father and son

Not long ago I was told for the ten billionth time that I talk too much. That person won a free story about being adopted. She didn't appreciate it very much, however I told it anyway. Yes, I was adopted. That's where this story started. My story. Back in 1973 a woman met a man in Halifax. He was, I assume, handsome. Maybe he was funny. Maybe he could tell a good story. I don't know, I've never met him. That woman got frightened about the baby brewing in her belly. And who could blame her. It was the early seventies, he was black, she Irish Catholic. I'm not even sure that wouldn't be a controversy now. I can't even imagine what went through her head, but what I do know is that's where this story started. She packed up and left town for the west coast. Her sister was there and she felt as though it would be a better place to come to term. Soon she was getting bigger and bigger, and soaking up the Vancouver pace. She met a man who stood by her side, even though she carried another man's child. That man went on with his life in Halifax and was never informed of the son. The date arrived and she gave birth to a boy on Halloween night, 1973. The man she had met was in the room. He stood by her then as he does now. She immediately went back to PEI to be with her family. He followed, their courtship continued. They've been married ever since. A wonderful story. I figure that I had a hand in bringing them together.

On the fateful day that I was given up, I was given a name. Matthew James Murphy. Names from the bible. Names for a child that would end up in the arms of another mother.

Around the same time a family that lived outside of Vancouver had suffered two miscarries, and was not interested in the pain of another. The mother of one beautiful girl, wanted to adopt one more. She was a philanthropist, an environmentalist, and a humanist. She believed that a under privileged, or mixed race baby, would help the fabric of society. She also told me that she loved marble iced cream and that was a factor. Either way I was brought into their home. A small curly haired baby made his way to what would be his home. They gave the baby a name. Matthew James Hrushowy. Just a coincidence, or fate? I guess I never had a chance with names. Even though I would just be called Jamie. Or Hrushowy (ra-show-ee) In case you wondered.

My parents got a divorce when I was about four years old. The only thing that I remember about that moment, was my Dad backing out of the driveway and my Mom and sister crying. I cried because they cried. I didn't know why. That's about as much emotion I've had about the situation since then. From what I'm told there were weekend visits, but I don't remember. My sister and my father have kept a relationship, but ours fell apart just after he backed away. It's not something that I can be mad at, because I would have to know more about him to be mad. And I don't. About ten plus years ago we sort of came to an agreement that we wouldn't put pressure on each other be "friendly". If it was going to be fake anyway, what's the difference. I wasn't mad, but I was bitter. Bitter that he had a parent\child relationship with my sister, and my brother and sister from his next marriage. I felt left out. I always felt special as a kid, as a teenager, as an adult, but not always positively. Sometimes I felt that everything was going wrong, all the time.

My Mom remarried and he was a tyrant hidden in sheep's clothing. On the surface everything was good. He was a successful dentist, we had a large house with property. There were vacations and bikes, but there were also beatings, neglect, and psychological trauma. He was monster. It was different then my Dad, he just wasn't around. This guy was around and wanted to kick my ass. He would argue with his daughter from his first marriage, and when she stormed out he would kick me in the back. One night a friend stayed over and we were playing in the morning. By this time I was fairly used to it. (which isn't right) The door to the playroom opened and I saw a silhouette of man with a hose. It was actually his belt. He pulled me up by the arm and lashed my backside over and over. My friend trembled and hid under the table as the beating went on. When he was done, he walked away proud, I sat there without a tear. My friend never came over again. Nobody did. Ten years went by. People have sometimes wondered why at school I wasn't afraid of bullies. At least they were my size.

After my Mom divorced him, my Dad divorced his second wife. At that point I had a sister, a half brother and sister, three step sisters, and a step brother. This doesn't include my biological mothers family, But I didn't know her yet. I would soon. In conjunction with my Mom and Child Find Canada we searched for her. She had already searched for me. Her pain came with the guilt that she felt about the adoption. Scared that it was a bad home, an unhealthy upbringing. Fortunately through it all I had my Mom. By now a rare blood disease had begun taking over her organs. Slowly she was becoming weaker and weaker. She felt it was important that I met the Bio-mom, she felt it was important that I was a part of something positive. And it was. Bio-mom was a wonderful find. I was two fathers down, but had now got another parent. What was crazy was that she was still married to that man from Vancouver, and they had two beautiful daughters. It was the first time that someone had looked like me. These were people that I shared blood with. But there was a piece missing. Not for me, but for her. She sought out the man from Halifax. Her conscience was almost clear from what took place over twenty-five years earlier. And she found him. They reintroduced each other. He had a struggles of his own, through his own adoption, but had emerged the man he wanted to be. He was excited to meet me, but I declined. I had been through too much. My Dad, my step-dad, my mother had died after a painful fight. I couldn't do it. I was too weak. I still am.

Since then I have brought my own child into the world. I've never had a father figure, but have learned the lessons of "what not to do". Pretty simple. Don't drink yourself in a blur that includes, violence, and neglect. Don't hit your kids, acknowledge them. Like yourself. I was petrified when I found out I was going to be a father. I didn't want to become the people that influenced my childhood. I won't. Nature verses nurture. My Mom was always there for the nurture and the bio-mom was passive. All you need is love? The bio-dad has tried to reach me. My bio-mom takes on the brunt of his questions, leaving me anonymous. But is that right? Should I become the bigger man and face my demons? Sure the fathers have two strikes against him, but should he be punished for their mistakes?

So many important things have happened to me, to make me who I am. Could I be stalling a end to this circular mountain of events to be selfish? I honestly don't know.

I just found out that he is suffering from colon cancer. I don't think that I should deprive him of his only son.

Time is not on my side.

Normally I don't ask, but my friends, I need your help. Please comment.

Jesusland!

God Bless America.

In God we Trust.

America is a great land. One I used to want to live in as a matter of fact. I loved the attitude, the cheap smokes, buying beer at the gas station. Land of the free! Somethings different now. They've lost their way a bit. Well more than a bit. We have a front row seat to this debacle and it's being proven more and more that we disapprove. Sometimes I feel lucky that we can sit next door and see what a country can become if it's not monitored. It's kind of like that moment of silence you have before you realize that your three year old is being too quiet. By the time you realize it half of your video games have felt marker on them. It's almost ironic that they have invaded a country that is having a civil war, but can't see the war on their own turf. They don't realize that they have divided a nation based off of a few points that distinctly claim that you are either a patriot, or a terrorist. A liberal, or a conservative. A Democrat, or a republican. Is it really that simple? Do you really have to subscribe to one belief, or else? And major news channels actually defend this? Now that's a little strange.

I watched a documentary the other day called, "Escape to Canada" It was very interesting. It talked about our liberal views on same-sex unions, marijuana, and war.( and the people that have been there and don't want to go back) It talked about how we wanted to be a beacon in the world, of tolerance, understanding, and human rights. It showed that a lot of Canadians, even if they are not 100% sure about something, like gay marriage, would vote for it simply because we didn't want to be like Americans. Now Fox News would probably feel that's anti-American. To do something strictly because it's not want they would do. I'll cover that a little later. Canadians seem to believe that if it's not hurting anyone, if it's not really insulting anyone, then go for it. We are not polarized like the U.S. We don't have set rules in our interpretation of religion. I say interpretation because, it appears that there is another bible that is specific to the U.S., its citizens. It speaks of a God that only looks upon them, and upon their enemies with malice. As if God can separate between the borders of one nation and decide that they are better, most suited, and deserving of his love. Wouldn't that go against the idea of a God. He loves everyone.( within a certain criteria). As a baptized Catholic I'm a little offended. Granted I haven't been to church regularly in probably twenty years. That has a lot to do with the rules set by some of the institutions. I want to believe in some of it, but not all of it. I can't understand why we should honor thy mother and father as long a neither are gay. Love thy neighbor, as long they believe what you believe. Thou shall not kill, unless you're in Texas. You can't have it both ways. Can you? Americans sometimes come across as if the rules don't apply to them. Other nations can't have nuclear weapons, but they continue to produce them.

When we were asked about the war in Iraq we said no, and took heat for it. The nightly news channels made fun of Canada, called us weak. Yet failed to mention that we had jumped into Afghanistan and still have troops there. In fact as of today 78 brave soldiers have lost their lives for the fight. We were criticized for the blackout from years ago, but it turned out to be a plant in Michigan, not us. CNN must have forgotten to apologize. It is important that we stay firm. Our older, stronger, but maybe slower brother can't push us around anymore. I admit when Harper got elected I was nervous. He has a lot of the same values as G.W.B. The media is what truly separates our two nations. We don't have a TV channel that can out right support one side of everything. Fox News will only show one side of the story every time. Theirs! If you are a minority, gay, or non-christian, you are a threat to America. You can't support the war and gun control. You can't like the Dixie Chicks and vote republican. The rules are solid. It's one or the other. It's kinda like that stupid tough guy from your high school. When you come out the door he says, "what are you looking at?" but when you say nothing, he replies, "oh I'm nothing!" and then kicks your ass. There is nothing that you can say. Just ask that kid that was on the O'Reilly factor that lost his Dad on 9\11 but was told that he had a, "warped view of this world and a warped view of this country" because he didn't support the war. The mainstream media stations can openly say whatever they want as long as it perpetuates the message. Whatever the message is. I find it impossible to know whether to trust anything that CNN, and FoxNews has to say. Why? Because they've made it very clear that agenda is more important than fact. A woman was suspended from the golf channel because she showed "poor judgment" when she used the word lynch and Tiger woods in the same sentence. Oh if you didn't know he's half black. And he didn't care. She got suspended? Ann Coulter has referred to Darfur as, "This is truly a war in which we have absolutely no interest." Canada, " They are lucky we allow them to exist on the same continent"

Yet she's still invited on CNN. I think that as long as it is from a position of right wing beliefs, you can say what you want. Race isn't covered by that, so you may get fired.

I truly don't know if I have a point today, I'm writing out of anger. Yesterday a man I've never met, died. It is suspected that it was an accidental overdose, but maybe a suicide. Either way a Fox Newsman by the John Gibson of, " The Big Story" mocked Heath Ledger on his radio show yesterday afternoon. He made light of Brokeback mountian, and called him a weirdo. This is a young father, great actor and non-American. Maybe he disagreed with the movie choices he made, or his divorce, or Australia. Whatever the reason it was uncalled for. John Gibson is a disgusting human being. When the karma comes around, I hope that the good people of America use their freedom of Speech to exploit this degenerate. And don't forget about Fox news. They deserve to hear your cries as well.

By the way you may contact Fox : comments@foxnews.com

www.john.gibson@foxnews.com
call him directly on the radio program between 6pm and 9pm Eastern time. 1-866-868-6861 it's free

Pay it Forward.....

Every once in a while I think the world is going to shit. I see parents smoking in their cars with their kids, windows up because it's freezing. Those are the people that are shocked when the child grows up to smoke, and have asthma. There's the fact that there are scary wars, fanatical tyrants, and American Idol. Absolute shit! It freaks me out. I mean how can I explain to my daughter when she's grown up, what the worlds about? A report has just come out that tell of the horror that is our schools, a friend of mine just told me that he slept with his computer science teacher when he was in high school. What a world. I keep thinking it was different when I was a kid. But was it? Vietnam had just ended when I was born. We protested the first Gulf war when we were teenagers. There was a crazy serial killer in the west coast named Clifford Olsen making walking to school terrifying. Maybe its always been this way?

I think that there are a group of people that truly believe that there are other people in the world. They are the people that say thank you when you hold the door.( assuming that you hold the door) They are the people that show respect, and a sense of propriety. Usually when people are flying past me on the road so that they can shave three minutes off their trip, or pushing past to get a better seat on the train, I think that we are heading further down the pipeline to hell. I remember when T was pregnant with our little girl. We went to a restaurant downtown where we were going to watch the Leafs(worst team ever?) play the Sens( wouldn't cheer for them if they were the only Canadian team!)The bar was packed and we were waiting for our table. I noticed that two men had just paid their bill and we decided to linger back, rather than hover over top of them. T didn't really care she was a trooper. I, of course, was a bag of nerves. She was nine months and ready to pop, in fact we were on our way to the hospital to be induced right after the game.*

* for those of you that don't live in Toronto. When you are set to have a baby, but the Leafs have miraculously have made the playoffs, you watch the game first, then have the baby.

Now T had one of those bellies that you couldn't really see from behind. You would see her and then she'd turn around and you'd be like yikes, Preggo! So as the two men got up, a dude that had seen me scope the table quickly sat down with his buddy. When I turned around and saw this the vein in my head lit up. The dude looked at me and said, "too bad buddy. You should've been faster." Of course I readied the knuckles, but was stopped by T. Oh, and I can't fight and have never been in one. T turned around and the dude sunk his head in shame. Then two very important things happened. First, the dude didn't have the balls to give up the seat. Instead he sat there feeling like an asshole instead. Which I found kinda funny. He had an opportunity to step up and say, "oops, my mistake", but he didn't. What a coward. Secondly two other men right beside where we were standing that had seen the entire situation go down, stood up and told T to take their seats. They hadn't finished eating, and still had a half pints. T declined, but they insisted. I fumed. Before long the serving staff had heard the story. Each one of my friends that we were meeting did too. As we paraded to our table past the chicken shit, everybody had a comment for him. The young men across from them joined in as well. I'd even heard that the manager was going to ask them to leave. It was amazing that so many agreed, joined in and fought against ignorance. It made me slightly more relaxed about bringing a child into the world.

Only slightly mind you.

I'm not the most understanding person in the world, even I can admit that. However, I think that I give everybody a chance. What drives me crazy is this attitude that society has taken towards its fellow man. It seems that people have to treat others like crap to feel better about themselves. I took my truck into a local garage, because I'm not a mechanic, and the guy there was very quick to point out that I have no idea what I'm talking about. Okay, I already know that, thanks! As I give him my series of sound effects that explain the problem he shrugs me off. meanwhile I'm thinking, do you want my business? So he says something along the lines of, well I don't know if I can do that. So I replied, well I can take it somewhere else if you'd like? All of a sudden he has taken another position Is it because he realizes that I'm going to leave? Is it because he realizes that he should be trying to be more helpful? Whatever the reason, he was now my friend. Why did it take me being an ass to get him there? I was grocery shopping for a party that we were hosting and T wanted to get some Lox. When she asks the guy at the counter, he explains that there are two types of Lox that you can buy. Except he says it as if T's an idiot. As if she, and everyone should already know this. So she calls me over because she's embarrassed about the question, and hated salmon.(?) I am extremely hung over at the time. Now, I truly believe that T deliberately brings me out when I'm hung, so that I can exact revenge on the public. The guy tells me that there are two kinds and reply that we will have the regular stuff. He then says that they are out of it. My brow tightens, my lips are clenched, I say," okay, then we'll have the other one." He then says that they are out of that one as well. I almost jumped over the counter. "Why the fuck didn't you mention that at the beginning?" I chirped. He was all of a sudden offended. " Seriously? Rather than make it seem like we're stupid?" T grabs me and drags me away. It seems like it's the way of the world. You are the idiot! It's unfair.

If you don't like your job, your life, your situation its probably your fault. Not everyone else's. You can't expect to use other people to bounce you anger off. A few years ago, I was returning bottles to the Beer Store when the part-time union employed guy told me they do not take Red Stripe stubbies. I say to the guy do you have a recycling bin I can throw these in? He says again that they don't take them. "I don't want the money, I just want to put them in the bin" He pipes up about how it's not his problem. He's angry, about something, but it has got nothing to do with me. (again hungover) "Look man, if you don't like your fucking job, then quit. But don't be a fucking asshole to me." He gives me crazy eyes. As if he's going to jump over the counter and fight me because I asked if he had a garbage can. I shrugged and told him come on over. He didn't. Just to repeat myself, I don't fight. I don't even believe in it. I just believe that people try and bully other people too much. Too many times we act as if we are going to go to the extreme just to show our balls, but at the end of the day, we don't have them. You're not going to fight someone over a simple question about recycling. You're not going to get out of your car when you tailgate someone and honk, you just want to seem tough. Behind the tinted window of your Nissan Sentra, you just want to appear tough. If you actually were, maybe your windows wouldn't be tinted? Although I can't, and will not fight, I also don't think that other people want to either. I've worked in bars for years and I have seen lots of fights. They're easy to spark, but not as easy to flame. And I don't think that the Walmart parking lot is good place to start!

Don't get me wrong, it is okay to hate your job. It's okay to hate your life. It's not okay to blame, or punish anyone else. They didn't make the decisions that you rue, they aren't going to fix it either. A good friend of mine speaks the gospel of positive thinking. It's a great plan. You are responsible for your own happiness. She has a daily blog that tells of what makes her happy on a daily basis. ( http://www.thebestlifeever.com/ ) I agree. It's hard not let out your frustrations on someone else, but it's also pathetic. So don't. Misplaced anger is such a terrible thing. It's not the store clerk, the drive through lady, or the bartender. They didn't make the prices that you hate, or the product that broke, or the bagel you wont eat. Your anger should be directed at those that have wronged you, not those that have served you. All that does is make them hate their job as much as you hate yours. Then they're rude to the next person that wants to return empties, and the cycle repeats itself. If I'm trying then surely you can. And I know there is a lot of us out there that want change. That want a better world. That have earned respect, and deserve honor. I know this because I've seen them. We need to stand tall and be seen and heard. Yesterday the woman in front of me paid for my coffee in the Tim Hortons drive through because she felt she made me wait too long. I didn't care. I was rocking out to Dave Matthews, but when I got to the window I felt a good vibe in the world. She was so aware of her surroundings that she was concerned for me. I never saw her face, or got a chance to thank her. But was a great start! On my way to work tonight, someone's getting a coffee. Hopefully they will pay it forward.

Beauty

They often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Some say that it is on the inside. I don't know. Remember those Dove ads that referred to the real women? Normal people on billboards, curvaceous ladies in their bra and panties? Brilliant. Then they revealed that YouTube gem of the everyday woman transformed into a supermodel. Some everyday girl made from ordinary to gorgeous in seventy five seconds. She didn't want to be famous. She didn't want the limelight. She was weary about the fame. Then did E!, and NBC news, and entertainment tonight. I also hear that fame is like becoming a vampire, the moment it sinks its teeth in you, you can't stop. I wonder if Dove would hire her now? Has she maintained that innocent, girl next door look. Has her attitude remained as humble as her contrived answers on the network news shows? Perhaps it would be different if it had been a dream of hers, it would be an easier thing to handle. I've dreamt of winning an Oscar since I was a wee lad, so I may be prepared to be in public. Maybe those Dove girls had no such dream. They never thought that thousands would be watching them on the Internet. Now that their fifteen minutes has ticked away, and the creator of those spots became way more important than them, the downfall begins.
Don't get me wrong being famous can be a bitch. I've worked in restaurants where celebs ate with one hand and signed autographs with the other. Where hockey players asked if they could finish eating with their parents before a picture, and a neat line formed, waiting patiently. (Canadians! So polite!) I've talked with major league MVP's, met the Great One, and glad handed the worlds best actors. The most interesting thing about any of them is who they really are. The fact that they could look into a crowd and see people that are star struck, and autograph seekers, but all they want is talk normally. With anybody that I've had the pleasure of meeting, I've left their job off the list of topics to talk about. If they bring it up, fine, but only then. That has created a bond between us. It's easy to hang out with someone who doesn't keep saying, "Wow" with an eerie look in their eye. Sure most of the top stars don't have normal lives, they don't wait for stuff, people bend over backwards for them. Sometimes I don't think that it's their fault. A lot of times it's one of their entourage, "do you know who this is?" It's not the celeb.
Now I'm not saying that there is not a huge group that are absolute assholes. And I've had the pleasure of meeting some of them as well. You'll notice it's not the A-list, even the B, or C list. It those people that you don't know. It's those people that have to remind you of the channel, show and character that they play. And you still don't know who the fuck they are! Or you do, and don't care, and want them to explain it some more. I had a guy once tell me that he was friends with #99 and wanted a seat on the patio. Okay? He showed me his Superbowl ring from the Patriots, and said that he deserved a little special treatment. Okay? He said that he was friends with Wayne and "other" athletes. Okay? Of course I told him that there were no seats still, and I wasn't going to kick someone out so that a guy I'd never heard of, knew some people I'd never met, wanted a prime seat. Secondly, a hockey player, coach, GM, order of Canada recipient is friends with some offensive lineman from New England? Okay. Those fringe celebs hate the world because the world doesn't know enough about them to make fun of them on PerezHilton.com. As if making a good living doing what you love isn't enough. (Excuse me, a tear has fallen on my cheek)
The inspiration to me has always been the people that remain even cooler in person, then on TV. When I was in high school I was an extra in a movie, We're no angels. If you are unfamiliar with this movie, it's because it was terrible. Nevertheless, it starred some real talent. Bobby De Niro, Sean Penn, Demi Moore( she was hot!), John C Reilly and Bruno Kirby. Reilly wasn't a superstar, Kirby hadn't done City Slickers. And they were very nice to a young boy who wanted to learn about the movies. Mr. Penn and Mr. De Niro were even nicer. They were angels. Sean told me about the sound taping inside of a scene, De Niro and I talked about the lake and area where we were filming. They were awesome, and inspiring. Back in '89 they didn't have tabloid magazines, or TMZ.Com, all I knew was people that I had met. I realized that if you didn't treat them like they were better, they were just as normal as you and I. Sean wore too much cologne, De Niro was kinda quiet. Demi Moore was a bitch, but she was new to fame herself. It would be another year before she skyrocketed from Ghost. Who cares, when you're seventeen and Demi Moore is fixing her nylons three feet in front of you, she can act anyway she wants!
That's the difference. We can accept that some people's lives are marred by fame, but they keep low. Then there's Britt! But it's the non-celebs that really fire up my rage. The Kim Kardashians, the Anna Nicoles, the Ashley Simpsons. These aren't real people. They didn't start a career in what they wanted. The became famous, then grasped at everything they could to maintain it. So what about the Dove girls? Did they go back to their jobs proud of who they are? Or did they want to keep grasping at the straws? Do they expect the nicest seat in the restaurant, or are they just some humble human beings? Is it their intention to ride the little bit of fame that they received, or will they go back to the life they had? The great thing about those ads is that you felt that they all had regular lives, that they were just like us. Until after the ad of course, then we hoped that they were still like us.

My heart was broken. I threw out my Dove products.(no I didn't) The beauty of evolution, missed a step. Watching that streaming video feed, like a film flip book, we were all amazed. A regular girl to supermodel. The key to that was that it was all fake. The end result was not real. That woman on the billboard wasn't a real person, she was a regular person transformed into something else. But the regular person wasn't real either, was she? She was a manikin. She spoke on TV, but it was rhetoric that fueled the campaign. (that I believe her husband created) Was she speaking from the heart? I mean it was a huge account. Someone probably made a shit load of money off of it. Was it her? Was it the marketing company? We could look at her before picture, and we related to it. My girlfriend felt they were akin. But what if she was rude, mean, inconsiderate, and a smoker. That's not like me. That's unattractive! Has Dove covered that part? Or is that essence of the campaign. Don't believe what you see. Don't believe any of it. From the first photo to the last, it's all phony. It's all an advertisement. And that's the beauty of it. Well done!

Keep your word, don't come back

We all have to work for a living. Until someone wants to pay me to do this, I'm forced to have a part-time job. Mine? Bartender. I know what you're saying, "cliche. A bartender with a story" Regardless of the image of people in the serving industry it is a great way to see an accurate slice of society. On my website I've discussed how entertaining it would be to have a show on TV that was called, the customer's always Wrong! Any of you that have worked in a restaurant or bar know this to be true. People's expectations have been thrusted beyond normality. People are coming in with the sole, intention of getting something for free. Not to mention that they are placing the onus on the establishment to provide their happiness. I don't know if it's misplaced anger, or ignorance, but you see it everyday. It is your job as a part of this society to put a stop to it whenever you can. I encourage you to stand up and say, that's wrong!

What the fuck are you talking about Jamie? I'll tell you. Long ago I remember noticing little things that went wrong when out with my tyrant of a step-father. He would belittle the waiter at a restaurant, he would demand from grocers. He was an asshole. What I remember more than anything is how I felt. Embarrassed. Uncomfortable. I could comprehend that something was not satisfactory, however the person being ripped a new asshole had little to do with it. That's where the problem lies. And it's people like him that needed to feel like a big man all the time. Probably why he felt okay about knocking around a little boy. Those people need to tower over others because they feel that it's what makes them a part of the elite of the world. But they are wrong. they must be told!

About six years ago I went to Toronto Island to watch the airshow with a friend. After the Snowbirds we headed to the ferry that takes you back to mainland with the hundreds of others. People lined up in an orderly fashion( Canadian, so polite!) and waited. And waited. Finally a young man working for the ferry got up at the front of the line and told us that one of the ferries had broken down and it was the one that was supposed to be there. Another ferry was coming, but because it was a bigger boat it had to use the dock about twenty feet to the right. Pretty much everyone that was at the back was now at the front and vice versa. Well after everyone had moved, two men who were there with their families, started to scream at this seventeen year old employee. And they were loud. They went on about how they were at the front (as if that mattered)and that this was bullshit. What struck me was that they were with their kids. They were looking like assholes in front of their children. I began to feel uncomfortable again. I could feel for this guy who probably hated his job as much as the rest of us hate ours, but he was being scolded in public. Before I knew it I spoke.

"Hey" I yelled in a loud booming voice.

"Do you think that he had anything to do with the boat breaking down? You think it's his fault? You're embarrassing yourself."

behind me I heard the beginning of a slow clap, and then a couple more people agreed aloud. One of them told me to mind my own business, but I reminded him that we'd be on the same ferry and we could talk about it then. He hung his head when I walked by him on the ship. Maybe it was the dreads, maybe it was the tone of voice, but I hope they stopped because they realized at that moment that it wasn't the worker they were mad at. It wasn't the line-up. Maybe it was them? Maybe they're upset with themselves? I don't give a shit what your problem is, when you are talking to someone show respect. As long as they deserve it.

You see in the service industry you have a lot of complaints. What makes it difficult is there is a lot of grey area in the complaints. People feel as if they can actually not like something, and not have to pay for it. Where in the real world that doesn't really work. You can't get off your flight and then go tell them you didn't like it. " Yeah, I opened this can of pop, and now I don't want it."

You'd think that we're printing money in the back. So many are under the impression that absolutely everything should be up to, or above their standards or else. They won't tip, come back, or recommend it to their friends. I find it strange that so much is put on the shoulders of the staff at certain places that you'd think that if everything is good, maybe fifteen percent is an insult. If it is within the right of the customer to say, " I would've tipped more, but.." Then I should be able to tell the others that their gratuity is unsatisfactory. It can't be a one way street. The rest of the world doesn't work this uneven, so why here.

The other night at the small place I pull pints at, there was an incident. A woman brought her Mom for her fiftieth birthday. She wanted very specific things for this occasion. You can understand that it is her mom, and fifty's a big day. Now here are some details that you don't know. 1) I work at an Irish Pub, not a fancy place, it's a pub

2) The cake that she bought for her Mom was a $20 generic chocolate cake from the supermarket.( Lame!)

3) She ordered a series of food platters, that were to be brought out two at a time. they forgot to mention that.

4) After she dropped off the stale cake, she left only to return two hours later pissed right off.

Now, these details are important because they led to her behaviour. Which was childish, and rude. Sadly the other people were affected by this attitude. And they were angrier than the staff. They thought that we should have thrown them out. By them, I mean the woman and the birthday girl.

The two girls serving the party hid in the back when they were winding down. The tyrant still ran amok, everyone trembling. I overheard her say that it wasn't how she wanted it to be. Everyone was mellow, and not much energy. There wasn't a large "surprise" or anything like that. Funny, that sounds like something that the daughter would be responsible for. She was also disappointed with the food, yet wasn't willing to pay a lot for it. She approached me and told me her peeves, I handed her a business card and told her she should explain her concerns to the manager. She continued and asked me to agree with her regarding the poor service and poor food, which is rude considering that I worked there. I repeated that she should tell the manager, and she said, "oh, I'll tell everyone". Then the highlight of the night. Her mother standing at the front door of the restaurant, said really loud, " This place sucks! I'm the birthday girl and it sucks! I'm telling everyone!"

What a gem! What a family! When you yell something like that as you're leaving, you have voided your chance to complain. Everything that you think, that may have been valid has gone out the window. How can you even have the gall to think that someone would listen to someone that deliberately tried to ruin the dining experience of others. Of course they just thought she was some drunk. They hurried off to the car, husbands in tow with their heads hanging in embarrassment. She probably should have picked up that pen with her name on it. I mean they're one google search away from knowing everything about her. Idiot. What's worse as that our paths will cross again, and then what? How proud was her Monday morning hangover, sitting in front of the computer screen, approving mortgages. With every house sold is she going to tell them not to eat at the pub? Is she going to brag to her friends that she yelled like a teenager, before running away? Proud? You always hear about comedians saying that they would like to go to someone's day job and heckle them, I can't tell you the desire I have to book a meeting with her. But I must be better. I have to be a part of the solution.

Fortunately for all of us she is also part of the solution. She said it perfectly; She's never coming back, and neither is anyone that she likes. Phew! Thank you for not putting my in a postion of having to retaliate.

What's love got to do......

Love.

Love?

I think that it's great when people give "advice" on relationships. What have we learned so far? The only relationship that any of us know about is the one we are, or the one we were in. Other than that we know nothing. I can't take the crap that went on in the last one and apply it to now. That one didn't work. In fact none of them worked! Thus the reason I'm tied into this pickle of a situation. The fact is that me and my girl, have no way to answer people when they ask, "what we are". Even though we vote to allow same sex marriage, and live in a liberal world, people are shocked when I don't say wife. They assume that somethings not right, or that we're not together. They ask when are we going to do it. ( it being marriage, not sex. Dirty reader) We're not. Well I've mentioned once or twice that if I'd win the lottery, I would at least ask. I just don't like the idea behind it. I think that the pressure is so immense that it is impossible to live up to it. This isn't like climbing a mountain folks. Or is it? Or should it be.

Now before you leave me some rash comment about how it doesn't apply to you, it probably doesn't. unfortunately some people go into a union all willy nilly, and don't think about the possibility of failure. In honor of Sir Edmund Hillary, I give you this analogy: When preparing to reach the apex of Everest, you must come to the realization that you may fail. In fact, it's a great possibility. It's a great probability! There are risks that need to be measured, calculated moves to ensure that you survive. And who do you rely on? The others in your team, people that have been up there before. And even those people have stories of failure, even they have had close calls. It a big step, and it's not for everyone.

"It won't happen to me!"

This has to be one of the most over used personal statements that people make other than, I'll never drink again. We have a panic button in our brains that repeats these words, just in case. If you think about it, we all feel that way. If we didn't we wouldn't smoke, drink and drive, have unprotected sex, speed, do drugs,etc. We do those things and have the croquettes to think that we are exempt from the consequences. We don't see any hard, fast results, so who gives a shit. If every time that you lit a cigarette there was a fifty percent chance that one would give you cancer, would you smoke it? As it stands now, any signs of long term smoking won't be here until later in life. Would you rather look at yourself in the mirror at sixty wondering if you'll get a chance to see you daughter get married, because you just found out you have the big C?

Where does the risk become worth it? If every time you had sex without a condom there was a significant chance that someone would get pregnant, or AIDS, would you stop to get a condom? We have the audacity to believe that it'll be someone else. Even if that someone is a friend or relative. I used to smoke. Like a chimney, and I loved it. I used to speed (not true), I used to drink like a rock star. I used to.

Then something happened. A little girl was born, and she was mine. This little...beebo. (no it's not her name, I'm not a psycho celeb! It's a word I created to describe what she looked like when she was born.) And I didn't quit right away. The fact is, I smoke and drank a lot more once I found out I was having a baby. I came up with a way to make all of this make sense to me. I would try and figure out a way to tell my little girl why I was doing whatever it was I was doing. If I was smoking I would imagine what that conversation would sound like.

"Daddy's just going to step outside and ingest some poison that I never want you to touch, for sole reason of self satisfaction."

What would she say, "why?" And I don't have answer. You see for the first time I had to think about the next few years, and the few after that. I had to take in the calculated risks and minimize them. I had to think about the consequences of my actions. I had to try and preserve my own life for another human being. And I wouldn't for a wife. I know that we can say love, but do we mean it? Always? In spite of everything? It's not that parents are trying to be in a certain club that differs from people without kids, but it's different. The love you have for your own child is unreal. Literally. It cannot be summed up in words, or compared to other people or basketball. They always say that being in love is a feeling that you have when you are in it. Love for your kid you aren't in, you are.

I think it would be unfair to anyone else to try and emote the same. It would be a lie to say the words. I wish that there was another word that we could use for non-parent\child love. Like, " I Love* you!!"

*- the asterisk enables the user to variations of the meaning of love, limited but not exclusive to excuses, apologies, and to initiate sex.

**- two asterisks maybe used in conjunction of, "I maybe falling in love with you", or "I could love you" for the purpose of trying to initiate oral sex

I remember when my Mom said that she loved me unconditionally, and I didn't know what it meant. Now I do. Its easy to understand when I look into those eyes.

Back then...

I've realized that the more time that I have, the more I talk to myself. Of course when you become a parent you look forward to the alone. You rush to be the one to run to the store, or walk to the mail box, not because of any particular reason other than your own thoughts. They can get lost in cleaning up Jello, or watching Diego go. Today as my girls were out of the house I found myself being nostalgic once again. I don't have a photographic memory, but what I do remember is what people said and the way the said it. I can remember the feeling in the room when my Mom left my dad. I can taste the smoke in my lungs the day she died, and I sweat thinking about the way I was treated in grade school. I'm a big believer in friendship and what it means to love, but I can't say that I've ever been great at either. I don't want to blame my childhood, or the first girl to break my heart, so I blame myself. In fact I created a shield that told everyone else to fuck off. I segregated myself from many because I knew that I would end up having a relationship that I would not, or could not continue. That doesn't mean that so many people in this world have meant so much, just that, as a realist I knew that it wouldn't last. I don't hold grudges when I've gone a lone time in between talking to old friends. Life goes on. Sometimes it doesn't work out, even for mutual friends. I'm sad that there are those I don't get to share a coffee with everyday anymore, or beer every night. And so many of them have such intricate lives themselves you'd wonder where we'd all fit. I've been gone from the west for so long we'd have to hang out and see if we still liked each other. How awkward would it be if we weren't? Would we tell our now significant others how much the other had changed? Would we have changed?

That's what plagued me as I soaked the dishes in the sink, listening to Dave Matthews sing, "stay or leave? I don't want you to go, but you should."( Stay or leave. DMB) Did I have to go? When I left Vancouver so many years ago, was it because I had to? I did. I had to leave. whatever I was then, whatever I had become I wasn't going to evolve for myself if I didn't. I told so many people that I would be back in a month, and never returned. It was one of the only times that I didn't complete what I said I would do. At least based on the fact that I never tried. That guy, that Jamie Hrushowy disappeared deep into my subconscious the day I left B.C. He hadn't been working out the way I wanted. I was in a job I hated, in love with a girl that didn't love me. In fact I think she was just out to torture me. My friends had changed. Some of those close to me didn't like me anymore. My mother had succumb to her illness and passed on. what was there for me? I asked myself that everyday. What is here for me! I hope that sounds selfish, because it was. Who else could I look out for at that time other than me? Fuck it! I'm leaving.

I never told anyone, but I had never intended on returning. I mean I wanted to ideally, but knew the chances were slim. I was never going to be looked at as anything other then what I had created there. Self-centered, womanizing, thinks he's funny kinda guy. Was I still that? I came to realize that it wasn't everyone else that changed, it was me. Change is an important part of our lives. I challenge anyone on theory of evolution based on their own life. If we didn't change where would we be? Some people don't, and live in bliss. The memories of high school keeping them afloat. Under the umbrella of comfort it's easy to remain the same. Yes i started something with an old friends ex. He was mad, I wasn't a friend to him then. He wasn't a friend to me when I needed him. She saw a damaged man pleading to be held. K.N. helped me escape. That time in my life before I left everything flipped upside down. Of course people couldn't understand my choices. She didn't either, but she didn't try to, and didn't judge me.

Leaving town can be a fairly drastic move. I wanted some sort of sign that it was the right move. I wanted to believe that there truly was no life there for me to enjoy. On my trip across Canada there was a good one when I found out that the "girl" that I thought I was in love with, was going to move in with some guy. Perfect! Thank you! Why couldn't you've done that like a year earlier. When I got to the big smoke I was still pretty green. I still thought of Vancouver a lot. I then found out that two of my colleagues at my old job had hooked up and it was getting serious. It was hard not to be happy for them. He was a good man, and she and I were friends for a very long time. She and I had worked together before and we'd always gotten on well. There were few people in that world of mine that I trusted, believed in, or felt for more than her. Late nights of counselling me, I actually thought she was one of the few that had seen past this mask. She'd seen my insecurities. This hardened, hatred that I carried for so long had slid down enough for her to see. It wasn't until years later that I could truly see the person I was, and it scared me that she may have. One night when I had abused as much alcohol as I could I crashed on her couch. In the morning I was giddy, maybe even funny, most likely still drunk. I was who I always was, a goof off. She wasn't. She was falling for this great man. She had changed. She took what was innocent, and stupid as advancing. Few things have hurt me so much. Few words have made me feel so low. I didn't feel bad about KN being a friends ex, because I saw the way she was treated. Of everything that I was. Of everything that I did. It's too bad that I was perceived as someone that would have done that to a friend, and to another. I guess that's who I was seen as, Back then.

the In-Crowd

I was talking with old friend from high school and I couldn't help think of the past. High school was such a small part of our lives, yet influential. I wonder why. I don't really remember the first few years and I think that's because I hated them. I was awkward and different, and unpopular. Much like everyone else. In reflection I've noticed that the people that were popular didn't necessarily go on to better lives and some that weren't have. The difference for me is that I was popular in the late stages of high school. People liked that I talked too much, that I acted out, that I thought I was funny. I sang in groups, acted in leading roles, and thought I was really funny. (some things don't change) It was my first sense of fame and the first time that those around me treated me different. People tried to please me by pleasing themselves. I could easily be a novelty to them. I remember when I fooled around with this girl and then one of her friends and no one cared. I admit that I completely took advantage of the situation. I mean I was a kid, do you blame me?

I don't think that we can have perspective on those times until we know who we are. I know that I have friends that still live and breathe by the times in high school. It was almost fifteen years ago and you want me to remember some guy I didn't like back then? Thanks facebook!

I recently heard that one girl that I wasn't dating put the kibosh on me sleeping with another girl because she didn't want to lose her place at the cool table. How does that effect them both? One is having a delusional affair with me that will never be real, the other can fall into a funk perpetrated by lies. Perhaps it will affect her self esteem, her confidence, and the fact that years later we can still look back annoyed that we never, "did anything". Would it have changed her life? Mine? What is for sure is that we are pleased with who we are now. The girl that stopped the encounter I can't speak for. I know that we didn't go on to anything. Such a short period of time in our lives. So many were hurt by it. I think I had givin' up on most of life by then and didn't care what people said or did. That was a huge part of who I became.

I know that we can't go back and hug that kid that we were and make it better. I know that we can't hold grudges against those who wronged us long ago. I know that when I see young kids nowadays, I feel for them. I want to tell them it's okay. I want to tell them that who you are in high school isn't who you are going to be. If you don't want to. You don't have to put so much pressure on yourself. Or others. Or feel it from above. I hope that I was nice to people. I hope that I did look out for others. I wish I did sleep with that old friend, but all of those things may have contributed to who I am today. That's someone who I like, who I rely on, and who others rely on as well. As the years go by you see your friends slip to the back of the room. You find out that you have to like yourself. The next time you see somebody with their pants drooping past their ass, and an over-sized tee shirt, remember they're just trying to be cool. And somebody has told them they're not. Or told them they're fat, or ugly, or stupid, or a slut. In the ten plus years after high school, this is what I learned.

Warm Winter Soup

I don't know about you, but the people that say they like winter are the same people that say, "it's not the heat, but the humidity" What is there to like about this time of year? The running your car for twenty minutes to warm up? The shoveling of the driveway? In this part of the world winter carries on and on. Brown snow until March, buried yard tools rotting away, industrial grade salt destroying everything. A sizable amount of "Canadians" claiming it's just a little snow, and driving at high speeds on the highway. Ontarians try and wear that badge on their shoulders as if it's as cool as being from New York. As if by stating that you love winter makes you more Canadian than others. You must like hockey! Okay I agree with that one, but I don't need to like the cold. And I don't.

Perhaps what compounds this hatred is the fact that it'll be months before it is over. Growing up on the west coast it was different. Sure it only snowed about once a year and we all took the day off, but it was overcast for much of the winter. Again Ontario residents have told me at length that they would prefer the bitter, ice, and wind chill cold, rather than the damp and grey. Liars! I wonder why people say that people from Toronto are full of shit? Yeah I'd rather don a full length snow suit over an umbrella. When my friends in Vancouver call me on January 10th and tell me they just played 18, and I'm destroying the environment by idling my car long enough to drive slowly to the store to buy more anti-freeze. You know what, I'll take the galoshes! I'll take letting my windshield wipers stay on for three months, instead of scraping.

The real crazy thing is that the past ten years I still haven't gotten used to it. I still think that it's not really that cold, and it is. That the snow isn't that bad, and it is. I see the sun out and assume it's nice, and it isn't. I hear that people from B.C. can't drive in the snow, and they're right. We don't have winter tires, or salt trucks. We don't drive in snow, we ride it! On mountains, not hills! Although, the weather on the left coast doesn't give me the one thing that I've learned to love about Toronto. There is one day here that doesn't have the same excitement as over there. The first nice day. That outshines, literally, most days out west. Not because it's nicer, or hotter, but because it's there. It sometimes happens for a week or so in March. You wake up and feel something different. We weren't sure if it would ever come and here it is. It's Blue Jays games with the roof off. Bike riding on Toronto Island. Jumping off the dock at Ben's cottage. You can't love them both. There are two seasons in Toronto, winter and construction. I'll take the latter.

And don't say Autumn. I'm looking at you Pat!

Last week it was minus eighteen, and today it's plus ten. My back yard looks upon a schoolyard and you know what I see. SOUP!