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Baffle box…

December 6, 2009

Dear God, I love hockey…

It relates to EVERYTHING…

Yesterday morning the Canucks played a second period kind of like this…

I think…

But I’m no Shorthouse…

I barely know what’s going on…

Today after I put up my Christmas lights I’m going to start working on a map…

for how to get a puck into a net when you’re making $62.50 a second…

against a hockey team that is situated on land that can’t even make ice…

This morning, at the crack of dawn, I was in close proximity to the Garage…

watching nine and ten year old girls run around on solid astro-turf…

Love, is a burning thing...

These girls are hard core…

Today was sunny but the last few weekends they’ve played in a cold hurricane…

and although they didn’t win every game they played with a lot of emotion…

I could feel it…

After the game I wandered down Keefer for a little field trip to T&T Supermarket…

On the way to the seaweed aisle I threw a frozen mullet into my basket…

just for fun…

FYI: a frozen mullet is not the cryonized scalp of a hockey player who has donated his brain for concussion research…

it is a fresh water fish…

from Taiwan…

My blood is red with you...

But you should find out for yourself…

And I’m thinking about running a contest…

for the top mullet playlist…

I already have a prize in mind…

So get your entry ready…

First stop, frozen mullet…

Second stop, crabs…

An older man was weighing up his crab in the fresh fish department…

I asked him how he intended to prepare the individual…

He said, I steam it…

I said,

WHAT!@#%&%$&U(()*^^$#@&*(&*^????!!!!!

That is such a slow death…

He wasn’t sure what to say, kind of like you’re on Candid Camera, but he decided to go along with it,

You’re right, 10-15 minutes…

but this technique keeps the crab juicy…

I asked,

Don’t you hear the crabs screaming in your house???!!!!

He said,

You should get that lady to kill the crab for you…

if you think you can’t do it yourself…

I thought but didn’t say,

Listen pal, I know how to execute a crab…

I just get it done quick…

like there’s no tomorrow…

I know how to choose a crab, but I let him do it for me since he offered…

chivalry is not dead…

I noticed he felt a thigh…

just like the frat boys back at Expo ’86…

It feels so right... so warm and true...

At the checkout, the young guy behind me placed at least eight dozen eggs on the conveyor belt…

I asked him,

Where are you planning to throw your eggs???

He laughed and said,

Those days are over…

these are for breakfast…

One the way home I saw the pair of eagles sitting up on the church spire…

chatting about the weather,

and feeling good medicine…

Our dreams.. and they are made out of real things...

Then they flew off, together…

north-east towards the mountains…

On the last day of ski season…

in May…

I went up to Whistler with my dad for some fun in the sun…

I hadn’t been on the boards for more than four years…

and my iron levels were rock bottom…

But I made mincemeat out of him…

all the way from the top of the Peak Chair down to Mid-station…

with no leg-burn…

He was astounded…

He has a season’s pass and goes for a core strength workout almost everyday…

and he could hardly keep up…

He said,

It must be the flamenco…

I said,

Maybe…

There are two cylinders…

one inside the other…

and you have to work out both of them…

Outer core strength is nothing if your insides are weak…

I wonder,

with all the attention and experts working on their performance,

why the Canucks can’t seem to make a steady morning win…

Building a mystery...

Morning meeting…

December 5, 2009

Yesterday I went to visit the old school,

where I worked for thirteen years…

When I am in a school with children,

I feel like I am with my people…

There is no question about that…

Resigning from my school district,

and leaving my school,

was one of the hardest decisions,

I’ve ever made in my life…

Leaping into an abyss with no parachute…

Teachers are not known for embracing big change,

especially when they’ve signed onto a pension…

But I was given a mandate,

by five and six year olds,

that I needed to write a book,

or make a movie,

about what children know,

and adults forget…

And they told me that I should catch up on my sleep,

and wait in the wings,

until the momentum picked up,

so that I could just go,

with the flow…

It was also clear,

that I was supposed to work,

in a different district…

One that was more ready,

for a radical philosophy,

of education…

I’m still waiting to see ,

where that,

is going to be…

Because I’m getting signs that point,

in more,

than one direction…

Some east and some north,

all towards the mountains…

Yesterday I saw a lot of former students…

Some of them I have known,

since they were newborns,

because I had worked with their older siblings…

My first students are now in their early twenties…

but when we run into each other,

space and time collapses,

into nothing…

Yesterday afternoon,

I stood outside by the swings,

in the back of the school,

and waited for Hannah,

as she crossed the field,

from the private school,

that she now attends,

on her way home…

Hannah came to our school,

from the kingdom,

of Swaziland…

I first met her when she was four years old,

and her two older sisters,

were new to our school…

It was Sports Day,

and I gave her a hula hoop,

for fun…

She picked that big circle up,

and it was instant whirling…

We ran around the field together,

as I set things up,

for the preschooler race…

And that September,

she came into my class for Kindergarten,

and then stayed the next year,

for grade one…

I used to take my class wandering…

And one day she said to me,

as we were walking through subdivisions,

looking for magic,

Your hand is so warm…

When I touch you,

my heart opens up,

like a flower…

I looked at her in amazement and told her,

What you say is poetry…

I had never heard such beautiful words before,

and I wondered what that felt like,

to have your heart open up like a flower..

And then a few weeks after that a friend called,

from out of the blue…

Some one who I had really been missing,

and hadn’t spoken with in six months…

He was telling me about his children…

And then I felt it…

I felt my heart open up like a flower,

and I knew…

One day,

when I was caught in a trap of mental indecision,

my older daughter said to me,

Mama, it’s going to be okay for you to leave your school…

You can go somewhere else… 

And just so you know,

when you go to that new place,

there is going to be a girl there…

And you are going to have the same kind of connection,

with her,

that you have with Hannah…

I told Hannah about that yesterday,

and how it gave me the faith to leap…

I asked her if she ever thinks about her first best friend Kanishka,

who moved to Bangalore,

in the middle of grade one…

She said,

I think about her all the time…

I said,

You’re going to see her again…

One day she’ll just be there…

Hannah’s mom was standing with us and she said,

That’s what I think too…

When the time is right…

Hannah and I hugged each other,

just like old times…

And we said goodbye until next time…

When Hannah was in grade one,

she would come and sit beside me,

after she hung up her school bag…

Sometimes we wouldn’t say anything for a while…

We would just sit silently and listen to our thoughts…

And then the poetry would start…

And we would have conversations

just like this one…

You see,

                                                when I touch you,

                                                it feels like the sun.

                                                And when I’m held in its rays,

                                                I feel the hugs you give.

                                                When I see you,

                                                The light shines from your eyes.

                                                 When I hear your words

                                                 it sounds like light

                                                 and dark mixing together,

                                                making happiness.

                                               When the sun goes down,

                                                and the moon and stars come out,

                                                and I am missing you,

                                                I know that you are still with me.

                                                With the same light,

                                                in a different way.

Making pictures that speak louder than words…


Squeaky clean…

December 5, 2009

Poor Tiger…

I don’t know if I should spank him or burp him…

He got caught…

for the first time…

And somehow this is big front page news…

Shame on the Vancouver Sun…

I’m canceling the subscription I never had and I encourage you to do the same…

it seems the best they can do these days is to quote from the tabloids…

Do their writers learn this in journalism school…

or on the job???

Is American celebrity trivia acceptable material for our Canadian newspapers???

Is this what we want???

The next time you’re at the Great Canadian Superstore, or Shopper’s Drug Mart,

buying your Florida tomatoes…

pay attention to how you feel as you stand there browsing, and believing, the junk mag headlines…

Find out why Brad is worried that Angelina is going to have an affair… with a woman…

Ask yourself if this is good medicine…

as it settles into your brain cells…

The strangest thing happened while I was doing some light research on sports, in bed this morning…

as soon as I opened this link (I’ll let you experience this for yourself…

cut and paste the URL below onto your thingy… and then wait a minute after you open the page)

http://www.vancouversun.com/sports/Tiger+Woods+says+family+down/2294046/story.html

I heard a voice…

right in my own bedroom…

and I couldn’t find the right button to get the voice to be quiet…

I said, Tiger, get out of my house, you’re in enough trouble already…

you weren’t invited in…

but before you go, if I may suggest… t

ake some time away from EVERYONE, except your children…

and sort yourself out…

And then I heard my own voice asking myself a question, out loud,

Is this okay???

Is having Tiger’s voice projected into your house when you read the newspaper online the kind of freedom of speech we fight for…

I felt like a voyeur on someone else’s life…

and it didn’t feel good…

It’s enough of a challenge keeping an eye on my own life…

I’m choosing to appreciate Tiger for exposing the energy of betrayal…

Instead of skewering him with judgement,

I’m sitting here reflecting on the times I’ve cheated on,

and betrayed myself…

This starts early on…

And every time we turn on the television…

or read a gossip column…

or buy into the constructions of corporate culture…

we dig ourselves deeper…

I pay attention to the kind of soil I set my roots into…

and I pay attention to the company I keep…

When you grow…

if the soil you are in doesn’t feel right anymore…

it is time to take stock of things and move along…

Infidelity is as old a prostitution…

and slavery…

no one should be shocked by Tiger’s transgression(s)…

It’s all about perception…

I could entertain you for hours with tales of how I’ve been solicited for interference into conjugal relations by men, women, couples and a minister (only a few hours after he performed a wedding ceremony)…

This is why I tend to stay at home…

My house is a place where I can count on my own company to be in alignment…

Most of this solicitation has happened while I was visiting with friends…

Friends that are no longer on my friend list…

What does healthy friendship look like and feel like???

How do you go from your oldest friend’s husband saying to you, in front of your children, while he’s stone sober,

My wife is in the tent with a migraine, but she said it’s fine for us to go off and do it, farm style…

to spending an afternoon at the beach with your families???

Or the same guy sticking his index finger in between your breasts while he’s refilling your glass at Christmas dinner…

Life is a cabaret…

or a scene from Boogie Nights…

depending on your point of view…

We each have to make our own rules for ourselves…

rules that we can live with…

We also have to make our own beds with a balance of morality and sexuality…

A balance we can sleep with…

and wake up in the morning,

feeling good medicine…

I want to be rain that tastes like wine...