It's Cold, It's Snowing, It's All Good!

It would appear that I’m now in my “back in the day” years.  Today’s inner chuckle comes from the news reports talking about -10C and 15 cm of snow as the end of the earth as we know it.  I really don’t see what all the fuss is about…we are in Canada.

As a kid growing up in Haliburton we could not wait for the freeze up and the first snow.  It was not a problem but an opportunity! Clearly it was a different time.  In today’s age of helicopter parents, would kids and teenagers have the freedom I experienced? I don’t know…

As a kid I remember hanging out with my partner in crime. The beginning of winter meant brand new adventures.  I used to live in “long johns” from mid-October to April, today I can’t even find them in the stores for my son. Dressed warmly we could not wait to be outside in the cold. Long johns, balaclavas, boots with felt liners, and skidoo mitts and we were set. 

Some things are better learned from experience than in a class room.  For example I have never forgotten that propane stops flowing at -50C. We learned this while winter camping and our propane heater stopped working as the temperature plunged beyond that magic number.  I also learned the value of good sleeping bags, and one piece snowmobile suits…no drafts!

Every few years we were lucky enough to have a quick freeze and no snow for a few days.  This is every Hospital’s Emergency Room nightmare…and every boy’s dream.  There truly is nothing like skating on a freshly frozen lake with a few square miles of open ice to roam on.  This of course was pending parental supervision, or more accurately lack thereof, and silly things like checking the thickness of the ice!  We’ll talk about one of our other favourite youth past times of “pond cracking” another time…

In the early parts of winter and the first snow, we had to rely on our own power; Dad wasn’t getting the snowmobiles out for only a few inches of snow.  So back to basics and the hardwood toboggans, waxed with cross country ski wax to maximize speed, we set of for the biggest hills we could find.  They don’t call it the Haliburton Highlands for nothing…no shortage of excellent neck breaking hills for youngsters to tackle.  For a hill to be worthy of our attention there had to be certain element of danger… a small cliff to jump off midway down the hill, always good, lots of big trees to have to dodge on hairpin turns…even better. A lake at the bottom…now we’re talking.  We never broke any bones, but I do remember a few bruised tailbones after some hard landings.  Not to mention, moderately frozen toes, fingers, cheeks and ears.

Once the snow was more substantial and winter was firmly in place we graduated to snowmobiling escapades.  Back in the day…this preceded the 150 horse powered rockets of today, we had the 18 horsepower Ski-doos, Scorpions, Moto-Skis, and Evinrudes.  They required some skill to ride and to get running in the first place…frozen carburetors’, missing rewinds; broken bogie springs were common and mere minor inconveniences.  Thank god for a Dad that was a mechanic with extraordinary skills to repair, and improve on, almost anything mechanical….just in time for the weekend.   His patience in coming to rescue us when we were bogged down in some 3 meter deep snow drift somewhere was also astounding.  

My buddy and I were nothing if not consistent and generally used the same philosophy of “taking it up a notch” in all our outdoor activities. If snowmobiling was good and skiing was good, than combining both with a water ski rope must be double the fun right?  We never had much in the way of money, but we were never lacking in things to do.  Perhaps hind sight is sugar coating things, but I don’t remember being bored often, I also remember being very sad when winter was drawing to close.

So have things changed? Well my 5 year old couldn’t wait to go outside today and play in the snow.  He was digging caves and got very upset when I said the snow might melt this week. He only likes tobogganing on the steep fast hills, He’s been skating since he was 4 and wants to know how to go faster and if we can skate on lakes.  And despite being outside for hours in the cold and covered in snow from head to toe, he was not ready to come in for lunch. So I suspect I’m in for some trouble in the years ahead…

Memories of Rye Bread, Salami and St. Nicholas Day.

Perhaps no other time of year reminds me more of my upbringing than Christmas.   As a kid of German immigrants growing up in rural Ontario meant often feeling “different”.  My home town was pretty “white bread” and I was the kid with a rye bread and salami sandwich in my lunch box and a piece of cake that nobody had seen before… not to mention the impossible to pronounce names of said cakes.   My parents had the heavy foreign accents and had the odd hard to pronounce names. There was some taunting at times, some odd looks, but for the most part we were welcomed and accepted as neighbours.   I was also grateful for parents that also embraced “Canadian” ways of doing things and genuinely tried to allow me to be like my friends as much as possible…even if it meant a peanut butter sandwich on Wonder bread in my lunch…after protesting the rye bread.  Levis jeans, Kodiak boots, and Roots earth shoes were readily available in my closet.  But some things were non-negotiable.  My Dad wore Birkenstocks long before it was fashionable for men to wear sandals. We celebrated Christmas on the 24^th, not the 25^th, we didn’t have stockings by the fireplace, and we had homemade pizza at midnight, no Turkey dinners. And on December 6, St. Nicholas paid a visit to our house but NOT to any of my schoolmate’s homes.  

 But all that was many years ago, and Canada seems to be much more multi-cultural now than in the 1970’s with diversity a more accepted reality.  Now as a parent, married to someone who’s family has been here for many generations, it’s kind of up to me to carry forward some of the cultural traditions of my youth and my family’s history.  I have never lived as a hyphenated Canadian nor do I want my son to take on that identity, but I do want him to be proud of his roots and enjoy some of the traditions.  As my parents get older and with virtually no other living connections in the “old country” it’s now in my court to try to maintain some traditions and history.

Perhaps the other lesson for my son and I, is the reminder that it’s okay to be different, and bring something unique to the table.  The catalyst for this blog was the passing of St. Nicholas Day just a short while ago. Truth be known, I remembered it at the last possible moment and my 5 year old son was  a little baffled by my sudden suggestion that he polish his boots.  But he diligently obliged his dad, and we had a brief discussion of what St Nicholas day was all about.  The conversation was brief mainly because my memory of what it was about had faded…or maybe I never really knew? But today I renew a commitment to relearn about my roots, and share that richness with my son.

Much of the German heritage I grew up with has been fading as I get older.  We are a Canadian household. But I hang onto a few quirks of the immigrant experience, the feather pillows, down duvets, and regular trips to the “German Store” for some rich rye breads, coffee, smoked meats, marzipan and dark chocolate.  The young lad embraces some of it…he’s not keen on the rye bread…yet.  Maybe I’ll send him to school this week with a rye bread and salami sandwich….for old time sake!

 

Good Bye Landline and a Trip Down Memory Lane.

After much debate in our household we finally have made the momentous decision to cancel our landline phone service.  Those of you under 30 probably are saying “a land…what?” while our parents are saying “how can you possibly manage?”   I mentioned this decision on Twitter and got the same mixed reaction.

We’ve debated the pro’s and con’s and decided the $40 per month service was simply enabling the pesky duct cleaning telemarketers to interrupt our dinners 3 times a week.  All other calls can be easily managed by our ever present mobile phones.

But now a little nostalgia… I am of a certain age and a country boy…so unlike today where telephones are a given…when I was a kid…not so much.

When my parents moved to the wilds of Haliburton over 40 years ago there was still a “local” phone company and an operator that connected you, but only after you asked to be connected with  “Dixie4973” for local calls or you had to ask to be connected to the Bell operator for those crazy long distance calls to “the city”.

It was a big day when we  moved into the “Bell” phase and had the stylish Black dial phone that weighed at least 15 pounds… and had direct dialing with no operators for the local calls.

My Grandmother lived in Germany and calling oversees had a launch sequence similar in complexity to launching a nuclear warhead, with similar cost.  If I remember correctly you had to call the local operator and ask to be connected to the overseas operator you than provided that operator with the phone # country and city of the party you wanted to reach, than you hung up the phone and waited. If you were lucky, 10 minutes later, the phone would ring and in a perfect world the operator would connect you.  And on a good day you were able to understand the person at the other end through all the static and delays, other times you may as well have been calling Neptune.

My folks than opened  a business in a wilderness park about 30 miles further north and phone lines had yet to make the journey that far into the boonies.  The “gatehouse” had 50 foot antenna and a “radio phone” which while incredibly expensive had terrible reception and reliability, so for the most part we were simply without a phone in the summer months unless we drove for 40 minutes to civilization.

When numbers warranted and Bell finally brought the phone lines up to the park, we were in for a new adventure called  “the party line” and no this was not a 900 # with conversations starting with “what are you wearing?” This meant that 4 households shared the same phone line.  I believe our ring was 3 short 1 long.   Let’s not forget that this was before the arrival of cellphones, texting and the internet. So guess how the teenagers communicated? 4 households sharing one phone line was less that optimal. It did improve your dexterity though, we became experts of slowly and quietly lifting the receiver so you could eaves drop on said teenagers conversations without being detected.  It worked well until Mom discovered what we were up to. Yes this is what we did for entertainment back in the day.

Big technological advances were:  the push button phone, touch tone dialing, and the answering machine! The possibilities seemed endless!  All that exciting change and growth and now…it’s good bye!?   Yes it’s time… But now I’m curious what my son will write in 40 years about the first mobile phone he used, and this crazy thing his Dad had called a Blackberry. But he’ll never know the joy of eavesdropping on the party line…

Memories of Growing up in a Small Town

I have to say that social media has been a game changer for me in many ways.  Many of us are mocked by other generations for our constant use of smart phones, and our addiction to Facebook and Twitter…  I choose to see the upside.  It has meant a reconnection with people from my distant past that otherwise would never have happened.   More years have passed than I care to remember since attending High School in the Highlands of Haliburton.  But suddenly via social media I’m sharing pictures and updates with old high school and elementary school classmates, even my Grade 7 teacher!   In several instances the result was a reunion.  25 years after venturing out into the world we discovered that we are practically neighbours, we just didn’t know it.  In essence technology has reunited me with my very tech free youth.

I also love the immediacy of what social media offers, and the instant feedback.  This technology brings news to my world immediately, worldly or personal.  A Mayor smoking crack…my Blackberry lights up with commentary from my Twitter friends.   A news story about my neighbourhood, 1 tweet brings almost instant information. 

Sometimes the worlds converge…instant news and the past. Yesterday, within minutes of it happening, I was saddened to see the old bowling alley from my childhood hometown go up in flames.  What was known as Medley's Dance and Bowl when I was a kid was built by Bud and Muriel Medley in 1948. I went to school with their grandson.   It was a little surreal to be viewing on Twitter what was happening 250km away. My parents still live 10 minutes away but I probably knew faster that this landmark was ablaze. The “Carnarvon Bowl” is now gone. 

My parents moved to the area from Scarborough in the late 60’s and as a kid on special occasions we got to go to the bowling alley.  In the 70’s high technology was an automated bowling alley that retrieved the bowling balls and sent them back and stood the pins back up…it was magical. Not a flat screen TV to be found, but a pad of score paper with some fat pencils, and possibly an 8-track player and some Tommy Hunter`s greatest hits playing in the background.

It was in some ways a simpler time. Staying with all the neighbours kids at one house, with strict instructions to obey the 1 or 2 teenagers, while all the parents went to the “Dance” at Medleys was exciting.  Being allowed to stay up late to watch the hockey game on CBC, because that was the only channel we got, was the big thrill. There was no cell phone to call, no internet, email or bbm service to contact the parents if we got into trouble or had a fight.  We were on our own for a few hours.  In today’s world that might be considered child abandonment!   But for me these times represent great memories.  

 

I have not lived in Haliburton for many years and have not darkened the door of the old bowling alley in at least 20 years. But I feel for the people of Carnarvon and the surrounding area.  When a small community loses a business, it`s a personal tragedy and changes the community. A landmark of 65 years is now reduced to ashes, and I dare say unlikely to be rebuilt.  My information suggests nobody was hurt during the fire but the community is forever changed.  Thanks for the memories Medley`s Dance & Bowl. A good time was had by all who knew ya…

Toronto Needs a New Mayor

When is it time to throw in the towel?  The media circus that has surrounded the Toronto Mayor has had its ups and downs over the past 3 years. Some would argue the man was in over his head from the beginning. But 3 years later, the Mayor has defied the odds and political convention by putting his fingers in his ears and continued on his journey.  Yesterday however the frenzy reached new heights with confirmation by the Toronto Police that the infamous “crack video” does exist, is intact and is in their possession.  The revelation added to the intrigue with the possibility of a second video.  Perhaps more importantly was the charge that the Mayors friend was charged with extortion for his attempt to retrieve the video. Can all this come from “Toronto the Good” ?

 

It doesn’t take the reasoning of Sherlock Holmes to deduce that extreme measures are not taken to retrieve a video that either doesn’t exist or has nothing incriminating on it.  And in all my years I have never heard of anyone going to a known crackhouse, hanging out with crackheads, to smoke tobacco out of a crack pipe.   In my less than humble opinion, the evidence and innuendo have rendered the current Mayor neutered.   So Mayor Ford, Toronto deserves a Mayor that can go to work each day without attracting a constant side show.  If you are not ready to concede that you have a substance abuse problem, that’s okay, many addicts are the last to know they have a problem.  Hopefully you will come to that understanding before you die.  The truth of the matter is that if the substance abuse doesn’t kill you….the lifestyle will.   One person from the infamous photo is already dead.  But in the meantime, the city can’t continue to tolerate your behaviour.

Now to Ford Nation,  I understand your glee in getting your man into the Mayor’s chair.  It seemed like a good idea at the time…to teach the left a lesson on how to cut spending rather than raise taxes.  And sure Ford did a few good things, he contracted out garbage pickup, negotiated a new collective agreement with city workers, but this was in the shadows of constant nonsense.  And after all the antics, the conflict of interest charges, the drunken escapades, hanging out with and endorsing convicted criminals,  the bullying, the name calling, and the worst infraction…the constant lying... it’s time to move on.   Toronto deserves and needs a Mayor that is not distracted by addictions, and obligations to the criminal element. Toronto deserves a Mayor that honestly owns his/her missteps and mistakes. Toronto deserves a Mayor that invokes pride, not embarrassment,  when representing it’s citizens on the international stage, Toronto deserves a Mayor that respects the laws of the land and the rules of the office. So again Ford Nation… It’s okay to admit when you are wrong…we’ve all been there.  But continual denial of a problem that everyone else sees… makes you part of the problem.

 It’s okay to say good bye to Rob Ford as Mayor. In fact the wake up call might just save his life.  Plus he has a wealthy family business that will likely take him back. His kids won’t starve.  He is also not the only person in the city of 3 million to believe in fiscal conservatism.  Others with less baggage will come forward, once he gets out of the way.   Let’s all stop enabling a clearly sick man, and get on with the business of building a city.

   

Them and Us

I live what I’m told is a middle class life… My wife and I both work full time, we have the child, the dog, the house, the mortgage, the cars, the car payments. Sound familiar? If yes, than you are classified as one of “us”.  You understand what it’s like when the spouse loses a job and you see the debt load climb, the unexpected car repair, the expensive summer camp bills.  You understand because ultimately you write the cheque for all of the above… and then some.  We’re the ones who drive the car yet another year longer, don’t take the vacation when times are tough, and work the overtime when offered.  In success or failure... we take it.

As an “us” person I am having an increasingly difficult time understanding “them”.  By them, I mean those we see as the lead stories in our nightly news and daily radio talk shows.  Our politicians… they clearly are not one of us, despite their campaign claims.

When I hear a Canadian Senator being interviewed over allegations of improper expense claims I feel my head nearing explosive pressure.  Clearly they just don’t get it.   It’s bad enough that taxpayers are on the hook for paying their freight every time they fly home. But apparently that’s not good enough, instead they bill 2 other agencies for the same flight. And bill for fictional expenses. When questioned the response is a variation of “I’m entitled to my entitlements”.  And that only the airlines benefited? Seriously?  Well when one of “us” travels and somebody else pays the tab we consider it a benefit.  Whenever I don’t have to write a cheque for goods and services I receive…it seems pretty clear who the beneficiary is.  But not so for THEM.  The look of bewilderment and consternation from our politicians when clearly caught with their hands in the cookie jar is both maddening and pathetic.  Are these people really that delusional or just great actors? Sorry, but the crocodile tears just are not cutting it.

What I do know is that WE are getting tired of THEM.  And I hope that at the next opportunity we exercise our democratic right to clean house. It’s time to take out the trash.   

Are They Listening?

Do you ever wonder if your kids are listening to anything you say or do? You are in good company if you have these thoughts.   All be it my little guy is only 5 and I wonder sometimes if we should have his ears checked… but he seems to have no problem hearing the Treehouse channel. Several of my friends now have teenagers and wonder if they have an ounce of influence on any of their kid’s decisions.

I had the occasion to spend an evening with a long-time friend…sans kids.  We had the time to share some parenting experiences. His daughter, now 14, has little time for her dad these days other than when some cash is needed for camp or a new I-phone… not an easy time.

All this talk prompted a trip down memory lane, to a time when I was a teenager.  I grew up in a blue collar immigrant home in the country.  My dad was a good role model in many ways, hardworking family man and provider. But German dads of his generation were not known for great conversations with their kids about the meaning of life.   Compared to many of my friends I spent a lot of time with my dad when I was growing up.  I spent a lot of Saturdays rambling down country roads in a pick-up truck with “the old man”, coming to and from job sites or cutting fire wood for the long cold winters. We talked plenty…about cars, politics, and cars…

But when I was in Grade 13, and it was decision time about whether to go to work, college or university…much to my surprise, my Dad did have something to say. He didn’t call a meeting or center me out at the dinner table. In his quiet way as we bounced around in the old pick-up truck on a Saturday afternoon, he firmly suggested I take option # 3, University. He calmly explained that he felt I had what it took and I should at least give it my best shot…and he would do whatever he could at his end to make it possible. And then we talked about cars.   A few months later he dropped me off at the doors of York University.  Yes Dad…I was listening, and Thanks!

Getting Sleepy Now

As a Canadian the number one topic of conversation is the weather, as a parent the topic of sleep or perhaps more accurately, the lack of sleep has to be in the top 5!

I came into parenthood a little later in life than many…in my early 40’s. For many of those 40 plus years I enjoyed sound fitful sleep, rarely interrupted, rarely less than a solid 7-8 hours. And in all honesty I have to admit wondering what all the fuss was about when those other people (parents) complained about sleep issues…Suck it up folks! Well yes indeed payback is a bitch… now I’m the one complaining and getting those looks of disbelief from the "parents to be".

Folklore suggests that mothers are programmed to forget the worst of the childbearing process, otherwise no woman would ever have a second child and the human species would have long become extinct. Having been in the delivery room and witnessed what my wife went through I strongly suspect there may be some truth to that theory.

Now let’s take the theory one step further…do parents forget the worst of the early parenting experience as well…for the sake of the future of the species? Or is it just all the sleep deprivation that has caused memory loss?

I do remember enough… especially about the massive changes to sleep patterns to say it’s worth a conversation. But is there really a solution? I have my doubts.

In my particular case we had an infant that went through an extended phase where only daddy could put him in his crib without a meltdown. This was a difficult time and the impact on me and those around me was serious. I can't remember a time where I had to "drag my ass" in so many ways. I really don't know how I made it through some of those days at work, and god bless my coworkers for tolerating my less than exemplary work on some days. For me the first thing to go when exhaustion sets in is my patience. After multiple days it can get down right ugly. A friend of mine, also a parent, shared his valuable experience that just when you think you've reached the very end of your rope...it gives just a little more. Thankfully he was right. There were some dark days and in hindsight I wish I had handled somethings differently..but don't know if that was even a possibility.

My son is only 5 but has now been sleeping through the night for quite some time, and that dark period of months of sleepless nights, seems at times, like it was a lifetime ago. But it changed me, probably forever.

I was out last night for a rare "guys night out" with a friend. He's my age, with a teenage daughter. At dinner we laughed over our now ever conscious choice to avoid caffeine and of course the topic of "sleep" was discussed. He shattered my illusion that my sleep would return to those days before child. He too went from the sound sleeper to the light sleeper, up at least once a night often more... Funny I don 't remember reading this in any of those parenting books before we got pregnant...

And what inspired this post? I had an absolutely horrendous sleep last night...

Immunizations and the Conspiracy Theorists.

When Conspiracy theories affect kids health...

My 5 year old brings many things home from school. Last week it was a note from the Principal that there had been a confirmed case of Chicken Pox in the school. This prompted his mother and I to review the immunization record we have for our son. .. And yes DS5 has received all his immunizations, including the one for Chicken Pox. So we had a collective sigh of relief.

The next day on my travels the topic on the radio was the ever controversial flu shot… and the annual debate of "do we or don’t we." I cringed when the radio station opened up the phone lines…as next to the topic of the 9/11 World Trade Center disaster, nothing draws out the conspiracy theorists faster than talk of immunizations…tin hats firmly in place. Sure enough it didn’t take long for the calls and claims of conspiracy to start. The usual theories of mercury laden viles and  other "junk" to further the profits and agenda of big business…and of course these callers could not be dissuaded by mere evidence from hundreds of reputable medical studies dispelling these myths….because if a 3rd rate actress, claims it gave her son Autism...well it must be true.

I don’t get too bent out of shape when Adults make the choice not to get the Flu shot, but when the decision involves not immunizing children from serious illnesses my blood pressure rises. Now to be fair…I have missed a few flu shots over the years…but as a direct result of sloth and procrastination. I’ve also been known to be downright suspicious of big Pharma and the desire to drug us for anything and everything, but the bottom line is that I have to believe in science and more importantly the results.  When hundreds of studies from reputable and learned sources all arrive at the same result...you have my attention.

I guess the images of kids in iron lungs, and wheel chairs and leg braces from the ravages of Polio are now too distant for parents of today to remember? At risk of raising the ire of the conspiracy theorists, I have to say it’s at best reckless to not immunize your kids, at worst it’s extremely dangerous and potentially deadly. Not immunizing kids is also selfish and ignorant…unless you live on a deserted island, your decision affects all of us. Immunizing worked in the past to eradicate devastating illnesses like Polio and small pox because everybody participated. I thought evolution meant we got smarter with time…but sometimes it appears we are leaping backwards.

Talk to your doctor and do it for the children!