LoveUbecause … you want to serve with honour!

I remember quite clearly sitting at the table of my future mother-in-law’s kitchen close to 30 years ago. We didn’t know each other that well. Actually I don’t believe I was engaged to her daughter at the time, so perhaps it is remarkable that she didn’t discourage my future wife  from ever seeing me again - at least based on my silly sense of humour. I don’t  recall if we were both sipping morning tea, or perhaps she was busying herself about the kitchen as she was wont to do, but whatever the activity, she was trying to make polite conversation.

“So what do you think you will do when you are finished school ?”  “D” asked quite innocently.

“I want to be King!” I declared confidently, thinking myself very funny with a twist on a reference to a Monty Python movie. It all had to do with King Arthur, Camelot and such, and a character trying to convince his father that he really doesn’t want to be king, but would rather sing. Being a music student, I amused myself,  but “D” having no clue what I was on about,  paused, looked at me a bit quizzically and moved on to some potentially less troubling line of questioning.

In any event, with an aversion to developing carpal tunnel syndrome from all that waving, the weighty decisions on who to  toss into  the Tower of London, or more likely, the fact I don’t possess a single gene remotely linked to nobility,  I don’t think being King was ever really in the cards … nor in all seriousness would I want it to be!

Leadership is complicated and can be very stressful. I know so, because since I grew up – at least I would like to think so anyway -  I have been there. Some years ago, as a leader of a community organization, I quickly learnt that getting anything significant accomplished at the political level often involves jumping through a variety of hoops, including playing politics, making compromises and concessions while remaining steadfast about not betraying your own principles, rallying community and political support and most of all, never straying from the belief that what you were trying to accomplish was important and right  - even when there were some dead set against your goals.  It “ain’t easy” as they say.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I can be a little cynical at times, especially when it comes to politicians and politics. With all the election coverage, both Canadian and American, over the last couple of years, the back pedalling on commitments and promises when convenient, the “what I really meant to says”, the “yes, he may have supported me, but I really don’t know him that wells”  and variety of sex and corruption scandals being given way too much time on television news channels, who wouldn’t be! We have been inundated with it, particularly on “slow news days”. At times I feel like I am in Punxsutawney in Bill Murray’s movie, Ground Hog Day – it just repeats over and over and over again!

But for all those who see me as cynical, I do want to tell you, I did learn something very important through my own leadership experience. I take very much to heart and keep very much on the forefront of thought when trying to wade through all the political polls, statistics, scandals and assorted  associated nonsense, that there are some very good politicians out there! I know some, met some, and got to work with some who refreshingly, and simply, just  really care about their community. They worked hard to support me and the cause of those who worked with me. Some had the moral fortitude to change their minds in favour of what we were trying to accomplish, sometimes even at the cost of losing future votes, when we convinced them what we were  proposing was right for the community.

We, as a society, seem to have a great propensity to dwell on the negative when  it comes to politicians. We surely look forward to the next corruption scandal, as  judging from the number of times a news clip of an accused scurrying like a scared rabbit from the pursuing press is played over and over on the news channels that rely on our viewership to survive, we must enjoy the chase - even before he has had his “day in court”.

We “tut-tut” and simultaneously relish the salacious details of a wayward politician’s sexual malfeasance. - applaud a tumble from grace  with the enthusiasm reserved for rumours of a Hollywood starlet “forgetting”  to wear panties and later figuratively, and thankfully not literally,  falling off the wagon.

More commonly we are assailed with the views of the disingenuous  yammering on negatively about solid, thoughtful proposals of others for their own political gain, or in pursuit of the rise of  their own star on the chart of radical, political punditry.

There is certainly nothing wrong with political debate, but so often it seems to be more about the sound bites and “sounding off” than the substance, the negativity over the genuine concern. Frankly, as a format , I think it is getting stale and am not sure why there is such an appetite for it. I am sure a lot of politicians would agree with me.

I can very well imagine any politician and especially the new President, waking up on some mornings to come and possibly regretting their aspiration to be, “king”, president, governor, city councillor, or what have you.

By all accounts, throughout the world, there is a new enthusiasm for the political leadership in the US. There is a remarkable chance for everyone to embrace the coming years with a new optimism and hope, even in dark economic times. We probably have unrealistic expectations, but let’s not hammer them with negativity for the sake of being “political”,  even as the reality sets in and once again we realise that the vision of  Camelot is closer to a fairy tale then history – it doesn’t mean that the world cannot be a better place!

Fewer step into the political arena than should for good reason. Even though, as the public, we constantly complain about “overpaid” politicians – yep, there are some – mostly they work ridiculously long hours, put up with a plethora of constituents who would try the patience of Mother Theresa and many  are derided for another’s political gain when, truly, they believe they have the good of their communities at heart.

There is nothing wrong with trying to keep politicians honest about their commitments, or offering up a constructive critique on performance, but they are people and guess what,  they really do have a right to change their minds - just like you and me - and not to be taken to task for realising that they were wrong before – isn’t that a quality that should be applauded and not discouraged?

There are some simple truths. There will always be politics in politics. There will, unfortunately, always be some bad, corrupt and dishonest politicians and those who make decisions based purely on their prospects for advancement, or re-election, but on balance, the good politicians will far outnumber the bad, particularly if we encourage them to serve,  instead of giving them every reason not to at every turn …

but mostly, LoveUbecause …   there are still many,  who want to serve with honour, are qualified to serve and have the energy to serve, and at times, as witnessed by the estimated 1.8 million people who attended  Barack Obama’s inauguration in Washington, that can be nothing short of awe inspiring!

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in Politics, Uncategorized
Tags: Barack, honor, honour, inspiration, love, Obama, politicians, Politics, president, public service, service

LoveUbecause … you’ve been dog gone away!

Anyone who knows me, knows that animals play a big role in my life - cats, dogs, horses in particular. If you have been following the blog, you may have had a chance to read LoveUbecause … you’re from a picture in a magazine! and “met” Harley, my only once dreamt about Irish Wolfhound - BTW Happy Belated Birthday, Harl! (he turned 2, just yesterday).

So not to feel left out and over shadowed by his giant friend, I thought I would post a piece I wrote a couple of years ago about Bentley, our Australian Shepherd (with a mention of “the Spin”, their other “beaglish” friend). 

“Hello – You’ve Been Dog-Gone Away! ” was first published in “Dogs In Canada” in 2006 and subsequently in the United States by the “Aussie Times” 2007. I hope you enjoy my musings! 

Hello – You’ve Been Dog-Gone Away!

It strikes me just about every time I drive up my laneway.  There are just some things that I probably never would have had the privilege to enjoy, had I remained living within the confines of the city. In these troubled times when one of the few constants seems to be bad news in the newspaper, it is truly comforting to know that come rain, or shine, sleet or snow, when I arrive home I will be greeted with unwavering, unbridled joy - and no, I don’t mean by my wife and kids – though bless them, I know they love me – they are only human.

Given that I have never owned say, a pet llama, I guess I can’t undeniably say there is no other creature that

 exhibits quite the same enthusiasm. But I do have eight cats and three horses and even knowing they all have a great affinity for me, there are times when their egos definitely get in the way. On a bad day, with a quick turn and a flick of a tail, my arrival can definitely be dismissed by one and all as purely coincidental to their presence. But to see so much energy bottled up so tight, trying its best to escape with undulating glee from such a small being, just can’t be taken for granted. Imagine a furry, calico body bouncing with delight, a wet tongue flicking across your face and a rubbery, black, snorting nose bopping you on the chin and I think you get the picture – my dog, Bentley, gets very excited when I get home!

Found as a squirming ball of fur at a horse auction, we wondered for some time if his squished little visage would amount to anything but a rounded fluff ball adorned with a wet, black nose. Genetics soon kicked in and we have discussed on several occasions whether Bentley is perhaps, in a round about way, actually related to Pinocchio! He definitely sports a snout not to be scoffed at.

An Australian Shepherd - a breed which strangely enough doesn’t even originate in Australia  - “the Bent”, as he is known, has never even seen a sheep. But that doesn’t stop him trying to herd just about anything in sight either - just ask those eight cats who have been systematically encouraged into one corner of our outdoor deck on a summer’s day. Curling his body towards me, with a nubby excuse for a tail furiously wagging, he tries to instinctively push me this way, or that.  I have never quite figured out why he picks one direction or the other, sometimes changing his mind in “mid-herd” and I am not sure that he has either – it is just something he feels compelled to do!

We have all heard the clichés – “a dog is a man’s best friend – but this goes way beyond. Unconditional love just doesn’t readily describe it. Perhaps a little over the top, this perpetual happiness at seeing me should not be confused with not knowing any better. Though other reoccurring visitors sometimes get similar treatment, even if they haven’t crossed our threshold for several months, others, the fellow from the courier company in particular, are definitely “persona non grata”. A canine of discerning taste – that’s the Bent.

Always shadowed at “hello time” by his stalwart, elderly, pal Spinner,  who’s own display of affection has been somewhat tempered by age and the fact that wedging his pudgy “Beaglish” frame between me and bouncing Bentley, is all but impossible,  the Bent just wouldn’t do well anywhere else. This boisterous enthusiasm would just be a little too much for a dog bottled up in the confines of a city home.

Barring that on a rare occasion, he is busy sitting at the base of a tree barking at a raccoon that has sought temporary refuge from this self-appointed shepherd, as they certainly don’t like to be herded, I can pretty much guarantee that whether I have been gone an hour, a day or a month, the Bent will be ready to rush, vibrating from the forest, porch or front door and let me know that in these troubled times it is just plain good to be home. What more can a fellow ask for?

Sharing the love from a well licked dog owner …

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in Country Living, Dogs, Pets, Uncategorized
Tags: Country Living, Dogs, life, lifestyles, love, Pets

LoveUbecause … you are “life”- a circuitous route!

“circuitous [sir-kew-it-uss]

Well it is Friday evening and another week has passed. I guess, as many, it has had its ups and downs, but for the most part, it has been pretty good. This week I have been going through a lot of material that I have written in the past, searching for pieces I think appropriate  and hopefully worthwhile for visitors to LoveUbecause.com .

I came across the following, which I wrote on the occasion of my 50th birthday ( not so long ago ). I guess I wanted to put down in writing a few of the things I learnt in my first half century on this earth. Maybe not that original to some, but nonetheless important to me.

I know I emailed this out to some of my family and friends at the time, if for no other reason than the recognition that they had actually been a part of teaching me something. To be honest, I had forgotten I had written this, so if nothing else it is a reminder to me of what I have learnt and something, hopefully worthwhile, for others to think about. So here goes … “my words of wisdom” …

” Life should be a circuitous route – to be cliché, because life can often be just that, “it is about the journey, not the destination” and “the road less travelled.” (Robert Frost) It is about being a student and a teacher and learning as much from your students when you are the teacher as you hope they will learn from you. It is about loving and giving and hoping for a little love and respect in return when the time is right. It is about realizing how imperfect you are, striving to change, forgive and forget the imperfections of others. It is about realizing how much you know and sharing that knowledge with others. It is about realizing how very little you know and always wanting to learn more. It is about wives, children, family, friends and pets and animals that offer unconditional love for little in return but just that - love, respect and consideration. Life is about memories and earning them - sometimes unexpectedly. It is about going out of our way without always knowing the rewards, about welcoming the unexpected and learning from it when it is indeed just that - unexpected. Life on balance should hopefully be good, but we unfortunately do have to accept the good with the bad, the ugly, frustration and disappointment – without the total package we would never learn to grow and never have truly loved or lived. Life is certainly about money, power, position and material things – that is reality - but ultimately, hopefully we learn how little we need of any of it to be happy. Life is about a lot of other very important things that I have missed, but it is also about not philosophizing too much and getting on with it. Just please remember …

Life should be a circuitous route – if we lived it from beginning to end as directly, efficiently and cost effectively as possible, it would indeed be very short!” (© 2007 Andrew Neil Olscher)  - with a nod to Freud, because appartently he had something to say about this too!  Though I am not sure it was quite so “uplifting”!  I’ll let you look that one up on your own time.  (A.O.)

Here’s hoping your weekend meanders a “circuitous route”!

Sending a little love you way …

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in About Love and Life, Uncategorized
Tags: family, friends, life, love, philosophy

LoveUbecause … you were my first real bicycle!

Bygone Biking Times … 

It is not that uncommon for me to come across seriously minded cyclists while driving the back roads out here in the country. They travel singularly, in pairs and less often in large packs. I am more than a little awe-struck by the gleaming, silver bicycle frames, perhaps drawn from some complex alloy of metals once reserved for the space program. There are a seemingly, infinite number of different coloured, aerodynamically, streamlined shapes for helmets - the sometimes bug-like impression, enhanced by intense silver, black or gold reflective eyewear. Variations of cleated shoes, the similar next-of-kin once only seen on the football field, are in abundance. Spandex and Lycra stretched perilously tight over bulging thighs and buttocks, sometimes due to too much exercise and alas, sometimes due to not enough.  The number of gears, sprockets, well lubricated chains and possible permutations and combinations of this complex equipment - I couldn’t even hazard a guess! Arguably this is just an impression, not a judgment, but the thing is, as an onlooker, a non-enthusiast, I just can’t help but think these futuristic road warriors look a little out of sync with the natural surroundings. More importantly, for the most part, the impression is one of being a bit driven.  I am not actually convinced that they are enjoying the journey. It is the destination that counts and just how fast one can arrive. I just can’t help but think back to simpler times when cycling was just that - simple.

I remember as a young boy straddling my bright orange Super Cycle and pedaling about the neighbourhood on hot summer’s days.  I liked to think of myself as a bit of a maverick as other children scooted here and there on more traditional coloured bikes - generally red, racing green or perhaps even midnight blue. But it was a time before there was much disposable this and disposable that – it was a time when there was less of a need for Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, because in great measure many people did it anyway – they could not afford to do otherwise. So, in tune with the times, I purchased secondhand, what I considered my “metal steed”, on which I would ultimately endlessly charge about the neighbourhood, from a friend of my best friend’s brother.

I paid the handsome sum of ten dollars which had been painstakingly accumulated from allowances, birthday and Christmas gifts. To me, the freedom was well worth every hard earned penny. I went to view the bike, which originally was fire engine red and leant rather forlornly with a punctured tire against the wall of the seller’s dimly lit, front porch. It didn’t look like much, but it was affordable and I had imagination – a new version would definitely cost three, four or more times the amount. I was assured it was in good working condition and that the tire would be repaired. I excitedly made the deal on the spot.

The repair was delayed a few days due to an emergency in the seller’s family, so with heightened anticipation I arrived to pick up the bicycle.

I remember, quite cautiously making the journey, only a few blocks, home. I dutifully stopped at every stop sign, hand signaled every turn, whether there were other vehicles there to see me or not – a habit which for the most part I still maintain. But it was the travel between those stops and turns that quickly changed into sheer joy. The wind blowing through my hair, the warmth of the sun on my face, my pale, spindly, little legs strengthening as having only one gear – “go” –  they were challenged by hills, the ups and downs to the shopping centre, the long trips I made with my best friend clear across the city and back.

We explored back streets, bought candy at newly discovered corner stores, ventured upon and intimately became familiar with the twisting trails of a huge city bush lot that was known only to the local boys as “the swamp”. Daredevils - we mastered “sweet jumps” that would have put Napoleon Dynamite to shame and escaped “swamp bullies” who sometimes ferociously chased us when we unsuspectingly encroached on “their” territory. It was never about the destination - always the journey – the adventure.

They were carefree spring, summer and fall days when video games, DVDs, personal computers, Lycra, helmets and deraillers either hadn’t been invented, or were still unfamiliar to most. We were the knights of our neighbourhood, madly pedaling by the lurking dragons – loose dogs that roamed menacingly about, sometimes in small packs, waiting to chase a boy on his bike. We dismantled, lubricated, patched and repaired and when the failing red paint became too unsightly, I boldly spray painted my frame bright orange!

It all went on for several years. But as is the nature of childhood, time and life, things changed. Coming home from school one day, I discovered a visiting aunt and uncle had left me a bulging envelop generously stuffed with cash for a new bicycle. A brand new, metallic, blue, ten speed racer was purchased.  My orange road companion was eventually left to deteriorate and rust at the side of the garage, but the spirit was never lost. So still today – yes, I wear a helmet – but it is the feel of the wind and sun on my face that makes my ride – the smell of cut grass, fields of daisies and the occasional fox peering cautiously from the forest. The Spandex – sorry, I shall have to leave that to the road warriors!
Anticipating the coming spring and summer seasons …

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in Cycling, Sports, Uncategorized
Tags: bicycle, bike, childhood, stories, youth

LoveUbecause … your comments inspire!

In my initial post to LoveUbecause.com I wrote that I would be writing new posts based on comments left by readers. Inspiration can be a complicated and sometimes elusive thing, but after reading both the posted comments and personal emails I have received so far in response to my writings, I can say that the elusive quality of inspiration has been well surpassed by a plethora.

It is not so much the subject matter that is pushing me towards new posts, but the interesting and unexpected things I am learning about my friends, relatives and acquaintances, as, to date, that is who has been leaving comments. Having been in the room when others have been reading the new comments, I have witnessed readers being touched by your thoughts, some broad smiles and “hey, I didn’t know that!”

I guess it is a bit like sowing a wild flower garden of mixed seeds. You throw the seeds to the wind and, if you are lucky, the colour, variety and expanse of the blooms is more breathtaking than you had ever imagined. Similarly the width and breadth of your comments are more than I ever expected!

“R”, I would never have imaged that you love me because I am “complicated, but in a great way” - I think I like that!

Richard, I had not idea that you entertained at hospitals and nursing homes – but I somehow can’t imagine you being “untalented” at anything!

Jenny, your comment about Mike thoughtfully giving you the stuffed dragon he won at Wonderland not only shows the generosity at the heart of Mike’s nature, but celebrates your sensitivity for remembering so many years later – and I like that too!

Hilary, you are so talented in so many ways. I never imagined you being nervous about performing, but kudos for doing so anyway, as the rewards reaped from your performances by your audiences are obviously incalculable.

And Marilyn, though we don’t really know each other that well, your comments gave me insight into what a wonderful, generous and devoted  person you must be. Simply amazing!

For all those who have read the posts and commented, I think it is marvellous to get to know each a little better. I know of course that over time there will be comments posted by those I don’t personally know, but hopefully they too will direct their friends and loved ones to their comments to equally and mutually enrich their lives.

So with that said, please visit and comment often, as it never hurts to offer a little love!

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in About Love and Life, Uncategorized
Tags: life, lifestyles, love, philosophy

LoveUbecause … you’re from a picture in a magazine!

Dreams - I remember exactly when I decided I wanted an Irish wolfhound. I came across a photo in a magazine, in my pre-teens, which depicted a tweed-jacketed man, strolling down a country lane. Surrounded by a canopy of leaves, emblazoned with autumn colour, smoke swirled gently from his pipe and a gray, Irish wolfhound placidly, and with elegance only reserved for such a beast, ambled leisurely at his side.

Maybe he was writer, an artist, or a well-to-do country gentleman?  I just knew I wanted to be like him and most of all longed for that majestic dog. Far from the tumultuous news headlines that I avidly consumed daily, as a self-assessed “news junkie” – long before CNN and anyone ever realized there was such a thing – the curiosity I had for the war that dragged on in Vietnam, the rekindling of the conflict in Ireland and the upset of the social order and norm in North America in the late 1960’s, was only surpassed by perhaps the want to really hear none of it. Not really  odd to be appealing to a child, was that notion of being relaxed and separated from the turmoil of the world, secure to meander the course of life’s winding road with the dream of the companionship of a loyal and noble, canine friend at his side.

And so it was that life’s road was traveled. The pipe, long since abandoned, came easily. In a throw back to decades past, it became briefly popular with young men at university who thought that sucking on a sculpted piece of briar made them appear intellectual. The tweed jacket – perhaps remembered by my collegiate, poker playing friends who dubbed me “Mr. Tweed “ for the brown, Italian, sports coat, bequeathed to me by an uncle and which, they thought, seemed to gain me favour with Lady Luck, when the pot got large in the final hand of the night.

I became an artist and a writer.  After thirty years, Lady Luck really struck, as I found myself living in the country with my family, two loyal dogs and my own winding road. I had, on occasion, made mention of the giant wolfhound that I had dreamt of being blessed with, but had never really thought would have. Yet I was wrong, as shortly before my 50th birthday I arrived home to discover my two, beaming, teenaged children, excitedly trying to contain a bouncing, brindle gray, wolfhound puppy. 

With the noble name of Harcourt, affectionately known as Harley, the ten week old, 35lb puppy has transformed into an impressive example of his kin. He has as many gaits as my horses, with a variety of walks, trots, canters and gallops and spurts of seemingly boundless energy that just as quickly develop into a satisfied slumber - often poised, bear rug-like, with front paws spread out and chin, fully resting, out-stretched on the cool tile floor.

Now at about 35 inches at the withers and 175lb, Harley all but dwarfs me (the man in the picture was taller!). On a walk about he is known to many by name and usually commands an audience of the curious and doting admirers - some who occasionally have a tear in their eye, as they have been fortunate enough to have had the companionship of an Irish wolfhound in the past and are reminded of their greatly missed canine friend.

Originally bred for hunting wolves and warfare, at one time, wolfhounds were only allowed to be owned by kings and poets. One such nobleman had an “entourage” of some 300 hounds – enough to discourage any enemy! Though they command a presence like no other, they are remarkable for their good nature, gentleness and patience. Their loyalty, athletic ability and even impressive victories in grueling, Arctic sled dog races have been documented.

But it is Harley’s ability to instinctively surprise that impresses me most. Walking a trail after a heavy, summer downpour a few months back, he stopped and quizzically, cocked his head, gently nuzzling at the ground as if to summon me. I bent down to find a large dragonfly trapped in the long grass. I first thought

it was dead, but after parting the grass it crawled onto my finger. Harley stood by my side, looking on at first with concern, as the creature furiously beat its wings, redistributing the rain drops that had prevented flight, then in an instance, departed in a magical moment that seemed to satisfy Harley as he then trotted off in search of the next curiosity.

The coincidence?  Our country refuge – named by us – “Odonata Woods”, as Odonata is from the Greek for dragonfly and the plethora of dragonflies that dot our sky each summer, controlling the less wanted insect pests and gracing our garden flowers and grasses with their delicate, variety and colour.  They are indeed magical and mystical creatures, as is their new self-appointed guardian, Harley, all only once dreamt about from a picture in a magazine.

… sending a little love to creatures GREAT and small,

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in Dogs, Pets, Uncategorized
Tags: country, Dogs, dreams, Irish, Irish Wolfhound, life, living, love, Pets, wishes

LoveUbecause … it snowed?

I was thinking, - probably because I have been driving through, shovelling or ploughing unusual amounts of it lately - a lot about snow. It’s funny how sometimes when you just randomly think about something with little reason than for the fact that it there, how in the end, if you are inquisitive, you end up finding out things  you took as truths were actually myths and sometimes, the other way around.

It came about recently for me when I sent an email out to a few family members, friends and acquaintances about the launch of www.LoveUbecause.com .

It was really quite a simple message.  The topic, “My new blog”  Actually it went like this …

“Hi one and all,

I just started this new blog ( http://www.LoveUbecause.com ) that I hope you will like.

Anyway … hopefully it will provide a platform for some positive messages and a bit of inspiration for the New Year! And happy New Year to all by the way!

If you like what you see and want to share it with your friends, please do so - it would be very much appreciated!

I am just getting started, but I hope you like what you read and feel compelled to comment and contribute – please, don’t forget to “Write on the Wall”, it will be your contributions that make this blog really unique!

Cheers for 2009! “

Ok – clear, precise and to the point I thought, but then I read it over … and over … as I tend to do all my emails. I guess, being a writer, I am finicky that I get across what I mean and rarely fire off comments to someone,  as many “emailers” are wont to do, and then regret they clicked on the “Send” button.

I looked at the message and then at the recipients several times, back and forth, and gave several thoughtful sighs for my own dramatic effect, as I  then quickly withdrew my cursor from anywhere close to the “Send” button. A bit sadly, I thought, this email needs some clarification!

On the recipient list were my son’s girlfriend, some of both my son’s and daughter’s  old school friends, a couple of business colleagues, as well as some new musical acquaintances.  Now just as I am bound by my “writerly habits” to read everything very carefully before putting anything out there for anyone to read, I am equally careful about reading things others send me to make sure I really understand what is being said. But I also know that other people do not subscribe to similar reading habits – especially when it comes to email! There are “scanners” in the electronic pool of readership, and justly so, with the amount of email we all receive that ends up to be anything but intelligent, or useful intrusions into our electronic lives.

 “Scanners” quickly peruse their email and, at least in my mind, because my own reading habits are so different,  perhaps end up taking things that have been written to them out of context as a result. So the last thing I wanted was for my son’s girlfriend, who really doesn’t know me that well yet, one of my daughter’s young, female friends, or yet one of my new musical acquaintances opening up an email from me, scanning my message, reading “loveUbecause” and thinking – for even a moment – that I am trying to be “fresh”, inappropriately forward, or “untoward”!

So, I added the following in parentheses after the first sentence, “for my acquaintances - please don’t be mislead by the title, I’m not trying to send you an inappropriate “love message here” , though I hope you visit and tell everyone about the people and things you love”.

I hit “Send” and to my knowledge, with the exception of one  of my son’s female friends who checked with him before clicking on the link to the blog, to make sure it was really me who had sent her the email, I believe the recipients took the email in the context and spirit it was intended, without question. I hope so anyway!

Well what does that have to do with snow, you are probably asking? It was on a three and half hour drive between the city where my son, “M”, lives and my home in the country that I was thinking that the term  “love” really means so many different things.  Perhaps I was over reacting when I felt compelled to make the qualification in my email, so to avert any misunderstanding?  In a bit of a random association, the snow, in so many forms around me –  the snow banks, slippery on the roadside, flaky on the trees, glistening in the fields - reminded me that the ubiquitous “they” say that the Eskimos (in some circles and circumstances, some prefer to say “Inuit”)  have over 100 words for snow.

Now no need to send me an email on that one “C” - “C” is my friend of over 40 years who has expertise on the ways and truths of the north -  I shall clarify that one later. It is the sentiment of that myth that I somehow associated with love – if there are, or at least thought to be, so many ways to describe one thing, then why can’t we conversely accept that one word can describe so many things without immediately, possibly creating a misunderstanding. If we all just said “I love you” more often and then offered an explanation later, or maybe not at all, wouldn’t the world have to be a better place? Why are so many people just so afraid to say it with, or without qualification?

The truth is I do love “K”, “M”’s girlfriend, even if I don’t know her that well yet.  Amongst other things she unselfishly tended to ‘M” when he was ill, she exudes a zeal for life, that few can compete with and that seems to rub off on everyone she meets. And perhaps most important, she obviously makes “M” very happy. I love “N”, my daughter’s, “R””s, boyfriend, because he watches over her, keeps her safe and brings smiles to her face. I love “M”’s and “R”’s old school friends because they are friends to my children. They created many happy memories and laughter in our home by coming often to Sunday family dinners, sharing the ups and downs of their everyday lives and giving us the privilege of watching them grow into great young people. The least I can say is “I love them” for that! And the list goes on …

So here is the truth, as I see it:

There really aren’t fundamentally 100 or more Inuit words for snow – ’cause I checked!  Like I said, sometimes you find out truths when you are not quite expecting it. Here are some links on that one (it is kind of complicated);

http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/000405.html

http://www.princeton.edu/~browning/snow.html

http://itsmypulp.wordpress.com/2007/01/03/inuit-words-for-snow/

There are unlimited meaning of the word “love” - at least in my heart anyway;

We need to say “I love you”, or “LoveUbecause” more often, without worrying about it so much!

“Write it on the Wall!”

With some love to all,

 

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in About Love and Life, Uncategorized
Tags: life, lifestyles, love, philosophy

LoveUbecause … you shared your music!

LoveUbecause … you shared your music!

Not wanting to be cliché, but there’s nothing like walking in another man’s shoes to get the full appreciation of an extraordinary situation and create empathy from what may have been felt as sympathy, or perhaps even indifference in the past.

I am a musician - going on 40 years now - jazz, classical, country, folk – and I have to tell you, I have been fortunate to perform in dozens, if not hundreds of “concerts” over the years. I put “concerts” in quotations because to me, though I have been blessed through serendipity, if not arguably ability, to perform in a few world class concert halls, a “concert” can take place just about anywhere there is a listener to appreciate your performance. Whether it be strumming a guitar around a camp fire, playing Christmas carols with a brass quintet in a nursing home, or conducting a Beethoven piano concert in a church where the beauty of the stained glass is only surpassed by the beauty of string players who play in tune and French horns producing notes soaring, seemingly, to the heavens above, the “concert” is by nature as much about the listener as it is about the performer - though as a performer I have sometimes actually, perhaps selfishly, forgotten that.

You see, I tend to be a bad spectator. Though having admittedly witnessed some spellbinding performances over the years, I yearn to be on the stage as opposed to sitting in the front row. I much prefer to be the artist in the gallery, as opposed to the visitor to the exhibition. Though perhaps detrimental to my well being, my preference is to be the player on the ice or field, even though that might have involved getting my nose ground into the dirt, or being bounced unceremoniously off the boards, while in younger years, playing rugby or hockey, because for the most part, I unfortunately don’t “do” sports as well as I would like - though not for a lack of trying!

So that gets me to the point – my epiphany for the day, I guess you may say. Christmas this year has not been as expected. Unfortunately my son has not been well and I spent much of the past twelve days at his side in hospital. In one sense, I tried to forget Christmas. “It can be any day,” I said to my wife, “we can wait till February, or March, as far as I am concerned. My first priority and only concern is that “M” gets better,” I insisted.

It is not that I don’t like Christmas, appreciate the spirit or couldn’t care. It was more that my first reaction as a parent was the want to see my child well and focus all my positive energy on that. But then it occurred to me just how “dumb” that was. How can you, however well intentioned, expect another to lay in bed over Christmas “just getting better”? Wouldn’t the lack of Christmas cheer make the road to recovery just a little bit longer? “Doh!”

So, on Christmas Eve I purchased a collection of Christmas decorations from a local shop and back I went to the hospital to see my son. Though well beyond still believing that Santa, St. Nick, Father Christmas, or whatever you want to call the old fella is a reality in anything but our imaginations, – you see “M” is 20 – from his smile I may as well have been the jolly old guy himself. Ok the Christmas tree was only cardboard, but taped to the wall, standing almost five feet tall, augmented with a large assortment of colourful Santa, reindeer and little Christmas tree cut outs, a velvet stocking and a string of gold metallic snowflakes pinned to the curtain that separated him from the three other patients in his room, there was indeed an air of festivity created.

But it was the distant sound of voices singing Christmas carols that really made the day and became a most welcome accompaniment to a visit from “M”’s Granny and Grandpa and a festive prelude to the visits from his gift laden aunt, uncle and cousin that followed later in the evening. Eventually the faint melodies became a full chorus of 20 or so voices gathered in the hallway outside “M”’s room. There were smiling faces, some of the carollers waved, as smiling, they stood by the doorway. But most of all it was the music that really touched me and “M”. To be the recipients of this Christmas gift of music, - strangers in need - so generously voiced by so many people, who gave up so much of their Christmas Eve, when they could have just as easily been home with their families, was something I will never forget. It made for an enchanted, truly special evening in a sterile hospital environment, forgotten, however momentarily with Christmas decorations and music. But perhaps just as importantly, it gave me a much better appreciation and renewed good feeling about concerts I have participated in over the years. It never really struck me just how important my music might have been to others and how it might have touched them for a variety of reasons. Not that I haven’t received their compliments graciously, but it is all too easy to lose the appreciation yourself for what you do – let the gift you have been given become mundane, at least in your own mind - and perhaps selfishly think more about your own performance instead of your audience. Not that the two are unrelated, but really, which is more important?

So, LoveUbecause … you shared your music and made me aware of what that really means at a time when another human being is feeling low. And, perhaps just as importantly, inspiring me to get out again and give back what you offered, with a better understanding of what that can mean to another!

With love and a better understanding of the world around me,

“A” the “O” in LVE!

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Posted in Christmas, Holiday and Seasonal, Music, Uncategorized
Tags: Christmas, holiday, life, lifestyles, love, Music, philosophy, seasonal, sharing