One of my clients really loves their employees – and it shows. Every month they do something fun to keep corporate moral up. Sometimes it is a potluck lunch, sometimes they have a catered lunch, and coming next month a formal dinner at a posh exclusive executive club.
Next month, they are holding their annual winterlude. A fancy suit and tie affair, complete with fancy food, fancy dancing and prize give-a-ways – last year they gave someone a 42-inch plasma TV!
I’m only a contractor, but I’ve been invited – as I often am – to my client’s corporate functions. And I’m going – hey, who knows, maybe this year they’ll give away an even bigger LCD TV.
Although I usually have a great time at these corporate functions, I also go because it is a corporate function. It is important to show up, to network with the client and others in the company. You never know when you may need to call on them for a resource, or they to call on you for more work. It is a bit of corporate schmoozing, but it is done lightly and in fun.
Where else can you have a couple of drinks with the powers-that-be and still be respected in the morning? So long as it is just a couple of drinks – drinking to the point of getting drunk, or even slightly buzzed isn’t cool. You want to have your wits about you around your colleagues.
Interesting though, I was chatting with others at this company and many just aren’t interested in going.
“Oh, I went the second-year I was here,” said one colleague from this company. “I haven’t gone since and I’ve been here six-years.”
“My husband says he was bored last year, but he still wants to go this year,” tells me another.
“I never go to those things – I like to keep my work life separate from my home life,” says another.
As a consultant, I see all sorts of employers. Most don’t do anything for their staff. So, when I see an employer that actually cares enough about their employees to go out of their way and do something nice – I think the employees should go.
It’s like that saying goes – you don’t know what you’re missing until it is gone. As these employees move to other companies in their careers, they’ll learn.
They had it good.
Sure, it is goofy and might even be silly at times to get into the corporate fun spirit. May even take you away from something else you want to do.
At least you’re at a company that does these things for you. Most companies don’t do squat. Most companies see their employees as slave labor. They get you for the lowest possible price you’re willing to accept in terms of salary, give you the least amount of time off (usually the maximum they are required to by law) and often don’t give you any decent benefits.
Yes, there is the whole schmoozing up and networking aspect to the corporate function. But that doesn’t last all night. Usually only over cocktails and at the start of the event -- the rest of the event is yours to enjoy.
Besides, it is fun watching the executives in a company relax. So often they are tight-asses at the office, always towing the corporate line. You might even get to know your boss, or a company vice-president or president better.
So, next time your employer tosses you a shin-dig – GO!
You’ll be glad you did, and you’ll even have some fun.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Where’d the Weather Network Go?
As many of you know, I have digital cable with the movies package. I have over 500-channels to choose from.
Last month, I got a notice with my cable bill telling me my cable provider was re-structuring channel line-ups. They moved two channels off of basic cable and onto the digital cable line-up to make room for two other channels.
Fine – I’d still get all the same channels, because I have digital cable.
Though it would have been nice if my cable provider had told me the listing of the new channels. When you get used to finding say, channel WBKW on channel 176 and it moves to channel 331 – it would have been nice to know that. I missed the first 10-minutes of Jeopardy because of that!
The more channels you have, the longer it takes to find things when they aren’t where they used to be.
It is cool to be able to see the television listings for a whole week – I have an interactive program guide with my digital cable, which does just that.
But I learned something else recently about digital programming. As more and more of us get it, it will eventually cost us all more and more money.
Sure, there are advantages to the digital cable over regular analogue cable. I have better picture and sound quality, as it is a pure digital signal. I get Dolby Surround Sound, and I have access to time shifting – so I never miss my favorite shows.
Here comes the “but” that I didn’t know until today. According to the regulations, once 85 percent of a cable company’s customers have digital cable, the cable company is allowed to allocate their channel line-ups as they see fit, without notifying the stations or its subscribers.
This way, the regulators ensure everyone has access to some basic channels: CBC, CTV, GlobalTV, the Weather Network and a few others which have always been regulated onto the basic cable stream.
While watching the Weather Network today, they ran a quick notice about how my local cable provider has put in a request to move it to the digital stream, as they have reached the 85 percent or greater digital subscriber base.
That doesn’t affect me yet – as I have digital cable, I’d still get the Weather Network. However, once on the digital stream, the cable company could easily turn around and say that it is a specialty channel, and part of a different grouping of channels that I don’t subscribe too. Meaning, I’d have to pay extra to see my local forecasts on TV.
I believe channels like the Weather Network serve a fundamental community service. During severe storms in all seasons, I’m tuning into the Weather Network to see what is going on. I often turn on the Weather Network before leaving for the day, to ensure I am dressed for the weather.
Placing the Weather Network on higher tier cable packages prevents everyone from accessing important information that really affects them. And it is a plain and simple money grab attempt by the cable operators.
Cable companies are in business to make money – all companies are. But to take away a fundamental community service in the guise of better programming, when it is nothing more than a cash grab is wrong.
I never thought too much when the government regulated that the aboriginal television station be mandated to basic cable. Yeah, we white men took their land, raped their wives, and gave them smallbox and other diseases. That was long before you, me, our parents and our grandparents were even born.
Big deal.
But the Weather Network affects us all. Weather really does impact our lives daily here in Canada. In the summer we have extreme heat alerts and in the winter extreme cold alerts.
We probably live in the worst place weather-wise, because we go from one extreme to another.
Which is why everyone should have access to the Weather Network – even if you don’t have digital cable.
You can help out – tell the federal government what you think of their regulations and how it affects the Weather Network. Check out this website: http://support.theweathernetwork.com/
Take a stand against the big cable operators and their money grab.
Last month, I got a notice with my cable bill telling me my cable provider was re-structuring channel line-ups. They moved two channels off of basic cable and onto the digital cable line-up to make room for two other channels.
Fine – I’d still get all the same channels, because I have digital cable.
Though it would have been nice if my cable provider had told me the listing of the new channels. When you get used to finding say, channel WBKW on channel 176 and it moves to channel 331 – it would have been nice to know that. I missed the first 10-minutes of Jeopardy because of that!
The more channels you have, the longer it takes to find things when they aren’t where they used to be.
It is cool to be able to see the television listings for a whole week – I have an interactive program guide with my digital cable, which does just that.
But I learned something else recently about digital programming. As more and more of us get it, it will eventually cost us all more and more money.
Sure, there are advantages to the digital cable over regular analogue cable. I have better picture and sound quality, as it is a pure digital signal. I get Dolby Surround Sound, and I have access to time shifting – so I never miss my favorite shows.
Here comes the “but” that I didn’t know until today. According to the regulations, once 85 percent of a cable company’s customers have digital cable, the cable company is allowed to allocate their channel line-ups as they see fit, without notifying the stations or its subscribers.
This way, the regulators ensure everyone has access to some basic channels: CBC, CTV, GlobalTV, the Weather Network and a few others which have always been regulated onto the basic cable stream.
While watching the Weather Network today, they ran a quick notice about how my local cable provider has put in a request to move it to the digital stream, as they have reached the 85 percent or greater digital subscriber base.
That doesn’t affect me yet – as I have digital cable, I’d still get the Weather Network. However, once on the digital stream, the cable company could easily turn around and say that it is a specialty channel, and part of a different grouping of channels that I don’t subscribe too. Meaning, I’d have to pay extra to see my local forecasts on TV.
I believe channels like the Weather Network serve a fundamental community service. During severe storms in all seasons, I’m tuning into the Weather Network to see what is going on. I often turn on the Weather Network before leaving for the day, to ensure I am dressed for the weather.
Placing the Weather Network on higher tier cable packages prevents everyone from accessing important information that really affects them. And it is a plain and simple money grab attempt by the cable operators.
Cable companies are in business to make money – all companies are. But to take away a fundamental community service in the guise of better programming, when it is nothing more than a cash grab is wrong.
I never thought too much when the government regulated that the aboriginal television station be mandated to basic cable. Yeah, we white men took their land, raped their wives, and gave them smallbox and other diseases. That was long before you, me, our parents and our grandparents were even born.
Big deal.
But the Weather Network affects us all. Weather really does impact our lives daily here in Canada. In the summer we have extreme heat alerts and in the winter extreme cold alerts.
We probably live in the worst place weather-wise, because we go from one extreme to another.
Which is why everyone should have access to the Weather Network – even if you don’t have digital cable.
You can help out – tell the federal government what you think of their regulations and how it affects the Weather Network. Check out this website: http://support.theweathernetwork.com/
Take a stand against the big cable operators and their money grab.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Workout Rush
When I tell people I workout for about two-hours, three-times a week – sometimes even four times a week – they look at me as if I were nuts.
“Oh I couldn’t do that,” said one co-worker.
“I’d die if I did that,” tells me another.
Well, I do, do that, and I’m not dead. I love a good workout. I think there is a certain addiction to going to the gym and feeling the sweat bead off.
I love every aspect of my workout routines – from the warm-up, to the sauna and everything in between. Sure, there is some pain here and there – but it is the right kind of pain.
A workout “burn” is the sensation of muscle fibers breaking down. In order to build bigger muscles – or even to just maintain current ones – you have to break down the old muscle fiber. New muscle fiber is always required – that’s how you keep the muscles you have, and if you really push it, build new ones.
There’s some truth in the saying “if you don’t use it, you’ll lose it.” If you don’t use your muscles enough, your muscle fiber doesn’t break down, and congeals and turns to fat.
So, a “burning” sensation is good pain. It drives me and makes me work harder at the gym, as I know that I’m doing something good for my muscles.
I also get into the whole gym culture – I think of it as a day at the spa. First I go in, and I’m warmly greeted by the receptionist as I swipe my access toggle. Then, I get changed into my workout kit – usually gym shorts, a t-shirt, white socks and running shoes.
Now I’m off to hit the exercise bike to warm-up – whoops wait a sec! Got to stop off at the water fountain and fill up my water bottle.
I love this!
After a good warm-up, I do a combo core muscle workout while stretching out all my major muscle groups. This saves time, as I do the stretches while working out, but it also keeps my heart rate up at a workout warm-up level. It is dangerous to workout cold.
Core muscles include abs, obliques (where those love handles appear) and lower and mid-back muscles. This muscle group is called the “core” muscle group, as these are the muscles that support your body’s framework for – well for pretty much everything.
Now I’m off to do some resistance training in the weight rooms. I usually focus on three muscle groups per workout – two upper body and one lower body. Today I did biceps and triceps, and thighs (inner and outer).
It is important to work different muscle groups on different days, so that you actually re-build that muscle fiber.
Remember that “burn” feeling is the feeling of muscle fiber being braking down. The breakdown of muscle fiber occurs while you are using your muscles. The re-placement of new muscle fiber takes place over a day or two, as new muscle fiber develops when those muscles aren’t in as heavy a demand pattern.
So, if you constantly over-exhaust the same muscle groups, all you’re doing is breaking down muscle fibers – you aren’t giving your body enough recuperative time to develop new muscle fibers.
The next time I workout, probably in a day or two, I’ll focus on another series of muscle groups. Most likely chest, shoulders and calves (two upper body groups and one lower body group again).
After I burn iron in the weight rooms – it is time to grab some more water and do an hour on the cardio machines burning fat.
I usually do an hour straight on one machine – say a treadmill, an elliptical machine, or one of the other cardio machines. Sometimes, if I have the time, I’ll do two machines, splitting the hour in half on each machine (30-minutes per machine).
I’m still loving it. Yes, I can still feel my muscles burning from the intense workout, but now at least, I have some TV to watch while running on a treadmill, or pumping my legs and arms on an elliptical machine.
It gets harder sometimes, often around the 45-minute mark. But hey, that means I only have 15-minutes left so I really push it until the machine chimes out “Workout Complete – Cooling Down.”
Now, I do some relaxing stretches, stretching out all the muscle groups all over again. Got to make sure I’m not stiff in any one area, or I’ll really feel it in the morning.
Time for the spa – I get into my bathing suit, grab a towel, fill-up my water bottle and hit the sauna. Ahhhhhh – f*cking paradise.
A good 10-minutes in the sauna helps open up your skin’s pores – kind of like a bath for your skin inside and out. It really does wonders for your skin – prevents and reduces the effects of aging, and makes my skin all soft.
Stretching in the sauna is a great thing too – the heat relaxes muscles allowing them more mobility and elasticity.
Sometimes I’ll take a dive into the hot tub. Hot tubs are also great for your pores, but even better for your muscles. The heat and the water jets really workout kinks in tight muscles.
I finish my whole workout with a nice, lazy hot shower, and I’m all pumped from the adrenalin cursing through my veins. I feel like doing it all over again – and I will – in a couple of days.
“Oh I couldn’t do that,” said one co-worker.
“I’d die if I did that,” tells me another.
Well, I do, do that, and I’m not dead. I love a good workout. I think there is a certain addiction to going to the gym and feeling the sweat bead off.
I love every aspect of my workout routines – from the warm-up, to the sauna and everything in between. Sure, there is some pain here and there – but it is the right kind of pain.
A workout “burn” is the sensation of muscle fibers breaking down. In order to build bigger muscles – or even to just maintain current ones – you have to break down the old muscle fiber. New muscle fiber is always required – that’s how you keep the muscles you have, and if you really push it, build new ones.
There’s some truth in the saying “if you don’t use it, you’ll lose it.” If you don’t use your muscles enough, your muscle fiber doesn’t break down, and congeals and turns to fat.
So, a “burning” sensation is good pain. It drives me and makes me work harder at the gym, as I know that I’m doing something good for my muscles.
I also get into the whole gym culture – I think of it as a day at the spa. First I go in, and I’m warmly greeted by the receptionist as I swipe my access toggle. Then, I get changed into my workout kit – usually gym shorts, a t-shirt, white socks and running shoes.
Now I’m off to hit the exercise bike to warm-up – whoops wait a sec! Got to stop off at the water fountain and fill up my water bottle.
I love this!
After a good warm-up, I do a combo core muscle workout while stretching out all my major muscle groups. This saves time, as I do the stretches while working out, but it also keeps my heart rate up at a workout warm-up level. It is dangerous to workout cold.
Core muscles include abs, obliques (where those love handles appear) and lower and mid-back muscles. This muscle group is called the “core” muscle group, as these are the muscles that support your body’s framework for – well for pretty much everything.
Now I’m off to do some resistance training in the weight rooms. I usually focus on three muscle groups per workout – two upper body and one lower body. Today I did biceps and triceps, and thighs (inner and outer).
It is important to work different muscle groups on different days, so that you actually re-build that muscle fiber.
Remember that “burn” feeling is the feeling of muscle fiber being braking down. The breakdown of muscle fiber occurs while you are using your muscles. The re-placement of new muscle fiber takes place over a day or two, as new muscle fiber develops when those muscles aren’t in as heavy a demand pattern.
So, if you constantly over-exhaust the same muscle groups, all you’re doing is breaking down muscle fibers – you aren’t giving your body enough recuperative time to develop new muscle fibers.
The next time I workout, probably in a day or two, I’ll focus on another series of muscle groups. Most likely chest, shoulders and calves (two upper body groups and one lower body group again).
After I burn iron in the weight rooms – it is time to grab some more water and do an hour on the cardio machines burning fat.
I usually do an hour straight on one machine – say a treadmill, an elliptical machine, or one of the other cardio machines. Sometimes, if I have the time, I’ll do two machines, splitting the hour in half on each machine (30-minutes per machine).
I’m still loving it. Yes, I can still feel my muscles burning from the intense workout, but now at least, I have some TV to watch while running on a treadmill, or pumping my legs and arms on an elliptical machine.
It gets harder sometimes, often around the 45-minute mark. But hey, that means I only have 15-minutes left so I really push it until the machine chimes out “Workout Complete – Cooling Down.”
Now, I do some relaxing stretches, stretching out all the muscle groups all over again. Got to make sure I’m not stiff in any one area, or I’ll really feel it in the morning.
Time for the spa – I get into my bathing suit, grab a towel, fill-up my water bottle and hit the sauna. Ahhhhhh – f*cking paradise.
A good 10-minutes in the sauna helps open up your skin’s pores – kind of like a bath for your skin inside and out. It really does wonders for your skin – prevents and reduces the effects of aging, and makes my skin all soft.
Stretching in the sauna is a great thing too – the heat relaxes muscles allowing them more mobility and elasticity.
Sometimes I’ll take a dive into the hot tub. Hot tubs are also great for your pores, but even better for your muscles. The heat and the water jets really workout kinks in tight muscles.
I finish my whole workout with a nice, lazy hot shower, and I’m all pumped from the adrenalin cursing through my veins. I feel like doing it all over again – and I will – in a couple of days.
Monday, February 12, 2007
The Self-Healing Power of Creativity
Self-help books fill bookstores shelves and people buy ‘em like crazy. But there is nothing more healing to yourself, than creativity.
I’m a very creative person – I’m oozing creativity right now.
Whoops! Sorry – let me get you a towel.
Before, during and after I invent something – be it a new fangled way of saying something, a stunning layout, an interactive website, or even just hanging pictures up in my home – I’m always buzzing with energy and satisfaction.
Being creative – for me at least – really makes me feel amazing.
It is even better than chicken soup, and you don’t burn your tongue or nothing!
I think the solution to our own problems doesn’t lie in the pages of some self-help book – it lies within our own inventive minds.
Some people bake to release creative juices. Others paint, dance, build something out of Lego blocks – whatever. Do whatever you can do to be creative. You’ll feel better quickly, and there are no side effects.
American television stations are full of ads about ‘miracle drugs.’ While watching the American channels, I see ad after ad of drugs for everything from painkillers, headache roll-on stoppers, sleeping pills, waking pills, weight loss pills, sexual function – I’m surprised they don’t have a pill that will clean my apartment and pay my bills.
Medications do amazing things – they cure illness, prevent illness, and relieve pain. But they also often have many bad after-affects. Things like blurred vision, slurred speech, constipation, diarrhea, drowsiness, heart attacks, liver failure, kidney failure, trouble breathing, trouble sleeping, trouble waking – drugs are nothing but trouble.
Being creative has no ill side-affects. I’ve never heard of anyone being unable to see after cooking a great meal. No one has ever died because they had a great idea.
Sure Jordan – easy for you to say, you’re a ‘riter-type of creative person.
Yes I am – but that doesn’t mean you have to be able to string sentences together to be creative. Mathematicians are creative, just in a different way.
There’s the whole left-brain/right-brain theory. Says one side of our brains is for logical problem solving, while the other is our cognitive creative ability to imagine and invent. According to this theory, although we all have a little of both of the logical and the creative side, one side is more dominant than the other.
This is why some of us are great at math, while some of us suck at math.
I suck when it comes to math. Number crunching isn’t my thing – I’m calculator dependent even for the most basic of math problems.
But I’m an exceptional communicator. I can invent ideas instantly.
So, I’m more of the creative-side of the brain, than the logical side.
But this doesn’t mean those good in math and other like-minded logical-brain-sided people can’t be creative.
Mathematicians are creative – just in a different way. Oh wait – I believe I said that already.
Exactly.
We all have it within ourselves to be creative, just in different ways.
So go out there and be creative, in your own way.
I’m a very creative person – I’m oozing creativity right now.
Whoops! Sorry – let me get you a towel.
Before, during and after I invent something – be it a new fangled way of saying something, a stunning layout, an interactive website, or even just hanging pictures up in my home – I’m always buzzing with energy and satisfaction.
Being creative – for me at least – really makes me feel amazing.
It is even better than chicken soup, and you don’t burn your tongue or nothing!
I think the solution to our own problems doesn’t lie in the pages of some self-help book – it lies within our own inventive minds.
Some people bake to release creative juices. Others paint, dance, build something out of Lego blocks – whatever. Do whatever you can do to be creative. You’ll feel better quickly, and there are no side effects.
American television stations are full of ads about ‘miracle drugs.’ While watching the American channels, I see ad after ad of drugs for everything from painkillers, headache roll-on stoppers, sleeping pills, waking pills, weight loss pills, sexual function – I’m surprised they don’t have a pill that will clean my apartment and pay my bills.
Medications do amazing things – they cure illness, prevent illness, and relieve pain. But they also often have many bad after-affects. Things like blurred vision, slurred speech, constipation, diarrhea, drowsiness, heart attacks, liver failure, kidney failure, trouble breathing, trouble sleeping, trouble waking – drugs are nothing but trouble.
Being creative has no ill side-affects. I’ve never heard of anyone being unable to see after cooking a great meal. No one has ever died because they had a great idea.
Sure Jordan – easy for you to say, you’re a ‘riter-type of creative person.
Yes I am – but that doesn’t mean you have to be able to string sentences together to be creative. Mathematicians are creative, just in a different way.
There’s the whole left-brain/right-brain theory. Says one side of our brains is for logical problem solving, while the other is our cognitive creative ability to imagine and invent. According to this theory, although we all have a little of both of the logical and the creative side, one side is more dominant than the other.
This is why some of us are great at math, while some of us suck at math.
I suck when it comes to math. Number crunching isn’t my thing – I’m calculator dependent even for the most basic of math problems.
But I’m an exceptional communicator. I can invent ideas instantly.
So, I’m more of the creative-side of the brain, than the logical side.
But this doesn’t mean those good in math and other like-minded logical-brain-sided people can’t be creative.
Mathematicians are creative – just in a different way. Oh wait – I believe I said that already.
Exactly.
We all have it within ourselves to be creative, just in different ways.
So go out there and be creative, in your own way.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
The Great Racial Divide
In the United States, it is a well known fact that there is more racism and discrimination than up here in Canada. At least, that’s what I used to think.
On television shows in the States, you can see the great divides between races. Reality dating shows like Blind Date always match black men with black women (unless one of the two specifically says they like another specific racial group. President George W. Bush even let slip his own racists view, when he commented about how all Hispanics are in the States illegally. He later claimed his comments were taken out of context. Yeah, right.
That’s America – we’re Canada – we openly welcome people from other cultures. Don’t we?
At my most recent client-site, I’ve been having some pretty busy days. So busy, I’ve taken to wolfing down my lunch in the company’s lunchroom. Often, I’m rushing from one meeting to another, so I have lunch at different times of the day.
I noticed something odd – at all the different times I have chosen to eat, there have been different racial groups present, minus all the other racial groups in the company.
At 12:30pm, the whole lunchroom (sans moi) was South-East Asian/Indian/Muslim. The next day, when I went to lunch around 1:00pm, the whole lunchroom was Chinese. Then the following day, I went to lunch late, around 3:00pm and the whole lunchroom was Black (sorry – African-American).
If this were a fictitious attempt at office humor, it would be marginally funny. But it isn’t fictitious or attempted – it is real – and really sad.
It says something about our current Canadian values – or rather – it says something very sad about the people we’re letting into our country.
It appears all the cultures that we Canadians warmly welcome into our proud and free land just don’t want to mix and mingle with anyone else in this once great land – unless they look like them.
This isn’t just a language barrier, or even a lack of education barrier. This is a racist barrier that those from other cultures bring with them to our once great land.
Hey, if I went to some other country – say Germany – I wouldn’t isolate myself from everyone else and just talk to all the Canadians in the room. I’d be mixing it up with the Germans, and any others I happened upon.
So, why are the Indians, Chinese, Black – insert any foreign national here – only dealing with others of their culture here?
Do we really want to be just like the Americans, where even their president holds racist values – do we want a prime minister of the same shortcomings?
What value do immigrants bring here, if they refuse to mix with us non-whatever the hell they are?
How comfortable can we be in our own country, knowing that there are places you just can’t go, because they will ignore you – or worse – treat you like dirt?
Where the hell is our federal government when you need ‘em? Why don’t they take a stand on this and force people to either participate in Canadian values, or get the hell out of my country?
Oh ya – they are pussies.
Or, they are them.
One day we’ll have a prime minister named Amed Khalid Chin. And I bet he won’t speak to you unless you happen to be of his native land – which isn’t Canada.
Sad.
America – here we come.
On television shows in the States, you can see the great divides between races. Reality dating shows like Blind Date always match black men with black women (unless one of the two specifically says they like another specific racial group. President George W. Bush even let slip his own racists view, when he commented about how all Hispanics are in the States illegally. He later claimed his comments were taken out of context. Yeah, right.
That’s America – we’re Canada – we openly welcome people from other cultures. Don’t we?
At my most recent client-site, I’ve been having some pretty busy days. So busy, I’ve taken to wolfing down my lunch in the company’s lunchroom. Often, I’m rushing from one meeting to another, so I have lunch at different times of the day.
I noticed something odd – at all the different times I have chosen to eat, there have been different racial groups present, minus all the other racial groups in the company.
At 12:30pm, the whole lunchroom (sans moi) was South-East Asian/Indian/Muslim. The next day, when I went to lunch around 1:00pm, the whole lunchroom was Chinese. Then the following day, I went to lunch late, around 3:00pm and the whole lunchroom was Black (sorry – African-American).
If this were a fictitious attempt at office humor, it would be marginally funny. But it isn’t fictitious or attempted – it is real – and really sad.
It says something about our current Canadian values – or rather – it says something very sad about the people we’re letting into our country.
It appears all the cultures that we Canadians warmly welcome into our proud and free land just don’t want to mix and mingle with anyone else in this once great land – unless they look like them.
This isn’t just a language barrier, or even a lack of education barrier. This is a racist barrier that those from other cultures bring with them to our once great land.
Hey, if I went to some other country – say Germany – I wouldn’t isolate myself from everyone else and just talk to all the Canadians in the room. I’d be mixing it up with the Germans, and any others I happened upon.
So, why are the Indians, Chinese, Black – insert any foreign national here – only dealing with others of their culture here?
Do we really want to be just like the Americans, where even their president holds racist values – do we want a prime minister of the same shortcomings?
What value do immigrants bring here, if they refuse to mix with us non-whatever the hell they are?
How comfortable can we be in our own country, knowing that there are places you just can’t go, because they will ignore you – or worse – treat you like dirt?
Where the hell is our federal government when you need ‘em? Why don’t they take a stand on this and force people to either participate in Canadian values, or get the hell out of my country?
Oh ya – they are pussies.
Or, they are them.
One day we’ll have a prime minister named Amed Khalid Chin. And I bet he won’t speak to you unless you happen to be of his native land – which isn’t Canada.
Sad.
America – here we come.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Brrrrrrr – It’s a Westerly Wind
Usually my high-rise apartment is boiling hot. The building acts like a chimney and all the heat rises up the building to the upper floors. So my lofty high-level apartment is an oven at best.
I even occasionally run the air conditioners in winter. It really gets that hot up here.
But not in the latest cold snap. The winds are blowing from the west and that means I’m actually getting quite the breeze through my windows. Usually the wind is blowing from some other direction – so I get no ventilation.
Figures – we’re in one of the coldest months of the year, breaking record low temperatures even – and the wind has to blow into my pad.
So, while the average temperature of my apartment hovers around the 25-30C mark, these days its way down around 15-20C.
It is actually quite cool here – which is rare.
Now that I have experienced the heat and the frigid cold, I actually like it cold better. In cold temperatures, I can just add another layer of clothing to keep warm. When it is hot –there was nothing I could do. Once you take off all your clothes, there isn’t much else you can take off. That’s why I got air conditioning – the neighbors kept complaining about my nudist colony. Well, most of the neighbors, except for that cougar above me. But that’s another story. . .
Cold is hot.
Though now it is so cold, I wish it were hot out so I could turn on the A/C. Even with long johns and a sweater on, I can still feel the cold.
This all makes me wonder though – why in our high-tech society can’t my property management get the temperatures perfect every time around? You’d figure it is in their best interest to keep the temperatures not too hot, nor too cold.
When I run my A/C, I’m using up electricity. I don’t pay for electricity – so it’s no skin off my back. However, the property management firm does – so it costs them money. Same goes for the cold – if I were to use a space heater, that too costs them money.
I know my building is old, but it is one of the best maintained buildings in the city. I ought to know, I shopped around like crazy before moving in here. Most apartment buildings in this city fall into one of two extremes – either the property management firm doesn’t give a rat’s ass and lets everything go to hell, or – as in my building – they take exceptionally good care of the building.
When I was looking for a new apartment, I remember walking through one with the property manager. He told me they just painted the walls. Though obviously they hadn’t – I could see paint chips the size of old rusty Buicks peeling off the walls, and there were water marks on the ceilings (indicating pipe problems).
I went through another apartment building and the place was a dive – paint peeling, scratches on the hardwood floors, exposed wires and pipes. I asked if they were going to fix it up before the next tenant moved in. Nope. Nadda. We don’t do that. But if you want to, hey go ahead – they told me. Yeah, right – I’ll get right on that. NOT!
When I moved into my place, they repainted the all the walls, re-did all the floors, sanitized the kitchen and bathroom and even sprayed for creepy crawlies – all before I moved in. Though the place didn’t need most of that stuff – it was already in top shape. Here, they just do that as standard procedure before anyone moves in.
And they don’t stop there – they actually vacuum and wash down the hallways twice per week, and whenever I have a problem, they are right up to fix it.
So, why can’t they get my apartment to stay the right temperature?
Oh well – I’ve managed to improvise.
Where are my matches?
I even occasionally run the air conditioners in winter. It really gets that hot up here.
But not in the latest cold snap. The winds are blowing from the west and that means I’m actually getting quite the breeze through my windows. Usually the wind is blowing from some other direction – so I get no ventilation.
Figures – we’re in one of the coldest months of the year, breaking record low temperatures even – and the wind has to blow into my pad.
So, while the average temperature of my apartment hovers around the 25-30C mark, these days its way down around 15-20C.
It is actually quite cool here – which is rare.
Now that I have experienced the heat and the frigid cold, I actually like it cold better. In cold temperatures, I can just add another layer of clothing to keep warm. When it is hot –there was nothing I could do. Once you take off all your clothes, there isn’t much else you can take off. That’s why I got air conditioning – the neighbors kept complaining about my nudist colony. Well, most of the neighbors, except for that cougar above me. But that’s another story. . .
Cold is hot.
Though now it is so cold, I wish it were hot out so I could turn on the A/C. Even with long johns and a sweater on, I can still feel the cold.
This all makes me wonder though – why in our high-tech society can’t my property management get the temperatures perfect every time around? You’d figure it is in their best interest to keep the temperatures not too hot, nor too cold.
When I run my A/C, I’m using up electricity. I don’t pay for electricity – so it’s no skin off my back. However, the property management firm does – so it costs them money. Same goes for the cold – if I were to use a space heater, that too costs them money.
I know my building is old, but it is one of the best maintained buildings in the city. I ought to know, I shopped around like crazy before moving in here. Most apartment buildings in this city fall into one of two extremes – either the property management firm doesn’t give a rat’s ass and lets everything go to hell, or – as in my building – they take exceptionally good care of the building.
When I was looking for a new apartment, I remember walking through one with the property manager. He told me they just painted the walls. Though obviously they hadn’t – I could see paint chips the size of old rusty Buicks peeling off the walls, and there were water marks on the ceilings (indicating pipe problems).
I went through another apartment building and the place was a dive – paint peeling, scratches on the hardwood floors, exposed wires and pipes. I asked if they were going to fix it up before the next tenant moved in. Nope. Nadda. We don’t do that. But if you want to, hey go ahead – they told me. Yeah, right – I’ll get right on that. NOT!
When I moved into my place, they repainted the all the walls, re-did all the floors, sanitized the kitchen and bathroom and even sprayed for creepy crawlies – all before I moved in. Though the place didn’t need most of that stuff – it was already in top shape. Here, they just do that as standard procedure before anyone moves in.
And they don’t stop there – they actually vacuum and wash down the hallways twice per week, and whenever I have a problem, they are right up to fix it.
So, why can’t they get my apartment to stay the right temperature?
Oh well – I’ve managed to improvise.
Where are my matches?
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Alright – I Admit It – I’m a Cheesehead
Most of us can call a specific decade our own, and fondly look back on those years. For me that decade is the 1980’s.
Looking back now, it seems pure cheese – pastel colors were in, as were leg warmers, parachute pants, and even the Parachute Club.
I grew up on 1980’s television. I remember rushing through my homework in grade eight, so that I wouldn’t miss The A-Team. I’d stay up to watch Night Rider, followed by the Dukes of Hazard. On weekends, I’d watch Diff’rent Strokes, The Facts of Life, Kids Incorporated, and who could ever forget Fraggle Rock!
“Kitt! I need you buddy!”
“Right away Michael!”
I miss those shows, even though they were so very corny.
Television represented the decade quite well – the simplicity of good old fashioned family values in standard middle-class nuclear families.
This was the decade of loving, caring families always resolving their differences. Shows like Family Ties, Growing Pains even Punky Brewster all were big on cute kids, getting into big problems, but in the end solving these problems and teaching us viewers how to resolve our own.
I even remember watching ALF and Harry and the Hendersons. Two cheesy shows with puppets as lead characters.
So that makes me a cheese head – big deal.
Hey, I grew up in the best decade.
My decade was when Michael Jackson and Maddona were not only big mega stars, but they were also relatively ‘normal.’ This was before Michael Jackson went from black man to some manila colored alien-like creature. Back before Maddona exposed herself and her sexuality on Letterman. Back then, they were only churning out great tunes.
Back in my decade, off-the-shoulder sweaters and showing a little ankle were sexy. These days, women show butt-cleavage – and that’s among the lesser of the skimpy outfits in style these days.
Life was so much simpler back then. Predators online – naw, there was no online, the Internet didn’t exist. Privacy existed, because cell phones and pagers were only carried by doctors, lawyers and the exceptionally wealthy. These days, kids have cell phones, and most managers carry BlackBerrys around all the time.
There may have only been 30 channels on television in the 1980’s, but back then, at least there was something worthwhile on some of those channels. I have over 500 channels now, and often shake my head in disgust with the lack of quality programming.
We never had to worry about terrorist attacks in Canada or the States in the 1980s. Though our thoughts of dread came from the Iron Curtin. The Cold War carried on between the super-powers of the USA and the USSR. But back then, political leaders were really leaders – and they knew better than to just go out and attack. The Cold War was mostly a mental war, each side trying to prove the other’s bluff.
These days, political leaders are more in it for themselves, or their own entertainment value, and it is really scary to think of all the military might they have at their disposal. George W. Bush has already shed more blood over the world, than George Bush SR and Bill Clinton ever did combined in their presidencies.
Yeppers – life was a whole lot simpler back in the 1980s.
Maybe that’s why there is a resurgence of 1980’s trends making a comeback. I’ve noticed some 80’s fashion is back in fashion – things like leg warmers and big hair.
Ah . . . big 80’s hair!
I had a big 1980’s doo. How I miss that too. It was wild, free and even just a little zany. But it was pretty simple too – just wild natural curls, that were prone to their windblown styling.
Wild and free – ahh the 1980s.
They say history has a tendency to repeat itself – well, I’m still waiting for the repeat of the 1980s.
Looking back now, it seems pure cheese – pastel colors were in, as were leg warmers, parachute pants, and even the Parachute Club.
I grew up on 1980’s television. I remember rushing through my homework in grade eight, so that I wouldn’t miss The A-Team. I’d stay up to watch Night Rider, followed by the Dukes of Hazard. On weekends, I’d watch Diff’rent Strokes, The Facts of Life, Kids Incorporated, and who could ever forget Fraggle Rock!
“Kitt! I need you buddy!”
“Right away Michael!”
I miss those shows, even though they were so very corny.
Television represented the decade quite well – the simplicity of good old fashioned family values in standard middle-class nuclear families.
This was the decade of loving, caring families always resolving their differences. Shows like Family Ties, Growing Pains even Punky Brewster all were big on cute kids, getting into big problems, but in the end solving these problems and teaching us viewers how to resolve our own.
I even remember watching ALF and Harry and the Hendersons. Two cheesy shows with puppets as lead characters.
So that makes me a cheese head – big deal.
Hey, I grew up in the best decade.
My decade was when Michael Jackson and Maddona were not only big mega stars, but they were also relatively ‘normal.’ This was before Michael Jackson went from black man to some manila colored alien-like creature. Back before Maddona exposed herself and her sexuality on Letterman. Back then, they were only churning out great tunes.
Back in my decade, off-the-shoulder sweaters and showing a little ankle were sexy. These days, women show butt-cleavage – and that’s among the lesser of the skimpy outfits in style these days.
Life was so much simpler back then. Predators online – naw, there was no online, the Internet didn’t exist. Privacy existed, because cell phones and pagers were only carried by doctors, lawyers and the exceptionally wealthy. These days, kids have cell phones, and most managers carry BlackBerrys around all the time.
There may have only been 30 channels on television in the 1980’s, but back then, at least there was something worthwhile on some of those channels. I have over 500 channels now, and often shake my head in disgust with the lack of quality programming.
We never had to worry about terrorist attacks in Canada or the States in the 1980s. Though our thoughts of dread came from the Iron Curtin. The Cold War carried on between the super-powers of the USA and the USSR. But back then, political leaders were really leaders – and they knew better than to just go out and attack. The Cold War was mostly a mental war, each side trying to prove the other’s bluff.
These days, political leaders are more in it for themselves, or their own entertainment value, and it is really scary to think of all the military might they have at their disposal. George W. Bush has already shed more blood over the world, than George Bush SR and Bill Clinton ever did combined in their presidencies.
Yeppers – life was a whole lot simpler back in the 1980s.
Maybe that’s why there is a resurgence of 1980’s trends making a comeback. I’ve noticed some 80’s fashion is back in fashion – things like leg warmers and big hair.
Ah . . . big 80’s hair!
I had a big 1980’s doo. How I miss that too. It was wild, free and even just a little zany. But it was pretty simple too – just wild natural curls, that were prone to their windblown styling.
Wild and free – ahh the 1980s.
They say history has a tendency to repeat itself – well, I’m still waiting for the repeat of the 1980s.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
When Local Malls Come Tumbling Down
I’m lucky to be in one of the largest cities in the world. I’ve been in small no-name towns, and they don’t come close in terms of resources.
There are two major shopping malls within 15-minutes from my home, 24-hour grocery stores a walk away, and a conveyance store just across the street from my apartment.
In small towns, often all the stores close around the same time at night, and many are scattered great distances from each other – means a lot of planned out traveling.
One of my local malls is changing – possibly for the worse.
Fairview Mall has been one of my favorite local malls since – well since forever. When I was a kid, my parents took me there. Through my teens, I’d go with my friends – we’d buy pop and candy bars at the Bulk Barn and sneak them in with us at the movie theatres. As an adult, I have gone to Fairview Mall many times, on my own and with friends, to shop.
Fairview Mall is under construction – all the good stores are gone or relocated elsewhere. The ceiling is a mess with scaffolding girders holding up patches here and there. There are fenced off areas with yellow tape and wooden planks, as construction workers do whatever it is they have been told to do.
I was talking with one of the sales staff in one of the stores at Fairview Mall. She tells me she’s not quite sure what is going on, but rumor has it that mall management is trying to make the place more like Yorkdale Mall.
Ah, Yorkdale Mall – one of the largest malls in Canada. But also one of the most expensive. I actually feel uncomfortable going to Yorkdale, because I don’t drive a Porsche, Hummer, ‘Beemer’ or any other vehicle that spells rich-man-a-walking.
Yorkdale Mall is mostly overpriced, high-end women’s clothing stores. There is a decent food court, and they have a great big movie theatre complex, and a handful of restaurants. But even though I can easily go to Yorkdale Mall, I don’t. I don’t like it – most of the stores cater to women, and there really isn’t much of interest to me – or my pocketbook at Yorkdale Mall.
I really hope this rumor about Fairview Mall is false. Fairview Mall used to have a good selection of stores to cater to average shoppers like me. They had some sports clothing stores, mens casual and dress stores, womens casual and dress stores, toy stores, bookstores – they had it all.
If Fairview Mall becomes another Yorkdale Mall, where will I go for a nice pair of pants?
I know where I’ll go – and it won’t be Fairview Mall.
And that really is sad in a way, because Fairview Mall has been a part of my life since I can remember. It is tragic when some 18-year-old whiz kid with an MBA tells someone what will make their mall a better mall.
Although that 18-year-old whiz kid probably has a great education in his field, he probably hasn’t ever been to a real mall. Probably never gone on a date – too busy reading and studying is my hunch. So, this 18-year-old whiz kid probably gave the best advice he could dig up in his books and other research materials.
Reality is so very different from what they teach in school these days. Textbooks are often as old, if not older than the professors spewing their aged words of wisdom.
And that’s why my local mall has come tumbling down.
Thanks -- you pimple-faced freak!
You ruined an amazingly good thing, by trying to make it better.
F*cking freak.
There are two major shopping malls within 15-minutes from my home, 24-hour grocery stores a walk away, and a conveyance store just across the street from my apartment.
In small towns, often all the stores close around the same time at night, and many are scattered great distances from each other – means a lot of planned out traveling.
One of my local malls is changing – possibly for the worse.
Fairview Mall has been one of my favorite local malls since – well since forever. When I was a kid, my parents took me there. Through my teens, I’d go with my friends – we’d buy pop and candy bars at the Bulk Barn and sneak them in with us at the movie theatres. As an adult, I have gone to Fairview Mall many times, on my own and with friends, to shop.
Fairview Mall is under construction – all the good stores are gone or relocated elsewhere. The ceiling is a mess with scaffolding girders holding up patches here and there. There are fenced off areas with yellow tape and wooden planks, as construction workers do whatever it is they have been told to do.
I was talking with one of the sales staff in one of the stores at Fairview Mall. She tells me she’s not quite sure what is going on, but rumor has it that mall management is trying to make the place more like Yorkdale Mall.
Ah, Yorkdale Mall – one of the largest malls in Canada. But also one of the most expensive. I actually feel uncomfortable going to Yorkdale, because I don’t drive a Porsche, Hummer, ‘Beemer’ or any other vehicle that spells rich-man-a-walking.
Yorkdale Mall is mostly overpriced, high-end women’s clothing stores. There is a decent food court, and they have a great big movie theatre complex, and a handful of restaurants. But even though I can easily go to Yorkdale Mall, I don’t. I don’t like it – most of the stores cater to women, and there really isn’t much of interest to me – or my pocketbook at Yorkdale Mall.
I really hope this rumor about Fairview Mall is false. Fairview Mall used to have a good selection of stores to cater to average shoppers like me. They had some sports clothing stores, mens casual and dress stores, womens casual and dress stores, toy stores, bookstores – they had it all.
If Fairview Mall becomes another Yorkdale Mall, where will I go for a nice pair of pants?
I know where I’ll go – and it won’t be Fairview Mall.
And that really is sad in a way, because Fairview Mall has been a part of my life since I can remember. It is tragic when some 18-year-old whiz kid with an MBA tells someone what will make their mall a better mall.
Although that 18-year-old whiz kid probably has a great education in his field, he probably hasn’t ever been to a real mall. Probably never gone on a date – too busy reading and studying is my hunch. So, this 18-year-old whiz kid probably gave the best advice he could dig up in his books and other research materials.
Reality is so very different from what they teach in school these days. Textbooks are often as old, if not older than the professors spewing their aged words of wisdom.
And that’s why my local mall has come tumbling down.
Thanks -- you pimple-faced freak!
You ruined an amazingly good thing, by trying to make it better.
F*cking freak.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Smiling Happy Workers
As a consultant, I get the rare opportunity to visit many different office environments. Most these days are pretty much the same business-casual nine-to-fivers.
There are extremes in everything, as in offices. I went to one office where blue jeans, t-shirts and even flip-flops were the norm. At this particular software gaming company, the vice-president I met with was in not only blue jeans and a t-shirt, nope – that wasn’t good enough for him. He just so happened to have a white t-shirt with a cartoon-like fist, and the middle finger was extended in the . . . ah, shall we say not in such a nice way.
Then there are the big greedy banks, with their three-piece, pin-striped suits, ties and polished shoes. If this were the roaring twenties, you’d swear Al Capone would walk by any moment.
Interestingly enough, clothes do make the man – or women in our equally represented work world. I’ve found those places that are so laid back anything fashion-wise goes, have the same attitudes towards business. While those stuck in stiff, uncomfortable suits and ties are more stuck-up and less likely to make those around them feel welcome.
The best places to work are definitely the business-casual ones. Not too far one way or the other.
Though I must say, at lot comes from the top down at any company. If the presidents, vice-presidents, directors, managers and other higher-ups treat their subordinates like they are lucky to be there, then the work atmosphere is one of distrust, over-competition, and visitors feel awkward at best.
However, the place I’m currently on contract is showing a smiling happy work force – one might even say they glow with glee.
My current contract has landed me in a business-casual environment, with the usual middle-road atmosphere. However, something is different – everyone really likes being at work.
I was taken around the office by human resources and by the manager I’m working with. On both tours, everyone was very jovial and exceptionally happy to be there. It was like a page out of one of those idiot books, something like “Running a Happy Office for Dummies,” or something like that.
I was very impressed and look forward to working on-site with these happy workers more often. It isn’t every day you talk to someone who really likes who they work with and where they work. Almost everyone has something to complain about when water cooler chit-chat and office politics enter the mix.
Not here – this place probably has office politics and the occasional office gossip. But they don’t let it affect their attitudes – they were very warm, friendly and very positive.
Of course this was my first day with this client – who knows what tomorrow will bring?
However, having been in and out of many offices – I’d say this company is off to an amazing start.
There are extremes in everything, as in offices. I went to one office where blue jeans, t-shirts and even flip-flops were the norm. At this particular software gaming company, the vice-president I met with was in not only blue jeans and a t-shirt, nope – that wasn’t good enough for him. He just so happened to have a white t-shirt with a cartoon-like fist, and the middle finger was extended in the . . . ah, shall we say not in such a nice way.
Then there are the big greedy banks, with their three-piece, pin-striped suits, ties and polished shoes. If this were the roaring twenties, you’d swear Al Capone would walk by any moment.
Interestingly enough, clothes do make the man – or women in our equally represented work world. I’ve found those places that are so laid back anything fashion-wise goes, have the same attitudes towards business. While those stuck in stiff, uncomfortable suits and ties are more stuck-up and less likely to make those around them feel welcome.
The best places to work are definitely the business-casual ones. Not too far one way or the other.
Though I must say, at lot comes from the top down at any company. If the presidents, vice-presidents, directors, managers and other higher-ups treat their subordinates like they are lucky to be there, then the work atmosphere is one of distrust, over-competition, and visitors feel awkward at best.
However, the place I’m currently on contract is showing a smiling happy work force – one might even say they glow with glee.
My current contract has landed me in a business-casual environment, with the usual middle-road atmosphere. However, something is different – everyone really likes being at work.
I was taken around the office by human resources and by the manager I’m working with. On both tours, everyone was very jovial and exceptionally happy to be there. It was like a page out of one of those idiot books, something like “Running a Happy Office for Dummies,” or something like that.
I was very impressed and look forward to working on-site with these happy workers more often. It isn’t every day you talk to someone who really likes who they work with and where they work. Almost everyone has something to complain about when water cooler chit-chat and office politics enter the mix.
Not here – this place probably has office politics and the occasional office gossip. But they don’t let it affect their attitudes – they were very warm, friendly and very positive.
Of course this was my first day with this client – who knows what tomorrow will bring?
However, having been in and out of many offices – I’d say this company is off to an amazing start.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Workout Songs
The world is soundful place – there are sounds all around us.
From the sounds of traffic, to birds, to people talking, eating, even singing.
The other day at the gym, I heard someone singing in the shower. Now, singing in the shower is fine – if you are alone at home. But subjecting others to your off-key rendition of something that sounds like – well uh er – it didn’t sound like anything to be frank – is wrong, wrong, wrong.
I can’t sing – anyone who knows me well enough knows that. I may hum in the shower occasionally, but only if it is my shower at home – not the one at the gym. I won’t even do karaoke – unless heavily under the influence of several drinks.
Singing in the shower is a way of expressing joy, happiness and other good feelings. And it should – singing is a great stress reliever. As is working out -- after a workout, most people feel energized, a-buzz with energy and adrenalin.
However, singing in the shower at the gym is no different from walking through downtown Toronto naked. Sure, you may get compliments, but you’d also probably offend a great deal of people.
Same with singing in the shower at the gym – some people may actually like your off-key wails and moans. Others will be offended.
I’ve been to my fair share of gyms over the years, and there is always some freak thinking he’s Frank Sinatra. They have signs all over the showers, telling us not to leave our towels on the benches or floors, to be careful because the floor may be slippery when wet, don’t drop the soap – just kidding about the last one.
Maybe they should put up another sign – no singing in the shower. That would quash that problem like a bug. After all, we all obey every sign we see. . .
Then again, maybe not.
Guess I’m stuck listening to bad beats gone terribly wrong.
Pass me a towel.
From the sounds of traffic, to birds, to people talking, eating, even singing.
The other day at the gym, I heard someone singing in the shower. Now, singing in the shower is fine – if you are alone at home. But subjecting others to your off-key rendition of something that sounds like – well uh er – it didn’t sound like anything to be frank – is wrong, wrong, wrong.
I can’t sing – anyone who knows me well enough knows that. I may hum in the shower occasionally, but only if it is my shower at home – not the one at the gym. I won’t even do karaoke – unless heavily under the influence of several drinks.
Singing in the shower is a way of expressing joy, happiness and other good feelings. And it should – singing is a great stress reliever. As is working out -- after a workout, most people feel energized, a-buzz with energy and adrenalin.
However, singing in the shower at the gym is no different from walking through downtown Toronto naked. Sure, you may get compliments, but you’d also probably offend a great deal of people.
Same with singing in the shower at the gym – some people may actually like your off-key wails and moans. Others will be offended.
I’ve been to my fair share of gyms over the years, and there is always some freak thinking he’s Frank Sinatra. They have signs all over the showers, telling us not to leave our towels on the benches or floors, to be careful because the floor may be slippery when wet, don’t drop the soap – just kidding about the last one.
Maybe they should put up another sign – no singing in the shower. That would quash that problem like a bug. After all, we all obey every sign we see. . .
Then again, maybe not.
Guess I’m stuck listening to bad beats gone terribly wrong.
Pass me a towel.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The Bitchin Internet
Ever notice how most people online are in fowl moods?
I occasionally go into chat rooms when I’m bored and have nothing else to do. Usually, I’m just looking to talk with others to kill time. Who knows, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll find someone normal that can become a regular chat buddy. Make that extremely lucky. . .
Most people online seem to be online to get rid of rage. I find this in chat rooms and other online communities – everyone seems angry and just looking to pick a fight, or rant about their sorry excuse of a life.
I don’t know about you, but when things aren’t going my way, I do other things to take my mind off of my troubles. I hit the gym and do an extra-long workout to sweat it out. Maybe I’ll do some housework to take my mind off of my problems. Or even getting together with friends and just hanging out – anything but go online and vent to strangers.
Yes – strangers. Anyone online can say or be anything they want, so unless you’ve actually physically met someone in person, anyone you ‘meet’ online is a stranger.
And talking about my problems to a group of strangers seems unreal to me. How can someone who doesn’t really know me, help me muddle through my messes? Even for that matter – why would someone who doesn’t know me give a rat’s ass about my problems – they have their own to deal with?
Some people online seem severely depressed – and they use the online world in place of what they really need – professional help. Imagine the money professional head doctors could make off most nuts online. If they could open an online practice, they’d be set for life.
The real problem is for non-depressed, relatively happy and ‘normal’ people like me – I don’t go online to pick fights, vent or seek mental help from strangers. I go online to chat – really chat. Not about my problems, or someone else’s – but to talk intelligently about the world around us.
Sad thing is, that kind of chat doesn’t seem to exist anymore online. It used too – once upon a time. Back before the Internet existed, everyone used dial-up modems to connect to Bulletin Board Systems (BBS), back then people really chatted online.
Back in the days of BBSes, there were message boards for everything from general chit-chat, to specific software and hardware technologies, to television shows, movies, and hobbies. Kind of along the same lines of topics chat rooms are divided into today.
Though back then, rarely did people chat live with others online. Nope, this was way before that live-chat technology existed. Back in those days, you read messages posted by others, and responded to those messages. Then others would log in later, read your responses, and respond in kind – and on and on the dialogue went. I think that added something to the whole experience – you got to take your time and actually read well thought out ideas. Then, you had the time to construct your own well thought out ideas and respond.
These days, chat rooms are filled with so many people, the text flies by so fast you often miss anything more than a handful of words – hardly the venue for deep thought.
Maybe that’s why so many angry souls visit the online world – the last thing they want or need is to think?
Too bad – I enjoy a good thunkin online.
I occasionally go into chat rooms when I’m bored and have nothing else to do. Usually, I’m just looking to talk with others to kill time. Who knows, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll find someone normal that can become a regular chat buddy. Make that extremely lucky. . .
Most people online seem to be online to get rid of rage. I find this in chat rooms and other online communities – everyone seems angry and just looking to pick a fight, or rant about their sorry excuse of a life.
I don’t know about you, but when things aren’t going my way, I do other things to take my mind off of my troubles. I hit the gym and do an extra-long workout to sweat it out. Maybe I’ll do some housework to take my mind off of my problems. Or even getting together with friends and just hanging out – anything but go online and vent to strangers.
Yes – strangers. Anyone online can say or be anything they want, so unless you’ve actually physically met someone in person, anyone you ‘meet’ online is a stranger.
And talking about my problems to a group of strangers seems unreal to me. How can someone who doesn’t really know me, help me muddle through my messes? Even for that matter – why would someone who doesn’t know me give a rat’s ass about my problems – they have their own to deal with?
Some people online seem severely depressed – and they use the online world in place of what they really need – professional help. Imagine the money professional head doctors could make off most nuts online. If they could open an online practice, they’d be set for life.
The real problem is for non-depressed, relatively happy and ‘normal’ people like me – I don’t go online to pick fights, vent or seek mental help from strangers. I go online to chat – really chat. Not about my problems, or someone else’s – but to talk intelligently about the world around us.
Sad thing is, that kind of chat doesn’t seem to exist anymore online. It used too – once upon a time. Back before the Internet existed, everyone used dial-up modems to connect to Bulletin Board Systems (BBS), back then people really chatted online.
Back in the days of BBSes, there were message boards for everything from general chit-chat, to specific software and hardware technologies, to television shows, movies, and hobbies. Kind of along the same lines of topics chat rooms are divided into today.
Though back then, rarely did people chat live with others online. Nope, this was way before that live-chat technology existed. Back in those days, you read messages posted by others, and responded to those messages. Then others would log in later, read your responses, and respond in kind – and on and on the dialogue went. I think that added something to the whole experience – you got to take your time and actually read well thought out ideas. Then, you had the time to construct your own well thought out ideas and respond.
These days, chat rooms are filled with so many people, the text flies by so fast you often miss anything more than a handful of words – hardly the venue for deep thought.
Maybe that’s why so many angry souls visit the online world – the last thing they want or need is to think?
Too bad – I enjoy a good thunkin online.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Hey! Hey! Hey! The Gang is All Here
Technology is great at bridging gaps between people. I can send and receive emails and instant messages from anywhere, to anywhere, anytime.
However, technology surprises sometimes even someone as technological savvy as me. Or should I say – the people using that technology surprise me.
Occasionally I will work from home, or even when I don’t work from home this happens too – I’ll get a quick call from a co-worker checking in on a project or that needs some information.
However, thanks to technology, often that co-worker isn’t alone. I’ve been surprised on more than one occasion with group conference calls.
“Hey Jordan, Bill here,” the voice of a colleague on the phone says.
“Hey Bill, how’s it goin?” I respond, thinking it’s just a normal call from a co-worker.
“Pretty good Jordan, do you have a minute to talk?” he asks.
When you work for multiple clients on multiple deadlines, it is always more than kind – often it is a requirement – to ask if I’m busy before answer a call. I may be rushing to a meeting, on a tight deadline, or heading to another office. Not everyone asks if I have the time to talk – but it is appreciated when someone does.
If I’m not rushing I’ll take the call. If I am rushing, I still may take the call, simply because most phone calls these days are quick. If there was something more involved a meeting is usually scheduled or someone actually arrives unannounced at my desk for a chat.
“Yeah, no problem Bill,” I respond, thinking this will be a quick call as per usual. “What’s up?”
“Great, oh, I’ve got Chandra, Mary, Josephine, Doug, Tim and Will on the call too,” Bill says matter-of-factly.
Great – this quick call just turned into an instant meeting. When you have that many people on a call, you know it is going to take at least 10-minutes or more. Everyone has an opinion and everyone will voice it.
The power of technology rears its ugly head.
It is great to be able to conference-in people from anywhere and at anytime. However, that doesn’t mean it is a good idea.
Had I known there were a number of people in on this call, I’d probably told my co-worker that I have a meeting, a deadline or whatever else it is I’m working on coming up and that my time is limited. I’d still answer a few questions, but now at least, everyone knows that I can’t sit around and be in this instant meeting.
But my goose egg has already been dropped. I’m stuck in this instant meeting, because I’ve just told them I’m free and available to chat.
Not only does this affect my scheduling or projects and work, but it also tosses my head for a loop. Unlike those already in the meeting, I haven’t had time to prepare. Although I may have an idea as to what they are discussing, I really don’t know. So, I don’t have any materials prepared ahead of time to use to prove my points, or field someone else’s questions.
It also affects other office rituals – like eating at one’s desk.
I could have been eating my lunch at my desk while working away – not all that uncommon these days. When you’re on a conference call, there is very little time to munch and work – all your attention has to be on the phone.
There you have it – technology at its finest.
Thankfully, they haven’t started putting phones in bathroom stalls – yet.
However, technology surprises sometimes even someone as technological savvy as me. Or should I say – the people using that technology surprise me.
Occasionally I will work from home, or even when I don’t work from home this happens too – I’ll get a quick call from a co-worker checking in on a project or that needs some information.
However, thanks to technology, often that co-worker isn’t alone. I’ve been surprised on more than one occasion with group conference calls.
“Hey Jordan, Bill here,” the voice of a colleague on the phone says.
“Hey Bill, how’s it goin?” I respond, thinking it’s just a normal call from a co-worker.
“Pretty good Jordan, do you have a minute to talk?” he asks.
When you work for multiple clients on multiple deadlines, it is always more than kind – often it is a requirement – to ask if I’m busy before answer a call. I may be rushing to a meeting, on a tight deadline, or heading to another office. Not everyone asks if I have the time to talk – but it is appreciated when someone does.
If I’m not rushing I’ll take the call. If I am rushing, I still may take the call, simply because most phone calls these days are quick. If there was something more involved a meeting is usually scheduled or someone actually arrives unannounced at my desk for a chat.
“Yeah, no problem Bill,” I respond, thinking this will be a quick call as per usual. “What’s up?”
“Great, oh, I’ve got Chandra, Mary, Josephine, Doug, Tim and Will on the call too,” Bill says matter-of-factly.
Great – this quick call just turned into an instant meeting. When you have that many people on a call, you know it is going to take at least 10-minutes or more. Everyone has an opinion and everyone will voice it.
The power of technology rears its ugly head.
It is great to be able to conference-in people from anywhere and at anytime. However, that doesn’t mean it is a good idea.
Had I known there were a number of people in on this call, I’d probably told my co-worker that I have a meeting, a deadline or whatever else it is I’m working on coming up and that my time is limited. I’d still answer a few questions, but now at least, everyone knows that I can’t sit around and be in this instant meeting.
But my goose egg has already been dropped. I’m stuck in this instant meeting, because I’ve just told them I’m free and available to chat.
Not only does this affect my scheduling or projects and work, but it also tosses my head for a loop. Unlike those already in the meeting, I haven’t had time to prepare. Although I may have an idea as to what they are discussing, I really don’t know. So, I don’t have any materials prepared ahead of time to use to prove my points, or field someone else’s questions.
It also affects other office rituals – like eating at one’s desk.
I could have been eating my lunch at my desk while working away – not all that uncommon these days. When you’re on a conference call, there is very little time to munch and work – all your attention has to be on the phone.
There you have it – technology at its finest.
Thankfully, they haven’t started putting phones in bathroom stalls – yet.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Carnage! And Other Distractions of the Soul
Every Sunday is family day – either my parents come to my place or I take them out for dinner. This Sunday, they came over to my place.
I love these family dinners. It is a great time to catch-up with my family. Though the first 10-minutes of this family time, were spent distracted by the goings on outside.
A car had crashed into the guardrail on the highway below and we were watching all the action unfold – from the safety of my lofty high-rise apartment’s windows.
It always amazes me how we human beings so easily become distracted by another person’s tragedy.
Rubbernecking – a term coined by cops, about drivers that slow down at accident scenes to see what all the fuss is about – isn’t all that uncommon. There is a rubbernecking law in Ontario, which allows cops to ticket anyone holding up traffic by slowing down too long to look at an accident.
Still, why the fascination with these acts of destruction, human suffering and potential carnage?
I have digital cable – literally over 500-channels – yet I’ve spent countless hours watching accidents on the roads below out my windows.
Why?
I think it is pure and simple fascination with the gross and disturbing. We all have it in us – it is part of being human. It’s why some of us find those medical shows, where they actually videotape an operation so intriguing. It’s what made daytime television trash tabloid shows like Jerry Springer popular. It’s why reality television shows like COPS, Cheaters, Survivor, The Bachelor and similar shows are mega-hits. It’s why we no longer cringe when we see war-torn countries on the news.
Truth is we never did cringe when we saw the bloodshed of battles in the news. We haven’t been desensitized to the horrors of the world – we’ve always been somewhat fascinated by it.
That’s just part of being human. It is a raunchy part of our humanity. This is a part of who we are – though we hide it deep within our darkest cavities.
It makes sense too – how else could we have survived as a species if we didn’t learn how to defend ourselves from predators and how to kill to be a predator for our very own survival?
Charles Darwin told us only the strong shall survive. In order to be strong you have to be able to stomach the gross, the horrific, and the tragic.
So our inner coping mechanism of stomaching these things is fascination and interest.
And that’s why my family dinner was distracted by a total stranger’s car wreck for a brief moment in time – out of our human fascination and interest.
Yeppers – I’m a rubbernecker. But so are you.
I love these family dinners. It is a great time to catch-up with my family. Though the first 10-minutes of this family time, were spent distracted by the goings on outside.
A car had crashed into the guardrail on the highway below and we were watching all the action unfold – from the safety of my lofty high-rise apartment’s windows.
It always amazes me how we human beings so easily become distracted by another person’s tragedy.
Rubbernecking – a term coined by cops, about drivers that slow down at accident scenes to see what all the fuss is about – isn’t all that uncommon. There is a rubbernecking law in Ontario, which allows cops to ticket anyone holding up traffic by slowing down too long to look at an accident.
Still, why the fascination with these acts of destruction, human suffering and potential carnage?
I have digital cable – literally over 500-channels – yet I’ve spent countless hours watching accidents on the roads below out my windows.
Why?
I think it is pure and simple fascination with the gross and disturbing. We all have it in us – it is part of being human. It’s why some of us find those medical shows, where they actually videotape an operation so intriguing. It’s what made daytime television trash tabloid shows like Jerry Springer popular. It’s why reality television shows like COPS, Cheaters, Survivor, The Bachelor and similar shows are mega-hits. It’s why we no longer cringe when we see war-torn countries on the news.
Truth is we never did cringe when we saw the bloodshed of battles in the news. We haven’t been desensitized to the horrors of the world – we’ve always been somewhat fascinated by it.
That’s just part of being human. It is a raunchy part of our humanity. This is a part of who we are – though we hide it deep within our darkest cavities.
It makes sense too – how else could we have survived as a species if we didn’t learn how to defend ourselves from predators and how to kill to be a predator for our very own survival?
Charles Darwin told us only the strong shall survive. In order to be strong you have to be able to stomach the gross, the horrific, and the tragic.
So our inner coping mechanism of stomaching these things is fascination and interest.
And that’s why my family dinner was distracted by a total stranger’s car wreck for a brief moment in time – out of our human fascination and interest.
Yeppers – I’m a rubbernecker. But so are you.
Monday, January 29, 2007
How To Catch A Cold
Anyone who knows me knows I love to people watch.
It is a fun, unobtrusive hobby, especially when you live in a big city as I do. There are so many vast and varied characters, you can learn a lot about society and the ways we do the things that we do.
One thing I’ve learned, young people, especially young girls, will stop at no lengths to impress.
It is winter here and we recently had the coldest day of the year, when temperatures dropped to -25C. We are still having some cold, winter-like weather – which is natural and normal this time of year.
Yet, at shopping malls that I’ve been at recently, I’ve seen young girls in mini-skirts, tank tops and flip-flops. No jackets, hats or mitts anywhere to be seen.
I’m no fashion guru, but even I know that type of clothing won’t keep the winter chill at bay.
And it isn’t just young girls inviting frost-bite – I saw a man in flip-flops, and bare feet trudging through the snow on my way to a client site the other day. Bare feet – toes and all – knee-deep in snow, ice and that wind-chill!
When I was in high school and later in life, when I was in the army, the same advice was handed down to me – always take care of your feet. In high school, I had a teacher that swore by keeping your feet warm, you warded off the potential for catching the common cold. In the army, they order you to keep changing your boots and socks while out in the field, to ensure they stay dry and warm – a wet foot is a cold foot and that leads to foot rot.
Regardless of our soldering on feet – winters in Canada are cold. Welcome to Canada, pass me my toque, eh?
They tell us the easiest way to keep from catching a cold or a flu is to wash our hands. Though I’d bet easy money we’d have fewer colds and flues if people also dressed for the weather.
I don’t know how accurate my old high school teacher was in his foot-theory – but I do know you’d never see me in flip-flops in the snow.
It is a fun, unobtrusive hobby, especially when you live in a big city as I do. There are so many vast and varied characters, you can learn a lot about society and the ways we do the things that we do.
One thing I’ve learned, young people, especially young girls, will stop at no lengths to impress.
It is winter here and we recently had the coldest day of the year, when temperatures dropped to -25C. We are still having some cold, winter-like weather – which is natural and normal this time of year.
Yet, at shopping malls that I’ve been at recently, I’ve seen young girls in mini-skirts, tank tops and flip-flops. No jackets, hats or mitts anywhere to be seen.
I’m no fashion guru, but even I know that type of clothing won’t keep the winter chill at bay.
And it isn’t just young girls inviting frost-bite – I saw a man in flip-flops, and bare feet trudging through the snow on my way to a client site the other day. Bare feet – toes and all – knee-deep in snow, ice and that wind-chill!
When I was in high school and later in life, when I was in the army, the same advice was handed down to me – always take care of your feet. In high school, I had a teacher that swore by keeping your feet warm, you warded off the potential for catching the common cold. In the army, they order you to keep changing your boots and socks while out in the field, to ensure they stay dry and warm – a wet foot is a cold foot and that leads to foot rot.
Regardless of our soldering on feet – winters in Canada are cold. Welcome to Canada, pass me my toque, eh?
They tell us the easiest way to keep from catching a cold or a flu is to wash our hands. Though I’d bet easy money we’d have fewer colds and flues if people also dressed for the weather.
I don’t know how accurate my old high school teacher was in his foot-theory – but I do know you’d never see me in flip-flops in the snow.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Mr. Greenjeans Goes South
Recently I was at the Eaton Centre in downtown Toronto with friends. The Eaton Centre is a great place to shop, hang out and people-watch. It is a classic tourist-trap – with lots of atmosphere from the hip and trendy Mac Store – to the scrumptious fattening (but ooooh so yummy) smells of Godiva’s Chocolates – to the well-to-do (and overpriced) high-end fashion stores.
There are two food courts in The Eaton Centre – which is Canada’s largest shopping mall. And there are even some restaurants in the mall – where you can enjoy a fine meal served with a smile.
Well, at least that’s how it used to be.
The Eaton Centre is very much like the CNTower – both are landmarks recognized the world over as being uniquely part of the Toronto landscape. And an up-beat fun restaurant in the Eaton Centre has also been a Toronto classic – Mr. Greenjeans.
I remember going to Mr. Greenjeans as a kid with my family. They had the best Buffalo Chips this side of the border, and they had a fun atmosphere. I remember the mini merry-go-rounds they had scattered throughout the restaurant – with their toy fire engine cars for seats. The image of the tall black hat, black cane, and white gloves floating on a background of a blue sky with perfectly placed clouds – an image they still use today in their menus and advertising – was always a reminder of the fun and enjoyment I had eating at Mr. Greenjeans restaurant.
Later in life, I’d go to the very same restaurant on dates, with friends from school, with co-workers from work – always enjoying a fun atmosphere, good food and a nice time out overall.
I even fell in love with some of their less manly beverages Рthey had a great selection of cocktails made with ice cream. My favorite was the Grasshopper РFrench Vanilla ice cream, cr̬me de menthe, cr̬me de coca and Kahlua. (Yeah I know Рreal men only drink beer, wine and shots Рyeah right!) Recently, they changed their menu and got rid of all their ice cream cocktails. I was disappointed, but hey, they still had great food and a fun atmosphere.
That fun atmosphere was ruined last night – completely tossed out the window by the wonderful staff of Mr. Greenjeans. While at the Eaton Centre with friends, we decided to have dinner. We all decided to go to Mr. Greenjeans – we had gone many times in the past and really enjoyed it.
Often there are long line-ups to get in and you have to wait to be seated – not a problem, usually it is well worth the wait. However, tonight was different – although we had gone many times before, tonight we were made to feel very unwelcome.
We always ask for booths when we go out as a group – it is easier to talk with everyone and more comfortable and private. We’re even willing to wait most of the time for a booth, as it may take longer to get. The main thing is the host is friendly, polite and professional.
Well, we were told the wait for a booth could be quite long, so we said a table would be okay. We were seated almost instantly – the hostess came up to us and told us our table was ready.
We were led to a table right at the front of the restaurant – in fact it probably is the very first table in the restaurant – right by the entrance stairway. No one in our group wanted to sit in such a high-traffic area, so we asked if we could sit somewhere else.
Now, the customer may not always be right – but treat us with respect and we’ll wait for something better to turn up.
But our hostess immediately said: “Oh that’s all we have available, this is the only table left.”
We saw other tables that were empty and being cleared – they probably would be ready soon – and normally we’d be willing to wait. But this hostess was very pushy, insisting – no -- demanding – that this will be our table.
Maybe our lack of shopping bags indicated that we were low-class or something, because obviously this hostess didn’t care to allow us to wait for another table to open up. She wanted that specific table filled with our warm bodies.
We left the restaurant and saw that the bar section – with big lounge chairs – was quite empty. So, we went back up to the hostess and asked her if she could seat us there. She told us there was a waiting list and we’d have to wait – even though there clearly was quite a few open tables with more than enough room for our small group of somewhat regular customers.
Everyone in our group got the distinct impression that this hostess was giving us attitude – why we have no idea. Maybe in the rush to change the menu of a classic Toronto landmark, they lost more than just their ice cream cocktails.
So, we decided to go down to the other restaurant in The Eaton Centre – The City Grill. We asked how long it would be for a booth for our group – and were told there was no wait. We were taken in warmly right away!
Originally, we were seated at a booth in some distant corner near the kitchen. But the host immediately saw another opening, and suggested a funky round booth in front of the bar – complete with large-screen TV and a great view of all the beverages available. We happily took up our new seats and enjoyed amazingly warm and friendly service – something we used to get at Mr. Greenjeans. At the City Grill, our waiter was very friendly and prompt, and knew when to come and check on us and when to leave us be. It was an exceptionally good dinning experience.
But hey, no loss to Mr. Greenjeans – our bill at the end of the night was almost $200.00 – I guess Mr. Greenjeans can afford to lose our business after all? Though if Mr. Greenjeans staff continues to impress their somewhat regular customers like us – who knows, maybe all their business will go south too – and then that would be the end of a once great Toronto landmark.
It is always tragic to watch a piece of Toronto shrivel up and die – but even more tragic knowing it could have been prevented long before it happens.
At least there are still some restaurants in Toronto that still treat the customer right – to bad none of those are called Mr. Greenjeans.
There are two food courts in The Eaton Centre – which is Canada’s largest shopping mall. And there are even some restaurants in the mall – where you can enjoy a fine meal served with a smile.
Well, at least that’s how it used to be.
The Eaton Centre is very much like the CNTower – both are landmarks recognized the world over as being uniquely part of the Toronto landscape. And an up-beat fun restaurant in the Eaton Centre has also been a Toronto classic – Mr. Greenjeans.
I remember going to Mr. Greenjeans as a kid with my family. They had the best Buffalo Chips this side of the border, and they had a fun atmosphere. I remember the mini merry-go-rounds they had scattered throughout the restaurant – with their toy fire engine cars for seats. The image of the tall black hat, black cane, and white gloves floating on a background of a blue sky with perfectly placed clouds – an image they still use today in their menus and advertising – was always a reminder of the fun and enjoyment I had eating at Mr. Greenjeans restaurant.
Later in life, I’d go to the very same restaurant on dates, with friends from school, with co-workers from work – always enjoying a fun atmosphere, good food and a nice time out overall.
I even fell in love with some of their less manly beverages Рthey had a great selection of cocktails made with ice cream. My favorite was the Grasshopper РFrench Vanilla ice cream, cr̬me de menthe, cr̬me de coca and Kahlua. (Yeah I know Рreal men only drink beer, wine and shots Рyeah right!) Recently, they changed their menu and got rid of all their ice cream cocktails. I was disappointed, but hey, they still had great food and a fun atmosphere.
That fun atmosphere was ruined last night – completely tossed out the window by the wonderful staff of Mr. Greenjeans. While at the Eaton Centre with friends, we decided to have dinner. We all decided to go to Mr. Greenjeans – we had gone many times in the past and really enjoyed it.
Often there are long line-ups to get in and you have to wait to be seated – not a problem, usually it is well worth the wait. However, tonight was different – although we had gone many times before, tonight we were made to feel very unwelcome.
We always ask for booths when we go out as a group – it is easier to talk with everyone and more comfortable and private. We’re even willing to wait most of the time for a booth, as it may take longer to get. The main thing is the host is friendly, polite and professional.
Well, we were told the wait for a booth could be quite long, so we said a table would be okay. We were seated almost instantly – the hostess came up to us and told us our table was ready.
We were led to a table right at the front of the restaurant – in fact it probably is the very first table in the restaurant – right by the entrance stairway. No one in our group wanted to sit in such a high-traffic area, so we asked if we could sit somewhere else.
Now, the customer may not always be right – but treat us with respect and we’ll wait for something better to turn up.
But our hostess immediately said: “Oh that’s all we have available, this is the only table left.”
We saw other tables that were empty and being cleared – they probably would be ready soon – and normally we’d be willing to wait. But this hostess was very pushy, insisting – no -- demanding – that this will be our table.
Maybe our lack of shopping bags indicated that we were low-class or something, because obviously this hostess didn’t care to allow us to wait for another table to open up. She wanted that specific table filled with our warm bodies.
We left the restaurant and saw that the bar section – with big lounge chairs – was quite empty. So, we went back up to the hostess and asked her if she could seat us there. She told us there was a waiting list and we’d have to wait – even though there clearly was quite a few open tables with more than enough room for our small group of somewhat regular customers.
Everyone in our group got the distinct impression that this hostess was giving us attitude – why we have no idea. Maybe in the rush to change the menu of a classic Toronto landmark, they lost more than just their ice cream cocktails.
So, we decided to go down to the other restaurant in The Eaton Centre – The City Grill. We asked how long it would be for a booth for our group – and were told there was no wait. We were taken in warmly right away!
Originally, we were seated at a booth in some distant corner near the kitchen. But the host immediately saw another opening, and suggested a funky round booth in front of the bar – complete with large-screen TV and a great view of all the beverages available. We happily took up our new seats and enjoyed amazingly warm and friendly service – something we used to get at Mr. Greenjeans. At the City Grill, our waiter was very friendly and prompt, and knew when to come and check on us and when to leave us be. It was an exceptionally good dinning experience.
But hey, no loss to Mr. Greenjeans – our bill at the end of the night was almost $200.00 – I guess Mr. Greenjeans can afford to lose our business after all? Though if Mr. Greenjeans staff continues to impress their somewhat regular customers like us – who knows, maybe all their business will go south too – and then that would be the end of a once great Toronto landmark.
It is always tragic to watch a piece of Toronto shrivel up and die – but even more tragic knowing it could have been prevented long before it happens.
At least there are still some restaurants in Toronto that still treat the customer right – to bad none of those are called Mr. Greenjeans.
Monday, November 13, 2006
I’m Standing In Fog
High atop the city, in my high-rise home above the clouds, I feel the clouds wrap around me. Tonight I stood in the fog. Really.
Up on the second-highest floor of my building, my apartment has the best views of the city. I can see all the way to the lake in the south, and way up past the city’s borders up to the north.
Most of the time.
Tonight, the sky is covered in a murky thick fog.
I went out on my balcony, because the fog was so thick. I have never seen it quite this thick. It has been thick before, but not like this.
Then it occurred to me, hey, I’m standing in the fog. I really am. I can feel the droplets of water making up the clouds swimming around me. I can see the fog all around me. It was as if I was floating on a cloud – aside from my concrete balcony below.
Awesome. I was standing in the fog. It was an eerie feeling being in the fog. Sort of like being trapped in a bad b-movie horror flick, only this was real. I half expected some zombie or Buffy the Vampire slayer to come jumping out from nowhere.
But it turns out, all was quiet way up in the midst of the fog. I think I’ll go back out there, just to be in the clouds again.
Up on the second-highest floor of my building, my apartment has the best views of the city. I can see all the way to the lake in the south, and way up past the city’s borders up to the north.
Most of the time.
Tonight, the sky is covered in a murky thick fog.
I went out on my balcony, because the fog was so thick. I have never seen it quite this thick. It has been thick before, but not like this.
Then it occurred to me, hey, I’m standing in the fog. I really am. I can feel the droplets of water making up the clouds swimming around me. I can see the fog all around me. It was as if I was floating on a cloud – aside from my concrete balcony below.
Awesome. I was standing in the fog. It was an eerie feeling being in the fog. Sort of like being trapped in a bad b-movie horror flick, only this was real. I half expected some zombie or Buffy the Vampire slayer to come jumping out from nowhere.
But it turns out, all was quiet way up in the midst of the fog. I think I’ll go back out there, just to be in the clouds again.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
The Isolation of Homework
My current client allows me the comfort to work at home. At least, that’s the way they described it. My typical day is filled with the occasional email, and not much else in terms of communication from the client.
Sounds like paradise, right?
No boss hanging over your shoulder, constantly bugging you to get your ass in gear. No office gossip, and none of that office politics.
However, it is actually quite lonely working from home.
I don’t like office gossip. Those who have all the time to talk poorly about someone else have too much time and not enough work. And I can’t stand office politics – people kissing someone’s ass to get that much anticipated big promotion.
But when you remove all the contact from the office, and reduce it to a mere handful of emails, you realize how alone in the world you are.
Granted, my current client is a little too carefree for me. I don’t like having someone constantly watching my every move. But, the client should have enough self interest in their invested dollars to at least call me every week and ask for a progress report.
I have gone weeks on this contract without talking to a single person.
I’m wrapping up this contract and I am looking forward to getting back out in the working world of the living.
We human beings are social animals – or so Darwin and many anthropologists tell us. Working all by oneself without any form of human contact, I can see why.
The isolation of being surrounded by nothing more than the voices in one’s head is all the proof I need. Guess I’ll just have to learn how to tolerate the office gossip, and live with the politics of an office.
That’s a small price to pay, for a little human contact at work.
Sounds like paradise, right?
No boss hanging over your shoulder, constantly bugging you to get your ass in gear. No office gossip, and none of that office politics.
However, it is actually quite lonely working from home.
I don’t like office gossip. Those who have all the time to talk poorly about someone else have too much time and not enough work. And I can’t stand office politics – people kissing someone’s ass to get that much anticipated big promotion.
But when you remove all the contact from the office, and reduce it to a mere handful of emails, you realize how alone in the world you are.
Granted, my current client is a little too carefree for me. I don’t like having someone constantly watching my every move. But, the client should have enough self interest in their invested dollars to at least call me every week and ask for a progress report.
I have gone weeks on this contract without talking to a single person.
I’m wrapping up this contract and I am looking forward to getting back out in the working world of the living.
We human beings are social animals – or so Darwin and many anthropologists tell us. Working all by oneself without any form of human contact, I can see why.
The isolation of being surrounded by nothing more than the voices in one’s head is all the proof I need. Guess I’ll just have to learn how to tolerate the office gossip, and live with the politics of an office.
That’s a small price to pay, for a little human contact at work.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Advice to Peter Jacobson – Less Is More
I just finished watching the King Kong. Nope, not the classic with famed screamer Fay Wray, this was the recent re-make staring Naomi Watts as the screaming babe.
I remember the original. It was a classic love story with the now famous tragic twist. A beautiful babe falls in love with a grotesque scary monster.
Peter Jacobson directed this re-make – you probably know him from his other major theatrical releases, the Lord of the Rings movies.
Jacobson did a wonderful job turning a classic into a Jurassic Park-like monster movie. The monster effects were even more realistic, with a full range of dinosaurs on the island where King Kong called home. The effects were amazing to watch, and the way they were incorporated with real-life actors was stunning.
Naomi Watts is hot – she can be my screaming babe any day.
Problem with this movie – as with the Lord of the Rings movies – was length. I was never a big fan ‘the rings.’ But I saw one of the movies, and afterwards I felt it was four hours of my life wasted.
Jacobson suffers the same fate with King Kong – the movie was over three hours long. I enjoyed watching the movie, it kept my attention throughout and I enjoyed comparing it to the original.
BUT, if I hadn’t been watching at home, from the Movienetwork onDemand, I’d probably not have enjoyed it. I probably wouldn’t have sat through all three hours straight. As it was, being onDemand, I paused it several times to get up, stretch, grab a snack, make dinner and other distractions which kept me coming back.
Less is more Jacobson. Less is more. Give us all the effects, the screaming babes, the love story with the tragic twist, but leave us wanting more. By creating mammoth length movies, I seriously question your story-telling abilities.
The best story tellers know how to edit something down into interesting and manageable bits – why don’t you?
I remember the original. It was a classic love story with the now famous tragic twist. A beautiful babe falls in love with a grotesque scary monster.
Peter Jacobson directed this re-make – you probably know him from his other major theatrical releases, the Lord of the Rings movies.
Jacobson did a wonderful job turning a classic into a Jurassic Park-like monster movie. The monster effects were even more realistic, with a full range of dinosaurs on the island where King Kong called home. The effects were amazing to watch, and the way they were incorporated with real-life actors was stunning.
Naomi Watts is hot – she can be my screaming babe any day.
Problem with this movie – as with the Lord of the Rings movies – was length. I was never a big fan ‘the rings.’ But I saw one of the movies, and afterwards I felt it was four hours of my life wasted.
Jacobson suffers the same fate with King Kong – the movie was over three hours long. I enjoyed watching the movie, it kept my attention throughout and I enjoyed comparing it to the original.
BUT, if I hadn’t been watching at home, from the Movienetwork onDemand, I’d probably not have enjoyed it. I probably wouldn’t have sat through all three hours straight. As it was, being onDemand, I paused it several times to get up, stretch, grab a snack, make dinner and other distractions which kept me coming back.
Less is more Jacobson. Less is more. Give us all the effects, the screaming babes, the love story with the tragic twist, but leave us wanting more. By creating mammoth length movies, I seriously question your story-telling abilities.
The best story tellers know how to edit something down into interesting and manageable bits – why don’t you?
Monday, October 30, 2006
New Year’s Bash
The year is winding down and that means P A R T Y!
Yeppers – I’m planning my New Year’s bash. But wait, Halloween is just a day a way, and we haven’t even talked about the Xmas holidays.
So?
Halloween is cool when you’re a kid. Dressing up, running around from neighbor to neighbor gathering candy. But once you hit adulthood, Halloween is pretty lame. I don’t want to be one of those old geezers handing out candy to kids. And I’m too old to get dressed up and run around the neighborhood.
So Halloween doesn’t mean much too me.
I actually kind of feel sorry for parents forced to drag their screaming kids around the neighborhood. Sure, they say they enjoy watching their kids have fun gathering treats – but deep down they are bound to be tired, sore and probably wishing it would all just be a distant memory.
Xmas holidays are pleasant times for friends and family. Giving and getting gifts, time of work, and can’t forget Egg Nog with a touch of rum. Maybe add a bit more of a touch of rum. A bit more . . . ahh that’s good stuff.
But the real celebrating at the end of the year is the end of the year – or at least it is too me. New Year’s brings friends together, loads of food, and plenty of booze.
And New Year’s is filled with traditions rooted deep down in my growing up. Sure, the other year-end holidays have some traditional components, but nothing like New Year’s.
Who can forget huddling around the boob-tube, flipping between Dick Clark’s New York City Ball Drop and the CityTV Annual New Year’s Eve Bash at Nathan Phillips Square? Who can forget the big countdown?
New Year’s is the party of the year. That’s why I’m already excitedly planning what to do.
Let’s see – what to do?
It might be nice to go out to dinner with friends and then back to my place and watch the countdown. Then again I could host the whole shebang, complete with food and drink. Could go downtown and enjoy the ambiance of the crowds.
Whatever I do with my friends this New Year’s one thing is for certain – it will be the party of the year.
Yeppers – I’m planning my New Year’s bash. But wait, Halloween is just a day a way, and we haven’t even talked about the Xmas holidays.
So?
Halloween is cool when you’re a kid. Dressing up, running around from neighbor to neighbor gathering candy. But once you hit adulthood, Halloween is pretty lame. I don’t want to be one of those old geezers handing out candy to kids. And I’m too old to get dressed up and run around the neighborhood.
So Halloween doesn’t mean much too me.
I actually kind of feel sorry for parents forced to drag their screaming kids around the neighborhood. Sure, they say they enjoy watching their kids have fun gathering treats – but deep down they are bound to be tired, sore and probably wishing it would all just be a distant memory.
Xmas holidays are pleasant times for friends and family. Giving and getting gifts, time of work, and can’t forget Egg Nog with a touch of rum. Maybe add a bit more of a touch of rum. A bit more . . . ahh that’s good stuff.
But the real celebrating at the end of the year is the end of the year – or at least it is too me. New Year’s brings friends together, loads of food, and plenty of booze.
And New Year’s is filled with traditions rooted deep down in my growing up. Sure, the other year-end holidays have some traditional components, but nothing like New Year’s.
Who can forget huddling around the boob-tube, flipping between Dick Clark’s New York City Ball Drop and the CityTV Annual New Year’s Eve Bash at Nathan Phillips Square? Who can forget the big countdown?
New Year’s is the party of the year. That’s why I’m already excitedly planning what to do.
Let’s see – what to do?
It might be nice to go out to dinner with friends and then back to my place and watch the countdown. Then again I could host the whole shebang, complete with food and drink. Could go downtown and enjoy the ambiance of the crowds.
Whatever I do with my friends this New Year’s one thing is for certain – it will be the party of the year.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Any Schmoe Can Vote
We’re in the midst of a municipal election here in Toronto, and politicians – as always – make their never-to-happen election promises.
Though one of the latest election promises has got my nerves in a tizzy.
Toronto mayor David Miller says if he’s elected, he’ll reform the election act so that landed immigrants can vote. Currently, only Canadian citizens can vote.
Toronto is one of the most multicultural cities in the world. We enjoy the benefits of having the best of many worlds.
But allowing people who aren’t citizens to vote, is wrong. It sends the wrong message to potential candidates – those running and those who may one day contemplate running – for office.
As you have to be a citizen to vote, guess what – you have to be a citizen to hold office. You can’t be prime minister, premier or even mayor, unless you are a full-blown Canadian citizen.
But, if you allow landed immigrants the right to vote, yeah – you got it – we’d end up a country run by someone elses’ agenda. No nation on earth currently allows someone to rule, unless that person holds citizenship in said land. These days, when someone takes the controls and they don’t have citizenship, we call that war.
I’m not saying that landed immigrants – or any immigrants – are bad. But if an immigrant wants to be ruler of our great land, I think they should show some interest in it first. Apply to become a citizen, and, if you are so honored, then – and only then – may you run for prime minister, premier or mayor.
Hey, if I had to learn who was Canada’s first prime minister in high school (Sir John A. MacDonald), I think it is only fair that someone with the hopes and dreams to one day vote, and maybe even run this place, know who was first in those very hard to fill shoes.
Though one of the latest election promises has got my nerves in a tizzy.
Toronto mayor David Miller says if he’s elected, he’ll reform the election act so that landed immigrants can vote. Currently, only Canadian citizens can vote.
Toronto is one of the most multicultural cities in the world. We enjoy the benefits of having the best of many worlds.
But allowing people who aren’t citizens to vote, is wrong. It sends the wrong message to potential candidates – those running and those who may one day contemplate running – for office.
As you have to be a citizen to vote, guess what – you have to be a citizen to hold office. You can’t be prime minister, premier or even mayor, unless you are a full-blown Canadian citizen.
But, if you allow landed immigrants the right to vote, yeah – you got it – we’d end up a country run by someone elses’ agenda. No nation on earth currently allows someone to rule, unless that person holds citizenship in said land. These days, when someone takes the controls and they don’t have citizenship, we call that war.
I’m not saying that landed immigrants – or any immigrants – are bad. But if an immigrant wants to be ruler of our great land, I think they should show some interest in it first. Apply to become a citizen, and, if you are so honored, then – and only then – may you run for prime minister, premier or mayor.
Hey, if I had to learn who was Canada’s first prime minister in high school (Sir John A. MacDonald), I think it is only fair that someone with the hopes and dreams to one day vote, and maybe even run this place, know who was first in those very hard to fill shoes.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Shhh . . . It is Like Breaking Into the Fort Knox
Finding work these days is like breaking into freaking Fort Knox. It used to be, you’d be offered a job based on a quick reference check – occasionally they didn’t even call the references.
These days, not only do they want your references before they even pick you from all the other candidates, they ask for criminal background checks, credit checks, intelligence tests, psychological profiling, aptitude tests. . . FUCK what’s next, asking to pierce me with a needle to get some of my DNA?
I don’t mind doing two or three interviews, and I certainly don’t mind a reference check – provided I have been selected for the gig and they aren’t just checking everyone elses references cart blanche.
As a contractor, I often get put through all the same hurdles that any other job seeker has – only I get it more often. I’m always interviewing for my next contract – so after a while you start to develop a thick skin.
Today for example, I interviewed some professional development association that requires someone with my skill set for a year-long engagement. The interview went very well, they asked all the right questions, showing me they knew what they wanted and were looking for the right characteristics in the right fields. I answered their questions well, and they were impressed with my wit and wisdom.
They explained that they would check everyone’s references, and those who’s references were solid, may – MAY – get called back for a second interview, and possibly even a third if the choices were very close.
FUCK! Double whammy!
They want to check references to see if I am worthy of INTERVIEWING further? That doesn’t even come close to narrowing the field of candidates.
They asked if I had brought my references. I had my laptop with me, and they were on the laptop. But I told them I hadn’t, but I could email them the references – I lied.
I have no intention of emailing references to some bozo so that they may call me back for a second and possibly a third interview. If they wanted to offer me a contract contingent upon a successful check of my references – fine – that’s standard practice.
But to simply toss me back into the ring with all the other contenders, that doesn’t justify bothering my very busy professional references.
My references are exceptional people. I have used them many times, and they have always come through. Every time I have submitted my references to someone who has already offered me work, I have landed that work.
However, I have noticed that when I have submitted my references for work without a firm offer, I have never won the prized contract. My hunch is, companies which ask for references up front do so as a standard procedure, and they either don’t contact them, or if they do, they are calling everyone’s references, regardless of whether or not they are really interested all of those people.
Fucking amateurs – acting all professional saying they need references to offer someone a contract. Offer me the contract first, contingent on a reference check – that’s professionalism at its finest.
So, if someone ever asks you for something out of the ordinary at a job interview, unless you are desperate for work, tell them to fuck off. Don’t take their crap – real professionals don’t dish crap out period.
These days, not only do they want your references before they even pick you from all the other candidates, they ask for criminal background checks, credit checks, intelligence tests, psychological profiling, aptitude tests. . . FUCK what’s next, asking to pierce me with a needle to get some of my DNA?
I don’t mind doing two or three interviews, and I certainly don’t mind a reference check – provided I have been selected for the gig and they aren’t just checking everyone elses references cart blanche.
As a contractor, I often get put through all the same hurdles that any other job seeker has – only I get it more often. I’m always interviewing for my next contract – so after a while you start to develop a thick skin.
Today for example, I interviewed some professional development association that requires someone with my skill set for a year-long engagement. The interview went very well, they asked all the right questions, showing me they knew what they wanted and were looking for the right characteristics in the right fields. I answered their questions well, and they were impressed with my wit and wisdom.
They explained that they would check everyone’s references, and those who’s references were solid, may – MAY – get called back for a second interview, and possibly even a third if the choices were very close.
FUCK! Double whammy!
They want to check references to see if I am worthy of INTERVIEWING further? That doesn’t even come close to narrowing the field of candidates.
They asked if I had brought my references. I had my laptop with me, and they were on the laptop. But I told them I hadn’t, but I could email them the references – I lied.
I have no intention of emailing references to some bozo so that they may call me back for a second and possibly a third interview. If they wanted to offer me a contract contingent upon a successful check of my references – fine – that’s standard practice.
But to simply toss me back into the ring with all the other contenders, that doesn’t justify bothering my very busy professional references.
My references are exceptional people. I have used them many times, and they have always come through. Every time I have submitted my references to someone who has already offered me work, I have landed that work.
However, I have noticed that when I have submitted my references for work without a firm offer, I have never won the prized contract. My hunch is, companies which ask for references up front do so as a standard procedure, and they either don’t contact them, or if they do, they are calling everyone’s references, regardless of whether or not they are really interested all of those people.
Fucking amateurs – acting all professional saying they need references to offer someone a contract. Offer me the contract first, contingent on a reference check – that’s professionalism at its finest.
So, if someone ever asks you for something out of the ordinary at a job interview, unless you are desperate for work, tell them to fuck off. Don’t take their crap – real professionals don’t dish crap out period.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Weirdos Nutballs and Me
Why are all the nutballs attracted to me? Or so it seems – they often flock my way.
When I first moved into my apartment a year ago, the guy a few apartments down from mine came over to say hi and introduce himself. I thought it was a nice gesture and it is good to know one’s neighbors.
He soon began approaching me often, to hang out, and talk. He was trying to be my friend. I thought that was nice, and tried to be his friend too.
We hung out, went out to bars and restaurants occasionally, he even met my immediate family and some friends. Things were okay, though he seemed to have a few oddities about him. But hey, none of us are completely normal, so I let it slide.
Some of his odd character traits were even impressive – wherever we went, he managed to chat up some member of the opposite sex. He is single, and he was hitting on these women – and he even showed some progress. Although he never got any serious dates out of these conversations, he did make these women smile and laugh, which isn’t all that bad.
Still, he had some oddball ideas, which were all the more scary because he was serious in these ideas. One idea he had, was for me to sell my unused parking spot to someone else to make money. Obviously, this is wrong and I didn’t do it – it isn’t my parking spot to sell, not to mention it would give some stranger access to our building. Still, this character was quite serious in this endeavor – he even had some one lined up for me to sell my parking spot too.
Another brainchild of his was to join him at work. He took a job in some call center, working for not even half what I make in my daily job. He said I should give him a resume and join him – it was fun and easy work.
I did some call center work years ago and never liked it. They pay crap, treat their staff like crap, and most people who work in call centers get out of it as fast as they go in. The turn-over in those jobs is outrageously high, mainly because it just isn’t a nice normal nine to five gig. Call centers usually try to catch people when they are at home, so the hours are usually when most people are at home. Which means the hours of work are usually when your friends and family are free, so if you work in a call center, you never get to see them – because you are working.
Most call center jobs are held by teenagers, the college or university students, or the working poor. So, if you’re over 25 and you work in a call center, chances are you have skipped out on any chances of having a productive life – because you are the working poor.
So, naturally, I despise call centers and would never work in them again. I didn’t voice my distain for call centers with my friend, as he seemed to really enjoy his job, but I did make it clear I wasn’t interested.
Now, if he was a friend, he should have accepted my answer. Nope, he kept on selling his job, and asking me to give him a resume. I kept telling him no thanks – I think it is great that he loves his job so much, but I just wasn’t interested.
For a whole month, every time I’d run into him, he’d ask me for a resume. He sometimes even seemed mad. A couple times he told me “I don’t see why you just don’t give me a resume.” Why should I give someone a resume for a job I am not interested in?
This went on for a month. I started to avoid him as I really didn’t want to get into another discussion about why I wasn’t going to give him a resume. The situation got so bad, I even asked a group of strangers on an online community what to do. Imagine asking strangers how to handle someone who claims to be your friend.
Then, one day, he comes on over – unannounced as always – and tells me things aren’t going so great at work. They are starting to put pressure on him to make more calls and it is starting to get to him. I am relieved, as now I will not be hounding me to hand in a resume.
I think the issue is done, and let him in, to join me and my brother. We watched a movie on the movie network, had some cake, talked, and joked around. It was nice.
Then he asked me for money.
He didn’t ask for a lot of money – only $40. It isn’t the money that bugs me -- $40 isn’t much, you can’t even buy much these days for $40. It is more the type of person he is – needy. Too needy.
I moved into my place a year ago this month – so I have known this person a whole year already. In all that time, he has never been stable financially. He has gone from one McJob to another, trying desperately to make ends meet.
In many ways I feel for him – I do. But in many others I really can’t stand him. If I knew him for many years, and he just happened to have a bad one, fine, I’d understand. But I only have known him for a year, and he has never demonstrated the potential to be anything to anyone in all that time. He’s been living off the kindness of his friends, because he hasn’t had a real job.
It is okay – even understandable – to struggle your first few years out on your own. But I’ve been living on my own for quite some time. I have gone through some rough periods where I wondered where my next pay cheque would come from. But I have always bounced back – managing to get work in my field.
I distance myself from those who mooch off others because eventually they will mooch off of me. I can’t afford to pay for someone else’s life – I have my own to lead.
So, I started to distance myself from this person. I stopped returning his calls, never answered the door when he came over, and essentially avoided him at all costs.
He creeped me out. He made me feel uncomfortable with his hairbrain borderline legal scams, his pathetically desperate attempts at getting a date, and his continuous griping about how he’s always in debt, can never afford something as basic as going out for drinks, and is always working to make ends meet.
I had enough of this, so I cut him off.
Then, oddly, I started getting calls on my cell from PRIVATE. I don’t know anyone named PRIVATE. Yesterday, PRIVATE left me a message. It was Mr. Creepy, telling me that he’s been busy too, but as still made the effort to call, the least I could do is the same. I’ve been avoiding Mr. Creepy now for a month – you’d figure most normal people would get the message and say “his loss” and move on.
Not Mr. Creepy – I had my parents over for dinner tonight, and he kept banging on the door for a couple of minutes. I had to tell my parents this whole tale and my mom agreed with me – she said he was creepy. Then he slid a note through my mail slot.
Hallelujah! Finally this nutbar gets the message. Maybe he’ll leave me alone and move on. Took him long enough – only a whole month of nagging voice-mails, uninvited interruptions to my life at my door.
I didn’t read it, my mom did and she told me he was “bad news” and sounds like he’s “trouble.” The note just said that he’s been trying to talk to me, and he thinks I have been avoiding him because of his request for $40. He wants an explanation, but if I don’t call him soon, he’ll just not consider me a friend.
I remember a couple women I dated years ago (at separate times obviously) that followed the same path after our breakup. These women had some nasty run-ins with men. One had been cheated on, and mentally and physically abused, the other had all those things, and she was also raped by a past boyfriend.
So, these women had some baggage, that I thought wouldn’t affect our relationship, so I tried to date them anyways. It didn’t work in either case, and after a couple of dates, I just stopped talking to them. We never got serious, and it was only a couple of dates. Normally, the standard approach to ending the “relationship” was avoidance.
It happened to me on the odd occasion, where I’d go out with a woman, and after a while, she just never called back. Although I felt sad, and wondered why, I took the hint and moved on with my life. I didn’t continue to leave “why aren’t you calling me” voice-mails. I certainly never showed up at their homes unannounced waiting to spring on them.
These women with all the baggage, when I stopped calling back, they too acted like my nutbar of a friend. They continued to call, leaving messages of pain, angst and wonder. They didn’t show up unannounced at my door, but one of them did leave me a rather odd letter in my mailbox, telling me she loved me, and wanted to make things work. I still wonder how she could have fallen in love with me after only a couple of dates.
It took a while, but eventually these women stopped calling. Took a long time, and there were moments where I wondered if I could ever live in peace without their constant pestering. But eventually they got the message.
I’m hoping that this letter is the last attempt of Mr. Creepy’s to get in touch with me. He’s got the message, and he doesn’t like it. Now it is up to him to get over it and move on.
People with issues often take time to clue into reality. Hopefully he’ll get over his issues, so that reality doesn’t completely leave him – otherwise he’ll really go crazy one day. I think the term is “postal.”
I don’t wish any harm on him – but I do hope he gets professional psychological help soon. He really needs it.
When I first moved into my apartment a year ago, the guy a few apartments down from mine came over to say hi and introduce himself. I thought it was a nice gesture and it is good to know one’s neighbors.
He soon began approaching me often, to hang out, and talk. He was trying to be my friend. I thought that was nice, and tried to be his friend too.
We hung out, went out to bars and restaurants occasionally, he even met my immediate family and some friends. Things were okay, though he seemed to have a few oddities about him. But hey, none of us are completely normal, so I let it slide.
Some of his odd character traits were even impressive – wherever we went, he managed to chat up some member of the opposite sex. He is single, and he was hitting on these women – and he even showed some progress. Although he never got any serious dates out of these conversations, he did make these women smile and laugh, which isn’t all that bad.
Still, he had some oddball ideas, which were all the more scary because he was serious in these ideas. One idea he had, was for me to sell my unused parking spot to someone else to make money. Obviously, this is wrong and I didn’t do it – it isn’t my parking spot to sell, not to mention it would give some stranger access to our building. Still, this character was quite serious in this endeavor – he even had some one lined up for me to sell my parking spot too.
Another brainchild of his was to join him at work. He took a job in some call center, working for not even half what I make in my daily job. He said I should give him a resume and join him – it was fun and easy work.
I did some call center work years ago and never liked it. They pay crap, treat their staff like crap, and most people who work in call centers get out of it as fast as they go in. The turn-over in those jobs is outrageously high, mainly because it just isn’t a nice normal nine to five gig. Call centers usually try to catch people when they are at home, so the hours are usually when most people are at home. Which means the hours of work are usually when your friends and family are free, so if you work in a call center, you never get to see them – because you are working.
Most call center jobs are held by teenagers, the college or university students, or the working poor. So, if you’re over 25 and you work in a call center, chances are you have skipped out on any chances of having a productive life – because you are the working poor.
So, naturally, I despise call centers and would never work in them again. I didn’t voice my distain for call centers with my friend, as he seemed to really enjoy his job, but I did make it clear I wasn’t interested.
Now, if he was a friend, he should have accepted my answer. Nope, he kept on selling his job, and asking me to give him a resume. I kept telling him no thanks – I think it is great that he loves his job so much, but I just wasn’t interested.
For a whole month, every time I’d run into him, he’d ask me for a resume. He sometimes even seemed mad. A couple times he told me “I don’t see why you just don’t give me a resume.” Why should I give someone a resume for a job I am not interested in?
This went on for a month. I started to avoid him as I really didn’t want to get into another discussion about why I wasn’t going to give him a resume. The situation got so bad, I even asked a group of strangers on an online community what to do. Imagine asking strangers how to handle someone who claims to be your friend.
Then, one day, he comes on over – unannounced as always – and tells me things aren’t going so great at work. They are starting to put pressure on him to make more calls and it is starting to get to him. I am relieved, as now I will not be hounding me to hand in a resume.
I think the issue is done, and let him in, to join me and my brother. We watched a movie on the movie network, had some cake, talked, and joked around. It was nice.
Then he asked me for money.
He didn’t ask for a lot of money – only $40. It isn’t the money that bugs me -- $40 isn’t much, you can’t even buy much these days for $40. It is more the type of person he is – needy. Too needy.
I moved into my place a year ago this month – so I have known this person a whole year already. In all that time, he has never been stable financially. He has gone from one McJob to another, trying desperately to make ends meet.
In many ways I feel for him – I do. But in many others I really can’t stand him. If I knew him for many years, and he just happened to have a bad one, fine, I’d understand. But I only have known him for a year, and he has never demonstrated the potential to be anything to anyone in all that time. He’s been living off the kindness of his friends, because he hasn’t had a real job.
It is okay – even understandable – to struggle your first few years out on your own. But I’ve been living on my own for quite some time. I have gone through some rough periods where I wondered where my next pay cheque would come from. But I have always bounced back – managing to get work in my field.
I distance myself from those who mooch off others because eventually they will mooch off of me. I can’t afford to pay for someone else’s life – I have my own to lead.
So, I started to distance myself from this person. I stopped returning his calls, never answered the door when he came over, and essentially avoided him at all costs.
He creeped me out. He made me feel uncomfortable with his hairbrain borderline legal scams, his pathetically desperate attempts at getting a date, and his continuous griping about how he’s always in debt, can never afford something as basic as going out for drinks, and is always working to make ends meet.
I had enough of this, so I cut him off.
Then, oddly, I started getting calls on my cell from PRIVATE. I don’t know anyone named PRIVATE. Yesterday, PRIVATE left me a message. It was Mr. Creepy, telling me that he’s been busy too, but as still made the effort to call, the least I could do is the same. I’ve been avoiding Mr. Creepy now for a month – you’d figure most normal people would get the message and say “his loss” and move on.
Not Mr. Creepy – I had my parents over for dinner tonight, and he kept banging on the door for a couple of minutes. I had to tell my parents this whole tale and my mom agreed with me – she said he was creepy. Then he slid a note through my mail slot.
Hallelujah! Finally this nutbar gets the message. Maybe he’ll leave me alone and move on. Took him long enough – only a whole month of nagging voice-mails, uninvited interruptions to my life at my door.
I didn’t read it, my mom did and she told me he was “bad news” and sounds like he’s “trouble.” The note just said that he’s been trying to talk to me, and he thinks I have been avoiding him because of his request for $40. He wants an explanation, but if I don’t call him soon, he’ll just not consider me a friend.
I remember a couple women I dated years ago (at separate times obviously) that followed the same path after our breakup. These women had some nasty run-ins with men. One had been cheated on, and mentally and physically abused, the other had all those things, and she was also raped by a past boyfriend.
So, these women had some baggage, that I thought wouldn’t affect our relationship, so I tried to date them anyways. It didn’t work in either case, and after a couple of dates, I just stopped talking to them. We never got serious, and it was only a couple of dates. Normally, the standard approach to ending the “relationship” was avoidance.
It happened to me on the odd occasion, where I’d go out with a woman, and after a while, she just never called back. Although I felt sad, and wondered why, I took the hint and moved on with my life. I didn’t continue to leave “why aren’t you calling me” voice-mails. I certainly never showed up at their homes unannounced waiting to spring on them.
These women with all the baggage, when I stopped calling back, they too acted like my nutbar of a friend. They continued to call, leaving messages of pain, angst and wonder. They didn’t show up unannounced at my door, but one of them did leave me a rather odd letter in my mailbox, telling me she loved me, and wanted to make things work. I still wonder how she could have fallen in love with me after only a couple of dates.
It took a while, but eventually these women stopped calling. Took a long time, and there were moments where I wondered if I could ever live in peace without their constant pestering. But eventually they got the message.
I’m hoping that this letter is the last attempt of Mr. Creepy’s to get in touch with me. He’s got the message, and he doesn’t like it. Now it is up to him to get over it and move on.
People with issues often take time to clue into reality. Hopefully he’ll get over his issues, so that reality doesn’t completely leave him – otherwise he’ll really go crazy one day. I think the term is “postal.”
I don’t wish any harm on him – but I do hope he gets professional psychological help soon. He really needs it.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Homework – Or Working From Home
As a consultant, I usually go to my client’s site and work with them in their offices. It involves a lot of traveling all over, from client site to client site, but I get to see how many different companies operate.
Some companies are very corporate, with people in suits and ties, then there are others where blue jeans are the workwear of the office. Some companies have big huge entrance ways, with big reception desks, colorful cafeterias, and warm colors in the halls. Others are dingy, dark and everyone has their teeny-tiny cubicle to hide in while doing their work.
One of my current contracts is a work-from-home gig. This isn’t the first time I have worked from home, but it has been a while. I don’t usually like working from home, I like to separate work life from personal home life. When you work at home, it is all to easy to allow your personal life to invade your work life and vice versa.
Still, there are some advantages to working from home. Although I have a 9am conference call tomorrow, I don’t have to get up extra early to beat rush hour – I’m already at the office when I wake up in the morning. I don’t even have to shower or shave – who’s going to know what I look like at home, while I’m on the phone?
I can take real lunch breaks. Often while working on-site, it is almost impossible to take a full hour-long lunch, as everyone is so busy they just work through lunch. Not when you work from home – I can take the time to cook myself a real meal, and sit down and enjoy it.
That’s another benefit to working from home – home cooking. I do take my lunch to client sites, but often the temptation to eat out is so great, I’ll grab some fast food, or if there is time, go to a sit-in restaurant. Eating out is fun, but can add up if you do it often. And it is nice to cook your own food fresh.
There are some downsides I’m finding to working from home. The big one is I use my own materials to do the work. My own paper spools out of the printer, my own telephone lines to make long distance calls, my own ink cartridges and so on.
But these costs are either expensed to my client, or added into my hourly rate upon calculation of my week’s work. So I make them back – sort of. I still have to go out and buy paper, ink and other supplies, to replace the ones I have used.
It is actually kind of nice working from home. There is none of that office politics to put up with, none of the water cooler gossip, and I don’t have to worry about what I look like while I work – I can type out my work while in nothing more than undies and socks.
Comfy and cozy at the office never had it so good.
Some companies are very corporate, with people in suits and ties, then there are others where blue jeans are the workwear of the office. Some companies have big huge entrance ways, with big reception desks, colorful cafeterias, and warm colors in the halls. Others are dingy, dark and everyone has their teeny-tiny cubicle to hide in while doing their work.
One of my current contracts is a work-from-home gig. This isn’t the first time I have worked from home, but it has been a while. I don’t usually like working from home, I like to separate work life from personal home life. When you work at home, it is all to easy to allow your personal life to invade your work life and vice versa.
Still, there are some advantages to working from home. Although I have a 9am conference call tomorrow, I don’t have to get up extra early to beat rush hour – I’m already at the office when I wake up in the morning. I don’t even have to shower or shave – who’s going to know what I look like at home, while I’m on the phone?
I can take real lunch breaks. Often while working on-site, it is almost impossible to take a full hour-long lunch, as everyone is so busy they just work through lunch. Not when you work from home – I can take the time to cook myself a real meal, and sit down and enjoy it.
That’s another benefit to working from home – home cooking. I do take my lunch to client sites, but often the temptation to eat out is so great, I’ll grab some fast food, or if there is time, go to a sit-in restaurant. Eating out is fun, but can add up if you do it often. And it is nice to cook your own food fresh.
There are some downsides I’m finding to working from home. The big one is I use my own materials to do the work. My own paper spools out of the printer, my own telephone lines to make long distance calls, my own ink cartridges and so on.
But these costs are either expensed to my client, or added into my hourly rate upon calculation of my week’s work. So I make them back – sort of. I still have to go out and buy paper, ink and other supplies, to replace the ones I have used.
It is actually kind of nice working from home. There is none of that office politics to put up with, none of the water cooler gossip, and I don’t have to worry about what I look like while I work – I can type out my work while in nothing more than undies and socks.
Comfy and cozy at the office never had it so good.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Gobble Gobble Gobble
This is the Thanksgiving weekend, and even if you don’t celebrate the religious aspects of the holiday, chances are you will encounter some turkey, somewhere.
Turkeys abound this time of year.
Like the seemingly sweet little old lady that ran into me with her shopping cart while I was out grocery shopping. She did not say she was sorry, she didn’t say anything at all. She just kept on walking by, as if nothing had happened.
Then there are door-to-door sales people. I often wonder how they get into my access-controlled apartment building. You need a toggle passkey to open any outside doors to get in. And there is a clear sign telling people “No Solicitors” – but I guess if you have to go door-to-door to sell your crap, you can’t be all that intelligent. Never heard of Ford, GM, Microsoft or any of the other big names in business selling their stuff door-to-door. Imagine buying a car from some door-to-door salesperson?
Even in my own building, there are some turkeys living here. When I go to do laundry, there is this one woman, who uses ALL the machines at the same time. There must be at least 20 washing machines and the same number of dryers, yet this woman is always using all of ‘em. I can’t for the life of me figure out how many people she has in her apartment, but it must be a lot to generate that many dirty clothes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon,” she often says when she sees me looking at all the taken machines. I’d like to put her head on the block, and chop it off – just like a turkey.
Oh well, at least the turkey I’m making tomorrow won’t have any bite to it. I enjoy cooking and I make a good turkey dinner. There will be turkey, stuffing, roasted potatoes, cranberry sauce and of course desert. Can’t forget the desert – I got a fresh honey crumble apple pie. Mmm . . . I can taste it now.
The best part about cooking up a turkey dinner is the smell – my whole home smells like turkey for most of the day and into the week. And then of course, there are leftovers – turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey smoothies. . .
Maybe leftovers go too far . . .
Happy Turkey Day!
Turkeys abound this time of year.
Like the seemingly sweet little old lady that ran into me with her shopping cart while I was out grocery shopping. She did not say she was sorry, she didn’t say anything at all. She just kept on walking by, as if nothing had happened.
Then there are door-to-door sales people. I often wonder how they get into my access-controlled apartment building. You need a toggle passkey to open any outside doors to get in. And there is a clear sign telling people “No Solicitors” – but I guess if you have to go door-to-door to sell your crap, you can’t be all that intelligent. Never heard of Ford, GM, Microsoft or any of the other big names in business selling their stuff door-to-door. Imagine buying a car from some door-to-door salesperson?
Even in my own building, there are some turkeys living here. When I go to do laundry, there is this one woman, who uses ALL the machines at the same time. There must be at least 20 washing machines and the same number of dryers, yet this woman is always using all of ‘em. I can’t for the life of me figure out how many people she has in her apartment, but it must be a lot to generate that many dirty clothes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon,” she often says when she sees me looking at all the taken machines. I’d like to put her head on the block, and chop it off – just like a turkey.
Oh well, at least the turkey I’m making tomorrow won’t have any bite to it. I enjoy cooking and I make a good turkey dinner. There will be turkey, stuffing, roasted potatoes, cranberry sauce and of course desert. Can’t forget the desert – I got a fresh honey crumble apple pie. Mmm . . . I can taste it now.
The best part about cooking up a turkey dinner is the smell – my whole home smells like turkey for most of the day and into the week. And then of course, there are leftovers – turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey smoothies. . .
Maybe leftovers go too far . . .
Happy Turkey Day!
Friday, October 06, 2006
Pizza Hangouts
I went to my local pizza shop to grab a couple slices for dinner today. Often it is busy, like it was tonight. But most of the people weren’t there for the pizza, they were there to hang out.
Teenagers often hang out at malls, donut shops and fast food places like, pizza parlors. But, these people weren’t teenagers – they were young moms with their noisy little bratty kids.
I just wanted a couple of slices to quash my hunger. Instead, I had to wade through a mountain of baby strollers, toys tossed everywhere, clothes on the floor, and don’t forget to watch out for kids running around into unsuspecting people.
The kid was stunned, I was upset, the mom just laughed and went back to eating her pizza.
I’m thinking to myself – how are these kids ever going to learn right from wrong if their parents don’t teach them?
I thought about giving the kid a quick boot the head – I was wearing my heavy boots at the time. However, I decided against it, I just wanted a couple of slices, not to go to jail.
So, I kicked a couple toys out of my way as I walked to a table, sat and ate my slices.
The kids kept running around, screaming, making like the pizza shop was their own personal play land. The moms didn’t seem to mind. But those working at the place and most of the customers seemed annoyed.
Then the unthinkable happened. More moms with strollers and kids and toys and all the other junk mothers bring with their kids – more of this crap walked into the pizza shop.
The place was already crowded, but now it was just plain full. There was no more floor space – all the real estate was taken with kids, toys, strollers and more clothes on the floor.
What a freaking mess. I’d hate to see what one of these kid’s homes actually looked like, because if this place had been made a mess in the short time they were there, imagine how much of a bigger mess they can make where they live?
Eventually, the pressure must have come from somewhere – thankfully – because the manger came out and politely asked these moms to take their kids home. He told her that this really wasn’t the place for them to play, and they had been here a couple of hours already.
A couple of hours already!?!?!?
SHEESH!
Don’t these people have homes? Who spends a couple of hours in a greasy-spoon pizza house?
One of the mom’s got mad at the manager. She told him where he could stick his pizza, right in front of all those kids. She said she had paid for her food and was going to enjoy it.
Yeah, I could see her enjoy it – so much so that she didn’t have the time to tend to her little brats. Though I’m guessing that was the whole idea. I bet the moms brought their kids to the pizza place intentionally to relax, and let the pizza place take care of them for a while.
Though pizza places don’t generally offer babysitting services.
The manager then got tough – good for him. He told her if they didn’t leave, he was going to call the police.
“Call the police! Go ahead and call them, see if I care” – that’s what she yelled back. So, he calmly went back to the counter, picked up the phone and started dialing.
The moms quickly gathered up their crap – I mean kids – and hustled out the door.
I don’t know if the manager actually called the cops, maybe he didn’t even dial any number at all. But his trick worked.
So, the next time you want to get rid of someone else’s problem – just pick up the phone.
Teenagers often hang out at malls, donut shops and fast food places like, pizza parlors. But, these people weren’t teenagers – they were young moms with their noisy little bratty kids.
I just wanted a couple of slices to quash my hunger. Instead, I had to wade through a mountain of baby strollers, toys tossed everywhere, clothes on the floor, and don’t forget to watch out for kids running around into unsuspecting people.
The kid was stunned, I was upset, the mom just laughed and went back to eating her pizza.
I’m thinking to myself – how are these kids ever going to learn right from wrong if their parents don’t teach them?
I thought about giving the kid a quick boot the head – I was wearing my heavy boots at the time. However, I decided against it, I just wanted a couple of slices, not to go to jail.
So, I kicked a couple toys out of my way as I walked to a table, sat and ate my slices.
The kids kept running around, screaming, making like the pizza shop was their own personal play land. The moms didn’t seem to mind. But those working at the place and most of the customers seemed annoyed.
Then the unthinkable happened. More moms with strollers and kids and toys and all the other junk mothers bring with their kids – more of this crap walked into the pizza shop.
The place was already crowded, but now it was just plain full. There was no more floor space – all the real estate was taken with kids, toys, strollers and more clothes on the floor.
What a freaking mess. I’d hate to see what one of these kid’s homes actually looked like, because if this place had been made a mess in the short time they were there, imagine how much of a bigger mess they can make where they live?
Eventually, the pressure must have come from somewhere – thankfully – because the manger came out and politely asked these moms to take their kids home. He told her that this really wasn’t the place for them to play, and they had been here a couple of hours already.
A couple of hours already!?!?!?
SHEESH!
Don’t these people have homes? Who spends a couple of hours in a greasy-spoon pizza house?
One of the mom’s got mad at the manager. She told him where he could stick his pizza, right in front of all those kids. She said she had paid for her food and was going to enjoy it.
Yeah, I could see her enjoy it – so much so that she didn’t have the time to tend to her little brats. Though I’m guessing that was the whole idea. I bet the moms brought their kids to the pizza place intentionally to relax, and let the pizza place take care of them for a while.
Though pizza places don’t generally offer babysitting services.
The manager then got tough – good for him. He told her if they didn’t leave, he was going to call the police.
“Call the police! Go ahead and call them, see if I care” – that’s what she yelled back. So, he calmly went back to the counter, picked up the phone and started dialing.
The moms quickly gathered up their crap – I mean kids – and hustled out the door.
I don’t know if the manager actually called the cops, maybe he didn’t even dial any number at all. But his trick worked.
So, the next time you want to get rid of someone else’s problem – just pick up the phone.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
One Language Isn’t For All
In the laundry room of my building there is a bulletin board where people living in the building can post various articles for sale.
Often, when people move out, there are great deals on furniture, cookware, electronics, computers and other things people have no use for anymore.
When I do my laundry, I always check out the board. I’ve never bought anything off of it, but you never know unless you look.
There was a sign that caught my interest. Not for what it had to offer. I didn’t know what it said. That is why it caught my interest, because it deeply offended me.
The sign was written exclusively in Chinese.
Now, living in Canada where the official languages are English and French – not Chinese – I was offended. I understand that there are Chinese-speaking people that live here, so it is okay to have Chinese on the sign. But to ONLY have Chinese on the sign, rudely excludes everyone else in this country who don’t read Chinese.
One of the great things Canada is known for is our acceptance of other cultures. We don’t stop people at the border and tell them they can’t practice their culture. We openly welcome other cultures into our Canadian mix – that is who we are – or as it appears today – were.
This mixing of cultures the world over has created who we are as Canadians. You can get authentic Greek, Italian, French, Romanian and Chinese food here. You see people wearing clothing which is customary of their culture. You hear people speaking their language on our streets. This is Canada.
But the problem occurs when people come here and fail to recognize that although we like learning about their culture, they have to accept the Canadian way of life and learn about being Canadian.
Far too many people come to Canada, become Canadian citizens even, yet they do not speak either of our two official languages. This is an embarrassment to our country, and has made living here all the harder.
Imagine, feeling like an outsider, a tourist, in your own country. That’s how I feel sometimes, when I see signs all in some foreign language, or I’m told by the shop-keeper’s daughter that she has to translate, because her mother doesn’t speak anything but Korean.
The problem is growing. These embarrassments to Canada don’t care that they don’t “fit in” with the rest of the country. Hell, they don’t seem to know they left their home country to have a life here. Instead, they set-up their own communities, small pockets of their hometown, where they can get by without speaking either of the official languages of the once great country they have decided to call home.
They create their own shops, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, even their own banks, phone companies, and other businesses, all so that they feel at home here – without really ever making a true Canadian home.
Canada’s immigration policies are to blame for this. Becoming a Canadian citizen should be a lot harder than answering a multiple-choice questionnaire, undergoing some health exams, and checking into a person’s past. In order to become a Canadian citizen, the government should make it a law that everyone must be fluent in at least one of our two national languages of English or French. Those that do not pass our language tests don’t get to stay here and enjoy the freedoms of our wonderful Canadian society.
That is the way it should be. It isn’t racist to expect someone who wants to call another country home, to be able to read, write, speak and understand that other country’s languages. This is the way it is in most countries around the world – except Canada.
Why is that?
I think our Canadian government is too politically correct and weak to impose the laws which most Canadian-born Canadians would openly welcome.
I just hope our pussy federal government comes to grips with reality soon – or we could end up with a prime minister that doesn’t speak either official languages. Could you imagine our prime minister needing a translator to translate what the opposition parties are saying? Or worse, just not caring about true Canadian values, and those that don’t speak whatever foreign language he speaks are just out of luck.
It could happen – if we don’t act soon.
Often, when people move out, there are great deals on furniture, cookware, electronics, computers and other things people have no use for anymore.
When I do my laundry, I always check out the board. I’ve never bought anything off of it, but you never know unless you look.
There was a sign that caught my interest. Not for what it had to offer. I didn’t know what it said. That is why it caught my interest, because it deeply offended me.
The sign was written exclusively in Chinese.
Now, living in Canada where the official languages are English and French – not Chinese – I was offended. I understand that there are Chinese-speaking people that live here, so it is okay to have Chinese on the sign. But to ONLY have Chinese on the sign, rudely excludes everyone else in this country who don’t read Chinese.
One of the great things Canada is known for is our acceptance of other cultures. We don’t stop people at the border and tell them they can’t practice their culture. We openly welcome other cultures into our Canadian mix – that is who we are – or as it appears today – were.
This mixing of cultures the world over has created who we are as Canadians. You can get authentic Greek, Italian, French, Romanian and Chinese food here. You see people wearing clothing which is customary of their culture. You hear people speaking their language on our streets. This is Canada.
But the problem occurs when people come here and fail to recognize that although we like learning about their culture, they have to accept the Canadian way of life and learn about being Canadian.
Far too many people come to Canada, become Canadian citizens even, yet they do not speak either of our two official languages. This is an embarrassment to our country, and has made living here all the harder.
Imagine, feeling like an outsider, a tourist, in your own country. That’s how I feel sometimes, when I see signs all in some foreign language, or I’m told by the shop-keeper’s daughter that she has to translate, because her mother doesn’t speak anything but Korean.
The problem is growing. These embarrassments to Canada don’t care that they don’t “fit in” with the rest of the country. Hell, they don’t seem to know they left their home country to have a life here. Instead, they set-up their own communities, small pockets of their hometown, where they can get by without speaking either of the official languages of the once great country they have decided to call home.
They create their own shops, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, even their own banks, phone companies, and other businesses, all so that they feel at home here – without really ever making a true Canadian home.
Canada’s immigration policies are to blame for this. Becoming a Canadian citizen should be a lot harder than answering a multiple-choice questionnaire, undergoing some health exams, and checking into a person’s past. In order to become a Canadian citizen, the government should make it a law that everyone must be fluent in at least one of our two national languages of English or French. Those that do not pass our language tests don’t get to stay here and enjoy the freedoms of our wonderful Canadian society.
That is the way it should be. It isn’t racist to expect someone who wants to call another country home, to be able to read, write, speak and understand that other country’s languages. This is the way it is in most countries around the world – except Canada.
Why is that?
I think our Canadian government is too politically correct and weak to impose the laws which most Canadian-born Canadians would openly welcome.
I just hope our pussy federal government comes to grips with reality soon – or we could end up with a prime minister that doesn’t speak either official languages. Could you imagine our prime minister needing a translator to translate what the opposition parties are saying? Or worse, just not caring about true Canadian values, and those that don’t speak whatever foreign language he speaks are just out of luck.
It could happen – if we don’t act soon.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Suit & Tie Not For Me
On television and in the media you see people in suits and ties all the time. However, most people these days only wear suits and ties to formal functions, rarely to work environments.
I went to one potential client site a while back and was grateful for NOT wearing a suit and tie – the person who I had the meeting with was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans! Not only that, his t-shirt had a fist, with the middle finger extended and the letters “FU” on either side of the “bird” finger. Hardly what I thought was proper in a business environment.
Clearly, some dress styles are just too lax for the office. I’ve worked in offices where people wear blue jeans, and it always seems too comfy to be work. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but blue jeans are only for Fridays, which is commonly called ‘casual Friday.’
Suits and ties are uncomfortable at best. The material is usually quite thin, and provides no protection from the outside elements. Even when you bulk-up with winter overcoats, scarves, mitts and a toque, suits are so drafty that somewhere the cold creeps in, causing no end to grief.
Ties have their own potential wardrobe malfunctions. If you don’t swing your tie up over your shoulder before going to the bathroom, it could easily find itself in the sink, or worse, the toilet. That’s not water on that tie. . .
Ties also can present a choking or a blinding hazard. On windy days, ties blow up and into one’s face. I’ve had my tie blow up and cover my eyes, while crossing major intersections. Definitely a dangerous situation – caused by something as simple as a neck tie. While eating, ties can get stuck in your food, not only making a mess of your meal and tie, but causing great embarrassment to those around you. Occasionally, while sitting outside on a patio enjoying a fine meal, a tie can blow-up into your mouth. Although I have never heard of anyone choking on their tie, it probably has happened somewhere.
I’m glad the dress code for most offices these days is business casual. A nice pair of casual pants, a button-down shirt with a collar, and comfy shoes. That’s my kind of work-wear.
Still there are offices where a suit and tie are the norm. These offices just are too stuck-up for my taste. If I go to a potential client’s site and they are wearing suits and ties, I’ll still be in my cozy and comfy business casuals. Why?
Most people spend most of their lives at work. Think about it – on average people work eight-hours per day, five-days per week. While on weekends you only usually have two whole days to relax. So, you might as well be comfortable while working all those hours and days, otherwise your work may not be to standard.
If you are constantly adjusting your tie, jacket, pants, belt or any of a zillion other things on your person, chances are you are spending more time worrying about trying to get comfortable, than doing your job.
I don’t mind wearing a suit and tie occasionally for special occasions. But in a work environment, I find the constant need to adjust my tie, make sure my jacket is on right, keep the collar tight and other suit and tie “things” a distraction from my job.
So, from now on, when I go to potential work sites I will be in business casual. If the potential client site is all suit and ties, then that worksite is just not for me.
Ahhhh . . . comfortable work clothes at last!
I went to one potential client site a while back and was grateful for NOT wearing a suit and tie – the person who I had the meeting with was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans! Not only that, his t-shirt had a fist, with the middle finger extended and the letters “FU” on either side of the “bird” finger. Hardly what I thought was proper in a business environment.
Clearly, some dress styles are just too lax for the office. I’ve worked in offices where people wear blue jeans, and it always seems too comfy to be work. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but blue jeans are only for Fridays, which is commonly called ‘casual Friday.’
Suits and ties are uncomfortable at best. The material is usually quite thin, and provides no protection from the outside elements. Even when you bulk-up with winter overcoats, scarves, mitts and a toque, suits are so drafty that somewhere the cold creeps in, causing no end to grief.
Ties have their own potential wardrobe malfunctions. If you don’t swing your tie up over your shoulder before going to the bathroom, it could easily find itself in the sink, or worse, the toilet. That’s not water on that tie. . .
Ties also can present a choking or a blinding hazard. On windy days, ties blow up and into one’s face. I’ve had my tie blow up and cover my eyes, while crossing major intersections. Definitely a dangerous situation – caused by something as simple as a neck tie. While eating, ties can get stuck in your food, not only making a mess of your meal and tie, but causing great embarrassment to those around you. Occasionally, while sitting outside on a patio enjoying a fine meal, a tie can blow-up into your mouth. Although I have never heard of anyone choking on their tie, it probably has happened somewhere.
I’m glad the dress code for most offices these days is business casual. A nice pair of casual pants, a button-down shirt with a collar, and comfy shoes. That’s my kind of work-wear.
Still there are offices where a suit and tie are the norm. These offices just are too stuck-up for my taste. If I go to a potential client’s site and they are wearing suits and ties, I’ll still be in my cozy and comfy business casuals. Why?
Most people spend most of their lives at work. Think about it – on average people work eight-hours per day, five-days per week. While on weekends you only usually have two whole days to relax. So, you might as well be comfortable while working all those hours and days, otherwise your work may not be to standard.
If you are constantly adjusting your tie, jacket, pants, belt or any of a zillion other things on your person, chances are you are spending more time worrying about trying to get comfortable, than doing your job.
I don’t mind wearing a suit and tie occasionally for special occasions. But in a work environment, I find the constant need to adjust my tie, make sure my jacket is on right, keep the collar tight and other suit and tie “things” a distraction from my job.
So, from now on, when I go to potential work sites I will be in business casual. If the potential client site is all suit and ties, then that worksite is just not for me.
Ahhhh . . . comfortable work clothes at last!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Women in a Man’s World
Why is it whenever I have to work with women in senior executive positions, they always try to act like men?
I know the world of work used to be – past tense – used to be dominated by men. But these days – hell since the 1980’s even – women and men work equally well together in business and commerce.
Still, whenever I have to meet with a woman CEO, she puts on a defiant posture, and is evasive and abusive towards me and the other men in the room. This isn’t really acting like a man, because if men CEOs did this in business, then there wouldn’t be any business at all.
It always amazes me how women CEOs act – and even more amazes me that their companies are still in business because of the way they act.
I had a meeting today with just such a CEO – a woman. One of the first questions she tossed out at me was “are you married? Do you have any kids?”
Oh boy – I knew instantly that this was going to be a long, dreadful meeting with that line of questioning. I never asked her if she was married with children – I don’t care. Whether you have a wife, a husband, a boyfriend, a girlfriend, children of your own or kids from a previous encounter – none of these things are relevant in today’s business world.
Though it is interesting to point out, as most women CEOs go, they don’t have a hubby and kids. Neither did the female CEO I met with today. They spend all their waking and sleeping hours working. Seriously – they work every day – even on weekends, and they rarely sleep. And when they do sleep, they dream about work – so it is almost like working.
Now I know what you’re thinking – how do I know so much about the life of a female CEO?
Well, every encounter with any CEO that happens to be a woman that I have ever had, has had some similar line of chatter at the start of the meeting.
Usually at the beginning of all meetings there is some small talk, to make everyone feel welcome. Small talk about the weather, traffic, something in the news – anything – unless the meeting is with a female CEO.
Female CEO’s must feel challenged in the male world – even though it isn’t a male world any longer – as all meetings – ALL meetings – I have ever had with a woman CEO present have revolved around the same small talk. This small talk always starts off with the female CEO asking one of the men – usually the most powerful one in the room, say another CEO, or president – if they have a wife and kids. Regardless of that person’s answer, the female CEO always smiles and gloats about how they are single and have never had any children, so they can concentrate all their hours on work – days, nights, weekends. Most female CEOs brag about working 24/7 even though most of us would rather die a painful death, than be tormented with work none stop.
Now not all of us want kids, but it is interesting to note how all female CEOs that I have dealt with – and I’ve had the honor of dealing with quite a few – have always been happy to be single, never married, and to never have had any children.
I guess these poor souls feel in order to compete with men in the business world, they have to be available at all hours of the day and night.
Odd thing though, most men who run their own businesses – myself included – value highly our free time. I don’t want to work 24-hours-a-day, seven days per week – that is a sure fire way to get a coronary. I work hard, but I also enjoy cutting lose, and taking it easy on weekends. I love being able to spend quality time with my friends and family. No, I am not married and I have no kids, but I have a family none-the-same. I have my parents over almost every weekend for dinner. I see my brother too, and then I have my friends too. I’d be lost without the free time to relax and enjoy these individuals company.
Not to the women CEO – they still believe they have to “stick it to the man” so that they can be as good or better than any man in a similar role.
I always cringe when I have to deal with a female CEO. Not because they are any less capable of doing the job, but because they all have chips on their shoulder telling them that us men are the enemy.
Why can’t women CEOs be more like us men, and accept anyone – male or female – in business?
I know the world of work used to be – past tense – used to be dominated by men. But these days – hell since the 1980’s even – women and men work equally well together in business and commerce.
Still, whenever I have to meet with a woman CEO, she puts on a defiant posture, and is evasive and abusive towards me and the other men in the room. This isn’t really acting like a man, because if men CEOs did this in business, then there wouldn’t be any business at all.
It always amazes me how women CEOs act – and even more amazes me that their companies are still in business because of the way they act.
I had a meeting today with just such a CEO – a woman. One of the first questions she tossed out at me was “are you married? Do you have any kids?”
Oh boy – I knew instantly that this was going to be a long, dreadful meeting with that line of questioning. I never asked her if she was married with children – I don’t care. Whether you have a wife, a husband, a boyfriend, a girlfriend, children of your own or kids from a previous encounter – none of these things are relevant in today’s business world.
Though it is interesting to point out, as most women CEOs go, they don’t have a hubby and kids. Neither did the female CEO I met with today. They spend all their waking and sleeping hours working. Seriously – they work every day – even on weekends, and they rarely sleep. And when they do sleep, they dream about work – so it is almost like working.
Now I know what you’re thinking – how do I know so much about the life of a female CEO?
Well, every encounter with any CEO that happens to be a woman that I have ever had, has had some similar line of chatter at the start of the meeting.
Usually at the beginning of all meetings there is some small talk, to make everyone feel welcome. Small talk about the weather, traffic, something in the news – anything – unless the meeting is with a female CEO.
Female CEO’s must feel challenged in the male world – even though it isn’t a male world any longer – as all meetings – ALL meetings – I have ever had with a woman CEO present have revolved around the same small talk. This small talk always starts off with the female CEO asking one of the men – usually the most powerful one in the room, say another CEO, or president – if they have a wife and kids. Regardless of that person’s answer, the female CEO always smiles and gloats about how they are single and have never had any children, so they can concentrate all their hours on work – days, nights, weekends. Most female CEOs brag about working 24/7 even though most of us would rather die a painful death, than be tormented with work none stop.
Now not all of us want kids, but it is interesting to note how all female CEOs that I have dealt with – and I’ve had the honor of dealing with quite a few – have always been happy to be single, never married, and to never have had any children.
I guess these poor souls feel in order to compete with men in the business world, they have to be available at all hours of the day and night.
Odd thing though, most men who run their own businesses – myself included – value highly our free time. I don’t want to work 24-hours-a-day, seven days per week – that is a sure fire way to get a coronary. I work hard, but I also enjoy cutting lose, and taking it easy on weekends. I love being able to spend quality time with my friends and family. No, I am not married and I have no kids, but I have a family none-the-same. I have my parents over almost every weekend for dinner. I see my brother too, and then I have my friends too. I’d be lost without the free time to relax and enjoy these individuals company.
Not to the women CEO – they still believe they have to “stick it to the man” so that they can be as good or better than any man in a similar role.
I always cringe when I have to deal with a female CEO. Not because they are any less capable of doing the job, but because they all have chips on their shoulder telling them that us men are the enemy.
Why can’t women CEOs be more like us men, and accept anyone – male or female – in business?
Sunday, October 01, 2006
My Hallway Gives Me the Munchies
Walking throughout the halls of my apartment building, I can often smell different things going on in the building.
I can smell good old fashioned home-cooking, fast food smells like McDonalds and KFC, even the pleasantly alluring aroma’s of women’s perfume.
Those are the smells in all hallways except for mine of course. My hallway seems to always smell of marijuana. Pot – that is what my hallway smells like, which is odd, because I don’t use the stuff.
The neighbor across the hall is in a wheelchair and never looks well. Maybe he’s got some of that medicinal marijuana to keep the pain down. Then there are the neighbors at the end of the hall. They don’t look to lame to me, yet I have smelled pot emanating from their apartment too – you can’t miss it while waiting for the elevator.
Then there is that weirdo on the other side of the building on my floor. He always wears bright yellow pants, a green baggy top, and a Rastafarian hat from Jamaica. I don’t mean to stereotype, but maybe he does the occasional joint too? Naw.
Yep. I actually caught this weirdo one day committing said crime. I was waiting for the elevator, amidst the aroma’s of pot from the apartment at the end of the hall, when the doors to the elevator fly open, and there is Mr. Weirdo, smoking away. And he wasn’t smoking a cigar or a cigarette either.
Mr. Weirdo quickly placed the still lit joint behind his back, hoping I didn’t say anything. I didn’t – though maybe I should have, I could have sworn his bright yellow pants looked like they were on fire. . .
I don’t care what people do in the privacy of their own homes. That’s their business. But, when it affects me in my home, then it becomes my business. Walking through the hallway smelling pot isn’t pleasant. Nor is it pleasant to smell it in my own apartment – which happens often. These guys must get the good stuff from Vancouver – because often you’d swear I was smoking up in my own place by the smell.
I have thought about mentioning something to the property manager about all the druggies on my floor, but then, what good would come from it? They aren’t the cops, and so they can’t really do anything legal. They could issue a notice telling them that the guy down the hall (me) has complained.
Oooooh I can see the spray-painted graffiti on my door after something like that happens. Don’t want that – I like where I live.
It must sound like I live in some white-trash, Jerry Springer-type poor-house. I don’t – I actually live in a rather up-scale high-rise that is quite well maintained. I just happen to have some rather unique neighbors.
Yeah, that’s the polite way of describing them – unique.
Pass the chips, I have the munchies.
I can smell good old fashioned home-cooking, fast food smells like McDonalds and KFC, even the pleasantly alluring aroma’s of women’s perfume.
Those are the smells in all hallways except for mine of course. My hallway seems to always smell of marijuana. Pot – that is what my hallway smells like, which is odd, because I don’t use the stuff.
The neighbor across the hall is in a wheelchair and never looks well. Maybe he’s got some of that medicinal marijuana to keep the pain down. Then there are the neighbors at the end of the hall. They don’t look to lame to me, yet I have smelled pot emanating from their apartment too – you can’t miss it while waiting for the elevator.
Then there is that weirdo on the other side of the building on my floor. He always wears bright yellow pants, a green baggy top, and a Rastafarian hat from Jamaica. I don’t mean to stereotype, but maybe he does the occasional joint too? Naw.
Yep. I actually caught this weirdo one day committing said crime. I was waiting for the elevator, amidst the aroma’s of pot from the apartment at the end of the hall, when the doors to the elevator fly open, and there is Mr. Weirdo, smoking away. And he wasn’t smoking a cigar or a cigarette either.
Mr. Weirdo quickly placed the still lit joint behind his back, hoping I didn’t say anything. I didn’t – though maybe I should have, I could have sworn his bright yellow pants looked like they were on fire. . .
I don’t care what people do in the privacy of their own homes. That’s their business. But, when it affects me in my home, then it becomes my business. Walking through the hallway smelling pot isn’t pleasant. Nor is it pleasant to smell it in my own apartment – which happens often. These guys must get the good stuff from Vancouver – because often you’d swear I was smoking up in my own place by the smell.
I have thought about mentioning something to the property manager about all the druggies on my floor, but then, what good would come from it? They aren’t the cops, and so they can’t really do anything legal. They could issue a notice telling them that the guy down the hall (me) has complained.
Oooooh I can see the spray-painted graffiti on my door after something like that happens. Don’t want that – I like where I live.
It must sound like I live in some white-trash, Jerry Springer-type poor-house. I don’t – I actually live in a rather up-scale high-rise that is quite well maintained. I just happen to have some rather unique neighbors.
Yeah, that’s the polite way of describing them – unique.
Pass the chips, I have the munchies.
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