Looking back, looking ahead and just looking

I’m not good at looking back on things like the year now ending because my brain has no sense for time. Quite often I don’t even know what day it is. So to look back at last summer, or spring, or at the year overall … well, I think certain things happened and it turns out they occurred two years ago. Or I think something transpired in a sultry July when it happened during an ice cold February.

And regardless of what the year actually was like, any characterization I give to it is coloured by what things feel like now, in this moment. This being the case, this year has felt like a non-existent one. A lost year. One that should have happened but didn’t. Maybe I tripped into a wormhole and scooted right through 2005 only to find myself at the tail end of it thinking, “What happened? Where’d that year ago? Did anything interesting happen during it?”

I’d say no. I’ve been locked in some kind of weird emotional stasis. Or so it feels.

In the world, I’d say 2005 was the year of calamity, and another year of general bitchiness and disagreeableness. It feels as if the entire world (including myself) is on this long spoiled brat whine. And some days I wish we’d all just fucking shuttup.

Interestingly, this post seems to be another contribution to that long whine. Hmm.

The real problem for me, in 2005 I was largely bored and brooding and maybe a teensy bit bipolar, as I think we all are from time to time. And the reason it was a problem (apart from the obvious), is I can’t seem to get my ass in gear to end it. I think many of us are over-indulgent of these states. And I seem to be extremely over-indulgent of it these days.

So for 2006? … As others have said, resolutions are a fool’s game. Rather, I think a wish list is better. And mine goes like this, in no particular order:

- more sun
- more laughter
- better jokes (see above)
- more people (I’ve become REALLY reclusive)
- new job (or at least something interesting and challenging in the one I have now)*
- new digs (maybe even a new city?)*
- more writing what I want; less writing what others want
- bowling! I wanna go bowling again! Why do none of the people I know wanna go bowling???
- an e-mail at least from my brother so we know he’s still alive out there somewhere
- back on the writing thing … write a novel and/or screenplay (probably a novel, at least first, because it’s just more fun and satisfying, at least for me)

Tomorrow or the next day I’ll regret posting this because 1) the list will give me a sense of obligation which, after time, I’ll feel guilty for not meeting and 2) the overall post has a kind of glum, reflective feel to me. And that ain’t no frame of mind for starting something new, like a year.

You know what I’d really like to do in 2006? Seriously? Run away and join the circus which, in my case, would mean leaving my job and spending the year writing. Problem with that is people don’t pay you for it and the bill collecting bastards are a relentless crew.

Finally, one more thing for my wish list, from Lucinda Williams’ song Ventura:

I want to see the ocean bend
The edges of the sun then
I wanna get swallowed up in
an ocean of love.

Now that would make 2006 a great year.

* These are musings, not so much wishes.

Tag: New Year, 2006, Writing, How to become an idiot

Favourite posts - this blog’s appropriately named

Bill eats apple

I liked the idea of a list of favourite posts – not the blogosphere’s, but those of my own. The idea was suggested by Neil’s blog and Brooke’s. So I made a list of my favourite posts from the last year. (It’s over there in the right column.)

I discovered something when I compiled the list, however. I discovered I wrote about the indignity of having an ass over and over. In fact, three of the ten posts I listed (chronologically) were about bums and/or shit – that’s 30%!

I wonder what a therapist would make of that? Personally, I think it’s because the humour appeals to me. As Cary Grant said once about his comedies, no matter how dignified a fellow may be, at least two or three times every day something happens to him – slipping on a banana or some such thing – and the dignity goes out the door. And that’s funny.

However, of the posts I put up my favourite, hands down, is Can you hear me now? It’s about why we blog. (I may re-order this list to something that reflects how I rate them rather than chronological.)

I think the other two I liked were Arriving where we started and The Dancing Man. They may not be written as well or as completely as I would have liked, but the thoughts behind them made them favourites.

I also noticed I wrote a lot of pointless, crappy posts. But that’s the way of things, isn’t it? As Theodore Sturgeon once said, “90 percent of everything is crud.”

Tag: Blogging, Favorite posts, How to become an idiot

It's all about tea now

No Glenfiddich tonight. I had WAY too much wine today (and a few too many Stella Artois) to even look at scotch.

So I’m heavily into tea now.

“There is no better thing than tea …” I love tea. And while one of my favourites is Tazo’s Zen (green tea), nothing beats the garden variety, run of the mill orange pekoe.

Having polished off one pot, I think it's time to make another now. Yes, I do. ‘Scuse me …

Tags: Tea

Am I really posting on Christmas Eve?

It is Christmas Eve. It’s very late. And I don’t give a flying fuck about anything. It’s really quite grand. I’m in a very sweet place – but maintaining it over the next year … Ah! That’s the trick.

Oh well … For now, I’m not worrying about that. I’m eyeing the Glenfiddich and thinking – yes, with a bit of ice, that would be a fine capper.

Toodle-oo, y’all. And may tomorrow be peaceful and fine.

Additional note: I'm listening to 'Making Spirits Bright', a Dean Martin disc of Christmas songs. Why, you may ask? Well, because Dino always sounds happy and half-in-the-bag. Now, if that's not the holiday spirit, I don't know what is. And if you're going to listen to music of the season, you can't go wrong with Dean. It's all very retro too. So you have this illusion that your hip and cool when you most certainly are not.

Yet another additional note: I really do hope this doesn't come out the wrong way, but on an unrelated note ... As the most goy of goyim, I never know if it's Chanukah or Hanukkah. Of course as the year's have passed by, I'm no longer sure if it's Christmas or Xmas.

And here in Alberta, where we have a lot of Ukrainians, we celebrate Ukrainian Christmas, January 7th (I think that's Twelfth Night, for those of you who are into Shakespeare) ...

Perhaps we should come up with a generic celebratory greeting that goes something like, "Enjoy whatever it is you celebrate and enjoy during late December, early January, or any other time of the year that might encompass your traditions, beliefs and/or cultural preferences.”

Hey – I have the greeting! Maybe something as simple as a smile? In other words, whoever you are, I hope all is well with you and continues to be well. And if it isn't well, I hope it gets that way damn quick!

Tags: How to become an idiot

Slapstick, fiasco and solstice – this fool’s life

First of all, please note this is one of the best days of the year. How is that, you ask? It’s dark, winter is about to begin officially, there’s seasonal stress and so on. How can that be good?

Because from here on in, the sun is coming back. More light every day. It’s a slow build, mind you, but build it does. With a tenacity that will not be denied, the sun is wiping out the dark. Fittingly, I’m listening to Kate Bush, “The sun’s coming out! The sun’s coming out!” The song’s “Cloudbusting,” with the great lines,

Oh, I just know that something good is going to happen,
And I don’t know when.
But just saying it could even make it happen.

But on the subject of the slapstick life

I took today off. I thought, “Great googley-moogley! It’s damn near Christmas – I outta do something about that.” So with the best intentions, I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to set up my wireless network.

Yeah, well it should have taken a half hour tops but … oh, I don’t want to begin. Let’s just say if the idiots who make these things were dying of thirst and had to ask for water they wouldn’t be able to. Because they don’t know how to communicate the simplest things!

Anyway … I eventually get out of the house. I go downtown. Everyone’s rushing around, looking frantic. I’m concerned. I enter the mall – but I don’t know why. What am I going to get? Who for? I haven’t considered these crucial questions. I’m just down there ‘cause I figure I better do something, and do it soon.

As it turns out, here was also something else I needed to do – and damn quick!

I don’t wish to be unpleasant, but as I wandered aimlessly, clearly without purpose, a rather alarming realization came to me.

My ass was going to explode!

What’s that about? Where’d it come from? What did I eat that wanted to get back out with the quality and power of an upthrusting lava expulsion?

Why me? Why now?

Even had I seen something I had wanted to buy, one glance told me there was no way I’d be standing calmly and patiently in one of those lines waiting to pay up. The remainder of my day, and there was not much left of it as it was late afternoon, was given over to panic and sphincter control.

There is no Zen meditation that will help you with this. No mantra to calm the roiling innards when they are determined to blast.

Precious time was wasted as I debated – do I use a public facility (please answer no)? Or have I the constitutional strength to go home? Should I choose the latter, I would be empty-handed as far as purchases went, but my pants would be empty too – and surely that’s a good thing?

I decided to go home. I’m sure the other bus riders considered me a rather stern and unfriendly looking fellow, given the season, but had they known the nature of my internal struggle, I’m sure they would have understood. And likely would have yelled at the driver, “For the love of Mike – step on it!”

Well, I got home. I attended to my business which proved to be as ugly as it threatened. But at least no public humiliation was incurred.

And what was it I ate today? A Big Extra at McDonalds. Some extra!

How’s that for a Christmas story?

And don't forget - Best Blogs 2005

I neglected to mention … Kris has tackled the mind-numbing (and finger-numbing, I should imagine) task of compiling some 70 posts from various bloggers from 2005. Including another of my shit posts. (I hope this doesn’t become a personal theme for me.) Now you can read the joys, the shames, the traumas and foibles of the blog world, just by going to Your Best of 2005 (or, It's not a competition already).

Tags: How to become an idiot

Big Salami Boy - Thank you Dr. White!

I wasn't paying attention and opened an e-mail with the following incredible news:

Our research facility has just concluded a 2 year study on a product called "L-0-N-G-Z". Dr. White and myself are not embarrassed to test products that increase the size of the male genitals.

This product did better than any other tests we have carried out on similar products. Our results are concluded on the product website, and soon this product will be available to you in stores.

I can hardly wait. I may even change my name officially to Big Salami Boy. It's good to know there are dedicated professionals hard at work on the important issues of our lives. Soon I'll be buying underwear marked XXX-Large. I can hardly wait.

I wonder, though ... just what kind of testing went on? What kind of results did they get from the products that didn't work? Smaller genitals? Misshapen ones? Girth without length? Length without girth? What exactly were the failures?

Tags: Big Salami Boy, How to become an idiot

Hoarfrost in the morning

A day or two ago I woke to a foggy, icy morning. Day dawns darkly (forgive the alliteration) and, as a result, grimly in these parts.

But eventually the sun drags its ass up the sky and peers over the building tops and light passes over us and we see what day has brought us.

The other day, it was hoarfrost. I love the look of it. It's absolutely breathtaking in Edmonton's River Valley (sorry, no pictures). But ...

Yes, there is a downside. Hoarfrost usually means damn cold. As was the case here. The night before it was foggy. But not foggy like, say, Victorian London. Here, winter fog generally means ice crystals. A chilly mist sort of settles over everything, and it's quite enchanting in an ethereal kind of way.

But it tends to mean temperatures dropping, as they did in this case. And dropping considerably.

It's really quite astonishing how gorgeous calamity can be. And yes, as far as I'm concerned, cold is a calamity.

Oddly, next week temperatures go back up and, if the weather guys are correct in this, what snow and ice we have will be gone and Christmas will not be white but, rather, variations on khaki and dun.

Five wierd habits - Piddleville edition

Only five? ... This was prompted because of Brooke, so here's my contribution:

1) I put off getting haircuts. My hair starts getting long. Then I start playing with the long locks at the back of my head, especially while watching movies. I don't object to this habit, though. I think this is what hair is for. Playing with.

2) I can't wear pyjama bottoms because they bunch up behind your knees so, in the winter when it's cold and I know I'm going to be sleeping alone, I sleep wearing longjohns. I look like Don Knotts in tights. But I sleep well. On the whole, I prefer butt naked but I live in Canada so, in winter, it's huge heating bills, small testicles or longjohns. I choose longjohns.

3) I arrive at appointments late because I hate getting somewhere and waiting for late people, which most people are. I will walk around the block three times if I get somewhere on time, just to be late.

4) I've got the OCD thing happening. There's a flight of stairs I have to descend to leave my place. Whenever I leave, I travel them at least three times as I check and recheck things like the coffee maker - is it off? Of course it is. I know that. But I check it again anyway.

5) I am particular about how and when and the order of food and beverages I consume. I can only drink coffee in the morning. Tea in the afternoon. Wine in the evening. Salad has to be WITH a meal, not before it. Wine must be WITH the meal, not before it. People, well-intentioned though they may be, are always offering the wrong beverage. I mean, you just don't drink wine with potato chips. I'm sorry, that is SO wrong. Your damned palate should tell you that.

Tag: Five wierd habits, How to become an idiot

A seasonal bit of musing

I’ve read a number of blogs (including my own) that have essentially been whining about what a wretched Christmas this one appears to be. And how appalling Christmas has become. And I can’t disagree.

But …

Like everything else, some Christmas seasons are grand, and some – not so much. Well, if this one sucks, perhaps the next one won’t. Actually, I take some hope in the number of people who find Christmas a depressingingly vulgar farce with all the spirituality of a car dealership commercial. Maybe Christmas, as it’s currently constituted, will go south and change. Stranger things have happened.

Whatever … I have a prediction about this one. Somewhere closer to the actual day, perhaps following an unexpected snowfall, or at least somewhere beyond this disruptive full moon period, views will change.

The so-called “spirit” of the season will eventually infect those who have yet to feel it, and the grumpiness will dissipate.

There will be a moment, short-lived though it may be, where we’ll think, “That wasn’t so bad. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

It’s happened before. At least to me. And unexpectedly.

Busy and upside down

While I don’t like being bored, I don’t like being busy either. And lately my world has been really busy, and not with the sorts of things I’d like to be busy with.

Following a labour blip of several months, the workplace is back on track and now everyone is running around in a kind of catch-up mode – and it’s just way to hectic. And there’s just way too much to do.

And so my blogging kind of hit a wall. Even when I had time to blog my brain was too fried so I would just stare at the screen. Had I posted last week, the posts would have consisted of, “Duh.”

Maybe I should have posted that.

I did manage to comment on a few blogs. But it seems to me they amounted to the ravings of a lunatic.

Christmas upside down

It’s also the time of year. At the risk of sounding Grinch-like, I think Christmas (the good part of it) lasts roughly 3 to 6 hours. It begins on Christmas Eve, sometime after 6:00 pm, and lasts until you go to bed. Basically, it’s the brief period when you can’t buy anything, and no can rush you off to this or that because everything’s closed, and no one has a social event planned that you need to rush to and all the stress crap ends, if only briefly.

One of the most annoying comments I hear about the Christmas season and how vulgar it is now (it’s not a religious season and it’s not a family-oriented season and it’s not a season of good cheer – it’s a marketing campaign) is how Christmas has to be the way it is because so many businesses are dependent on it to make their year.

I say, let ‘em go under.

It may sound as if I hate Christmas. But I don’t. I love it. I just hate what we’ve turned it into.

I find it fascinating that they are now selling upside down Christmas trees – really. It’s true. And I think, what a perfect symbol for what we’ve turned Christmas into. Something upside down.

"Everything's made to be broken ..."

Tag: Christmas, Blogs

I wanna be a cowboy

Let me tell you something, this was some kind of week. And I don’t know where this post is going, and I don’t rightly care. I say it that way, “… I don’t rightly care …” because of the book I’m currently reading and the picture I’ve decided to throw up here.

The book I’m reading is “No Country for Old Men” by Cormac McCarthy who, if you are unfamiliar with his works, is one helluva a brilliant stylist but the also one helluva grim son-of-a-bitch. Cormac – lighten up pal!

Geez ... the guy is an absolutely wonderful writer of prose. But with the exception of a comic scene in one of his earlier novels, he's obsessed with violence and life as a bleak fiasco.

Anyway … this picture is from my country radio station days. I use to work in radio. Long ago, I lived in Ottawa, Ontario and I was working in a book store. I needed a job. I was a radio guy so I looked for a radio job. I found one in Edmonton, Alberta.

I thought, “What the hell? Let’s try it out.” So I travelled across a fistful of miles and took up residence at the local (Edmonton) YMCA, where I lived for a week. Note: sleeping on a bed at the YMCA is like sleeping on a cobblestone street that has a flannel sheet thrown over it.

So … I take the job. I get to Edmonton. I arrive at work. In my head, a realization dawns, “This is a country station.” I didn’t know that when I took the job. I thought I was going to a rock or pop kind of station. I knew jackshit about country music.

It was an education.

Today, I quite enjoy country music though, as with all music, I am particular. I love your Ricky Scaggs, your George Jones and your Dwight Yokam and Patsy Cline and the Carter Family. What passes for country, which is essentially pop music with steel guitars, I’m not so big on.

Whatever … the accompanying picture is me at CISN-FM, circa about 15 years ago? That’s a wild guess. I don’t know when it was taken. But I like the fact Clint’s in there.

And you know something? This is not the post I thought I would post. I thought I would tell you why I haven’t been posting anything this week and why the comments I’ve left at other blogs were so … scattered and stupid.

Maybe that will be tomorrow’s post.

Tag: Cormac McCarthy, Radio, Country music

What is a meme?

As far as I can tell, it's a quiz people fill out publicly through blogs. So, having seen this one done by both Brooke and Ubermilf, I have followed suit knowing, as I do, that the world is unable to sleep until it sees my answers. So, be anxious no longer! Here they are:

3 names I go by:
Bill
Wern (don’t ask)
William

3 screen names I have:
piddleville
goatboy
writelife

3 physical things I like about myself:
My hair
My face
My bone structure (yes, really)

3 physical things I don't like about myself:
Nose hairs
Stomach
Feet

3 parts of my heritage:
Irish
Scottish
English

3 things that scare me:
Guns
Spiders
Religious fanatics

3 of my everyday essentials:
Computer
Tea
Music

3 of my favorite musicians:
Van Morrison
Emmylou Harris
Duke Ellington
(This list changes almost daily … for example, Cyndi Lauper will be on it tomorrow, as will Bruce Springsteen and Julie London.)

3 of my favourite songs:
Thunder Road (Bruce Springsteen)
Tupelo Honey (Van Morrison)
Factory Girl (The Rolling Stones)
(This also changes almost daily – for example, tomorrow one of these will be replaced by “Blonde On Blonde” by Nada Surf.)

3 things I want in a relationship:
Laughter
Trust
Ideas

3 lies I tell:
No, I’m fine.
Yes, this is really interesting.
That doesn’t make your ass look big at all.

3 physical things about the opposite sex that appeal to me:
Smiles
Eyes
Curves

3 of my hobbies right now:
Writing
Movies
Reading

3 things I want to do really badly now (with a special someone):
Nipple taste test
Wake up in the same bed on a Sunday morning, look at one another, say, “Fuck it!” and go back to sleep
Go camping and share the same sleeping bag

3 careers I've considered doing:
Radio announcer
Screenwriter
Hollywood heartthrob

3 places I would like to go on vacation to:
Hawaii
Sao Tome
Costa Rica (Pacific side)

3 kid's names I like:
Tenacity
Grace
Molly

3 things I want to do before I die:
Write a great story
Meet someone who turns my life upside down
Be successful doing something impractical

3 ways that I'm a stereotypical guy:
Fart if I think no one’s paying attention
Don’t put things away
Get my haircut four to six weeks after I should

3 ways that I'm a stereotypical girl:
Prefer romantic movies to action films
Bored by what TV thinks of as “male programming”
More interested by women’s conversations (although they’re extremely difficult to follow since they follow several threads simultaneously).

3 people I would like to see take this quiz:
God
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
My dad (now, that would be some trick since he's been dead about 15 years - still, I'd like to see him do it!)

Self-amusing: my happy tunes list

When we want to sing, we sing.
When we want to dance, we dance.
You can do your betting, we're getting
Some fun out of life.

During the week, at work, we got into a lengthy e-mail exchange as we attempted to create a playlist(s). We got onto one theme, love songs that were the opposite of love, and that got pretty grim. So I suggested an alternative list. From that, I decided to make my “Happy Thirteen” (we figured on 13 as a good number of songs).

Anyway … I liked my “Happy Thirteen” idea and this morning decided to create it for my iPod. As it turned out my “Happy Thirteen” is actually 21 songs, and there are some missing and new ones I keep coming up with.

They aren’t necessarily songs that are, “Gosh, aren’t I happy today” but rather songs that just make me feel good – as opposed to most songs which, good as they are, make me want to jump off a bridge. I’m not big on false optimism or phoney-baloney cheer, but I do believe in feeling good as opposed to bad, so for what it’s worth, this is what I’ve got in my iPod now.

Are these songs available on iTunes? Buggered if I know. The list:

- That's What I Think - Cyndi Lauper (Hat Full of Stars)
- I Can See Clearly Now - Jimmy Cliff
- One Big Love - Emmylou Harris (Red Dirt Girl)
- Wild Wild Life - Talking Heads (Best of)
- Sunset - Kate Bush (Aerial)
- Mis Dos Pequenas - Orlando Cachaito Lopez (Cachaito)
- Three J's Blues - Duke Ellington & His Award Winners (Blues in Orbit)
- High Society Calypso - Louis Armstrong (Cocktails with Cole Porter)
- Jump in the Line - Harry Belafonte (Greatest Hits)
- Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) - Bruce Springsteen (Essential)
- Careless Love - Dr. John (Best of the Parlophone Years)
- (Getting Some) Fun Out Of Life - Madeleine Peyroux (Dreamland)
- Running from Mercy - Rickie Lee Jones (Traffic from Paradise)
- May This Be Love - Emmylou Harris (Wrecking Ball)
- Sleep - Conjure One (Conjure One)
- Bang a Gong (Get It On) - T. Rex (Electric Warrior)
- Product Of Misery - Cyndi Lauper (Hat Full of Stars)
- Blonde On Blonde - Nada Surf (Soundtrack - Love Song for Bobby Long)
- Raised On Robbery - Joni Mitchell (Court and Spark)
- Always - Leonard Cohen (The Future)
- This Is Heaven To Me - Madeleine Peyroux (Careless Love)

Missing from list (for now):
- Shiny Happy People - R.E.M. (Out of Time)
- Comfort You - Van Morrison (Veedon Fleece)

Note:
The disc Cachaito, Orlando Cachaito Lopez, is kinda latin jazz and is a big favourite of mine. It's one of those discs that didn't do much for me at first but grew on me till one day, as I listened, I thought, "Damn! This is good!"

Tag: Music, iPod