Renewal, forced.

I just realized I haven't written in almost a year.

Shit, I'm slipping.

There was a time when these posts were quite common, and unread. I post this crap for me. I'm not looking for anyone's approval. This is supposed to be my diary as it were.  But apparently nothing has happened since March 2019 that required me to take notes. Nadda. Nothing, Fuck all.

Not entirely true, lots happened, but the other thing that happened is that I just stopped writing anything down. I stopped worrying about logging into my life every week, I stopped caring what others thought of me. Maybe I've grown up, finally. At 51 years old.

So here's a small synopsis of my life since my last post:

• I shattered my foot and went off work for three months.
• I developed a blood clot in my leg because of it.
• I bought a Mustang.
• I made several new friends, and can't imagine my life without them now.
• I'm still NOT finished trucking school (see points one and two).
• I found a brother I never knew I had.
• I sold my house.
• My daughter started college in another city and that freaks me out.
• I've made concerted effort to fix my physical issues. IE, I started working out for the first time in years. I even bought a home gym.
• I'm out of town a lot on business, so I post from Chicago, Louisville, Oakville and Detroit.

In a nutshell, that's not much. I still live alone in the county, in God's country. This brings me strength and peace. Many days I wish I could share that with everyone, so everyone's life has all of that. I've become a simple man, living within simple means, with a neurotic cat as a companion. But I am also gifted with many friends. Life is good.

I've had my share of troubles lately, I've been fighting inner demons as we all do. Sometimes life changes on you and you wonder what path to take. As Robert Frost once mentioned, there is a path less travelled. I took that, and life is better to its means. But that path comes with challenges. Once one is released from bonds of responsibility, one can make a multitude of decisions. Some are regretful, some are promising. I kinda lie in the middle. I have many choices to make, and only I can decide which are the right ones.

These changes and choices have affected my relationships and simply common habits. There are friends I don't see much anymore, but others I see often. There are hobbies I used to indulge in, and other fanciful distractions I revel in. Such is life, it changes. We change. Life changes. I believe this new environment I find myself in has affected some old habits, to the better or worse depending on you point of view. I like who I am now, I like the changes I've made but in honesty I miss who I was years ago. This blog, if you read back far enough will prove that. I don't ever want to lose that old me, but I've evolved; changed. We all do. But we all have our roots, and our passions.

This post is me telling myself to get back to who I was while at the same time keeping who I've become. This post is also now a rambling changing diatribe in which I push myself to pick up pieces of my past and mesh it into my future. You decide.

Ultimately, it's about having a chance encounter with someone with passion for writing, and has awakened something in me that used to exist. Something I really never want to lose. So Thank you Karyn, a women I randomly met and found to have a kindred spirit. You awoken the kraken.

You have made me write again, and dammit, you'll regret it.

Cheers.

Currents

I came from the south today, drifting along the invisible ocean of air that feeds this place, that gives it life. I came up to push out my colleagues from the north, who have kept their grasp for many months on this place. I convinced them it was time for change, and so I took over.

I began my day gently enough, meandering down a country river, slowly, taking in all the beauty that is the earth. I absorbed the water and the land, the plant life, and wildlife, and the people who call this place home. Slowly I drifted down the river, darting here and there to take a closer look at the landscape I haven't seen in so long, this place of beauty and serenity. And now that I'm back, I can make it what it was so long ago, before my cousins from the north took grasp. Drifting down to the water, back out to the shoreline, then across the fields, over houses and shops, I took it all in again. I was home.

There was so much to see. I crossed the waters of the river it rippled in my wake, creating what appeared to be a current, endless concentric ripples of water crossed to both shores as I passed, the river was alive again. As I passed trees the leaves waved as if to say hello old friend, at least those that were left after the long cold months since my last visit. So many more then, many still strewn about the ground where they fell, and as I passed they came to life, darting up from the ground that had become their home for the long cold. They would never see the trees again, but still, they moved as I passed as if in anticipation of something grand, or, simply showing their reluctance to pass the torch to this season's crop of beauty. Their duty done.

A flock of geese passed by me, their wings opened as if to catch me in their feathers. They knew who was there to keep them aloft, to keep them alive, and help them to their destination, somewhere along the meandering streams. The beauty of the birds was only outshone by their grace, silent and still, they took my hand eagerly, and I knew that my warmth was a welcome feeling to them. They seemed to enjoy my helping hand as they soared over the fields and houses for what seemed like and eternity. It was good to be welcomed back.

More trees, more fields, more waters, this time vast expanses in the distance, it seemed like a good place to wander.

Across the bay were small sailboats, eager to take advantage of the changing weather. Hearty people were aboard, as it was still quite brisk and not quite the season, but they were up to the challenge of the new birth, and took full advantage of my presence. I came across their sails one by one, each sail billowing forth and propelling the craft forward. The crew on these small ships revelled in my presence as well, smiling and laughing, it was what they looked forward to all the cold months, a chance at rebirth, a chance at living again. And the boats lived, I'm happy to have helped.

I myself sailed across the waters of the lake, the water churned and rippled in my wake, moving swiftly as I gained speed. The water rose and fell with my passing, moving in whatever direction suited the currents, eventually crashing onto the shores lined with homes and small beaches, and a few breakwaters. A marina in the distance caught my attention, without a care I headed over, to see other boats, many still tied down from the winter, but some preparing to venture out into the expanse, adventure in their hearts. As I passed the water between the boats rippled and moved them about in their berths, rocking not with the cold harshness of my cousin from the north, but with the warm inviting sense of anticipation, you see, I'm the one people let touch their faces. I'm the one who brings happiness.

In the distance clouds began to form. Curious, I moved toward them. As I closed on the clouds, I moved slightly faster. As I passed people on the streets below some had to catch their hats, much to my amusement. Leaves, paper and various assorted small things moved up from the ground behind me, playing a sort of cat and mouse game with me, and of course those folks who were in the way. I caught up to the clouds a short time later, just as it began to rain, a spring rain. A warm rain. Nothing like that had been seen since the last time I visited, it was as if nature was saying hello old friend, nice to see you again.

The rain fell most of that afternoon, lightly, but briskly. It washed away the remaining shards of the harsh cold, the leftover ice patches, the random debris that always gets trapped by the snow. The rain provided a rebirth for the streets, the trees, the grass, and whatever else it touched. Warmed by me, it continued unabated through the day and into the night. I was happy to help it along. Together we made the city smile, warm spring showers moving just enough to acknowledge my assistance. Harmonious teamwork, helping the season along, and renewing life, all life, not just the trees and grass, but the smiles on children's faces as they stood in the warm rain proved we were there for everyone and everything.

Again it was time to move on. I parted ways with the clouds and again greeted the sun, who as always, warmed me. Still moving briskly as one does when happy, I made my presence known everywhere I went. I passed a flag hanging limp, and made it furl out, presenting it's majesty to the people. Those who noticed seemed to smile in approval. I passed children blowing bubbles, and was only to happy to oblige them, again I was greeted with smiles and adoration, as nothing shows thanks like a child's smile and laughter. I passed a balloon that had lost it's owner, and it followed me for quite a while, until it too ran out of air. I passed a kite in a park, and took it for a short journey into the clouds, only to release it back to it's owner, who had no intention of ever losing it anyway.

I passed out of the city and back into the countryside, over fields of fledgling green embracing the new season. Not large enough yet to answer my call, but soon. Back over the water, back over more boats, over animals and birds who seemed to simply stop and say hello, and enjoy what I had to offer them, again.

It is good to be home, to be the gentle breeze that caresses the life force of all living things, to be the strong wind that moves the sails on high seas, to be the friend you've longed to feel the presence of for so long!

Windsor's District 9

Welcome to Windsor, Poor people to the left, rich to the right please, mind the gap, keep moving, and keep your eyes forward please.

This city treats poor people like a plague as the rich and affluent ignore them, the middle class ignores them, politicians ignore everyone but themselves. The downtrodden in Windsor are everywhere, their shopping carts with every possession they own, are everywhere, panhandlers are everywhere, drugs are everywhere. And behind everyone of them is a cop pushing them along to the next unseen alleyway or abandoned doorway, at the behest of city council and our illustrious mayor, Drew Fucking Dilkens. (I'm fairly certain his middle name is Fucking, but don't quote me). 

Poor and homelessness is now a crime in Windsor. A crime nobody wanted to ever commit and nobody wants to be a part of but its now against Windsor's moral and ethical code to be not comfortably set financially. If you don't work in the tech or auto sector, and aren't part of a union, fuck you then. If you haven't been lucky enough to inherit dad's cash, have a mental illness, or have lost a job, fuck you then, enter through the left door. No right door for you.

And nobody gives a fuck.

Dilkens doesn't, he has a house, money and a career. The police don't, or can't, as they're job is to keep the peace and enforce the law. If city council determines that placing your shopping cart full of your own life behind a building is illegal, the police must move it. The lawyers don't give a shit, they just see a paycheck on the backs of the poor. The average person living in this city cares, but drugs, crime brought on by rampant poverty keeps most people from getting involved. Frankly, nobody wants to get shanked for trying to do the right thing. (Yeah, I'm generalizing, sue me).

Most people look at the homeless in this city as a burden to be pushed under the rug, out of sight out of mind kind of shit. Well, take a drive late at night and maybe open your fucking eyes for once (Drew). Drug addicts are on every corner, panhandlers are everywhere, shopping carts are scattered around town and left abandoned as their owners seek whatever shelter they can, or their next fix. You can't escape it if you simply open your fucking eyes (Drew).

The other night I pulled into a 7-11 at about 3am. As I got out of my car, I noticed two women sitting in front of the store on the curb, one of them asked me for a lift to the casino before I even got out. They were both a mess, more than likely messed up on something, and their clothing was a dishevelled mess. Now I'm all about helping people, but that night I became the person I'm bitching about. I said no, I'm not a taxi and walked on.

I've become part of the problem.

Last night while on call with my partner, we stood around his car at a Tim Hortons shooting the shit. A sketchy looking guy we had been keeping our eyes on butted into our conversation. It was obvious he was looking for a fight. My first reaction was that I really didn't feel like getting stabbed or shot tonight, so we go into the car and left. This guy was obviously on something but we weren't about to find out what.

I used to like the city at night, but now it scares the hell out of me. I'm sure Drew isn't too scared, I think he'd melt if he went out at night. There was a time when you'd be able to walk down street late at night and enjoy the nightlife, smells and sounds of the Windsor at night. Now, you run into meth heads with guns. Shootings and stabbings are commonplace now, and all of it, drugs. Every night another stabbing on the news, another shooting on the news, another half dozen police cruisers blocking off another street for the night. Another homeless person is found dead in an alley and nobody knows, or cares, how they died. 

You don't see this on the news much, but it's out there. I see it every night. I see cruisers blocking a street, or parked crooked on a lawn, or zipping past at high speed. I see our police doing their jobs the best they can in  a city rife with crime, and the rich choose not to see it. (Drew). Now, I know I'm comparing homeless people with crime here, but there's a point to that.

Homeless and downtrodden people in this city, or simply the poor, find themselves caught in the middle constantly. The aforementioned shopping carts affirm that. At the Tim Hortons we sit at while on call, there is a motel across the street well known to the police as a centre of trafficking and prostitution (hence last night's methed up idiot). And every night there's a shopping cart full of someone's life here as well. The two situations always end up close together. Those owning the carts don't want to be there, they want a home. But they can't have one because the system failed them and they end up on the wrong side of the tracks.

This week it was announced that Street Help is closing down. Now, the woman who runs that place, Christine Wilson-Furlonger, is no friend of the city. Frankly, most people believe she's profiting on the back of poor people. But whatever you feel about her, the fact is she tried to do something. She made an attempt to help those who nobody else would help. And if your only possession in this dump is a shopping cart with junk in it, she was your friend. Now she's closing over a fued with the city (Drew).

So what's left? The Downtown Mission. A great organization I admit, they do great work. Lately they've installed a pay as you can dental clinic that amazingly enough is overbooked and jammed. (Can't imagine why, any ideas Drew?)

The Mission is over capacity, dirty, and constantly running out of food and money. With the announcement of Street Help closing it will surely get worse.

But don't worry! Drew has a solution! Drew and his council croneys to the rescue! Windsor City Council is selling the main branch of the Windsor Public Library downtown, to the Mission. Problem solved! Located just a few feet away from their current digs, the library building will fully contain all Windsor's homelessness away from anyone who might see them, like, you know, rich people. And all it will cost the residents of Windsor is their iconic cultural learning resource centre. (Who needs that anyway, we have the internet). Besides, the library hosts homeless people all day anyway. They go there to catch up on the news, sit down in a comfy chair and read books. So nothing much will change, right?

Welcome to the new Downtown Mission, our old library, Windsor's new District 9.

Obligatory Uplifting Summer Bullshit Post

I was informed that I haven't written for quite a while, and some people who think I have a gift for this are annoyed. So... this.

And if you are thinking that I'm starting to write this with no destination or even frankly, any point, you're correct. I'm winging this one.

Summer arrived last week, the day after it snowed. It was gone in a few hours, but it made a shy appearance, and today, the rain has finally stopped, bringing the sun with it. Birds are singing, people are out in droves, leaves are budding, blah blah blah blah summer bullshit. It's nice, it happens every year around this time, and we relish it. I'm already staring at my canoe.

This summer has new focus for me, I'll be in school for the first time in over 25 years by June. I'm getting my AZ licence and getting into a truck. This is a huge career change, I'm a graphic designer, pretty far removed from the open road. But I can't wait, this process has taken five months and a ton of paperwork, but it's now real, and I'm geeked to start. I had other plans this summer, I almost sold my house, so I've been working like a dog on it to get it ready for market, but a new career takes precedence. So I'll stay in my little basement apartment for a while longer yet. My new car also got pushed down the list of things to blow a ton of money on. I'll save the new Camaro for my congrats present to myself once I get a new gig driving somewhere.

Summer brings motivation. We're out of the doldrums of winter, the sun beckons, and renewed vigor and attitude have prevailed. So I'm working out. A lot. It feels great to get moving again as my energy levels have elevated me to a point of wanting more. Winter meant not wanting to do anything that didn't require a pillow and remote control. Now, I don't want to be anywhere but on my bike, on the drums, or in the gym. I turn 50 this year, and I'm not taking that kick in the teeth sitting down, (here we go with metaphors). I'm taking the bull by the horns and knocking that bugger down. As it is, I don't look my age at all, and I love it. Most people guess my age around late 30s. Sometimes I've not corrected them just for my own amusement or self-gratification. Other times I love seeing the looks on their faces when I tell them I've been around for a half century. I smile with the reactions. So why should I act it?

Age is a number, 50 is a bloody big one, and it scares me, so I'm refusing to accept it and go down without a fight. Summer is the key to that, getting outside and getting active is the only way to fight the onslaught of aging. I love seeing older folks out cycling, walking, playing ball in the park. At this point in our lives rebirth and rejuvenation is everything. Last week I went for a walk with my friend, and we passed a playground. She's 53, I'm 49, and it didn't fucking matter. We jumped on the swings, went down the slide a few times, climbed the monkey bars and tried to bump each other off the teeter totter. I'm sure there were kids looking at us like we invaded their space. I'm sure they were thinking 'what's with these old fuckers on OUR playground!' I'm sure they went home and complained to their parents, who in turn, went and played on the swings themselves.

Summer isn't all fun, working outside on a hot day is a bitch. I've got work to do around here and it's been pushed back, fuck it, it's playtime. We've all got a finite time on this pale blue dot, and for many they wasted their time here. Work, work, work. All work and no play makes Keith an asshole. So nope. In another month I'll be spending my summer in a classroom. For now, I spend my nights driving and my days daydreaming under a warm sun. It will have to end soon, so why not take advantage of it. Why not embrace your inner child and just enjoy life. 

I took some hits this past year and I've spent much of my time mired in my own negative thoughts and fears. Nobody is going to fix that for me, and nobody is going to fix your fears. However good it feels to let my hair down and see life's little spontaneous brilliance, I still have to keep grounded in the affairs that have kept me back, and fix them. We all do. But perspective is key. Maintain your negative mindset without creating a path forward is cowardly. Get yourself fixed the best way you can, take time to appreciate the little things and bigger things will follow. I'm starting to sound like a broken record here, same old positive enforcing bullshit. But frankly it's true. 

The rebirth outside has brought a rebirth inside.

In another month or so the summer will be old hat, again. As it does every year. But this year I'm not letting it get old. I'll be out on the water, camping, biking, walking, drinking, playing, enjoying. I'll be with my friends, and making new ones, I'll be spending a terrific day with people I love doing things I shouldn't. Because at some point adulting will happen again, and I'll have to be responsible, I'll have to fix things, pay bills, write tests, and answer for my silliness.

At some point, but not today.

Cheers.

Fear

At a certain point in our lives we become complacent. We become stagnant, and we make a decision to float along the river of life. Not paddling anymore, just riding the current. Our families are established, our careers are winding down the road, and we're just happy to spend the time we have with those we love and do the things that make us happy.

Then opportunity comes knocking. Or, as in my case, you force yourself to find the opportunity. That's where I find myself today. Sitting in my little apartment facing the prospect of my life completely changing at 49 years old. Not really any big deal if you consider my father was 49 when I was born, so his life changed radically at this age as well. I think my issue is that I'm slow to grab the paddle and change the course of the boat.

For the most part I like my life. I have a great degree of freedom, I'm not tied down, I have great friends and family, and I love the fact that I can do pretty much anything I want within reason. (and within my wallet). Don't get me wrong I do have responsibilities, but they don't control me the way they did when I spent 10 hours a day in a cubicle. Working for myself has several advantages and allows me the flexibility I have become accustomed to. But something is missing. Actually, a lot is missing.

I have three phone calls to make today. Phone calls that will change the course of the river and open new possibilities to me. But I'm afraid to make them. The phone sits in front of me as I type this, the numbers written on a small sheet of paper on the table. And I'm afraid to make the calls. Why? Am I too engrossed in this lifestyle I've become accustomed to? Am I afraid of change? Am I just lazy? I don't know. I do know that these three phone calls will each affect me, and the sum of those changes will add up to a completely new life for me if all pans out. 

This isn't the first time in my life I've stared at a phone. I've done many things in my life but at the end of the day there are things that remain constant; things that are a solid foundation of my existence. These phone calls will uproot those very foundations. I shouldn't be afraid of this, I should be exited. I should be eager to jump at new challenges and opportunities. 

The phone is still sitting there.

I know one thing that will come of these decisions is that someone close to me will not like them. Changes in my life will affect others, and of course that bothers me. But at the end of it all, this is my life. Nobody else can dictate to me what I do with it. Unless of course I decide on something ridiculous, then I'd expect the obvious intervention. That isn't the case here. I'm sure those affected will understand. Maybe that's another reason I haven't pulled the trigger? 

I'm not a jealous type. I see people doing what they want in life with lots of money and freedom, to that I say good for them. That being said, It does make me think there's no reason why anyone else can't do that as well, hence the phone calls. The phone calls I haven't made yet. I can do this, I just have to push past the self-imposed barriers and realize that I'm the one who will create this change. I'm the one who will initialize the butterfly affect. I'm the one who matters here.

Fear of the unknown is what keeps us from experiencing life to it's fullest. Many people thrive on this fear and embrace it. For the past few years I've evaded it. I think it's time to try again and just into the unknown waters.

I'm dialing now.