Another Generation of "Me"

Here's a letter I sent to the Winnipeg Free Pressafter reading an article about the new generation of Yuppies (dubbed Yupsters by the ever astute Media). Read the original article by clicking on the title of this blog.

Yesterday’s article on Yupsters offended me to the core. As a an urban male in my middle 30’s I am deeply troubled that so many of my contemporaries have become such rampant and shameless consumers. I am sickened that they would carry their adolescence so deep into adulthood, and saddened that the freedoms and social justices our grandparents fought so hard for have led to yet another shallow and vain "Me Generation. "

Growing up I was always disgusted by the extravagant and hypocritical lifestyle of the original Yuppie set, and hoped my peers would see through the soulless lack of purpose that sort of existence represented. Unfortunately we seem to have chosen style and status over substance and sustainability once again.

Thoughts of a Floor Sander

Strange random thoughts pass through your head when you are sanding floors. Even with the iPod blasting away, and me singing loud into an empty, echo-filled home there is time aplenty for reflection. Today I was thinking about when I was a kid living in Richmond, B.C., and all the other kids I knew there. My two best friends were named Trevor Schaffer and Cory Blondheim (with an honourable mention to his older brother Kurt.) The Blondheims had a sister named Tracy who was friends with my sister.

Also, for some reason I kept thinking about the name Jodl, he was an early Nazi organizer/leader, and later Governor General of occupied Poland, who was tried at Nuremburg (I’m currently reading The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.) This English kid who lived in Richmond kept popping in my head when the name Jodl would float by, although I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his name. The English kid was nothing but a minor character in my circle of friends, but there he was at every corner today. Then I thought of Terry Metko, the only kid in my grade at J.T. Errington Elementary who was chubbier than I (he was also a pal), and an even more obese kid who lived across the street from my grandparents’ house in Tswaassen whose name was Jody (maybe that’s where the whole Jodl thing came from?)

The other name that kept popping up was Albrecht Dürer, a renaissance artist who was famous for his fabulously detailed woodcuts and engravings. I studied Dürer in Art History and was blown away by what amazing images he could create with a block of wood and some chisels. I was always very interested in print-making, more so than painting, because prints involve creating negative images from etchings on metal, wood, old spuds or whatever, which can later be changed infinitely depending on what ink/paint you use and what paper lies underneath. Also print-making is closely related to the printing press, and I have always loved books (especially illustrated ones).

Anyways, it’s totally weird what runs through one’s head when it is pretty much on auto-pilot. At the group home I would always be thinking one step ahead trying to resolve the current crisis, or blocking out the intolerable attitudes/work ethic of certain staff and the mental agony suffered by the clients, attempting all the while to maintain my sanity. With refinishing I mostly know what my day will be like, the only challenge, usually, is the physical fatigue. Since that doesn’t put to much stress on the thinking parts of my brain, they will wonder off to places I would never consciously send them.

The Nymph and the Satyr

Here's a poem I posted on the ALfA Blog last week in case you don't visit it regularily (you should be.)


I met a magical girl
on a dancing ground
under a star-scattered prairie sky.

She looked at me
with lust in her eyes
from then on we moved together.

Lost in Los de Abajo
we spun ourselves all around
became intoxicated with desire.

She was a complete awakening
young, sexy, smart
full of wild abandon.

There was nothing to do
but give in to Dionysius
feel the festival vibrate through each other.

I smelled her for days
heard her voice in the trees
there will always be Clareo.

Damn it's Hot

As you may know, it's f-ing hot in this city right now (currently 28°C, feels like 32°C with the humidity). Today I pretty much did nothing except go for an hour long bike ride that almost killed me. Same goes for the kitties (not that they do much on the best of days). I thought I'd share a picture of Merlin all maxed-out on the sofa, pooped from the heat and all that hair. This week we are starting a huge job in River Heights; 3 whole floors, 2000+ sq. ft. to refinish, it's going to be boiling all week, according to the weather network--can't wait!

I Am Reborn

Change has been a constant of late. There are so many revelations coming to me at once. I feel like I am coming alive, after having suppressed feelings and denied myself of so many things I am realizing that I am here to LIVE. It’s totally liberating. Other people’s problems don’t consume me anymore. I have made time for my wants, and I don’t feel bad about it.

Somebody turned on the light. There is a resplendent dawn in my mind. The air is summer cool and birds are singing. For the first time ever I am standing out on the porch breathing life in, loving it. There have been times when I felt free and full of adventure—like when I wondered through Parc Güell in Barcelona with a cheap bottle of wine and a point and shoot camera—but I have never felt as confident in myself as I do now.

There is nothing stopping me from doing whatever I want. The roadblocks that have slowed me down are lifted, the fog of purposelessness is evapourating. The sexual animal has been awakened, the critical mind quieted. Let life live and breathe, say my dreams, take what you need from it as you take oxygen from the air. Direct yourself to the most bountiful, beautiful fjord you can find and cast an anchor.

How Dare She Burst My Cherry?

I did a rare thing and went to Subway. Typically, if I go, I’ll get a veggie sub. Tonight I opted for the Spicy Italian. When it came time to pay the total was $6.77. I had a five, two loonies and $.76 in change. I asked the counter person if she would spot the penny. She said that, no, she could not allow me to pay a penny less as she could plainly see I had a loonie in my hand. She would accept only the correct amount. I was incredulous. How could someone deny a person the spotting of a penny and make them carry away $.99 in change?! Obviously the girl had an axe to grind, or just wanted to piss someone off. It made me mad at first, to be sure. I was like, “What the fuck? You’re going to be spiteful and deny me one fucking cent?”

Later I fantasized how I should have reacted. I should have taken the $.99 and thrown it down over the counter; I should have just given her the $.76 and walked out with the sub; I should have thrown the sandwich in her face and said, “you’re such a fuckin’ bitch, there’s no way I’d eat a sub you made.” Instead I did the Canadian thing and gave her the loonie, putting the change—without violence— back in my pocket. I did offer a stern argument, but in the end, I acquiesced.

It’s strange how such an act of petty inhumanity can make you so crazy. On the one hand, she was angry about something else, about being a sandwich artist, about her boyfriend/dad/boss who’s an asshole, maybe her cat just died. On the other, I shouldn’t care really whether I have a loonie in my pocket or a bunch of change totaling $.99. What difference does it make in the end, except for the inconvenience?

What pissed me off so bad is that she firmly and blatantly refused what I considered to be an undeniable request. Never in my life have I had someone, in any retail business, refuse to spot me the penny. How dare she burst my cherry!

Why do people steal bike seats?

Because they can. Who decided that bike seats should be held on with a quick release instead of a bolt, and why did this idea catch on? Do people really like walking around with their seat all the time? Is it some kind of anti-theft measure; i.e., if the seat is removed someone is less likely to want to ride away on a bike? Or is it because people like to move their seat regularly depending on their mood that day, or how far they feel like stretching their legs? I honestly can’t see any good reason to use a quick release for your seat when an Allen bolt would do the trick. Sure an asshole with a set of Allen keys may be cruising around looking for just the right seat, but this is far less likely than having some loogan steal a quick release seat just to be a shit disturber. Can anyone defend the need for the quick release seat, or is it just a dumb fad that manufacturers forced upon the bike buying public?

Why Kill Whales?

Here's a letter lifted from todays Winnipeg Free Press, and my response.



Abandon whale hunting

Re: To save the whales, (June 29).

I disagree with the Free Press editorial endorsing the resumption of commercial whaling. Surely we, as human beings, have progressed far enough in our development that we no longer need to exploit every other living creature on our planet as a source of food for ourselves. Why can we not stand back and let the whales live out their natural lives in peace?

The pro-whaling countries that are cited in the editorial, Japan, Iceland and Norway, are all wealthy, first-world nations, whose citizens are in no way lacking for abundant sources of food. They do not require whale meat for their sustenance, as they may have at one time. Leave aside the science of whether there are or are not sustainable populations of whales at this time (the same science that assured us that cod were abundant and could continue to be caught even as their numbers plummeted). Let us as human beings be magnanimous to another species for once, and abandon whale hunting once and for all.

JOSEPH LEVEN
Winnipeg

RESPONSE:

Joseph Leven makes a logical argument for a permanent ban on whale hunting, arguing it is unnecessary to hunt these creatures in a modern context. Unfortunately, economics, and the endevours of man are not typically ruled by what is necessary or logical. Our economy is shaped by myth, materialism, and a desire for ever increasing wealth, often in the face of what seems practical and worthy. Why else would there continue to be heavy subsidies for agricultural products no one wants? Why else would one kill seals for fur when synthetics are demonstrably warmer? Man has not proved magnanimous enough to stop futile destructive practices in the past, though I’m glad that people like Mr. Leven still believe we are capable of doing right.