Motivation / Inspiration

          Chicken is in the oven so I figured I’d pen a few words, if that’s ok with yawl. Also, I have had little to no motivation to post anything worth your time and for that I am sorry. So here it is.

          It has been some time since my last posting, and I have to say a very heartfelt sorry for the longevity of time between offerings. It has been an unusual number of months to say the least. I won’t bore you with all of the gory details but will give you the “Cole’s Notes” version of the goings on.

          Starting with the recent changes, and there are a plenty, I now live alone. Found my own abode. Well, not exactly alone, just me and my dog Mike. Mike is my reason, my inspiration, my meaning. Yes, the world does revolve around my dog. Mike The Wonderdog to be exact. He has his own Facebook page. But I digress.

          The “move”, itself, happened just over a month ago. It was a long time coming, and I am feeling pretty good about the entire thing. I was about to call it an episode, but then realised that that was just a bit extreme. Episode implies a series of dramatic, reoccurring events, with twists and turns, and plot changes, which lead down a path to a conclusion that you weren’t expecting. Like on television. Well it’s nothing like that…at all. This conclusion was expected and seen from at least a mile away, if you were looking. And I was.

          Back to me.

          I feel that I need to make this very clear, if only for the sake of the activists and or snowflakes that know absolutely nothing about my dog, Mike has suffered no ill effects, anxiety, or adjustment issues, other than the first two days, he barked a couple of times when I left for work. He missed nothing and nobody that was not integral to him, and we have endeavoured for that two day period, and continue to do so, as normal. He is the best dog ever. He loves everyone, other dogs, and life in general. That said. If I'm not home, do not attempt to enter my apartment. You will get a face full off dog. Protective mode engaged.

          A weight seems to have been lifted from my stress level. Not only do I feel much better about myself, nor I am more active, I am eating healthier, am creatively cooking more, and have lost a ton of weight. Two pant sizes to be exact. My ass looks amazing by the way. Sorry, not posting selfies at this time lol.

          Let me preface this by reminding a few of you, and the rest of you, to look back at my previous entries. I lost a ton of weight when I was sick three and a half years ago. I lost a bunch of weight, including a ton of muscle mass in a very short period of time. I dropped from a 40 inch waistline to below 34 within 2 months. I refused to buy anything smaller even though this was the second time buying smaller clothes. The 34s became baggy. For the first time since I was 23, I weighed less than 200 pounds. After all of the loss and the work to gain weight, I was wearing my 38s for the longest time. My 34s now fit me perfectly. My Cancer pants fit, but properly now. My ass still looks great by the way.

          I’m not looking for this to be a reminder or reflection on all of the crap surrounding my Cancer stuff. Not at all. I drifted off, and we’re good. All is good.

          This is all good stuff. I have a ton more to tell you all about but I’m going to save it for another entry. Spring will happen and will be amazing.

Unknown Holiday

In my many years to choose from, and I do have plenty of them, I think that this past year is the one to go down as the one that passed the fastest. I also need to note that it seems to also be the year that the most things happened to me within it. It really was a strange year. All of the crap, and the good, that went on with my job(s), life, money, truck, bike (motorcycle), stress level, and my dog. I can’t forget my dog. Did you notice the plural? There were a couple of job changes as well. All for the better, which affects all of the other items in one way or another. Except for my dog.  He’s unconditionally immune to the woes of humanity. Lucky buggar.

It’s been an interesting year for sure but that’s not what I wish to talk about. Another special day in the never ending long list of special days has come and gone once again. Not un-noticed by any means, no. But came and went just the same. Most of you have probably never even heard of this worldwide holiday and don’t even realize that the entire premise of this holiday applies to every single person on this little blue planet of ours. Is the suspense just eating at you yet?

It was International Chris Gaines Day just a couple of days ago. That’s correct. You heard it here first folks. And with the exception of a handful of wonderful people, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart, the majority of the world missed it. I mean completely dropped the ball on this one I must say. As if it was just another normal day in a year of seemingly endless days.

And rightfully as it should be, because it means nothing to anyone else. International Chris Gaines Day, as I call it, is a specific day that happens only once a year, and is celebrated by one person. I made it an International holiday so I can celebrate it wherever I happen to be in the world at the time. As I said earlier, only the premise applies to everyone.

Every person on Earth has their own designated International holiday. Did you not know about it? Oh yeah, it’s very real, and most of you have been doing it wrong all this time. You all have one day each year that’s your own, given to you at birth that no one can take away from you. It’s yours to do with as you please.

Employers should be legally bound to happily give you the day off because of that fact. After all, it’s your very own International holiday. If not, book off of work and spend it at your leisure with people you love, doing something special for yourself.

Birthdays are to be celebrated but it’s not always about the party. Ok, sometimes it is, it’s more about doing something special for yourself no matter what that may be. And as long as you enjoy the day doing something you want, who cares? It’s your day. You only get one a year so use it wisely.

For everyone reading this, and everyone not, whether early or belated, Happy Birthday. I truly hope you have a wonderful one.

Mr. Cole

          A pivotal game this evening in the NHL, and yes I’m watching Hockey Night in Canada on the CBC broadcast. It’s the Montreal Canadians vs the Ottawa Senators, in Ottawa tonight. A pivotal game because of the fact that Montreal is ahead of Ottawa by one point for first place in the Eastern Division. Ottawa also has one game in hand. Very exciting situation, and rather important game tonight. If by some chance you don’t understand what I mean, ask a friend who watches hockey. It really doesn’t matter what part of the world you are in, the analogy will translate. No, I’m not kidding.

          So, I zone into the game, set up my Budweiser Red Light (Google it. Pretty cool device. Every hockey fan should have one), find a good live stream (I don’t do cable anymore. I have a dedicated PC tower for my 50 inch Samsung with a wireless mouse and keyboard), select my adult beverage(s) for the evening, then strategically arrange my snacks according to food group (I use all 4 food groups, Box-Bottle-Can-Carton), and then hunker down for an evening of sports titillation thanks to professional hockey. Let the game begin.

          My elation is rapidly and overwhelmingly deflated by the sound of that one and only, very distinct voice, that some executive, in upper broadcasting management, has allowed him to remain on the air, regardless of his level of senility or eccentricity. I’m talking about the only voice that can suck the life out of a hockey game like a sportscaster vampire.

Mr. Bob Cole.

For him to stay on the air this long, Bob must have photos of somebody in the executive office of the CBC fucking a goat or something. Or worse. That’s the only way to explain it. Really.

Don’t get me wrong here. It wasn’t always like that. Back in the day, when I was growing up, Bob was “THE” voice of Hockey Night in Canada. Every Saturday night he was there for the Toronto Maple Leaf games. Not just with the play by play, but with knowledgeable and jocular incites to the player’s profiles and to the game in general. He knew the game fluently and intimately. And for decades, literally.

Just to clarify. I am not a Maple Leaf fan, at all. Never have been, never will be. Even with a gun to my head. Nope. Maple Leaf fans have their own dedicated ward at the loonie bin in Toronto. Or so I’ve been told. I am a dedicated fan. I have two favorite teams in the NHL. That’s right, two. The Ottawa Senators, and whoever is playing the Maple Leafs. Like I said, dedicated. Hoooraaaaw!

Back to Bob.

I really do feel sorry for the man because he has been in the game for so long. But that day has unfortunately dissolved into the now. I have often watched games, listening to Bob call the play by play, and wondered if we were both watching the same game. His pace has slowed, he forgets players names, and loses track of the play by play, and generally makes stuff up. Or at least that’s how it seems.

I really don’t want to rip Bob a new arsehole about this but, it might be time to hang it up there Bob. We know you love the game. We respect and adore you for your dedication and knowledge. I know that I do, and want to say thank you for being there for me, for all of us, for the game we love, for the game you love, and for your devotion and dedication to it. You are, and will always be a true icon in the history of not just Hockey Night in Canada, but hockey itself.

If given the honour, and opportunity, I would proudly shake your hand.

Thank you Mr. Cole.

Delivering the Goods

          In an attempt to get back to the positive side of things, I thought I would refrain from the typical rant, and complaint of norm, and reiterate something a little more enlightening. Who knows? It may inspire a miniscule spark in some of us. And sometimes a small spark is all we need to change the world. Feel free to discuss amongst yourselves.

          Back to the topic at hand. I was in a discount store. Anyone in Ontario, Canada knows of this chain of stores. In short, it is a used item, discount store that has items donated to by local residents with a percentage of the profits going to charities. The store nearest me is affiliated with the Canadian Diabetes Association. A good cause in my book as I am type 2 anyway. Some pretty good deals to be had on an array of interesting items, and I do mean interesting. As they say, “one man’s garbage is another man’s gold”. There is a ton of gold at Value Village daily.

          So anywhoo. I was browsing through the items that fateful day, and was finding rather little to my interest when I spotted this young, college student couple conversing about a particular sofa that they liked. The “I love it, it’s perfect”, “would it fit in our space?” and “how do we get it home?” questions were flying. So being the soft hearted individual that I am (I am so, at times, depending on the people, lol), I asked, to where they needed to transport their perfect for them couch. Having a full size Chevrolet Silverado 2500HD pick-up truck with a full 8 foot box (no gratuitous plug here at all eh?) I offered to help them get their perfect couch to their new apartment.

          To make a long story short, I pulled around to the back of the store, loaded the couch, and drove it to the destination that was not that far away at all. Ten minutes at best. And yes, they drove a Honda “Something” that the couch would not even fit if you strapped it to the roof.

I helped bring it up the two flights of stair to their apartment. The couch barely fit around the stairwell corner and through the narrow door to the dwelling. To the relief of everyone involved, including me, it was, as they had said, a perfect fit to their new décor. Yes, new décor. This couple were furnishing their new apartment with hand-picked items from various outlets. A job well done I must say. They had pretty good taste indeed.

          To say that they were extremely grateful for my help would be an understatement. They thanked me endlessly. I did forget to mention their shock and surprise at my offer to deliver the couch in the first place. They were shocked, and surprised. Believe me.

After the couch was placed, I was offered some money for my troubles. I respectfully declined and explained that I recognized their dilemma in the store and had been in that position before myself. I declined the monetary gratuity and wished them well with their new purchase. They insisted that they give me something for me troubles, and I reiterated that It was not necessary.

The young woman then said, “A gift. Wait a moment”, as she raced into the back room, which took me by surprise. She re-entered the living room with a small cellophane wrapped box and explained in her natural accent, “I’m from Russia and this candy is a delicacy in my country”. How could I say no? I accepted graciously, thanked her, wished them the best of luck, and went on my way.

          The elated look on their faces, as well as their renewed faith in humanity was really my gift. I truly mean that. I don’t post stories like this for personal recognition. I really don’t. I don’t want it, I don’t need it.

I do it in hope that you people reading this may experience someone in a situation of need, and reach out however you are able to, and assist them selflessly. The world needs more of that.

          The candy was delicious by the way.

A Load of Crap

I’m going to talk shit in this entry. I know, I know. Some of you are saying to yourself “He does that every entry”. Well, I only have two things to say about that. One, you are entitled to your opinion even if you’re wrong. Two, you’re wrong (lol).

I’m going to talk about dog shit. Or more to the point, the abundance of it these days. There is actually a section of the street that I live on nicknamed “Dog Shit Alley” because of the overwhelming amount of crap on the sidewalk that people neglect to pick up. You cannot walk on the sidewalk anymore without stepping on a “land mine”. I shit you not. There is a blatant neglect to collect.

Are people becoming that lazy these days? The strange twist on this is that I see discarded dog poop bags that have been flung off to the side, or on someone’s lawn, randomly. The only situation that can I see here is that you picked up after your dog because there was a person, or people, watching. You then later flung the bag in a random direction when there was nobody watching. You poor excuse for a dog owner. This seems to be the only reason for the pick-n-fling. I bet that your dog looks at you with questioning eyes asking “why did you even bother to pick it up in the first place you pathetic example of a human? I think I’m going to run away the next time I get off of this leash”. And it’s becoming all too common, and not just in the city.

I run my dog on the trails that are a bit outside of town. We’re fortunate enough that there is a rather varied selection of trails within a close proximity, and we utilize them regularly. And yes, I pick up after my dog. Unless he goes into the woods where only he can fit. Then it becomes a nature issue along with the other critter crap.

Why is there a poop prejudice anyway? That’s right, a prejudice. Not quite a racism thing, but discriminatory all the same. Let me clarify.

You are walking along and happen upon a deposit of dog droppings. Your first thoughts are, “Eeeww, dog shit. Don’t step in it whatever you do”. You would even take it further as to comment on the lazy dog owner not picking up after his animal and the like. “I can just picture them, in their pajama pants, looking around to see if anyone is watching”. Don’t even try to deny it. You do so. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make here.

This shitty, lopsided, discrimination portion of the program is this.

You see Dog shit = disgusting (Yucky dog shit in the tread of my shoe. I need to find a stick to scrape this off.)

You see Horse shit = Interesting (Wow, look, horse shit! Don’t see that every day)

You see Rabbit shit = Cute (Oooh look. Fluffy little bunny poo.)

Splain it to me Ralph. Because, when it’s all said and done, it’s still just a complete load of shit.

The Notebook

Just in case you did not know, I have this notebook. I carry it with me most of the time to record anything of note that may occur during my day. I was going through this the other day and realized that there were a bunch of things that I had forgotten about altogether. And some pretty laughable notes too.

          We can call this “Cleaning out the notebook” if you want, but here’s the small of it.

          The lazy person award goes to the guy who parked next to the shopping cart enclose, went in to shop, returned to load his purchase in his car, yet left the shopping cart in the parking lot six feet from the cart enclosure. You lazy ass bastard. Six bloody feet? Really? I hope you pushed it far enough away from your car that you didn’t have to drive around it. How inconvenient would that have been? Gawd!

          There is no better way to completely ruin a good carrot muffin than to add walnuts to it. No need whatsoever. Muffins need not come with an explanation of “with walnuts” as a tag line. It should just remain as “Carrot Muffin”. No additions for Christ sake.

          National anthems at hockey games are sacred. Remove your hat, stand up, and shut up, unless you are going to sing along. Then sing aloud for all to hear, by all means, do it with pride. Unless you are one of those idiots that thrust themselves in front of the camera as it pans the crowd. If this is you, do me one favour and make sure that you know the words to the fricken song moron. Thrusting your face in the camera to sing the wrong lyrics does not make your Mom proud. It makes her face palm herself in disgust and hope other Moms didn’t see the video. Think about that.

          I am getting over a winter cold right now. It is that season and nothing out of the ordinary, other than that one thing the other day. Having the sniffles, I almost mistook my lock de-icer for my Dristan. Add your own expletive here.

          They say that opposites attract. I think that’s a whole lot of crap because I’m an asshole and my wife’s a bitch. Scenario debunked, so there. Wait a minute. Maybe that’s not true. Yup, just heard from my wife. She’s not a bitch, I’m just an asshole. I say that the topic needs more research. Just don’t tell me wife.

          I was getting on an elevator the other day when a gentleman called out to hold the door. Not being a complete shitheel, I heeded his request and held the door. He then thanked me and asked “Could you press two for me please”. To which I quickly replied, “Sure, which two”. All I need to say here is, yes, there was laughter.

          My wife’s supervisor has one of those Micro cars. You know, those little wee gas conserving, two passenger, no room for passengers, too small for groceries type of cars. It snowed one day. Not just a little bit, but quite a bit. When it came time to leave work, my wife announced, “We need to help Fred get his car out of the parking lot due to the snow. Everyone, go to the cafeteria and grab a spoon”.

          I have noticed that there is an astronomical amount of pet food recalls and notices these days. Dog food making dogs sick and at times killing some dogs because of toxic ingredients. Has corporate greed stooped that low? The one company that I have never heard anything bad about is Milk Bone. I have had a lot of dogs over my many years and never have I ever heard of a recall nor have any of my dogs had any issues because of their product.  

          Enough for now. Until next time

Resolutioning And Stuff

          So another year over, another begins. Yet everyone cannot help but reflect on the previous year’s happenings. Entirely natural and usually done at the bar New Year’s Eve with friends and strangers alike whether they want to hear it or not.

          It goes something like this. “Just listen”, “Ok wait a minute”, “I gotta tell ya”, “No, really, it happened to a friend of a friend of mine”, “I really shouldn’t say anything, but”, or “I’ve never told anyone this before, but”, bla bla bla.

          Drunken confessions or enticements are all that. Drunken and meaningless. Share it, mean it, shout it, tweet it, feel it, rub it, tug it, whatever. Same shit different year, right? And for what?

          Resolutions were, at one time, a verbal bond. A contract that you could not rescind under any circumstance because you gave your word. Your word meant something then. Your word was your bond. That was way back when your word was an oath of honor. Swearing on your word was your intent to fulfill the obligation. This is what made you an honorable person. Your word meant something, if not everything. Your word was you. If your word meant nothing, then you were nothing, and never trusted or taken seriously…ever.

Read this last paragraph again if you don’t get it.

To not fulfil your obligation meant that you were untrustworthy (Not worthy of trust or reliance) and would eventually starve to death because nobody would trade with you, deal with you, or trust you in any way whatsoever.

This is one product of evolution, in my opinion, that is due for a roll back. A de-evolvement if ever there was one to happen. Or to put it another way would be “Old School”. Let’s all go “Old School” on this one just to see what happens.  Whaddaya say?

I had a friend forward a joke to me that read:

I’m going to open a new establishment and call it “Resolutions”. At the beginning, there will be exercise equipment, so we can call it a gym. After the first two and a half weeks the exercise equipment will be slowly removed and it will just become a bar.