Happy 40th Dan.

Yesterday I met Dan. He voted for Hillary Clinton. These were his first words to me and my friend,

"I voted for Hillary" he said as we crossed the road at Broadway and Commercial. We were on our way home from work.

"Were you in the States or did you write her name on your ballot?" I looked at my coworker and she smiled. I think we both understood he didn't vote at all. "I just want to get attention, I didn't really vote. I'm sorta drunk, actually." he wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I've been just saying stuff to people to get a reaction." He was a fairly together looking man except for the toque on his head and the bottle of pop in his arm. It was more the way he was holding the bottle of pop, pocketed into his elbow, as if it was a football and he was a running back. Apperantly it was mixed with booze.

We were across the road and my friend had to part with me. My first thought was that I should keep this guy occupied while she walked away. However, it didn't take long to see this wasn't going to be that kind of interaction.

I asked him his name and he was a little excitable. His thoughts seemed to run together, but he was completely coherent and in the moment. The conversation was not very linear from that point on. He sometimes mentioned that he didn't really vote or that his birthday was on Saturday (maybe he'd get some booze or if he's lucky coke). Regardless of the topic, he'd always throw in that he was trying to get some attention.

The fog was thick that day and very damp on my person. I was wearing business dress pants, made of next to nothing. Thin enough to let the wind through, the shivering had started in my legs. Now we had been speaking for fifteen minutes. I felt somewhat guilty, complaining in my head about the cold, as he says "So I'm homeless. I'll be forty on Saturday" and mentions his options to celebrate again. As we consolidate our feelings on drug addiction I think about the cold again.

"I didn't really vote for Hillary, I've just been saying that to people" and I wonder, as you the reader may be, if this was going anywhere. and then it does...

"Humans are good, don't listen to that crap." "What crap?" You were thinking it too. He answers, "the crap that people aren't good, cuz they are." I realize the obvious, he means that people are good and nothing more. It was not complicated, but I was somehow completely moved. A guy who had been looking for attention, pocketing a booze bottle in his elbow, with nowhere to live actually felt that things were going to be ok. "Things are going to be ok" he said, that's how I knew his feelings. "but don't vote for Harper again, vote Hillary, or maybe Obama"

I was moved, but I was cold. If I had been talking to a good friend, I would have excused myself by now and been home, in a thick hoodie. I offered my hand to him, because he deserved a congratulations. I said with recognition "I sure am glad to hear people still think it's going to be alright." Our hands raised a little, still clasping, his a little harder than before. They were around the height of our chest, but the hand shake had somehow shifted.

I didn't mind that we were still touching, but we were at the corner of Commercial and Broadway (5pm). I felt somehow strange, picture the promenade in square dancing, this is how our hands were being held. We continued to talk, mostly him, while I nodded. I tried every trick in the book to excuse myself. None of it worked, we were even shifting in a circle, round and round, holding hands. So very close to breaking out in a waltz, I realize he needed attention. He had said so many times. I had been completely moved by this guy and even revived a bit. Yet, I had not heard a word he said. I said "Dan." He said,"You be good" he knew what was coming. "I have to go, so I'm going to give you a hug and then I'm going to go." I was cold, but I would be warm soon, his hands were very clammy as he let go of mine. We hugged. It wasn't too long, or too short. Just long enough for both of us. He wiped his cheek. It was just a tear, but he was crying and so was I.

"I Voted for Hillary" he yelled at a lady with a large hat.

A lighthouse in the fog.

For the past week, or what seems like five weeks, we have had a very thick fog in Vancouver. Something that at first thought seems different or weird for this region. Many people have made comments on what seems like the usual banter about the daily weather, only now about fog. I hear hourly in my surroundings, "this fog sure is strange" and " Vancouver hasn't seen this type of fog in ever" then there is my personal favorite "this is all because of the inversion". This last one is at the top of my list because it's thrown around so very loosely. "The rare and strange inversion is causing this air mass to ... yadda yadda", from both meteorologists, bus patrons and co-workers alike. However, from what I can gather (and I'm not a meteorologist) inversion is necessary for almost all fog. So is inversion really that rare when fog is present? I asked this once and the response I got was that it was rare, for this region, but not necessarily as a phenomenon. This caused me to think. Ok, we are a city that is a harbor, surrounded by mountains and formerly a rain forest. Is it fog really rare. Those sound like perfect conditions for fog! Now, I'm not only not a meteorologist, but I'm also no (I am now looking up the most appropriate profession) ...geologist? So I'm not sure, but these thoughts of our conditions here, in this city, make me more curious as to why we aren't best friends with inversion.

But I digress...

Yesterday the skies opened up, or as they say, the fog cleared. There it was low and behold... the beautiful sight of the City of Vancouver. Man it was stunning. I had forgotten what anything that wasn't seven feet in front of me looked like. This is why the view of the mountains, majestic and white, not a cloud to be seen was so refreshing. I heard a much different tone from the players of weather talk, now it was stuff like, "as soon as that sun comes out you feel different, don't ya?" or the joyful "beautiful day innit?" and on the other end of the spectrum, my favourite " Sure is F'n great out!" The joy was over whelming, everyone could see and appreciate the beauty that hid behind the misty curtains that had been pulled back. Revealing the beauty that we knew was there, but could only dream of grasping in the depths of fog.

Two days and two nights with no blindness during day, no calling out in front of you, no scary road crossings, not knowing if some car is speeding your way. Most noticeably, no deep bellowing and somber sound of the lighthouse in the night warning the ships of potential danger.

and like the scar in the valley our city is, it hit me. The fog in our life is only here to help us weed through the dismal life, working towards the beauties that lie behind. So I welcome you, oh rare inversion, my friend whom no other can understand. You are the lighthouse, in the dismal life I refuse to acknowledge. Today I go without you, clear headed, happy and hopeful; but perhaps tomorrow I will wander again, with only the deep horn and your light's blip in the sky, to guide me through a night.

Happy wave riding everyone.

Obamanos

Ok tomorrow Bush is out of office (maybe). And Obama is in. 


More to come, on the fog, in a bit.

wow the fog is really thick, this is wierd for Vancouver.

Interesting thing fact for work...

This summer I spent a couple of weeks in Trinidad. While there, I was digging holes for septic tanks. It was part of a volunteer program that is similar to habitat for humanity. I dug a large hole with a group of four people (including myself). The hole was big enough to fit all of us in it when we were done (standing!). It rained half the time we were working and we spent a large portion of our time, re- digging the holes and draining buckets of water. When we completed and installed the tank, we were done! It was super rewarding because the residents of the homes that were having bathrooms added to them, were there through the entire process. They shared stories of their lives and island history that was very interesting and entertaining.

Just Remember....anything you need to

There are a number of belief systems that imply there is an endless supply of knowledge available to each and every one of us. Accessible through mere thought and experience, this knowledge goes beyond the ordinary systemic acquisition methods we are familiar with - through reading, teachers and the lessons that everyday life offers. It is a knowledge that is ingrained in the basic existence of our being. Through a millennium of collective experiences, we as humans and all which surrounds us, have created this knowledge base and thus it is accessible to us by just reaching for it. I won't go deeper into this idea for now, but it is a need to know concept in order to accept the idea of helping each other 'remember' the information stored all around us.

In each of our waking moments we have the ability to use this information to change and transform the way we deal with our everyday life, as well as mold the way we interact with each other. I relate the idea of 'remembering' here in these articles as a notion of accessing this data base of experience, as a supplement of remembering our own experiences. With the knowledge of things that other people have learned, we can build upon the already large amount of information that is out there. We utilize daily the memories we have stored in our own consciousness, to make important and non-important decisions. For example, once you have touched a hot stove and burned yourself you are likely to recall this moment before doing it a second time. This recall, or 'remembering' is important to our daily growth. I think you might agree, if we all spent the same amount of time burning ourselves without changing our behavior, we wouldn't get very far. Within the same thought of growing, wouldn't it be efficient to be able to utilize the experiences and learning of others ina moment of time, to grow instantly. This sharing of experience, or helping each other to remember our shared knowledge, is the backbone to this growth process. Especially the ability to see a difference of perspective, in any instance, can help to change yours or another's reaction.

With this in mind, I bring you the vessel for my own 'remembering'. Experiences that have shown me things that may well illuminate a future moment. I hope to pass them to you so that we may live a lighter and easier life. So with me, please, Just Remember.

winter wonderland.

For the past four days we have had snow falling to the ground. In a city carved out of a tropical forest, it has been snowing for four days. It seems strange that everyone's biggest concern, right now, is their drive to work. What about myself? Me.... I'm torn about how I feel. I moved out here to have mild weather and that was provided for me during the first three years of my stay here. However, not a mere 8 days ago, I was swearing at the mildly glum and wet eco system that is Vancouver. It's the end of the year holiday season and I could not feel less festive... or at least that was true a week ago. You see, I am filled with glee as the snow falls to my feet. It feels like christmas now and that's pretty cool. This feeling inspired me to get on here and remind everyone of a great holiday message. This holiday season as you shivver your butts off in the snow and ice, be sure to enjoy it. Because inevitably we will all be burning in hell for doing this to the earth.

Happy Holidays!

This is the land of confusion

There are so many things happening in the world that it's pretty hard to distinguish what is right or wrong. We find ourselves (hopefully) questioning the everyday life we live and the leaders which provision this life. It's hard to decide between the hard fight, going about living our lives in a manner which can be enjoyable in each individual moment, and blindly working/living like ants. Human enslavement is rampant and ever growing in every crevice of our society and on all levels. Whether a classic form of captive human labor or the constant control of human minds by virtual vices and life styles.

How do we break free, what choices have to be made and how extreme are the changes going to be? These questions stop us from moving forward. The human ego and all that we've built our existence on, are the actual problems. To remove them we must change them, to change them we must remove them.

How the hell can we do that?

Steve went there once.

I was sitting on the curb waiting for a ride. I hadn't had my car on the road in nearly five years. It was some how liberating and restricting all at once, but Ben didn't mind coming to get me when it was times like these. I was wearing some belled 'fat' pants and a hoodie that was bright orange. The brand name spewed across the front above the single pocket meant for both of your hands. Some combination of letters standing for something that was too cool for me to remember now nearly 8 years later. I had danced all night and sweat to my hearts content and not once taken off the eye catching sweater. At least six people had struck up conversation with me through the night, just because of this piece of clothing. But now with the sun being up for a couple hours and me sitting here on this curb in a small town I've never been in, I was getting hot. I took the sweater off to let my body breathe, and I exposed my San Quinten "jail house" rock shirt. I wrapped the sweater around my waist like it was the eighties and I stood up to do this. As I finished up the shirt sleeve cuff tuck at the front, I turned around. And when I turned around there was a large man standing only three feet from me. He had crossed the road as I was standing and was now only an arm short of reaching me. I was noticeably startled, as my nerves had been shot by a combination of no sleep and over indulgence the night before. I stopped breathing and stood as still as I could, playing possum in the street, almost literally. The rather large man with a leather jacket, some dark glasses, a shaved head and what appeared to be a thick chain in his hands, lifted his hand to my chest. I didn't know what was happening. Would I survive till Ben came to get me? Is this man going to hurt me? Did I just pee myself? He stuck his finger into my chest pointing at me, quite painfully, and he says; "My friend Steve went there once". I looked dumbly at him, not wanting to be rude I said back, "Oh yah?"

He exposed his messed up teeth and walks past me saying, "Oh yah and not on a tour either."