it impacts or does the UN spread the accounting amongst numerous nations? Does the Kyoto treaty have a contingency for this?

Based on major asteroid impacts happening every hundred million years or so, can I resume a careless use of plastic? What's 3 degrees of climate change compared to a 600 degree blast wave?

If an asteroid were to strike the Earth, how much more dangerous would this make fishing for crab in Alaska?

The "Ice Road Truckers" are hauling supplies to arctic oil drilling and pumping sites. But the show before this one showed how wind turbines and electric cars meant no need for oil. So is all the oil going to be for the "Overhauled" 7-litre engines a la Foose?

Of all the shark attacks annually, what proportion of them are on Discovery Channel camera operators?

If I use a very small and efficient motor, to get somewhere I was going to walk to, am I being Green, ingenious, or lazy?

How do I get one of those jobs blowing things up???

Why is modern science in the hands of "amateur inventors", "backyard tinkerers", and "hollywood special effects artists"? What happened to the scientists?

If my dad and I get together, build stuff, and argue a lot, can we have our own show? Can we end each show by blowing something up?

If Hitler's alien technology was transfered to the United States at the end of the war, then where's my jet pack? There should be wearable jet packs by now.

Get on with it!

I took an hour today and read Johnny's Blog for the first time. A friend of many years and a blogger of many months, Johnny only sent the link to the "secret blog" last week.

I read through a few months of inspiring posts devoted to environmental responsibility and his current "career change". I'm now inspired to do more than read a blog post or two. I'm inspired to go out and improve something! To improve myself!

And really, right now, that's pretty freakin easy to do. Doing anything would be an improvement.

I still haven't been to karate. I feel so old and tired and weak that I can't motivate myself at 7pm to hop on the bus and go hurt myself. Well, it's time.

I haven't even been exercising properly at home. I should do that next. As in, right after typing this. I need to practice my kata for karate. And some stretches and exercises ought to improve the chances of going to the dojo tonight.

And when I'm done that I'm going to do a bit of reading. Starting with the mail. Open the envelopes, pay the bills, sort the rest. Then Pratchett. I've earned it and will devote an hour or more to finishing "Small Gods" before moving on to the remaining unread tomes.

Note, even when inspired to self-improvement I still don't plan time to look for work. I'm not there yet. The "moments of peace" have been few and far between. But I think I can litterally kick the blues away. The hope being that tomorrow I'll feel, better than this.

Finally a moment...

I'm here to report that I have finally felt a moment of peace.

It took a long time to figure out what it was, to find the word. It wasn't that I suddenly realized I felt happy. I didn't. But I didn't feel the pain either. There are challenges and bad times before me and behind, but this moment felt neutral. There is so much to be done, and yet nothing needed doing right then. After arriving home feeling sick yesterday, I finally felt well, and had slept.

And for a moment, peace felt good.

Thanks to Zeus the dog for making the cancelled flight in Frankfurt more tolerable. And thanks to all of you who have sent hugs and condolences via all the messages, emails and posts. They genuinely conveyed their messages and brought me strength in hard times.

Now? Well now there's simply a peaceful Saturday morning. Soon? Soon there will be the job hunt, moments of grieving, negotiations for temp work, signing up for Dutch class, returning to karate, and catching up with friends. A mixed bag.

Hopefully, every now and then, for a moment or two at a time, there will be more moments of peace.

In Loving Memory

Judith Ann D'Antonio passed away peacefully at the St. Catharines General Hospital January 8, 2009 in her 67th year. Beloved wife of Ralph D’Antonio and loving mother of son Morgan. Also survived by her sister Sandra (& Bob) Channell and brother Rusty (& Karen) Williams. Judy was predeceased by her parents Mr. And Mrs. H.B. Williams.

Adored aunt of Missy (& Joe) Roma, Cody Channell, Jessica Crawford and Chris Crawford. Great aunt to Sammy, Max, Brody and Caden. Judy will also be missed by a special group of childhood girl friends.

Judy was a former schoolteacher and over the years taught in schools in St. Catharines, Niagara Falls, Chatham and Burlington. Judy was a member of St. Julia’s Church.

Judy had many hobbies and interests. She loved crafts, decorating, reading, music, cooking, movies and was an avid traveller. Judy won several local cooking contests and sang in the choirs of her local churches in the aforementioned cities.

Judy is resting at Darte's Funeral Home in St. Catharines, ON.

Visitation Saturday and Sunday 2-4 and 7-9 Jan 10/11

Service to be held at St. Julia’s on Monday at 11am

In lieu of flowers, her family encourages donations to the Heart and Stroke Foundation or a charity of your choice.

Special thanks to the doctors, nurses and staff at the General Hospital especially the staff on Mills 4 for their caring, understanding and sympathy.

----

I love you mom. Thank you. I owe all that I am to you.

Old and New

I'm told that the tendancy to use the New Year to consider your life is a cultural one. Taken for granted in North America, people make resolutions for improvement. I think I've mentioned, even here, that I like to stop and consider things more routinely. But this tradition of contemplation and New Year's resolutions still makes for a great time to talk about such things.

Spend your year asking your friends for "the meaning of it all" or such and you'll be labelled as melancholy. Discussing resolutions, however, is more socially acceptable. Although even here, resolutions are often personal, and responses and comments need to be strictly limited.

Person1: "I'm planning to hit the gym more and get in better shape."
Person2: "Oh, I know a great gym in my neighbourhood and they are running a special right now."

This is socially acceptable.

Person1: "I'm planning to hit the gym more and get in better shape."
Person2: "So you're feeling fat, eh? Good, I didn't know how to mention what I'm stuck looking at."

This is not.

It's a shame, really, that we don't discuss more openly our motives behind things. Resolutions are proposed solutions to problems in our lives. We discuss those, but rarely the underlying motivating problem. Oh well.

In the coming weeks and months I resolve:

• To study my Dutch and attempt the tests to show I know it because there are things I want to do, but I need a passport to accomplish them.
  
• To go back to the gym, because my cardio fitness is lacking and I would like to loose some fat.
• To get a good job, because in a couple weeks I'll be unemployed and that's probably not good.
• To visit my mom, because her health is bad and I should be there for her.

There's more. Personal stuff. But that's the main part.

This really is a time of change for me. It isn't just due to the calendar or a holiday. It's actually kind of crazy, the total amount of change coming at once. But that reminds me of one more "resolution" I've choosen.

I resolve to keep smiling.

Happy New Year everyone! Don't stay up too late tonight. ;-)

An Eye for an Eyelash

CNN is making me feel sick this morning. Please, as citizens of this shared world, pay attention to what's happening in Gaza. Have an opinion and speak it.

My opinion is that after decades of creating the world's largest prison, Isreal is trying to combat criminal activity in that prison with indescriminate airstrikes. AIRSTRIKES people! Not Seal missions infultrating the enemy HQ and capturing the leader... airstikes with massive bombs dropped from F-16s onto apartment blocks in a prison filled with innocents.

Meanwhile an evangelistic preacher on Larry King Live is talking about "How to serve God" or some other version of "Here's what God wants You to Do." I don't spend a lot of time listening to the message of many evangelists, but what I notice is it is all about the individual and God... or the individual and Jesus. Never about the individual and everyone else.

Do you want to know how to please God? Start by being good to everyone else. Done, period. Every religion, every denomination and every chapter/branch/sect agrees. That's the start.

I think, if we use military aircraft to bomb women and children born into a prison, we aren't ready to know any more about "what God wants."

Merry Christmas to all....

My apartment smells so much like Christmas that I keep expecting my mom to step into the living room at any moment. It's the turkey carcass boiling into soup that really makes the difference. And believe it or not, I really made the turkey.

Cooking the turkey is a bit of a special thing in North American culture. I think traditionally passed on from mothers to daughters, it can include great conflict when passed to a daughter-in-law. People outside or new to the family just don't know the right way to do it. Their stuffing is always wrong. Good, often delicious, but wrong.

Such are the mysterious ways of the turkey. Oh, and more so, the stuffing.

Men learn these things from books. It's written down in little formulas... so many minutes per pound for turkey A, given a maximum weight less than X and a stuffing_variable set to yes. Then you wait (ignoring time) until you get that rich "turkey almost burning" smell and you're done. Easy.

And delicous.

I hope everyone enjoyed celebrating the spirit of Christmas (eating too much with family/friends) as much as I did. Merry Christmas all.

Poverty part 2

I reread my Enjoy Poverty post and it made me think. It tied in nicely with some of the other conversations I've had this weekend... perversity, revolution, glass making. Renzo was derided as "cruel" because his message was to tell the poor to "enjoy poverty" since their situation wasn't going to change.

How much more cruel is it to tell the poor that if they work hard enough, they too can be millionaires?

Sedarisklas

I heard my first bits of David Sedaris' writing just recently. Specifically, his bit describing Sinterklas is, in my opinion, hillarious.



I've seen it. It's true. I never know what to say. It's like Santa, right? Well, no. But he's about Christmas and wearing red and has helpers. Written back in 1823, "Twas the Night Before Christmas" could never have held this many politically incorrect references. The Dutch have had hundreds and hundreds of years to desensitize themselves to this tradition.


I've even seen it myself. As I said, I never know what to say, so I asked to take their picture.

There is an absurdity to it. Which makes me think of the work of David Sedaris. I would love to write in that style. Except. Is it a style or just clinical depression? Either way it sounds funny. I wonder if he has a different personality he puts on at night or on weekends? I hope he does. I don't think I would want to live my life depressed for the sake of writing better. Especially since writing makes me happy. So I would constantly be hitting writer's block... I'd write, feel happy about it, not be able to write more, then get depressed and write about it. Oh my.

Maybe I'll just stick to writing my own way. Stories about squirrels and chipmunks are for David to write. I'll just let you know about the funnier bits. Like Sinterklas and his 6 to 8 black men.

Rabbit Rabbit

Happy December!

Episode 3: Enjoy Poverty

Renzo Martens stikes me as a bit of a prat. After sitting through his documentary film, Enjoy Poverty, I don't think I like him. But I did like his film. Or specifically, I'm glad I've seen it.


His movie makes you think. Cruel or kind, accept or reject, his message is clear and needs to be heard. The poor of Africa will remain poor. He shows how workers' children starve and foreign aid organizations protect the natural resources but not the people. To be employed on a plantation in the Congo is to be enslaved to a life of poverty.

His suggested solution? If it isn't going to change, then let's convince the people to enjoy their poverty. He asserts that their poverty is itself a natural resource, a commodity bought and sold by outside interests, and that since it isn't going away everyone should just try to enjoy it.

Scenes alternate between Renzo with a generator and portable neon "(Please) Enjoy Poverty" sign and scenes of poverty, starvation, death and rotting bodies.

"Is it art or is it a documentary? That is for you to decide." So said the announcer who opened the viewing last night at the International Documentary Festival of Amsterdam. Well it is a documentary. About a bratty little "artist" who travelled the Congo and filmed. He filmed Africa. And he self-indulgently filmed himself. And he filmed the other photographers who in turn photographed him and his sign. And as you sit in the audience, you get it. It's not subtle.

There are serious problems with the way poverty is handled. Our old solutions are now institutions and they largely support themselves; not the poor. We either need to change things, or we need to convince a lot of people, to Enjoy Poverty.

Just Do It

Dance! Express your self through the motion of your arms. Move your hips, first quickly and then slowly, just to prove you know how. And step. Move those feet Charlie Brown. Step away from the wall and join the crowd. It won’t hurt, much.

Or better yet, dance naked in your living room!

I like to move at the club, but nothing beats the total freedom of the living room. No judgement, no worries, no bad moves. Just dance. Movement for the sake of movement.

Dancing at home is completely spontaneous. As planned as the random music. It doesn’t usually start naked, expect perhaps after a particularly rockin shower. But the moves quickly build up heat, and no one else is around, so why not shed a little? Before you know it your spirit is in complete control of your body. There’s a 97% chance you look a fool. But that’s not relevant for as we all know, if a fool dances in a forest and no one is around to tease him, then he’s not really foolish, simply dancing.

Let's say it was a dream...

We met at the start of a walk. And as we went I was in awe of the way you moved. You didn't walk forward, you spun and twirled and cartwheeled your way. And I followed.

And I picture that on the way the path became thick with trees and rocks. Yet still you managed to twirl and dance. Each tree unheaded, yet moved past like a dancer moves with their partner. Imagine how happy is the cork to bob in the river. It cares not, knowing it will never sink. Oh what pretty patterns it makes.

You told me not to worry. To just be in the now, and not worry of the futures. And I looked at you and saw all that is beautiful in the universe.

Our path became sloped. The land rose to one side and dropped on the other. And yet you danced. A boulder, a rock, a hole, a branch, all these, and you dance. Some how I watch you move through this maze, carefree. Twirling and telling me not to worry. To be in the now. To stop planning the future.

And I look at you and know you must be mine.

And our path becomes a ledge. I move against the rock and wish I'd brought better shoes. The drop on the other side is clearly deadly, and yet you twirl. I look at you and cannot believe. And you look back and cannot understand.

I step forward and the rocks give way. The ledge is in two and we are apart. I cannot proceed. You look at me, confused by my shock and horror. You hold out your hand. When I give you my hand you pull me forward, I have no choice and my foot goes...

Into soft ground covered in grass. We're standing in a beautiful field of soft grass and sun. Holding hands.

"We're standing in a field," I say.

"Well of course. Where did you think we were?"

"Oh, I was just uhm... not listening properly, Kedves. Sorry."

Then a subtle tickle in my head. A spark of an idea, half thought, half felt. "There are many ways to see it. This is what I choose to share. Focus on the what is, rather than the might-not."

Baby Love Child, Groovey Love Child

"I know you love me most, no one else take my place."

This song makes me cry. Don't know why.

Dear Mr. Gates

Dear Mr. Gates,

Please accept this posting as my official request to have a week of my life back. I would either like the time fully returned to me or payment in lieu for IT services. I am an ICT professional so I expect proper rates to apply.

I'm sorry I don't have a detailed accounting of my time, but I have been fully engaged, for more than a week, with the sole goal of installing your Microsoft Windows XP computer operating system. In that time I have booted from my legitimately purchased Windows DVD perhaps 2 dozen times. This is not easy, since your software doesn't recognize my hard drive. Once inside your software, via the DVD I have selected the option of using the Recovery Panel a number of times. But the Recovery Panel looks an awful lot like the C:/ prompt. Staring at it doesn't ever fix the problem. I've loaded the actual operating system at least 8 times now, half as a repair to an existing installation and half starting with a disk format and reload from scratch. Thanks to these reloads I've loaded service packs one and two at least four times. And I've loaded service pack three once or twice.

The problem is the software. The basic OS works. SP1 seems to install and work. SP2 installs. But once it asks me to reboot at the end, it rarely returns.

Isn't it amusing when a software upgrade wipes out the files the OS needs to boot? Haha, very good, got me there.

If upgrading the software must destroy my system, then can you please stop presenting me with minute by minute reminders to download or install updates? Or even better, could you consider producing software that actually works? Based upon the amounts you owe me, for my time, and no doubt also everyone else, please sell your next software release for $1 and include a shiny new $100 bill in each box. Failing this, please compensate me for my time. Or failing this, please at least allow me to use my computer again. If there is a ransom you wish paid, I have not received the note.

Your humble slave in economics,
Morgan

Pain and Growth

Last night I was on the floor, in an odd position with my partner, telling her," That hurts, keep doing that." There might have been a "harder" in there somewhere too.

No, don't send the children out of the room. I'm speaking, of course, of the stretching exercises from karate class. It's frightening to stretch muscles that, if pulled, can end a baseballer's career. Especially when you're as inflexible (physically) as I am.

The stretching was tough, but the kicking hurt more. I learned all kinds of new things, such as, did you know that kicking hurts more than being kicked? I would never have guessed this, but as I limped home I discovered this truth. The thirty or fourty hard kicks to the mat on the wall left far more damage to myself than the few times a training partner tried to knock the wind out of me.

Hmmm. Wait, that's misleading. The training partner wasn't trying to hurt me. But the sensei actually separated us and had her practice alone. The goal of "kick forwards and place your foot at your partner's stomach" was instead practiced as "kick forwards". A foot suddenly flew past my nose. The next went towards a knee. A few went for the previously-mentioned difficult-to-stretch area.

I'm learning how to jump backwards very effectively!

This morning I'm relishing all the painful bits. They show me where I was weak but am now growing. A long-time exercise masichist, I take pleasure from this. So it caught my eye when Google presented a page where a person asked if they could learn karate without pain. Huh? Perhaps with a Wii. Like learning to drive in your living room or exploring the ocean from a book.

The little painful bits in our lives are all opportunities for growth. Be it muscular or mental, success could be defined as being able to see the good that follows each of life's pains. It's good practice and a good life skill because rarely are the worthwhile things found along the easy path.

Three Little Words

Three little words can,
mean a world of difference between two.
Three little words can,
hold or strangle; bind or repel;
mean so much or so little.

She told me in Hungarian culture,
the three little words rarely pass lips.
The goal is to show it,
it and "not just say it".

And so I've never told Her.

Instead I unviel the table,
because, it's Wednesday. And that's enough.
Because I want to show Her,
in my every move and word,
how I feel for Her.

And because I know She feels,
the same about me.

In the Princess Bride,
the stableboy had "As You wish."
Well I wished for She,
perfect ying and yang.

So I try to show,
those three little words in my every way.
It's in what you do,
not just what you say.

(Author's note: I wrote this entirely as prose. It was only on the proof-read that I realized that a "poetic style" of punction and spacing was more deserved. I changed but a word or two. It's not intended to rhyme or keep a good beat.)

So Much

A day? What a difference a month makes! And a busy month at that.

Logistically, it's been busy. Two week trips to Belgium to teach, a week of teaching in Holland, and a few days in Denmark for a trade show again. This week I work four days then I'm off to Canada for a week.

Spiritually and emotionally, it's been busy. That dinner date went well. I'm cooking for two a lot more often. Alas I'm also worried for my Mom's health. Thus the trip so soon back to Canada.

Physically, it's been busy. I spent two-weeks sick with only a half-day off work. Over the same time-period I've gotten back into nutritional and fitness and I'm happy with the progress. And even better than that, I'm quitting smoking!

I have no doubt it's all over TV advertisements in North America, but I hadn't ever heard of Champix (tm) before meeting last week with my doctor. "Take these pills, keep smoking a week, then take these stronger ones and stop smoking." It was pressented to me as that easy, and I think it might actually be!

At least the first week is easy. "Take these pills and keep smoking." Too easy. But each day I've noticed I'm smoking less and getting less out of each attempt. I say attempt, because for most of my life the craving for a cigarette has been immediately satisfied by, a cigarette. Champix blocks that. So cigarette breaks are becoming pointless. Thankfully at the same time this medication reduces the urge to smoke, leaving me happy with the idea of soon being smoke-free.

Smoke-free, back to exercise, eating well? Gosh, if I'm not careful I may soon find myself "healthy"!

The Good Crystal....

Yesterday's dinner was worth pulling out the good crystal for. I even pulled out the dining room table, which normally rests against the wall doing its impression of a desk.

I didn't hit the "New Post" button with the intention of making this a musical post. But my PC suggested this song as I started writing. It fits.