Old Ollie's Summer

As summer winds down (did it ever wind up?) I ponder over past summers and the advent of the new year (January is the false new year). What characterizes this summer the most is just keeping busy; not the I don't really want to talk about it conversation smasher: "I'm busy". This summer I worked at Camp IAWAH - a true blessing - it was a very good week and a return to a place that I have spent many many days. It was excellent to introduce it to my boys and to be there again with Rebekah. God Bless IAWAH!
I also travelled: heading out onto new highways in Good ol' USA was excellent - Saw more of NY, Good taste on Penn State, Some Maryland and plenty of DC. I love to travel around Canada, but getting a good bit of the US this summer was really cool. DC is such an iconic place. Head on down there friends.
I also worked at a day camp at my church. That was actually really challenging, but good. 9:30 to 12:00 seemed really long some days.
So I kept busy - maybe that was a good thing. I'm ready to slip back to Hilly; I guess I haven't gotten too relaxed and couch bound this summer. When I was unbusy I worked out - so maybe I'm getting wiser. This year should be a smoother transition. Right?

Obama's Cracked out Neighbours

When the crackheads role into your neighbourhood and start puking, passing out and sleeping on your curb with soggy piss pants - you move. You pack up your sh*t and find a new place to call home.

I visited president Obama's house last week. It is big and white. He has tonnes of security and big fences. On the sidewalk one block away lives a homeless crackhead. I walked by and he was unconscious, yet his hand was still raised hoping for some charity. Coins rattled out of his motionless hand being offered by the tourists wandering around trying to get a glimpse of Obama; whom they hoped would be peaking out of one of his many upstairs windows. Tricky President.

I guess Obama can't move...at least for four years. But what do you do about these folks lying in the gutter in front of your "palace"? Maybe nothing. Here in Ottawa we have our share of homeless people, but our leader shuffles off to Rockcliffe Park to get away from the riff raff.

Shipping them away is deemed too Conservative - help them: too Liberal. Obama has to run the USA and ponder the problem of crackheads invading his new home. Being at the top in the US can be rough indeed.

I talked to one nice old homless lady. She told me to keep my kids safe, she blessed them and me...I just returned the blessing. God bless her and all of Obama's neighbours.

Last Day of School - Graduation

Every year this day roles around. A day to launch out the next batch from the factory institute/school were I work. I realize that you can't relate to each kid and the process of processing them can be a drag. Meaningless rules and layers of bureaucracy. Yet, the advocacy of students and the ability to relate to the students is a criteria that my superiors look at every 5 years when they evaluate us teachers...disconnect.
The only teachers that meant anything to me are the ones that made an effort to relate to me as a person - not some robot marching through the halls that was there to be built and launched from the front doors. Too many teachers forget what it means and meant to be a kid. Which teachers did they like, and thus work hard for and with? I bet they all hated the ones having meeting to think of new ways to keep the kids in line.
I have no desire to antagonize a teenager. I just want to meet some, work with them, help them out, relate to them human-teacher to human-student. There is a distinction, but we, as teachers, should be more positive more often and be the teachers that we would want, need and respect in the teenage version that we once were.
To end this, less than tight, ramble let me say. Props to Dubeau for getting up in front of his colleagues and hammering home the need for positive thinking. To paraphrase: "mention the good things, because other are sure to bring up the bad" - he also has his students mention two things the they liked about the year and one that they didn't. Smart: more positives than negatives. Good on him for sharing this with us.
I head out now to reload, refresh, rethink and prepare to meet more students in September.
Wish me well, and always: send me your wisdom.

Gravenomics

About a week ago the band, Graven, pulled into town and ripped things up - down in the market. I had to pull my creaky bones out of my soccer-dad lawn chair and see this event in person. Other Ottawans and Iawahians of all shapes and creeds rambled out of the suburbs to hear "the lads". Many old friends got together and bent a few taps. The beer flowed smooth and cold like Matt's sonic power chords. Graven played a tight set - so check these lads out. I asked my friend Bill Henry if liked the rock show. He replied: "yes". Nuff Said!
I went home later, shaken', cranking the Graven CD over the fields of Navan. Cows, chickens and sheep looked up in shock - and oddly enough - pleasure. As an aside: Farmer Henkl, my neighbour, told me that because of Graven's EP his cows gave more milk than ever. Right on.
Graven brought the sound and reforged a community. The revolution has begun.

Mr. Deeds - A true story.

Yesterday a mother and father were approaching some bleachers on the rugby pitch. Their son was knocking the all living out of some poor sacks from some unlucky school. A fellow parent saw them and said: "come sit next to me; I saved you a seat". The first parent with the rugged son said "as usual". The bleacher dad then dashed off this gem: " she (the other dad's wife) can sit on my face". WOW! That play was way offside.

Mr. Deeds would have asked him to refrain - if he wouldn't Mr. Deeds would punch him in the face. Maybe the husband should have...at least done something. He just chuckled as his wife blushed. Weird.

Over on another set of bleachers a grade nine lad was cussing worse than Ricky and Bubbles. In front of some nice young ladies. Mr. Deeds...

I thought that maybe we should go back to not cussing in front of or about women. Fair?

Today my opinion had to shift. Virtually every f-bomb that I heard lobbed about the hallowed halls where I work were bursting out of girls' mouths. Even Mr. Deeds in his supreme wisdom would be a loss.

Crazy society. I thinks Jesus is, more or less, in accord with Mr. Deeds. But society is not. Where do we go from here? Thoughts?

Sick and 1984

The term "sick" has morphed over the years. It used to mean bad, in the non-Michael Jackson, sense. Calling someone sick in '84 would get you a cuff about the ears and teeth. I'm sick right now - being sick is not sick; in the current sense. I'm considering the Dutch wine cure: drink wine until your cold is gone. Could work.

1984 didn't end in an Orwellian blast. For me 1984 was the beginning. That was the year that I bought my first tape/album: Van Halen 1984. It still holds up as a very fine album. An album full of classic hits and a few rare gems too: Jump, Panama and Hot for Teacher...yeah! Getting your first rock album is moment of passage. I'm glad that my first album, bought with my own dough, was so nice. Shit...Culture Club would have gotten me a solid boot circle - so I made the right call. Van Halen 1984 - a most sick album. This is the album that launched my total love of music - just slap that tape into my yellow, sporty, Sony Walkman - very choice.

What right of passage is there today for the youth of our nation? My first legal download? Crazy times. Send me back to 1984...besides maybe I would not have to drink so much wine.

Snoop Bloggie Blog

There are moments in life that just seem to transcend. You feel this deep feeling of rightness. Pure goodness can do this for me.

- cold beers in an icy pail, bbq smoking, wind in the trees.
- a perfect song as I roll down an empty road
- strumming a flat top guitar and finding that sweet chord

What is your moment? Joseph Campbell called this a place of bliss. Zen Monks would pause and compose a haiku. Maybe...modern society needs to snag these moments and recognize them and give them their due credit, value and worth.

Certain songs can do this; I listened to the new Tragically Hip album this morning on the way to the wheel of which I'm a cog. I could barely work - I was drunk with euphoria. I came in telling people to convert to the church of Gord Downie. Read: get these tunes right now.

The thought that I'm having is what makes these moments so great? What causes this huge connection with the universe? Cool shit though.

Also, it is an impossible concept to teach. Kids don't really get haiku...but hey maybe they will someday; when they have one of these moments of super clarity and rightness.

Go get one of these moments for yourself...find your place of bliss.