DIGITAL PEACE

I just knew that I was going to create a problem. Santa brought a PVR and a full-meal-deal cable package this past Christmas that has brought great disturbance to the force. The installer decided that this new piece of hardware should be hooked up to the best TV in the house which turns out to be the big screen in the basement. This has been a closely held secret for the past three years, thus allowing the head of the household, in all of his manly glory, to roam the digital universe in peace and solitude, confident in his battery-draining clicking of the channel changer.

The PVR has brought an unsettling number of tourists to the island in search of Star Trek and Oprah and we (the royal we) now understand that there are approximately 125 hours of recordings of this historically significant evidence of life in the universe. The original intent of the big screen was to be able to view hockey, some travel documentaries, the occasional blockbuster movie (if an invitation had been extended), perhaps an interesting cooking show, from which a recipe could be stolen and the Planet Earth DVD's. This invasion of the sacred male sanctorum has involved the wholesale movement of most furniture items, the banishment of the treadmill to the furnace area, feminine claims to certain chairs and lamps, the need to remove dirty glasses, plates and fast food containers and a certain traffic congestion that brings great disruption to the natural order of things.

It is now crystal clear that the genie has been let out of the lamp and that it will not return unless a significant inducement is offerred. Further to the cable guy's desire to hook up the PVR to the best TV in the house, it seems that a visit to a suitable store of electronics and all things mysterious, will be in order. I have been conducting extensive research on such things as LCD, plasma (not just your father's blood supply apparently), 1080i vs. 1080P, processor speeds and HDMI inputs (are you not impressed?) and I have determined that to return peace to the planet will require the purchase of a new television with all of these above mentioned features, for placement in the main floor family room and a reconnection of the PVR to the household's best TV. Some of the specifications and benefits are still unknown to me, for instance does anyone actually know what a pixel is, and can mere mortals see one, and what does it do, and.........?

CHANGELINGS

Do you find it interesting how quickly we human doings adjust to change? For the past few days the weather around here has been frigid, although a couple of interesting adverbs are usually placed in front of the adjective, frigid. This morning when I went out to start the car (parked in the driveway, not the garage, a story for another day!)it felt much warmer, or at least, not nearly as cold -27C!!
I also find it fascinating how quickly our bodies adjust to increased activity and resistance - sometimes known as exercise. It's always interesting how much quicker they adjust to a decrease in the same thing. We adjust very easily to increased income, larger houses, new technology, most odours (with the exception of baby poop), sleep duration, heated car seats, Kona coffee, wet socks and questionable humour.
Perhaps the only thing we don't adjust to as quickly, is a change of mind. No preaching today but the difference between a good day and a bad day, happiness and despair, success and failure, acceptance and rejection, hot and cold is a change of mind.

RUB A DUB DUB

Sometimes we commit too early. Like this morning, for instance. I shaved, turned around, opened the shower door, turned on the tap and then cleaned up the sink area and weighed myself while waiting for the water to heat up. After checking to see how many commas were in the number on the digital weigh scale, I took off my glasses and stepped into the shower. Fully inside, water and steam pulsing down on me, soaked in the familiar surroundings, it struck me. I had forgotten to put a new bar of soap in the soap dish. Yesterday, I watched the last suds from the bar of Ivory (I've had a wonderful relationship with Ivory soap for almost 30 years, ever since I shared.....oh, never mind, I digress) disappear down the drain. Now, it would be one thing to have to step out of the shower, on to the mat and reach under the sink for a replacement but no, I knew there were none there. In order to get more soap, I would have to wake someone ( I'm not that brave at 5:30 AM!) or make my own way out of the bathroom, through the bedroom and into the hallway to retrieve some soap bars from the linen closet. And soaking wet at the same time! Or, I could look for an alternative source of cleansing agent. I don't know if there is any real difference between Neutragena hair shampoo and Ivory soap, probably not, but at the time, I didn't want to smell like my hair - I'm not sure why, but it was early OK. Now that I have lost 10 pounds, I can see the edges of the shower stall again and the water flows all the way down the walls to the drain. There are certain body parts that have a much better view of the shower floor than my eyes have of them (go ahead, think about it) but I was able to discern a large number of containers sitting in one corner. After allowing for my shampoo, I counted another 8 bottles of varying shapes, sizes and colours. One of them must contain soap. I'm not sure what the difference is between a soap bar and body wash and I don't want to know what body butter is - do I? I located one bottle that promised a gentle, all day relief for dry skin (how the hell can skin be dry when you're standing in a shower?) so I squeezed a bunch on my hand and enjoyed (but not too much) rubbing it all over and became aware of a familiar smell. Once in a while, my kids, when they were babies and had clean diapers, smelled like this and now I do too. I'm apparently baby fresh for the rest of the day.

And you thought this was going to be all philosophical and deeply intellectual and stuff. Just good clean writing and try to lose some of the visuals from your mind.

A BUCKET LIST

On Friday night I saw my movie hero, Jack Nicholson along with Morgan Freeman in The Bucket List. You can always tell a good movie because it makes us laugh one minute and perhaps a little catch in the throat,(or was that something in my eye? I had a cold you know!) the next. You can read reviews and stuff elsewhere but it did get me thinking about my own list. I wondered whether, at the time of our passing, we will regret the things we did, or the things we didn't do, more? Not that it will change the results of the story but it might change the quality of the passing. Perhaps it is too fine a point for some, but I seem to have both kinds of lists. Before I die, I want to learn to surf, sail, write a best seller, see Machu Pichu and on and on - all "doing" things. On the other list, there seems to be a number of things that I can't change without a time travel machine and so, what to "do" about them, is the question. One thing I thought about is making sure that history doesn't repeat itself by creating a "being" list. In the future, but starting today, I want to be more joyful, I intend to live with more passion, I will advance every day a step closer to my dreams and I intend to keep adding to the lists.
At this point, I will need to live to a hundred, so I'd better add a new blender to the list.

The question for the day, is it even possible to have "fat free" Carnation condensed milk? It doesn't taste the same in my coffee and it's too early for Amarula.

MEMORIES, I HAVE A FEW

Reminiscing seems to be good for the soul. In addition to the cathartic effects of sometimes discovering truths about yourself and others, the effort to remember events in their stark veracity, can produce a new reality and a new layer of knowledge that brings into the light past decisions and offers the opportunity to heal ancient scars. Yesterday was such a day for me as I had three separate occasions to review part of my own history.
Lunch, with the same partner from a week ago, produced no new toenail polish stories but he asked me a question about whether I see myself as a conventional thinker or somewhat more radical in my approach to life. I feel that I have a fairly conventional way of thinking but can't help myself from pricking the balloon of conformity on occasion (see blog from Tuesday). I am a product of the sixties when every accepted norm was in play. Everything from government to love was poked, prodded, turned upside down, challenged and then someone would write a song about it. I learned a certain irreverence for accepted behaviour as I bounced back and forth between trying to fit in and wanting to display my independence.
"Did I live inside the box or did I prefer an existence outside the lines?" he asked. Both, would be my reply. I just love to do small and inconsequential things that produce major problems for others. For instance, and please, I urge you to try this, when you pull into a parking lot that is almost empty, don't park near the entrance doors. First of all, if you have a passenger, it will tick them off to no end ( I just assume that they could probably use the excercise but you decide if you want to say that) but even better, when you arrive at the back row, not another car in sight, park over top of the lines instead of in between them. It will drive anyone who sees this absolutely nuts. I just figure that I didn't draw the lines, no one asked me where to paint them and I get to fly in the face of people who have this need to follow the rules no matter what.
My favourite however is saved for the grocery store. When I walk up to the checkout counter and place my items on the conveyor belt, I frequently, and especially if there is a woman of a "certain age" behind me, pick up the little divider provided to separate the customers groceries from one another, turn it on its side and then lay it on the belt at a 45 degree angle behind my items. I guarantee that the person behind will move it as soon as you turn your back to them. They will usually throw a look of total disgust at you for this assault on all that is holy. A grin drives them right around the bend. I love it!
One of the other things I discovered during lunch is that my movie hero is Jack Nicholson - slightly licentious, always irrascible and consistently irreverent - I can't imagine why I would look up to him. For a guy with his looks, he always got the good looking girl, too. Right on, Jack!

ME TO WE, part 2

If you're still here after yesterday's blog, then it says as much about your taste in writing as it does about mine. Burgundy boxers today, how about you?
You may recall that I have been extolling the virtues of Craig and Marc Kielburger's wonderful book, Me To We in recent posts. In essence, they put forward a philosophy that one of our main purposes on this earth is to share our gifts with others. The route to true happiness is found in the joy that giving from ourselves, from our heart, from the basket of abundance that each of us possesses, changes us at a soul level. While we ourselves experience this change, the world that we choose to help experiences the benefit of a lift up. I'm always a little skeptical of big, monolithic and bureaucratic charitable organizations with large buildings, staffs and slick marketing campaigns. The fact that they are not required to provide any audited financial statements always raises my curiosity and so, when I see people who are serious about helping, serious enough to work at ground level by providing their own labour and sweat, then I get this warm and fuzzy. There is a link on the right hand side of the page and I urge you to at least take a look at some of the projects that Free the Children are involved in. Perhaps you could find a way to help, too?????
Next up on the reading list is a book written by John Wood whom you may have seen on television recently. He left Microsoft at the height of his career and earnings to collect used books to distribute to poor and illiterate nations starting in Nepal. A cause very close to my own heart is education because I believe that the way to change the world is to teach the 850 million people who can't read and write to do so. Feed, heal and teach, the road to peace and true happiness for all of us.

BRIEFS OR BOXERS

Well, sometimes we just have to take on the major issues of our time. We can't get our shirts in a knot, become frustrated or shrink from our responsibilities. Ladies, this here is man talk and we must ask you not to read any further. We will be revealing feelings, confronting age old beliefs and uncovering situations far too sensitive for your delicate eyes and ears. Thank you for reading no further.

OK, guys, now that it is just us, let's get to business as we confront the age old question of mankind, "Whether 'tis nobler in the hind to suffer the slings and horrors of outrageous skivies or is it better to cast aside our constrictions and embrace an eyre of independence." Shakespeare said something like that until his editor insisted on a rewrite - really! I had thought about adding a poll to this blog to discover how many of us wear boxers and how many wear briefs, but I figured some of you would use a different spelling of the word "poll" and then we would degenerate into a series of bad puns, short jokes and all sorts of word mayhem would ensue.
It seems to me that there is a time and place for both voluminous boxers and form-fitting briefs alike. Let's face it, the women have it easy - they can wear almost anything, or better still nothing, so long as whatever they choose is combined with a garter belt and high heels - job done, the perfect outfit for any occasion. We, on the other hand, must give careful consideration to so many factors like colour, size, comfort, "dressing" preference and of course the potential for some kind of exposure. As you know, some things are just not right, for instance, while sitting on the patio in a pair of shorts, boxers are so inappropriate when your legs are akimbo and we can't help but notice a significant degree of discomfort from those sitting across from us. In this case, briefs keep the package wrapped and there is little risk of sunburn as an added benefit. If the colour you choose is close to the colour of your outerwear, then a certain degree of mystery can heighten the curiosity of the opposite number (hopefully, they are also the opposite sex, but who am I to judge?). This is very important gentlemen, white briefs, sometimes referred to as, tighty whiteys, are only appropriate on two occasions - when you are playing tennis at a conventional club and if you are in the U.S. Navy and going on parade. Otherwise, choose a colour. You can just imagine the embarrassment of finding yourself in the bedroom unexpectedly, and as the moment of truth arrives you stand with your back to the bed to allow your Dockers to slide down your thighs and hear a slight gasp as your lady-love spots the vertical residue that has attached itself and is in high contrast to its snowy white host and then as you turn to face her, you realize that you didn't shake before reentry and the humiliation doubles. All thoughts of romance now destroyed because you didn't take the necessary precautions and at the age most of you have reached - it may be your last chance. Don't let this happen to you - wear anything but white! And while we are at it, the leopard skin printed thong, sometimes called a banana-hammock, is never appropriate if you are over the age of 20.
Boxers also present a few issues that need to be discussed. Because of their excess fabric, we find that they often cling to our trousers and after sitting for any length of time, a certain adjustment is required to release their folds from our folds. This can be awkward in restaurants and other public places. I also find it dangerous to be hurtling down the highway and requiring a massive shift of undergarment in order to return my voice to its usually dulcet basso tones. Also, we need to address the manufacturers of said garments; the type of material you use is very important. Too often, we have found that boxers with funny sayings, beer signs and sports team logos are made of a very stiff fabric thus causing excessive chafing and discomfiture to the nether regions. And one more thing, is it too much to expect a button on every flap - for God's sake, I'll pay the extra 5 cents to avoid the feeling of helplessness when the boys are accidentally set free! This usually happens as I address a room full of people expecting wisdom and no lectern in sight. Oh, the travails of being a man - if only women understood the oppression and stress of maintaining this high standard of excellence. "Woe be unto us!"pleaded Bill Shakespeare, until his wife made him change it.