Friday, August 31, 2012
Yeah, just this. Fun though, you'll thank me later
Okay, penultimate horse to cross the finish line (I'm referencing an amazing joke from last wednesday's D&D Live show at the Comedy Bar, but you wouldn't know that unless you were there or unless I specifically told you about it. Guess that'll never happen!)
Aaaah, five minutes to go.
Okay, I'm going to cheatiest bit of cheat that ever cheated.
Batman Maybe!: http://youtu.be/jJ5l5ls0hP4
Aaaah, five minutes to go.
Okay, I'm going to cheatiest bit of cheat that ever cheated.
Batman Maybe!: http://youtu.be/jJ5l5ls0hP4
OOO theme!!
Cool Geoff, this is for you- a link to the annoying but thought sticky into brain-ness music for Kame Rider OOO.
My ability to form non- Buffy speak sentences is rapidly deteriorating. I usually do that for fun, now it's a case of not being able to sit back and actually phrase appropriately. Okay, the use of the word 'appropriately' is somewhat redeeming.
Ooh, 'redeeming'!
Anyways! There's a creepy evil hand gauntlet thing, and it's technically the same species as the monster enemies of the series, yet he works with the hero to further his own ends, and yes, much redeeming will ensue by the series end (I assume) but for the beginning of the series, this is just weird:
http://youtu.be/5WaQZvygeL4
Ah, the rap ska opening kills me. But it's also insanely catchy!
My ability to form non- Buffy speak sentences is rapidly deteriorating. I usually do that for fun, now it's a case of not being able to sit back and actually phrase appropriately. Okay, the use of the word 'appropriately' is somewhat redeeming.
Ooh, 'redeeming'!
Anyways! There's a creepy evil hand gauntlet thing, and it's technically the same species as the monster enemies of the series, yet he works with the hero to further his own ends, and yes, much redeeming will ensue by the series end (I assume) but for the beginning of the series, this is just weird:
http://youtu.be/5WaQZvygeL4
Ah, the rap ska opening kills me. But it's also insanely catchy!
Badminton gate
I'd been wanting to talk about this for the past month, and I really should have done that already. I blew it, so sue me for lack of blog making.
(I made sure to suggest an actual ridiculous charge, as I was taught to avoid that phrase growing up, what with it being such a litigious world even in the 90's... this lesson may be too extreme for reality, or else too superstitious when actual reflected on)
During the Olympics there was a kerfuffle regarding four top teams intentionally throwing matches (two teams were trying to lose a match... when they were paired against each other. They were booed for the bad show by the paying attendees).
I must have learned about this from the Penny Arcade guys, who linked to this article: http://www.sirlin.net/blog/2012/8/1/playing-to-win-in-badminton.html
From the context of the Penny Arcade post, i.e. the lack of denouncement, it was clear that my beloved Penny Arcade was in favour of the contents of this article.
I, however, am not. (It's okay, I still love Penny Arcade)
The article writer takes issue with the scorn heaped on the athletes for taking advantage of a scoring system/player matching system that could be manipulated so that a better team can aim for a weaker team, thereby helping themselves win gold or silver or whatever. While I ultimately agree that the rules shouldn't make it plausible for a player to WANT to lose, and that the rules should be ammended in the future to counteract this problem, I completely disagree that it is the people who made the rules that should be booed (sp?) and who are, in his offensive phrasing, "pathetic".
Wishy-washy though it may be, there actually IS a rule already in place for this kind of behaviour. It states that Olympic athletes are supposed to play to their fullest ability to promote the spirit of good sportsmanship and good... uh, good faith playing.
Argh, I'm really running out of time, can't think of appropriate wordage in 15 minutes for, what, 4 posts?
Look, you come to the Olympic games to represent something better than medal grubbing, despite how the powers that be in the U.S. and China, and yes, even Canada, make it seem.
(I made sure to suggest an actual ridiculous charge, as I was taught to avoid that phrase growing up, what with it being such a litigious world even in the 90's... this lesson may be too extreme for reality, or else too superstitious when actual reflected on)
During the Olympics there was a kerfuffle regarding four top teams intentionally throwing matches (two teams were trying to lose a match... when they were paired against each other. They were booed for the bad show by the paying attendees).
I must have learned about this from the Penny Arcade guys, who linked to this article: http://www.sirlin.net/blog/2012/8/1/playing-to-win-in-badminton.html
From the context of the Penny Arcade post, i.e. the lack of denouncement, it was clear that my beloved Penny Arcade was in favour of the contents of this article.
I, however, am not. (It's okay, I still love Penny Arcade)
The article writer takes issue with the scorn heaped on the athletes for taking advantage of a scoring system/player matching system that could be manipulated so that a better team can aim for a weaker team, thereby helping themselves win gold or silver or whatever. While I ultimately agree that the rules shouldn't make it plausible for a player to WANT to lose, and that the rules should be ammended in the future to counteract this problem, I completely disagree that it is the people who made the rules that should be booed (sp?) and who are, in his offensive phrasing, "pathetic".
Wishy-washy though it may be, there actually IS a rule already in place for this kind of behaviour. It states that Olympic athletes are supposed to play to their fullest ability to promote the spirit of good sportsmanship and good... uh, good faith playing.
Argh, I'm really running out of time, can't think of appropriate wordage in 15 minutes for, what, 4 posts?
Look, you come to the Olympic games to represent something better than medal grubbing, despite how the powers that be in the U.S. and China, and yes, even Canada, make it seem.
Zombies, Trekkies and jerks
My friend Maddie (well, one of my friends named Maddie, I've got at least two) wrote an article for the Globe and Mail, as she's wont to do, this time about Speed Dating at the fanexpo.
The article can be found here: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/relationships/dressed-up-and-looking-for-love/article4510463/
I was quite excited when I heard she'd be doing this.. well, because I thought it'd be cool! Fanexpo? That's a thing I like! Speed dating? Ooo, lurid!
Now that I've finally read it, I did indeed enjoy it- it could have used more space and description (but I'm theoretically into Gonzo journalism, disregarding even the idea of biasless reporting, though it's a fine sublime goal to strive for) however I'm well aware of the kind of space constraints that are imposed on writers for these kinds of things. Secondly, if you aren't capturing the essence of an event that someone may have been interested in experiencing for themselves (my philosophy for the best kind of reporting, at least for cultural events and life style pieces), then your article is likely to be the kind that attempts to answer some question, whether or not any real question was asked in the first place.
Wow, yes, run on sentence much? But yeah, I tend to be annoyed by the kind of ending flourishes that suggest some new wisdom gained by the experience. To steal a great Simpsons line: Lisa - "Maybe there is no moral here." Homer - "EXACTLY, it's just a bunch of stuff that happened!"
The comments for the article, a historically rough place to visit, are generally unfair. I know, I know, big surprise. The one guy who suggested that Maddie be ashamed for giving hopes to some random dudes, manipulating them for an article, is especially off base because, as some other commentor noted, dude, it's a 3 minute speed date, not a proposal! (I've completely paraphrased here, not to mention my complicated usage of commas and, again, run on sentence)
While there may have been a case against the article on the basis that Maddie has taken a seat from someone that would have used it in the spirit of the event, that doesn't hold up. Yes, men were cut from the event, but no word on women getting cut.. probably for lack of numers. In which case, Maddie's presence allowed one extra guy to get in and meet all the other people there. That's not even counting the free publicity for the even via this article, in which case Maddie's was a "seed seat" for the future. (wow, there's... something very wrong with that turn of phrase)
The accusation of manipulation is an unfair one to level at her. Not that it necessarily doesn't apply, but it's an issue with reporting as a profession in general. True, she could have wasted time from the 3 minute dates (or 30 seconds, I forget how long they were, 3 minutes sounds right) to explain her situation, but that would alter the results of her experience. So too with a straight interview with people leaving the speed dating event. As an anonymous attendee, her's was a pefectly valid avenue to pursue her article. If you have a problem with reporters in general, maybe it's hypocritical to hang out at the globe and mail website.
I'm way behind on my postings, so I better get on to another one.
The article can be found here: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/relationships/dressed-up-and-looking-for-love/article4510463/
I was quite excited when I heard she'd be doing this.. well, because I thought it'd be cool! Fanexpo? That's a thing I like! Speed dating? Ooo, lurid!
Now that I've finally read it, I did indeed enjoy it- it could have used more space and description (but I'm theoretically into Gonzo journalism, disregarding even the idea of biasless reporting, though it's a fine sublime goal to strive for) however I'm well aware of the kind of space constraints that are imposed on writers for these kinds of things. Secondly, if you aren't capturing the essence of an event that someone may have been interested in experiencing for themselves (my philosophy for the best kind of reporting, at least for cultural events and life style pieces), then your article is likely to be the kind that attempts to answer some question, whether or not any real question was asked in the first place.
Wow, yes, run on sentence much? But yeah, I tend to be annoyed by the kind of ending flourishes that suggest some new wisdom gained by the experience. To steal a great Simpsons line: Lisa - "Maybe there is no moral here." Homer - "EXACTLY, it's just a bunch of stuff that happened!"
The comments for the article, a historically rough place to visit, are generally unfair. I know, I know, big surprise. The one guy who suggested that Maddie be ashamed for giving hopes to some random dudes, manipulating them for an article, is especially off base because, as some other commentor noted, dude, it's a 3 minute speed date, not a proposal! (I've completely paraphrased here, not to mention my complicated usage of commas and, again, run on sentence)
While there may have been a case against the article on the basis that Maddie has taken a seat from someone that would have used it in the spirit of the event, that doesn't hold up. Yes, men were cut from the event, but no word on women getting cut.. probably for lack of numers. In which case, Maddie's presence allowed one extra guy to get in and meet all the other people there. That's not even counting the free publicity for the even via this article, in which case Maddie's was a "seed seat" for the future. (wow, there's... something very wrong with that turn of phrase)
The accusation of manipulation is an unfair one to level at her. Not that it necessarily doesn't apply, but it's an issue with reporting as a profession in general. True, she could have wasted time from the 3 minute dates (or 30 seconds, I forget how long they were, 3 minutes sounds right) to explain her situation, but that would alter the results of her experience. So too with a straight interview with people leaving the speed dating event. As an anonymous attendee, her's was a pefectly valid avenue to pursue her article. If you have a problem with reporters in general, maybe it's hypocritical to hang out at the globe and mail website.
I'm way behind on my postings, so I better get on to another one.
Moving day, superstar
Wow, what a long day! Spent the entirety of it helping my bro Cool Geoff move. There's a lot of exhaustion in this house right now, but it feels pretty good.
I got to coin the 'slinky maneouver' for how we moved the couch downstairs (it's basically how it sounds... brilliant!) and me and my newest bud Mike (we'd met before though..) got to use our combined brains to fill up a storage container to its utmost capacity.
Basically, it feels good to have done something that is actually useful with my work time.
The only snag was when Geoff had a bit of a shock/scare, no doubt exacerbated by his supreme tiredness/stress combo. He's super tough though, and bounced right back. Still, I'm glad he's asleep now.
I really wish he could sleep in a little longer before returning to finish off the apartment, but the clock is a ticking. And speaking of a ticking clock, I should get to sleep too.
I got to coin the 'slinky maneouver' for how we moved the couch downstairs (it's basically how it sounds... brilliant!) and me and my newest bud Mike (we'd met before though..) got to use our combined brains to fill up a storage container to its utmost capacity.
Basically, it feels good to have done something that is actually useful with my work time.
The only snag was when Geoff had a bit of a shock/scare, no doubt exacerbated by his supreme tiredness/stress combo. He's super tough though, and bounced right back. Still, I'm glad he's asleep now.
I really wish he could sleep in a little longer before returning to finish off the apartment, but the clock is a ticking. And speaking of a ticking clock, I should get to sleep too.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Little Mother Teresa quote
I have to go to bed, so just a quick note while no one's looking. I found this Mother Teresa quote on the facebook, and yeah it's cheesy, but here's the length of it:
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
The particular thing that struck me, as an admonishment I suppose, was the second bit. "If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway."
I have actually used this reasoning to not be especially good in certain situations... the best example being that time I was out with a group of friends and we were walking home and my one friend was coatless and cold. I would have been happy to loan my own jacket, but instead I suggested someone else do it.
Of course my reasoning was two fold in that situation: not only did I want to avoid the accusation of ulterior motives, but I knew the guy I suggested to give up his own jacket is the sort that would leap at the chance to be helpful. The girl got the jacket, my buddy felt the self sacrificing hero, and I remained safely anonymous... uh, so basically I did have an ulterior motive.
Then again, I may be remembering one crucial detail wrong- she may not have accepted the guys jacket, because, and this is another good reason not to offer the jacket myself, women aren't intrinsically delicate little creatures that need some mans protection.
I may have mentioned this incident before, I forget that too. I probably have. But not with the quote! That's new!
So yeah, was my action a good faith one? I'm not sure, I could use help deciding on that one.
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
The particular thing that struck me, as an admonishment I suppose, was the second bit. "If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway."
I have actually used this reasoning to not be especially good in certain situations... the best example being that time I was out with a group of friends and we were walking home and my one friend was coatless and cold. I would have been happy to loan my own jacket, but instead I suggested someone else do it.
Of course my reasoning was two fold in that situation: not only did I want to avoid the accusation of ulterior motives, but I knew the guy I suggested to give up his own jacket is the sort that would leap at the chance to be helpful. The girl got the jacket, my buddy felt the self sacrificing hero, and I remained safely anonymous... uh, so basically I did have an ulterior motive.
Then again, I may be remembering one crucial detail wrong- she may not have accepted the guys jacket, because, and this is another good reason not to offer the jacket myself, women aren't intrinsically delicate little creatures that need some mans protection.
I may have mentioned this incident before, I forget that too. I probably have. But not with the quote! That's new!
So yeah, was my action a good faith one? I'm not sure, I could use help deciding on that one.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Zen in the Art of Writing
I wasn't expecting the tone I got in this Ray Bradbury collection of essays. I'd read Farenheit 451, certainly, a tale of a distopian future, and I'd heard an anecdote from this one comic writer who had met Bradbury telling of his espoused "1000 words a day" which sounded a little severe (even though, when you actually think about it, that's not so great a number... But I liked the Hemingway goal of 250 GOOD words a day. But these guys have VERY different philosophies)
Finally, there was Bradbury's push against the digital book players.
All together, I expected a very harsh taskmaster in this book on writing.
Not so!
If the goofily smiling, cat holding man pictured on the books jacket wasn't indication enough of a warmer spirit, then how about.. you know what? I bet dollars to donuts the first line of the book will be revelatory (fingers crossed, let's take a look). Okay, how about the title of the first essay:
HOW TO CLIMB THE TREE OF LIFE, THROW ROCKS AT YOURSELF, AND GET DOWN AGAIN WITHOUT BREAKING YOUR BONES OR YOUR SPIRIT
A PREFACE WITH A TITLE NOT MUCH LONGER THAN THE BOOK
What I found in these pages is a man of joyful exuberance, who made sure to note the beauty in the world. The essays here, while often covering similar ground, no less made me want to run, literally and figuratively, and dance and play with words and actually create.
His weekly (if not more often) journey from word associated concept, to analysis, to story, is fascinating, especially to a guy that falters at that last part. Story's are conflict resolved, something wants to be something else. I always get stuck there.
WORK! RELAXATION! DON'T THINK! are his big rules from the actual "Zen in the Art of Writing" essay, and I quite like them. Let your work be fun, is the general sense of it, as well as the classic quote that Bradbury isn't intentionally referencing, but I couldn't help but have it come to mind.
"Don't think. Feel."
I think that was some fictional martial arts teacher that said that to Bruce Lee in Year of the Dragon or some such movie. I was thinking how, because there's the character Chie from Persona 4 that uses the phrase, that there's a useful lens for understanding... I mean it reminded me how there'd be Bruce Lee's interpretation of that line, there'd be Chie's interpretation of that line, and there'd be mine. Though it's a pretty basic concept, every person would inevitably invoke it in some way ultimately unique to each individual.
That may have been a bit off topic.
Don't think! Feel!
Finally, there was Bradbury's push against the digital book players.
All together, I expected a very harsh taskmaster in this book on writing.
Not so!
If the goofily smiling, cat holding man pictured on the books jacket wasn't indication enough of a warmer spirit, then how about.. you know what? I bet dollars to donuts the first line of the book will be revelatory (fingers crossed, let's take a look). Okay, how about the title of the first essay:
HOW TO CLIMB THE TREE OF LIFE, THROW ROCKS AT YOURSELF, AND GET DOWN AGAIN WITHOUT BREAKING YOUR BONES OR YOUR SPIRIT
A PREFACE WITH A TITLE NOT MUCH LONGER THAN THE BOOK
What I found in these pages is a man of joyful exuberance, who made sure to note the beauty in the world. The essays here, while often covering similar ground, no less made me want to run, literally and figuratively, and dance and play with words and actually create.
His weekly (if not more often) journey from word associated concept, to analysis, to story, is fascinating, especially to a guy that falters at that last part. Story's are conflict resolved, something wants to be something else. I always get stuck there.
WORK! RELAXATION! DON'T THINK! are his big rules from the actual "Zen in the Art of Writing" essay, and I quite like them. Let your work be fun, is the general sense of it, as well as the classic quote that Bradbury isn't intentionally referencing, but I couldn't help but have it come to mind.
"Don't think. Feel."
I think that was some fictional martial arts teacher that said that to Bruce Lee in Year of the Dragon or some such movie. I was thinking how, because there's the character Chie from Persona 4 that uses the phrase, that there's a useful lens for understanding... I mean it reminded me how there'd be Bruce Lee's interpretation of that line, there'd be Chie's interpretation of that line, and there'd be mine. Though it's a pretty basic concept, every person would inevitably invoke it in some way ultimately unique to each individual.
That may have been a bit off topic.
Don't think! Feel!
Friday, August 24, 2012
D&D Live, 24hr poor service, a waterworld
A very fun experience was had Wednesday when Cool Geoff and I attended "D&D Live" at the Comedy Bar. We went to support an old high school pal, fortunately it was plain fun on its own. I'll definitely check it out next Wednesday as well.
The idea is relatively straightforward, a group of improv people are dressed in the roles of different dungeons and dragons characters, the dungeon master is in charge of whether certain things they try to do succeed or not, and the various non player characters set the stage in our minds eye, or play extras or whatever. They use a giant 20 sided dice that they get the audience to roll for those big story altering challenges. Ah, also, they had a smoke machine going (the whole bar was hazy when we walked in, not just the room with the stage) and LASERS!
Having lasers isn't even fair, of course it'll turn out cool.
Afterwards Cool Geoff and I wandered the wastes of the Ossington area, heading towards the Lakeview restaurant, a 24 hr establishment I've been to on several occasions (and yet I'm still unsure whether or not I've got the name right..) and it took forever to get the check and head out. We had a good time, but man we had to work to get out.
Right, while on the topic, note to self, I own Geoff $9, don't forget it.
To finish off the post, my dream last night consisted of getting put into a kind of chryogenic suspension just as dark storms heralded the flooding of the world. When I woke up I was on a cramped ship, more submarine than yacht (or whatever) and everyone else on board had been living in this new water world order for some months (years?), competing for scarce resources with other ships, as well as a variety of survivor that had taken to the air in these great armoured looking bug ships.. I can't think of any bug name that would be a quick reference for what these things looked like, but they longer than they were wide, but not very much so, a blocky sort of shape, with dozens of squat legs on either side crawling/swimming through the air.
Near the end of the dream there was a sort of gas released in the atmosphere that caused everyone to become happy. It was understood to be a temporary effect, almost like this was some new kind of weather.. I could easily see that as a creation to stave off the effects of cabin fever, and thus a control mechansim specifically designed for that purpose. A Soma (re: Brave New World) to keep the people from realising who had ruined their world? Either a member of the 1% or an alien presence... which amounts to the same thing, for all the difference it'd make.
There actually was a sort of lizard creature I found in the hold, a member of what I understood to be an enemy species, and yet it was clear that this creature was benign, kept hidden away from the rest of the crew to keep her from harm.
As a final point, everyone seemed to have some memory problems regarding life before the flooding, which is a very Lost-ish thing to do. Or at least, I assume it is, having never actually seen an episode of Lost.
The idea is relatively straightforward, a group of improv people are dressed in the roles of different dungeons and dragons characters, the dungeon master is in charge of whether certain things they try to do succeed or not, and the various non player characters set the stage in our minds eye, or play extras or whatever. They use a giant 20 sided dice that they get the audience to roll for those big story altering challenges. Ah, also, they had a smoke machine going (the whole bar was hazy when we walked in, not just the room with the stage) and LASERS!
Having lasers isn't even fair, of course it'll turn out cool.
Afterwards Cool Geoff and I wandered the wastes of the Ossington area, heading towards the Lakeview restaurant, a 24 hr establishment I've been to on several occasions (and yet I'm still unsure whether or not I've got the name right..) and it took forever to get the check and head out. We had a good time, but man we had to work to get out.
Right, while on the topic, note to self, I own Geoff $9, don't forget it.
To finish off the post, my dream last night consisted of getting put into a kind of chryogenic suspension just as dark storms heralded the flooding of the world. When I woke up I was on a cramped ship, more submarine than yacht (or whatever) and everyone else on board had been living in this new water world order for some months (years?), competing for scarce resources with other ships, as well as a variety of survivor that had taken to the air in these great armoured looking bug ships.. I can't think of any bug name that would be a quick reference for what these things looked like, but they longer than they were wide, but not very much so, a blocky sort of shape, with dozens of squat legs on either side crawling/swimming through the air.
Near the end of the dream there was a sort of gas released in the atmosphere that caused everyone to become happy. It was understood to be a temporary effect, almost like this was some new kind of weather.. I could easily see that as a creation to stave off the effects of cabin fever, and thus a control mechansim specifically designed for that purpose. A Soma (re: Brave New World) to keep the people from realising who had ruined their world? Either a member of the 1% or an alien presence... which amounts to the same thing, for all the difference it'd make.
There actually was a sort of lizard creature I found in the hold, a member of what I understood to be an enemy species, and yet it was clear that this creature was benign, kept hidden away from the rest of the crew to keep her from harm.
As a final point, everyone seemed to have some memory problems regarding life before the flooding, which is a very Lost-ish thing to do. Or at least, I assume it is, having never actually seen an episode of Lost.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Funeral of last tuesday
Behind on things here. I don't think I've been around to mention losing my job- I lost it, by the way. It feels amazing to sleep at night. I probably won't stop talking about that little gift for a while. I may have a line on an extremely part time fun gig. A couple more of those and I'll be all set.
Additionally, I know last time or the time before that I mentioned my Mor Mor. It should come as no surprise that she's died by now. The funeral was last week. I was asked to read a bible passage during the service, and I really messed it up, started at the wrong place, didn't read in the flow of the sentence, missing punctutation marks. Basically I felt pretty stupid, AND horrible, because it's not just some random bible reading. It's my grandmothers funeral! I kept thinking what if I've totally offended grandpa with that slipshod job. Of course I was thinking that while reading, which hardly helped things.
Mental note: read through the passage first before reading out loud, also, maybe grab a bible that didn't have a gillion little footnote markings that can easily be confused for punctuation.
My brother Simon, on the other hand, was amazing! He read through a tribute to Mor Mor that my mother wrote ten years ago for a school assignment at Ryerson. Simon breathed life into the words, he had the audience laughing, it was a fantastic performance. I got completely choked up by the beauty of Simon and my mom teaming up for this job. I think mom would have been heartbroken that here mother had died, but even she would have laughed and felt a moment of lightness because of Simon. Basically, I love that guy.
I was unprepared for the call to pallbearer action. I had a plate of food that I didn't want to go to waste, so I crammed what I could in my mouth, and dropped my carrots into my breastpocket (don't worry, no visible bump, there weren't that many) but yes, overall, very gauche activities on my part. In my defense, there ARE starving children in Africa.
My brothers and I, Uncle Roy, and some other random guy were the pallbearers. We didn't have any notable trouble getting the casket in the hearse, however when the time came to take the thing out and place it over the grave we seemed to make an error. On my side of the casket there was myself, Simon (a big guy) and Uncle Roy, who works on a ranch and is totally strong. On the other side there was PJ and Jordan. Those guys... uh, are weak. Jordan's working on it, going to the gym, but that didn't help at the time. Worse yet, PJ was at the head of the casket on his side, and he's not exactly a leader of men. I could feel the strain on that side, and I hope it's just my imagination that percieved a dipping. We made it, but it should never be that hard.
Afterwards Jordan said how it didn't even feel like he was lifting at all... guess what bud, that wasn't just a feeling!!
Next time, Simon and myself on either side of the front end of the casket.
Next time? Wow, okay, that's a cheery thought.
Additionally, I know last time or the time before that I mentioned my Mor Mor. It should come as no surprise that she's died by now. The funeral was last week. I was asked to read a bible passage during the service, and I really messed it up, started at the wrong place, didn't read in the flow of the sentence, missing punctutation marks. Basically I felt pretty stupid, AND horrible, because it's not just some random bible reading. It's my grandmothers funeral! I kept thinking what if I've totally offended grandpa with that slipshod job. Of course I was thinking that while reading, which hardly helped things.
Mental note: read through the passage first before reading out loud, also, maybe grab a bible that didn't have a gillion little footnote markings that can easily be confused for punctuation.
My brother Simon, on the other hand, was amazing! He read through a tribute to Mor Mor that my mother wrote ten years ago for a school assignment at Ryerson. Simon breathed life into the words, he had the audience laughing, it was a fantastic performance. I got completely choked up by the beauty of Simon and my mom teaming up for this job. I think mom would have been heartbroken that here mother had died, but even she would have laughed and felt a moment of lightness because of Simon. Basically, I love that guy.
I was unprepared for the call to pallbearer action. I had a plate of food that I didn't want to go to waste, so I crammed what I could in my mouth, and dropped my carrots into my breastpocket (don't worry, no visible bump, there weren't that many) but yes, overall, very gauche activities on my part. In my defense, there ARE starving children in Africa.
My brothers and I, Uncle Roy, and some other random guy were the pallbearers. We didn't have any notable trouble getting the casket in the hearse, however when the time came to take the thing out and place it over the grave we seemed to make an error. On my side of the casket there was myself, Simon (a big guy) and Uncle Roy, who works on a ranch and is totally strong. On the other side there was PJ and Jordan. Those guys... uh, are weak. Jordan's working on it, going to the gym, but that didn't help at the time. Worse yet, PJ was at the head of the casket on his side, and he's not exactly a leader of men. I could feel the strain on that side, and I hope it's just my imagination that percieved a dipping. We made it, but it should never be that hard.
Afterwards Jordan said how it didn't even feel like he was lifting at all... guess what bud, that wasn't just a feeling!!
Next time, Simon and myself on either side of the front end of the casket.
Next time? Wow, okay, that's a cheery thought.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Mor Mor
At about 1am this morning my Mor Mor died.
We went to visit her a week ago Thursday, a difficult trip in many respects. I had only gotten two hours sleep (a little less, actually) when I got the call from my dad to head downtown to help pick up the rental car. It had been a while since we've all been piled in together in a car. I mostly faux annoyed my youngest brother with "interesting" points about Kame Rider- this was actually pretty fun and funny, though you may have had to be there. I really kept it going all day, it was impressive, trust me.
We drove down to the hospital in Cobourg.
Mor Mor had been suffering from dimentia, it's been about two years since I could convincingly state "yes, we've talked, me to her, her to me. We've understood each other." She took a couple of hard falls in the years past, as good as any place to start having cognitive problems. She went from 60 to 0 after retiring from Girl Guides, delivering War Cry's (Salvation Army newspaper), and visiting others. People NEED those kind of mental exercises. She and my grandpa were forced to move out of the home they had had for as long as I had known them, into an apartment complex that had some caregiving services, mostly because Mor Mor couldn't navigate the stairs in their home any more, though there were other reasons as well. Hearing problems were a consistent issue, the resultant isolation couldn't have helped things. And of course she got much worse after the shock of my mom, her middle child, dying.
We drove down to the hospital in Cobourg with the understanding that this would be the last time we'd see her alive.
She wasn't eating anymore, she likely couldn't swallow even if she wanted to eat. They decided it was time, and removed the intravenous.. what? Glucose? The alternate food solution. Her breaths were relatively shallow.
What was crazy about it is when most everyone left and I held her hand for a long time, she gripped back the whole time with a strength that would surprise you. Every now and again she'd regain some life in her eyes, see around that there was some kind of presence there, and she smiled at us. There was life there! It seemed so arbitrary to say that this was it, she's on the ropes, kid.
The person who was Mor Mor to me was gone long before this morning. If she recognized Grandpa up to the end then that is nothing less than a blessing to him, and a balm to her. But don't let my regrets fool you, just as I need to not trick myself. These last few years she was scared a lot of the time, she didn't know where she was, what was happening to her, and who these strangers (caregivers) around her were. There's no question that she was suffering for too much time.
I scare myself sometimes, imagining what it would be like, walking down some random street and just forgetting everything. What is this place? How do I get home? Where is it safe?
That night last week, dad drove a bunch of the way home, but was clearly tired out and having trouble. I switched in for the rest of the trip- though I couldn't have been that much less tired! Fortunately, I was excited by the prospect of driving, since I hadn't done it in months. That and a lot of head shaking (to wake up I mean) got us home.
I'm told the funeral will be either Monday or Tuesday.
We went to visit her a week ago Thursday, a difficult trip in many respects. I had only gotten two hours sleep (a little less, actually) when I got the call from my dad to head downtown to help pick up the rental car. It had been a while since we've all been piled in together in a car. I mostly faux annoyed my youngest brother with "interesting" points about Kame Rider- this was actually pretty fun and funny, though you may have had to be there. I really kept it going all day, it was impressive, trust me.
We drove down to the hospital in Cobourg.
Mor Mor had been suffering from dimentia, it's been about two years since I could convincingly state "yes, we've talked, me to her, her to me. We've understood each other." She took a couple of hard falls in the years past, as good as any place to start having cognitive problems. She went from 60 to 0 after retiring from Girl Guides, delivering War Cry's (Salvation Army newspaper), and visiting others. People NEED those kind of mental exercises. She and my grandpa were forced to move out of the home they had had for as long as I had known them, into an apartment complex that had some caregiving services, mostly because Mor Mor couldn't navigate the stairs in their home any more, though there were other reasons as well. Hearing problems were a consistent issue, the resultant isolation couldn't have helped things. And of course she got much worse after the shock of my mom, her middle child, dying.
We drove down to the hospital in Cobourg with the understanding that this would be the last time we'd see her alive.
She wasn't eating anymore, she likely couldn't swallow even if she wanted to eat. They decided it was time, and removed the intravenous.. what? Glucose? The alternate food solution. Her breaths were relatively shallow.
What was crazy about it is when most everyone left and I held her hand for a long time, she gripped back the whole time with a strength that would surprise you. Every now and again she'd regain some life in her eyes, see around that there was some kind of presence there, and she smiled at us. There was life there! It seemed so arbitrary to say that this was it, she's on the ropes, kid.
The person who was Mor Mor to me was gone long before this morning. If she recognized Grandpa up to the end then that is nothing less than a blessing to him, and a balm to her. But don't let my regrets fool you, just as I need to not trick myself. These last few years she was scared a lot of the time, she didn't know where she was, what was happening to her, and who these strangers (caregivers) around her were. There's no question that she was suffering for too much time.
I scare myself sometimes, imagining what it would be like, walking down some random street and just forgetting everything. What is this place? How do I get home? Where is it safe?
That night last week, dad drove a bunch of the way home, but was clearly tired out and having trouble. I switched in for the rest of the trip- though I couldn't have been that much less tired! Fortunately, I was excited by the prospect of driving, since I hadn't done it in months. That and a lot of head shaking (to wake up I mean) got us home.
I'm told the funeral will be either Monday or Tuesday.
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