Category: Feel Good Story

The Second Family…

Most karate practitioners have been there and I spent decades experiencing the same routine… Your dojo doors open up and you show up for class about thirty minutes before start of class. There’s some friendly “how are you’s” and hellos exchanged while stretching. Maybe you engage in a form or two and do a bit of light shadow sparring. Sensei is always the first one there and always makes a point of asking you how your weekend was or, if you’re on the last class of the week, will ask you what plans you may have for the weekend to come.

Sound familiar? It should. This is the sort of social nicety that one can expect when entering a dojo and before starting class. Setting aside for the moment that not all dojos have the whole “get here half an hour before” mindset, you can usually expect that people who train together will bond together. Relationships and connections will develop, which will lead into a more social connection beyond the immediate purpose for being in the dojo, which is training in karate. This aspect is important, not only for you as a person but for you as a student, as well.

These connection make it easier and more comfortable to train in the dojo environment and allow for material to be absorbed and learned easily. If one is able to think back to the initial year one started in a dojo, there was awkwardness, silence and it felt as though one’s skills weren’t progressing. Some of that could likely be attributed to the fact that those interpersonal connections and relationships hadn’t been solidified yet, which led to less questions being asked, less people being approached for coaching and less overall learning.

Some may comment that this isn’t entirely accurate and that it doesn’t really play a role but I’ve seen it firsthand. It’s very hard to learn if you train like an antisocial douche who sits in the corner and doesn’t connect with anybody. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ll learn NOTHING. But you certainly won’t learn at the level you should with the quality of teaching that a dedicated student deserves. The worst is when the teachers and instructors do their best to reach out but the student STILL wants nothing to do with connecting to other fellow karateka.

All that being said, my point is that training in karate has so much more to offer than just being in the dojo. It’s the semi-permanent connections made with the practitioners. For example, you can tell a lot about the dynamic of a dojo by what happens AFTER the class. For the most part and from what I’ve seen of many dojos I’ve trained in, the class closes, people change and get the hell out of dodge. I even trained at one dojo that boasted shower facilities on site but I’ve never seen anyone use them. Considering the key holders are usually standing there waiting like vultures for everyone to get into street clothes and leave, that’s not surprising.

In my home dojo, it usually took at least half an hour for everyone to leave. This is because once class closed, you’d have students helping each other with technique, or people would start chatting and conversing, almost to the point of hanging out. Hell, my home dojo had a standing tradition that on the last Wednesday of every month, senior students would get together to grab a beer after class. Stories and laughs would be shared and even if we were all karate practitioners, most of the conversations would be unrelated to karate. Imagine that? Even now, when I travel home for any reason, I make a point to have social visits with Sensei and others I’ve trained with. These are relationships and bonds that last a lifetime and can never be undone.

Am I saying this phenomenon is necessary to train in karate? Absolutely not. Considering I’ve been effectively training for over ten years by myself, by virtue of there being no schools of Uechi-Ryu in Saskatchewan, I think I’m living proof of that. What I’m saying is that it makes it BETTER. It makes it more fun and more motivating. Like it or not, human beings are pack creatures and we are drawn to others of our kind. To develop those bonds is to provide an undeniable benefit to one’s training and ultimately, to one’s overall personal development. Food for thought… ☯️

The Naked Shower…

There must be a balance in life. This applies to all things, positive or negative. For example, although I enjoy the benefits of pump therapy to treat my Type-1 Diabetes, there are some definite negatives to wearing a pump and continuous glucose monitoring. I experienced some of those negatives during my recent travels to New Brunswick. They include having to calculate the number of pieces of replacement gear I’d need for the trip, including infusion sets, sensors, reservoirs, gluco-sticks for my blood metre and a partridge in a very annoying pear tree. Getting through airport security is also fun, as it usually requires me to be physically pat down instead of going through the same way everyone else does. But I digress…

Once in a while, the positive rises up to counteract the negative. I had the opportunity to experience that, this morning. I got to take a naked shower. Now, you may be asking, “But Shawn, isn’t everyone naked when they shower?” First of all, no, because you don’t know how other people shower, so save your questions until the end of the class. But what I mean, is that I had absolutely no pump equipment on my flesh when I showered this morning. When I woke up, I only had a few units of insulin left and knew I’d have to change out my set. My sensor was due to expire within the next two hours, so I removed it to charge the transmitter, as well. The result was an abdomen clear of all my cyborg parts.

There’s a certain freedom to being able to shower completely unhindered by having your devices attached to you. It’s a very small thing that people take for granted but the reality is that when I shower, I usually have to be mindful to angle my body so that I’m not constantly spraying hot water on my sensor. To be clear, everything I wear can withstand water and even be submerged. The issue is with the adhesive that holds everything in place. Hot water exposure will almost certainly melt away some of the adhesive. And even if it doesn’t the adhesive will start to dry and shrink, causing it to peel away from the skin. And obviously, as I’m lathering up I need to avoid piling a bunch of soap and hot water on everything.

This morning was a rare instance where both my CGM and my infusion set were absent. I didn’t have to guard where the water fell, I could scrub freely at my leisure and I could let the hot water cascade upon me with abandon. It was an excellent start to my morning and providing a level of enjoyment in the shower that I rarely get… Feel free to insert whatever dirty jokes that you feel may be appropriate, here. But seriously, I often have occasions where I’m due to change my infusion set, so THAT’s off during a shower. Or on the rare occasions my sensor change happens at home (it usually happens at work), I get to have a shower with THAT off. But having both of them off at the same time is pretty much like playing Russian roulette.

So, there you have it. Just another day in the life of a Type-1 Diabetic with all of his first-world problems. But it’s certainly an interesting aspect that people usually don’t consider. I always joke around that I’m technically a cyborg; I wear technology that replaces the function of something in the human body and helps to keep me alive. There are a lot of benefits to pump therapy. But some of the little joys are worth mentioning. And enjoying. Food for thought… ☯️

Becoming The Patriarch, Part 9 (The Finale)

So, I’m going to end this travel series on the most positive note I possibly can. IN Sensei’ words and as I often write, for every negative, there is a positive; and vice versa. It’s been a rough week for me; dropping everything at the drop of a hat and travelling across the country to the East Coast to help my mother during a transition that I thought would never happen. Honestly, I always assumed she’d pass away before her mind went. But I walked away on Friday night confident in the fact that she’s safe, warm, sheltered and fed and has a great support system in place. In fact, I would have to go on record as saying I have the best fuckin’ family in the world. Part of me is thoroughly convinced that had they not intervened prior to my arrival, I would have been travelling out there to bury my mother instead of visiting her. But I digress… And I did say I would end this on a positive note.

The dark, foreboding roads of New Brunswick

As I wrote yesterday, Saturday morning saw me get up a few inches higher than the butt-crack of dawn and drive south on a dark, moose-infested highway from Northern New Brunswick and the City of Moncton. All in all, my travel day, if I include the driving (which I do), amounted to about 22 hours of total travel. Delayed departures threatened my ability to get home and flight changes at two different airports before touching down in Regina gave me a unique insight into the ignorance and undeserved self-entitlement that the general public seem to have when being in an airport terminal. But before I go off on some sort of negative tangent, I should probably get to the more positive aspects of my visit; of which there were many.

Taking care of a family comes with its fair share of responsibilities, which I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you. When we usually travel out East, the opportunity to kick back and go out is pretty rare. This is mainly because my mother doesn’t have the constitution or control to deal with Nathan and Alexander, which means we limit our outings and interactions while in New Brunswick to a) what can be done during daylight hours and b) all together. The result is that I usually never get to see many of the friends and associates I still have in northern New Brunswick because most of them work day jobs and after supper, we’re winding the boys down and trying to get them to bed. From my side of things, it would be irresponsible and selfish of me to leave my wife with the boys in a random hotel room in a community she’s unfamiliar with, and take the only vehicle and say, “Have a god night, hun! I’m off to shoot pool and drink beer. See you later!” Dick move, imaginary me. Dick move.

Flight 1 of 3. Let’s go, already!

This is one of the only occasions in nearly a decade where I was able to touch base and reconnect with some folks I haven’t hung out with in years. And I even got to go see Sensei’s son’s new house, which he had been begging me to go see for years. I reconnected and shared meals with some family members and was introduced to the wonder that is pork loin (Thanks, Daniel!) and will likely be trying to make it myself. I got to enjoy brunch with an old high school friend and fellow karate practitioner. I got to shoot pool and enjoy a couple of pints of the elusive Alpine beer, of which there is none in Saskatchewan. And last but certainly not least, I got to spend several hours sitting in Sensei’s warm living room reliving old memories as he provided sage advice and wisdom, even without asking for it. This is Sensei’s way.

Contemplating life at 32,000 feet

in some ways, many ways, my mother has managed to teach me some valuable lessons through this entire process, as well. A part of me wants to share the image my aunt took of my mother’s emaciated form when she found her. She was on the brink of death and looked horrible. However, I don’t feel it would be respectful of me to expose my mother in such a private moment and it could be triggering or traumatic for some to see her that way. But the bottom line is my mother reached a point where she realized she no longer had anyone to take of and spent her days in silence. Alone and depressed, she gave up. It isn’t until family stepped up to start helping and being there, that she started to regain some constitution and start to get better. The way she appeared when I left on Friday was night and day compared to the photo I saw, only two weeks prior.

Guess who was happy to see me?

The bottom line is that we all need people. In whatever way, shape or form that takes holds for each of us, we need that in our lives. For my mother, she spent her entire life taking care of others. She spent two decades on a state of constant hyper-vigilance looking after my brother until he passed. Then, my father’s paralysis took hold and she took care of him until he signed himself into a care home. Finally, both my grandparents reached their end-of-life needs, which my mother provided for both. It isn’t until the past year or two where she’s had absolutely no one to take care of or look after. Years of constant stress and adrenaline have taken their toll, which contributed to her current state but the biggest caveat is that she couldn’t be alone. That’s what started to do her in…

Whether some of us choose to admit it or not, human beings are pack animals and we need others in order to survive. My mother was a clear example of this, as she is once again thriving. As much as a 75-year old woman who’s losing her memories can thrive, of course. But the lesson here and what I picked up during this trying week is that life is short. No matter what school of philosophy you adhere to or what you think happens in the afterlife, the life you’re in is but a flicker. At the snap of your fingers, it’s gone. So it’s important to live life and take the time to appreciate your family, loved ones and the important things in your life. This is an important lesson that I’ve always known but the rigours and stresses of life sometimes make one forget. It’s just unfortunate that my mother had to nearly die in order for me to remember.

The lesson was driven home (pun intended) the most as I disembarked from the final leg of my flight, at the airport in Regina. As I descended the escalator, I saw my wife and my two sons, patiently waiting for me to arrive. As I reached the bottom of the escalator, no act of God or man could have kept my redheaded little daredevil from plowing through large, adult crowds to plow into my arms. As shown from the last photo above, he was up as soon as I was, this morning and has been attached to me, ever since. I guess daddy’s home. Life eventually starts to take away more than it gives. That’s the inevitable secret of life. That’s why we need to enjoy the happy moments when we can, despite having them peppered with the sad ones. It’s the balance of life that means the difference between living, and just existing. Food for thought. And with that thought, I’ve got some life to go live. It’s good to be home. ☯️

Another Year, Another Year Spent…

October 13th is a pretty typical day fro most people… Falling somewhere after Thanksgiving (in Canada, mind you) and a couple of weeks before Halloween, it’s a pretty unassuming day that most people tend to consider just another day on the calendar. But for me and 27 other individuals, it’s a fixed point in the history of our lives that altered the course of who we are and what we’ve become. Today is the anniversary of when I was sworn in as a peace officer with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

I’ve always believed that it was important to live one’s life without regrets. I still believe that, despite the many hardships I’ve faced in recent years and the ones I continue to face now. Every once in a. While, an individual makes a decision that becomes a fixed point in their lives from which all subsequent decisions will stem from. Such was my decision to become a police officer and try to serve the people of my country and help those who can’t help themselves.

Starting with a troop of 32 and graduating with only 28, I never could have predicted how taking on this career path would change me, in some ways for the better and some for the worse. I also couldn’t have predicted that doing so would make Saskatchewan my new, permanent home and where I’d meet my wife and have my children. But here we are! I can look back with absolutely no regrets and nothing but fond memories of the training, the discipline and the camaraderie that was developed during those long months of training, which ultimately brought me to the here and now.

A few of my troop mates were also posted to Saskatchewan and we had started a tradition on our 1-year anniversary that I had sought to carry on. We joined up in a neutral city and toasted our time with a shot of Fireball. At two years, we did two shots. At three years we did three and so on and so forth… It was a wonderful tradition until I crossed the line into 10 years and it started to become dangerous. I’m not in my 20’s anymore; downing a dozen shots, even over the course of hours, doesn’t sit well with my system.

Considering I’ve all but cut out alcohol consumption completely, this may be the first year that I find a different means of celebrating and observing the day that subsequently set my path for me. Next to joining karate, the day I became a police officer is one of the most impactful of my life. And since I was too fuckin’ young at the time, I have no way of knowing EXACTLY what date I would have joined karate. But one can’t celebrate everything, right?

It’s been a few years since I’ve worn the uniform and my path has since moved beyond that aspect of my life. But the memory and impact it carries will stay with me forever. Policing in modern-day society poses its own unique set of risks and complications. As my grandfather would say, things aren’t like they used to be be. And that is so true. Policing and police officers in general, are no longer viewed with the same reverence and place of respect as they used to be. We have a number of factors to thank for that but that can be a potty for another time. For now, I’m going to absorb the day, immerse myself in some memories and be thankful for the time I had. I only pray my old troop mates are still out there, keeping us safe and being safe themselves. ☯️

The Meaning Behind The Candles…

People tend to put a lot of stock and attention into the day of their births. For many, it begins at the very literal day of their birth, where friends and family will gather and celebrate a new addition to the family and beginning of a new life with infinite possibilities and directions. Although there are many cultural and societal origins behind getting one’s cake on during one’s birthday, most sources I’ve read all agree that celebrating the day of one’s birth likely began with the ancient Egyptians, some 3,000 years ago. The population would generally celebrate on the day a new pharaoh was crowned, as this was the day he was “birthed” as a new god. I don’t think I’d get away with trying to proclaim myself as a pharaoh. In modern times, it’s usually observed on the day that one is actually born from their mother’s wombs. This observance usually involves the singing of songs, eating of cake and the giving of gifts to the birthday person. But what purpose does it truly serve?

When one is a child, birthdays can be a fun and exciting day. You get to eat cake and treats, you usually get some gifts out of the deal and if you’re lucky and are attending school, you may have your peers doing something, as well. If you like that sort of thing. For me, I use to absolutely loathe having the entire classroom halted to sing happy birthday to me. So fucking embarrassing… It can seem nice and exciting as a child but as you slowly work your way into adulthood, it can become a tedious hindrance as it seems to be observed more by others than by oneself. Once a person begins to reach adulthood, they’ll often fall under one of two categories; those who are flattered and enjoy being recognized and those who prefer to simply let it pass as just another day. Just like today. Today is a Monday. The sun has risen, I can almost assuredly promise it will set tonight, and billions of people are going on with the daily grind of their lives regardless of this day.

I tend to agree more with the latter. At a young age, I began to acknowledge that my birthday was truly nothing more than a day where I had to get up out of my chair every five minutes for the phone ringing. yes, I’m old enough that I had to get up to use the phone. It was pretty sweet when I was younger and all my relatives would give me birthday cards with cash in them. In retrospect, i wish I had banked all of that cash instead of consistently spending it on toys and useless bullshit. But that’s children for you. Hell, my kids do the same thing now, despite my attempts at bestowing the important knowledge of my experience upon them. But I digress…

These days, I tend to take my birthday as more of a stepping stone to the remainder of the year. A day when others try and recognize that my chronological age has increased by one digit but where I tend to try and stay hidden in a hole until the sun sets and my world can return to some semblance of normalcy. After all, a big point that people tend to forget is that one’s birthday is only one day. There are 364 other days in the year (depending on where in the world you reside and what calendar you observe) and every day that you wake up with air in lungs and life in your body is one you should celebrate. The day of your birth was simply but one of those days. All the subsequent days of your life hold a deeper and more meaningful importance as they likely contains what you DID with that life once it was given to you. And that’s far more worth celebrating than an occasion where your mother was likely in pain; a story she’ll usually be sure to share with you on every birthday (if she remembers). Food for thought… ☯️

Polishing The Ol’ Turd…

Home renovations are tedious, and can take a hefty financial and even emotional toll on even the strongest of souls. I’ve seen and heard of people renovating parts of their home that have led to financial difficulty and strife between marital partners that has resulted in separation. And what would one expect, when you dump a whole a whack of your hard-earned dollars into altering aspects of your home? this usually involves moving a whole bunch of shit and maybe having limited use of the one place in this life that’s intended on being your sanctuary and place for peace.

For us, we purchased our current home in 2016 when I was transferred into Regina during my policing career. Although the layout and structure of the house was sound, there were many aspects of it that were reminiscent of the late 1960’s when it was built, such as orange carpet and fake wooden planks on the walls of the basement, outdated wood-grain cabinetry and shitty window that radiate heat in the summer and frost up with ice in the winter. All that being said, we had assumed we’d only be in this house for 3 to 5 years, upon which time I’d be transferred to another posting and we’d be selling. We were wrong.

As a result, we found ourselves in the midst of a complete basement renovation due to structural damage and water leakage. Although not a bank-breaking endeavour, it provided a much-needed facelift to the basement and it’s now a fantastic, liveable space. Completed in late fall of 2021, we had discussed the potential upgrading of the upper floor as well. Back in May, we chose to renovate our upstairs bathroom, as this is one of the key rooms of the home that every family member requires. Through the progress made on our bathroom, we decided that coordinating flooring and drywall for the hallway and bedrooms would be easier if we simply did it all in one go. So we did.

After several long months of living like borders as we had to jam everything from the rear of the house to the front, and having the majority of the family camping out in the basement, we’ve finally completed the renovations and will be able to start moving things back into our respective bedrooms and bathroom. I had the pleasure of using our newly-installed bathtub and I have to say, well worth the money.

Nathan’s bedroom is red, because of course he needs something different…
The new bathroom, with everything fresh and modernized, including a deep tub, stone backsplash and new vanity.
The Master Bedroom

Although only a few months in total (we started in May of this year) it felt like forever and has made living within the home difficult. But the end results speak for themselves and we’re quite happy with how things look. Everything is fresh and new, and it sure is nice to walk along the new flooring without every step making it sound like I weigh a metric ton. Now that all of this has been put into place, we get to start the arduous task of putting everything back in place. A silver lining behind all of that is that it will give us the opportunity to go through all of our respective belongings and begin to Kon Marie the living shit out all of it and hopefully downsize all the non-necessaries within our household.

Although it can be easily agreed that renovations can be stressful and tough to deal with, it can be well worth the effort if you can find it within yourselves to push through and get through so that you can get the results you want. It will be nice to get Nathan back into his room, especially. I think the little booger has gotten to used to having access to a television throughout the night. But doing so will also give me back my fitness corner, which will be nice. Sleeping in my own bed, which I have been unable to do for the past four months, will also be icing on the cake.

The question now, given the rising cost and demand for construction materials and professionals to do the work, will be when we’ll be able to complete renovations on the front half of the house, which includes large windows and a kitchen. It may be a few years before we have the financial resources and the patience to jump into that piranha-infested bullshit again. But it’ll happens eventually. In the meantime, we get to enjoy the efforts of the contractors who performed the work for us. ☯️

A Little Fur Therapy Never Hurt Anyone…

Last weekend, my wife and I took our boys to a local zoo. Local being a relative term… We travelled three hours to get there. but I digress. The point is that with some of the extreme heat we’ve been having in recent weeks, spending long periods of time outdoors has been difficult, given that everyone in our household is fair-skinned and burn like Canadian bacon. So we grabbed the opportunity on a day when the temperatures were a bit cooler.

To be honest, I have mixed feelings about zoos. On the one hand, I’m not a believer of caging any living thing against its will. Although most domestic animals like dogs and cats have it way better than they probably realize, certain animals like birds, bears and large cats don’t belong in a pen, cut off from their natural habitats and relegated to a life of captivity. As a child, I never visited a zoo as my father very much shares those same beliefs. Now that I’m a father myself, I have to admit that there’s a certain benefit to showing all these different animals to my children in a relatively safe environment.

We left Regina early enough o reach Saskatoon around the time the zoo would begin to. Open to the public. Our thinking was to hit it up on a weekday so as to avoid some of the larger, weekend crowds. The boys were actually very quiet and composed on the way up. My wife and I had our coffees and breakfast sandwiches; the boys had their drinks and snack foods. It was a clear sunny day and we even enjoyed the entirety of the ride without music. Many would think that doesn’t sound great but it was nice to actually enjoy a quiet ride where there was no ambient noise.

When we arrived at the location, we were greeted at an entry gate where we were told there was a parking fee. This was curious, as one would think that an admission fee should usually include parking. But we were here and it wasn’t a hill to die on. I paid the parking fee. The parking lot was already quite packed but we managed to find a parking spot before making our way to the entrance kiosk. $40 later and we were in. After a long drive, we used a restroom inside a terrarium-style building, where the boys got to see fish, frogs, lizards and snakes. The day had begun quite nicely.

As were walking towards the inner paths of the zoo, I explained to the boys that there was a lot to see and experience and that they should take it all in and enjoy what they were seeing. As I was explaining this, I noticed a play park structure located in the middle of the zoo. I got a pit in my stomach as I realized that if my boys saw this park, all they’d want to do was go play in it. Why they would build one in the middle of a zoo, where the intention was to see animals, was beyond me. I strategically placed myself between the play structure and the boys and ushered them in a different direction.

I thin the boys enjoyed seeing the animals, for the most part. Everyone enjoyed the butterfly house the best, especially since some butterflies would actually land on people. We were less than an hour in when Alexander start pining to go home. I tried explaining that we still had plenty left to see and that we had just gotten there but he was adamant he wanted t leave. He changed his tune when we rounded the corner and walked right into the play structure. Fuck. Of course, now he wanted to go play…

I took Nathan to see a few more of the enclosures but as one can’t control the behaviour of animals, getting them out and visible isn’t exactly a possibility. But we did get to see two grizzly bears frolicking in the water, which was entertaining. We made our way back to the vehicle when we realized we had two hungry, cranky boys on our hands. We made our way back onto the highway for Regina, after handing everyone their respective sandwiches and snacks for lunch.

All in all, it was a good trip and a great experience for the family. Considering they could have gotten fresh air and played at a park at home, I probably could have done without using a full tank of gas and paying money just to have them to do it inside a zoo but at least they got to see some animals. The experience was there, and that’s a what mattered. Naps and a cool basement were certainly enjoyed, after a long day out in the sun. ☯️

Full Circle…

Alright so, as if it wasn’t bad enough that I only seem to be posting once a week in recent months, I’m going to use a post today to brag about something I’ve purchased. I know, I know, that’s not very Buddhist-like but what can I say; I am a product of my Western environment. Maybe there’s more work to be done in that area and may be this is the wake-up call I need in order to do it. For today, I’m simply going to enjoy the ride (you’ll see why that’s funny in a minute).

All the way back in 1995, I saved up all my money as well as some inheritance I had gotten from family, and purchased my first vehicle. My choices were few and far between, considering the amount of cash I had available, and I was adamant on purchasing that vehicle on my own. It didn’t prevent the fact that as a minor, my parents would still need to register the vehicle in their name. But the honour of paying for the vehicle itself was still mine and mine alone.

My parents were totally on board with me purchasing a vehicle for myself. Besides the fact that I had reached an age where I would be able to drive myself to school and start looking for more work, it also allowed for me to run errands for my parents when needed, which freed them up for their own work, as well. All Lin all, it would serve the entire family, which made it a smart choice and a good resource for the entire family. Still with me? Good. Moving on.

After a few weeks of searching, I finally found a used vehicle I could afford with my humble savings. And that vehicle was a 1983 Toyota Tercel hatchback. This bad boy was red, two-door and had an after-market tape deck with an amplifier and after-market speakers installed in the hatchback. They had turned the tires outwards so that the white stripe was showing, giving the car a sharp, racing look. It was also a piece of shit. There were rust stains, the seal around the windshield was curling up and the upholstery smelled like the previous owner must have owned a dog.

I gave up my savings to purchase the vehicle and had my father drive it home, since it was a manual transmission and I didn’t know how to operate a manual transmission. Once we had it home, I tore into that bad boy with the kind of fervour I reserved only for karate classes. I scrubbed and shampooed the interior until it glistened. I washed and polished the outside until I could see my face in it. I polished that red turd until even the most discerning of critics couldn’t dispute that it was hell on wheels. A veritable carriage for my shenanigans. The transport towards my future.

I absolutely loved that car and went everywhere with it. It had a very weak engine with a 3-gear manual transmission. That didn’t stop me from ripping all over town like a maniac. It only had a driver’s side mirror, which apparently wasn’t illegal at the time the car was sold. I also had to learn how to drive a manual transmission from scratch. I’m surprised I didn’t blow the transmission out of that bastard in the first week. But I learned. And I drove.

That car served me extremely well for several years, including getting me to college and back home for two years. I remember one year, the heater gave out and the windshield would frost on the inside, forcing my passengers and I to scrape the inside of the windshield every few minutes. It was a brutal act and it met a brutal end. One day while trying to overtake a vehicle on the highway, I blew out the engine. That’s what I get for red-lining the RPM’s on a dinky 4-cylinder engine. But I digress.

Over the years, I’ve held fond memories of that car. It was the first vehicle I ever owned. The first vehicle I went on a road trip on my own with, the first vehicle I travelled out of town, out of Province and out of control. It’s carried friends, family, loved ones and more burger wrappers and empty coffee cups than I can count. It brings up an important point regarding perspective. By my own standards today, I would never purchase such a dilapidated, trusted vehicle with unreliable parts and a danger to my family and I. But back then, that piece of shit was like a Rolls Royce to me…

That brings us to the here and now. As I’ve grown into adulthood, owning a vehicle has become more of a household necessity and convenience than the liberating tool of freedom it was considered in my teens and twenties. Throughout the majority of our relationship, my wife and I have pretty much always owned two vehicles. This has made it easy to have one of us at work and the other still capable of running errands and doing their own thing. However, once the COVID-19 pandemic kicked in and I found myself sitting at home for a significant period of time, paying for two vehicles seemed redundant, so I sold my car.

The new mirth mobile

However, recent events have prompted us to once again purchase a second, smaller vehicle for me to use to get to work and run errands (“recent events” meaning I backed our SUV and smashed out one of the mirrors). I purchased the used vehicle you see above. It’s clean, in perfect working condition and is new-to-me. Limited mileage and a smooth ride, it sits a bit lower to the ground and has some significant peppiness for a vehicle so easy on fuel. It’s bee great.

The irony is that my first car was a Toyota hatchback. And although it took effectively twenty five years, I appear to have come full circle with yet another Toyota hatchback. Some people need their muscle cars or sports cars, motorbikes or leisure vehicle. Me, I just need something easy on gas that lets me hug the road. The household is now adjusting to the fact that even if I’m work, my wife can still run errands, attend appointments and bring the boys on outings. Things have changed since I was a younger man. A car is no longer a luxury, it’s a necessity. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a bit of nostalgia in the process. Food for thought… ☯️

Out Of The Pond And Into The Ocean, Toronto Odyssey Day 2

My evening was spent walking the streets of downtown Toronto, as I tried to find something I could use as fast-acting carbs, should I experience a low. Almost every street was lines with restaurants of every ethnicity, with the occasional smattering of a Subway or Denny’s buried in the middle. I eventually found a Circle K, which is the equivalent of a convenience store, where I overpaid for a bag of sour patch kids, a couple of energy drinks and som Slim Jim’s.

As I walked, i started to feel overwhelmed at the size, congestion and scope of the buildings around me and the population of people. Considering making my way through crowds in Regina tends to trigger PTSD symptoms, this was significantly difficult. Regina has a population of roughly 250,000 people. Toronto sits at just under 6.4 million. But I did manage to locate my venue for today’s activities and the short walk it would require. I ended my evening by grabbing a quick beer at my hotels lounge, which cost me about as much as three beers would have, in Saskatchewan. Welcome to the big city!

The meetings of the day went as well as one could expect, with my attempt at maintaining my level of consciousness by consuming copious amounts of caffeine. What do you expect from someone with diagnosed ADHD and a propensity for getting bored? The day ends out with me heading to my room and switching out my CGM sensor before it could expire. Then, I ventured out to my nearest shoppers drug mart, which was over a kilometre away.

I sweat up a storm, so I grabbed a shower before installing the new CGM sensor. Lo and behold, the battery in my pump was dying. I could have grabbed some while I was out. Instead, I had to ventured out again to grab some AA batteries. Once I had them, I was able to replenish my pump before heading back to the RCMI for supper with my brother and sister regulators.

It was an excellent meal of stories, shared stories and networking. It was nice to speak to some like minded people and and have a meal among peers. It was my first realization that this trip was worth my time. I walked back to my hotel room feeling satisfied. There are lessons to learn but I’m too exhausted to acknowledge them. Tomorrow is another day and I need to be fresh. ☯️

The Return Of The Mack…

Wow, okay… So I made it all of a little over two weeks without logging back in and checking on my blog. A shameful display of weakness, for someone who recently posted that they were stepping away from blogging and even closed down their facebook page. But in recent weeks, I’ve continued to get frequent notifications, not only of posts being read and liked but a strange things has been happening; my followership has been increasing.

Like many bloggers that I, myself, have followed, I recently made the decision to step away from writing. Back in January of this year, I took a step back as I had achieved my goal of writing 1,000 posts in a row, without missing a day. It was a reasonable achievement for myself but it left me wondering what was next, from a writing perspective. I decided I would continue to share what I knew, but on an ad hoc basis, as opposed to daily.

But one day, I sat in front of the keyboard and not only could I not come up with something pertinent to write about, the frequent and constant interruptions that prevented me from posting caused a knee-jerk reaction on my part that led to my stepping away. Given my usual compulsions, I had to jump on to check stats and I had been receiving all of these notifications. So, here I am and here we sit, once again pounding the keys in an effort to touch the world.

I guess my blog will stick around for at least a while. What the hell, right? I closed down the facebook page and I think it’ll stay closed, since the majority of my Facebook friends never bothered to follow it (even though I requested) and it wasn’t getting the traction I would have anticipated. In the interim, it will be good to see what ideas I can come up with, though the summer. Maybe I won’t have to regurgitate all my old posts. Time will tell… ☯️