Encore…

Gee – it’s been a while…

A year and a half on, and life trundles by…

I’m going to try to get back in here… I kind of enjoy reading my own rubbish in a truly narcissistic way and so many things just buzz around upstairs that it’s probably healthy to get them out and gain perspective.

stuff like:

• home/work/family/personal goals balance – that old chestnut
• The always intruding guilty sense of failure in some area of life. (and I’m not even Catholic or Jewish – go figure)
• The awesomeness of fatherhood
• Projects, dreams and  inspiration
• The phrase “We’re doing the best we can”
• Re-preparing for new arrivals

I’ll start with a small anecdote about Jack.

Last week I was sick. SICK SICK SICK. I had stayed home and tried to work from home when I finally called it quits and hit the hay at around 3pm. It was the kind of sick when you know you really are because you give in to sleep at that hour without so much as a hiccup.

Jen came to see how I was doing at around 5:30 and I stirred and told her that I’d be down shortly, only to fall asleep again…

At around 8:00pm I woke up to the pitter patter of tiny feet around the bed, and a giggling child stroking my face telling me that everything was going to be OK.

I told him I was feeling lousy and so he climbed up onto the bed (as only kids do with flailing arms and legs and bums in the air and he lay on top of me for a moment just giving me a hug.

Then he ordered his mother to go fetch a book so that he could read to me, and I was treated to a Thomas the Tank Engine story: ” A Crack in the Track” – a tale which deals with the challenges of things which temporarily break down, but with the right amount of teamwork and patience will get back on track. As if he knew that this analogy would somehow be fitting.

As soon as he was done, he put the book down and gave me kiss and told me to get better and “boing-boinged” off to bed. (it’s a routine thing)

My 2.5 year old son.

So I hold that thought for the days when I’m far from home or  I’m walking home through the pouring rain or he’s overtired and targeting my solar plexus…

Part one of many of “The awesomeness of fatherhood” series.

The Mosaic

…nabbed from the mighty Lambic…

Here’s how you play:

Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr search
using only the first page. Choose an image.

Copy and paste each of the URLs into the mosaic maker at FD’s image maker

The questions:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favourite food?
3. What high school did you attend?
4. What is your favourite colour?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favourite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favourite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One word to describe you.
12. Your Flickr name.

More to follow about the hoose and the wee man’s 1st birthday shortly…

Into the Wild

so… yes… we bought a house.

More on that in a bit…

I just finished reading “Into the Wild” by Jon Krakauer – an account and commentary of the short life of Chris McCandless, recently dramatized in a movie of the same name.

To cut a long story short, McCandless was the kid of 22 years old who, after fulfilling the wishes of his parents by seeing out his undergraduate degree in Atlanta took himself on a two year trans-American adventure without money or provisions to prove to himself that he could live a meager and self fulfilling existence without the luxuries… actually – more than that – his odyssey was to live an existence without in order to cleanse himself.

He was found, dead, in Alaska two and half years after he left, apparently starved…

On my own professional ego…

*start rant*

I never used to think I had a big, professional ego…

For the most part, I have always found it relatively easy to articulate my thoughts and to influence with relative ease… or at least have my opinions respected. Especially about things I kow and am passionate about.

Recently, however, and for reasons which I can’t seem to fathom, this has been getting more and more difficult.

There are few things that rile me more than the sense that I’m not being listened to. Or that my opinions count for nothing because the person I am talking to assumes they know better. I can see it happening, in the recipient’s body language and see the begin to unfocus. The teacher in me was trained to recognize these signs and to adjust accordingly by asking checking and verification questions…

And while I try REALLY hard not to revert back to some kind of childish impudence, I’m getting closer to tantrums than I think most realise. And, of course, when I get close to that the red mist descends and clear, articulate thoughts are gone.

I took quite a large slice of humble pie to come work here: I had previously held management positions in all previous companies and had prided myself on the quality of work I undertook to make that grade and become a positive, professional leader and I empowered others to be and do the same. For a while here, mine was a new ‘fresh’ approach which seemed to be embraced by most people I dealt with, and I didn’t feel confined by the position I held which, given the steps forward I had made in my professional life, I worried meant I was taking a step backward.

It seems that your working life accumulates equity, in the same way that a house does when held onto: As you create experience and maturity you develop your worth. Unfortunately, a ’step back, might be considered a salf imposed recession, and as such impacts your worth.

All that said, I have never looked at the professional side of my life to be the be-all-and-end-all of my existence. It is a means to an end – to support my family and provide a lifestyle that we can enjoy…

But we all need to have that sense of worth and of recognition and of accomplishment.

Here, there are a whole bunch of barriers to that: A ‘class system’, based on seniority, a lack of vision at a Management level, which means that most creativity is plagiarised by those managers who are lucky enough to have good, creative team-members, selfish personal agendas and zero recognition.

Which, perhaps I should just accept.

But I’m realising it fits less and less with my M.O., and makes me bitter as hell, which impacts my work habits and will doubtless put me further back down the chain that I was when I started.

That is, of course, completely up to me (do you adapt to your company or does your company adapt to you), but how many barriers and patronising insults do you hit head-on before you realise it hurts your head. Or your ego.

Perhaps the biggest question I’m asking myself is if I’m learning anything? Am I becoming a better worker? The answer is that I’m not sure I am.

Maslow’s heirarchy of needs is largely based on the overall human motivation, but can be remodeled to the workplace. I feel at present that I’m stuck in one of the lower levels and while trying to ascend, am being stifled down so that others can reach the top levels at the expense of people like me.

Ugh, even reading my own words makes me feel weak and kind of pathetic.

The good news is that I know I’m in control of my own path. I have choices. Taking this job as very definately a case fo “sometimes you have to do what you have to do in order to put food on the table”, and it goes without saying that I know there are people who are a hell of a lot more needing than me.

But this is about me and my own state of mind.

So being in control means I have choices:

1) Run this course, adjust, and be silent and bitter – not good for anyone.
2) Run this course, adjust and try to effect positive change – the challenging option
3) Jump ship and target environments which match my style – not impossible, but lengthy change
4) Stop whining and get an attitude change. You do it because you have to – most likely immediate change!

As usual, I probably haven’t articulated myself well – I don’t when I feel down or pissy or negative.

*end rant*

The FACTS… via another meme

I was tagged by the mercurial and as yet uncrowned King of the Nation.

I’m not sure I have any quirks and quibbles that I haven’t used in previous MeMe’s, and all I have left are dark… DARK… secrets.

Let’s see…

Here are the rules:

- Link to the person that tagged you.
- Post the rules on your blog.
- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. When I travel somewhere new – especially a new city – I need to know as much about it as I can. This goes beyond local knowledge and historical tid-bits. I mean down to the micro level. Street maps and intersections. I memorize them prior to going and make mental comment as to their accuracy. I blame google earth.

2. When I was 12 years old, I had a denim jacket on which I drew a huge AC/DC logo on the back. I thought it was cool, but the kids at school mocked me for having permanent marker on my jacket and my parents were horrified as being AC/DC meant something completely different then. It probably explains a lot about my personal definition of cool.

3. My favourite self composed cheesey ballad was called “If You Do” and the opening lyric was:

“If you do, save a tear
Let me know that you’re near
I hurt you, I made you cry
Do you know how hard it is for me to say that I have lied….”

Man, I was so deep.

4. When I do or say something socially awkward, I usually turn into Ricky Gervais.

5. I have been planning out my stage version of the book and movie “The Commitments” for about 4 years. In my head. Somewhere in the depths of my home PC I have 2 pages of script written. And you wonder why I keep my moniker!

6. No matter how much advance notice I have, or how far in advance I remember, I always send international parcels FAR too late for delivery on time. Maybe that’s the same as #5.

…so there you have it!

Now then, I tag This one, y’all, Fihiskiher, Zu, Monsieur and last but not least Al.

Have at ye.

Father Time

I received an email from an old school friend who I had not seen in years inviting me to my high school 20 year reunion in Edinburgh last night.

We exchanged a few emails back and forth reminiscing about the days and laughing about some of the nostalgic moments – even sharing a couple of photos from back then.

I doubt I’ll be able to make it but it was fun to hear some of those old names I hadn’t heard or thought about in close to two decades.

Then it struck me.

20 years.

That’s over half of my entire lifetime… I grew up and finished high school, and then lived that lifetime again…

Yet the 2nd half is a blur of acceleration and real life stuff. Some real highlights and some some real lows, but a blur nonetheless.

Flash back to high school and all my memories are in slow motion in comparison. The days seemed endless and the people eternal.

Of all the reunions that I could be invited to, I think this would be the most fascinating – I sometimes feel as sure as that 18 year old who left school, and sometimes as vulnerable as the 12 year old who started it, and wherever we are in our lives, this group of people who will be meeting again in June 2008 will probably relate to that and put us in the same picture.

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Going back to the age thing, I was in one of my university lectures this past week and we’re in the process of forming groups of 6 for a group project… it’s important to note that, for this class, the continuing ed. students have been intermingles with regular day undergrads so there is quite a mix in the room of 80.

I found myself on Monday surrounded by undergrads as we are all reminded that we should start forming working groups. The group who were sat directli in front of me had found 5 members and were looking for a 6th, when they turned to me and made eye contact… I think she knew that I had overheard as she asked me if I was interested. I immediately said “sure”, but as the words came out, the girl who was sat behind me immediately stepped forward and offered herself to the group. Of course I was easily ousted and the 6th spot was gone.

It’s amazing how suddenly and immediately I felt rejected. About 2 moments later, one of the huddle turned around and said, with a small amount of guilt, “Hey, why don’t you become like a reserve – you never know”.

I smiled politely and said that I’d look around and not to worry.

It was then that I realized, maybe for the first time in years that I am not everyman to everything, that I can be rejected for simply being different – in my case, older. It was a strange realization and one which I think many go through – by nature, we tend to surround ourselves with like-minded people, as we grow up, we tend to surround ourselves with people of the same age simply because of consistencies and similarities in life experience, attitude etc…

Of course there are exceptions, but as a general rule…

I still think that I can relate to the younger folks, I lived their life already, right?

The hard thing to accept is that there’s a point by which you are not immediately accepted because you are too far outside of their range or sphere of reference. I’m sure I was the same. Like I said earlier, I know I thought I had it all figured out in my late teens and early twenties and then my education began again.

I wonder if humility goes in cycles…

Ages 0-17, relative humility
Ages 17-25 zero/low humility
Ages 25-40 relative humility
Ages 40-65 zero/low humility
Ages 65- relative humility.

For the record, I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself… not at all.

Just realising that I was somewhere I knew existed, but had realised I’d reached.

Reading back over this, I’m not sure I’ve been all that articulate.

Are there other likeminded 30 somethings who have experienced the same thing?

Adios 2007

2007 was, of course, just a great year for me…

In the short 6 months that he has been on this planet (out of utero) I have watched him develop from a pink wriggly wee thing into a communicative, relaxed, happy, healthy and gorgeous wee man. I am so absolutely in love with him, more than I thought was ever possible, and have come to realise that all those clichés are true about the depth to which you adore your own.

I have had the priviledge to witness my beautiful wife grow into the perfect, relaxed and caring mother, and it’s really humbling to see her become this so effortlessly and naturally. I’m sure that she’d deny the ‘effortlessly’ part, but still…

I’m so batty about my family it’s stupid!

I have enjoyed (and can, on reflection, actually say ‘enjoyed’ and mean it!) 9 months of gainful employment and have met some great people with whom I’ve shared some laughs and some great lessons on the journey so far…

I turned 37 years old and have more salt than pepper, but am gradually coming to appreciate the ‘distinguished’ description.

Who am I kidding? I still hate it.

On the flip side too many people I know have been affected by serious illness, and for the first time, I have felt very powerless to do anything truly positive to help.

His journey has been awful and inspiring all at the same time. I know you’ll read this and I state right here that you are – whether you believe now, tomorrow or whenever – the bravest, strongest person I know and I’m incredibly proud of you and what you have achieved despite so much going against you.

There, I said it.

I wish I could have done more.

So for all of the above, there have been resolutions for this new year that are easy to to adhere to, and which I fully, fully intend to keep. They’ll be between myself and the moon, but I guess those who know me will know and understand them through the upcoming days, weeks and months.

By ex-roommate always used to ask the following question at New Year:

What was the best thing about 2007What was the worst thing about 2007

What is your motto for 2008

I think the first two are covered… but the motto?

“Can and Will”

Happy 2008!

What’s yours?

Thoughts on personal fulfillment

This Saturday is the Saku Koivu Foundation fundraiser, organized by yours truly.

It’s the third annual fundraiser that I’ve put together, but this year seems to have been harder work than usual…

It’s hard to say why – I imagine a combination of timing (I just got back from Washington DC), balancing family dynamics, and just a spread of energy.

It’s also, in some ways, the largest of the events that I’ve produced solo: – 9 acts, marketing, logistics and, the most challenging of all, people!

I was asked the question, whilst in the US recently, as to what I thought was the way to go with life – the dream job which challenges you every day, or a lesser daily challenge, supplemented with created challenges and passions.

My initial reaction was that the dream job is all fine and good, but that, by definition, you encompass all of the things above into that sphere because, if you are anything like me, you throw yourself head first into it and allow it to consume you.

I also firmly believe that you are personally responsible for your own passions, which means that nothing but that motivates you to succeed in them…

I have so much respect for doctors, nurses and teachers who work in extremely challenging circumstances and environments and often wonder if the reason that drove to where they are now still remains. I studied to be a teacher and soon became jaded to the fact that I wasn’t going to change the world and rose tints on my glasses soon faded to let the harsher neon striplights in.

Are they living their passion? And if they devote whatever is left of their lives to something else, is their focus gone?

I now work in an environment which is sometimes dull, frequently frustrating, but often challenging and even rewarding. It also allows me to switch it off at 5:00pm so that I can shift my priorites to family and those things that I can enjoy in their purest forms. I can mix them up when I want and try something else, all the while (relatively) secure in the fact that I can look after the practical things like paying for my heat and car insurance.

And after a couple of relatively high stress but high profile positions before, this is very refreshing… but it’s all evolution… marriage and family brings compromise where there was none and I chose (some) security with changeable opportunity over personal and selfish dedication. I hate using the word ’selfish’, but in my head it is the only appropriate word.

So, having said that I found the fundraising efforts hard, I wouldn’t change any of it, because when it’s all done, I look at it as another thing I created and did because I wanted to, not because I had to…

Now then… whether all of this makes for an interesting life, well that’s another question…

Strapping the Les Paul and jumping about like I’m still 18 years old?

I’ll say…

Dreams of trumpets?

Damn, it’s been a while…

I had a dream last night that I had to sit a high level,. grade 8 trumpet proficiency exam, in front of some very stern french speaking Québecois and within some oak trimmed, old, school setting.

What made the situation all so uncomfortable was that I hadn’t picked up a trumpet in 15 years and that the taking of the test seem to be expected by those who surrounded me… and even though I had no idea who ‘they’ were, I knew there was an enormous expectancy for me to pass and do quite well.

I sat and passed my Grade 8 BSM exam in 1986, playing through the entirety of Haydn’s trumpet concerto, two highly complicated studies, a sight-reading piece and multiple scales, and know, in the cold sober light of day that the preparation for this lies in terms of months, not days, less hours!

In my dream I looked first at the scale list and focused on the scale G# major, and in a moment of semi consciousness I started figure out the progression:

G#, A#, C, C#, D#, F, G, G#, and I caught myself working out the notation with my fingers:

G# = 2nd and 3rd valves, A# = 1st valve etc…

Luckily the set piece was Haydn’s concerto so I felt this wave of relief as I remembered the majority of it, only for a further wave of terror to hit as I remembered the improvised cadenza.

This wave crescendo’d as I looked at some faceless study which required lightening quick reflexes.

And the weight of expectation was almost unbearable as I realised that I was facing something that I couldn’t do. At least not now. Not without preparation. At one time I could have, but not now.

I picked up that trumpet with trembling hands and tried to blow, but all I got was multi-tonal farting: somewhere between noise and sound.

After a few more attempts, the single notes began to appear, and the arpeggios started to flow… but the lip was weak.

As the sense of desperation began to peak, a further sense of hopelessness began to creep into my psyche. Which, especially in dreamland, is not a good place to be. I realised that I was going to have to tell someone I cared about (why else would the weight of expectation be so high) that I had failed and that I couldn’t do what someone so desperately wanted me to do.

It was actually a relief to wake up, and to hear Jack gurgle in the monitor and to see the snow through my window… but I do subscribe to the notion that our thoughts, fears, joys and the such do manifest themselves in weird ways… thing is, I can’t think of anything that is beyond my scope of ability at the moment. I’m someone who will meet a challenge head on for the most part.

Have your way dream analysts.

But it was intense. And I still don’t fully know if I was more nervous that I would take this test and make a complete ass of it, or if I felt so awful that I was about to let someone down, or that I couldn’t do something do something as competently as I once could…

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I checked out my blog stats and although I haven’t written a word in almost 3 months, there is still a steady stream of visitors.

Hello! Who are you?

Do stop to say hi…

Family is Family

My twin brother arrived yesterday from the UK along with his wife and 1 1/2 year old daughter…

Obviously I am hugely excited to see him this evening – I haven’t seen him since I got married 11 months ago and now, of course, I have his nephew to introduce him to.

My brother and I were adopted shortly after birth, and although we grew up in very separate directions (I took the art – he took the science), we’ve always maintained an extremely close bond – there’s always been a lot of love and respect between us.

I have no adverse reaction to the word ‘adoption’. My mother (adopted) told me that the best advice she received when she picked us up for the first time, was to say the word in a warm, safe, comforting environment so that it would never be a ‘bad’ word. I grew up grounded and educated and consider myself supremely lucky that I have the parents that I have. I owe everything I am today to them. I also have no doubts at all that the adoption of my twin brother and I was the best thing for all of us, including my birth parents. Very rarely do I get the urge to know more about them.

Only after a combination of life milestones and large amounts of alcohol! And that dissipates with a hangover!

All that said, there is a tiny voice inside which makes me feel even MORE privileged to introduce my son to my brother.

When he had his daughter, I felt this immediate bond with her. And it was something primal and innate, because I know that she was also, in a sense, part of me too. It’s an intangible emotion that I find very difficult to express – especially, as I have a sister who also has a daughter, but it’s an undeniable one nevertheless.

I feel the same way about Jack.

Of all the people on this earth, I know I’ll feel most proud when I introduce him to my brother.