Archive for September, 2010

Blame your piano teacher!

“Whether it’s being force-fed beets by a stern teacher or mistaking a handful of briny olives for sweet, juicy grapes, a bad experience with a specific food item during childhood can turn a person off that food well into adulthood.  “It always comes down to some kind of negative experience,” says Orit Morse, clinical director at the New Realities Eating Disorders Recovery Centre in Thornhill, Ont. She adds that people with distaste for certain foods might not even recall what put them off in the first place.  “Even somebody who has an … onion aversion, if you dig real deep and really work with them, you’ll find out that there was a piano teacher who criticized them all the time for not doing their homework, and she was really mean – and she smelled of onions,” Ms. Morse says.”  (Sep 22, 2010 The Globe)

It’s a never ending source of amazement to me, how all of our adult “issues” are somehow related back to childhood “traumas” by the hordes of psychoanalysts and psychiatrists that make a great living convincing us it’s never our fault, it’s always somebody else’s.  Never mind that you are an adult and maybe it’s time to start taking charge of your own life.  No, far easier to sit in some quack’s office and let them fill your brain with hooey about how your current mental state is all the result of some nebulous childhood trauma.  So I guess my present inability to bear down and focus on the piles of cases on my desk is the sequela of me getting whacked with a belt a couple times in childhood eh?!?  I suppose I should give my Dad hell for messing up my life, but thankfully I have some common sense.  Grow up people!  Put your big boy pants on and get on with life!  Once you strip away all the layers of bullshit, it just comes down to a very simple concept.  After a certain age, let’s say 21 yrs, you are master of your own destiny.  It’s as simple as that!  Keep blaming your past and you’ll never enter the present let alone be able to deal with the future.  Of course, living in Canada (see Sept 20 blog entry) you may just be able to survive without ever having to grow up or face reality!


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I wonder at the pervasive and frankly insidious way Facebook has managed to insert itself into our consciousness as some kind of necessary medium for communication.  If you want to keep in touch with people you know, whatever happened to sending simple emails?  You can attach any photos or files you wish, and no stranger is privy to the information you share.  It doesn’t end up on some “wall” for all to see.  With Facebook I’m never sure what remains strictly within my circle of acquaintances, and what ends up in the wider world wide web or is it the internet, never sure which term is correct.  Facebook seemed like a good idea at first, but it is no longer simply a way to get in touch with old friends.  There is something more dangerous about it now.  It has become some kind of virus, ever expanding and making itself more important than it really is.  As far as being a business tool for propagating your business, I have not yet explored the efficacy of Facebook and its impact in actually helping me achieve my business objectives.  Frankly, I don’t know if I even want to explore this pathway on Facebook.   It seems to me that any organization that arbitrarily changes its operating principles and parameters is dangerous and should be avoided like the plague.  Yet, I am drawn to it like an alcoholic to his bottle.  What an incredible medium this Zuckerberg guy has designed!  I know I will tread carefully and gently on this Facebook highway.  Make sure you do the same.

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Canada supports alcoholism

Well folks, here’s some stuff that will surely make you shake your head in utter disgust.  And if it does not, then you should question your value system because it makes me puke!  This is excerpted from yesterday’s Sudbury Star:

The Ontario Court of Appeal has ruled two Sudbury men suffering from alcoholism should get disability benefits, rather than welfare payments.  The ruling, which came after a 10-year legal battle, means the men — one of whom has died — should get $1,042 a month from the province’s Ontario Disability Support Program instead of $585 a month from welfare.  For both men, the impact of their alcoholism was so severe that they satisfied the criteria for being disabled, wrote Ontario Court of Appeal Justice Janet Simmons in the unanimous decision. 

Did I just read that?!?!  So the questionable logic from the Court of Appeal provides that we should be giving alcoholics more money because otherwise it would be violating their human rights?!?!  Am I missing something here?  That being on welfare was a violation of these alcoholics’ human rights?  That they should instead be collecting twice as much money on disability so they could then go and spend more money on alcohol?  And then get further fucked up so we could all then support them while they recovered in hospital and got discharged and then started the cycle all over again.  Is it any wonder we have boatloads of refugees seeking asylum in this country?  Come to Canada, where you can drink yourself completely silly, get so twisted that we will accept your alcoholism is a disability and then pay you $1,042 per month so you can continue pickling your liver and blasting your brain cells because we believe everybody has a right to pursue their own path, even if it means your path is at the expense of hard working, law abiding Canadians who struggle to make ends meet.  We don’t give a rats ass about the honest people who drag their asses out of bed every morning and head to some completely mind numbing factory job.  We want to make you boozers happy so head over to the liquor store, grab a 40 pounder of Canadian Club (after all you should be drinking a patriotic liquor if you are going to binge yourself into a stupor) and keep at it until you are a bona fide alcoholic.  Then we shall ensure that you have enough money every month so you can feed your addiction.  I used to fly the red maple leaf with pride.  I delighted in presenting my passport at border controls.  With rulings like this it is an embarrassment.  My taxes fund a government that tolerates this kind of absurd interpretation of the Human Rights code!!!!  It is not a joke.  This is real folks.  Look it up.  God bless Canada.

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I’m sitting in my office, pounding the keyboard and looking out the window.  What was only last week a sun drenched view of my lake, is now a grey and dreary rainy day.  Temperature barely scratches 15C.  The lake and sky have morphed into a gray mass.  So here’s a summer photo that picks up my spirits.  This beach is not in the Caribbean but a scant 15 minute drive from the house.  If the sun comes back out tomorrow I think I’ll drive out there and enjoy a morning coffee with my dog and a newspaper.  Yeah….


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It’s one of those days.  Just can’t find the motivation to sit in my office and generate revenue.  Lots of family issues to deal with.  A brother who refuses to move on with his life.  A mother who is barely hanging on to hers.  A father caught between the two.  A son struggling with the new uncharted life populated by teens.  And a wife wrestling with change of life.  Kind of makes you want to crack a bottle of wine at 9:00am and lose yourself as well.  But, amidst all this chaos somebody still has to pay the bills. 
Why me?  Some days can be really shitty days and I think this is going to be one of those.

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Had the pleasure of participating in a double feature rock concert last night.  Kim Mitchell and Slash.  Kim Mitchell was the opening act, and he was delighted (as were we listeners) to share the stage with three of Slash’s band mates for a couple numbers.  Even Kim Mitchell was impressed with the way his rock veterans were able to synchronize with the new young guns, his comment after they had finished their “duet” to the effect of ”Well, I guess we’ll just pack up the truck and go home now!”  I can’t recall the name of the two tunes they did together, but it was indeed “awesome” to quote Kim’s reaction. 

After a very brief pause to refill the beers (reasonably priced at $5 and served with efficient cheerfulness by the on site caterer) Slash made his entrance to howls of support from the faithful rock audience.  What a show.  He blazed his way thru some mind blowing guitar licks from his new album and did not disappoint the numerous Guns ‘n Roses fans, as he (and his lead vocalist) revisited about four G’n R songs.  I think I got a second hand high from the pot smoke that wafted through the crowd.  Cops were out in force, but they wisely chose to ignore the law breakers, recognizing I suppose, that smoking marijuana is really not such a big deal any more. 

The Empire has crafted a marvellous venue in this parking lot, with Belleville’s monumental water tower in the background reminding all concert goers, and performers, that this place does indeed “kick ass”!!  Good for Marc Rashotte for taking the huge risk he did, in renovating the old theatre and turning the downtown parking lot into a pretty decent concert venue.  I mean, who woulda thunk that acts such as Slash, who used to fill 50,000 seat stadiums would venture into this small town to entertain the masses.  And you could tell the guys on stage were genuinely enjoying themselves.  Rock on Belleville!

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Thick as a brick

I had forgotten what a delight it is to read the album cover of “Thick as a brick” by Jethro Tull.  By Gerald “Little Milton” Bostock as well, cannot forget the lyricyst who penned the famous words to this marvellous musical exploration.  He wrote his poem in a literary competition, was awarded the prize and then a few days later had it rescinded because of it’s allegedly unwholesome attitude towards life, his God and Country.  He was even recommended for psychiatric treatment!  His error?  Here is the first paragraph of his masterful story.  Just way ahead of his time.  And before I forget, final note on the album cover, folds out like a newspaper and filled with humorous and revealing anectodes about life in Ian Anderson and his mates’ city of St. Cleve.  This LP must be  in your collection if you are at all serious about music.

“My words but a whisper – your deafness a SHOUT.  I may make you feel but I can’t make you think.  Your sperm’s in the gutter – your love’s in the sink.  So you ride yourselves over the fields and/you make all your animal deals and/ your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.  And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in/the tidal destruction/ the moral melee.  The elsatic retreat rings the close of play as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.  But your new shoes are worn a the heels and/your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.”

Wonder what happened to this prodigy?  You must read the full poem.  It is quite penetrating.

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