REDHEADS, NOT WARHEADS!

The 50^th anniversary of the Flintstones debut is today which brings about one question all men have asked each other at one time or another.  Whether it be in a locker room or at a party somewhere when they are half (or completely) hammered, invariably a Flintstones discussion boils down to this single query.

Betty or Wilma?

Ladies, I know you are rolling your eyes right now saying, “For crying out loud you losers, it is a bloody cartoon!  You NEED to determine exactly which FICTIONAL ANIMATED CHARACTER you’d rather have sex with?”

Sadly ladies… yes… yes we do.

And it doesn’t end there… When the anniversary for Gilligan’s Island comes around, millions of men in thousands of watering holes around the world will be getting into heated debates over Mary Ann or Ginger.  

Want me to go on?  Ok… we also debate about Betty Boop vs. Jessica Rabbit, Morticia Adams vs. Lily Munster, Samantha (Bewitched) vs. Jeannie (I dream of Jeannie) and of course we can’t forget Betty vs. Veronica.

It’s true.  I am guilty of it myself.  And I have been witness to some pretty heated debates over the whole thing with compelling arguments for… ok look… I realize how ridiculous it is to try and tell you all that there is ANYTHING compelling involved in discussions that surround fictional characters that men would like to get in the sack.  (I guess the good thing is that it seems to be a lot safer to discuss this than religion or politics.  That’ll get a guy hurt… or at least kicked out of the party.)

I bring this all up because there is just one thing I am trying to understand.  Why no love for the redheads?

Seriously, guys.  In every conversation I have had of this nature, if there is a redhead in the question, you guys will turn to the blonde or brunette… leaving the “Ginger” alone at night waiting by the phone.  For crying out loud a South Park episode even created “Kick a Ginger” day.

I happen to love redheads, and not because I am currently in love with one now either.  Virtually every ginger I have met has been beautiful, intelligent, and has a fiery disposition.  Hell, the fact that there are so few of them means that they are unique… why have the “same old same old” when you can be with someone intriguing and mysterious?  So guys… what’s the problem?  As the Flight of the Conchords so aptly sang… “REDHEADS NOT WARHEADS!”

(For the record, I know DAMN WELL that personality traits, physical appearance and intelligence has as much to do with a person’s hair color as it does the name of the doctor who helped your parents bring you into the world in the maternity room.  But look… I need to come up with something to talk about tonight and this is the best I can do so…)

Anyway… I’m advocating for all the “Gingers” out there; and one in particular that I love to bits and don’t get to see nearly enough of. (Yes, yes I know, enough with the schmaltzy sick love crap.)

Oh, and for the record, to wrap up any loose ends… Wilma, Ginger, Jessica Rabbit, Morticia, Jeannie and Veronica.

Whupped!

What is it about being sick that turns me into such a pansy?

Now EVERY SINGLE WOMAN READING THIS has already answered… “It’s simple Raymond… you’re a man!”

Now I am the very first to admit and have said many hundreds of times that I am “a dime a dozen”.  There isn’t anything overly unique about me in the least.  Love sports, good food, my girlfriend, my daughter, farting, video games, good times with good friends… I am your average Joe in virtually every aspect but one.

I should be dead… Twice.

I’ve told my story before in this blog, so I won’t belabor it anymore…but you would think that someone who has been near death on a couple of occasions would be able to suck it up a little and get through those really “terrible” colds and flues.

My dad had a saying for me when he would come to my games and I would be injured slightly somehow… enough to stop play.  I could always hear that voice in the crowd (and even in my head during the games where my dad couldn’t be in attendance) that would say; “Long way from the heart”.  

It was Dad’s way of telling me to persevere.  To get up and fight on through the barrier that was placed before me.  It’s a lesson that I don’t think enough people learn during their lives, but that is another blog topic for another day.

So there I was, lying in bed…head feeling like mucus and snot was about to explode forth out of every orifice of my cranium because of the sheer pressure.  My throat filled with what felt like broken glass… every shard digging into the sides of my esophagus; hacking and wheezing from coughs that would rattle my bones.   And then I heard my dad say in my head… “Long way from the heart”.

To put this into perspective… my girlfriend, a reporter currently embedded with our troops in Afghanistan, in the middle of a war zone where we hear about rocket attacks and IED’s and all sorts of human atrocity felt the need and strong desire to take care of me while I was sick with a COLD.  With more than enough on her own plate to focus on she made sure to contact me when she could and send me the “good vibes” to make me feel better because she knew I was going to be a wreck.

Suffice it to say that EVERY WOMAN READING THIS BLOG would have lived through all of this while getting the kids ready for school, and then preparing to head of to a long work day where they are over worked and under appreciated only to come home afterward and deal with the family all over again.  

On the other hand, maybe it isn’t my gender that is causing the increase in diffuclty handling illness.  Perhaps this is an age issue.  I am NOT OLD in ANY stretch of the imagination.  At 39, I still haven’t reached my prime (at least that is what I am telling myself in the hopes that I have not lived all this time and not fulfilled some romanticized “destiny” that I have for myself… again….another blog topic for another day)

However it is true… when I was younger, I don’t recall being sidelined like this by a mere cold.  Hell or high water I was going to do what needed to be done and there wasn’t a cold, twisted ankle, brain aneurysm that was gonna stop me.  Now a cold comes along and you may as well prepare me for last rights…if I believed in that (another blo…you get the point.)

What I am trying to say is:

A)    Women are tougher than men.  Case closed.

B)     I am not sure where my intestinal fortitude disappeared to, but I am hoping that it comes back to me at some point.  

It might actually come in handy.

Shameless...

This is really who I am in a nutshell.

All about letting people know what I am up to at all times whether they have an interest or not.

I make my Big Screen Debut as an actor this month at the Edmonton Film Festival, in the movie “Sure Shot Dombrowski 2, The Coaching Years”

Here’s the trailer

http://www.westerndirectives.com/ssd2.html

So… as you can probably guess this is a comedy that will make hockey movie connoisseurs hearken back to classics like “Slapshot!”, with a smaller budget and of course without the great, Paul Newman.  I have a miniscule role…I mean… I have a pivotal role in the film and the whole show couldn’t have been possible without my contribution.  (I may have been on for only about a minute and a half total time… but it’s a KEY minute and a half… plus it’s a speaking role so.)

A friend of mine recommended me to the Director when they were looking for the character I play (which after you get a chance to see the movie I am not sure if I should thank him or go punch him in the arm).

I have always enjoyed acting.  A small part of me thought that it was because I got a chance to play characters that were far more interesting than me.  However, what it really is all about is my love of telling stories and entertaining people.  

I’ve had a chance to play a number of roles; the most memorable for me was that of Jonathon Brewster in the comedy classic “Arsenic and Old Lace”.  There is something that about playing a serial killing homicidal maniac that is very liberating.  Best part of the whole experience was making the crowd hate me so much on the final night… that they actually BOOED me among the clapping during the curtain call.  Awesome!

There are many things in my life that I am thankful for and very often there come times where you wish maybe you could have done a few things over, or taken a different path.

Being on stage (and ESPECIALLY being in front of the camera) makes me think that perhaps I could have been a successful actor if I had chosen to do so.  It’s quite a rush to get into character and hear the laughter.  That being said… the term starving actor/starving artist wasn’t created for nothing now was it?

Anyway, if you get the chance, or would like to see my debut in the most important movie role I have ever been a part of… here are the dates and times.  Also it will be available in DVD for those out of country lovers of small budget hockey movies.

Screening Dates

Oct. 2 - Edmonton International Film Festival; Empire Cinema City Center
Oct. 4-7 - Globe Cinema Calgary, AB
Oct. 8 - Jan Cinema Grand Prarie, AB
Oct. 8 - Grande Cinema, Kelowna, BC
Oct. 13 - St. Mary's Theatre,  Prince Albert, Saskatchewan
Oct. 17, 18  Metro Cinema, Edmonton, Alberta
Oct. 21 Roxy Theatre, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
Nov 10 - Atlantic Cinema, Woodstock New Brunswick
Dec. 9 & 10 RPL Theatre, Regina, Saskatchewan

If you like the flick and thought I was amazing in the show… then by all means, feel free to shower me with the praise and adulation I so richly deserve.  If it wasn’t your cup of tea, then…feel free to shower me with the praise and adulation I so richly deserve.

My only concerns now… developing my IMBd file and Paparazzi.

TRUE Grit

It seems the theme of the blog this week has been about perspective, and today is no different.

I have gained a new respect for an entire generation of women who sat by their mailboxes anxiously awaiting word from their husbands/boyfriends who were off to war.

My girlfriend has landed herself in Afghanistan as a part of her job as a reporter to keep Canadians abreast of developments with our troops and what is going on in the region in general.  This is her 4^th “tour of duty” in Afghanistan… my second being home while she is in a war zone.

The first time around, I have to admit, was not good on my nerves.  Until that point I had never had anyone in my life who was placed “in harm’s way” through a job.

Let me be perfectly clear here for just a second.  I say “in harm’s way” and immediately you get pictures of her carrying a gun and going “Rambo” on the bad guys.  (You will recall that I have openly admitted to having a flair for the dramatic.) While I have seen her angry, and this blog may put her in this state, she is NOT on the front lines.  She is NOT doing the fighting.  She is merely reporting, as hundreds of other journalists have done in years past, and doing so with the most protection that can be afforded anyone.  Moving on... 

I had no idea what to expect.  I watched the 24 hour news channel almost exclusively for her first 5 week tour, not only to see her at work, but to give me the extra comfort of knowing she was safe.  She stayed in touch with me in emails and called wherever she could, probably fully aware that I was a little nervous since this was all so new.  That contact was very comforting to me and it was greatly appreciated. (Even if she wasn’t COMPLETELY forthcoming with certain details about a particular rocket attack that Canada’s Minister of Defense was subjected to.)

This time around I’m not even close to as nervous as I was previously.  I KNOW she is being careful and safe.  She stays in close contact with me…it’s just like it is if she were at her normal posting. Contact is the same... everything is copasetic.  No complaints at all.

And then I saw a little clip on the History Channel about World War I.  I didn’t stay with it long, but seeing those old black and white clips got me thinking about how difficult it was for the wives of the brave soldiers who went overseas to fight; about how they had so few options to stay in contact with their loved ones.  Moreover it highlighted how very easy I have it.

No e-mail, Skype, Instant Messenger, or 24 hour news networks.  These women waited at home and took on the jobs the men left behind, all the while waiting for letters from their loves, and praying that they didn’t receive “THAT” letter.

Knowing how much my brain wanders when left to its own devices, I can say without a doubt that I would have required hospitalization in a mental ward if I were dealing with this at that time.  (Some think that I need that type of treatment now… again…I digress.)

The fear of the unknown is a powerful thing. What these women endured mentally and emotionally, while maintaining homes, raising children and running the factories that supplied the war effort is beyond my comprehension.  It is the benchmark of strength and resolve I can only hope to achieve for myself.

 If you have grandmothers who lived through this… and you haven’t done so already… ask them to tell you about it (if it isn’t too painful) and take note of just how strong they really are. 

And pray that you won’t ever have to be tested the way they were.

Making Mountains Out Of Valleys

The high school football team from the town where I grew up is visiting the community where I live today for a game tomorrow. The following day I have the opportunity to visit some high school friends for a little reunion of sorts over good food and a few drinks.

The two of these events have forced me to do a little thinking (like I need any help with that) and I have come to a determination:

I have a flair for over-dramatization. (I can see the shock on the faces of my friends as they read this)

When people asked me about my high school years, I immediately broke into a diatribe about all the pain and suffering I endured.  That by far, those years were the worst of my life and that you couldn’t pay me enough to go back and live them again.

Now, to be fair (or to rationalize this stance of mine…you can decide yourself), not every teenager comes THIS CLOSE to death, TWICE.  A brain aneurysm at the tender age of 16 that hospitalizes you for 2 and half months and results in an 8 hour surgery that could have killed you changes your perspective a little bit.

I’d go on, ad nauseam how, even though I was a starter on virtually every sports team in the school, I was a nerd and considered among the “great unwashed” by the class population.  I was uninvited to parties, with few friends (certainly no girlfriends) and by and large just not popular in the least.

“Misery… thy name is High School!” I cried.

As I mentioned earlier, these pair of events that are taking place in the next 72 hours, have given me time to think…think about what a JACKASS I was for spreading that bullflop.

What is it about those high school years that make people dramatize them so?  Movies, TV programs, songs and novels have been written about them.  More importantly to me… why am I so hell bent on making such a big deal about it?  Is my bar of achievement set so ridiculously low, that simply making it through 4 years of school is now a badge of honor? 

What I “survived” is a pittance compared to what so many can TRULY describe as teenage hardship.  I think of gay students learning about their sexuality and being forced to hide it for fear of abuse; poor children whose parents are working two jobs to make ends meet and cant afford the “newest” and the “best” of anything; abused children trying to hide their bruises and scars; visible minorities who deal with racial fear and hatred.   THESE PEOPLE can certainly claim high school hardship.

What in the world do I have to complain about?  Not the best player on any of the teams I was a part of, I still played a great deal.  Traveled to all the tournaments, enjoyed the camaraderie during the bus trips, and honed skills that I have the pleasure of sharing with young men today as a coach.   

While it’s true I wasn’t invited to parties, I certainly wasn’t ostracized by anyone.  People would talk with me.  Ya, they made fun of me at times… but they did that when I was a being a knothead and fully deserved to be made fun of.  Nope I didn’t have any girlfriends, but I could talk with virtually any of them and they would talk with me too.  I walked to school on a regular basis with some of them and they treated me well.

Just like every kid in high school I desperately wanted to be popular…and then I nearly died.  

Coming so close to death on two occasions can change your perspective on things.  And I I’m being brutally honest with myself… I was my own worst enemy. 

I grew a healthy contempt for the people I tried so hard to be like and with that separated myself from almost everyone.  Outside of a very few people, I didn’t allow myself to be close with anyone.  “Who needs those idiots anyway?  They go out every weekend getting hammered so they blackout and can’t remember anything? Doing drugs…what a bunch of losers…all of them…they can all kiss my ass!” I would pout.

Pathetic.

Looking at the words I just wrote, I can only tell you how ashamed I feel at even thinking them, never mind perpetuating them all these years to any poor sap who was silly enough to mention high school within earshot of me.

It had never dawned on me that ALL of these people are simply trying to make it through these years the best way they can.  While some have more advantages than others…even those advantages bring their own set of problems.  (Why am I suddenly getting a flashback of The Breakfast Club in my head?) 

So I am going to enjoy the game tomorrow, although I am torn on who I am going to cheer for.  And I am really going to love getting together with some amazing people that I care for a great deal. And when the conversation invariably turns to the years we spent together... I will reminisce instead of commiserate.  

Ooops... I did it again (with apologies to Ms. Spears)

The more things change the more they stay the same.

Much like Wyle E Coyote who continues to be thwarted by the Roadrunner, or Homer Simpson who can barely make it through an hour without proclaiming, “d’OH!”; I have done it again.

Long time readers of my blog (all 7 editions) are aware that I am lacking in what I call an “edit” button between my brain and my mouth.  If I have something on my mind, I share it, right or wrong.  (Others may say that what I am really lacking is common sense… but I digress)

It happened again last night.  After a particularly difficult personal situation happened to me, I made a comment on my Facebook status, which lead to the whole event being described in public for the world to see.

In retrospect, these personal issues and pains that I share (I have done this in the past) are probably best held to myself.  I am sure that some looked at what I wrote and said… “There he goes again, looking for sympathy on a problem he should be dealing with himself”.  

They are probably right…except…

1)      I received a number of comments, both publicly and privately, from people that I hold very dear to me that offered condolence, advice, support and most importantly, perspective.   Reading their comments, taking the time to contemplate their words and appreciating the fact that they care enough to offer their support…gave me perspective and peace.  A situation where I COULD have found myself over-emotional and depressed was turned into a more positive experience that I have learned from.  

2)      I was not divulging anyone else’s secrets or situations.   Gossip is a terrible thing.  I’ve been the subject of it in the past and it sucks.  HARD.  So when I fail to use that edit button I make sure that the information moving on is my own.  When people tell me to put things in “The Vault”… that is where it stays. (And no, Seinfeld viewers, the key to said vault is NOT alcohol.)

3)       Sammy Davis Jr. probably sang it best… I gotta be me!  As someone who continually mulls over ever little detail in his life in my brain until the horse isn’t only dead… the flesh has been flogged off its bones and those bones pounded into a fine powder…it’s imperative that I speak out.  My very sanity depends on it.

Look, I know we all have problems and issues and there are some things that need to be kept quiet for obvious reasons.  Even someone as open as I am knows that.  With that said, I was reminded of something that I am more than proud to share and I don’t care who sees it.

I have some AMAZING friends.  Great people that are perfect examples of what we can all strive to be as humans.  Loving, caring and genuinely concerned for my well being.  There to pick me up when I am down, ready to rejoice with me in triumph.  I don’t see all of them nearly as often as I would like, but all of them have influenced my life and make me strive to be as great as they are.  If that is the only thing I learned from my big mouthedness on this occasion (and thanks to my friends it wasn’t), then that is good enough for me.

Now you may have read all of this and are asking yourself, “What the hell is this self-indulgent tripe?   Doesn’t this guy know when to keep his mouth shut?” 

Here are your answers…

These are the express written opinions, feelings, emotions, thoughts of a dude who’s simply trying to muddle through this existence doing as much good as he can in the world and trying to figure out how to do right by the people he cares for… and people in general…while throwing in a little humor here and there to make it interesting.  

As far as knowing when to keep my mouth shut… clearly I think you all know the answer to that by now.

Eureka!

I’ve figured it out.

I know what is wrong with the World today.  

The answer may surprise you… and then again, it may not.

Paris Hilton.

Once again proving that if you have enough money to purchase a small country you can get away with anything, Paris Hilton avoided a felony and was given 1 year probation for possession of cocaine and obstruction of justice in a Las Vegas courtroom.  

You can find the details of the story here. http://wonderwall.msn.com/tv/paris-hilton-pleads-guilty-in-las-vegas-arrest-1573044.story?GT1=28135

This is not her first run in with the law.  Recently she was arrested for possession of pot in South Africa during the World Cup.  She claimed then that the pot was someone else’s and the charges were magically dropped against her as some poor schlep plead guilty for her.

She tried it again this time around.  When the officer caught her with the cocaine in the purse, she said that the bag wasn’t hers, despite it having numerous credit cards, 1300 dollars and some rolling papers that belonged to her.  (Hey… it worked the first time, right? I wonder if that was part of the deal when people auditioned to be her BFF, back when she was running that reality show of hers.  I'm only speculating that was the premise of the show, I certainly couldn’t bring myself to waste my time watching that tripe.)

What is most incredulous in all of this is the fact that her lawyer and the prosecution claim that she is “taking responsibility” for her actions.

REALLY?  Putting the blame for breaking the law on her friends is taking responsibility? That alone is enough to make you question society’s moral compass as to what is right and wrong.  I didn’t realize the bar for personal responsibility was set so bloody low.  Equally as incredulous is a statement that she was not given any special treatment.

Famous for no other reason than the fact her family has more money than you or I could ever spend in 100 lifetimes, she flaunts her celebrity status in the face of the world.  

Sadly I know young ladies that actually look up to this woman and wish that they could be like her.  How sad our world has become when SHE is the type of individual that our children are looking up to.

The judge stated that her next run in with the law greater than a minor traffic violation will put her in jail for a year.  I’d like to believe that to be true, but sadly you and I know that will not be the case.  She will find a way to use her family’s money to “make the trouble go away”, and she will be off to the next movie debut or whatever the hell she does with her time.

As for blaming her for the ills of society, well… perhaps that is a little on the harsh side.  However, she has highlighted once again that not everyone is equal under our laws, or at the very least, that some people are just more equal than others.  Until EVERYONE is equal and treated the same way when laws are broken...the problems of the world will remain.

Some of you may call me a “hater” and say that I am just jealous.  All I know is there’s no way in hell a black man/Average Joe/homeless person her age, caught in the same situation would have been given the same latitude.

Go ahead… prove me wrong.  I dare you.

We'll be back after this message...

One week into the blog and I thought I would examine how this is all coming along.

So far so good I suppose.  I have managed to submit an entry every day this week and enjoyed doing so, meaning there is a good chance I will be able to keep this up.  Before I started I had a preconceived notion as to how it would play out.  I thought that I would be pointing out the humorous things that have happened in the world and would present my own “take” on them.  But this first week seems a little “preachy” for my liking. 

While the “Blogiverse” is supposed to be a place where you can share your opinions without concern, I want to hold myself to a little higher standard.  We get enough finger wagging and moral outrage from our media outlets, and frankly, we don’t need me joining the party. There is so much misery and pain in the world, is it necessary for me to add my anger and disappointment?

So with that said...I want to pause for a moment and share this with you.

I like you. (This is a big step for me because I used to hate “people”.)

I like you and all of the good that you have brought into the world. Whether you volunteer in your community, put your life on the line through your job, donate to charity, read a book to your child or just plain old go to your job every day and help keep this economy going.  What you are doing is important.

You probably don’t get the credit you deserve for doing all of this, so along with telling you that I like you... I want to thank you as well.  Your efforts are appreciated. 

Those of you who know me personally... thank you for helping make me the person that I am.  Thank you for the positive (and sometimes negative...hey I have to be honest) influences that you have brought into my world.  I want you to know that I am doing my very best to be a positive influence in your world and that if you need help and there is a means for me to do so, I will do all I can.

Which includes tormenting you into reading my blog at every opportunity...hey; this blog won’t read itself now, will it?

Pathetically Apathetic

Watching the news from Afghanistan as they are preparing for their elections, I couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of a vast majority of Canadians and Americans.

In Afghanistan, the Taliban have placed threatening letters on mosques stating that citizens had better stay away from the polling stations and not bother to vote under threat of violence, kidnapping, or even death.

Some understandably are choosing to stay away and not vote, while many others will literally risk life and limb  in the process.

Insert my shame here.

Voter turnouts for municipal, provincial and national elections in Canada are pathetically low and have been for as long as I can remember.  I remember a media report from one particular election that almost celebrated a turnout that had reached 40 percent.  40 FREAKING PERCENT!  THAT is something to be PROUD of?

The excuses for not voting by the apathetic majority are equally lame.

                                                                *********

“I’m working on election day.”

Not only are there usually 2 advance polls set up for these individuals who are working on Election Day, employers BY LAW are required to give you time off in order to cast a ballot.  I am aware of businesses that even transport their employees to their voting stations to take part.

“I don’t know anything about the candidates.”

For a whole month, candidates are busy trying to let the public know about who they are and what they stand for in an effort to gain office.  There are public debates, news stories, door to door canvassing.  Basically, if you don’t know anything about the candidates, then you have purposely been ignoring them, which is ridiculous since these people are going to be making decisions on how tax dollars are spent and forming public policy.  Don’t you think it is in your best interest to, you know, FIND OUT WHO IS GOING TO BE RUNNING THE FREAKING SHOW?

“It doesn’t matter who I vote for because...”

There are a few different excuses given that start out this way so I will break them down.

“...all politicians are crooks.”

Now I have already admitted to a healthy distaste for politicians in the past and for good reason.  How many times does a person have to be promised something during a campaign, only to watch their elected representative either change their position or simply fail to follow up on it?  It happens far more times than I care to count.  It is NOT an excuse to avoid partaking in the process. 

“...the election is already decided by the time my votes are counted.”

This is a distinctly Western Canadian standpoint that I have heard.  The way our political system is designed, the majority of the seats in the House of Commons are filled with representatives from Ontario and Quebec.  They have the greater population of course and therefore need more representatives.  Very often in the past, the eastern provinces have voted one way and the Western provinces voted another (which incidentally ALWAYS leads to talk of Western Canadian separation.)  While it can be very frustrating for Western Canadians to deal with this fact, one should never take for granted that every seat...every vote could be the difference.  There are plenty of examples in history where seats have been won by the smallest of margins.

“...I don’t like any of the candidates/...none of the candidates represent my views.”

While I look at this as a bit of a copout, since there are usually so many candidates of varying opinions and beliefs that virtually everyone’s point of view has a representative, I have to accept that this indeed may be the case.  I STILL have an answer for you. 

Purposely ruin your ballot.

By ruining your ballot you let the government know none of these people have it right and none of them are deserving of my support.  It is a form of protest that is tangible and at the very least means that you have done your duty in the democratic process.

                                                                ********

I missed voting just once in my life.  It was my very first chance to vote.  I had just turned 18 and asked my mom to bring me down to the polling station so I could cast a ballot.  I was so excited for the opportunity.  I was an adult now and my voice and opinion actually MEANT something.  I studied the candidates’ platforms diligently and figured out who best represented the way I thought at the time. 

My mom said no.

An argument ensued.  I didn’t understand it.  This was a chance to have your say and my mom was completely disinterested giving me a couple of the excuses I had listed above as the reasoning for not taking me.  I fought very hard, but it wasn’t happening.

I was so disappointed, I actually cried (yes even then I was overly sensitive).  I swore on that day that I would NEVER miss out on another election.  Hundreds of thousands of men and women risked their lives and DIED to give me the chance to exercise this right.  I was not about dishonour them with my apathy.

After all... it’s not like you could get killed or kidnapped for simply casting a ballot... RIGHT?

"Sermon From the Ivory Tower" OR "Kids these days..."

So I sat in a meeting with a ton of community minded people who are looking into ways to help young people and promote healthier living.

Some of the stories that came from the discussions were shocking to me.  Children as young as in Grade 8 are drinking IN SCHOOL.  Some of them are using their water bottles and filling it with booze and bringing it to class.

Drugs and gambling are also issues that educators are facing within the confines of their schools and the question was, “How do we combat this?  What can we do to prevent this type of behavior?”

For years, the message has been preached to the children through programs like D.A.R.E in Grade 6, The PARTY program for Grade 9 students and SADD members in High School.  Clearly, the effort to reach the students is there…and still the problems occur.  

Then, someone around the table had the brilliant observation that perhaps it is the parents we need to be targeting with our message.

As a parent myself, I know that I don’t always make the right decisions, but I have a sense of what is right and wrong that, apparently, is not within the grasp of others.

For instance, there is the example of parents who served alcohol (coolers) to the 14 year old guests of their daughter’s birthday party.   The defense of this ridiculous decision was that “I would rather my children drink in front of me where I can control it, as opposed to out at a bush party where I don’t know what is going on.”  Even more incredulous to me was the statement that followed, defending these people as “good parents”.

Really?  Good parents?  Let’s look at that for a moment.  

If their children were to walk into a bar, and were served a drink, the bar would lose their liquor license and be charged for serving alcohol to minors.  Why?  BECAUSE IT IS AGAINST THE LAW!  Does being a “GOOD PARENT” equate in any way with breaking the law?  Why stop at just alcohol?  Why not break out a few joints for the kids, or a bag of cocaine that they can split into lines for everyone… hey… they are going to do it anyway, right?  At least you can be watching them while they do it!  What about the parents of the other children at the party?  Were they contacted and told about how these MODEL PARENTS were acting as bartenders for their children?  

What does this teach the children?  Some laws are ok to break so long as you do it at home?  

Frankly, the argument that keeping it at home is a way to monitor what is going on is garbage.  I believe there is a far more pathetic reason for allowing this and it was verified by others around the table during the meeting.

The parents need to be “cool” or their child’s “best friend”.

You hear it more and more these days.  Kids that are out of control and are doing their own thing with little to no discipline from the parents because they are afraid their kids won’t like them anymore if they are punished.

I have news for these particular parents… IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO BE YOUR CHILD’S FRIEND.  They have their FRIENDS to do that for them.  Your job is to educate your child, help them grow up, teach them about the consequences of their actions and decisions, urge them to follow their dreams and help them become a responsible adult who can make a positive contribution to society.

Look, I am by no means the perfect parent.  And I realize how terribly judgmental I am sounding in making these statements, as I have not walked in anyone else’s shoes but my own.  I lived a very boring childhood, with few friends.  I was not deemed cool or invited to parties.  I have never once taken an illegal drug in my life, and I didn’t have my first drink until I was 22.  To say that I lived a sheltered life is kind of an understatement.  I spent my weekends at my Grandma’s house… so in short… I was a parent’s wet dream.

What I do know is this.  From very early on, I taught my daughter life is about choices and she has the power to make the good and bad ones all on her own.  With that power she also was taught the choices she made had consequences, both good and bad.  When she would act up and was punished, she tried to manipulate the situation and claim ‘it’s not fair’; ‘You’re being mean”, and all the others kids roll out when they feel they are being wrongly persecuted.  And every single time I would remind her that SHE made the choice.  SHE had the power within her to decide how this situation would end up.  Had she decided to make the “right” decision… she would in all likelihood receive the result she wanted.

Soon I found that I really didn’t have to punish my child that often, since she was making the right decisions most of the time.   Furthermore, she feels like she has the power to achieve anything she sets her mind to.  She doesn’t feel like the victim of circumstance because she knows she had power throughout the entire process, regardless of the event.  Win/Win all around.  I still screw up... there's no manual to follow for parenting and we are all learning at the same time and pace as our children.  But this is what has worked for me so far... of course, I still have my daughter's teenage years ahead of me...so who knows what to expect.

All the same, I can’t help but wonder if parents stopped worrying about being their kids’ friend and started being their parent, if we would be seeing as many of these situations develop?

As for the solution to the issue at hand... the group is discussing a wide ranging marketing effort aimed at the parents.   Changing what is deemed as "acceptable behaviour" or the "societal norm" is not going to be easy.  There are plenty of aspects to discuss and not everything is flushed out just yet, but it has to start somewhere.  While it's important to educate the students...it may be even moreso to inform the parents.

In the meantime, I am left to try and pinpoint the exact moment that I started sounding like my parents. (At least I haven't started yelling at the neighborhood kids to stay of my lawn... YET.

The Sportsmanship Dilemma

The sports world is in a tizzy today, as only it can be, thanks to the antics of one Derek Jeter of the New York Yankees.

Last night, during a game against their division rivals, the Tampa Bay Rays, Jeter feigned being hit by a pitch that had run up inside on his hands.  He had managed to turn away just in time from the pitch but the ball struck the nub of the bat.  As he turned away and let his arm go limp, the umpire, who apparently had not gotten a good look at the play, awarded Jeter first base.

Jeter milked the incident for a while to ensure that he wasn’t making the umpire look like a chump right away, but admitted after the contest that the ball was nowhere near his arm or hand and that he had clearly gotten away with one.

Upon hearing of the incident, I immediately thought of a good friend of mine who loves baseball and has an encyclopaedic mind for stats and figures at it relates to “America’s Pastime”.  I thought of him for a couple of reasons. 

1)      His hatred of Derek Jeter.  Hatred may be a strong word, however I can absolutely state that he believes Jeter to be the single most over-rated player in the game today.  And he has the stats to back up his argument.

2)      His love of Wrestling. 

Now the second factor that brings him to mind is a little more abstract, but I will try to bring it all together.

 First of all, Wrestling is all about “selling”.  95 per cent of everything a wrestler does in the ring LOOKS like it would cause irreparable damage to a human body, even though the LAST thing a wrestler wants to do to his opponent, is hurt him/her.   So they complete these moves, and the person on the receiving end’s job is to make these intricate manoeuvres look painful.  The better the sell, the more the audience enjoys the display. (Some things don’t take much acting to sell as painful.  People that call wrestling “fake” clearly don’t know what it is like to be hit in the head with a steel chair.  But I digress)

My friend also loved to remind me of what could be one of my favourite quotes made by a “heel” (bad guy) wrestler back in the 80’s.  Former Minnesota Governor Jesse Ventura, wrestled in the WWF back in the day as Jesse “The Body” Ventura.  He was a very flamboyant character who did a marvellous job of getting the crowd to hate him.  One of his favourite slogans during his time in front of the camera was “WIN IF YOU CAN, LOSE IF YOU MUST, BUT ALWAYS CHEAT!”

How apropos that this quote from a “villain” in the wrestling world would relate directly to a man that my friend hates.

But the question is... Did Jeter “cheat”?

What happened last night during the ballgame is not like a wrestler who might use a foreign object to knock out an opponent for the victory.  It was more like the equivalent of giving an opponent a thumb in the eye when the ref isn’t looking.   It didn’t win the ball game, but it certainly wasn’t very sportsmanlike either.

We see this all the time in sports, whether it is a wide receiver falling at the end of a route to try and draw a pass interference call on the defensive back, or it’s a striker falling just as he is challenged by a defender as he tries to score in the 18 yard box in football (I call it football... DEAL WITH IT).  Players are always looking for a little advantage to win the game.  The public and sports media have come to accept this behaviour.  In fact, for most it is almost EXCPECTED. The manager of the Tampa Bay Rays said he would have applauded his own players to attempt such shenanigans and had absolutely no trouble with Jeter’s display.  I’ve heard one quote which said “If you ain’t cheatin’, you ain’t tryin’” (Leave it to sports media/athletes to murder the English language like this)

I,however, am disappointed.

I don’t like the trend of sportsmanship, being replaced by gamesmanship.  The “anything to win” attitude we see nowadays bothers me.  Isn’t this act of “cheating” an admission that you as a player just aren’t good enough to get the job done on your talent alone?  Sure Jeter got to take first base on the HBP (Hit by Pitch), but wouldn’t it have been better for the Yankees had he just taken the foul ball, stood in for the next pitch, and “gone yard” for the home run?  Isn’t that a greater display of your prowess as a ball player, then meekly walking to first base on a play that the WHOLE WORLD knows you didn’t deserve thanks to instant replay?

I just think that it is a sad statement of character when players trade in their integrity, for even the slightest of advantages in an effort to win.

I guess that is why I was always a bigger fan of the “babyface” (good guy) in wrestling.

"Caught a bolt of lightning...."

Music has always spoken to me.  Not just in the American Bandstand, “It’s got a great beat and I can dance to it.  I’ll give it an 86, Dick.” vein, either.   

Nope.  More often than not, I get chills from music that I find especially powerful.  No band’s music has related to me more than that of my favorite band, Pearl Jam.

Many will argue and throw plenty of alternate names into the mix, but to me there is no greater song writer than Eddie Vedder.  The raw emotion drips from virtually every word. Whether he sings about a boy who does something drastic so he will not be ignored again(Jeremy), the horrors of war and how it affects the people left at home(World Wide Suicide), or desperation one feels as they plead with a loved one to continue fighting for their lives(Just Breathe), his lyrics have always rung true.

I shared that with you, so I could share this…

The title of this entry is a portion of a lyric from the song, Nothingman.

“Caught a bolt of lightning… cursed the day he let it go.”

That single line perfectly describes how I feel about my life on many days since I changed jobs three years ago.

For over 10 years, I was involved in the on-air aspects of radio broadcasting.  8 of them as a news/sports anchor, the rest as a morning show host.  Since I never made it to a big market station some would suggest that means I wasn’t very damn good at my job, but from the response I receive from others in my community (even to this day), perhaps I was better than I thought.  Regardless of the talent (or lack thereof), this was the dream gig for me.  

Hell, it’s the only job I am actually qualified for.  

You see, this is how it is.  Some women fall in love with carpenters, and they’re men can build them a dream home.  Other women fall for mechanics, which can repair their cars whenever they need.  Still others hook up with teachers, who can educate their children and prepare them to face the world.

My girlfriend fell for a jackass that can tell her who sang the last song she heard on the radio and can pronounce the name of the winner of the Women’s US Open Tennis title. (And she certainly doesn’t need me to do that for her, seeing as she’s been bringing people important news stories from around the world for many years.)

So… why did I leave it if I loved doing it so much?  Well, for those of you who are unaware, being a radio personality is far from a lucrative gig. (Unless of course you are in a major market…this has its own downside of being at the mercy of “The Ratings”) There came a point where I had to take on the extra job of being a sales person at the station in addition to the Morning Show host.  And soon afterward, the need came for me to move to a full time position in sales (at the risk of losing my client list had I chose not to continue).  

Success for me has been fleeting at times.  I often find myself frustrated, and am met with frustration from others that I am not more profitable.  I put forth my best effort, try to meet with as many people as I can, but something is missing. 

The passion and feeling of accomplishment I get in the day to day.  The feeling I am doing something worthwhile each and every day for the people around me.

Certainly I take great pride in the success of my clients who are seeing their business grow with proper marketing strategies.  It’s great to hear about the success they have, which not only helps feed their families, but helps keep people employed in the community.  There is honor in helping to create those achievements. 

With that said… the thrill of that morning ride from 6 till noon and sharing silly stories or important information that people need to start their days is missing.

I have spent a lot of time evaluating my life and the choices I am making in the past 3 years.  Is there change in my future?  Most certainly, there is.  It is, and MUST BE that way for everyone.  (I fully realize the dangers of admitting all of this in a forum such as this; it’s a chance that I am, apparently, willing to take.)

In the meantime, I would use this little story as a cautionary tale that you can use in your life.  When you catch that bolt of lighting…hold onto it for dear life and enjoy the ride.  Through the thick and thin, hold on till you find the next one to latch on to. 

Lest you curse the day you let it go.

Does this guy ever stop?

Today’s blog entry came to me in a dream.

In between fighting super-villains alongside the likes of Thor, Captain America and Iron Man (Yes, even in my dreams I am a geek… a geek with super powers, but a geek nonetheless) and being a Pro Wrestler (I love wrestling and am not ashamed to admit it), I saw a woman in amongst all the confusion and commotion, oblivious to the chaos that surrounded her, looking at me. 

Not just looking at me either.  Examining me is more like it.  With debris and bodies flying all around her, those eyes peered into my soul.  Suddenly, everything in the dream slowed to a halt.  (Very INCEPTION like… it should come to absolutely no one’s surprise that I just saw that movie three days ago) She smiled and didn’t take her eyes off of me while she said in a soft, almost purring voice.

“You would tell anyone, EVERYTHING wouldn’t you?”

I turned away for a moment to ponder those words that were ringing in my ears, and when I looked back to respond, she had disappeared.

 The dreamscape resumed. While I did manage to defeat Thanos, with some assistance from my Marvel friends and I did happen to retain the Tag Titles with my partner (because I am all about tying up loose ends and I KNOW you are all wanting closure on that aspect of this story), those words continue to linger.  

So here I am at 6:18 am, writing another blog entry because…well… because she is absolutely right.

It’s always been a bit of a conundrum for me.  By sharing even the most ridiculous details of my life with whoever enquired, I felt that I was giving the impression that I have nothing to hide, because… well because I don’t hide ANYTHING.  Those Facebook surveys that ask you 25 questions about yourself or were IMPOSSIBLE for me to ignore and HAD to be completed to avoid a collapse in the Universe as we knew it. (Or so it must have seemed to others, I did so many) 

I have tried to convince myself that people appreciate this part of me because there are no secrets, no questions about my motives.  (Whatever lets me get to sleep at night, right?)

Of course, there are other times when folks wish I would have an “edit” button in my brain.  A “still small voice” that would say, “You know what, Raymond?   Perhaps… just perhaps… you should keep this to yourself.  It might be safer for all involved.”

Truth be told, had I kept my mouth shut, on NUMEROUS occasions in the past I probably would have been able to avoid heartache, hardship, embarrassment and regret more times than I care to count.  Then again, would I be the man I am now if I did “zip it”?  Would I be better?

So now… whether you are interested or not, I’m going to share one of those little surveys in an effort to let you know a little more about me.  Let’s face it… what the hell is a blog for without a little shameless self-promotion?

25 THINGS ABOUT ME

1.My daughter, Taylor is the best thing my name has ever been attached to.

2. I was an atheist turned Mormon...but my disgust over the behaviour of the church during Proposition 8 in California was the final straw for me.  Now it's my firm belief that religion does far more harm than good.

3. I have suffered humiliation that no person should ever have to...at the hands of people I called friends.

4. I've wanted to be a father since I was 21

5. I LOVE acting and at times wished I pursued it

6. I have a half written screenplay that I would love to submit for a movie someday

7. I think we learn far more from failure than success.

8. I am friends with all kinds of people.  A wider array of folks you could never find.

9. I am far too extreme for my own good.  I know not where this "middle ground" everyone talks about, is.

10. I'd love to skydive or bungee jump in my life

11. I MUST travel more in my life and hope that my daughter will catch the "travel bug" to experience the world herself.

12. I fear that I will die without making a difference in the world.

13. I wish I could play an instrument of some sort.  If ROCKBAND has taught me anything it is that I was BORN to be in a band

14. I LOVE wrestling and am not afraid to admit it.

15. I have a healthy disgust for politicians.  The more I learn, the more I despise them.

16. I wanted to be a professional basketball player in high school

17. I don't floss nearly as much as I should.

18. I LOVE big dogs.   The bigger the better.

19. Fear makes far too many decisions in my life.

20. The greatest trip I have ever been on was an African Safari, which has ruined me for Zoos.

21. I still beleive in the institution of marriage, despite my failing, and hope to be married again some day.

22. I still watch cartoons... mostly with superheroes

23. I love to cook, but worry that I am gonna screw up the meal and that my guests won't like it.

24. I hope to save a life before I die.

25. I have 4 tattoos and would like to get a couple more before I am done.

If you are looking at this list and say “This is all fluff.  We don’t find out about the REAL Raymond with any of this”, have no fear.   I am sure that you will find out FAR more about me in the weeks and months to come.  

After all… I would tell anyone, everything.

Do you “share too much”?  Do your friends wish you had a mute button in that brain of yours?  Drop me a line and let me know… better yet; take some time to fill out the survey and share it.  Or if you would prefer, keep things to yourself. 

It Hardly Pays To Dream

So I've always been asked why I don't get into a business of some sort. Some people think I would be good at it and while it always intrigued me somewhat to think that I could be my own boss, something about being an entrepreneur spooked me... but I could never put a finger on it.

Today I know what that fear is.

I called a potential client today who was VERY interested in radio marketing for a new store she was opening in our tiny little town. It was to be a consignment store featuring women's clothing and trendy top name brand clothes for teens. (You'll notice that I am using the past tense in that sentence... while it may be a bit premature to do so, I think it is appropriate, but more on that later)

In my first meeting with her you could see the excitement and passion in her eyes, for the adventure she was about to embark on. She had done the market research, contacted dealers on the West coast and in the United States, formulated a strong business plan and made the obligatory huge investments of their savings to see this to fruition. Clearly she knew what she wanted and knew the path to take on how to get there.

She took a look at the marketing plan I devised for her and saw that it was sound and would get her the response she needed. She took the information home for the weekend to ponder it, but said to call on Monday morning and we could "get the ball rolling"

From the moment I spoke to her on the follow up call I knew something was a little off.

"Someone broke into the store, Raymond... they wiped out TONS of my teen clothes. I don't even know if I am going to open the store anymore."

I was shocked. This store had not even OPENED yet. They were still doing renovations to prepare this location, for crying out loud. Unfortunately, because of that fact, there were no security measures in place other than locking the doors up. "Who needs security when you are doing renovations?" she said. "It was on our list of things to do, but I wanted to get the Teen room designed and finished first."

While the investigation is underway I am not going to say anymore because it IS my hope that the people responsible are caught, but even if they are... the damage has been done.

I've had the chance to speak with a number of store owners in my community who have been targeted by thieves in the past... and while some may get the product back, and insurance may cover losses otherwise... something greater than money or clothing or jewelry has been stolen in each and every case.

That entrepreneurial spirit. The desire to be your own boss. The dream of doing something rewarding for yourself and your family that will also make the community you live in a better place to be. It isn't a total loss though. Each thief leaves behind anger, mistrust, skepticism, increased insurance costs, and sadness to replace those dreams.

Some store owners will is strong and they fight on... with increased security, triple bolted doors and bars on the windows, but they continue on none the less.

I don't have that in me. Sure I have a fighting spirit and have survived plenty of tough times. However, I haven't had a dream stolen along with a portion of my life savings, to boot. I just don't think I could bear to have that tone in my voice.

Sucker punched before the damn bell even rings.

(Let me wish this owner good luck and share my hope that she will continue on despite the losses. They stole your product... don't let them steal the passion too. As for the thieves... a special wish. That at some point, when you are trying to achieve a dream you have held...when you are trying to get ahead in this world...that someone is kind enough to teach you this very lesson you have so callously shared with this woman. Perhaps then you will "get it".)