Tuesday Afternoon (Bastille Day)

Vive la France, bien sur. Mid summer, tad windy, kinda cold, there is an electric feeling in the air... wham! Things are a tad too bright, too colorful, nature at full bloom, things will soon turn the other way... wilt, gray, decay. Tuesday 3:33 pm, things are out of sorts, routine broken... hoping for a thunderstorm, something to settle the static in the air. Try I dare you to focus.

To rant randomely.

To prattle away with words. Spin them around, throw them out there, no matter their cause or effect.

What's on my mind? Cigarettes, pretty much every waking second, yes, oh and forget about sleeping, I roll, I scratch, I ache. It sucks.

Anything else? Whiny children driving me a bit daft. No escape.

Bored of social media. A lot of talk about not a much at all.

Fuck these cravings, fuck this mood I am in. Yes if I were to give in, just a quick fag, whammo, improved mood. But, no, fight it off. Be strong.

Drink coffee, type through it. Focus? Not with how this feels. A type and run. Poof!

There dear old blog. A random rant, spurred on by want for smoke, for want of relief. More, later, maybe.

About Fatigue

Three nights on a couch. Early to rise, kids, and school, and breakfast, and good mornings, and have a good days. A combined oh maybe 15 hours sleep in the last 72 hours, lets just say I am seeing spots, I am hummingbird-like, I hum and I buzz. Nearly impossible to focus, I am distracted by the smallest things. Every movement draws my eye, there is nothing profound to see, its all a blur, a brief stare at this or that, she or he.

I have been on the run, I am never really here or there. I am stuck in the fuzzy middle, I am tired, I need to exhale, to lie down, to stop. I need to be here, and yet tomorrow I am back there.

The Ride to a Cabin

Imagine a rural highway, think if it was filled to the brim with raccoons, deer, and mad stray dogs. Then imagine that a car on this rural highway is filled with 3 city folks, and a fella that is not from
the area at all. Imagine still that these four travelers are hopelessly lost (sorta). My God then think what it would be like if the rolling, animal filled hills and valleys of this rural road failed to yield any
cell phone signal and the four are 3 urbanites and a fella that is lost altogether, egad the humanity of it all. A hellish trip right? Well it had its moments to be sure, but in retrospect it was the perfect way to start a night of partying in a country cabin. Really isn't that prototypically how most great nights in the woods start? There needs to be a few tense moments, say like almost hitting a huge stray dog (or was it a black panther?? long story) to get the adrenalin spiked to a point where upon safe arrival everyone wants to howl at the moon. Huge props, and a million hugs to my girl that got us there in one piece.

Welcome sounds..

I am a bit of an audiophobe, I do not like loud, or grating noises. The sound of a vacuum makes me run from a room. I generally feel the same way about lawn mowers and whipper snippers, but not today, no, today the sound of lawn work is a welcome racket, it means that spring has officially sprung, that summer in all its warm and sunny glory is just around the corner. YAY, thats pretty much all a fella can say.

Blames it on the rain

Its a drain,
I can feel the atmospheric pressure in my nasal passages. My energy is drained. I am close to migraine. Maybe its the fluorescent lights, maybe its the musak, maybe its the Mozza Burger, probably its the coffee. Oh the coffee I consumed today. Fingers crossed that there is some sun tomorrow, this fella has to hit the streets, roam around, get his face out there, become a local celebrity in the town his birth. Small town Nova Scotia is easy, big town New Brunswick might be more of a challenge. For now I sit, I wait, I neurotically stare at the cell phone, wish, upon wish, that I could mentally manipulate time and space......

Sitting in the mall.....

People watching, it rains outside. Supposed to be job searching, more apt to be web surfing. Yes, I have peeked, dipped a few toes in the water. Hard to find motivation on a rainy old day. People walk by, the odd old fart stands behind me stares in dumb awe at my computer screen. A quasi-wino asks me to explain to him the comings, goings, and inner workings of wifi technology, I answer as best I can. I am not sure how it works, I simply know that it does. Always the driver, never the mechanic, I hate getting my hands dirty. Ramble on I will, the distraction of the mall makes it hard to write in proper sentences, the flow for thought to screen constantly disrupted by each passing consumer. I should be looking for work, was that not the plan of attack today, was that not why I came downtown??? Or was it because she wanted me to come for the ride? The job search just a suggestion, a thing to kill the hours. What do I do but write, think about what I should do, and what I might.

and then it rains.....

Spoiled to death by wonderful spring weather. I procured my first sunburn of the year yesterday, the first burn is my favorite, nothing looks healthier than a little spring rose on the cheeks. Of course the weather couldn't last like it was, today is down right morose, its a day fit for the climax of a psychological thriller, tis a day when ideas turn gray, and plots grow muddy. Through it all I am content, a day indoors is not always a bad thing. I have pushed my body to the limit the last couple of days. I have been like a bear awaking from a long winter's hibernation. But even the hungry bear needs a day of repose, and a few idle hours to plan, plot, and scheme.

Notes from a babbling brook

Babble goes the brook
He wonders if he will beat the rain home
Full of mud and sweat
The odd scratch here and there
Maybe a couple of fresh callouses
He stinks,
He is alive
He feels moisture in the wind
Best that he gets back on the trail
Mud is fine
The wet, um, not so much.

Going Home Again

Somewhere, oh, around 26-years-ago my parents shipped myself, my siblings, themselves, and all that the owned in the world from Saint John New Brunswick, to New Glasgow Nova Scotia. New Glasgow quickly became Stellarton, and the thing is neither of those towns mattered, it was the landing in Annapolis Royal at the age of 10, that is important to this entry. For all in tense and purposes, I grew up in Annapolis Royal, it was there where I did most of my secondary schooling, its the place where I learned to drive, its where I first noticed girls, its where I had my first kiss. Annapolis Royal is where I say I am from, when I am asked where I am from. Funny though because if you break down the math, I have pretty much spent a third of my life in Saint John, a third in Annapolis Royal, and a third in Montreal. I like to jokingly say that I am the Littlest Hobo, I am from nowhere, I like the romantic idea that I am a man of the world, it is an easy hook, it makes people think, it makes me more interesting.

Then a funny thing happened. I met a woman, a wonderful woman, who wouldn't you know it was living in Saint John, the city of my birth. My memories of Saint John as a little kid are blurry at best. I have experienced the city as an adult, usually through family weddings or funerals, and the city of my youth always left a sour taste in my mouth. I am a man of the world remember. Cities to me are Paris, London, Vienna, or Montreal. Saint John was too low brow for me. I am in no means a rich man, but I have expensive tastes when it comes to culture, and working class Saint John just didn't seem to cut it. But here I am sitting on a couch of the best lass in the world up on Golden Grove in East Saint John...ya East Saint John, I was from the West Side, my God, what has this lady done to my world?

Its not as if I wasn't willing to be swept off my feet, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet? Its not that I was unwilling to leave Annapolis Royal, I am from nowhere, The Littlest Hobo, I just keep on moving on. Its just the weird irony, or is it a cliche? You know the one that says, who said you can't go home again? Who indeed.

Distraction

The simple facts that I am compelled to write poetry, that I haven't bitched or whined about the state of the planet, that I am not complaining about the weather (which is improving, at last), has to be a sign that I am in a good place. Things are happening at break neck speed, my whole summer is filled with question marks, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Options are a good thing, decisions will have to be made, yes, but I think they well have to be debated on the fly, the gut, and the heart will have to be weighed along with logic. My life is exciting, I am grinning like a Cheshire Cat. My dimples fully exposed, my blush in full bloom. Weeee!

When his world turns upside down

Oh what a few weeks he has had,
As close as he has ever been to mad.
Mad not bad,
He hopes this is more than fad.
Rhymes, and fancy words,
Stung in the heart by 80s guitar chords.
All he can do is write it through,
His brain is goo, but belongs to you.
Babble on he will,
Amazed, and awed by each new thrill.
He has started writing poetry again,
Wonders when it all really began.
Feels like forever,
Wishes to never say never.
On and on he goes,
Caught up in the throes.
He wishes to be there,
As mad as he is like a hare.
He can find no reason to frown,
Now that his world is upside down.

Sailing...

Leaving on a ship to distant shores. Gone to explore lands, or emotions yet unexplored. Not leery of the trip, I am more giddy with excitement. Like an astronaut who is on his first launch, I am excited to see a close up of the moon, to see what lies on the other side.

The State He Is In

The state he is in,
he giggles, he grins.
He blushes, he fusses,
he dreams, he muses.
He winks, he nods,
pulls hair and agogs.
He tries to find words,meanings,
confused by fresh feelings.
He types, he pauses,
erases, finds causes.
He can't explain it,
he simply dives right in it.
The state he is in,
he giggles, he grins.
And why not?

Write To Write, Right??

Mentally fatigued, the brain and the fingers are not what they should be. Carry on I must, write to write, that just seems right. No subject, no real meaning behind the words tonight. Perhaps this is an act of futility. Perhaps I am typing in vain, writing to ease the pain. Perhaps I typed that last sentence because I like the way it sounds. Perhaps I am in a good place. Perhaps I am content. Perhaps I am at a place where I might want to scream my joy for all the world to hear. Perhaps I have yet to find the right words to accompany that near primal scream. Perhaps, perhaps.

Spring.....

I am fully fed-up with winter. I have had my fill of parkas and togues, ok I do have an infinite fondness for a bitchin' togue, but, but, but, its now time for hoodies, I wanna get some sun on my pasty white legs, I need a healthy dose of vitamin D. I have noticed the buds on the trees, I have heard the calls of the Canadian geese, but damn it all to hell its time for the temperature to start to spike. Down with snow, down with wind chills that reach into negative Celsius. Its all gone on too long, this Canadian winter, things need to turn green, flowers need to sprout, hell gimme a few mosquitoes, I am losing the plot, I demand to see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Every Now and Then......

To say that I am jaded by the politics of the now would be an understatement. I am idealistic, romantic enough, flummoxed perhaps by Nietzsche enough, to believe that our political leaders should be remarkable, they should be intellectually superior, they should be passionate in their beliefs, there should be a litmus test they all must pass in order to justify their position of power. Sadly, it just does not work that way, George W. Bush is the antithesis of all that I see as wrong in politics. Here is a man, that had a free pass academically, militarily, and politically, simply because of his family ties. In my opinion, a man as mediocre in every way like George W. has no right to the title as the most powerful man in the world. Even as a puppet, a man whose strings are pulled by men far more intellectually advanced, and politically astute, than Bush, Bush has failed in every way. He has made a mockery of the White House. He is what is wrong in the world today.

All it seems is not lost, the ridiculous reign of Bush II, is quickly coming to an end. And, my God, there is a candidate who seems exceptional. Barrack Obama, is exciting, here is a man who can speak the English language, a man who can not only read, and memorize a political speech, but can write a speech that can galvanize the nation. Obama's speech on race and religion is the greatest piece of political/social commentary that I have ever read. http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0308/9100.html
He spoke (like Jon Stewart said last night) to the American people like they were adults. He was able to touch on themes that are uncomfortable, and yet open the door to a dialog, which frankly the USA has been avoiding since its inception.

My concern now, and I don't think it is all that out of bounds, I worry that the USA electorate may choose the easy way out. Denial is easy, why dig up old wounds, why not stick to the status quo? It is very easy simply to elect the token, unexceptional old white fella, or the the prototypical Democratic candidate, whose most controversial political issue is universal health care (as noble an idea as that is). Obama may be too exceptional, here we have a Black man, a man with an engaging mind, a fella whom is not afraid to address Americans many worts, and discuss ways of healing them. Is America ready, is America brave enough? I sure hope so.

A Not So Happy Anniversary

Five years ago, still reeling from the September 11th attacks on the Twin Towers in New York, the Bush administration hoodwinked its population into thinking that attacking Iraq was the next logical step in the 'War on Terror'. Claims of weapons of mass destruction, Iraqi ties to Bin Laden and Al Qaeda, and the ever-present fear that existed (and still exists) in the United States, made such an endeavor an easy sell. The American people were more than happy enough to dance to the beat of the Bush war drums, the Democrats plugged their collective noses, they bought the Bush line that you are with us or against us, supporting the troops was more important than fact checks, everyone was filling up on a huge serving of 'Freedom Fries'. The whole thing was going to be over in a matter of weeks. Iraq was no match for the American war machine.

Time flies when you are having fun. Where are they now? The Iraq war part deux is still on going, truth be told there seems to be no end in sight. The war itself has cost $500,000,000,000, 4000 American lives, 90,000+++ Iraqi lives, and the American reputation has never been so tarnished. There are countless theories as to what might have been the Bush rational in attacking Iraq, everyone now knows that there were no weapons of mass destruction, there are no ties to Al Qaeda. So perhaps it was Junior simply trying to finish the job his father had started 10 years or so earlier, perhaps it was simply a matter of distracting the American people from the fact that the capture of Bin Laden had been a complete failure, perhaps it was about oil reserves, perhaps it was about setting up a permanent American presence in the Middle East, perhaps G.W likes to play GI Joe with human toys, perhaps it all those things. The only truth in any of this is that, the Iraq occupation is the greatest and most barbaric blunder of the Bush Administration. Aside from the human tole, the financial tole in as far as the burgeoning American debt is not only being felt in the USA, but world wide. It would be folly to blame the global economic downturn solely on the mistake that is the Iraq war, but it is symbolic of the ineptitude and madness that has been endemic in the current American administration.

So unhappy anniversary Mr. Bush, I see you have decided to hold a press conference claiming success and victory in Iraq, funny I thought I had seen and heard all that before, say 5 years ago, you had your favorite GI Joe costume on, and you got to play on an aircraft carrier, good times. I hope you are proud of all your successes, you have made your country proud.

About Dreams

I am not famous for my ability to recall dreams. This is troubling because as a writer, dreams are a near infinite supply of subject. Last night, however, I had a dream very similar to many other dreams, that I tend to remember. One rarely forgets the dreams that recur, hell even a poor dream recaller is going to remember the dream that pops up over and over.

My dream last night, was not a carbon copy of any other dream that I have had in the past. It began with me in a mountainous area, could have been anywhere, I will say in Eastern Europe, because my mind is still there. I was hiking around this area, alone, although there were other anonymous characters around, random families, fellow travelers, that were on the peripheral at first, they did not seem part of the plot. I found myself in a particularly stunning spot, there was a lake, a beautiful green mountain, the birds were singing, I had found Eden, I wanted to capture it in a photo. I rifled through my belongings, found a digital camera, but the flash did not work, funny because it was the middle of the day, in the waking world, this would have mattered not. Finally I decided to ask a family if I could borrow a camera from them, it was imperative that I capture this moment in time, and quickly. They loaned me a disposable Kodak, no explanation as to how I might receive the photo in the future, the people were faceless, it was the photo that mattered, the picture had to be taken. Snap, I was transported from my Eastern European mountain paradise, to a forked woods road, definitely in the Canadian Boreal Forest, most probably in Alberta. I have been here before, this is where the dream recurs. In previous dreams there are cabins on the logging road that forks to the right, I tend to stay in one of them, there is usually a scenario where I try to purchase or rent the cabin before the crowds arrive. The logging road to the left leads deep into the woods, and into a maze of other logging roads, it best to avoid the left logging road, its where anxiety and pee dreams live. Last night I did not choose either of the paths, seems my brain decided to change channels, the dream ended, and I did not out of have to deal with Robert Frost's quandary in The Road Not Taken.

What does this all mean? Nothing I bet, simply the brain playing tricks, a little mental diarrhea, a spot of neurotic, subconscious digestion. I thought it might be interesting to see how it looks on the written page. I am not willing to dissect any of it yet, I am not sure if there is any rhyme or reason to my dreams in the first place. I am happy that I actually woke up this morning with a dream still fresh on my mind. Maybe its a sign of things to come.

Random Thoughts On Canadian Politics

I am a political junky, I like to be in the know, I enjoy the debate. I was fully invested in the last Federal Election, there was an air of change, the Liberal juggernaut was crumbling, it looked that there may be some new political blood, new (hopefully progressive) ideas, new life in the Canadian political process, at least thats what I had hoped for, its not easy being an idealist, the last Federal election has jaded any hope I might have had of there being a bold new political reality in Canada.

What happened? Well, the revamped Conservative Party won a minority mandate. I could handle that, hell its what I expected, The Liberals were doomed from the start, and frankly deserved to be kick to the curb. As idealistic as I may be, I am also a realist, I knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that my guys, the NDP, could sneak up the middle, or um er from the left and steal the election. Canada like its cousins down south is basically a two party system, elections go one of two ways, Liberal, or (Progressive, historically) Conservative. The 'fringe' or more accurately 2nd tier parties, the NDP, the Bloc (who only run in Quebec, and thus can't form a government in the first place), and the Green Party (who have been around for awhile, but are the new cool) really are nothing more than also-rans. What made the last Federal election exciting was the prospect of one of these parties, having a significant voice because of the prospect of another minority government. It did my soul a world of good thinking that if the NDP could score enough seats, that they could force the Conservative Party to stick to a moderately progressive agenda, thwarting any secret right wing agenda that Harper and gang might have dreamed up.

What happened? First, the NDP just didn't get enough seats to become the balance of power. The Liberal demise in Quebec, and a Conservative Party mini revival in that same province, meant that the Tories earned more seats than expected, the Liberals less than expected, and the NDP just couldn't make up the difference. The Bloc, is technically the balance of power in Canada, that is if one believes that the Tories and the Grits do not covertly work with each other.Lets face facts, the Harper Tories are enjoying their time as the party in power, and Dion and his Grits have not got their collective shit together to perform as they would like if an election was called.

Where are we? Canada is in a political vacuum. The Tories, can't really go whole hog with any sort of right wing agenda (thankfully), but the opposition is also politically impudent. There is not a strong leader in any of Canada's political parties. Harper and the Tories will goat the opposition into trying to take down the government, it makes he and his Tories look strong, and I think he likes the ego boast, he is in the driver's seat right now, and he knows that the other opposition parties are not ready to compete in an election. The Tories are not at a point where they might win a majority government, but another minority does not seem out of the question.

What is next? I believe there will be an election sometime in the next 6 to 12 months. The squeaky clean, and normally media sly Tories are starting to slip up. The Liberals will eventually grow the stones, especially if the polls look favourable and the soap opera that is a Canadian election will be upon us. Will I be excited this time around, I doubt it, there really isn't a political person or party that excites me at all. I will keep my eyes down south, the story there is far more compelling.