The air by the river can be cold…

Today, I took my bike out for a little ride. The weather was moody. There was a fog that had settled in places, and threatened to spread everywhere like a big soggy blanket, but it kept to the lower stretches of the riverside pathways.

The air was cool. In fact, it was kind of humid and somewhat pleasant in some parts of the ride, but as I turned on the trail beside the river, a chill fell over me and instantly the air was at least a few degrees cooler. I looked out over the very calm water and there were remnants of ice flow coming down the river. It was moving swiftly, but looked quite calm.

The river is swollen too. All that snow melt off has added to the volume, and the river threatens to overtake the bike trail that runs along side. In some places the river has inundated the areas and I rode by some places that were partially covered by water.

The patches of fog were interesting. As the afternoon gave way to early evening, the fog had a mysterious, even suspicious aura about it. Riding into it was somewhat fun but it was easy to imagine some movie-set style thriller plot twist, but alas, it was just my imagination.

I didn’t wear gloves. I should have. The air on my hands was cold. Not painfully so, but enough to have changed my mind after I left the apartment. I took one of the gravel trails along side the river. It’s a little too early yet with a mix of mud and a lot of the trail still covered in snow.

My friend was with me (I should have mentioned that). She was riding ‘up town girl,’ my bike I bought back in 1992. As we mounted a hill on a diversion away from the river, she fell behind some what. I waited for her. She seemed to be struggling a bit with the gears. After she caught up, we played tag in who was going first. She’s blonde, petit, fun. Cute body. We laugh a lot. We stopped at the lights. I noticed a young man looking out the window of the car he was in looking at my friend. He was eyeing her lovely figure, for quite a while, and as the car took off he seemed to be stuck on looking. Can’t blame him.

We stopped at my Francophone friends house. I called him before we arrived. We spoke, in French. I asked if he was in. Yes he said (in French). “C’est la petite maison a droite.”  He invited us in. Such a wonderful gentle man. We got the tour of his house. He has many cacti plants. Not my thing by nice for him. His house was a little cluttered, a little lived in. He has a bookshelf that his father made him, and many titles in French. He has a beautiful wood stove, finished in a kind of cream porcelain. Perhaps the most handsome wood stove I have ever laid eyes on.

As we returned to my apartment, the weather had turned a little, and a light rain fell. The water was cool, but not punishingly so. It was a nice afternoon out, all told.

Namaste. 🙂 Gros calins, tout le monde.

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Disclaimer. Not my bike 😉 

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On Being Human

Hi Bloggers,

Things have been going pretty good for me lately. Work is great, the weather is changing from snowy and icy to hints of spring time. My kids are talking to me, the ex is doing ok, and I seem to have found my feet, sort of…

So, what’s the fuss? Hard for me to say really, exactly, mostly because what I write is essentially public, and as such it can have an impact on those in my life, many of whom I care about very much.

So, therefore, its difficult to get into specifics. Nevertheless, I’ve never been one to bullshit in large volumes – I tend to keep it real for most part.

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So, here goes. Recently, I finished a relationship, a fairly serious one. One in which, upon reflection, we both felt stifled, overwhelmed, sometimes confused, often frustrated, and all of that. She is very intelligent, and complex, and so am I. When I got out of that, it was like a weight off the shoulders. I moved on.  Awesome, right? Ok. Good so far.

So I’ve been challenged. It seems she’s not ready to let go, and I’m not sure I am either. I want to be friends for sure, I really like her. I want to be kind and considerate, and honest about how I feel. I was really straight up with her – I can’t do this anymore. It’s not for me. I don’t think you’re right one, that kind of thing. It was brutal. Kind, but brutal, if you can imagine such a scenario.

We get a long SO well. Take away all the bullshit (life) and voila. Damn. Its just really simple. But that was not the experience in the relationship, because shit was real. 

She’s pulling me. I’m trying to be a straight arrow. Thinking about my situation. Having trouble defining the very nature and boundaries of our ‘new relationship’ – post serious relationship. Trying to be considerate of my new situation. She pulls, then pushes. Gives me a morality lecture, in small doses. Tells me she understands, then lets me know how crushed she is/was.

Then she pulls again. Teasing. Tempting. Tells me its all good. She wants it.

Then a push. No. It’s not right. Tells me how she thinks this is the stuff I enjoy doing, playing the field or whatever.

Leaves a guy confused, that’s for sure. But then she is too….

We were in the same relationship, right? I was so disappointed in her, so frustrated. It was grinding me down. Wearing me out. I have to remind myself of that.

But then, we get along so well. She’s a real sweetheart. A kind soul. Deep. Empathetic.

Do I want to play house with her? No. Do I want to be the stand up stepdad? No. Do I want to be confused, jealous, frustrated, disappointed? No.

It makes me think about the construct of morality. It’s a construct because it is based on the structure of relationship, and law, and possession, and expectation. Nothing wrong with those things, but I’m not looking to be the ‘husband/partner/father of the year.’ I sunk that fucking boat long ago!

So where does that leave me? Playing out the same destructive patterns of my past? Setting myself up, and some around me for disappointment, heartbreak, or something else?

But then I think, ‘fuck it,’ life’s too short. I did all that serious shit, and honestly, I didn’t feel any better for it! So I guess I will continue to live my life, in the best way that I can, trying not to upset the apple cart, while enjoying the finer things, as much as that is practical and possible…

And that’s the point. If I’m human, and she’s human, then how can any of our thoughts and actions be wrong? This stuff, has been happening by design for millennia. It’s not an excuse for bad behaviour, it doesn’t dismiss the value of morals, but it does allow us to consider that maybe, just maybe, life isn’t about neat little boxes and square pegs in square holes?

Namaste.

Assez Dommage – Enough Sadness

I saw her today. She passed by me. I was talking to another. “Allo” I said. “Allo” she said in return. I’ve been feeling bad, perhaps a bit guilty about moving on. She is holding on to what we had, I guess I am too but I’m trying to just focus on moving forward.

Assez dommage. C’est trop. C’etait difficile pour moi aussi. 

She’s not happy with me. I understand. She feels like I dropped her cold. But, I tried to talk to her. I tried to help her help herself. I tried to help her be a better person. Not that she isn’t great, she just isn’t the one for me.

Chaque nuit je suis alle a chez elle. J’ai presque habite a sa maison.

I thought and thought and thought. It came down to the three things. The three things that I figured were most important for me. Here is what is important to me 1, 2, 3 – but I didn’t lay it out exactly like that. I was really clear, and it took shape over several conversations. There was actually three main priorities in my life that I’m not sure she truly shared, then there was one other major relationship factor that I struggled with…. Actually two if you count the actual situation that we had…

Finalement, j’ai trouve elle n’est pas sur la meme page. 

But who am I to ask her, to challenge her, to coach her along in life? It’s not my job. I gave up. That’s essentially what happened. I got kind of disappointed. ‘Can’t you just accept me for what I am?’ she asked….

‘Well, no. Actually’, I thought.   Mais, non, j’ai pense. 

But that’s the terrible irony right? I’m moving on because I am frustrated, confused, disappointed, yet she’s telling me to just accept etc. She wasn’t prepared to meet me in the middle on several key things. Then she gets upset?

Well now she’s mad. She’s hurt. She wants to be angry at me and spray me with words, but it’s not her style. It’s not my style either. I could be angry, resentful, disappointed that she didn’t meet my ideals of what a good partner is…..

I just want to move on. I want her to be good, and I need to be good too. Assez dommage.

Into Quebec – A Photo Essay

Hi Bloggers,

This past week I took a quick trip into Quebec. If you haven’t been there before, its very french. There are no signs in English. There’s no apologies for that! I think it’s great.

It’s the biggest french speaking landmass anywhere. When you think Quebec, think maple syrup sugar shacks, sleds that get pulled around on snow, poutine, very old architecture, and freezing winter weather.

Good news is that my french is improving, I could hold conversations with les Quebecois without too much difficulty.

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An ice bridge over a frozen lake. 

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Vielle Quebec – old Quebec City – fortified wall. 

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Elle a Reviens (She came back) – a short essay. Francais avec transduction a Anglais. French with English translation.

Ciel ensoleille. C’est le meteo pour aujourd’hui. Bon!

Elle a reviens hier soir. Avant ca, elle m’envoye une message par cellulaire. Elle m’dit elle a mon cle pour mon auto. <<Ok, j’ai dit>>, entre. A la fois je portais une serviet. J’ai ouvrir la porte. Dohors c’etait froid. Nous avons return a ma chambre. Elle pris un siege sur mon lit. J’ai repose sous le couverture. Elle m’dit <<c’est pas correct pour moi a te voir nu>>. Nous avons des regles depuis nous finnisons.

Nous avons eu une petitImage result for ciel ensoleillee conversation, en francais, naturellement.

Apres peu, j’ai s’habille. C’est pas excite. J’ai n’est pas allume, passe que nous avons eu bats une peu, mais c’etait pas violent (nous avons eu d’accord pas, c’est tout). C’etait le plus gentile finis de une relation, jamais.

Nous sommes alles a la cuisine. On parle pour trent minute. J’ai elle demande, <<veut tu alle pour un beverage or quelque chose?>> Elle a pense pour quelque seconds. <<peut etre>> dit elle. Apres une peu encore, elle part. Nous avons eu un gros calin. Nous tiens l’en et autre. A la fois, nous connaison ce sera correct. J’ai presque elle demande <<veut tu repose ici ce soir?>>, mais j’ai arrete moi meme.
Apres vingt minute, mon cellulaire fait le bruit <<bing>>. Elle m’envoie une autre message. Elle est <<horny>>. Ok. Pas surpris, oui? C’est normal.
Moi aussi, je suis un homme. Just un homme. Elle finit elle-meme. J’ai fais le meme chose moi meme.

Bon fin de semaine, tout le monde.

English translation:

Sunny skies, that’s the weather for today! Good!

She’s came back last night. Before that, she sends me a message by cell. She tells me she has my key for my car. Ok, I said. Enter. At the same time I am wearing a towel. I opened the door. It was cold outside. We returned to my room. She took a seat on my bed. I rest under the blanket. She tells me, “It’s not ok for me to see you naked.” We have rules since we finished.

We had a little conversation in french, naturally.

After a while, I got dressed. It’s not exciting. I did not get turned on, we fought just a bit, but it was not violent (we did not agree, that’s all). It was the nicest end of a relationship, ever.

We went to the kitchen. We speak for thirty minutes. I’m asking, “Do you want to go for a beverage or something?” She thought for some seconds. “maybe,” she says. After a little more, she leaves. We had a big hug. We hold each other. At this time, we know it will be ok. I almost ask “do you want to rest here tonight?”, But I stopped myself.
After twenty minutes, my cell phone makes the noise “bing”. She sends me another message. She is “horny”. Ok. Not surprised, yes? It’s normal.
I too am a man. Just a man. She finishes herself. I did the same thing myself.

Good weekend, everyone.

 

The Power of Choice – Exercise it!

Hi Bloggers,

Well I’ve got quite the story to tell. Recently, I exercised the power of choice. A fellow blogger friend recommended to me the concept of ‘if its not fuck yes its no’. Quite a powerful statement/philosophy, but at the time, I had a lot of things on my mind – trying to work out where I was going and what decision should I make?

So I’ll get to the point. I recently finished a relationship. A serious one. One in which I was very invested, as she was. Perhaps there were expectations (I try to avoid this but reality is that we all develop expectations over the course of any relationship).

Things weren’t working out fantastic. I was often, I dunno, frustrated, disappointed, confused.

She’s a lovely lady. Mature, educated, intelligent. But, something wasn’t jiving. The energy level wasn’t right. I thought, and thought and thought.

It took a while to put my finger on it. After much anguish, pain, consideration, I was able to condense it into what was at the core of the issue for me. I realised that there are three things that were top priority, top of my personal wants/needs pyramid that this lady just wasn’t tuned into. I talked, I asked, I tried to coach, to assist, to be flexible, to allow things to develop, including my willingness to accommodate her differences…See the source image

After several months of churning over this situation, and at least 4 serious conversations in which I expressed my feelings, she wasn’t ready to make the appropriate accommodations for me, so I called it. We’re not right for each other.

So there’s some pain. Some regret perhaps. A little bit of resentment, some confusion….

But predominantly, I feel free. I feel so fucking free its like a weight off my shoulders. That allowed me to reach out to my ex wife, and let her know that I was alright and I really need to be friends. Real, genuine friends who care about eachother. Kinda weird how that one tied in to it. Part of me felt somewhat guilty that I had moved on and developed this other relationship, even though we’ve been separated for more than 18 months.

What’s the effect of all that? Man, I feel high on life. I’m hanging with my friends, and meeting new people, and talking to ladies, and really just feeling good. Perhaps the best I’ve felt in more than 2 years.

So if you are in a spot, think carefully, talk to your friends. Sometimes, a bold choice, a tough decision has to be made, and sometimes, its just what we need!

Namaste my friends.

The Voice of an Angel

I went around to a guy’s house tonight for a jam. It was actually a friend of mine (we’ll call him E) – mutual with house owner, who invited me around. I didn’t know the house owner so it was a little odd but cool.See the source image

E is one of the friendliest funniest guys ive met in a long time. American transplant to Canada, with refreshingly liberal views of the world. He reminds me of a big kid in a mans body. Not that that’s a bad thing, he’s just having fun, at 45 years old. It’s a great kinda reminder, that, really, this is the point to life!

As I pulled up to the driveway, there was a lady who was getting out of her car. ‘Oh hi, I’m K’ she said. I introduced myself, and we headed inside, with guitars and bags and shit over our shoulders.

Inside, a few guys were picking away and singing badly, and my buddy was jamming away on keys. All cool. It was fun. Everyone soloing over eachothers shit. Ok, that’s normal, whatever.

So then K steps up and pulls the microphone over. She has dark hair and wears glasses. She stands to sing. After strumming a few chords she lets it out….

Fuck. (that was my thoughts, not what she sang!)

I was transported. Even with all the bullshit guitar riffs and out of key bum solo notes, her voice shone through. It. was. Quality.

I’m not bullshitting you readers, she could have been on the radio. She tells me that she’s done some open mic’s and other stuff. So we each took turns, the 5 or 6 of us to butcher various songs and have a bunch of fun… but her voice left a mark.

I went out side to put my things in the car. She was still warming the car up. I thought, fuck it, maybe this is what I’ve been sort of waiting for here? But first, a disclaimer. This is not a romantic interest. No. A musical one, yes. I could tell she is on a way different level than the wonderful bozos that filled the living room in that house.

I went to the side of the car. She tried to roll the window down, but it was frozen. I went over to the drivers side. Not sure exactly what I said. I said a lot of things really but the thing that I do know I said was ‘I want to make music with you. wow. Seriously’.

So who knows? I gave her my FB info, and let’s see?

The Therapeutic Effects of Beer and Weed

Hi Bloggers, disclaimer. I do not support the regular use of recreational drugs. They can be damaging, especially to a young mind.

However, I’ve taken the odd toke. And yeh, I inhaled!

And coughed, and smoked too much in my younger days and had a lot of really fun and weird experiences. But that was back then….

So the previous occasion for me, was about 5 years ago. I was hanging with a friend and a joint came out. Ok, I thought, why not? It was chill. I giggled a bit. When I left that place to return home, I kinda bounced down the street, feeling high as a kite. Probably laughing to myself most of the way! ok, cool.

So recently, in Oh-Canada, the stuff is legal. Anyone can buy and consume it. Yay!

Ok, so with friends, I had been at the pub. After a few beers, I was feeling a little sudsy, that’s for sure. I got invited over to a friends house, and out comes this big bong. It’s pretty mild, he says. Ok, so why-the-fuck-not? Right?

I toke back, I coughed a bit. Nice feeling a little lighter. He told me before it was more of a body stone. I agreed. I felt it in my body. In a kind of nice way, like becoming more hyper aware of body parts but in a nice way. It was just – chill…

So, yesterday afternoon – snow day, the place is frikkin jammed with snow everyfuckingwhere… so I didn’t go to work.

Phone goes off, text from friend ‘hey so and so is having some ppl over for drinks, come over’. So I asked my Mexican flat mate if he wants to head, and off we go.

A couple of drinks in, and out comes this peace pipe. ‘It’s pretty mild, this stuff’ says our host. Ok, why the fuck not? Right?

Have a toke. Ok, cool, have another, pass it on. Cool.

Maybe 10 minutes later my other buddy says ‘how fuckin stoned are you?’ I was feeling a bit giddy for sure. We were laughing. Other buddy said it was mild, but first buddy was saying ‘that’s not fucking mild, I’m wasted, lol’.Image result for laughing gif

So that’s when the laughing fit started for me. Imagine about 6 people in a living room. A couple of Americans, a Canadian, us Aussie Canadians, two dogs, and just a whole lot of stoned bullshit being talked! I fucking laughed.

I had to leave the room. This was ridiculous! I spent a SOLID TWENTY minutes laughing to myself in the boot room at the back. Every time I tried to return to the living room I could hear everyone talking shit and I just restarted my laughing fit.

So, what did I get out of that? Sometimes, you just need a little circuit breaker. I take everything so seriously – my life, my relationships, my work, etc. Sometimes, its ok to just have a beer or three and have a toke and laugh your arse off!

Cheers, and Namaste!

Sunday Musings, and Other Random Bullshit

Hi Bloggers, it’s almost mid February. I turned 44 this week, quite a milestone, eh? The winter here in eastern Canada is dragging on, but the days are getting longer, and soon enough the spring will be upon us.

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This morning, a beautiful bright sun greeted me. I rose early enough, and drove to my gym for a morning work out. I thought about having a swim, but decided that I was good with just the workout, so I said ‘fuck it’. It’s nice to do that sometimes ;).

Friday – the day of my birthday, a friend had offered to cook me dinner. Based on some missed communication and a longer than expected work day, when I arrived at the house, she had left to drop off her daughter somewhere. That would have been ok, except that I would have preferred to stop at my place to get a change of clothes as it was more or less on the way from my long drive home from work. So I drove the extra 15 minutes to return to my place to get changed… where I promptly had a nap, for a couple of hours. I woke to receiving several texts. Not happy ones…

My activities were not appreciated. Yes. I completely shit-the-bed. Not literally, but figuratively. I should add that there was some correspondence during the day and I mentioned that i wanted to stop at my place, and she insisted that i should come right over after work, and I expected her to leave at 8 pm (as she earlier said she would), and I was there at 7.10pm, so I did not expect to miss her….

She was quite upset that she had prepared an evening, and I just dropped the ball. I felt like a proper turd. She messaged me with a bunch of wtf’s etc, and I didn’t have much to add, other than, ‘I’m sorry’.

So, here I am, on my birthday, with a pissed off friend, and all of that, lying in my apartment bed, alone.

Something’s not right.

So I got up, and went over. When I arrived, she wasn’t at the house. Ok, what’s this about? I thought maybe she went out, maybe she was mad. I messaged her. She had gone to pick up her daughter, from the event that she dropped her off at earlier. ok. I waited.

I walked up and down the street a few times. It offered me time for reflection. The cold wind was blowing, I was dressed adequately, but still, the cold air permeated my pants and got in around under my jacket. The road was icy and slippery, so I had to really watch my footing as I negotiated my foot falls on the road.

The stars were bright in the sky. The clouds moved overhead with astonishing speed. There was such clarity. Not only in the sky, but in my mind. I could clearly see the big dipper, and the little dipper, and Orion. I mused that its amazing that I am here, in Eastern Canada, at the opposite end of the earth from where I came. As a side note, in the southern hemisphere you can see Orion, and you get to see the southern cross, whereas there, you can’t see the big or little dipper.

It was a sort of clarity, at least. The kind of momentary clarity that allowed me to see, and feel, and be, and just be ok. Despite the upset of the evening, I was still just ok, with being where I was at that moment.

My friend got home. As she left the car in the drive way, we didn’t say a word. I went into her room, put my things down, and didn’t say a word. We didn’t talk, didn’t touch, nothing. It was a kind of a tense stand off meets passive acceptance….

In the morning, her hand reached out. We held hands. At some point maybe we hugged, but that was it. No big romantic gestures, no intimate passion, we just started to talk. She said ‘let it go.’

Pretty good advice, I’d say!

My Tele – One guy’s love affair.

She/he waits for me. It has been too long. Way too long. We were the best of friends. I could take it out and play with it any time. I would practice for hours. We made beautiful noises, sometimes awful noises. It was a solid friendship of wood and steel and metal meshed with art and love and wonderful caress and power and obnoxiousness and sweet melody. tele

I would strap this thing on, like a musical erection…. I would strut, and buck, and work it like a crazy mother fucker. I would bend and crouch and ram it at who the fuck I liked. Because that was me. Just me. Tight jeans, fitted shirt. Attitude. Rebellious. Sexy. Dangerous.

Sing. I would sing. Get your mouth on the mic. Press your lips against the warm metal of a Shure SM58. A smell of smoky cigarettes, alcohol, saliva. Someone else’s saliva. Where had this microphone been? It felt, just a little bit, wrong.

All eyes on me. I owned the fucking room. Yes, but sometimes I ate humble pie too. Fuck up with this thing and you could crawl under a rock. Some of my best moments for sure, and some of my most vulnerable. Plug in, turn up the volume. That dirty hum of an idle pick up. Turn a little and the feedback hum grows. Pick and strum. Overdrive. Omg, overdrive. The stuff of rock and roll.

The bass and drums groove and the venue’s sound system pumps this shit out at plus fort volume. You can do so much with just a guitar, bass and drums. It is the essence of rock and roll. Add some keys and voila. Fuck yeah! She/he is a demanding instrument. Get it right, and you’re a rock star. Fuck it up, and you look like an amateur, all in the space of a heart beat.

Better practice, hard son.

I got her/him out the other day. Caress the curves. A half committed polish of in discriminant parts. Smell, feel, taste. Remember.

I will be back for you, and I know you still love me. Not like that human love that gets all kind of fucked up but a real kinda there-when-you’re-ready love, like a willing musical whore.