The Vacation Chronicles, The Interlude Between The Travel… (A Long Read)

As promised, here is a post detailing some of our activities during our vacation in New Brunswick. I’d like to premise this post by pointing out that some of it may come off sounding somewhat… shall we say, negative? This trip brought out a significant amount of enlightenment and opened my eyes to a significant fact. Bon Jovi once wrote a song called “Who Says You Can’t Go Home.” Well, Jon, the answer to that is me. I can’t go home. Or should I say, I’m home in Regina. And as I recount my time in Dalhousie, I’m going to explain that statement. Here we go…

We arrived in Dalhousie at a little after 4 o’clock local time after several days of hard travel, which you’ve all read about. I made a courtesy call to my mother to let her know that we had arrived, which prompted her quick arrival at our hotel. That was actually kind of nice and she got to meet Alexander in person for the first time. Once we checked in and unloaded the vehicle, she joined us in our rooms for a brief visit until the boys got to be insufferable. We decided to hit up a local restaurant called Pizza Delight for supper. We would come to dine here often during our stay and would soon realize it was one of our only options. But more on that later.

Supper was exactly what one might expect when dining with two small children; noisy, chaotic and neither kid wanted to eat the food in front of them. Luckily, no dishes were broken and no children were harmed in the having of this meal. All jokes aside, we briefly discussed our plans for the week, which was meant to include an overnight in Moncton to see various sights. Little did we know that any and all of those plans would soon go out the window. That being said, we planned a visit to my father immediately the following morning as I didn’t see any reason to wait.

Together outside my father’s nursing home

Since it was still a bit early when we returned to the hotel from supper, I opted to take a short trip to the cemetery to visit my brother. I think I may have posted in one of my travel updates that my folks got a headstone that has my name on it. Besides being intensely creepy, this was a somber reminder of my own mortality and where i currently exist in life. Not bad for my first day back to New Brunswick, eh? Nathan opted to spend the night at my mother’s, which made for a smoother night since the boys can never seem to be in the same room without destroying everything.

I woke up earlier than my alarm the following morning, which was odd since New Brunswick is three hours ahead from Saskatchewan. We started our day with caffeine and made our way to the nursing home were my father lives. Since Alexander is under five years old, he wasn’t permitted in the home so the only option for my father to meet his new-to-him grandson was to come outside. The photo above shows all of us posing right before both boys started whining they wanted to leave. Part of me understood that they’re kids and they had nothing to entertain them. Another part of me was pissed that they couldn’t accommodate my parents for more than half an hour.

We decided to go hang out, down at the beach. This particular stretch is called Inch Arran and I spent a significant amount of my childhood there. It’s changed quite a bit since that time, though. One change is the ice cream shop that I was standing in when I took the photo above. Alexander had some ice cream and Nathan had a small slushy. We continued on by watching the boys play on the park structures you see in the background. Nathan evidently got curious and wanted to go dip his feet in the ocean. I laughed and tried to explain that the water would be too cold for him.

He pestered me ad nauseam until I finally relented and told him to go ahead and change into his swim gear and to go ahead. I predicted that his sensitive, never-swam-in-anything-but-a-heated-pool flesh would last all of about thirty seconds… Long enough to submerge his feet and realize the error of his ways. You see, it was incredibly hot and muggy, especially with the humidity. But the ocean don’t care. it stays cold, especially to someone born and raised elsewhere.

My prediction proved accurate. He stepped into the water JUST long enough for his feet to become submerged and he commented on how the water was too cold. Then he jumped and freaked because he saw a crab. Classic Nathan… he played in the splash pad a bit but dried off and was done with water within a half hour. We made our way down to a truck stop restaurant called the Osprey for dinner that night. Unfortunately, the location has a play structure outside the main doors so there was no dining for the boys that night either. You’d think they’d get hungry at some point. Go figure…

My wife had cross stitched a beautiful design for my mother, which she presented to her when we visited my father. We agreed to have it framed in Campbellton, which is the town up the coast from Dalhousie. On the Thursday morning I brought it up to a specialized framing place that was only open to the public from 10 am to noon. They agreed to have the design stretched, framed and ready for pickup the following morning. The issue is that we were planning on driving up to Moncton the following morning and spending the night. I paid for the frame in full and made my way back to Dalhousie.

While we were spending yet another meal at Pizza Delight, I commented to my mother that her frame would be ready for pick-up the following morning. Since we would be leaving for Moncton in the morning and the location would be closed on Sunday and Monday and we would be leaving on the Tuesday morning, I asked my mother to drive up to Campbellton and pick it up. She refused… She explained that she no longer goes up to Campbellton and she wasn’t comfortable driving up there and told me I would have to get it myself. This rather pissed me off, because it would throw a wrench into our plans.

My alternative was to have us go to Moncton on the Saturday/Sunday instead of Friday/Saturday. No one wanted to do that, so I drove up to Campbellton on Friday morning with the intention of getting back and we’d drive down. By the time I made my way back to Dalhousie, we determined that we’d get to Moncton too late for one of the key attractions we planned on seeing; Hopewell Rocks. Therefore, we now had the afternoon freed up. I should point out that not only had I messaged a certain number of individuals that we would be in Dalhousie during the first two weeks of August, i also posted and blogged about it.

Despite that fact, I found myself with a significant lack of people to see and visit with. My mother was being stand-offish, declining to join us for our activities, even when it was only a few minutes from her apartment. This was disheartening, because the entire point of the trip was so that she could visit with her grandsons. I explained to her that we had no way of knowing when the next time would be that we’d return and Alexander would no longer be a baby, so she should be soaking that shit up while she could. It didn’t really seem to faze her.

On Saturday morning we got up at the absolute ass-crack of dawn because it’s a vacation and that’s what people do, right? No? Just us? In all seriousness, the goal was to reach Moncton for the noon hour when the tide would be low at Hopewell Rocks so we could “walk on the ocean floor.” Everyone was tired and cranky and it was blisteringly hot out. We travelled for four hours to reach the site and were slapped in the face by a $50 entrance fee. I was pissed. The last time I was there, I hadn’t paid anything to go in.

The curly haired, pimple-faced teeny bopper working the kiosk claimed there had always been a charge to visit the site but what did he know? I had leftovers in my fridge that were older than this fucker and he was arguing with me. We paid all of this money to walk for fifteen minutes and make our way down to the ocean floor. I was soaked in sweat by this point and you could almost see through my shirt. Nathan managed to get himself all muddy and insisted on leaving because he was bored. Never mind the fact we paid the cost of half a tank of gas and travelled all morning just to have him ignore the sights and want to leave.

Since he was filthy and obviously uncomfortable, I took Nathan back up the stairwell to the walking path where there were foot-washing stations. My wife, mother-in-law and Alexander stayed behind to view more of the site. I walked Nathan back to the trail entrance where he played on a play structure until everyone else joined us. I was fast realizing that I had shelled out thousands to travel to New Brunswick just to have my kids play at parks. Total fucking bullshit.

We left Hopewell Rocks and made our way to Champlain Place with the expectation of doing some shopping. No one did any shopping and everyone but me got some food at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. There goes my idea of bringing everyone for a nice seafood dinner in a few hours! It was unlikely the boys would eat any of it, anyway. We looked up a few of the attractions that we planned on visiting, saw all the inflated, ridiculous prices for entry and decided finally that there was no point in staying in Moncton for the night as we wouldn’t be doing anything we had planned on and were already paying for the rooms we had in Dalhousie. We piled in the car and drove back to Dalhousie. Almost 8 hours of driving for an hour of blistering heat and sweat that the kids ignored and we paid for.

On Sunday morning we basically hung around Dalhousie and there was very little else to do. I took Nathan to the indoor swimming pool on a couple of occasions throughout our stay but we really didn’t do anything besides that. Nathan spent a final night at my mother’s house, since we would be departing on Tuesday morning. On the Monday morning, we went back to the nursing home to say goodbye to my father and spend some time with him before going to lunch, doing fuck all for the day besides pack, clean and try to figure out supper, since Pizza Delight was closed on Monday. To be honest, I’ve never heard of a restaurant closed on a Monday.

It was a serious problem as we searched Dalhousie AND Campbellton and came to realize that almost every restaurant was closed. McDonald’s was obviously open but we had eaten enough of that on the way there to last us a lifetime. We ended up ordering from an out-of-town pizzeria called Greco and having a bite to eat at my mothers until about 7 o’clock. We said our goodbyes and hugged and piled into the car, intent on getting back on the road the following morning, which y’all have read the posts about. Right? if you haven’t, get on that shit…

All in all, it was a disappointing trip. Normally when I go home, I barely have a free minute from the people I meet up with and the things I do. This time, I came to realize that no one was reaching out, no one contacted me and everything was either closed or out of business. And it’s supposed to be the “busy” time of year… As I mentioned in a previous post, I got the chance to see a few dear friends and I’m totally grateful that I had the chance to do that. But this visit just wasn’t the same. Despite having not seen them in two years, my parents’ hearts just weren’t in it despite meeting their second grandchild.

I left Dalhousie feeling empty and as though for the first time, it was non longer my home. Dalhousie, and the Maritimes in general, will always hold a special place in my heart. So many firsts that I’ve experienced there… It’s where I’m from and that will never change. But I’ve come to realize that it isn’t my home anymore. The sharpest knife was the fact that this was the first visit to New Brunswick where I didn’t get to see Sensei. Not only did he know I was there and when I was leaving, he told me he’d get back to me and let me know when he was free. But he never did. I’m sure he has a reason but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s never happened before.

Ultimately, I’m not sorry we went. It gave my mother-in-law the chance to visit New Brunswick and meet my parents. My parents got to see Alexander and Nathan and spend some time with them (albeit very little) and I got to see a few people I hadn’t in years. I’ve been considering that the irony is that my wife and I are finally in a position of life where we can afford to take a vacation but we still used up my vacation time to go home to my mother and father. Perhaps it’s time to re-evaluate and make some different decisions. Some food for thought for myself… ☯️

The Vacation Chronicles, The Arrival…

Yes folks, two posts in one day! Actually, I’m only throwing this one in to let everyone know that we made it home to Regina, safe and sound. It was actually a pretty uneventful day. We left the seedy motel in Dryden shortly after I posted this morning and grabbed coffees at Tim Hortons before cracking west on the highway. I could go on about the various issues on the road, such as slow semi trucks and Nathan randomly pissing in empty bottles instead of having us stop (in addition to having us stop often, I might add), but in all reality, it was likely the smoothest of the four days back.

We crossed two time zones, ultimately putting us back in Regina at just shortly after 3 pm, local time. A quick stop at our local grocery store for a few items to get us through the night and I am now shaved, showered and have several loads of laundry on the go. Nathan isolated himself in his room as soon as he was through the door. I had to threaten the continued use of his device in order for him to come out and have supper. That boy is going to have some problems when school starts. Regardless, it’s been a semi-quiet couple of hours with the boys separated and my wife and mother-in-law doing their own thing.

Our total mileage since July 30th…

it’s been a long two weeks and I’m certain that those of you who come here to read about health & fitness, Diabetes, martial arts or the Buddha Dharma have had their fill of reading about my vacation. But if y’all will indulge me for a moment, there will be one more post tomorrow, covering the week between the trip out and the trip back. I took a bunch of beautiful photos of the area, so hopefully some of you will enjoy that, at least. But I’ll draft that post tomorrow, after a solid night’s sleep in my own bed at home. ☯️

The Vacation Chronicles, Vol. 8

Honestly, there’s a special place in hell for whoever designed Ontario’s highway infrastructure! I mean, seriously… Why is the largest Province with the longest length to cross, the only fucking Province without twin-lane highways? How does that happen??? We took to the road yesterday morning and grabbed our Tim Horton’s coffee and ventured out onto the highway. Within minutes, I was competing with campers, RV’s and semi trucks for space on the highway and to try and make up some time for the extremely long day we had ahead.

I know I’ve been complaining about the boys a lot during this trip and there’ll likely be more of that when I write up the singular post covering the actual time IN New Brunswick, but today I’m going to focus on Ontario and how its highways are trying to kill my family and I. At one point, a semi truck was trying to pass another one and came straight at us… IN MY LANE! I only had a moment to pull off onto the shoulder in order to avoid a head-on collision. This is why we need twinned highways through this Province, people!

Although I am certainly not trying to promote breaking any speed laws, there’s something to be said about the country’s largest Province being the only one with adequate highways. Unless you happen to be in close proximity to the Ottawa/Toronto areas, you’re pretty much screwed. Not to mention that the motel we had stayed in the previous night was grungy, smelly and the towels looked like they hadn’t been laundered since the same decade as their patterned carpet came from. Despite all these difficulties in trying to get from one end of Ontario to the other, I was somewhat entertained by something I found in a bathroom stall at a truck stop…

This totally made me laugh, which in retrospect probably wasn’t;’t the best thing for a random person to be doing in a bathroom stall with people on the other side of the door. I’m sure some of them were wondering why a guy was giggling while using the washroom. But I digress… We did have a fun stop where we fuelled up, grabbed some snacks and Nathan had time to ham it up for the camera outside of a lighthouse we were visiting…

All he’s missing is a sword and he could bathe in the blood of his enemies…

My wife and I had calculated the mileage and distance and determined that in order to successfully reach Regina today without arriving in the wee hours of the night, we had to reach Dryden yesterday. This would leave a little over 900 kilometres to cover today, give or take, which amounts to roughly ten hours of travel. This made sense on paper but we were all pretty spent and cranky when we reached Dryden and ready to end our day.

We had some issues with obtaining accommodation in Sault Ste. Marie on Wednesday night, which is why we ended up stuck in that light-awful motel. For last night, I was looking forward to staying in an actual large-chain hotel so that the wifi would actually work, there’d be complimentary breakfast and, oh yeah… I could actually shower and come out clean as opposed to dirtier than when I went in! Feeling safe and in a secure environment also played a big role.

After visiting four different big chain hotels and being told everywhere that they were fully booked, I was flabbergasted. One clerk actually told me that I should have booked ahead and I wouldn’t find anything anywhere, this time of year. I explained that we were cross-country travellers and couldn’t plan and reserve ahead as we didn’t always know where we would be staying, so what were hotels doing to accommodate guests such as us? She had no answer…

We once again found ourselves in a grungy, rundown motel with doors that could barely be secured, wifi that successfully kicked me off of work in the middle of an email and incompetent staff. We booked two rooms and while the family was out getting supper, someone tried to open my room door. When I opened the door to see if it was my wife, some guy was next door trying to open my mother-in-law’s door. I asked him what he was doing and he became confrontational. Even after I explained that room was booked, he argued. I spent the night on guard.

Having this behind the main building of our motel doesn’t fill me with a lot of confidence…

We obviously made it through the night but there’s no breakfast and this whole town feels quite dirty. I can’t wait to get on the last stretch of our journey and make our way back into the Prairies, where there are twinned highways, overnight accommodations make sense and our home is just around the corner. Today should be our last day of travel before getting home and getting prepped for my return to work on Monday. Work will ironically be the much-needed break from travelling that I need. It will be glorious! ☯️

The Vacation Chronicles, Vol. 7

Our second day on the road was by far the worst. Although it was only the second, I can easily predict it will be the worst when held up against the two days to come, as well. This is likely because we crossed through that bullshit part of Ontario where none of the highways are twinned, the speed limits are lowered to 90 km/h and there’s a fucking construction zone every few miles. We actually had a very decent start of day, eating a wonderful, hot continental breakfast at Best Western “Glo.” Those bastards do free breakfast right!

The entire day was a nightmare of trying to pass slow-moving vehicles and staying still for long periods at construction zones. Luckily, there was plenty of caffeine to get me through the day but there’s no denying that this leg of the trip had me testing every tool in my Zen belt. One of the things I try to remind people is that I’m not usually calm BECAUSE I study Zen… I started studying Zen to help me FIND that calm. And it works pretty well. Most of the time. But like an overwhelmed dam, eventually my temper gets the better of me and overflows, regardless of my ability to practice waking meditation.

Our goal was Sault Ste. Marie and by the light, we made it. If you recall from a previous post, this city’s hotels were all booked up because of some bullshit bicycle event. Considering yesterday was a Wednesday, so I assumed that things would be much smoother. We checked three different large-chain hotels, which turned out to be all booked up. My temper got deeper with every refusal. Although it must be great for business for them to be fully booked, it says very little about them as a business for their fellow Canadian guests.

We ended up booking into a seedy, piece of shit motel where the rooms smell like old factory closets that had wet clothing stuffed into them before the place was abandoned. My morning is starting with some leftover pizza and caffeine. Our goal is to hit Ignace or Dryden today. Hopefully, things will start looking up as we get farther west. ☯️

The Vacation Chronicles, Vol. 6

So the first day of our return trip to Saskatchewan started surprisingly well. Although I had assumed we were setting alarms for 6:30 in the morning, my wife’s went off at 6:00, effectively waking me up. I started sipping caffeine and leapt out of bed (yes, in that order) got dressed and started loading my things into the car. My wife, mother-in-law and kids were surprisingly swift and efficient and we were all loaded in the car at 6:50, despite our departure time being scheduled for 7:00. This is both miraculous and appreciated, as there is usually SOMETHING that delays us.

Hell, even the local Tim Horton’s had no lineup in the drive-thru, allowing us to quickly grab some hot liquid joe without delay. We were on the road and heading west before we were fully awake. We reached Campbellton and crossed over to the Quebec side relatively smoothly and without issue. The streets were quiet and once we crossed into Quebec, we automatically gained an hour on our day. An hour as far as the clock is concerned; our time in the car would remain unchanged. But I digress…

We encountered the usual bullshit along the way; light rain, semi trucks slowing us down, etc. We reached Mont Joli and stopped in at the next Tim Horton’s and grabbed further coffees as well as apple juice and snacks. It was shaping up to be a reasonably good day, making good time and crossing the Province reasonably quickly. Then, the toddler fell asleep. Then he woke up. Then the issues started. I’m not really certain why I was surprised; this is basically what he did on the way out, as well. It’s rough for a tangy Cook male to be strapped into anything for any long period of time.

We made such good time that by about 4:30 in the afternoon, we had crossed into Ontario and reached Ottawa. Since we had no chance to do so on the way in, I chose to have us eat dinner at Zak’s Diner, which is one of my favourite diners in the country. When we reached the Byward Market, the boys made their presence known by being rambunctious, running across streets without looking and being all-around pains in the ass. Kids, am I right? We ordered food and as we waited, it dawned on me to go check the Asian shop where I usually buy my prayer beads.

My mother-in-law and toddler joined for the short, five-minute walk that ensued and I was sorely disappointed to find that the shop carried none of the beads I typically purchased from there. I returned and ate my meal, which depressed me as it was almost literally twice the price of what I had paid for it in 2007 when I would have eaten there last. My two kids were being noisy, knocking things over and generally ruining the experience. Am I bitching about my kids too much? TOO BAD, IT’S MY BLOG!!! But seriously, I love them to death but kids and road trips don’t agree. With me. They don’t agree with me.

My goal had been to have us spend our first night heading home at the Chateau Laurier, right in the heart of downtown Ottawa. When the price of an individual room caused rapid breathing and random chest pains followed by profuse sweating and my left arm going numb, I chose to drive us out of town to Kanata, where I found a subsidiary of best Western called “Glo.” A chic looking, clean-cut little hotel, it was a comfortable night’s stay, after some screwing around to get the wifi to work.

There is apparently some free continental breakfast downstairs, so we’re going to go see what’s up with that before hitting the road again. Although we’re already in Ontario, the safe bet is that we’ll be spending a second night in this Province, given how long of a transit it is. Hopefully but the end of today, we’ll be close enough that there third day will carry us back into the Prairies and closer to home. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for some caffeine… ☯️

The Vacation Chronicles, Vol. 5…

Alright, folks! Here we are… It’s the end of the road or rather, the beginning of the road back, I guess. It’s been a rough week on the North Shore, for a variety of reasons. Despite posting and messaging several people that we would be here during the first couple of weeks of August, our time here has been reasonably dull. We basically paid a small fortune so that the boys could play in various parks, which they could have done at home without costing us so much. But I digress…

This morning, and I sincerely hope I got the time change right (my blog doesn’t change time zones), we will be packing up the car and heading back to Saskatchewan. All good things must come to an end but in all sincerity, this trip wasn’t ALL that great. There were some good points, such as seeing my parents. I also got to briefly visit with the friends who chose to make time for me (you know who you are!) despite being either ignored or having excuses made by the ones I DIDN’T get to see (if you follow my blog, you also know who you are!).

I could go into further depth about the good aspects and what parts were the most heart breaking, but I’ll be chronicling our trip back on a daily basis and plan on writing a lengthy post covering the entire time here, once I’m comfortably back in my home basement. So basically, tomorrow’s post will be about today’s travel, and so on and so forth. The reason I’m doing it this way is that I’ve been taking tons of photos with my point and click and will have to upload them to my computer and see which ones are usable or not before writing the post. In the meantime, stay tuned for the next few days as I write about how gaining an hour at every border heading west is a GOOD thing… ☯️

I Dream Of Golden Arches…

I remember my very first job out of college. I had been studying computer programming for a couple of years and was short some credits in order to graduate. In the meantime, my father had suggested I should get a part-time job in order to cover some costs. This was entertaining to me, since I had tried to convince my parents to let me take a year off and work for that very purpose AND to decide what I wanted to do with my life.

Most people who know me assume that my first job out of college was at my local McDonald’s restaurant. However, there was another… (does his best Yoda voice). I actually got hired by a local, big chain grocery store that had just moved and expanded its operations, meaning they needed more staff. I was hired as a part-time, overnight stocker. This suited me fine since my time in college had already saturated me with people and I could work the store during the hours it was closed without having to interact with folks much.

My shift started at 10 pm and I was about fifteen minutes early. yes, that’s right… I used to be early for everything, even back then. My “boss” was a battle axe of a woman who took no bullshit but flung plenty of it. I was immediately tossed out onto the floor to merchandise tons of product in a store I had never shopped in at an age where I had barely done basic groceries (I was 18, at the time). The next few hours were disgusting brutal, putting me through a ringer I should never have experienced. And that’s saying a fair bit, since I had been training with Sensei for years at that point and he doesn’t do ANYTHING lightly.

By 6 am, I was firmly convinced that this wasn’t the job for me, not to mention my blood sugars went totally haywire from working overnight. I advised my boss I wouldn’t be back and left the store. I remember feeling disappointed in myself as I had never quit anything in my life at that point. I suppose since I had only worked one night, I could consider it a trial run and not a failure. But that certainly wasn’t how I viewed it that morning. IN my despondent state, I walked away from the store and made my way into the downtown area where I stopped at the local McDonald’s to grab a breakfast sandwich. Nothing quite celebrates quitting a job like spending money you don’t have.

While I was waiting for my sausage McMuffin, I grabbed an application form and a matronly looking lady walked up and asked if I was applying. I told her I should, since I needed a job. She handed me a pen and said, “Please fill it out now and provide it to me before you leave.” I complied and gave her the application form before walking down to a gas station where my friend Guillaume was also working overnight and would be dropping me off in Dalhousie.

By the time I got home, the restaurant had already called and requested a call back. I did, and was asked to return for an immediate interview. I would only learn later that the gentleman who interviewed me was the franchise owner, himself. He hired me on the spot and the next week was a whirlwind of uniforms, training and development. Within a few weeks, I was working full-time hours. Within six months, I was promoted to shift manager. Within a few years, I was part of the second-level management that oversaw the restaurant.

You read a lot of jokes about “flipping burgers” and the demeaning nature of a low-paying, minimum wage job. But I’ll tell you something; working at McDonald’s for the years that I did taught me a number of things I wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere. Things like precision, speed, accuracy of orders, planning and organizing and teamwork. All of the social aspects of my personality that I had been lacking in high school and even into college had been corrected by the forced necessity of working amongst my peers in close quarters towards a common goal.

That’s why it’s so heartbreaking to see the current state of how these restaurants run. Where staff were motivated and driven to accomplish certain goals throughout their shift as well as get paid for their efforts, it almost seems as though the current generation is more focused on JUST the pay. Order accuracy and restaurant cleanliness have gone out the window. The state of most stores focuses on looking sleek and modern as opposed to focusing on the quality food that made McDonald’s the globe-dominating food chain that it was. Automation has taken away employees’ need to interact and converse with customers unless there’s a problem with their order. It’s kind of sad…

I bring this up because I’ve recently had the opportunity to dine and spend time in a number of different McDonald’s restaurants around the country and have noticed these trends. Although it was never unusual to have a restaurant here and there that was below the expected quality, it now seems to be the norm as opposed to the exception. I’ve carried all of the skills I learned while wearing the Golden Arches into my career. My work and management experience has served me well and inflated into a self-fulfilling prophecy of being the one who manages as opposed to the one who is managed.

This is food for thought for anyone who thinks that any particular job is beneath them or not worth doing. Besides the fact that someone has to do it, it’s important to recognize that there’s something to learn from any job that one does. And the skills and knowledge that you learn from these jobs can carry you forward and be useful in whatever career you pursue. And to the younger generation reading this, do better! If I get a sloppy burger one more time, I will totally super-size my complaint. Food for thought (totally an intended pun)… ☯️

You Are Not Your Appearance…

I grew up in a generation where appearance meant everything. Guy with long hair? You needed to get a haircut and get a job. Covered in tattoos? You were probably trouble and couldn’t be hired. Don’t even get me started on someone who happened to have piercings anywhere ELSE than in one’s earlobes. And only on women. Obviously. But times have changed and all lot of those statements are considered discriminatory against a person.

In some ways, a lot of ways, that makes sense. If I get a tattoo on my forearm, it doesn’t change my qualifications or my personality. It doesn’t make me a different person or incapable of being a nice guy and paying attention to others in a meaningful way. Most markets have started to move towards acceptance (in small doses) where coloured hair and tattoos are less of an employability and acceptance issue.

The only issue I have is when people use these things as a means of creating an identity for themselves. I’ve seen and I know a lot of people who do it JUST because “it defines me, it defines who I am.” That right there is bullshit, my friend. If you colour your hair, get a batch of tattoos or start piercing holes in your body to define who you are, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. (Remember please, that this is an opinion post)

Keep in mind that there is no better definition of you than YOU. What you wear, how you adorn yourself and what decorations you throw up on your flesh doesn’t define who you are. And if you intend on permanently altering your body in such a way, it’s important to ensure that you do it for good cause and because it represents something important other than trying to define you as a person.

Let me offer up a personal experience. In mid-2000, I got my first tattoo. Against the advice of most common-sense people, I got some Japanese writing on my left pec muscle. This wasn’t just any Japanese writing, since we’ve read the horror stories about getting something you thought said “hope” when really it says “sweet ‘n sour chicken” or some shit. This was the kanji symbol for Uechi Ryu, the Okinawan style of karate I had been studying for over a decade at that point.

It had meaning. It represented something important in my life and it was a reminder of the commitment I had made to myself towards my training and martial arts. It didn’t define who I was, I didn’t splash the symbols large and prominent on my face, neck or forearms for every person to stop and either ask where I got it but likely to also smear at me like I’m some sort of trouble maker. Although that sort of discrimination has lessened over the past couple of decades, it still very much exists. But this is a post about oneself, not the world’s narrow views. Moving on.

My point in all of this, such as it is, is that I didn’t use some external detail to define me as a person. And neither should you. Like tattoos? Great! Get one because you want one and it means something to you, not because you feel it will define you to others. THAT’s the point. THAT’s the lesson. Who you are is who you are. Nothing you do or add will change that. It’s what you DO that can be changed. Your appearance doesn’t define you. There is no better definition of YOU than YOU. Once you come to recognize that fact, the rest is just gravy. Food for thought…☯️

Planning And Packing Are Key…

One of the big issues with having Type-1 Diabetes is the fact that I can never just get up and go somewhere. It’s not so bad if I’m just heading around the corner to the grocery store or running a quick errand. But even that will have a tendency to involve checking my blood sugars before getting behind the wheel, It can be a onerous process, especially if you’re headed somewhere that will have you out of the house for several hours.

I usually carry a small shoulder sling, which is basically a one-stepped backpack but smaller. No, it’s not a purse, you fuckers! And even if it was, we’re in 2022; I think we should be okay with it even if it was. But I digress. In this backpack I carry some fast-acting carbs on the form of jelly beans, a glucometer, a snack and a small travel-sized first aid kit. All of these things can be life-saving in the event of an incident involving low blood sugar or light injuries.

Things get even worse when I plan to be away overnight. And yes, I know that I promised I’d stay off the vacation posts until we started travelling back to Saskatchewan and I intend to hold to that. But one particular detail happened that directly relates to today’s subject matter. When we were planning this trip across the country, I made a point of purchasing and packing a small cooler pack intended to contain ALL of the Diabetic supplies I would nee in order to survive my trip away from home.

Although it isn’t uncommon for me to forget something, I forgot something rather important this time around; I forgot my CGM sensors. Now, some of you may be wondering why this is a big deal. After all, I survived for three decades before I started using the bloody things so a couple of weeks shouldn’t be a big deal, right? The problem is that consistent blood sugar control is a constant thing when one has Type-1 Diabetes and that control is all the better and tighter when I have the benefit of my insulin pump’s SmartGuard system to measure and maintain my blood sugar by testing through the CGM every five minutes.

As to what exactly happened that I forgot AN ENTIRE FUCKING BOX OF SENSORS ON MY DESK is beyond me. All I know is that by the second day of our journey, the current sensor expired and when I tried to swap it out I realized I had none in my cooler pack. There it was; I was thousands of kilometres from home with no CGM. Okay. No problem. No biggie. I won’t cry about it (much). I figured I would continue on the road and pick up a box at whatever pharmacy I came across while travelling. This has been my practice with things such as insulin and test strips. Hell, I’ve even schmoozed my way into getting free glucometers that way, which is why I have a spare one in the car, now.

But continuous glucose monitoring sensors seemed to be an unfortunate exception to my travelling habits. My first attempt was in a small town outside of Ottawa called Arnprior. I asked the pharmacy technician if they carried Medtronic products. She had no bloody clue. She got the pharmacist for me, who had no idea what Medtronic was. He tried looking it up and I even spelled it for him. He confirmed he didn’t carry CGM sensors. I could see Freestyle Libre sensors behind him, but I intended to use this ONLY as a last resort. The pharmacist added insult to injury by saying that if any pharmacy in town carried something, he made a point of carrying it as well so it was unlikely I’d find what I was looking for in Arnprior.

Alright. Okay. That’s all VERY weird. From a pharmaceutical standpoint, I would have thought that names like Medtronic would be pretty common and well-known. Apparently I was wrong. I left the pharmacy and we continued to travel until we reached a small town in Quebec where we bunked for the night. I didn’t look for a pharmacy that night, running my pump on manual mode. When we finally made it to Dalhousie, I attended the local pharmacy and dearth with a pharmacist I had graduated from high school with.

Besides the pleasure and nostalgia of dealing with an old friend, I was surprised to hear that she also had no idea what Medtronic was. What the hell…? Did no one else in the eastern half of the country use an insulin pump? I was taken aback but I finally relented and asked to purchase a Freestyle Libre, otherwise known as the “poor man’s CGM” to get me through the next little while until I could get my hands on sensors from somewhere, She did me one better and gave me a sample pack she had received from the distributor when they came out with the Freestyle Libre 2. I was set.

I’m obviously running on the Freestyle Libre 2 at the moment and taking advantage of the immediate ability to scan the sensor with my phone and get an immediate sensor glucose reading but it’s obviously not the same as having my Guardian CGM and SmartGuard taking the reins. It illustrates the importance of ensuring I pack properly and don’t forget anything. Having my wife double check my bag can also be a good idea.

Although I should be used to travelling with Type-1 Diabetes, one can never be too careful. And I learned an important lesson that even thought I USUALLY run to a pharmacy if I run short of something, it doesn’t mean every pharmacy will always carry what I need. I can promise and guarantee that I’m going to be more cautious and hug my sensors tight when I get home. It makes the planning and organizing of any trip all the more important to ensure there’s no disruption in the proper care of my Diabetes and blood sugar management. True story. ☯️

In Order To Make It Easier…

People say that you need to be motivated in order to accomplish one’s goals. I respectfully decline. I think you need to simply take a first step. The success of that first step will provide the motivation later and said motivation will help fuel one’s drive, which will in turn ultimately push you towards push you towards your goals.

Many people will fizzle out early in their goals and believe it or not, that makes a lot of sense. This happens for a variety of reasons and that’s why I wanted to use today’s post to offer up a short list of things that can potentially make reaching one’s goals difficult. Here we go…

1. Set realistic goals: This one should be simple… Actually, it dawns on me that I say that a lot but it should. A goal should be something simple and realistic. For example, if my goal were to become an astronaut, someone would need to splash me with a cold dose of reality. After all, I’m in my 40’s and nowhere near the shape I need. Not to mention that I have this little thing called Diabetes. For these reasons and many others, I would never be able to become an astronaut, making it an unrealistic goal. Diabetics may go into space at some point in the future but it likely won’t be in my lifetime.
2. Even if you set deadlines, take your time: Whatever you set goals about, it’s important to remember that you’re a human being with basic needs and requirements and you deserve to do things properly. Deadlines can be great, especially if there’s a reason for them. Someone wanting to lose a particular amount of weight so that they’ll fit into wedding attire is a good example. It’s better to do something slowly and properly then rushing it and potentially risk your health AND your results.
3. For the love of light, take breaks: Being on a deadline or having specific goals can actually be pretty stressful, even if you’re motivated. Don’t forget to allow yourself some breaks form your endeavour somewhere in that mix. If you’re on some specific weight-loss diet, allow yourself that small cheat meal. If you’re on some fitness journey, take break days. In fact, it’s been proven that people who allow themselves an indulgence here and there during diets will have better success and breaks days are a must in order to allow muscle recovery and better fitness results.
4. Don’t be discouraged, especially by others: This is a big one and a personal pet peeve of mine. Making it worse than the usual pet peeve is that I’m guilty of it, myself. If you’re eating a particular diet or trying a particular fitness routine, it can be hard to stay motivated if someone is telling you it’s dumb or it doesn’t work. My offence is that I’m a firm disbeliever in fad diets. The only genuine way to cut through fat is to burn more calories than you take in. And certain dietary choices piss me off, which is why I unfortunately belittle them when someone else mentions them. This is a horrible practice and one that I need to stop (and I’m working on it).

Whether your goal is to improve your overall health, undertake a new sport or workout routine or just to get healthier, goals will help get you there. Being smart about it and recognizing how your progress can be helped will go a long way towards helping to ensure that you cross that finish line. Having a partner in certain goals can be helpful, as well. After all, we tend to push harder when we have a workout partner, Either way, taking steps to ensure the success of your goals will lead to better health, better well-being and better Diabetes management. Food for thought… ☯️