Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Remembrance Day

This morning is a hard start.  Hard start refers to an engine that won’t turn over.  It refuses to spark.  I’ve slept in.  First time in months.  Usually I’m in this robotic routine that gets me up and out of the house to work approximately on time.  Thousands of days of work. Thousands of before dawn days.  Today the sun is shining.
I got up and moved to a chair to meditate. My mind wasn’t on God, or Peace or Bliss. I wasn’t ‘mindful’.  I wasn’t even able to focus on prayers.  My soul had attention deficit disorder.  The monkey mind staggering through its various concerns.  Nothing compelling. Just distracting. No energy apparently to focus.  I lack the passion for God. I want my bed instead.
I am the monk who went back to bed.  
I napped on the couch.  Eventually,  the dog, impatient,  climbed all over  me.  I'm a dog mat.  He  licked my face.   Alright, already.
I got up again.  I let mutt out.  It's a crisp day.  He peed,sniffed,looked about and came back in when I called.
I have the day off. A tabala rosa day.  Remembrance Day. November 11.
Remembrance Day.  My father was RCAF.  World War II Royal Canadian Air Force.  Thanks to the sacrifice of the soldiers I’ve lived  a life of relative peace dealing only with self righteous smug and power abusing bureaucrats rather than facing the more judgemental nature of bullets and bombs.  All I have to complain about is the silly grade school officiousness of the stupid and arrogant.  Elsewhere, outside of Canada, children are being killed by random suicide bombers with bad hair and bad attitudes. Mothers and fathers are keening.
I remember my father at the cenotaph.  I was with Laura then.  The RCMP were resplendent in red serge.  Dad was proud to be among his fellow soldiers. He was a west coast bomber in WWII.  He said they  thanked him for bombing a submarine.
“I think it was a whale”, he said. The fog of war.  The humility of my father.
I’m thankful for the privilege of the years working with Veterans Affairs. I saw the old men and women,   heard their stories of being young.   They told me they knew no better than to do as they were told.  They followed orders and nearly died rescuing friends.   It was a hellish time.  They were heroes.  They held their heads high.  They knew the meaning of friendship.  They had solid values. Their houses were built on strong foundations.
Now the veterans I see are more often from forgotten wars of other countries where petty tyrants fought their neighbours, all of it more like medieval jousts with people as peasants.    They saw no glory in their service. Their countries have forgotten them. Regimes have changed.  They escaped.  They live here now.  In Canada.
Here the silly and stupid  forfeit the very rights my father fought for.  The leaders made promises. They've reneged on them now.  They hide behind  the fashion political correctness. They're all up the skirts of girls using them as puppets.
“We’ve aborted more of our own people than the Nazi killed in the war,” she said.  The nihilism of the atheism of our secular age is so in contrast to the robustness of the last generation.   I look around and see the  Germany or Russia of  1930’s.  Except we have shopping malls.  The cathedrals and temples go empty but the parking lots are full.
Dad believed in the working man.  He didn’t know his creed was ‘meritocracy’.  Reward those who work for the common good.  He actually liked the politicians of his day.  Mother celebrated the city leadership.  There was a pride in achievement.  They worried about the greed of their neighbour and were furious about the encroaching taxes. Overall they enjoyed life.  They were  family.
 I was a part of family, still am, even though I fall apart.   It's just the way I'm wired or maybe it comes with my work.   The existential angst.  The scream on a wood cut bridge.  I have some sort of spiritual seizure disorder. I see myself flailing about when everyone else seems a happy cabbage in the happy cabbage patch.
Right now I've attached my discontent to growing old. I could as easily stick it on a political party or a winter season, a lover or just about any fact of life.
Who is that hairy white bearded straggly haired wrinkled thing I see in the mirror.
I don’t think my father wondered at the mirror. His was a more accepting bent.  He complained about the aches and pains of labour but he wasn’t concerned with mirrors. His wasn't a selfie generation.  The facade was critical.  Their generation had the lawns and picket fences. Ours has plastic surgery.  No one is without pretention.  Even the priests like their gold laced robes.
I’ve saved a lot of lives.  I’ve been present and trained for a lot of crisis, emergency and mystery. I’ve repeatedly, thousands of times now ,convinced people not to die, either by cutting out something, physically tying off something, stopping the actual bleeding or starting up the lungs again by thumping on a dozen chests or more.  Sometimes I just took away a bottle of pills, or  hid the knifes. I've been forever convincing people it’s worth it to live.  I've fought morbidity and mortality daily sometimes hourly for 35 years.   I do hope I'm right.
When I die I could meet a whole lot of angry people in paradise hating me for keeping them in their jobs and marriages, paying taxes and supporting the latest liberal regime.  In that personal nightmare of mine it doesn't matter how you got 'there' .  There are no conditions. You just have to get out of 'here'. The babies are the greatest winners in that afterlife. In that dream I'm the greatest evil there is. Satan selling life in this materialist secular Platonic shadow world when over the hill in the promised land, with no conditions. Unconditional love for all. Kill yourself and you still get a harp. Everyone has a personal cloud. There is no hell.  No hell. No purgatory. No loss or grief. But rather you awake in wonder and hate that 'fucking psychiatrist' who kept you chained to misery all those years.  And here I thought I was a saviour when really I was nothing more than a prison guard making sure everyone filled their allotted sentence, my own fear of death, holding others here.
Mostly these days I use all my training in motivation, analysis, hypnosis and pharmaceuticals to convince people to let go of the needle. I counteract the slavery of the pin prick.  It's all in the ritual. The blood letting, the injecting, the heating, the transaction, the sleep, the passion to avoid the pain.  The myth of Sissyphus. And then again the vultures come to pluck at the eyes of another Graecian hero.  They’re as fixated on their self made myths as my dog is fixated on his yellow tennis ball.  Their lives are reduced. Obsessions.  Compulsions.  Addictions. Slaves to the drug dealers.  I ride in on my white pony, more a jack ass, a harley davidson actually. I wrestle the man from the dealers. The dealers are actually kind of  glad to give him up now that they've taken his house, his home, his wife, his kids, his job, his dog, his health. There's so little money and will to live that our struggle for this remnant is ritual itself. They're interested in a new loser. They want a celebrity or a banker, maybe a doctor, or a lawyer, a younger heiress. That's who they'd rather devote their time to. So they let this one go.  I good samaritan him back to wholeness and hope he doesn't look back knowing he'll turn to salt if he does.
And I must reassure myself that I should live each day.  Each day I must reaffirm life. Sometimes many times in the day I must do this.  All day long my office is an argument for defeat.  It’s about suicide or addiction or leaving a marriage or a relationship or getting into another abusive marriage or relationship or not working or working in an abusive relationship with a satyrical boss or becoming a terrorist, or slashing.  Losing direction or faith and not knowing where the detour occurred. I come into the abyss and join the darkness to find you thn hope we  find our way back together.  You bitch and complain all the way and when you get into the light and have the strength to stand on your feet you will curse me forever for taking you out of your rabbit hole. There will be enemies of mine who will join you. Those are the ones whose finances I've affected by criticizing their hypocrisy.   I believe I'm  helping rebuild in a world bent on destruction.  I'm  helping lose  the needle back in the hay stack.  I'm suggesting we look for love and work instead.
What is the meaning? What is the reason?  
Death is stalking me.
I’ve been in the shadow of the valley.
I’ve held the dying in my arms. Now I am the dying. We always were. But didn't think of it that way. A daily dance.  A song of songs.  A cruel or kind embrace.
I’ve known the last words.
I’ve been the last face.
I’ve had little reason for doubt in those times.
There is a certainty in reality. I’m among ideologues, talking heads who can’t find their ass with both hands.  I’m unduly judgemental. I know their fear is like fingernails on glass. There’s a whine and screech I hear. I see it in their bodies. Their hypertension and the organ failures speak to the war they’re waging. It’s hard for everyone to go on.  I don't imagine others can know the sheer volume of experience, the screech of emotions as they talk and shout so many things, yet really think they're being 'discrete'.  The ones in uniforms are the loudest. They have the shortest fuses.  They judge themselves as they judge others. Harshly.
Even the rich and privileged come to their ends, face death.  The money men and women lack the equanimity of philosophers or poets.  "You can’t take it with you.", they even say ,unknowingly.   I hear their screams in terror in the anger of their skin. I see the pulsations of troubled arteries. The vessels in their eyes betray them. Their pupils are worth a thousand words.  They lie to themselves.  There is such terror in the death of materialists.  I’m bolstered by my spiritualism. I’m comforted by my faith.  The faithless flounder before life and death.   Lies no longer serve them in that last encounter.
He hung himself.  I knew him well.
I knew him and could not convince him that there was more to life than a needle in his arm.  I failed him as much as I failed the woman when I held her dead baby in my hands.  Oh I know there were others.  It takes a village to raise a child. The baby was dead before I was called to the hospital.  I was only there to witness. I recorded the man's passing as well. Our conversations about the 'culture of addiction' and the need for 'self medication', his 'right to die' and all that other stuff.  Armchair philosophers love to talk. He was a wonderful man.  So young. A mere 50 year old. Old for the dark ages but so young today.  So sad. Such tragedy.  The dealers had long ago stopped giving him money and fast cars. The good time girls had gone.  He was so sick he hardly stole enough for his needs.  He was alone in an SRO when they found him.  Hanging.
So many live their lives in jail or asylums. I don’t know how I could go on with out the wilderness or the sea.  I escape to these empty wild and full reaches where sometimes hardly a bird or an animal interrupts my solitude. The hum of the anthill city is far away. The illusion of the substance of crowds is behind me. I’m hanging on a mast or sitting in a clearing with a rifle watching and waiting.  The solitude washes over me healing like gentian violet.  The sickness leaves for a while.  The suffering is less. God the chimney sweep has taken away a load of soot.
Desire remains.
I miss her scent, her nakedness, the loveliness of her.  I miss the dying between her legs that resurrected and restored my faith as much as any time in the wild.  Before she lost her faith and way.  Before we slid apart.  Sweat is slippery.
He told me of the men on the upturned life raft in the North Atlantic, the freezing numbing cold, others slipping into the dark, then later the sharks.  He remembers the faces of the men..  He didn’t know why held on or why he lived.  Remembrance day is special for him.  He gives thanks and mourns his comrades long lost.  One day he expects to meet with them again.
I don’t know why, he says. I don't know why I never let go.
She thought it was all ‘luck’.  Mine was good. Hers was bad.  She was a victim. I was a victimizer.  I just remember the work.  I don’t like that they deny the work today.  Fatalism.  I prefer ‘karma’ and ‘retribution’.  Yet I really don’t know why I was born to parents who loved me or why I decided to always to work for the benefit of my fellow man while she set out to serve herself and her own and today is lonely.  I explain today it's for the money. That's the reason they understand.  It's only when I explain how to make money they see the reason in my serving. Was it only about the money?  How can they understand that it was little about the money. If you can save a life you can make a million but what's a million to a dying man.  I dream of being alone at sea again crossing oceans facing challenges and adventures, but going where.  It's always here.
I don’t know why I didn’t rest when there was ‘enough’. Like my grandfather and father I worked longer for the times of trouble and saved as they did.  All around me there were parties.  All around me there were ‘easy schemes’ but instead I just got up before dawn and went to work and returned long after dusk.  When I was "taking time off" I was learning other skills.
The government gets votes with redistribution schemes.   Steal from the rich and give to the poor.  More and more I see my counterparts working under the table,  working scams.   The rewards gone out of honest work. The sacrifice and work are no longer  redistributed.  Only the rewards are redistributed. The pay off is in the complaining.   The thugs steal the potatoes of the farmers till all is like Africa where no one ‘saves’ because ‘savings’ are stolen.  Like children.   It’s become that here with the banks and the greed of bankers.  My father told me of the men who hid coins in mattresses because they couldn’t trust the banks of his day.
Only the nouveau rich flaunt their wealth.
I’ve stored my earnings in education and now am aging towards dementia.  All the lessons of survival and success I’ve learned will be fore naught when my mind is lost.  Forget about the banks.  Insaniety erodes all much quicker.
So what is dementia. Not the silly materialist explanation. But Lethe.  What is the forgetting.  The stupid are always happier than the smartest.  There’s blessings in mediocrity that the mediocre cannot know.  Intellectuals are a morbid lot.
God doesn’t want our ideas as much as he loves our dance.
It’s not called the ‘song of creation’ for naught.  The celestial spheres make music.  I may lose my mind but I’ll not lose my inner ear.  I’ll always dream.  To dream that is the rub.
These days my dreams have been happy and adventuresome.  The nightmares still occur but less so.
I did like this coffee.  What a miracle the world of distribution is.  This global product is my miracle. My fridge is sacred. It runs on propane or electricity.  I have this wonder of a gas stove I’ll light again and make another cup. To savour a morning cup of coffee. This is true wealth.  It’s not the myriad of things but rather the ability to enjoy them. To have the presence and peace of mind to languish in the moment and love the celebration of creation. That is the elixir of youth.
What will I do today?  I’ve been reading this brilliant book by a new French Canadian author. I’d surely like to finish it before I see him next.  The dog definitely wants a walk.  There are meetings to go to, church services and gatherings of those who are honouring our soldiers.  It’s Remembrance Day.  I can’t help but remember my father.  I miss him.  We all missed my mom when she went first.  I was such a fool when I was younger.  There was so much I wanted to know.  But he knew I’d learn it soon enough.  There’s somethings one can’t learn with words alone.  Experience has taught me his wisdom.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Journal - Nov. 9, 2014

I’m on the sailing vessel, GIRI.  Gilbert had me throwing the ball for him for quite a while. I made coffee and soup. That took getting the propane going.  But great coffee.  I love this boat.  I bought a new $29 Likewise ceramic heater from Canadian Tire and it’s booting out the BTU’s.  Almost toasty.  Just came by after church to check things out and decided to hang out for awhile. So homey.
At St. James Anglican Father Mathew gave a moving sermon on peace.  The choir was particularly uplifting.  It had been a while since I was present for mass.  Gilbert loved by all.  Sad new though.  Father Mark announced he’s moving to Wales in the New Year.  He’s been truly inspiring. I remember when I first came to the church saying I’d been kicked out of Christ Church because they don’t like dogs.  Gilbert’s a therapy dog but there was just that ‘anti dog’ development.  I’ve watched places lose their heart as they turn on animals especially in churches where Jesus is viewed as a shepherd.  The Bishop even blessed Gilbert.
But when I came to St. James, I told Father Mark, Gilbert and I were unwelcome at Christ Church and Father Mark replied, “Gilbert is welcome.  We love dogs here. You can come along if you’re with Gilbert, even!”  So Gilbert fell in love with St. James and I came to throughly enjoy the deep Anglican spirituality of Father Mark.  It’s a wonderful parish.  Today I told him that Wales was going to be a difficult Sunday commute for Gilbert and I.
It was great to see Kevin, AJ and the kids. I’m reminded of when my brother and sister in law had rug bunnies, my now big and tall nephews. I didn’t quite differentiate them.  I think this reflects my bachelorness. They’re all ‘kids’ until they’re talking to me.  Despite delivering a hundred or so and treating thousands of children I really am most impressed with Kangaroos.  Kevin and AJ are such loving parents while I’m waiting till the kids are able to play chess.  My nephews in their late 20’s and 30’s are quite human and formed.  Kevin carried the baby on his chest while AJ beside me at the alter had the toddler held between her arms as she accepted host.  A little later one of the three was beelining for the door and caught in passing by one of the church elders.  Over coffee, he quipped later it takes more than just parents to keep an eye on these little bullets.  “That’s why they say it takes a village to raise a child.”  I’m thankful Gilbert’s fine on a leash and mostly accepts commands. When he was a little tyke with his own curious agenda and no fear, Laura was around to tackle him when I was trying to keep him from rushing headlong across a street to visit a new dog.  Today he stops for my screams, obedience training still evaporating when there’s a female critter about.  The young are so vulnerable and stupid.
I just learned that there are a billion and half muslims in the world and 30% are radicalized.  There are millions in north america and 30% of these are radicalized as well.  Jihadist muslims want to destroy everything in western civilization, and Canadian young have been going to Syria to fight for Sharia Law.  It’s different in a way from the days when Hemingway went off to fight for the left wing against the fascists in Spain.  There’s such romance in the young but war is always about money and old women and old men scheming.  I’m thankful that Canada is so peaceful.  Our prime minister is off trying to improve trade with China, our second largest trade partner.  The lost in politics for Obama may mean more markets for Canadian oil in the states. People forget that the production of electricity involves environmental costs no matter what. I’ve had solar panels for 25 years, along with wind generators and water generators. My new diesel engine really gives me joy because of it’s power and reliability.  I’ve 8 marine deep cycle batteries on this boat and have had to change them at $100 a pop every few years for maximum efficiency.  Right now I’m using dock electricity 120 V to run the heater. Heater’s are very demanding.  It doesn’t surprise me that northern countries turned to nuclear power because heat is so demanding.  My brother just put in a 220 V plug to run his washer and dryer.  I had to turn off my heater to run my microwave. It all becomes even more interesting when I’m running of the converter.  I have hoped that people with iPhones and computers will become more aware of batteries and charging so that they can be less stupid about environmentalism.  I have a stove that converts burning wood to charge my phone but the efficiency is something less than electricity from a plug.  Phones and computers use the least juice. I encourage people to imagine if they had to charge their home heater with solar panels in winter considering how much juice heating takes. In the south our air conditioner was the great consumer.  I’ve been doing this ‘practically’ for a quarter of a century and in my country house we used a wood stove with various vectoring to heat the house efficiently.  The trouble with the media and academics is that they’ve not ‘lived’ these things. I remember the failure of my electric bicycle early days.  I went back to a gas scooter because of the demands of charging.  Thankfully things are improving dramatically.  The power pack on my computer is lighter and longer lasting by far than a year ago.  Right now I’m enjoying this ceramic electric heater.
I was asked when I was going away at Christmas.  I’ve just visited my brother and know I’m always welcome thanks to the graciousness of my sister in law.  It was truly at joy to be with Ron at his new Napanee home. He’s bought a couple of albacore sailing dinghy’s so I look forward to getting out with my nephew Allan (who threw back the fish I caught this fall) and racing him on Hay Bay.  Graeme and Andrew and Tanya are always enjoyable to see.  I just love Ron and Adell’s new place and maybe next spring or summer will get back there with Gilbert who loves Allan’s cockapoo Eva.  I’ve friends inviting me to join them in Mexico and Hawaii.  Going to the hot is the sane and healthy thing to do in winter.  I used to enjoy skiing at Whistler , getting above the clouds and enjoying the sun on the slopes.  I keep thinking that there’s a limit to trips so why Hawaii and Mexico where I’ve already been often, why not Manilla Phillipines. I mentioned this to the fillipino girls at work and they said, “Don’t go at Christmas. That’s when all the Fillipino’s are there.”  We laughed at how that came out but what they meant was that Christmas was when the third of the Phillipines who work overseas came back to visit family.  Conjestion and chaos so not really the best time to tourist there but maybe January.  Then I thought South Africa, clearly hot, and my nephew and brother went on Safari there with great photographer joy.  Gilbert wouldn’t be welcomed which he is in Mexico.  I’ve enjoyed sailing my boat to Salt Spring, winter sailing being so peaceful but my diesel heater is connected to the diesel tank which we’ve disconnected waiting for an inspection plate to be put in.  If I fill it I’ll have to suck it out before I can put a plate in.  The Stem to Stern folk who put in the new volvo penta engine last year were concerned with the quality of fuel that might come from that tank since we’d not been able to truly clean out the sludge from the bottom without an inspection plate.  My RV needs to go in for repair too so it would be good to coordinate travelling with when it’s being repaired.I did stay in a hotel in Vancouver last year for a couple of weeks.  I’ve thought of South America but I really would like to go to Egypt, Ethiopia or Turkey , all hot but which Christian roots that interest me. I loved being in St. Petersburg and Moscow given the history of Christianity.  The trouble with the countries I’d like to travel to is that they’re decidedly not safe now.  While I no longer worry about being raped as I might have been concerned as a kid, I’m worried about being kidnapped and held hostage and Gilbert getting a demand for a ransom, or worse being beheaded.  The jihadists do that then sell the organs from the bodies right after. I don’t want to be a forced organ doner.  I’d love to go to Ireland or Scotland but the weather there is as inhospitable as Canada.  Meanwhile I’ve so much work to do, David, my doctor friend said, “I’m thinking of a ‘stay cation’ . that’s where you just stay at home.”  What an idea?
We call these cadillac problems?  In contrast to concerns about tsunamis, world wars, jihadists, having a job, Canadians with less than 7% unemployment are mostly concerned with ‘choices’.  I used to go winter camping, no cost in that, very exciting and exhilarating, very very dramatic and adventuresome, but Canadians like to complain they don’t have the money to go to South Africa.  $3000 air fare versus a 10 day hotel and air fare vacation in Mexico for $800.  Indeed I was in Palm Dessert and thought of going there because return air fare are as low as $300. So for the warm, there’s Arizona as well or just hoping in the car and driving down to LA in a couple of days.  I heard of 4 kids who did that last year.  Christmas in LA.  All sorts of possibilities but then it’s really attractive to veg on the couch and maybe make a turkey. I miss the parties I had for years , dozens and dozens of house parties with dozens and dozens of guests and huge spreads of food.  That was what I did during the 20 years of marriage. All the married people eating tougher thing and our big houses being the popular destination and my enjoying cooking.  I think of the 30 or 40 deer I’ve shot and the 8 moose , elk and bear I’ve shot and how many mouths I fed over the years.  Then there were the hundreds of fish.  As a single person I don’t “entertain’ as much.  I’ve a friend who invites me to dinner and I reciprocate by taking him out to a restaurant or show.  In another scenario, a couple of prairie guys get together monthly for our dinner out at a restaurant, neither of us wanting to cook and clean up.  I’ve had folk out on the boat and have made a lot of sandwiches when friends drop in this last year but it’s been a decade since I cooked a meal for a dozen or more and I used to do that all the time.  Part of the reason I have some disposable income today is that I’m not entertaining like I did.  I give more money to charity and indeed like the charity functions that feed me at high cost so that a portion of the ticket gets channelled to the charity.
They’re all cadillac problems. Having a dog I don’t go to restaurants like I once did. We do eat at places where there’s a balcony and where he’s welcome. Muslims don’t generally like dogs and increasingly I’m seeing that anti dog movement infiltrating the world.  Canada is changing so much.  Growing up everyone here had a dog.  Every boy had a dog.  Every girl wanted a pony.  Now the robots have taken over.  Children want hazmat suits for Christmas.
There is so much to do and see in Vancouver.  I revisited Banyan Books this year and was astonished I’d been so many years since last being there. I was only in the Library a couple of times this year and once it was a place where I pretty well lived. Life can be an adventure.
I feel a bit betwixt and between. Hunting season coming to a close.  The stress of work perhaps letting up before the onslaught of Jan.  Financial concerns not nearly as troubling as just recently.  I could have a deadly disease.  World war may break out.  Aliens might invade. But right now things are copasetic.  I enjoyed Ballet BC.  I dropped off my Harley for winter hibernation. I got the Yamaha Outboard in for repair.  I was going to get the blue tooth fixed on the mazda.  It’s been wonky.  There’s a list of things to do on this boat and with my vehicles but I’ve just got to get Gilbert’s update on his rabies vaccine.  Nothing pressing. Interviewing staff this week.  A major report to do.  My new book is at the printers.  This is a sunny day.  It’s been so long since I could just sit at a computer and ramble. I normally like doing this on Commercial Avenue in an out door cafe looking at the mix of characters that pass. I thought of Jerusualem for hot and how I’d love to study Biblical Hebrew mornings like I did when I studied Medical Spanish in El Salvador. Hebrew is an amazing language. I was talking to a beautiful woman last night who spoke Arabic and told me how she could understand so many dialects of the middle East and northern Africa and what a beautiful language Arabic was.  I wish I’d more life just to study these.  I envied my friend who learned Mandarin.  I loved my friend in Russian chastising me about my lack of knowledge of ‘alphabets’.  I was annoyed by the cyrillic alphabet and she was gently bringing me to the realization that my myopic view hadn’t encompassed the vast number of sounds and symbols that occur around the world. I love Sanskrit too but would really love to know Gaelic.  Studying Hebrew I could see so much confusion in the translation to English.  The old languages lack the starkness of modern translation.
Oh well, I now think a bit of a nap is in order. Maybe 20 minutes then I’ll take Gilbert for a walk. He’s been napping this whole time.  I could go swimming. I am thinking about supper.  I really should do something. There’s so much I could do but it’s a rare sunny day in Vancouver november so a bit of a laid back approach to it seems mildly in order.
IMG 7073IMG 7075

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Hibernating the Harley Davidson Motorcycle

Trev Deely has a great storage plan. I used it last year for the few months of winter.  This year they’ve even dropped their rates. I love that the experts ‘winterize’ my bike. Then in spring before I take it back I ask them to check it all over so that I am reassured of  a summer of safety.
I bought my 2009 HD Electraglide from Trev Deely when it was a year old and had very low mileage.  It’s been a great bike ever since.  Motorcycling all over BC, Washington and Oregon before the Sturges South Dakota trip last year I’ve had no complaints. It’s the greatest American freeway motorcycle ever made. I’d rented Electraglides in New England and Texas before buying myself one too.
Gilbert, my cockapoo, has grown up on this Harley.  He’s 4 and 1/2 year old and began riding on a motorcycle when he was only a puppy.  Last summer he did 5 hours on the back of my bike when we drove north to Merritt to attend the Sturges North motorcycle rally and hear Burton Cummings incredible music.  It was a sunny day so we detoured to Ashcroft and just rode round the high country before heading to the campsite and fair grounds at Merritt.
Today Gilber rode with me on our this ride of 2014 season.  Until March 1, 2015, the Harley is hibernating at Trev Deeley where the crew take good care of all the babies.
A Trev Deely fall sale was going on today.  Great deals on 2014 and 2015 Harley’s.  I loved the new Street Glide.  
Great end of the Harley season sunshine biking day.   IMG 7062IMG 7070

Friday, November 7, 2014

Ballet BC No.29

Ballet BC has again out done itself in originality.   Choreographer Jacopo Godani’s A.U.R.A (Anarchist Unit Related to Art) was minimalist futuristic and almost birdlike inhuman. Movements and forms taken on by the dancers seemed nearly impossible as they flocked together then separated in pas de deux, retreat, primitive war like stances mixed with the elegant and otherworldly.  Truly explosive. The company of dancers were spectacular.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” my ballet loving friend John said during the intermission.   The music was 48nord.
White Act, a world premiere, choreographed by Fernando Hernando Magadan with music of Schubert arr. Mahler: 1st movement, Quartet #14 in d minor of Death and the Maiden, and Urmas Sisask was such a sweet work utterly different in style from the first.  Lovely white attired female dancers on point floated across the stage  while men dressed in what might have been prison grey writhed about them reaching out for the ephemeral. Sometimes they almost came together, the white clad ladies leaving the tradition for the modern.   This contrast of traditional and modern was incredible. The set design was a beautiful black and white photo of a wood land trail. A dancer  entered the art while mist poured across the stage.  It was magical. Gilbert Small, Perter Smida, Connor Gnam, Livona Ellis,Kirsten Wicklund,  Alexis Fletcher were for me, personally especially interpretative.  But the whole company was enchanting.
An Instant with choreography by Lesley Telford and music by Michael Gordon was again, so different and catching.  Rachel Meyer and Christopher von Riedeman held my eye.  Yet again the whole company was in the sync and flow of this unusually expressive surprising collective. The music and dance was hauntingly coupled with stark poetry.
I don’t know where the time went.  Emily Molnar, Artistic Director was announcing the evening’s ballets,  telling us of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet ’s Nutcracker at  Christmas , then it seemed we were all standing as the curtain rose after the final act.  The applause was resounding as the company took bow after bow and  and shouts of bravo rang out through the Queen E.
I had been a long day at the end of a very long week of clinic.  I’d feared I’d be too tired to stay awake.  Applauding, I felt alive in a way only the most finest  art can make one feel.  I was there with four friends.  We all were beaming.  Something special had transpired.  We’d been touched by the precious and magnificent. Such is the grace of dance.
oIMG 7055utstanding and so rewarding evening.  IMG 7054IMG 7059

Night fears

It is good this minute.  The pains are minor.  No screaming cells. Only aches. Reminders.  The hair is white. Death awaits. The mind considers lack of pensions, lack of homes, failures, financial losses, the investments in love and real estate. All the sour deals.  Materialism, capitalism, feminism, sexism, racism, globalism. All the isms of an age.  I am afraid.  In the night I awake.  Afraid.  The darkness is dispelled with the flick of a switch.  Thoughts of cancer, of disease, of disability, of loneliness, of all the fears awoken by the site of a bug that lept from one human to another. Lice in this day and age.  Modern times.  In the seat of affluence.  So many drugs. So little self care. The delusions and illusions.  I’m awake.  I sip a Canada Dry.  Turn on a computer.  It takes time to remember God.  To remember the Good. To stand in the present. To know that here there is no fear. Now there is no fear.  All is well. All is well.  The child self has dreamt a night mare. I have been attached to this tragicomedy of life. I am he. I am he. Blessed spirit I am he.  Lord Jesus.  Holy Spirit come. I’ve been in the depth of abyss, in the horror. I am free. I am joy. I am free.  Lift up my eyes.  Sing a song of peace.  Awake to sleep.  I struggle with the fear, whack it over the head. Tell it to be gone. Get thee behind me Satan.  There is only Love.  Depression creeps in the pores but exhaling I am rid of the beast. Exhaling I am purified.  Rise up.  Rise up.  Sing a happy song.  Shout out. This too will pass.  Self soothe.  The panic a baits.  The heart rate calms. There is never anything to be that afraid of.  A myriad of scary images from tv and movies.  Imagination run amok.  Focus on nature. See the leaf and stars and breathe. Breathe more, slowly deeply.  Now consider returning to bed. Go back to sleep.  Dream of your mother and father.  Remember your family, friends and dogs.  Look to the positive. Search for the good.  Let go of the past.  Surrender to the love and peace. It is all around you, in and of everything. There is only Love.  Only love.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Deer Viewing, Princeton, BC

Deer Viewing is a more political correct way of describing what I and Gilbert do on weekends.  Hunting seems so violent and definitive.  Like Global Warming or Global Cooling, there’s a right or wrong about that thing. Instead “Climate Change” captures the positive and no one is ever wrong.   With the climate , well ‘it’s changing’.   I was in Princeton as a sort of  ‘monitor’.  I did have rifles with me but that was only in case the climate attacked me and I had to fend off UN activists reports.  As it was I didn’t have news for 48 hours.  Much to my surprise, despite the ‘dire warnings’ of the fear mongering United Nations I survived the weekend.  At high altitude I got cell reception and in town so I was able to take urgent phone calls but I didn't listen to the news.
Gilbert and I left Vancouver in a flurry of activity, beating the worst of the rush hour traffic.  I listened to Rankin’s, Saints of the Shadow Bible all audio books and thoroughly enjoyed it.  In Abbotsford I got Gilbert three new squeaky yellow tennis balls.  He enjoyed them immensely.  I threw a lot of ball all weekend.  I also got him Blue dried food and Blue wet food containers he loved.
We stayed at Canada’s Best Value Inn.  The Asian night attendant was dressed in hospital gown and had a melee of hack saws and pliers for emergency surgery. It was halloween.
“I saw the three stooges do this skit, “ the delightful lady said.  The room was about $90 with $15 for Gilbert.  There was a microwave, and refrigerator, desk and chairs, a couple of large comfortable double beds.
I’ve stayed at Canada’s Best Value Inn before and love it’s central location. The rooms are clean. The courtyard parking makes it’s safe from crime.  There was a hot tub down the hall. I didn’t use it this time. I watched movies on cable tv.  
The next morning I drove out to the south in pretty thick fog.   I’d seen a bull moose in the spring so thought this was a good place to start.  Spike Fork Moose and 4 point mule deer were the animals most favoured for ‘viewing’.  All others were ‘illegal’.  I never saw any moose.  I did meet a young fellow who'd not only 'viewed' a four point buck but had it in the back of his truck.
First morning I stopped at A&W, which opens  at 6 am.  Gilbert loves their sausage paddy.  Laura broke these up for him when he was a puppy.  He got used to the attention and continues to expect it.  I break the paddy up. He still hoovers it.  I enjoy the sausage and egger and hash browns.    I also like the A&W coffee. I have a new stainless steel thermos by Thermos from Canadian Tire, rated for 24 hours. It sure kept my coffee hot all day, better than any thermos I've ever had before.  
We parked the Ford truck and I unloaded the Yamaha Kodiac 450 ATV.  We’d hardly gone 10 minutes when I came upon a three point buck and  a spike.  They were just crossing the road and stopped to look at me.  Not for long.  They headed on up the hill immediately.  A doe followed behind passing by me 20 feet away.  Gilbert was so excited but stayed on the ATV as trained.  I’d naturally got off and grabbed my Winchester 70.    The fog limited visibility to a couple of hundred yards. Still with my scope, I watched the deer climb the hill between the pines.
It was a great day for ATV’ing.  A bit chilly though. The fog left everything damp. I came across a permanent hut.  It was nice to get out of the wind and have a cup of coffee there. I’d had to put a hoodie on Gilbert because he was wet and shaking as we drove along the logging trails.  He didn’t like the hoodie but it kept him warm on the ATV.  He stopped shaking. I took it off when we walked.  
It was mainly the cold that got me heading back in the early afternoon. I’d watched a doe while I ate a sandwich and drank more coffee.  Gilbert enjoyed his Blue Divine Delights. They’re a better quality Little Cesar. Of course he also had to have some of my roast beef sandwich.
Back at the truck I was glad to load the ATV as quickly as possible then get in the warm cabin.  Back in town I stopped at Princeton Outdoor Supply. I’ve been coming there for a couple of decades.  I'm always impressed with the selection of stock.   I bought my 3 piece cammo suit here a decade back and it’s still the best I’ve ever come across.  Today I'd lost the key to the trigger lock for my Ruger 22 so he drilled it out and sold me combination trigger lock to replace it.  I’d broken off the battery case on my Bushnell Fusion Binocular Rangefinder.  I guess it banged hard against something. I love those binoculars and love the range finder for training me better in estimating distance.   I got them a few years back in 100 Mile House when they first came out. I've loved them ever since and hope Bushnell will be able to repair them. I think it's just a matter of gluing.
Thanks to Princeton Outdoor Supply I got a set of Vortex Waterproof 10x50 binoculars.  The owner of the store said to me, "Use them to look at that herd of deer up on that distant hill and you'll appreciate how good these Vortex are." Looking with the 10x42 Vortex he pointed to the deer which just lept out at me when I looked with the 10x50.
I’d just taken pictures of deer on the way into town on private property as well as some right in the town. Now I was looking at a herd up on a hill. No shortage of deer around Princeton.  The binocular’s were the ‘brightest’ I’ve used too.   Vortex is a fabulous American company.  The binoculars were so compact too, and under $300.  I'll use them for hunting until the Bushnell's are repaired then these will become my yachting binoculars.  They're really that good.
Back at the Hotel I meant to just have an hour nap before the evening hunt but woke at 6 pm.  Instead of gearing up I walked next door to Pasha’s Pizza and Indian Food.  A half hour later Gilbert and I were enjoying the All Meat Pizza and  excellent tandoori chicken.    Gilbert slept while I watched Criminal Minds and read Tom Clancy with Mark Greany’s  Command Authority.  I loved the before bed long hot shower
At 5:30 am I packed the guns and ammo back in the truck. I packed up everything not needing to come back.  Once again we stopped at A&W then headed west to Whipsaw. It’s in the direction of home and I have shot deer there before. It was the first place I hunted in BC too, back in 1986.  I had a VW Rabbit and couldn’t get up Whipsaw because of the ice and snow. I only had my Browning 30:06 back then.
Mostly I remember Whipsaw for the time I had parked my Astro Van, a decade or so back up, on Cross.  I had hiked an hour or two back in the woods from there  when the sleet began.  I headed back to the van as fast as I could but not fast enough. The roads were ice. I had chains but they did little to slow me down. I ski’d the whole way down Cross and Whipsaw Lamont picking up speed and sure I’d go over the side  into the steep ravines as I took corners almost on 2 wheels.  It was beyond black diamond skiing   I  prayed the whole way down.
Today it was just slick with mud.  Ploughs and other big machinery was out working on the roads.   I was driving my Ford F350 4x4 diesel with an ATV in the back for weight.  It certainly was a far different ride. I'm still very thankful.
 I only viewed deer. I even got pictures.   I didn’t even see any grouse.  Gilbert was happy to have the ball thrown.  At noon I drove out stopping before the highway to put trigger locks on the guns return  them to their cases.
Good thing I did. The police and conservation were waiting on the highway checking all hunters.  I passed,showing my hunting license,  driver’s license and  all the rifles  properly stowed with trigger locks.  Gilbert was very popular with the officer.
Now I’m back in the city.
I uploaded a picture to Facebook of me wearing my Go Pro camera which I used while ATV’ing. I said it was really a device to communicate with passing spaceships and also found lost metal in the air.  When I get time I'll render the film and upload it to you tube.  It really was a great weekend.
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Saturday, November 1, 2014

History and God and Stuff

Modern Times - Paul Johnson 
Intellectuals - Paul Johnson
Brief History of the World - H.G. Wells
Winston Churchill - history of the world or Winston Churchill Biography
Re War
WWI - remember Kaiser - killed - series of alliances - but old ideas and new weapons - machine guns and horses - europe has war every 50 years, - all countries trade in military stuff - american made best, followed by european - followed by russian and chinese - different wars are sales bazaars.  The triangle of trade of british empire was (slaves, guns, rum).  Today it’s (sex slaves, pharmaceuticals and drugs and guns).  Nothing changes that much.  We benefit by being friends of the winner, like the neighbour of Egypt once they acquiesced same as rome
WWI ended with Britain and allies winning against Germany and allies
Made Germany pay big time.  Major depression in germany .  English history usually blames french who really are devious fuck up (see quebec and troudeau double dealing) During Depression Rothchilds built castles and mansions and flaunted jewish wealth as did others - Hitler rose and took over country with perverts and thugs.  Neo pagan. Anti semitism easy because Jews looked different. Like Indian chiefs in Canada all being millionaires ruining the image of poor nice Indian. Rothschilds did same for masss of jews.  Rich give the poor a bad name in any group.  
(However given my bias to the Celts , my heritage , they do no wrong - this is tribalism - cannibals are tribal - my tribe is better than your tribe.  We’ve devolved into tribalism in Canada - to understand this read Jared Diamond - Traditional Society - see anthropology)
Pagan is the pre christian religions like Druids and such.  Good stuff.  Wickens and such build on pagans - pagans usually polytheist - every tree a god - the tree huggers are usually neo pagan
WWII was won by Stalin in East wasting men against german tanks and in the west the Americans waited till the Brits were exhausted and Pearl Harbour forced them to enter war - because they entered so late they could steal glory.  see Hollywood.
Post WWII - silly United Nations but really good american ‘lend lease’ and rebuilding of the world for profit.  
Meanwhile the Canadian Liberal Prime Minister during the war was running off with whores , holding seances to get advice from his mother and believed his dog could channel his dead mother.  The liberals don’t like people to read history.
See Chamberlain and Churchill.  Liberals in England are ‘whigs’.  Conservatives are Tories. In US , conservatives are Republican and liberals are democrats.  Liberals tend towards government solutions and centralized government (troudeau wanted all power in Ottawa  - his son wants you to smoke dope) - and conservatives tend to decentralization and business solutions.  Leadership of liberals and tories are both rich and ridiculously powerful but the left always claims to represent the poor which they don’t.  They just treat them like gullible children.  Liberals did the same early with women but women got smart quick. Though Troudeau is running his campaign for girls and boys.  Worked for his father since we were baby boomers and stupid and lots of us.  
Secular Age is a good book
Aetheism is very recent - see Intellectuals - Neitze - main proponent - ‘god is dead’ .  Betrand Russell /CS Lewis debates about god existence best.
Modern day atheists have been able to criticize (they’re great critics and commonly addicts and drunks ) because there’s been no ‘atheist religion’ they say or outward manifestation of ‘atheism’  However communism is the political expression of Aetheism as the British Empire was the political expression of Protestant Christianity whereas Rome was the political expression of Paganist theism.  
I saw those guys were really scared about this direct attack because it really does take the wind out of their sales and all evidence to date - see Psychiatry and Spirituality is that spiritual people are healthy and happy.
they equate ‘tribalism’ and ‘nationalism’ with theism - all tribes and all nations had their gods - it’s like blaming ‘flags’ for the history of war and competition.  However Communists are atheists and the sole major political expression of atheism and they’ve killed 100 million people (roughly 1 million a year for last 100 years-- more efficient killing machines than any tribe before them - atheists are the great killers and add to that the number of millions aborted principally by atheists - so they like to talk about the crusades with the killing of a a few thousand hundreds of years ago to distract the silly from the actual killing of millions going on right now - see Killing Fields Cambodia, etc.
Those atheists are liars and fucked. 
Buddhists don’t have a ‘god’ perse anymore than modern ‘Christians’ have a god in the sky thing - thats why these aethesist guys are sleaze because they always argue today’s buddhist atheism versus 5 hundred years ago misrepresented theism - Merton, the catholic monk went off and lived and worked with the Buddhist - his take is the best but my favourite is Trungpa who wrote spiritual materialism. He said westerns couldn't understand buddhism with their 'pac man' mindsets.


God is here and now but we’re all made out of the imagination of God - we’re ‘god stuff”.  God loves Dwarkins even if he’s wrong.  The fact is God’s highly amused.  Actually God is mostly laughing.  Anxiety is a measure of one’s distance from God

Now consider that India and Asia and Africa and all sorts of countries don't get any coverage in CNN.  Canada doesn't get coverage outside of Canada.  Amazing lesson when I travelled Europe.  Nothing happens in Canada except Celine Dion, Mayor Ford and such.  So "history" isn't about anything except major wars and some famous people - so the history of the world 100 yeas ago was about rulers and winners.   I loved the monasteries in the hills.  Little farms out of the way.  There were a lot of soccer riots through history and people were always trying to get by without the marauders and pillagers.  Rape of boys and girls has gone on for ever.

Feminism is part of 'social communism' - verus 'women's liberation' and 'suffragettism' which were Christian movements and movements of the 'secular age'.  Communists are the great 'thief's of the world.  Greatest originality is democracy and in the names that reward the creator (patent law ) versus communism which takes the rewards of the scientists and gives them all to the politicians - a kind of gangsterism.

Corporations - are the new 'arch enemy' but corporations are the best latest way of distributing money for large projects - history of money is worth studying in this regard because it's always been 'herding cats'.

Science of Fear by Gardner is the best book because it exposes the media 'fear mongering' and the fact that we're doing really good with indoor plumbing , disease eradication, weather notices and good food.  We're all living better lives and the poor are 20% versus 80%.  But the communists and atheists would have you believe otherwise because when everyone is negative and smoking dope then they complain and there's a revolution - se Beatles ' we don't want a revolution' - just means devolution and new tyrant gets in- see all the coups of africa and middle east - corruption now issue - see bankers , politicians, and the truly amazing potential for abuse of everything that the truly wealthy children of the truly wealthy can get up to.  Most people lead lives of quiet deperation and don't do so much bad because of lack of opportunity.  When vices are widely available greater percentage indulge.  So what happens when 'money' doesn't limit your potential for 'evil' .  See Beiber.  Poor kid.  Hollywood treatment centres.  Mayor Ford. There but for the grace of God go I.