In-between

We departed early on a June day and did a marathon drive in-between Inverness and Glasgow. Scots might be appalled at the expanse of this one-day road-trip, but for many Canadians...? Pfft, a five hour drive is basically a Wednesday. 

We drove along The Great Glen (stunning) and stopped at Urquhart Castle AND HELLO HISTORY NERDS: TREBUCHET ALERT. This brutal medieval war-toy is an engineering feat, and history tells us they were used in shockingly inappropriate ways. What would you flllliiiiiinnnngggg to defeat an enemy? 

Next was a quick stop in Fort William, a warm and friendly town that my spouse and I spent a day exploring on our first trip to Scotland. But this time...WE ACTUALLY SAW BEN NEVIS! During our last visit, locals suggested not to fret about the (interminable) rain and fog as even some Scots, despite multiple visits to this town, have never seen the UK's tallest mountain! I'd call us lucky ducks, but I believe the Scots say, "absolutely jammy." FYI, I will be stealing this phrase as spreading jam on what you're already enjoying is the perfect way to describe unanticipated luck. 

After a sunny picnic along the lovely Loch Linnhe, we continued driving aka repeatedly accelerating and decelerating (see: roundabouts, sigh). Side note: as locals might say, "I didnae ken" how effectively the Scots use roundabouts to slow drivers down. It's brilliant, but as Canadians might say, also #$@!% annoying. But soon we just didn't care anymore....

BECAUSE VIEWS. Glencoe... Loch Ba... Loch Tulla... Loch Lomand... Whoa... definitely not just a Wednesday! It's like YOU get a car spectacular view and YOU get a car spectacular view and YOU get a car spectacular view. Thank you Oprah Scotland! 

And finally, Glasgow, a city my spouse and I spent several days in during our first trip to Scotland (the Necropolis, the People's Palace, Buchanan Street, those incredible street murals...) but this trip? We had one evening before we took a bus and ferry to Belfast. What to do? Meet a fellow blogger, of course! It was an absolute vacation highlight! But why didn't we take a photo together?!

Dear Christina, thank you again for your warmth and hospitality and our fun conversation. During our talk you mentioned one of your favourite Scottish words, "outwith," the opposite of within. As we discussed, to my knowledge this is not standard usage in Canada, but I suppose our closest equivalent would be outside of or beyond? Well, Christina, although we live outwith Scotland, it lives in our hearts and now, so do you. I wish we lived closer but remember, if you ever travel to western Canada.... 

In-between

Dear friends, don't judge Inverness by what Macbeth did there. I found no weird sisters nor "damned spots." 

The truth is that this small city is pleasingly walkable with pretty views along both sides of the swift-flowing River Ness, er wait...? What's forming those ripples in the water? 😉

Inverness folks were talkative, kind, and considerate and perhaps similar to those in Edinburgh, a tad pissed off by the world. How so? Somewhere in-between the Griege Street suspension bridge (iyam a bit-too-bouncy of a pedestrian bridge, built in 1880) and the bustling Victorian Market, we encountered more Scottish graffiti. Local reviews were reportedly as follows: 1/10 for artistry 😂 and 9/10 for message.✊

Say, just how much does it cost to fund a war? Sigh.🤦

Small

Before I explain how we achieved my wife's small dream of petting a highland "coo," a caution: periodically we Canadians hear about tourists who visit us and attempt to take selfies with an elk or a moose or a bison or a grizzly bear. (I kid you not.) Terrible ideas. 

So, I would like to assure readers that we were not those (eejit) tourists; we did not wander into a farmer's field or traipse across protected parkland. Instead, we just stopped to pee at a service station.... 

Although it's unlikely you've visited this particular gas station (near Perth, Scotland), if you do road trips at all ANYWHERE in the world, I suspect you've visited a similar gas station, one that sells EVERYTHING. 

All-day breakfast? Of course. Whisky? Definitely. Underwear? Got it. Scented Candles? Yes. Vegan brownies? Yup. Feather boas? "We might be sold out." AND Highland cows fenced out back? AYE!

To use some Scottish slang (hopefully correctly), gas-station happenstance is good craic. 

In-between

On to Scotland. Six of my eight great-grandparents emigrated from this Land o' Cakes. I adore this country. 💓

From London we took the train north to Edinburgh and explored our neighbourhood. If you've visited, you know about the closes that enable pedestrians to move in-between locations along the Royal Mile in Old Town. One particular close featured (in my opinion) some very Scots graffiti, ha. 

This was my second visit to Scotland, so it would be stupid to claim I'm qualified to be an astute observer of Scottish folks. But my memories of my maternal great-grandparents and my travel experience suggests to me that Scots are typically witty, genuine, and straightforward, hence the succinct message here, lol, one I read with an exasperated tone. 

It's a sound message for the world, isn't it? Later, during a whisky tasting, a comedian phrased it another way for us tourists: "don't be a bawbag." 😄 Good advice. (Maybe don't google that, ha.)

Impact

source

Guilty. 

Like many others this June, I attended a university convocation but, for the first time, as faculty.

What a pleasure. Joyful, even. Also cringe—most public ceremonies are inherently (no cynicism intended) performative. And also this: humbling. Nothing makes a guy feel more dense than being surrounded by incredibly smart people. But (like me) if your safe space has always been at school, so so so worth the lingering imposter syndrome. 

After their tassels were moved from the right to the left and their bachelors' degrees official, one of the PhDs said something like this to those graduates: "you've just joined a community; welcome, and for those who might perceive it as an exclusive group, let's clear that up. Like all of the faculty on stage, whatever their degrees, you just became a life-long problem-solver with one overarching goal: better the world. As someone whose safe (and comfortable) space is learning more, I heard that. 

Dear friends, PhD or whatever, less procrastinating and more get out there in the world to enhance, advance, uplift. 

17/31

Links to 16/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Educators know that it's very special when a student leaves something on your desk: a note, a treat, a drawing. My favourites were always the drawings. Is there any more precious vibrant thing than a child's drawing?

As a former educator, I cherished and displayed them all and somewhere I have a box full of them. Even better, some of my former students pursued careers in art and now a few of their art-pieces are displayed in our home. 

One such original art-piece is this portrait of an early-model typewriter made by this fun-loving creative. As you may or may not know, a portrait typically represents a person, focused on their face, but portraits are not always people. Whatever the subject, it's about capturing the essence, the personality, and in this case, it's obvious that this typewriter has seen some things and has many stories to tell. 

I adore this typewriter. Why? I love to write and I love art—it's the perfect combo and especially meaningful considering that I taught this student high-school English and Art. I also adore the artist, not just for her talent but also for her generosity. To compliment the newspaper column I wrote for decades, she urged me to start a blog. At the time (over 15 years ago), I didn't even know what a blog was, but her encouragement became this creative, reflective, uplifting, sometimes therapeutic space to grow, a life-long lifeline. 

I have no idea what I did to deserve this gift, but I do know this: sometimes the student is the teacher. 

6/31

Links to 5/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Well that was a surprise. Sort of.

This week we received some exciting news from our son and his partner: they're engaged! 

Although the timing wasn't anticipated, this was not unexpected news; they've been together for almost four years and have two kids. So, during our FaceTime conversation, I surprised them with a little gift to bless this ongoing union. 

I've been waiting patiently for this engagement forever... so, knowing how much we all love Lego, I've been blending together various mini-figures to configure their bride and groom likenesses. Let's be honest: if you knew them, I think you'd be impressed by the accuracy. And with that in mind, these vibrant things would be a perfect wedding cake topper, wouldn't they? 

Crews

as seen on the outside of an adorable
kids' appliance-cardboard-box fort

I'm still so uplifted by the crew from Artemis II. 

Fresh from space, they spoke so eloquently and warmly about each other and their team experience, their lifework, an incredible legacy.  

Moved, Astronaut Christina Hammock Koch praised her team, describing the four of them surviving and working and relying on each other as "inescapably, beautifully, dutifully linked." She continued, saying this about observing "tiny Earth...a lifeboat [suspended in] the blackness...I know one new thing...Planet Earth: You. Are. A. Crew." 

Inspiring. I heard her, and I needed to hear it. Dear friends, we are a crew, but let's be honest, back here on Earth, our planet is not so tiny. And unlike those astronauts hurtling through space for ten days on a mission, we don't have to be inescapably joined to recognize our value to each other. To me, her key word was dutiful. 

Think of children making forts from their cardboard boxes and couch cushions. Remember those fun spaces? They felt novel and energizing, like drawing a magic circle around your squad, your peeps, your crew. But then it happens...someone is excluded, or the older siblings would arrive... (mean? jealous? suspicious? power-hungry? insecure? intolerant? controlling? bored?) and for whatever stupid reason, the fort is destroyed.

We humans are messy, complicated, fearful, puzzling—essentially children at times—and there's no possible way we can all belong at once to one crew. Yet most of us know we have a fundamental duty to each other and when we live in service to our own and others' well-being, there can be more peace among our crews, among us all. 

Lifework

I'm so inspired by the Artemis II astronauts. (Click here to read about another likewise inspired Gen X'er.) 

The mission is a milestone achievement for us Canadians as it marks the first time a Canadian (Jeremy Hansen) is part of a lunar mission. If you're following it, you also know it's the first time a woman (Christina Hammock Koch) has orbited the moon. And it's a Canadian-U.S. collaboration. Sigh, I remember those days fondly. 

I first heard about the mission over a week ago while watching a news clip during which a cynical news commentator cited the mission as yet another distraction by the US administration to deflect from ongoing scandal after scandal. At the time I felt just as cynical. I still do. How can I not? As I mull over this war and its warmonger leader easily rage-bated by a criminal regime he and his claquers thought he could bulldoze down over the weekend to do what...build a statue of himself and a ballroom? Insert 63 swear words and the barf emoji here. 

It's exhausting.

But, dear friends, look to some real leaders: the men and woman aboard this ship the size of a ten-person tent. Their aim is to test the aircraft's systems for future missions and exploration, and that in itself is historic, but in the clip below, there's a truly human operative unfolding: I'd call it lifework. Using this opportunity, the astronauts seem to surprise a fellow crew member with a touching dedication, one that speaks to authentic legacy: not greed, not fame, not to escape consequences, but what we selflessly do in the name of honour and friendship. 

For those who love...

Homer Simpson said it so well:
"I'd be a vegetarian if bacon grew on trees."

Just a little bacon appreciation post for those who love salt and happiness. 

Years ago a friend oh-so-randomly filled a pause in the dinner party conversation by remarking, "Frick, bacon's expensive!" 

Well! You probably had to be there to fully appreciate this, but we laughed all night about his well-timed but left-field declaration and FOR YEARS NOW, whenever there's a lull in the game-night or supper discussion, someone inevitably drops this arbitrary statement and we laugh and laugh again. 

Dear friends, I hope you and your pals have inside jokes.   

Snowmo-being

Thanks, son. 

There's so much more sunshine these March days, yet snowfall after snowfall continues. We know there's no point in complaining, but that never prevents a Canadian from griping about the weather. Between complaints though... why not go sledding?  

My son (the stuntman in the photo) recently repaired my "sled," a weighty old-school no-name-brand-yellow clunker of a (perfect-for-me) snowmobile. Thanks to him, my clunker has much more gumption. 

As the photo implies, my son and I approach snowmobiling differently. One might say we have opposite ways of snowmo-being. He's no fool, but he's more of a risk-taker and quite unflappable. My approach is more cautious, and uh, geriatric. Nevertheless, despite differing "braaaaap" styles, inside us we're experiencing the same emotion: pure joy.    

I often say that my son possesses many of my characteristics and all those I wish I had. Did I have his confidence at his age? Nope. Could I repair a snowmobile or anything else? Nope. But I could draw it, paint it, describe it, neglect it, and then buy parts so he could fix it. I believe this relationship is referred to as er...symbiosis, or is it codependency? 

I josh. I'm grateful for him. He needs me though too. After we zipped around for a while, I pressed my brake and noticed no resistance. Hmm. This was not overly concerning among the flat prairie fields, but I made a mental note and adjusted accordingly. Later, I mentioned the brake problem. His reply?  "Oh yes, I know; I haven't fixed the brakes yet." 😕Perhaps he could have shared that important info pre-braaaap?

I told you he was unflappable. (Or perhaps planning my demise?) We chuckled; we both know there's something I'm a bit better at than him at least sometimes: fundamental communication. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

A quick reminder:

we all know some words are better left unsaid. Conversely, this adage suggests that some words are best said.

Precise language impacts worldview. Words influence action. So, dear friends, what if you and I—at some point today—released this word like a balloon into this sorry world? 

It certainly couldn't hurt, could it? 

Makers

im-peck-able design :)

Recently, I enjoyed a few hours playing with my middle granddaughter, I. Considering she has a new baby brother, she loved the undivided attention. And me? Also a total boost. 

She has the cutest bedroom; last summer I helped her Mom paint it pink and white. Her Auntie painted big yellow flowers along one wall. Her room is big, with ample space for toys. Although I will always be a fan of big cardboard boxes, stones, and crayons, some modern toys exhibit impressive design. I's miniature A-frame cabin—it has a tiny glowing campfire next to it—ha, I played with its sound effects more than she did! And of course she has a big bookshelf with her Mom's childhood rocking chair next to it. We spent most of our time reading aloud: she brought me book after book after book—this is classic playtime with I. 

But my favourite of her toys? A knitted chick. Imagine the person who created this?! How could you be sad or anxious with this little friend?  

Let's take a moment today for people who make things: artists, creators, composers, cake-decorators, all types of creatives—their skills, their imaginations, their hands. In these modern times of tearing-down, remember and celebrate the people who make things: they empower us, they comfort us, they inspire us. 

Markus Zusak said, "I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate." Sad but true, eh? Let's be honest though: the greater skill is to make something that de-escalates this impulse. 

Dear friends, what do you make? Or which maker inspires you? 

Let's be honest:

Thanks, Chris
(for fries cooked in beef tallow,
 and for everything else too).

Everyone should know a guy who

a. knows a guy

b. knows a guy who knows a guy

c. knows how to make homemade French fries.

Dear friends, who's your guy? And what do they know?

Need this today?

Sometimes random revitalizes. 

 Happy Hogmanay. 

A couple of years ago, this postcard arrived in my post office mailbox, anonymously. Postcards like these were created by local students and distributed randomly to help launch a men's mental-health campaign, still ongoing. It's still tacked to my office wall. I like it there. 

At that time, I was experiencing some physical and mental health problems that I didn't want to be public about...didn't want to trouble anyone with...and although my situation was not dire, this postcard found me just when I needed it, just when I felt most alone. I re-read it every single day. I also sought support. Many men don't. 

Last Hogmanay, my new years mantra was an attempt to shake my fist at the oncoming cultural shitstorm (and it was), but this year...? The forecast continues to be shitstorm, but fingers crossed for less fist-shaking and more hand-extending. Dear friends, if you need help, don't wait for a postcard. Consider this random internet guy the messenger you (perhaps) needed today.  

You can't see it until...

I'm painting again. 😊

Artist and author Lynda Barry said it so well: "There's the drawing you are trying to make and the drawing that's actually being made—and you can't see it until you forget what you were trying to do."

Dear friends, Lynda Barry is talking about life, too. 

Forget it and keep going. 

The Forecast

The Northern Lights, we swear.

On Tuesday night, My friend Kate (who lives on the other side of Alberta) and I excitedly texted each other our best Northern Lights pics. The sky did not disappoint: those greens, those pinks, and those reds?! 

Whoa. 

Forecasters said the next evening they would be even more impressive! Could it be possible? 

Uh yes...last night...insert record-scratch here...they certainly were...something else, lol. 😀

Dear friends, I hope you have screwball friends with whom you can share some Abnorthern Lights (and whatever else brings the haha we all deserve in these 2020s). 

Moved

I haven't attended an arena concert since 1991 (Sting), so the Sarah McLachlan concert this past weekend at Edmonton's Rogers Place was...overwhelming, good overwhelming. She performed with the band Tiny Habits; combined they just might be the sad song music therapy epicenter, lol. For a guy who read this book as a beacon to the shadows, let's be honest...all the feels, all at once. 

Things have changed since 1991. Mostly me. This time, sober, conscious, I brought a well functioning (mostly) frontal lobe. But my brain still wanted to play games. The venue? The crowd? Yikes. Massive. This introvert's initial reaction? Fear. And the Dad in me kept waiting for the event safety spiel, lol. But soon I forgot because somehow, Sarah made it feel cozy. 

I have a list of musicians I've longed to experience live: Sarah was third. She's a one-of-a-kind Canadian treasure of a human and her concert did not disappoint. Imagine being a child with hearing loss and becoming a global award-winning performer who used her mastery of sound and voice and language to change the world. (See the Lilith Fair documentary.) 

I had hoped she would perform her cover of Joni Mitchell's song River (Mitchell is the #1 artist on my list). Yet with every hit, old and new—her voice like a weighted blanket—I soon forgot and then she sang a favourite: Ice Cream. 

Years ago I sang this song to my kids at bedtime. If you know it...your love is better than ice cream...better than chocolate...better than anything else that I've tried...that might seem fitting but this song—deceptively simple and upbeat—is also dark, and most importantly, honest...but everyone here knows how to fight...how to cry...it's a long way down to the place where we started from.... That's why I love the song: it juxtaposes exuberant delight with that abrupt anguish inevitable in all our relationships, the mirth and the melancholy. She did not sing her crushing song from Toy Story 2 either, but she did sing a song she wrote about her relationship struggles with her daughter, entitled Gravity. Oh wow. 

While waiting to vacate that massive arena, a stranger asked me what I thought of the concert. Sheepishly, I told her I cried a few times. She nodded and smiled, "you were moved." I'm still moving. 

Dear friends, what's moved you lately? 

Prescription

One of my favourite actors, Robin Williams famously portrayed Dr. Oliver Sacks in the film Awakenings. It seems to me there's a lasting alchemy in this convergence of two humans who greatly impacted the world.

A doctor, a professor, a writer, Dr. Sacks described himself as "agonizingly shy" but he developed a strong bond with Williams who much admired Sacks' gentle genius approach to neurology, informed by science but rooted in human connection. Williams loved that Sacks saw people, not patients and it's clear Williams infused this character trait in his film performance. 

Dr. Sacks wrote about his own struggle as a patient in his book, A Leg to Stand On. After a serious hiking injury, Sacks felt "legless" and disconnected from his body. Unable to walk for months, Sacks ruminated on his lost identity. Many years later, no doubt Williams ruminated in a similar manner as he secretly battled a form of dementia and its inevitable impacts to his quality of life and his legacy. Sadly, we all know what happened next. 

I miss these men in the world. 

Dr. Sacks' legacy is in his writings. He describes methods whereby a patient might cease to feel "the presence of illness and the absence of the world, and come to feel the absence of illness and the full presence of the world.” But how? The film Awakenings explores this, but Dr. Sacks promoted a more everyday method to achieve the full presence of the world: he prescribed garden visits. 

Is there a better place to at least temporarily forget what bothers? Dear friends, just wondering: have you been outside today? 

Quilted

In Canada, September 30 is National Truth & Reconciliation Day, also known as Orange Shirt Day. Most schools and government offices are closed. 

In my community, to recognize and partake in ongoing reconciliation between Indigenous peoples and settlers, local school children designed quilt squares which were knitted together and displayed in solidarity.

If you're unfamiliar with this growing Canadian tradition, watch this CBC Kids video featuring the founder of Orange Shirt Day, elder and author Phyllis Webstad. Confronting racism, her story and growing activism has changed our country for the better.