Poetry

My mom got this poem at some point and it hung on our fridge for a long time. I'm not sure why, but it was there. I am not a big fan of most poetry, but it always resonated strongly with me for some reason, and it is one of my favorite poems. It is a shortened version of the original, which I didn't find out until years later.

To Santa Claus and Little Sisters

Once ... he wrote a poem.
And called it "Chops",
Because it was the name of his dog, and that's what it was all about.
And the teacher gave him an "A"
And a gold star,
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door, and read it to all his aunts ...

Once ... he wrote another poem.
And he called it "Question Marked Innocence".
Because that was the name of his grief and that's what it was all about.
And the professor gave him an "A"
And a strange and steady look.
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door,
Because he never let her see it ...

Once, at 3 a.m. ... he tried another poem ...
And he called it absolutely nothing, because that's what it was all about.
And he gave himself an "A"
And a slash on each damp wrist,
And hung it on the bathroom door because he couldn't reach the kitchen.

This poem was written by a 15-year old boy, 2 years before he committed suicide, most likely in the late-60's.

Here's the original:

To Santa Claus and Little Sisters

Once,
On yellow paper, with green lines, he wrote a poem,
And called it "Chops",
Because that was the name of his dog,
And that’s what it was all about.
And the teacher gave him an "A"
And a gold star,
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door,
And read it to all his aunts.
That was the year his sister was born,
With tiny toenails and no hair,
And Father Tracy took them to the zoo
And let them sing on the bus.
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a Christmas card
Signed with a row of x's.
And his father always tucked him in at night,
And he was always there to do it.

Once,
On white paper, with blue lines, he wrote another poem.
And he called it "Autumn"
Because that was the name of a season,
And that’s what it was all about.
And the teacher gave him an "A"
And told him to write more clearly.
And his mother didn’t hang it on the kitchen door
Because the door
Had just been painted.
That was the year his sister got glasses,
With black frames and thick lenses.
And the kids told him why father and mother
Kissed a lot,
And that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews,
And the girl around the block laughed
When he went to see Santa Claus at Macy’s.
And his father stopped tucking him in bed at night,
And got mad when he cried for him to.

Once,
On paper torn from his notebook, he wrote another poem,
And he called it "Question Marked Innocence",
Because that was the name of his grief
And that’s what it was all about.
And the professor gave him an "A"
And a strange and steady look.
And his mother never hung it on the door
Because he never let her see it.
That year he found his sister necking on the back porch
And his parents never kissed, or even smiled.
And he forgot how the end of the "Apostle’s Creed" went,
And Father Tracy died.
And the girl around the block wore too much make-up
That made him cough when he kissed her,
But he kissed her anyway.

Once,
At 3 a.m., he tucked himself in bed,
His father snoring soundly.
He tried another poem, on the back of a pack of matches,
And he called it "absolutely nothing"
Because that’s what it was all about.
And he gave himself an "A"
And a slash on each damp wrist,
And hung it on the bathroom door,
Because he couldn’t reach the kitchen.

Sunshine Cleaning

This is a quality movie, you should watch it.

There's no big conflict (which I hate anyway), Amy Adams stars (who's my new celebrity crush, bumping nicole kidman from that spot), and it's just a great movie. Really likable characters, fun storyline and good ending.

Quote of the Day

This quote is from the beginning of a Conan novel I read in high school. I wrote it out on a cue card and hung it on my bulletin board for a very long time. It's quality.

"Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural. It is a whim of circumstance. And barbarism must always ultimately triumph."
-Border guard on the Pictish border (of Cimmeria)

Hunting

A couple of days ago I found out that our quirky drama teacher is quite into hunting; everything from bow to rifle to muzzleloader. I was talking to him about it this morning, saying that I'm just getting into it, and he invited me out on a 4-day whitetail deer hunt the week before the long weekend. Apparently he has permission to hunt on some land about an hour north of the city and him and some guys go out there every year in the first week of bow hunting season and get some deer. And he invited me! Sweet!
Hunting is a tough thing to get into alone. It's so much easier when you have other people to show you the ropes and get into it, so this would be the perfect time for me. That and he has extra gear like tree stands and blinds, which I don't own yet.
So it's pretty exciting. I'm not sure how I'm going to swing time off for then as it's the week before school starts, but I'm going to see what I can do. It's too good of an opportunity to pass up.

8 years

On Tuesday Mama Bean and I celebrated 8 years together. Well, maybe not so much celebrated, but we realized that it was on that day 8 years previous that we became a couple and have been together ever since.
8 years. 96 months. 3 years of which were long distance with her in the states. That's a long freakin' time. Most marriages don't last that long.
When we first started dating we celebrated every 'monthiversary.' We did it for years; right up until the wedding actually. Since then we haven't done it so much any more, but on the 23rd of each month I still usually think about it.

Back in May it felt weird to tell people that it was our second anniversary as we've been together hella longer than that. And while May 5th, 2007 will always be the official start to our life together, June 23, 2001 will always be the actual day we started spending our life together.

Sometime in the last 8 years Mama Bean and I came up with 1+1=11, two uniquely individual numbers, yet together they make a single number. We were never a fan of 1+1=1 or 1+1=2 as they always seem to lose the fact that we are both still individuals. I wonder what it is when we have our little bean in the fall? :)

I couldn't have met a better woman to marry than Jo. Every morning I wake up, roll over and smile because this wonderful person is in bed next to me. Nothing could make me happier. And to think that by the time our next anniversary rolls around we'll be a family of three. Life doesn't get any better than when you are surrounded with great people that love you.

Group Blogging Project

So I'm taking part in this group blogging project on Servolution. Servolution is the new(ish) book by Dino Rizzo that's all about getting out there and serving people. It's a pretty awesome book so far (i'm on chapter 2), and it's cool to see what other people have to say about it.

I wrote more about it on my Twisted Christian blog. You should check it out. :)

Peni

You know what are weird? Penises. (Peni?) Penises and their sidekick the testes.
There's no way male genitalia is the product of evolution. We went from little organisms that mated by touching surfaces to having these dangly things between our legs that we stick into the hole of our mate? Nope, I call bullshit. Nobody but a God with a sense of humor created these wrinkly little pieces of skin and flesh that hang between a mans legs.

Seriously, they are so weird. Dangly little bits of of skin and flesh that facilitate in urination and baby-making? For 90% of your life they do nothing but get in the way. When you are young they pick the most inopportune time to make their presence known, and when you are old they pick and choose when they want to make their presence known, if at all. And why does it just hang there? Why didn't we get a pouch or something where we could tuck it up out or harms way? Why is something that is so vitally important the weakest link? Everything else has hard bones or even cartilage. Peni is spongy tissue that fills with blood to get hard. There is nothing in terms of self preservation. Thank you Lorainna Bobbit for teaching us this.

I've never understood the appeal of them, probably because I'm straight, but seriously... I just don't get it. I'm glad women do, but I think it will always remain a mystery to me.

And then there is the penis' best buddy and faithful companion, the testes. The testes are, without question, the most important part of the male sexual reproductive system, and they are protected by a hairy (usually), wrinkly (always), sack of skin. I'm mean, "C'MON!" A wrinkly, hairy sack of thin skin to protect these most important (and pain sensitive) or organs? What about some armor-plating, or even better, why aren't they inside of our bodies with the other vital organs? Why are they dangling out in the breeze, without a care in the world? Don't they understand how important they are? And how much it HURTS when they get injured? It doesn't even take much to injure them, they are friggin delicate! Why are they outside of my body cavity?!?

But it is here to stay, and we've grown quite attached so I think I'll keep it. I just think they could have been better designed in the first place. And while I'll never understand the appeal of them, I'm glad my wife does. :)

It's hard to work with people...

It's hard to work with people who are ignorant and/or inconsiderate. People who think that they are the center of the universe and everything has to revolve around their wants and needs, perceived or otherwise. People who say shit like, "Well, it's not part of my job description," or "I have kids, that isn't going to work for me, I don't care if it screws everyone else over," or "well you're a guy, of course you would think that way."

It's hard to work with people who always expect you to be there to help them when they need it, and while their thankfulness may be sincere, it's the fact that they just expect you to help them at the drop of a hat and are annoyed when you don't/can't.

It's hard to work with people...

Weight Loss Update

So a little weight loss update.

At the end of March I broke 230, which was 20lbs lost since January. Well I haven't done much since then, and have been hovering between 227 and 232. Well I've decided I want to be 220 by my cousin's wedding on July 4th, and yesterday morning I weighed in at 226. This means I have 6lbs to lose by the end of the month. Last week I lost .4 lbs, so I figure if I kick it up a notch I should be able to drop these 6 lbs in the next three weeks.

I started running a few weeks back, and it's been a little rough, but it is slowly getting better. I've had bad knees since my swimming days growing up, but I find as long as I wear my neoprene knee brace and ice it when I get home I do alright.

I also got the P90X DVD workout program but it is a little too extreme for me still, so I need to continue my fitness plan and then I can start it. It's pretty intense and I'm looking forward to trying it out.

So here goes, 6lbs. I can do that. :)

Pregnant vs. Expecting

Mama Bean is pregnant.

We are expecting.

We are not pregnant. Mama Bean is.

There is a difference. Guys cannot be pregnant, nor do I think they can be expecting. Couples can be expecting, the mom-to-be can be expecting, the dad-to-be cannot.

One of God's creatures my ass

So almost every morning round about 5am I am awoken by one of God's wonderful creatures that sits in a tree in my neighbors yard and starts whistling. Now it isn't pretty, or musical, or lovely. It is a two-tone whistle that is repeated every 2 seconds for usually over 30 minutes.

Now the first morning this happened I got so pissed off that I went and slept in the basement until it was time to get up at 7 (when my lovely wife came down and woke me up).

The next morning I dragged a fan into our bedroom hoping the white noise would be enough to drown it out. I was wrong, and laid in bed fuming until it shut up.
The following morning I went to find ear plugs, which I couldn't, then went outside to find it and yell at it, throw rocks and sticks at it, whatever, but couldn't find it. I was so tired I fell back asleep anyway. That night I dug through my stuff until I found some earplugs and put them beside my bed.

I now use those earplugs almost every morning, and have gotten quite adept at putting them in. I hear that fucking bird, I roll over, get them in in about 5 seconds, and am back to sleep in under 10 seconds. But still...having to wake up every morning because of that fucking bird? I'm going to shoot it one of these days...if I can find it.

God might make all the creatures of this earth, and they might all be special, but I want to fucking kill this bird.

Garden Update

So last Friday we got a bit of a cold snap (and of course we decided to make that weekend our first camping trip of the year). It went down to just below zero and wreaked havoc on our beautiful garden.

In April or May, we decided we should get started on planting inside so that come planting time in our garden we'd have a nice crop of seedlings ready to go out. So we planted cauliflower, broccoli, watermelon, pumpkin, corn, peppers and tomatoes. Almost everything germinated on schedule, but they sort of stalled out. They grew on long spindly stalks and seemed to stretch for the sun coming in the windows. Most of the plants got some sort of secondary "real" leaves but they never reached the point of the seedlings you buy in the store.

Last week we decided that it was safe to put the seedlings into the ground, along with a row of geraniums and marigolds. We figured since June was underway and we were seeing average nighttime temps above 10 degrees that it would be safe to plant our delicate seedlings. I guess not.

We planted on Wednesday evening before small group, and they were looking nice in their new homes. I watered them and we left them to flourish. Well Friday comes around and so does the dreaded freezing temps.

We stopped by to check on our plot Sunday morning after returning from camping to find rows of death. Our plot is in the middle of the community garden, so we had to walk by a number of plots before reaching ours; all full of dead plants. Even those whose tomatoes were covered suffered. Some people had some pretty established plants and they were all withered and dying. I'm curious to go out tonight and see if some people's stuff has recovered, but I'm not holding out hope for our tiny, fragile plants.

So tonight we are going out to plant our tomatoes and peppers. We'll also turn in all the dead plants and see about using up the remaining seeds for the other crops we've already planted. It will mean a whole bunch of extras of some stuff, but that's alright. I'd rather have a nice full garden, and it also means less weeding.

It's just sad is all.

Hands Off?

While this image might address something that is important (i really don't know, ask me in 5 months) but right now it makes me laugh, and I hope I'm never that kind of parent.

Wedding Ceremony required?

For a Christian, is the wedding ceremony required to be considered married?

I don't think so.

Random Music Stuff

Celine Dion first released "It's all coming back to me now" in the summer of 1996. We were on a family vacation through the Okanogan in BC and driving through the orchards and such when it came on the radio. When it first started I swore it was a Meat Loaf song that I'd never heard (which is rare), or a new one, so I was pretty excited to say the least. But then this woman's voice starts singing, and I remember thinking to myself, "Oh, it's a duet." But it wasn't. I was just that whiny ass Celine Dion. *blech* Now I was only 13 at the time, but I was pretty pissed off that she was doing an obvious Meat Loaf song.

Years later I found it was originally intended for Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell 2, but "I'd do anything for love (But I won't do that)", which I think was a better choice, but then "It's all coming back to me now" was slated for Bat out of Hell 3.
The problem arose when Meat Loaf and Jim Steinman had a bit of a falling out in the mid 90's and he gave it to Celine. :p But they patched things up and it ended up being recorded for Bat out of Hell 3, on which he performs it with Marion Raven (previously of M2M fame) and a version that I find about 7 million times better than Celine Dion's, and I feel that things are a little more right in the world.
(Bat out of Hell 3 came out a few years ago, but I thought it is important enough that I can still bring it up)

A few years back Mama Bean and I went to see a bunch of concerts, and I figured I'd buy stuff from the opening bands in case they ever got popular. Opening for The Weakthan's or The Watchmen (I can't remember which) was this little band called The Longest Run. I quite enjoyed them, so I bought a t-shirt. The next weekend we saw Tegan and Sara, and opening for them was this little band called Metric. I wasn't a huge fan as their music was much less refined than it is now, and a little rockier. Not really my style, so I didn't buy any merch. Now who's the bigger band? lol At least I can say I saw Metric before they made it big.

I'm getting tired of music snobs. Everyone has an opinion, and they are flocking to the internet to tell everyone exactly what they think. For some reason I've been coming across a lot of pretentious people writing about music lately. I don't understand the attitude of going around saying so-and-so's music sucks and if you listen to it, then you have bad taste in music. Musical tastes, like religious beliefs, are personal beliefs, and when you insult them, you are insulting the person. When did it become acceptable to make personal attacks on people? Why is this an acceptable practice? Sure, you don't have to like something, but just because someone else does, it doesn't make them wrong, or a lesser person because of it. We all have our own preferences, so why does it have to be such an issue? Music snobs are assholes.

Home

I read a post from C Lo over at One Smarmy Mama that got me thinking about the concept of “home” and what it really is. Is it the place where you grew up? Is it the place you live now? Is it the place your parents or rest of your family live? Is it the place that all of those cliché sayings say it is? E.g. where the heart is. What is home?

While I used to think home and hometown were the same thing, the older I get, the more that changes. Is that just how it works, or does hometown always equal home, whether they live there or not?

Growing up, home was wherever I was living. We moved a lot for the first 9 years of my life when I lived in 6 different towns in various parts of the country from northern Manitoba, to southern Manitoba to the Yukon, to southern Alberta, back to northern Manitoba/Saskatchewan, and then finally up to the Northwest Territories where I spent almost 10 years of my life before moving back to Alberta and now I’m back in Manitoba.

For the first 9 years we were never in one place for more than 2 years, though why that changed when we moved to Yellowknife, I am not sure. I spent my formative years growing up in Yellowknife, grades 4-12. When someone asks, I say I grew up in Yellowknife. When I lived in Calgary, and someone asked me where I was from, I’d say Yellowknife. Yellowknife was my hometown, and even after 8 years of living in Calgary, I didn’t feel like I was from Calgary. Yellowknife was still where I was from, even though I hadn’t been there since graduating 8 years previous.

Now that I live in Winnipeg, I hate telling people that I’m from Calgary, it just feels wrong. It wouldn’t make sense to say I’m from Yellowknife, but I’m not from Calgary. I often say, “We moved here from Calgary, but I grew up in Yellowknife.” Now there’s nothing wrong with Calgary, but I’m not a Calgarian. It isn’t who I am, and I don’t want that label. I’m from a small town; I’m not a city boy.

So what is “home”? My hometown is Yellowknife, and after being away for almost 10 years I still miss it, but it is the place that I miss; the memories of the good times. I don’t miss the people. Is home defined by people or can it be defined by a place?

When I lived in Calgary, I called it home. It was where I lived, and where my family did also. Now I’m married and living in Winnipeg with my wife while the rest of my family is still in Calgary. Is home here, or back there?

For me, the concept of home has changed a lot over the years. It started with where my family lived, as I was a part of that unit. Then, when I moved out but still lived in the same city, home was my parents’ house. Even when I bought my own place, theirs was still home. Once I got married and we lived in a new place that we bought together, it still didn’t seem like home; more just a place we lived in. Home was still my parents’ house. Since moving to a new city, I feel that we are finally starting our own home. Our house is turning into our home, and I think that will be further cemented when bean is born in October. I know the house that we are living in now will not be our forever house, or even a house we are in for much more than another 4 years, but while we are there, it will be our home. Home is where I live with my wife, with my family. Home is a place that I live with people that I love.

The Meeting Place

Mama Bean and I went and checked out another church yesterday morning, and had a lot of fun. We went to the early service so that we could also hit up our normal church afterwards, which I'm really glad we did.
I posted some thoughts on The Meeting place over on Twisted Christian.