java nation

the logo resembles a crowned mermaid trapped inside a boston celtics cameo. 'cause whenever i think about overpriced coffee beans, the image of a mythical, legless sea creature/monarch immediately comes to mind. the mission statement reads: "to inspire and nurture the human spirit— one person, one cup, and one neighbourhood at a time." no, really. c'est vrai. i'm talking about starbucks, in case you were still wondering. starbucks: that staple of trendy suburban neighbourhoods everywhere. seductive blends. herbal infusions. full-bodied flavours. no, really. es verdad. javaheads always seem to wear their cardboard coffee cups like a badge. and their thermal coffee mugs like an olympic medal. in my neck of the woods, the ladies that do lunch are rarely seen without a caffe latte in one hand, a blackberry bold in the other, with two ugg-adorned kids and one overseas nanny in tow. words like pretentious and ostentatious come to mind. so you really prefer the taste of a roasted seed over, say, an ice-cold bottle of diet nestea? the taste of a brewed fruit pit over, say, a tall glass of low pulp oj? yeah, whatever.

"suum cuique" - cicero

you mean it isn't about me?: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQZmCJUSC6g


p.s. and then there were 17

"hey, you just dropped an easy pop up. you have no credibility, man." - unforgiving high school ballplayer

if we could be heroes just for one day: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xdo5f_ozf6E

my first top ten

top ten signs it's too cold for after-school softball at bickford park:

10. wayward softball used by local children as undersized head in construction of impromptu snowman
9. shortstop's spittle curiously turns to ice before hitting the ground
8. lone homeless spectator decides to call it a day at 3:45
7. chattering teeth of middle-aged head coach suddenly begin breaking apart without warning
6. normally weather-conscious outfielding trio seen praying for rain in "lesser of two evils" scenario
5. trendy infielders forced to choose between cooper pro series full grain leather baseball mitt from sportchek or tna lamb's wool knit mittens from aritzia
4. practice momentarily interrupted as puzzled team members observe disoriented canada geese migrating southward overhead
3. pitchers offered gatorade-sweetened hot cocoa between innings
2. right fielder temporarily frozen in her cleats due to prolonged inactivity
1. even the softballs are shivering

shades of grey

the thief may grant thousands of dollars to the needy. the liar may utter words of encouragement to the perplexed. the abuser may afford comfort and empathy to the ill-treated. the point is that no one can be defined by a single word or phrase. people are complicated. people are layered. people are fluid. what is the true nature of an individual? do we judge another by his actions? and which actions? his most recent actions? his most consistent actions? or by his words? and which words? words spoken in jest? words spoken in anger? good people do bad things. and vice-versa. this life is a long road with many bumps and turns. circumstances present challenges. lessons are learned. consequences are varied. fairness is relative. clearly there are more questions than answers. somewhere it is written: judge not lest ye be judged. and yet we do. some are hypocritical. others are virtuous. all are sincere. or so i believe. but the question remains.

"oh, and always remember junior. do the right thing." - do the right thing (1989)

the final word goes to the boys from the queen city: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6F_A1Sr5584&feature=related

kid

smile. laugh. listen. hope. shout. cry. try. ask. answer. walk. run. plead. forgive. dance. sing. play. want. need. lose. win. care. smile.

"learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow." - albert einstein

write what you know: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAH-d4ULLaw

blow it out your ear

so my kid told me that i stunk of cigarette smoke when i walked through the door this evening. "you stink." uh... we were playing baseball in the rain. "no, you stink of cigarette smoke." cigarette smoke? are you sure? "yeah, i'm sure. you don't smoke now, do you, dad?" no, i don't smoke now, for christ's sake. do you really think i would start smoking at 41? on a wednesday? in the middle of the afternoon? "then why do you stink of cigarette smoke?" uh... i dunno. unless... unless it was the cigarette smoke coming from the car in front of me on spadina. i was waiting for the light at spadina and eglinton again. i could smell the smoke coming through the vents. it was really strong. i certainly noticed it at the time. i was stuck behind that car for what seemed like an eternity. the driver was hanging her still-smouldering ciggy out the window. i remember swearing at her to put her g-ddam hand back inside her g-ddam window. but she didn't hear me. i think my windows were up. truth be told, i cannot stand smokers. seriously, they really, really annoy me. for one, smokers are stupid. damn stupid. if i asked you to set alight more than 4000 chemicals and then proceed to ingest the residue into your lungs, you would probably tell me to take a hike. but smokers do this every day of their lives. and they even pay for the privilege of doing so. for another, smokers are rude. damn rude. smokers knowingly and willingly foul the air that the rest of us are forced to breathe in. second-hand smoke is known to cause cancer. second-hand smoke is known to contain carbon monoxide and other poisons. second-hand smoke causes irritation of the eyes, nose and throat. second-hand smoke causes headaches, coughing and dizziness. second-hand smoke is especially dangerous to children, pregnant women and the elderly. and yet, smokers continue to puff away without even a hint of concern for the health or safety of their fellow man. that is just plain rude. and for another, smokers are liars. damn liars. take the mean old lady across the hallway who's been bothering my family with her cigarette smoke for almost two years now. in the beginning, she denied that she was a smoker. then she told us that she had quit. then she claimed that she only smoked on her balcony. then she said that she was on the "patch." lies, lies, lies. grandma smokes just as much today as she did when she first arrived on the floor. hey, as a libertarian i don't really mind if someone engages in self-destructive behaviour, just as long as they do so within the closed confines of their own personal space. but when someone's self-destructive behaviour begins to interfere with the satisfaction and enjoyment of my life, that's where i draw the line. look, you wanna kill yourself with nasty carcinogens and toxic chemicals, be my guest. just don't blow your filthy poison into my face, capiche? haven't you looked in the mirror lately, smoker? you stink. your clothes stink. your teeth are yellow. your fingers are yellow. you don't look cool. you don't look mature. you don't impress anyone with your technique. you're weak. you're pathetic. you are a nuisance.

now that is judgmental.

"one thousand americans stop smoking every day... by dying." - unknown

step off, man... just step off: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-CDzDpSdzY

the big picture

i watched a debate on "the hour" last night concerning the existence of g-d and the need amongst humans to believe in something. and it reminded me of that year-long stretch around my seventeenth birthday, affectionately referred to as my "blue period," when i spent a considerable amount of time contemplating my place in the universe and similar questions of an existential nature. and where exactly did my blue period lead to, you may ask? why, nowhere, of course. because that's ultimately where all questions of an existential nature must lead. for the answer, my friends, is not meant to be discovered. not in our lifetimes, anyway. why are we here? what is the meaning of life? is there something waiting for us on the other side? ah, who the hell knows. and more importantly, who the hell cares. here's what i do know. some of us will win. some of us will lose. some of us will prosper. some of us will suffer. most of us will experience joy and sorrow and satisfaction and frustration at various intervals throughout our lifetimes. but in the end, this game we all play is just one big crap shoot. one giant roulette wheel. and where she stops, nobody knows. so i gave up on thinking, thinking about the bigger picture that is, right around the time of my eighteenth birthday. and i was never happier than on the day i realized that the answer i was looking for lies far beyond the realm of human comprehension. tomorrow will come. and i should be thankful for one more sunrise. and what i make of tomorrow is up to me. is there a hand up there stirring the pot and keeping on eye on things down here? maybe. but that hand will have no say in what i choose to wear for the day. or how i prepare for my first period class. or any of the other myriad decisions i'm forced to make over the next twenty-four hours. and if tomorrow turns out to be my last kick at the can, i would rather not know of that fact in advance. besides, what would i gain with that foresight in hand? would i really live my life any differently armed with the knowledge of my ultimate expiry date? nah. and until that day comes, i would prefer to see the smaller picture anyway.

"uh, we need someone to come to our school and talk to the kids about how to tie a tie." - anonymous grade 12 student

and yet he named his firstborn after a fleshy fruit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAME8GDRTfI

not the froot loops

so whether it was a violent case of the stomach flu or a violent bout of food poisoning, i get the message. loud and clear. i have to change my diet. and pronto. but am i really prepared to give up the foods i've grown up on? the foods i've grown accustomed to? the foods i've grown attached to? hey man, i love those foods. i mean, i seriously love those foods. but alas, all good things must inevitably come to an end. and so, regretfully, i must bid thee all a fond farewell. (sigh) goodbye pizza pops. goodbye japanese noodles-in-a-cup. (sniff) goodbye boston cream donuts. goodbye no. 3 combo plate with extra sweet and sour sauce from manchu wok. (sniff) goodbye doritos. goodbye hostess ding dongs. goodbye fruitopia strawberry passion. (sniff, sniff) goodbye fries and gravy. goodbye ice cream sandwiches. goodbye froot loops. (sniff) goodbye vietnamese subs. goodbye fudgee-os. goodbye bk onion rings. (sniff) goodbye chunky chicken soup. goodbye twix candy bars. goodbye jamaican beef patties. (sniff) goodbye sausage and egg mcmuffins. goodbye hash browns. goodbye filet-o-fishes. goodbye junior mc... mc... mcchickens. (sniff, sniff, sniff) parting is such sweet sorrow. perhaps one day we shall be together again.

"well, on the bright side, i suppose flintstones vitamins kinda taste a bit like candy." - reassuring soul

requiem for a lost soul: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pBo-GL9SRg

a day in the er

an afternoon in the er allows one an opportunity to reflect on some of the finer points of ontario's health care system:

• as catholicism is to the vatican, "proper hand hygiene" is to the er
• hospital gowns should come with instructions
• just because your doctor graduated from medical school doesn't mean that he graduated at the top of his class
• hospital gurneys were not designed by someone born to a mother and father standing 5'8" and 6'3" respectively
• moaning brings orderlies; crying brings nurses; screaming brings residents; threats of a lawsuit bring attending physicians
• bedpans are colder than they look
• insertion of iv needle... painful; insertion of blood work needle... more painful; removal of medical tape from hairy forearm holding iv needle in place... hell on earth
• hopping on a bus sporting a hospital bracelet and blood-soaked cotton ball typically permits the passenger a wide berth
• and finally... no one likes a smart ass in the er (sorry)

"life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon." - doug larson

'cause you never know: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qFIaI1M5kU

big leagues

so there i was trying to show my seven-year-old daughter how to throw a baseball for, like, the thousandth time. this has been going on for more than two years now. and this afternoon was no different. as i have done numerous times in the past, today i went over the mechanics of throwing a baseball with her again and again. where to position your feet. how to rotate your arm. when to release the ball. but once again, my efforts met with complete and utter failure. and so, once again, i became frustrated and dismayed. but when i told a certain someone later that afternoon about my ordeal, she replied with a rather interesting remark. "uh, maybe she doesn't like sports." (extended pause) what? my daughter doesn't like sports? how is that possible? she is, after all, at least partly the result of my genetic wonderland. and i love sports. all sports... except maybe soccer. i play sports. i watch sports. i coach sports. i live sports. i breathe sports. i die sports. when the montreal canadiens were winning stanley cup after stanley cup in the late 70's, i was there for the entire ride. it was lafleur and gainey and robinson and shutt and lemaire and dryden and me. and when the toronto blue jays were winning world series after world series in the early 90's, i was there for the entire ride, as well. it was alomar and carter and olerud and hentgen and borders and white and me. doesn't like sports? but sports are enjoyable. and exhilarating. and satisfying. and most importantly, i like sports. so how can she not like them? "well, do you like ballet?" not particularly. "because she does."

"tomorrow i'll be perfect" - anonymous

ok, but you still can't have the keys to the honda: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etundhQa724&feature=related

insomnia

the little clock in the corner of the screen says 3:14 so i know it must be late. or early. and once again i can't sleep. i can hear seven snoring from the other room. not as loudly as my old man used to snore, but pretty impressive for a seven-year-old nonetheless. due to the warm temps, the living room window is slightly ajar so i can hear the noise from street level. a gaggle of hasidim just strolled by on their way home from synagogue. heck, even the hasidim enjoy a better social life that i do. meanwhile, the automatic air freshener that sits on the bookcase to the right of the tv stand keeps blasting a trail of jasmine (or is it hyacinth?) into the ether. is it really necessary that my living space smell like the ladies' room at the four seasons? not that i would know, but i can imagine. just like i can imagine downing another buttered bagel from the tim hortons across the street. that bagel was my first taste of solid food in three days and it was good. damn good. i suppose it's true that you never really learn to appreciate something (or someone) until you're forced to live without it for awhile. elsewhere, i think the family and i will head down to high park once the sun rises. maybe even take in the zoo. ok, so it's the worst zoo known to mankind but at least it's free. and the animals don't seem to mind the company. whenever i visit, the furry things on display always seem so surprised that anyone would actually take the time to come out and tour such a crappy zoo. in fact, the last time i was there i could have sworn that one of the sheep even mouthed the words "thank you and please come again" as i was leaving. funny sheep.

"what the day giveth, the night taketh away." - anonymous

this should do the trick: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOHQs405XcU