|
Tuesday, 11 October 2005
PERFEKT DAZE
We sometimes refer to a day as being perfect because the sun is shinning. Sometime at the end of an event such as a wedding or Christmas, we will refer to the day as being perfect. A trip to Disneyland, or a day at the beach, will often result in a perfect day. But I prefer the one’s that sneak up on you. The cold and rainy day spent in the basement watching movies, building giant unknown some-things with Mega Blocks, ordering a pizza and proclaiming it a pizza party. Setting-up the hotwheels race track and seeing which cars can survive the double looper or simply lying on the ground and getting trampled by dogs, cats and two legged animals as they run amuck. These days aren’t planned, they don’t require tickets, long drives, expensive souvenirs or over priced ice cream treats. They are perfectly simple and I think we need more of them.
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 12:26 PM EDT
Monday, 11 July 2005
6 months
Six months ago the world was very different. I was lamenting the financial struggles of a man trying to do right by his family, but falling a little short in the bringin home the bacon category. I was looking forward to a great Christmas, which was delivered by a 14 month old, who now delivers a kind of Christmas to me everyday. I had no idea about the roller coaster ride of the last six months was in the making, from the lowest of lows to a sense of relief (after three years of stress!), it has been an eventful 2005 – and promises to be more so as we speed off to 2006.
Let us begin. January my grandmother died. She was 96. No one was surprised, but I was devastated – let’s leave it at that. I went to see Motley Crue in February, had the basement finished. I got a piano. I bought a bike seat for the boy and we go on bike rides whenever the weather is good. I was able to pull some additional coin out of my employers in April, which is nice. Skinbone is right about me, I need to relax, and even with some added dollars I am way more paranoid about bills, mortgages and debts than he will ever be, but I would like to think I am getting better. I will have to ask Skinbone if he’s noticed a difference…
We went to Montreal in May and California in June, without a single aching in my heart. This was the first big vacation for wife, kid and bassterd – and yes we went to Disneyland. We hit the Big Apple in July, and realised my dream – my son’s first ball game was to be at the mecca.
I have already bought my son’s birthday gifts, and am well on the way for Christmas. Will have a second kid to spoil come November, and as this Bassterds family gets bigger and bigger, I have to say it is pretty damn cool.
Peace out you dirty pigs.
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 4:39 PM EDT
Thursday, 11 November 2004
Random thoughts
It's been a few weeks since I last posted, it seems like a lot has happened since then. So in chronological order here is what I have been up to (or what I remember anyways!).
October 25: I went to see Social Distortion. It's been 7 yrs since they had an album, probably a little longer since I last saw them. Their guitarist died of a brain aneurysm a few years back and Mike Ness had been doing some solo stuff. Mike looks old, gained a chunk of weight, but man oh man can he perform. It's great to see your heroes pull it off. What an amazing show.
October 31: My son dressed up like a Lion for his first trick or treating experience. The first costume we bought was too small (he made a pretty cute skunk I must say). Mom exchanged it for a ladybug outfit...I nixed that idea! So we picked up an elephant costume, that fit, but the nose hung over his face and he did not like that one bit. Thus, the Lion outfit it was. We went around the nay'hood and he loved it! Watching this little Lion running up and down the street was pretty funny. Good times, good candy, I gotta good kid.
November 3: That asshole won. Idiots.
November 11: that's today. Mom got a job. She works evenings at wal-mart. I am a failure. All we want is to raise our kid, at home, with his mom. It's crazy but the amount of grief my wife gets for that decision is unbelievable. She is the best care-giver he can get, and he is simply our favourite thing in the world. Mom is pretty amazing taking a low paying, low ego, low esteem building job so that she can spend her days with her son. I hate that she has to, but money makes this world grind to a halt. I'm looking, we don't need that much more, but it ain't easy. If you want your stuff at wal-mart rung in by a University Graduate, with oodles of publishing experience, fantastic management skills, and a great ability to manage projects - go see my wife humble herself for the sake our son. Boy does she ever love him.
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 4:32 PM EST
Monday, 25 October 2004
My Son is One
On October 20, 2004 my son turned one. We went to his favourite restaurant (The Manadarin) and he had a great time. On Sunday we had our family over (both blood related and not) to celebrate our boys first birthday. Once again the little guy had a great time.
In this lat year since he was born, my son has learned to roll over, sit-up, eat, drink from a cup, clap his hands, shake his head, look up and down, crawl, walk, stand up, run, climb stairs (up & down), say 'dada', point to birds & airplanes, he has seen the statue of liberty, went on a boat ride on Lake Ramsay, visited la belle province, visited both the bronx and bowmanville zoo, picked a pumpkin in a pumpkin patch, gone swimming, ran the bases, shot a basket, through a ball (left-handed too!), and many many more things. He has seen a lot, and learned a lot too.
I've seen a lot this year as well, and learned a few things as well. The best thing I learned was to smile.
Thanks son,
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 9:49 AM EDT
Tuesday, 14 September 2004
Theatre of the Parking Lot
Every morning I park my car in the Clarkson GO parking lot. This is a busy lot with each and every space being used, plus people parking in lane ways, on lawns, in clearly indicated no-parking zones and on gravel lots. GO transit decided to pave one of the gravel lots, this lot has at least 50 spaces. In the summer GO usage is down, and parking is widely available, it is only the truly lazy who need to be one or two rows closer to the tracks that end up parking in no park zones, the rest find a spot with ease. GO transit notified Clarkson users in June that they would be paving the gravel lot. Makes sense, take advantage of the lower volumes of July and August, and have a well marked lot ready for the fall. Construction began in late August. On September 6, GO train users volumes went back to normal, and the commuters faced their 10 month parking spot battle once again. Some expecting that parking would be less of a struggle were shocked to see that where once stood a gravel lot, now stood... a barricade! It appears that paving over gravel is quite the extensive project, and the `new' lot is not quite ready yet. When one looks to see what progress has been made over the last few weeks, it appears a lot of work has gone into building a barrier of re-enforced steel that will keep all out of the future lot. At this pace it appears that the lot will be completed by next June, just in time to accommodate the lighter traffic.
Yesterday I parked my car in a clearly marked parking spot. I simply pulled in between the two bright yellow lines, put my car in 1st gear, pulled the emergency break and turned off the ignition. I did not think this was any great feat or accomplishment, but as I sat in my car awaiting the next train my fellow commuters who struggled to perform the simple act of parking entertained me.
Our first performer was a woman who decided to go the wrong way down a one-way lane. She then pulled her car into an empty spot, this should be the end of the story. The Miss, who felt secure and safe in her oversized GMC Envoy, opened her door and noticed that she was over the yellow lines. This realization caused her to back out of the spot and re-align herself. Attempt one failed, as did two through five, it was the sixth attempt that seemed to satisfy her, but alas, upon getting out of the car and reviewing her parking job, she decided she was now too close to the car on the other side. Back in the car she went, but this time her readjustments were deemed sufficient after only two attempts. The Miss then squeezed out of her car, careful not to bang the van that just pulled in beside her.
It was the driver of this van who would perform the second act. This individual is a known parking mishap, as I have witnessed his pull-in, reverse, turn left, turn right, pull in again routine on several occasions. Much like his neighbour to the north of him, his original pull-in caused him some stress, thus he performed the now expected ritual. Upon completion of his `dance' he added a new step to his routine that I had not witnessed before. It seems he pulled to close to his neighbour to the south, so that he could not open his door to get out, but our parking lot champion is resourceful and decided to go through the side door of his van instead. Remarkable performance.
At this time I began my walk to the tracks and witnessed the following: An individual stopped his car in a lane way and simply left it, another individual bumped an illegally parked car as he was manoeuvring his way through the lot, another individual apparently failed to put their emergency break on and was now bumper to bumper with the car across the lane way in front of him and finally a women parked her car illegally, blocking traffic and then got upset with the other drivers who were honking at her to move her car out of the way. I could go on, but my train was pulling in.
Let me tell you about people jockeying for seats on a crowded GO train...
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 1:03 PM EDT
Thursday, 9 September 2004
A love story (of sorts)
It was pretty damn funny if you ask me. The guys name was John, he was dating this girl named Aquarius. You guessed it, but you're a little wrong. Yes, Aquarius was a hippie child vegetarian feminist, with a butch dike haircut, heavy girl, who wore overalls and birkenstocks. But she had a sense of humour and was pretty cool. John, well, he's a train wreck of a human being. Maybe 110 pounds, five foot four, some weird major wavy hairdo, sometimes a beard, took philosophy and liked to think of himself as a sensitive, tortured, self-pitying kind of guy, a great boyfriend for a hippie child vegetarian feminist, with a butch dike haircut, heavy girl, who wore overalls and Birkenstocks, but who wasn't a lesbo. He was the nice guy, who, if he didn't constantly tell you how nice he was, you wouldn't know it. When he asked "how are you" he really wanted to know. Not because he cared, but more so he could be that guy to "talk" to when you had a problem. His sensitivity would guide you through the rough times and all that crap. Girls liked him...as a friend. Some of us saw through it.
Here is where the funny stuff happens, funny because I was just an observer, not too attached to either John or Aquarius, and being a cold heartless ass that I am, was able to see through the possible hurt and only see how damn funny it was. I wasn't alone.
A group of us went to Montreal for the long-weekend (I think it was the May 2-4 - the unofficial name for Victoria Day, called that because it is usually around May 24th). Going to Montreal was a normal thing. My girlfriend had relatives there, we enjoyed the bars and waterfront and usually had a good time that consisted of drinking Laurentian on patios and buying 1 litre beer bottles from the nearest corner store. The weekend would be highlighted by a trip to either Dunn's, Schwartzes or Ben's for some smoked meat and cheesecake. On this particular trip we were meeting with three girls who were coming back from a camping trip out east. All three packed in a VW golf, with all that camping gear. Only Sarah, Simone and Jane could pull that off. Sarah was a road warrior who in three short years put over 400,000 kms on that car. The car would see trips to Thunder Bay all the way to Austin, Texas, and a million coffee shops in-between. Simone and Jane were more than willing passengers.
My girlfriend Sue, Mike, Chuck and I hopped into Sue's civic to make the very familiar trip. The usual ride to the belle province. The usual, "do we stop at the Big Apple?" - with the usual, "let's stop on the way home", knowing that we will be too tired to do so. Meanwhile, John, who has befriended Sarah, Simone & Jane (they all work together) has decided that he and Aquarius will also make the trip to Montreal as well. John has also recently professed his love for Simone, who, being sane has no desire to reciprocate. This un-returned love is a touchy subject between John and his girlfriend Aquarius. Yes, she knows, as John has told her. Something to do with honesty, exposing his emotional state yada yada yada. John is still trying to be the nice guy, even though he's a bigger ass than I am.
So my car and the love mobile filled with John and Aquarius arrives late Friday afternoon, Sarah, Jane and Simone are expected later. We grab our 1 litre beers and hang out in the hotel room. Aquarius and John join us.
John of course is a musician, but not a musician who plays music and has a good time rockin out and stuff. No he is a serious musician, that bleeds his emotions into each song and thinks that everyone else wants to be blessed with his songs of inner turmoil and suffering. Yeah, the goof brought his guitar.
So as we are all getting a good buzz from our beers and hotel air conditioning, John decided to pull out that guitar and play. Starts off okay, sticking to some blues numbers, and he's pretty damn good. But just as I begin to think that this guy isn't a complete nut job he decides to sing a song he wrote, a love song. The room is silent. Sue, Chuck and I look on in horror, as Aquarius sits calmly in her chair. As John croons his song about a love that would not be, about a love that is being denied him, about the wonders of this great woman, her beauty, her kindness, her extraordinary impact on his life, we all get a little bit more and more uncomfortable. Aquarius's exterior calmness is slowly turning - betraying the internal anger. It is obvious whom this song is about, and she ain't in the room right now. The song continues and I think to myself, the only thing that could make it worse is if he... oh my god... did I hear that correctly?...no way, no one in the world would do that...I can not believe it. I look around the room for some confirmation that my ears are not deceiving me. Mike is trying not to laugh, he must have heard that too. Sue has left the room in a hurry with her hand over mouth, my ears seem to be working fine. Chuck has absolutely no expression, nor has he ever. Aquarius is starring at John with a look of pure hatred, embarrassment and she is ready to kill. The chorus to John's emotionally wrought love song is sung over and over again. The chorus, and the presumed name of the song is a name. A girls name. The name of a girl who is not in the room. The chorus goes something like "and I love SIMONE, Simone, Simone, Simone". What a moron.
The room is silent at the end of the song (except for Mike's stifled laughs), and John and Aquarius leave the room. By Saturday they have left the hotel. Somewhere along the 401 between Montreal and Toronto Aquarius kicks John out her car. John makes it home by Monday.
That's my story about John.
As you can guess John and Aquarius broke up. John still leeched onto Sarah, Jane and Simone, and surprise! never did hook up with Simone. He soon fell in love with some other girl, who really understood him. Aquarius, who on the Tuesday after that long-weekend decided to never date men again, and is happily involved with a very famous centrefold who has a thing for vegetarian, butch dike haircut feminists.
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 4:35 PM EDT
Friday, 3 September 2004
God Bless America - they need all the help they can get.
I caught a bit of GW's speech at the RNC last night, but must admit it was making me too angry and I had to change the channel. The bullshit and lies that were streaming from this guys mouth was unbelievable.
Let's take a look at some of the garbage that came out his mouth: (The bold font reflects my comments)
"Our Nation's founding commitment is still our deepest commitment: In our world, and here at home, we will extend the frontiers of freedom." In line with the Manifest destiny, I am committing to a plan of world domination. Canada is next!
"To create jobs, my plan will encourage investment and expansion by restraining federal spending, reducing regulation, and making tax relief permanent. Lets give more tax cuts to the wealthy corps. To create jobs, we will make our country less dependent on foreign sources of energy. Because we will invade those energy producing countries and steal their oil.To create jobs, we will expand trade and level the playing field to sell American goods and services across the globe. But we will still maintain overpriced tariffs and dictate the prices of goods from 3rd world countries so that they will remain in absolute poverty. And we must protect small business owners and workers from the explosion of frivolous lawsuits that threaten jobs across America. By reducing the rights of workers and minorities"
"Another drag on our economy is the current tax code, which is a complicated mess" My little GW brain just don't understand all those numbers and things.
"So we have fought the terrorists across the earth -- not for pride, not for power, but because the lives of our citizens are at stake and they have oil. Our strategy is clear, lie about stuff then change the reasons we attacked them. We have tripled funding for homeland security and trained half a million first responders, because we are determined to protect our homeland and create a police state."
"Today, the government of a free Afghanistan is fighting terror or else!, Pakistan is capturing terrorist leaders or else! , Saudi Arabia is making raids and arrests for no apparent reason , Libya is dismantling its weapons programs that never existed in the first place, the army of a free Iraq is fighting for freedom they are Shite's and the are currently held up in Najaf - we will get'em though, and more than three-quarters of al-Qaida's key members and associates have been detained or killed along with over 15,000 innocent women and children in Iraq. We have led, many have been forced to joined, and America and the world are safer, unless you have dark skin."
"Our Nation is standing with the people of Afghanistan and Iraq with guns pointed in their backs, because when America gives its word, America must keep its word.then change it or deny it ever was said."
"our men and women in uniform are doing a superb job for America. Tonight I want to speak to all of them -- and to their families: You are involved in a struggle of historic proportion. Because of your service and sacrifice, we are defeating the terrorists where they live and plan, and making America safer. Because of you, women in Afghanistan are no longer shot in a sports stadium, we simply bomb them with our airplanes. Because of you, the people of Iraq no longer fear being executed and left in mass graves, since when our bombs hit their usually nothing left of the body to be buried.
"The people we have freed won't forget either. Not long ago, seven Iraqi men came to see me in the Oval Office. They had "X"s branded into their foreheads, and their right hands had been cut off, by Saddam Hussein's secret police, the sadistic punishment for imaginary crimes such as Weapons of Mass Destruction production. During our emotional visit one of the Iraqi men used his new prosthetic hand to slowly write out, in Arabic, a prayer for God to bless America. It said, God please bless America they way America has blessed us."
"They know that men and women with hope, and purpose, and dignity do not strap bombs on their bodies and kill the innocent, they do it from the comforts of the oval office instead."
God Bless America... cause they need it the most!
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 11:40 AM EDT
Monday, 30 August 2004
Corporate Hostages
There was a hostage situation in TO last week. There is the one you read about in the news, but for me the story went like this:
August 25, 2004:
I took an early train today because we were having a big `future of our company' meeting at 8:45 am. These things are always a mix between corporate propaganda, ass kissing and over explaining why we aren't doing so well. But despite all that doom and gloom there is a positive outlook, a re-invention of the wheel, a re-defining of the corporate structure, blah, blah, blah. Not something I would say I am looking forward too. I'm not one of those guys who sit attentively nodding and agreeing with everything the exec is spewing. I am not looking for work to be a spiritual experience. Pay me every other week and I will work. Thanks, can I get a raise?
Our jobs become albatrosses around our necks. Once we enter that employment field we pretty much give up our freedom. We are made to believe that we owe our whole existence to our employers. We are constantly told how grateful we should be for having a job. Then we buy a house, a car, have some kids and notice that our debt is pretty healthy and it becomes true. I am a hostage. If I negotiate correctly I will be released. My captors will hold me until I am 55 or 65 or maybe even later. Or maybe the stress of the captivity will kill me - a heart attack at 42. My paycheck is my captors gun being held to my head. I can change jobs, get more money elsewhere, buy a bugger house and car, but I'm still looking at a CEO wearing a baliclava telling me to keep my face down on the ground and not to make any sudden moves.
So these are thoughts going through my mind as I get off the train and start my two second walk to the office. But I find myself rudely interrupted by a Union Station security (?) guard, who informs me that the doors are locked and I need to go through the underground. Great, thousands of people piling into the station every two minutes and only one exit. Great, 24 hours in a day and they need to shoot some stupid scene for some stupid movie, or worse a Canadian TV show right now right here. Unbelievable. I'm ready to go berserk and lose it. I end up on Bay Street, cops are everywhere (real cops not fake NYPD movie cops). A taxi driver tries to make his way to the Royal York, only to be cursed out by a young cop who seems to have been run out of patience for taxi cab drivers. People are complaining that they need to get to their office, but the cops aren't letting anyone by - `hostage situation, I'm sorry but you cannot go down there'. What the F?
I make my way to work - make it time for the meeting. These things are always a mix between corporate propaganda, ass kissing and over explaining why we aren't doing so well. But despite all that doom and gloom there is a positive outlook, a re-invention of the wheel, a re-defining of the corporate structure, blah, blah, blah...
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 4:49 PM EDT
Wednesday, 25 August 2004
High hurdles.
We are all in mourning at the fall of Perdita. I truly feel bad for her. In May of 2003 I took my Floor Hockey team to the Provincial Championships. We had a good shot at winning it all, facing teams in our round robin that we have beaten in the past. The first game was supposed to be our toughest. We won with a great effort 5-2. The second game was a blowout, with us on top 7-0. As day one ended we were one win away from the gold medal game. Our third game was against a team we beat a month prior by a huge margin (9-2), so we were pretty stoked about our prospects. We lost the game 6-3, and were eliminated from the gold medal game. The team we would have been facing was a team that we had beaten 3 out of 4 times previously, they won the gold in a lopsided victory. I was bummed. In fact I was pretty damned distraught. I felt like I let down my players by not preparing them, by not making some tough decisions that would help our cause. I blamed myself and beat me self up about it for a long time. We began the next season about 4 months later, and came out of the gates firing on all cylinders. Despite the victory after victory, the tournament wins, the league wins and even the exhibition wins, that game, the critique's I heard after that game and the decisions I made prior to that game continued to haunt me. It wasn't until January 31, 2004 that I was finally able to put that loss behind me. We entered the Mississauga Invitational Floor Hockey tournament (which I began a few years ago and is now the largest tournament in Canada...not to brag...) undefeated in our first 11 games of the season. We won a smaller invitational in December, and after grabbing that victory the coach of the team we won against told me that he would need to bring some of his "B" players to our tournament in order to beat us. I shrugged it off. Now for those who do not know, Special Olympics seeds its teams based on ability - the highest being A, the lowest D, my team is a C team, and the tournament I run is for C teams. Winning is extremely important in SO, so much so that coaches will bench players who aren't good enough, or even cut them from their team. I always believed if you were cutting or benching players you weren't really winning. It is a philosophy that cost me (and I emphasize ME) a gold medal back in May, but it was a philosophy that I was committed too (despite strong temptations). So we won our first game against last years tournament champs 10-1. Our second game was against a weaker team, and we won 9-0. Our third game was against the team that knocked us out of the Provincials, we won 2-1 and advanced to the final. In the final we faced the team that were bringing the "B" players. They easily won their side and the match-up was set. They went with there 11 best players, not bringing, benching or replacing their other players in order to put in place a strong winning team. I went with 21 of my 22, as one of my guys didn't make it due to illness - he happened to be one of my best defenseman to boot. The opposing coach grabbed me before the game and playfully told me `you're going down'. I replied `we'll see'. We soon found ourselves trailing 2-0 going into the third period. With two shifts left to play one of my rookies floated a shot past their goalie to get us within one. In the last shift of the game I had my top goal scorer, who already had 6 goals on the day, ready and primed to get some more glory. As the last minute of the game approached I went to pull my goalie and had an extra attacker ready to go. I didn't need him as we tied it up with an awesome shot over the goalies stick side shoulder. A quick time out was called and I instructed the guys to kill the clock and get to OT. In OT we are allowed to throw our best 5, which I did. We pelted the net and were all over the opposing team, and finally, a shot from my top goal scorer is saved, but the rebound cuts across the crease where my captain is waiting for the easy goal. We went wild and I finally got over that loss in May of 2003. My team would go on to beat that gold medal winning team in our league championships later in the year, and when it was all over we had a 27-3-1 record. It was a great year, and the pain of our Provincial loss is long behind us...but I'm still looking to 2007...As for Perdita, if she has the guts and heart she will be back. Her interviews and post race composure gave us a glimpse at what she is made of. I expect we will be cheering her to gold in 2008.
But what does my Bastard Boy alter ego say:
All that training, all that hard work, sponsorship and government funding and she can't even jump one hurdle. Well I am pretty sure that without any training, any sponsorship or governement funding I could have fallen flat on my face too...and I would have taken out not only the Russian, but the other Canadian chick too.
But then again I am a Bastard...
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 12:14 PM EDT
Tuesday, 24 August 2004
Bronze Blenders
Eight years. Today the wife and I celebrate eight years of marriage. According to statistics we are in pretty good shape to make it for the long haul. Some recent stats indicate that after five years of marriage the divorce rate drops significantly. Well three years ago I was just a few months into a new `better' job, the wife was working and we was on `easy street'. No reason for drama there. Now I'm looking to find yet another `better' job (after being informed that their really isn't any future for me at my current employer), the wife is about to run out of maternity leave and has no job to go back to and I am up to my eyeballs in debt!
They say that most marriages break down because of fights about money.
We don't seem to fight about it too much, we are too busy crying about it instead... poverty loves company...and kraft dinner (our Anniversary feast for this evening).
Apparently the eighth anniversary is the Bronze/Appliances Anniversary. I wonder how my wife would react if I got her a bronzed blender? What are the divorce stats on that?
I still think I have a good shot at making it to the Pottery Anniversary...but I will have to get some more stats to verify.
Bastard Out
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 1:27 PM EDT
Newer | Latest | Older
|
