Happy New Year...

Happy New Year.
It is about 45 minutes into the new year, and I sit here doing something that has become a bit of a tradition for me.  Something that my Grandfather instilled in me when I was around 10 (??)...Can't really remember how old I was, but I was definitely in elementary school, and I know this because of the house we were living in at the time.

I am reflecting, contemplating, and sipping.
Reflecting on my past year.
Contemplating my future year.
And sipping some Whiskey.

My parents used to host a New Year's party when I was a kid.  Shortly before Midnight, when the adults had enough booze in them that the either did not mind, or did not notice, I would come downstairs and "join" the party.  I remember fantastic snacks and food at these parties.  My mom would make a chili two days in advance and let it sit.  All the guests would bring food, and the dining room table would be covered.

The morning after the parties, my parents would sleep late (hungover...) and my brothers and I would feast on the leftover food.  We would also raise the furniture for loose change.  You know, between seat cushions....

At one of these parties, my grandfather told me about the importance of  New Years.  A time to reflect on you past--what did you learn.  A time to contemplate the future--what do you plan to do, hope to accomplish.  A time to sit some whiskey as you ponder where you are in your life, and what kind of person are you.  He encouraged me to do this, as he did it, and we sat in silence for a few minutes--the only sound was the sound of the ice cubes in his tumbler as he sipped his Scotch Whiskey.  After a few minutes, he told me that it was important to make some resolutions based upon one's contemplation.  He encouraged me to do the same.  I though for a moment, then responded.  Probably something about studying more in school, trying to get along better with my brothers, etc.  Good goals, he said, but encouraged me to think bigger as well.  To think about small things, and how those small things can influence big things.  I thought some more..."Maybe challenge other kids when they make racist jokes, maybe volunteer with a community development group",  I said. He smiled.
I then asked him about his goals and new years resolutions.
He responded with something about spending some more time at the seniors centre, spending time with those with no family, and something about keeping the fight against our conservative government.
He also said something that surprised me: to not drink any more.  He then took another sip of his scotch.
"But Grandpa," I said, "it is after midnight and you are drinking?"
'That's right," he said, "and I'm not going to drink any less, either!"

That was my grandfather.  Very serious at one moment, and a clown the next.

That being said, ever since then, I have reflected, contemplated, and sipped.
Now my drink has changed, I prefer the Irish Whiskey (Red Breast to be exact), to the Scotch.  But that might not be the scotch so much as the flavour--he drank Glenfiddich.
But the rest I do, right down to the corny resolution joke.

So, what can I reflect on.  I "official" time at work by 40 minutes to I could pick up my son from Kindergarten.  Definite good choice.  A lot less stress for both of us from last year with someone different always picking him up.  I've tried to change my 'mindset' at work.  I can't save them all, I can't really save any of them, but I can do the best with what I have.
Contemplate:  Is it time for a job change? Or perhaps a shift.  (I almost called it a "career" and not a job--but that is a discussion for another day.)
My job is burning me out.  Not as bad this year, but still happening.  Working within a messed up system is eating me up.  Definitely need to take some steps to change this...
Resolutions:
- Exercise a lot more--helps with the stress, help with how I feel about myself, and also helps with the lovin'
- Spend better time with my kids.  Out, active, thinking, talking, exploring, etc.
- Improve the work situation....get some more qualifications, and look for a transfer.
And last but not least, I am not going to drink any more.
(sip, swallow...)
But I am not going to drink any less, either!

Canadian Conundrum

I went to an 'interesting' party in Toronto last night.  70th anniversary/double 40th birthday party for friends of my mother.  She was not going to go--the long drive, her health conditions, etc.--so I took her.  She really wanted to go, this couple means a lot to her. She has been friends with these two for over 40 years.

The 'interesting' part, though, were the guests.  There was a lot of money at this party.  The hosts were a vet to the wealthy and a psychiatrist. The guest probably spend more money over the holidays than I make in a year.  Mr. Glitter--hairstylist to the stars was in attendance.  Professional service people to the wealthy: dentists & vets to the rich and famous, power stock brokers and financial planners, etc.  Christ, their personal trainer was there, and from the sounds of his client list, he's probably making at least twice as much as me a year. Almost all the guests were over 50. 

So, there I am at this part, feeling rather out of place, and knowing no one beyond the hosts, who I only really know who they are.  But the affair is catered, servers walking around with trays of delicious food, and an endless supply of win, so I found a secluded corner to stand in, drank my bottomless glass of wine, munched some snacks, and observed people.  The sociologist in me was actually rather enjoying this, watching how people were interacting.  Throughout the night, different people came over to me, introduced themselves, and we chatted for a little while.  Much of it was older women (and gay men) trying to feel good about themselves, flirting with a younger, attractive man.  And they made sure I knew that they thought I was attractive....no worries.

One women in particular stands out though.  Wealthy, and flaunting it.  At first the usual small-talk: how do you know the hosts?  How have your holidays been so far? etc.  As the familiarly increased, however, so did the depth of conversation.  She started complaining how Toronto had no good shops.  Right, like I have a clue, or care.  To illustrate her point she told me that she had been in Paris over the summer and bought an Armani jacket.  Coming back to Canada, she regretted not buying the matching pants with the jacket, so she went to Holt Renfrew.  They did not have the pants, nor did they have any pants that would suffice.  She asked them to pull out the Armani catalogue and she showed them the pants that matched her jacket.  Holt Renfrew did not carry those pants, because apparently in their words, it was too sophisticated for Toronto shoppers....

So where's the conundrum?  Hold on, I'll get there...

So, the woman I am talking about is complaining about not being able to spend exorbitant amounts of money on excessive clothing.  Her next topic of conversation?  Poverty and wealth disparity in our country.  Pardon me?

That's right.  In her words, the levels of poverty in our country are disgusting.  But worse than the poverty it the inequitable distribution of wealth.  "How is it we can have people that are so rich, living such lavish lifestyles, while there are people who are struggling just to meet their basic needs?" she asks me. The conversation continued discussing social-political agendas of government and the influence of corporations on public policy, a comparison of Scandinavian counties with much lower levels of poverty, and a smaller gap between the rich and the poor, etc.










As is normal during party conversations, we went our separate ways shortly to mingle with others.

Really, I stayed in my corner, and she move on.  In solitude once again, observing the guests, I started thinking about good old Canadian social democracy politics.  Here is the Conundrum.  Perhaps dialectic, or conflict would be better.  But as a society, we, the people want more money, to make more money, to spend more money, to live in bigger houses, wear fancier clothes, have more toys, etc.  But we also want that for others.  Sometimes we feel guilty that others do not have what we have.  We recognize that there is a very distinct discrepancy of wealth in our country, and recognize the contradiction that some, many really, can live in extreme poverty, while many other can live in extreme wealth.  We donate money to charities, we talk about the poor and criticize some government ministry/department as being part of the problem.

But do we talk about a solution?  A real solution?
That's probably a topic for another post....

Joan Jett Barbie!

My daughter (3) wants Barbies for christmas.  Krap.  What am I to do.  Before I had kids, the decision was easy: "My kids will never have Barbies!"  "No Barbies in my house!"
Now, it is not so easy.

It's not so much "Barbie" I detest, but what Barbie represents.  Unrealistic body image, subservient women, focus on fashion, not function, etc.  A toy industry that as part of a greater capitalist society markets toys to kids with the sole purpose of selling as many as possible, and making as much money as possible, with little or no interest in constructive childhood development.

Barbie is just one part of the larger picture, though.  Through mass media, advertising, and a society as a whole that functions on the division of people and labour in order to keep afloat.

The other night my partner Jill and I were lying in bed discussing Sidney's Christmas wish of Barbies--princess Barbies no less; where did this girl come from???

At first I was arguing against Barbie, and rather surprised with Jill that we were even having this discussion, as she used to detest Barbie more than me...But a case was made:  Sidney plays with (donated) Barbies and other dolls at daycare.  To her, they are just dolls to play with.  It is our (her parents) job to help her develop a positive self-image, and to be an advocate for women's right to self-determination, as she will be bombarded with negative messages all multiple medium throughout her life.

One more point really struck home:  my son Rowan plays with the barbies at daycare, but in the storage room, as he is embarrassed to play with them in the play room.  He is only 5 and has already started to develop a sense of  stereotypical gender roles. He is starting to think that it is "wrong" to play with dolls, and is afraid some of the other kids will make fun of him, but he really enjoys playing make believe & dress-up.

My only rebuttal:  Dolls yes, Barbies no....
I would sleep on it....

The next day I get a text from Jill at work: JOAN JETT BARBIE!
Jill was at a toy store and found it.
My reply: "BUY IT!!!"

I love Joan Jett.  She is a major influential personality in the beginnings of music I love--Punk Rock.
Now some may argue that she "sold out."  Krap, 5 years ago I would have curses her name as a "sell-out".
But now, I can't wait to play with my daughter and her Joan Jett Barbie in black leather, with her guitar hanging over her shoulder.  To play some Runaways on the stereo and do some air guitar, to create a doll punk band.  To pull out my own guitar to play along, and teach my kids some of the music.

So, I caved, I sold out, whatever, my daughter will receive Barbies for Christmas.  [celebrating christmas--there is a whole other topic of conflict for another time]

But maybe in a few years, her barbies will have purple mohawks, safety-pin piercings, anarchy tattoos, and Sidney will be having a make-believe women's rights protest in our living room, demanding abortion on demand, equal pay for equal work, subsidized daycare, and repreentative unions!

Happy Holidays,
Devo

Kindergarten Christmas Concert

Went to Rowan's christmas concert this afternoon.  What a blast!
The class lost three days of rehearsal due to the snow days that started our week.

That being said, it was a hit. Damn these kids are cute.
Rowan is hilarious.  Very tentative.  A little stage fright by the look on his face.
Once the music started and he started singing, though, he loosened up--well, a little bit at least.

After the concert there was a reception in the gym--coffee, baked goods, juice for the kids.
I think the kids enjoyed this more than the singing--running around with their friends, eating treats, etc.