RambleMan

I Don’t Want To Share Your Brussel Sprouts

Crash. Boom. Slurp. Crunch. Slam. Yell. Gnaw. Snort. Fart. Snore. Chatter.

Do you live alone? I do…usually. The last time I had a roommate was in my early 20′s – so we’re talking probably about a decade since I’ve had to consider other people in my living environment, or not get things my way.

Let me preface this by saying that I love my parents. See where this is going? I know that I am the interruption in their house, regular schedule and lives. I know that they’re tolerating me much more than I am tolerating them. I know that. That doesn’t make it any easier.

This evening we watched Life As A House. My uncle down the road had the DVD, so we borrowed it and I played it from my computer to their TV (I must say that the whole S-Video thing is very cool). Very good movie. I definitely recommend it to anyone who has a family and functioning tear ducts. It stars Hayden Christensen in a pretty lead-type role, though the “star” is Kevin Kline – who does an amazing job. The yellow sticker-type advertising thing on the front of the DVD case pushes the movie as “starring Hayden Christensen from Star Wars 2 – Attack Of The Clones”.

ANYWAY (tangents are my favourite thing), prior to the movie starting I closed all of the blinds, turned off all glare-producing lights, angled the TV so it would provide the best viewing angle for everybody watching, trying to set a good movie watching atmosphere. Part way into the film, at a critical spot, of course, my dad decided to get up and offer to make popcorn. I love him. He thinks of others. It drove me nuts. The acoustics of their main room are horrid – if anybody is talking it drowns out the TV, stereo, piano, etc. We plowed through that 10 minutes in the movie with my dad banging dishes around in the kitchen, the sound of popcorn popping in the microwave, my dad eating something…loudly.

I think I’m just irritable and know that it’s time for me to leave. Monday is my last day here – we drive out of here at 4:00 am so I can be at the airport in Ottawa by 6:00 am for my 8:00 am flight. These things always get on my nerves when I visit my parents…they did growing up as well, even when I didn’t live by myself. I eat quite quietly and slowly. I generally don’t talk during movies or TV shows. Sure, I live alone and don’t have anybody to talk to, but what has that got to do with it? I’m generally, in my mind, anyway, a quiet person. I frequently walk up behind people at work, not in any way trying to sneak up and they are shocked to see me standing there when they turn around saying “Where did you come from? You’re so quiet!” I’m venting…this doesn’t have to make sense or come together in a neat package!

I remember wondering a few years ago how married people do it. Not THAT “it” – I know how they “do it” do it! What I mean is the whole co-existing thing. I’m thinking I must be an extremely selfish person because I don’t think I could handle leaving some ice cream in the freezer for later (yeah…that’d happen!) and when I come back for it…ice cream being the only thing I need right now to continue functioning on this planet, and it’s gone! GONE! Who would take it? Your loving wife, of course! For a brief moment it would flash through my brain how well it worked in college when my roommate and I had divided the fridge into two sides so we didn’t write things on the food itself. Could I convince my wife…whom I’ve sworn to love “in good times and bad” not to eat my cookies? Yes…MY cookies. I wrote my name on them with my imaginary marker when I put them in the cart in the grocery store. I didn’t say “LET’S get some cookies”. You don’t see me delving into her brussel sprouts, milk or pickles! ARGH! Clearly this is one of the “and bad” they were talking about when marriage vows were written.

Theoretically, I’m in love with this person and that “in love” feeling will make everything else not matter. “Living on love” is a phrase I’ve heard used many times to describe couples that are new to their in-love state and they seem obvious to any hardships thrown their way…nothing happens, because they’re in love. I’ll probably think it’s ‘sweet’ that she likes the same types of cookies or ice cream that I like and consciously buy more…for her. If she speaks during a movie, I’ll probably ignore the story and plot and $12 that I spent to get in and focus on what she thinks is so important to say to me right then…then tell her I love her for it.

That’s what it all comes down to. I know that. Love. My parents tolerate me, I tolerate them, we accept our friends and families’ foibles because we love them. We know that at the end of the day, we can count on them to be there “in good times and bad” even if we haven’t walked down an aisle with them or bought them a pretty rock to wear on their finger.

I’ll miss my parents when I leave for Calgary on Tuesday, the next and final leg of my holiday. They’re wonderful people that I do feel honoured to be related to. Life is not always rosy, but there’s an inner feeling that you know no matter what happens, they’ll be there. I’m also looking forward to watching TV by myself.

Adios, Ontario.

Charles

Bad News – Good News

Tomorrow is July 30th – almost the last day of the month. It’s hard to believe that RambleMan has existed for a month already. I’ve been writing for years so it feels, in some ways that it’s been around a lot longer – I’ve just started sharing it with the world in the last 30 days. Thank you all again for coming along for the ride. I anticipate it can’t go anywhere but well…forward.

I have good and bad news that I’m trying to balance out in this ramble. Whenever someone faces me with “I have good news and I have bad news, which would you like to hear first?” I always pick the bad news so that at the end of our conversation I don’t feel so down. Let’s start with the bad news.

I received word that the high school friend whom I told you about it my July 4 and July 8 rambles passed away on Friday, July 26th in Edmonton, Alberta. Glenna would’ve been around my age – her early 30′s. The photo at right is of Glenna in our high school days. I don’t believe she was married or had kids, or at least nobody has said anything about them if she did. In the end, I think she was blessed to have her family and close friends around her throughout the ordeal. Everybody feels comfort in knowing they had a chance to see her and share their thoughts and prayers with her. I told my grad class in a late Saturday night e-mail about her passing and have heard back from a couple thanking me for continuing to provide them updates as well as having provided them the opportunity to write to her and her family, letting them know that they were in our prayers. Glenna passed away on my brother’s birthday. From this year on, every year on his birthday, a part of me will think of Glenna and remind me how fortunate I – we really are.

A strange segue here could be to tell you that I continue my readings and work on my intuitive and psychic abilities. I can tell you without question that something visited me on Friday night, waking me enough to feel its presence. At the time I wasn’t aware of Glenna’s passing, nor did I feel prepared to deal with whatever was happening. I chose to request whatever it was to please leave me until the following day when I would be more conscious and aware. The next day I got the news of her passing. I don’t suggest they’re connected. I do feel like I’m making progress in my endeavours, though.

Alright…the good news. You may notice that I pimp a friend’s online journal from time-to-time, as she does the same for me. Tomorrow – July 30 is a celebratory date in my circles. It has been declared Nicolamas. Nicky turns the dark old age of 31 tomorrow. If you’re thinking about buying Nicky a gift, she conveniently builds a “wish list” on her frequent drooling trips to Amazon.co.uk. She claims that she doesn’t want anything, but also ensures she gives us at least a 30-day countdown to her annual celebration.

So, happy birthday, Nicky. I know you’ll celebrate in style, ensure everybody in your office knows the significance of the day and buys you drinks after work.

To quote the reason for the season herself, “there is always wine”.

Cheers to a long & happy life!

Charles

It’s All About Me

For the longest time as a teenager, and then early adulthood I had this theory that time began when I was born.

I’m not self-centered…okay, maybe I am, but really, for a kid, doesn’t the world revolve around them? In this week that I’ve been visiting my parents I’ve been appreciating very much what they did for me as a child. The simple magical thing called dinner is amazing. When I’m at home alone, like every other single person on the planet, if I don’t cook, or go out for dinner, or order in, there is no food. At my parents house, ’round about the same time every day, food magically appears on the table. I don’t even have to think about what I might want to eat, shop, cook, think – anything!

I was born in 1969 – November of 1969. When in conversations about age I tell people that I was alive for a tiny bit of the 60′s, so I can in some way relate to the whole drugged-out, free-love thing that we all associate with the 60′s. 1969 had Woodstock. 1969 had the first moon landing. 1969 had my birth. It was quite an eventful year!

If I was to get into a conversation with someone about something that happened before I was born, it was “before time began”. What I find funny about this now, is that I am now fascinated by history. I love researching and ‘discovering’ history on my own. I’ve never been one to be taught anything…I have to learn it on my own for it to really matter. I’m the same way for life lessons. Although people have tried to make my life easier for me by sharing their life’s lessons, I ignore them and have to go through it all myself for it to mean anything to me.

So…this entry, as you can tell is all about me. I’ve mentioned that I found some photos of me when I was a child during this trip to my parents. I thought I’d share them with you. The first one, at right, is me at about 2 years old wearing the lederhosen that we bought when we were living in Germany. My older brother was sitting to my left, but I cut him out of the photo because this entry isn’t called “let me share the spotlight”. The photo was, I’m told, taken by my Uncle Jim, with us sitting on the stairs of my grandparents house in Ottawa. The house has been sold, the grandparents are dead – this photo is all that remains capturing that day.

At left is my favourite photo of me. It was taken by the same uncle when I was 8 months old, right here at the lake I’m visiting my parents at. My family moved back to Canada when I was 8 months old. I imagine this is one of the first places we came as it was the hub of my mom’s family at the time. This photo was taken in July of 1970. Aren’t I cute?

This brings us to today. I’m not a photogenic person. I weigh more than I should and cameras tend to focus on that, in my opinion. I’m sure if I was rich and could hire a professional photographer to pose me in all sorts of unnatural ways and then use an airbrush thing to make me look better, I’d probably do that. I can imagine sending people those photos – here’s a photo of me looking absolutely nothing like what I look like! Don’t you feel closer to me already?

To make this entry complete, though, I thought I should go take a picture of myself. Keep in mind all the things you would say if you were sharing a horrid photo of yourself with the world – bad day, haven’t shaven, was being attacked by armadillos, etc. Here’s your first glimpse at what Charles looks like in real life. Don’t scream too loudly when you run away – it might wake the neighbours.

Thanks for visiting.

Charles

Porn Is For Speed Demons

Of COURSE I’m not looking at porn on the internet! Who do you think I am? I don’t do things like that!

Okay, I’m thrilled to have internet service while visiting my parents…don’t get me wrong. I really don’t mean for this to sound like a complaining post, but more of an observational one.

I’m managing to connect at a whopping 26.4 Kbps. I believe their ISP supports up to 56 Kpbs. My internal mode, I’d imagine is that, considering it’s new. For ages they’ve had a 33.6 in their own system and my brother, my computer guru has advised them not to upgrade to a 56 because they’re not coming anywhere near 33.6, let alone worrying about anything higher.

My parents think the speed issue is that their phones lines are from the 1940′s. They also say that when it rains, they’re lucky to get ANY internet connection and that for a few days, even speaking on the telephone lines isn’t great – all crackly and such. I don’t believe a call to the phone company will fix anything, either…the lines are buried and from before either of them were born. What is the phone company going to do? Replace the lines? Not bloody likely.

So…I sign on to the internet once, maybe twice a day to retrieve e-mail and try to keep up on my regular sites. I didn’t think that I was visiting any graphic intensive sites until just now…and I still don’t think they’re THAT intensive. I read my regular news from www.canoe.ca. It’s a Canadian news source. It gives me world news, entertainment, sports, stocks, etc. with a Canadian slant. I like Canoe. I didn’t really notice how many pictures come up on their site until today. There’s a photo or two to accompany almost every news story and on the main page – watch out – they’re selling the news stories with pictures!

I sit…I wait while basic information is download. I decide to check my e-mail while I’m waiting…oh God, that slows it all down even more. Sigh. I was downloading a PDF file – 700 odd K earlier this evening – an instruction manual for my parents’ television set because I can’t get the S-Video to work coming from the ThinkPad in order to watch a DVD. Anyway…that download took 10 minutes. 10 MINUTES! Imagine how much porn you could download in 10 minutes with a cable or other high-speed connection!

This connection works for my parents – they’re happy with it because it’s all that’s available and really, they don’t need much more. Sure, speed would be nice for them to have, but I doubt it would make that much of a difference in their lives. They simply accept that if they’re uploading photos that they’ve taken of people visiting, current construction projects or whatever, that they have to walk away and make dinner or go for a swim in the lake or something while it does it’s job. They’re retired. Things move at a slower pace.

Meanwhile, I’m probably going to be checking my news online less and maybe – get this – reading the morning paper they have delivered. It’s printed on paper with ink and you have to physically turn pages…how archaic. Maybe I’ll turn on the TV and try to find a news station in the three billion channels they have. Just how many channels do you really need to have Oprah on at the same time?

If anybody around here is addicted to internet porn, I wish them the best of luck. Remember ASCII art? Maybe someone should start an ASCII porn site to speed it all up. Don’t tell me…you’ve already done a search for it and have found a bunch of them. Unfortunately, I can’t do that because I’m downloading another PDF manual – 1.5MB. I think the estimated time it’s given me is “cook a turkey dinner”.

Charles