Scene / Seen (Here I Stay)

This is the glowering, shrunken down black panther of a cat that lets me live in his house (for kibble).  It should be noted he is on the kitchen table---see the attitude.

Celebrate in Ireland

The votes from Ireland began to roll in and it looked like the referendum indicated that the majority of people felt the church no longer had a place in denying equal rights.  I  recalled this scene from "The West Wing," which is a wickedly witty jab at Dr Laura and groups that quote parts of the Bible, but don't follow others.  Freedom to practice religion for themselves is wonderful.  They should not expect that all others subscribe to their doctrine, especially when that means unequal protection under the law.  Harassment and discrimination has no place in a just society.  In fact, by it's very definition, it would be an oxymoron to allow such conduct to continue and then use the term "just" or "equal."  As Ireland was once very bound by the Catholic Church's dictates, this is extremely historical.

When You're Looking For Just That Special Word....

For that neighbour who chainsaws all the time, wouldn't it be wonderful to put this on and then leave the house.  Not that I'd do it, but this is what exists in the revenge fantasy in the bubble above my head.  I thought Debby Boone was bad enough.

A Positive Change at Work For Once

When I left work the other morning, there was a rainbow flag at the entrance.  I was explaining this to my buddy in the prairies, who had called to lament the sudden May snow storm that had coincided with the crash of his furnace.  "Times  have changed," I said, and I told him that the work site was actually recognizing gay staff.  It was a long time coming, especially for males.
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My friend Scott tried to  assist  one of our early "out" staff.  "L" was in trouble for something he had unwittingly done prior to being hired and was not getting any  help.  Even though Scott wasn't on the union, he stepped up to help.  We had the meeting at my house.  "L" didn't really want to push the issue, as his partner was a padre in the Military.  At that time, they would still fire people if they were gay.  Thus, "L" ended up losing his job.  Since that time, the Armed Forces has come to their senses and changed their policy. A lot of the people I worked with at that time had transferred over from the military.   I used to have discussions with many of my coworkers and they would argue that they didn't want to think about it---that they would worry in the foxholes about somebody's sexuality.  Sorry.  I can't imagine if the attack is happening that anybody is going to be checking you out.
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When I was a student I had a summer job with the R.C.M.P. as a Supernumerary Special Constable.  It was an interesting experience as I looked fifteen and had to wear a uniform.  There were only three women in the detachment, so everybody stared at me. I met wonderful people and I learned a lot.  I am forever grateful and I mean to write about it.  I did a research study that was written up in the local paper.   There was a very invasive background check, but I didn't have the  experience that one of the women did.  I could tell by her expression that she was upset by something;  we had classes together and I knew her.  I asked her what was going on.  She told me that the interviewer had asked her outright if she was "a lesbian"---his actual words.  I wasn't asked that because I had long blond hair, after all. She had short hair, so he must have had some gender stereotype in his head.  She had a boyfriend and he was really off the mark, by the way.    I should add that at this point it was legal for the RCMP to not only ask this question but to discriminate and not hire people if they answered "yes" to that question.  Need I remind people that this was for a summer job?  They also refused to hire people to be full time staff until somebody took them to court.  What was their logic?  One of my friends who has a great sense of humour suggested that back in the l950's when these guys were born  it was perhaps  thought that the stereotypical  limp wrist meant they couldn't fire a gun.  Just like women couldn't chase bad guys in high heals holding a cookie tray.
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Ironically, there are jobs that almost  concede that a woman has to be gay.  After all, why else would she want to work in a man's job.  I know that I was asked that question.  My response was that I worked there for the same reason that men did---money.  No;  I did not hate men.  No---I did not have power and control issues.  No---I did not have anything to prove.  My sexuality was not anybody's business.  I wasn't here to date anybody.  I was here to earn a living wage, just like they were (now leave me the f@#k alone, thank you very much).
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When people go on  about "unions"  and how there's no need for them, I look back on my experience.  There's way more that I could write about, and I will at some point.  If it weren't for them, that rainbow flag would not be at the entrance of my work site.  There would be no gay staff.  They certainly wouldn't be entitled to take off a bereavement day when their partner died.  I am well aware there's many people who feel that there shouldn't be any gay staff, but they've always been there.  They've always done a good job.  They've never demanded special rights.  They've only wanted the same benefits that straights have had that they've had to pay into.
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I blogged about my wise eighty year old father who pulled me aside and he said, "I don't care who people love, I only care that they are good people."  I miss you Dad.

Another book blurb

Since I can't sleep, I will repost this Youtube video for this book, put out by Damnation Publishing.  It's a werewolf tail/tale.  Mark is an interesting and talented individual who has appeared on the Canadian version of "No Opportunity Wasted."  By clicking on the video, you will find more information on that.  It was made a number of years ago.  Since that time, he has published the novel he spoke of.  He has also posted some videos of train travel      Here is his actual site:  .http://markfusonhorror.com/

I encourage you to have a look at it.

Another Photo Montage

Quebec City Memories

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Here's another photo album that Picassa put together from my photos of my trip to quebec City last year.  I love that town and there is always some hidden treat.  If you've never gone, please try to see it.  They speak English and a person will find that there is something for every taste.

A Very Long Fountain

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This place is closed and will probably be sold so that they can build houses on it---big surprise.

A waterfall, a wetland and a cat....

This was made by Picassa and I'm sharing.

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I wanted to post the entire thing here, but I can't.  I guess if I was more proficient with computers  I could.  I admit I'm shirking the cleaning of the liter box duties.  One of the cats is missing and it gets ugly....fast.  They (Google)  also created a couple of other scenes, but since they contain images of people I was on vacation with, I can't (or won't)  post them.

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Just click on the link and it will take you to my Google site.  Here's a brief explanation as to the name.  I wanted a gender neutral name, as I like to comment on sites about trains and history.  Sid Finster was a character in a book and there's a joke behind it.  Years ago,   we had an open mail box at work and my friend Scott and I knew that people liked to snoop.  So, we contrived to make fake reports that "Sid" wrote.  We had a history which involved Sid transferring from a facility back east.  Sid was a diligent employee and put in lots of reports.  For several months, Sid received notices from clerks "up top" in his mailbox as well as union postings, which had his name on it.  I brought in magazines that I left in Sid's box, as Sid liked to read on his lunch break.  I even left a few snacks for him to munch on.

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Alas, we came to work one day and noticed that poor Sid had his name unduly ripped off.  He was gone...never to be mentioned again.  All of his paper work had been removed.  Just like that, he had vanished.   Poor Sid, there was no grievance process for him.   Should anybody read the wonderful book "Whatever Happened to the Class of 65" you will notice that we replicated the character on something that took place in the book.  I highly recommend this study of the sixties, which is a factual account of that era.

To Our Enemies

 

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I've mentioned my friend before and provided a link to his blog.  As I type this, he is on a long flight back to Russia, where he has spent the past year (with a three month sojourn in Thailand).  While I admit that I miss him, I am really glad that he's at last met the person who completes him.   That may sound like a cliche, but I've never seen him so happy.  He took a risk;  he went to a place where he could not speak the language, where the political situation was being portrayed as unstable and gave up a good income.  He doesn't regret it.

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Several of us got together the other night.  Another friend also happened to be in town from the other side of the country.    It was an interesting mix of people.  We differ in ages.  Some of us are the bosses of the others and there was a diversity in accents.  Had anybody asked, people could speak English, Russian, Hebrew and Georgian.    Several toasts were made over the course of the evening, one to our enemies.  Some of us might be hot and some (me)  not and we sit in different places on the rainbow flag---yet---we all have each others' backs and care  for each other.

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My friend, Scott, has yet to be ripped off as he makes his way through daily life in Russia.  He has met and written about the people in his area.  It's sad that we've never had connection so simple, but stereotypes persist.  I've lamented the lost art of debate.  People have differing points of view and there's nothing wrong with that---they always have.  However, they didn't automatically call their opponent a perjorative in response.  Rather, they would offer up why they disagreed.  I guess certain topics just attract the trolls and stupid people have nothing to offer as an argument except to call a person "fat" or a "fag."

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There is nothing inherently wrong in being ignorant or racist---it's a shortcoming in how one was taught.  What is wrong is if a person acts on it.  An individual may have thoughts that they know are wrong and work to overcome them.  If they still treat others with respect, it shows that they are making an attempt.  Keep the bad thoughts within that silent bubble of ones head while the issue gets resolved.  Strive to understand why it's there.  Was it religion?  Racist parents?  Fear?
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I don't know how a girl locked in an attic for years had the compassion and wisdom to understand it, but she saw beyond her walls.  She saw into the future and that there was hope for others.  In spite of  the evil that a few people did, not everybody was the same way.  "Despite everything, I believe that people are good at heart," Anne Frank  wrote.  So yes, as my friend toasted...."To our enemies."

 

Not Immune from the Auto-Immune

Never under estimate how bad Microsoft can suck.  I am redoing the blog as it disappeared.  It initially kept formatting  with lines under the entire piece and I couldn't correct it.  When I backspaced...it was just gone.

I suspect we've all had an experience with a dog that's done something wrong.    It's evident as soon as we enter the room that the animal is guilty, for the tail is tucked into a U curve, and the eyes are downcast.  Much like the guilty dog, our body betrays our emotions.
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When my father died a few years ago, it began a succession of events that dropped like bad jokes at the office party.  My mother suffered from some health crises immediately after.  My vehicle conked out one morning of a long weekend Sunday and I had to work that night.  I had to put down a beloved cat.  I had to get checked for HIV and Hep C after a workplace exposure to blood products.  Ironically, I'd had a flat response to much of it.  What finally got me was an administrative work issue.
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My body rebelled and I, the person who has never taken antibiotics and other then migraines, never gets sick.  I awoke one day to find that I had shingles.  I have a high pain tolerence, but my doctor signed me off work for a week as I was highly contagious.  I know others who have had similar maladies befall them.  Like me, one of my male coworkers got shingles, but took much longer off.  Others have suddenly been stricken with gout.  One ended up with some sort of immune system disorder that effects her liver.  More have breathing issues that can't be pinned down.  It seems that when stressful situations happen and we go on auto-pilot to cope with them or to be stoic, we may end up paying for it later.    Like the water flowing in Niagra, that energy will out and there's no way to stop it.  I took my first vacation in ages and things felt better for a short while.
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I suspect I'm headed for a fall again.  I'll perform my ritual of taking several Gravol as soon as I get home, but sleep eludes me.  In the past two weeks, my mother has been admitted to the hospital twice.  I've taken two cats to the vet.  Iroginically, I displayed my usual placid response.  I lost my nut, though, to the same thing that triggered me years ago....a workplace administrative issue.  Oh---and the telemarketers .
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It's ironic that we retreat from people when it would most serve us.  Therefore, I'm going to try to force myself to write and to walk; anything to keep the balls juggled for a while longer.

The Dot Chronicles

Yes, that's Dot lurking in an old poster I made.   The vet called the other day with the results of her biopsy and as I knew, the mass was malignant.  However, I was told it's a slow progressing type and not the sort that is apt to spread to other organs.  It will occur, but it will do so slowly.  She isn't in pain.  I asked how it was possible for it to have grown in a couple of hours and was told that it IS NOT.  What most likely took place is this....the mass was growing inside her nose.  Dot had a cold and when she sneezed, it caused the tumour to protrude and become visible.  I'd not heard her suffer from breathing issues, though.
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Scene / Seen (Driving Home in the Storm)

I had to drive some distance yesterday to see a neurologist.  It was one of those days when the weather was all over.  There was hail and an absolute deluge when I turned off the Trans-Canada Freeway.  I took a detour to visit my mother and on my return home, the sky took on an unusual caste.  I've often mention my regret at not being able to paint, as I so want to capture this light.  However, even though I was really moving, I grabbed my camera with one hand and pointed and clicked without taking stock of direction.

Yes, that is new snow on the mountain.

Somebody Probably Lost this Film on Purpose...but it's wonderful! "Nocturna: Granddaughter of Dracula."

.This needs an art-house revival because there's so many ways to have fun with it.   "Nocturna:   Granddaughter of Dracula" came out in 1979.  There had been a resurgence of interest at the time in all things blood-sucking.  Steven King's take on the  vampire legend had sold astronomically well and inspired the  made-for-television mini-series/movie  "Salem's Lot."  Frank Langella, a fine actor, was absolutely hot that summer in Dracula and as a lead up to the film's release, the literary classic was re-issued with stills from the feature.  I know this as I managed to get a copy of that book (and there's a story about a missed plane connection in Edmonton as a result, but I digress).  A short time prior to this, the story had been updated in the wonderful comedy "Love at First Bite."

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I suspect what this movie wanted to do was capitalize on this and combine it with disco.  There's no need to mention the darkness inspired by Saturday Night Fever (Roller Disco films, anybody)?  In this movie, the granddaughter of Dracula encounters a musical group who is playing at the family's hotel...yes, The Count has fallen on hard times and has to take in guests.  After being encouraged to get up and boogie with the lead singer, Nocturna discovers that she can see her reflection in the mirrored lustre of Transylvania's take on Studio 54.  She begins to feel....human!  Why anybody would want to start aging is beyond me, but Nocturna wants that.  And our lusty male lead.

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What's surprising is the soundtrack, which is where I am sure this upload will meet its downfall.  It features seventies disco stars such as Gloria Gaynor and Vicky Sue Robinson, so some studio executive is certainly going to whine about copyright.  It also has tracks by Moment of Truth, which was a classic example of the Philly Disco sound.

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Ah, the possibilities for a Halloween/Disco/Goth dressup ball to coincide with watching the film!
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BTW---up yours spell correct.  I want to type "Nocturna."  I don't need your nanny state filling in the word "nocturnal."

Scene / Seen (Fake Owl Fail)

They kept landing.

The Finger

(The photo is of my friend's cat, The Piker, who is much missed.  He had a good run.  This picture was taken when I cat-sat him and I blogged about the incident at the time).
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What's with "the finger" these days?  I'm not talking about the one digit one; no, I'm speaking of its usage by (mostly) women who are trying to make a point.  When and how did this become a thing?  Imagine if you will, Audrey Hepburn emoting a scene in Sabrina when suddenly, she raises her hand and sticks out the finger towards Bogie.  It just wouldn't be the same.  It especially would lack any level of finesse if that index finger had a nail on it that was decorated with more do-dads then my Christmas tree.  A finger nail should not resemble anything that you spot at The Pride Parade.
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You don't have to go too far back to realize that people could make a point without waving their hands all over.  Why the need to emulate a pair of banty roosters scrapping over corn or a hen?  Did people watch one too many episodes of Maury and think that Emily Post had to go?  I guess a lot of it comes from reality television.  The so called classy housewives use the finger more then a spastic street mime.  I think I made it through the entire run of  "The Miracle Worker" and didn't see that many hand signals.
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I've taken workshops on "How to Deal with Difficult People" and it stresses that one does not step forward to settle a disagreement.   Other workshops I've attended have taught me well that you need to maintain a specific distance between your opponent in order to watch their feet and hands, thereby being able to defend yourself or wallop them, should the need arise.
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The finger really irks me...it's a pet peeve.  When I see anybody flicking it out I keep hoping that the other party snaps it back.  Wouldn't that make for superb television?
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I remember some course I took in university wherein the professor told us of his experiences in The East.  He said that business people had to learn to curtail using their hands and being loud as it was off putting to the clients.  I wonder what he'd say now, given the finger?  I guess it's just another sign of the decline of Western Civilization as we know it.

Found Item: The "Help Susan Contest" in Tiger Beat

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I read that the actress who once played Tracy Partridge died a few days ago.  Here's some Partridge memorabilia.

Scene / Seen (Bobby Riggs in Victoria)

We were on a school field trip to see the provincial capital when we spotted Bobby Riggs playing tennis in front of the Empress Hotel.  I snapped this photo with my little kiddie camera.