I hear alot of garbage being spewed about the Canadian health care system by politicians in the States. I've been using this system for four years now and I can assure you, it's pretty fantastic. It's not the only option. You can have alternative coverages still, but every single Canadian citizen (and many who aren't citizens) can walk into a hospital at any time and receive treatment without pulling out their wallet. Does it have its down side? Of course it does. What system doesn't?
But don't take my word for it. In a national poll done by the Canadian Broadcasting Company, Canadians voted for the man who created their health care system as the Greatest Canadian of all Time.
Don't listen to those ideologues who are trying to use Canadians to back their opposition to health care reform. Canadians have an awesome health care system that the people generally love.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Reaffirming my faith in humanity...
THis past weekend I lost my keys on the way home from work. It was no fun, as I have a couple of Army souveneirs on my keyring that I was very sad to lose. Not to mention the hassle of getting new keys made. So I put up flyers near where I thought I lost them but got no response. Then yesterday I went to Jiu Jitsu and found that someone had turned in my keys there! I had a gym tag on my keys to scan at the gym and someone saw that and took my keys to the gym! What a fantastic end to my day.
Thank you to whoever found those keys and turned them in. You are a saint amongst lesser men.
Thank you to whoever found those keys and turned them in. You are a saint amongst lesser men.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Sunday Morning musings...
Good morning everyone. So it’s Sunday… my only weekend day. I decided this morning to treat myself to breakfast at a little diner down off Main Street that Katy and I like to go to on Sundays. It’s called Nice Café but it’s not as nice without her. I am looking forward to a nice cheap breakfast and no dishes. Once I’m done here, it’s back to the casa to clean for a few hours before I go hike up Grouse Mountain with my friend John. Ought to be fun, except I hurt my ribs in Jiu Jitsu last week and I’m hoping they don’t bother me halfway up. Probably won’t, but I do so hate rib injuries. (Update: ribs hurt too bad… need time to heal. Took a raincheck on Grouse for next weekend) Rib injuries can be the most minor thing, but it’s a persistent discomfort that flairs up at the slightest prompting… coughing, turning, breathing. Anyway, so here I sit drinking café coffee waiting for my greasy spoon breakfast and I thought it a good opportunity to write.
But now I find myself without much to say. I’ve had a lot of issues with that for awhile. You may have noticed the sharp decline in the frequency of my posts over the past 6 months that coincided with my desperate search for real work. A lot of that was because I got too depressed and much of what I had to say was whiny and depressing. Not only did I reach a point where I didn’t want to pass that along, but articulating my problems into words often made the depression worse. What I’ve found on the other side of that trauma, though, is that I am still reluctant to write most of the time. I’m not sure what, in particular, made it happen, but I’ve lost my voice since leaving school. A lot of things have played into my silence. Leaving school and joining the “real world” did nothing short of crush my soul. Losing my job was the twisting foot that insured my last ember was put out. Unsuccessfully looking for good work for 6 months all the while being tossed around between jerks and douchebags and breaking my back at anywhere up to 4 jobs at once was the rain that soaked my ashes just to make sure they wouldn’t relight. And all the while I was force-fed the harsh realization that no matter how smart I am, no matter what I know, no matter what I understand, what I love, what I desire or what I think is right, the world is the way it is and doesn’t give a damn about me. That hurt. It was especially hard because I’ve lived in such seclusion for the better part of 7 years. Not only was I sheltered from the world by the academic shield, but I was sheltered from society at large by my own hermitage. I guess I got to a point where I turned around and looked behind me and was forced to ask, “what is different for all my thrashing about?”
I’m still in limbo on that one. I don’t regret my viewpoints but sometimes I regret my audacity. I don’t believe it was ever a mistake to stand up for my beliefs, but I wonder sometimes if it was a mistake to stand on others’ fingers… with cleats. I’m in a difficult transition between youth and whatever it is that’s after youth. I’m more patient now. I’m wiser now. I am more tolerant now. I’m also exiting my angry phase… that’s what I call it, anyway. I’ve been so angry at everything for the past 7 years. I think it started with all the angst the Army programs you with. It makes you a good soldier. I forget sometimes that I’m a trained killer. (Do you?) I think it got worse from there with my parents’ divorce. That’s enough to make anyone angry. Then I got into school and began a shocking education process where many things I took for granted were harshly disproven. My whole world was turned on its head. Everything I believed in was shown to be only one of many ways, only one point of view… or even outright false. I think that did it for me. So angry. I can still feel the heat from that anger sometimes when I think about it. It smoldered inside me and often when I opened my mouth it came out as a plume of fire.
So now I sit here as a man who’s forced to confront his own passions and his own past. I’m forced to reconcile my beliefs with my actions. Do I still feel the same? On most thing, sure. But I’ve gained a new respect for the concept of perspective. Was our country run by a government that resorted to criminal tactics to achieve personal gain against the will of its people? Yes. Was it the first time? No. Will it be the last? Again, no. So was some of my more rigorous thrashing necessary? Probably not. One instance I can’t get out of my head involved a person who sent me an alarmist video about Obama’s race and religion as disqualifying factors for his presidency. I think I must have been having an especially bad day, because I fired back a reply that I knew within an hour or two was a mistake. I essentially accused them of being a bigot in words I should never have used. I apologized and it was let go, but it’s never left my mind. I think I have never been so utterly ashamed of myself. In fact, I think that was the moment when I stopped trying. That was the moment when I realized that nothing I think, nothing I have to say, or nothing I believe in is worth making someone else feel like something the cat drug in.
If you’re reading this and know who you are, I’m still overwhelmingly sorry for how that may have affected you and those around you. I’m sorry for the words I chose and for the tone in which I chose to convey them. I hope that moment is not etched in your mind the way it is in mine. Know that, at least, I learned a valuable lesson in temperance, deference and respect from that.
So I’m left wondering what I have to say… what I have to contribute. I think of many things to write, but usually come back to refute my own words before I have the chance to write them, or they become lost in a sea of relevancy. All things are relative to your position, right? Almost makes argument a moot point. How frustrating is that? (very)
Well, my fantastic breakfast has come and gone, as has my third cup of coffee. I’m off to the house to clean now and do something productive with my Sunday before starting my six-day week again. Hope you are all well and enjoying people around you, wherever you may be. Have a great week, everyone.
But now I find myself without much to say. I’ve had a lot of issues with that for awhile. You may have noticed the sharp decline in the frequency of my posts over the past 6 months that coincided with my desperate search for real work. A lot of that was because I got too depressed and much of what I had to say was whiny and depressing. Not only did I reach a point where I didn’t want to pass that along, but articulating my problems into words often made the depression worse. What I’ve found on the other side of that trauma, though, is that I am still reluctant to write most of the time. I’m not sure what, in particular, made it happen, but I’ve lost my voice since leaving school. A lot of things have played into my silence. Leaving school and joining the “real world” did nothing short of crush my soul. Losing my job was the twisting foot that insured my last ember was put out. Unsuccessfully looking for good work for 6 months all the while being tossed around between jerks and douchebags and breaking my back at anywhere up to 4 jobs at once was the rain that soaked my ashes just to make sure they wouldn’t relight. And all the while I was force-fed the harsh realization that no matter how smart I am, no matter what I know, no matter what I understand, what I love, what I desire or what I think is right, the world is the way it is and doesn’t give a damn about me. That hurt. It was especially hard because I’ve lived in such seclusion for the better part of 7 years. Not only was I sheltered from the world by the academic shield, but I was sheltered from society at large by my own hermitage. I guess I got to a point where I turned around and looked behind me and was forced to ask, “what is different for all my thrashing about?”
I’m still in limbo on that one. I don’t regret my viewpoints but sometimes I regret my audacity. I don’t believe it was ever a mistake to stand up for my beliefs, but I wonder sometimes if it was a mistake to stand on others’ fingers… with cleats. I’m in a difficult transition between youth and whatever it is that’s after youth. I’m more patient now. I’m wiser now. I am more tolerant now. I’m also exiting my angry phase… that’s what I call it, anyway. I’ve been so angry at everything for the past 7 years. I think it started with all the angst the Army programs you with. It makes you a good soldier. I forget sometimes that I’m a trained killer. (Do you?) I think it got worse from there with my parents’ divorce. That’s enough to make anyone angry. Then I got into school and began a shocking education process where many things I took for granted were harshly disproven. My whole world was turned on its head. Everything I believed in was shown to be only one of many ways, only one point of view… or even outright false. I think that did it for me. So angry. I can still feel the heat from that anger sometimes when I think about it. It smoldered inside me and often when I opened my mouth it came out as a plume of fire.
So now I sit here as a man who’s forced to confront his own passions and his own past. I’m forced to reconcile my beliefs with my actions. Do I still feel the same? On most thing, sure. But I’ve gained a new respect for the concept of perspective. Was our country run by a government that resorted to criminal tactics to achieve personal gain against the will of its people? Yes. Was it the first time? No. Will it be the last? Again, no. So was some of my more rigorous thrashing necessary? Probably not. One instance I can’t get out of my head involved a person who sent me an alarmist video about Obama’s race and religion as disqualifying factors for his presidency. I think I must have been having an especially bad day, because I fired back a reply that I knew within an hour or two was a mistake. I essentially accused them of being a bigot in words I should never have used. I apologized and it was let go, but it’s never left my mind. I think I have never been so utterly ashamed of myself. In fact, I think that was the moment when I stopped trying. That was the moment when I realized that nothing I think, nothing I have to say, or nothing I believe in is worth making someone else feel like something the cat drug in.
If you’re reading this and know who you are, I’m still overwhelmingly sorry for how that may have affected you and those around you. I’m sorry for the words I chose and for the tone in which I chose to convey them. I hope that moment is not etched in your mind the way it is in mine. Know that, at least, I learned a valuable lesson in temperance, deference and respect from that.
So I’m left wondering what I have to say… what I have to contribute. I think of many things to write, but usually come back to refute my own words before I have the chance to write them, or they become lost in a sea of relevancy. All things are relative to your position, right? Almost makes argument a moot point. How frustrating is that? (very)
Well, my fantastic breakfast has come and gone, as has my third cup of coffee. I’m off to the house to clean now and do something productive with my Sunday before starting my six-day week again. Hope you are all well and enjoying people around you, wherever you may be. Have a great week, everyone.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
confession is good for the soul...
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Ah the comforts of music...
I've discovered two fantastic musicians in the past two days and I thought I'd share. One, many of you will be familiar with and the other I would be surprised if any of you had come across. I went for a walk tonight and learned to play Bad Leroy Brown. I love it. Alright... now for you, videos. For me, dinner.
Thanks to LODGIcare2500 and HakanEhn for vids.
Thanks to LODGIcare2500 and HakanEhn for vids.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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