Tim Lawrence SBGH Angel

Finding Christmas

Under the heading "you can find Christmas Spirit on any day of the year, if it doesn't find you first!"

As the proud "elder statesman" of the Housekeeping dept. at St. Boniface - and one unencumbered by shyness or a lack of good English communication skills - I have always made a point of greeting new faces with a hearty "Welcome to St. Boniface Hospital" or "Congratulations on your new job here in Housekeeping".

The responses are for the most part quite positive - English is not often a strength for many new hires - and if the message, is not completely understood, the friendliness and sincerity of the hulking and happy messenger certainly is.

When you add my "Ambassadorial" role to my other unofficial duties such as "joker of the day", "Senior Mr. Know it all", "poet in residence" and "positivity consultant" etc. , it's not hard to imagine that the "back nine" of my career at Good old St. B. has become about as enjoyable a "job" as anyone in my circumstance could really hope for.

And if you were looking for something specific, look no further than yesterday....

A young fellow I had "welcomed" a few years ago has always made a point of returning that small favour by always saying hello and asking how things were going.

The joke between us has sort of been that he's checking to see if I remember his name because it took me several months to finally lock his into my memory. ( I know thousands of people by name but unless I see them every day it's hard to process "new" ones ).

Anyway, yesterday Peter approaches me in the office where we're getting our keys at the start of shift and says, "Hey Tim, I was cleaning my locker a few weeks ago and I found that Christmas poem you wrote. I've got it on my wall at home now" he added.

"That one, " I replied wondering to which one of several he might be referring, " that poem was pretty good...I always get good reviews from people for that," I said.

Then out of the blue I realize the poem he means is the one with the first line, "C is for the CHILD of God...", because he next tells me that "...the girl I'm engaged to marry this year is a Christian and I must admit that a lot of her beliefs are starting to rub off on me."

"Well that's fantastic !", I told the grinning young man adding, "God Bless the both of you, you'll be very happy !".

"Thanks Tim, it's going to be quite a step," Peter said.

Seizing my newest duty as the department's "Spiritual Advisor" with great enthusiasm, I was instantly inspired to add, "Life is a challenging series of forks in the road and important choices you have to make Peter. With God in your corner, Life itself is easier...the choices are easier because you KNOW in your heart the difference between right and wrong and you will both eventually always make the decisions that are the right ones".

"That's very true," he said "Thank you".

"That's just great Peter," I said and since it was time to get to work I added a "God Bless You" and headed off to begin my actual job...."shining the old place up like a NEW PENNY" ...as I have been know to say.

* I hope this leaves you with a smile today and a reminder of what I've told many friends and family about the disappointing lack of "traditions" this past Christmas. The SPIRIT of love, sharing, forgiveness and hope does not begin and end around a tree in late December. It should, and can be the essence of a well lived every day life - blessed and guided by the Good Lord.

Have a wonderful day....(Merry Christmas !)

stay safe, strong and happy, love Tim xo (5733)

 

Dear Mothers Everywhere

Dear Mom, Thank You

Like a map without directions

or a boat without a rudder

life might be rather aimless

were it not for all our Mothers

Like a bird without feathers

or a loner without a pal

a Mom is warming company

she's really quite a gal

Like a world without colour

or a flower without smell

a Mom is surely magical

Hues and fragrance are her spell

Like a hit show needs a star

and a musical needs a song

a Mother adds an element

to a Life that can't go wrong

Like the sold ground beneath us

rightly known as Mother Earth

her love is our foundation

just a smile confirms our worth

Like the need for second chances

when we sometimes stray from right

as God's forgiving angel

Mom will lead us to the light

Like the timely voice of reason

a bell of truth and reality

Moms speak of what we NEED to know

to surely set us free

Like Princes and Princesses

we are born to royalty

For Mom's the most beloved Queen

the world has ever seen

Like a few drops in an ocean

a couple notes of a symphony

a single day cannot encompass

the love of Mom in its' entirety

Tim 4365

Happy Easter!

An Easter Perspective

If one were to count their blessings

weigh the good against the bad

a somewhat surprising rout occurs

which eradicates the sad

Like a flu that comes on one day

and lays you down quite low

we sometimes lose our focus

of the better health we know

Like a long and bitter Winter

that chills you to the bone

warm thought a distant memory

Though Spring be nearly home

Like a fractured loving heart

can feel so permanently lost

we can sometime feel suspended

nailed in misery to a cross

Like our unmet expectations

seem at first a crushing blow

we forget what lays ahead of us

many hopeful miles to go

Like the celebration of Easter

marks our Savior's dying strife

upon His list of blessings

was the promise of new life

Like His resurrection

is love in our life fulfilled

although misery sometimes visits

it's only temporarily billed

Like the warming Spring at Easter

is our faithful heart's reward

we ought never fear the darkness

when our light is the Good Lord

May you ever count your blessings

and remember Jesus' gift

at Easter and on every day

your burdens will uplift

Happy Easter...Thank You Jesus

Timmy 4337

Dear God

Dear God, It's hard to put into words how wonderful it was to hear from you again and I hope you and everyone are well and things are running smoothly in Heaven. I'd add, “especially in your BUSY season” but I suppose there are no seasonal lulls in your business, given the frailty of your ever growing clientele and the evermore hazardous and challenging nature of the world in which we live? But amazingly, in spite of your torrential workload, your blessings continue to rain upon your grateful servants in wondrous ways. Which brings me to the nature of my letter today which is my humble and heartfelt gratitude. As you know I am something of a “frequent flyer” when it comes to the times in my life's journey that I needed you....injuries, afflictions addictions....and here I am today - happy, still sober ( 3950 days) and yet AGAIN, fully recovered from a fall I took two months ago that fractured my nose and jaw! Some have said, “you're lucky it wasn't worse” and I suppose you could say that about any of our missteps and mishaps, but frankly I have experienced enough of your Grace and Love and Mercy in my life that I don't think “luck” was ever involved. If I am anything I am fortunate....tremendously fortunate and BLESSED, by the community of Faith who are my friends and family ( and their friends ) who by their loving prayers of hope and strength on my behalf have brought your healing light and mercy into my life yet again. God... I don't even know and might not ever meet many of the people who prayed for me in the last few months but it is MY turn now to humbly offer a prayer of thanks and my continued promise to you Lord to live my renewed life in grateful service always in your sight. May they come to believe as I surely do, that miracles happen. May they find as I have found, a miracle in each day's dawning. May they discover as I have, the miraculous joy of recovery and fulfillment. Thank you God, for the POWER of Prayer...the STRENGTH of Faith....the BEAUTY of Love and Mercy. Yours Truly, Timothy Lawrence p.s. I also add a small wish of Christian“sure-footedness” to any and all whose path is sometimes ICY!

"Janet's Gang" Palliative Care Reunion '14

I stopped some time ago questioning the whys and wherefores of my life's amazing journey, having concluded that things happen for a reason and do so in their own good time. You could say I've become a fervent practitioner of “swimming WITH the flow”, enjoying the view, and accepting all that the river of life has to offer. And oh yes, I would be greatly remiss if I didn't mention the accompanying knowledge that no matter the terrain we traverse – uphill or down....rocky or smooth....a dark path or a sunlit road – the days themselves are issued in increments of one at a time. One of my favourite quotes is from a Sanskrit proverb and it reads..... “ For yesterday is but a dream, And tomorrow is only a vision, But today, well lived, Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness And every tomorrow a vision of hope” I have been accused, in recent years of being “ridiculously happy”, “chronically cheerful” and even “terminally optimistic”, charges I dare to joyfully plead guilty beyond all doubt. Now keep in mind, I was NEVER a particularly depressed or morose person who suddenly had an epiphany of new found “joie de vivre”. I was always as generally happy and well rounded as anyone else...you'd have to say “blessed” really – a large loving family, good hard-working Christian folks, the eldest of seven... no serious illnesses or tragedy to speak of. Like anyone else outside of health care, the idea of death and dying was a mere concept; a fleeting unknown and far off fear. But then, when the course of fate brought me to work on Palliative Care, was when my journey; in a most amazing place became, truly amazing. I had some skills and abilities and a good compassionate upbringing but under the none too strict tutelage of my dear friend Janet Banks and her staff of nurses, doctors, practitioners, support staff, clergy and of course patients and families....all too many to name and most I consider “Saints” in the truest sense of the word, I learned a very great deal about death and dying, and a good deal more about life and living. The years I spent with many of you – and again not questioning “why” or “how”- were some of the proudest of my life. I learned lessons that will never cease to teach I witnessed human compassion in its' purest form I discovered the power of Hope and the fulfilment of Faith I found a new appreciation for the beauty, frailty and finality of life I experienced beauty that will ever adorn my fondest dreams I shared some very challenging and emotional experiences with some of the most genuinely wonderful people I will ever meet in my life and I am a better man for it. Many of you have witnessed the words that have been inspired in me....they continue to flow to this day..... Lessons in Care by Tim Lawrence What light so brilliant, even as it dims casts aside the shadows of grief with fond remembrance What faith so strong, as one who has lived well and faithful and welcomes the Lord with open arms What devotion so sweet than a spouse who sees not the ravages but only the beauty they vowed to love What courage so amazing that forbids tears to blemish the serenity of a single moment What gift more precious to the poor of spirit than the richness of dignity What gratitude so cherished than the gift of trust and mutual respect What regret more devastating than a dream not dared as opposed to one unfinished What sights some ought not see but once viewed forever clarify our vision and fortify our perception. What limitless compassion than one sowing endless seeds of hope where none should logically take root What beauty so sublime than gentle loving hands easing pain and horrible devastation What hope thunders more loudly to the hopeless than a whisper of kindness What truer honour and privilege than to be entrusted by another to walk their last mile beside them What love, God's greatest gift, than when it is shared with those who need it most What might heaven hold when Angels of Mercy are among us tending to those at their lowest ebb What better lesson than knowing though all our time must come a lifetime of living precedes it

Life Stories by Tim Lawrence The end of life…is not! It is the end of a Chapter in a Grand, Spiritual, Novel ! These chapters called “life”, are enriching, engrossing narratives of one’s earthly adventures. In them, are an abundance of supporting characters and supplementary plot elements, often curiously overlapping and mysteriously intertwining. Their length and depth varies from person to person; from protagonist to protagonist. Some people who have “died” in chapters ended many years ago, are still quite “alive” today! Their SPIRIT; their influence, their charisma, their wisdom, their character, their enthusiasm, their joy, their ESSENCE.... continues to fill the “life pages” of all they’ve touched. Their frail and finite physical chapter is ended, but the richness of their story flourishes, and enhances God’s Novel! Like timeless passages, indelibly marked in our hearts and memories, to be re-read and forever treasured…. their lives never truly “end”! When through God’s Mercy, the earthly narrative of someone we love, ends….their life does not! And for that, we are truly blessed! * Dedicated with gratitude and love to the enduring Spirit of all who transcend fear and inspire faith by truly living God’s gift of life to the fullest!!

Hast la Vista, Blues #92

Morning Friend,

Like a deadly gunslinger in the Old West, a plotting mad terrorist or a fugitive on the F.B.I.'s most wanted list, I am to be considered "armed and dangerous".

No, I'm not carrying firearms or explosives nor am I a danger to life and limb in any sense.

I'm talking about W.M.B.D.'s baby....BIG time!!!

Weapons of Mass Blues Destruction are my formidable armaments and with my sights locked on misery, pessimism and apathy, I'm loaded for bear; or at least humans acting "bearishly"!

You wanna be grumpy and miserable like you just woke up from a lengthy hibernation that's your business, but don't get in my line of fire today cause I'll fire off a few rounds your way with deadly accuracy.

I'm packing....a smothering love, a rapier wit, a fiery lust for life and a killer charm and I'm not afraid to use them.

I am afraid that life is too short to waste in misery, too precious to squander in sadness and too valuable to take for granted.

As one blessed with the renewed vision of a second chance, and having discovered this cache of W.M.B.D.'s within my grateful heart, I now enforce a daily vendetta against the darkness of despair that once shrouded my life.

As the kids say today, "It's all good!" and when it's "really" good as it is in my case, it is imperatively and extravagantly shared.

Something as simple to implement as a warm smile is the Blues' deadly enemy.

The few seconds that it takes to administer a sincere compliment and to bask in its' accompanying gratitude slays the Blues every time.

A moment of shared laughter is fatally poisonous to the Blues.

Logging-in to a positive attitude gives the Blues short shrift and a well deserved bum's rush.

I have run into some folks that claim to be somehow content in their misery and would rather not be bothered by some "big overly happy goof".

Those ones get a double shot, WHAM-BAM!!!

Call it collateral damage?

Love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....
Love as long as you live ( overly)

Soul-stice #91

Morning Friend,

In this part of the world we are blessed with a vivid manifestation of all four of the seasons, and at this time of the year it's not uncommon to experience them all at once.

Over the course of the weekend we had a Spring melt, some Summery warmth, cool-ish Autumnal winds and some large but fleeting Wintry snowfall.

Combined with our now ever-lengthening days this is exhilarating stuff indeed, not to mention challenging...from a wardrobe standpoint at any rate.

Choosing the right scarf to match the shorts and rubber boots is like paisley and plaid; a fashion nightmare!

Luckily, as a man bereft of style ( I've been described as "pre-contemporary hobo redux"), and classless ( I bring my own sandwiches to the ballet), such matters weigh little upon my daily dalliances.

For me, if the shoe fits, and the other one does too, so what if one's a loafer and the other a high-top?

As one who has borne the brunt of another winter - which in this part of the world is a harsh and decidedly unpalatable affair - I am fiercely pleased by any conditions accompanied by temperatures warmer than minus 50.

When it finally becomes fully 60 or more degrees warmer than that, old Mr. Exuberance tends to head outside sporting next to nothing anyway.

I don't know whether "half-naked" is "IN" or not this year, I just know I'll be IN cutoffs for the FULL five months of this Summer.

Now wait a minute....did I just say FIVE months of Summer!?

Yes I believe I did and if you'll allow a logical explanation based on a little "Big Picture Thinking", your day will assume as similarly a sunny Summer sensibility as my own.

June 21st.....the longest day of the year, the beautiful sun is at the apex of its' yearly journey and the days grow shorter beginning the very next day.

By late August the days are noticeably shorter yet the sun is yet close to the earth; its' rays wonderfully strong. ( I am by then well into my second pair of cutoffs )

Tradition tells us that Summer consists of June, July and August but tradition, like fashion is for free-spirited folks to flout.

The sun today ( early April ) in relation to the earth, is equidistant from its' position on June 21st as it is in late August. ( unaccompanied by mosquitoes I might add )

Of course it doesn't feel quite like August because everything is frozen solid still and everyone's sporting a Nosferatu-esque pallor but if you doubt me, find yourself a nice spot out of the wind and lay in the sun for a few hours.

You can borrow my Hawaiian Tropic this once but I've got to watch my supply...

It's going to be a looonnng Summer!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....
Love as long as you live ( S.P.F.'d)

In Toon #90

Morning Friend,

My bank has beefed up its' internet safety by asking prearranged "security questions" in order to log on; the answers to which are known by me alone.

In the interests of today's discussion I'm going to share my answer to one of those questions...."Who was your favorite childhood superhero?".

You would of course need additional information to access the vast riches languishing in my account, but please allow me to assure you that the risks and effort involved are far more vast than the reality of my balance which, like your chance of success, is closer to zero.

The fact that I am financially sparse however, is something of a clue to the answer!

I've been methodically and earnestly chipping away at the mountain of debt accumulated over years of spending like a drunken sailor.

Now there weren't any "drunk" superheroes in my childhood but there was a sailor who was heroic in every sense of the word.

Popeye, the humble self-effacing righter of wrongs who I raced home from school every day to watch on television remains influential in my life today, not just as a security question answer, but as a relatable character of timeless heroic virtue.

The parallels are eerie to the point that the question might just as well ask "What childhood superhero do you yet emulate?"

The Sailorman and I share a love of the sea, children, and troubled ( but exotically beautiful?) women.

We both enjoy a good hearty laugh and take liberties with the English language...often porpoisely!

Check yes for "bad hair" and tobacco use although I've never fancied the corncob pipe or the nautical look.

At one with nature, taking life in stride, mending nets on bad days and sailing on good ones are the hallmarks of my colorfully animated life.

Slow to anger, bad dancing bachelors with adventure on our minds and songs in our hearts; that's Popeye and me (I?).

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm strong to the finich
Cause I eats me spinach
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man

I'm one tough gazookus
Which hates all palookas
Wot ain't on the up and square
I biffs 'em and buffs 'em
An' always outroughs 'em
An' none of 'em gets nowhere

If anyone dasses to risk me fisk
It's "boff" and its "wham", un'erstand
So, keep good behavior
That's your one life saver
With Popeye the Sailor Man.

Now let's be clear that I'm not running around punching out bad guys but I do eat a lot of spinach and if I had to I could, and probably would give Bluto a run for his money. ( after of course I've had all I can stands and I can't stands no more!)

But like a typical drunken sailor - not only would he not have any money - he would be no match for a sober one.

Cause that's all that I yam.

Love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( adventurouskly)*insert laugh

Put-ons #89

Morning Friend,

Having awoken later than I'd planned on this dull gray Monday morn, I was momentarily seized by a bout of angst the likes of which I hadn't felt since my boozing days.

Back then, a quick "sick call" to work followed by an even quicker couple of beers and all was well in my world, temporarily anyway.

These days however, minor distractions like angst, uncertainty, despair, dread and pretty much the whole gamut of self-limiting variations of fear get a caffeine-fueled boot in the arse by a man with too many reasons to be happy today and no excuses not to be.

Scoff all you want about the simple pushups and situps and cycling I do everyday, but when you are physically in "shape", you avail your mind a massively powerful and infinitely reliable machine with which to conquer the day's challenges....with style and aplomb I might add.

( and you don't look so bad trolling the boardwalk either !? )

And it is thusly at the helm of my pumped, rippled and caffeinated machine of prime physicality that I take a gander through my mental closet for something to wear today.

Let's see now....deliriously ecstatic?....no, too bold for a Monday certainly.

How about moderately giddy?....no, I think I'll save giddy for later in the week.

Extravagantly joyful?....didn't I wear that one just last week?

Oh the choices in mental fashion can be downright kerfuffling can't they?

My closet of contentment is about big enough to house 10 jumbo jets as there are about as many degrees of happiness to choose from as there are stars in the sky.

The racks and racks of dark and miserable outfits that don't fit any more I tried to give away but who wants them?

Who wants to be miserable?

Talk about a fashion faux pas extraordinaire!?.....wearing grumpy with gorgeous!? angry with hearty!? despairing with dynamic? sarcastic with svelte?

Calvin Freud would have a cat-walk quaking verklemption!

And so with a view towards humility and gratefulness for the fashion sensibility that I have been bestowed, I'm going with a demure but functional moderately joyful outfit of happy to be alive and healthy today, ( with a few light-hearted, bordering on comedic accessories).

It is the CHOICE, and the freedom to do so my friend that makes all the difference in the outlook we wear.

A bad outlook stands out worse than a bad suit.

Whether your heart is on your sleeve or not, isn't the fact that its' beat resounds with your precious and all too fragile life, reason enough to put on "something nice"?

The real Fashion Police are the people you'll interact with today and whose lives you can enrich with your spiritual haut couture.

And happiness is always in vogue.

Love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live (looking marvelous!)

Re-tread #88

Morning Friend,

Every now and then I do some designated driving duties for my friends and as one whose universe exists normally in a "how far away is it by bike" reality, the immediacy and fast pace of vehicular transport always leaves me saying, "I've got to get me one of these!".

Last weekend I drove a carload of revelers from the bar to a party halfway across town and then later after dropping everyone off at home I drove to another bar downtown to see my friend's band play until 2 after which within mere moments I was safely home.

Just a typical evening out to most folks, but to the unlimitedly patient cyclist and his limited range, it felt like a whirlwind adventure.

Such a journey never enters into the realm of two-wheeled options especially the part about the four passengers.

It's not like I haven't driven before - I used to drive all the time and everywhere, in varying states of inebriation, which is why of course I was forced to take up cycling in the first place.

It's been so long since I owned a car and drove regularly that the experience is once again novel.

And the nifty way that cars handle nowadays as opposed to the clunkering beaters I used to drive, makes it almost outer-worldly.

It's fun to drive....in many ways it's more fun than when I first drove as a nappy-headed sixteen year old, and way more fun than as an impaired 36 year old.

- I'm much more confident than I was as a fledgling driver
- I'm more competent surely than ever
- I have patience to spare which is a driver's best friend
- I am entrusted faithfully with the lives of beloved friends and family
- I appreciate the privilege as opposed to the "right" to drive
- I'm safer ( and un-stressed about being pulled over)
- I am a happier driver, because I am a happier person

I have always been fanatically ( bordering on freakishly) fond of driving so this new-found automotive ardor cannot be measured by absence alone.

Like so many other aspects of my life that have been overhauled with God as my co-pilot, the simple joy of driving a car is draped in a checkered flag of daily triumph.

The cherished freedoms I've discovered in sobriety - the range, depth and substance of traveling through life in efficient comfort - are personified by the similarly rewarding assets of a reliable automobile and apropos to one as wide of eye, broad of scope and deep of conviction as I.

How grand it is to be able to choose where I'll go and when I'll leave in the same breath as what kind of shape I'll be in when I get there!

How sublimely honorable it is to have another person put their keys, and their lives, into your hands.

While it is nicer to drive somewhere instead of walking, it's miles better than crawling.

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( on Corinthian)

Mid-Stream #87

Morning Friend,

We've all heard of the "boomers" and and the "gen x"ers and whys and wherefores and whatsits of society's ever-changing demographics.

It is our nature to all the time label things.

And that's all fine and well with a compartmentalizing kind of guy like me.

It's somehow comforting to know who and where I am especially in the dizzying splendor of this beautiful life I'm in the midst of.

Or to be more specific; the "mid" of.

No, I'm not going down "crisis alley" today my friend.

I'm schooled enough in crisis management by now to give short shrift to such trivialities as lamenting how much of my life is past in relation to Science's best guess as to how much might be left.

I sympathize with those who are genuinely saddened and unfulfilled at the so-called middle of their lives but as one who sees each day as a bonus I never thought I'd get, I just don't see the point in getting worked up about too much else.

So for the sake of numerical argument and correct product identification, it can be said that I have reached "middle age".

You'll have to forgive me if instead of a crisis I have a celebration.

Today, due to some positive lifestyle changes I implemented a few years ago - to my nieces' delight (and the consternation of the odd "fuddy-dud") - I feel like a kid!

It's not something I take for granted because I'm quite fortunate not to have seriously harmed myself over years of self-abuse.

It's not something I'm not grateful to God for because so much of what I've been given is simply miraculous.

It's not something that came natural or easy because physical well being - and even prowess - at "my age" requires an extra degree of attention to diet and exercise.

And it's not something unique to me because the overall mental, spiritual and physical condition of this demographic in society is at an all time high.

I know LOTS of people who look after themselves and are just as sharp and energetic as they were as children.

The bulbs of human life are burning brighter...longer, which has economists, social scientists and demographic labelers in a quandary.

What of this huge number of unrelentingly "youthful" and vibrant individuals turning 65 yet still "stoked" running amok in a world brimming with jobs and opportunities left by the heretofore retired or deceased?

Will "Seniors" still be an applicable moniker for a bunch of "post-hippie", "mid-grunge", "pre-rap" hooligans still partying like it's 1999....in 2025?

"Senior" from a chronological standpoint certainly but the word evokes far too much sepia-toned imagery for this new generation of geriatrics.

It seems to me this burgeoning compartment could well use a somewhat uplifting upgrade in terminology?

If I should be so lucky, if the Good Lord be willing and my flesh not weaken, as to grab even a quick bite at the Golden Years Cafe, it is my sincere wish to get the TEEN-IORS Discount!?

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( abundantly)

HOT Stuff #86

Morning Friend,

The proverbial light bulb of an idea for today's discussion came to me from an un-blanketed foot hanging over the side of my waterbed.

It wasn't a delicately painted lady's foot, for that might certainly have forestalled my creative processes significantly; from a literary standpoint at any rate.

Since the foot was at the end of my own leg and the toes felt like they were painted with frost, I assumed the fetal position while the remarkably efficient heating machine of my body warmed the errant appendage.

It didn't take long of course given the heavy quilt, and as slumber's sweet return was soon being accompanied by a grateful lullaby of gratitude for the little heater chugging along mere inches beneath me and "Teddy" , I waxed nostalgically for a moment, to a time long ago when it would have been just me, the quilt and a stuffed bear, without a heated bed.

It isn't so long ago that I have to dredge the memory banks too deeply to recall the pre-sleep ritual of frantically sliding into a cold bed and earnestly "cocooning" until shivering tremors subsided enough for the Sandman to do his work... and before his shovel is back in the pail your bed is warm as....let's just say it's ready for butter and jam!

As someone with less than a layman's understanding of exothermic reactions, metabolic processes, circulatory systems and other scientific explanations for our body's ability to produce heat, I am curiously amazed by it, ( to the point of leaping from an electronically enhanced, heated doze and into the freezing fray of Museful meandering).

Our bodies are very similar to machines, in terms of the care and maintenance they require and the incredible physiological feats they perform, like heat production.

Even while asleep, the body "furnace" emits 250 btus of heat energy - plenty enough to keep toast, and your toes warm under the blankets as it amounts to the same as curling up to a nice 75 watt light bulb.

Awake but sitting idly ( as I am on the rarest of occasions), that number increases to 400 btus or 120 watts.

Moderate exercise ( or "work" for us in the blue collar crowd) can stoke that furnace up to 650 btus ( 190 watts).

The figure for heavy exertion such as riding your bike through heavy snow ( as so happens to be one of my more challenging Winter endeavors), goes a long way towards explaining how such activity is possible in the bitter cold, and how I manage even to break a sweat when it's minus 40.

Underneath my layers of outwear is not just a finely chiseled though slightly awkward musculoskeletal marvel, but a very high-efficiency human furnace pumping out 2400 btus ( 7x100 watt light bulbs! ) of long-john stoking warmth.

Kind of makes you wish there was a stationary bike at the bus stop doesn't it? ( and hopefully someone with dainty painted toes keeping the bed warm :)

But most interesting to me in all of this was based on the fact the industry standard for furnace size is 30-35 btus per square foot.

The human body at approximately 13 square feet, thus requires about 400 btus, which I have already stated is exactly what we're equipped with.

It is ALL as I suspected.

God is a furnace man.

And my brother Gray ( the furnace man) is, a "God"!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( thermally)

Valen-whine #85

Morning Friend,

"Roses are red, Violets are..."

Blue is how many single and dateless souls are feeling today on Valentine's Day.

If you aren't single, but have forgotten that today is the year's BIG romantic event, then come on down and join me in the "blues pool"....the water is just fine, especially if you like yours icy-cold and bucket-administered.

Or I could come visit you in the dog house and we could cynically rail at the crass commercialism and shallow marketing sham of it all.

This tremendous boon for chocolatiers, florists, greeting card companies, restaurateurs, and pharmacists ( who sell more Viagra in the week leading up to today than every other week of the year), finds many bachelor-types feeling a little limp-spirited today.

Behind this mid-winter gift exchange and sharing of chemically-induced passion, is for some a sad reminder of their isolation.

The candy and chocolate hearts lining the store shelves are not broken ones.

The broken promises of yesterday have left many a mortal cardiac wound in their wake.

But as I have found along my own self-made solitary road, there is more to this day than some financially-faced affirmation of affection.

It is a none-too gentle reminder of the hard work, faith and trust and genuine commitment that goes into making "true love", true.

Unfettered and relentless, genuine love needs not of philanthropic finery nor pharmaceutical finagling.

It is natural....as natural as a....( you know!!!!)

I have basked in the warmth of love's blazing splendor but with an exhale of drunken breath did I extinguish its' flame.

My focus today and all days, isn't about not having a special someone to buy a flower for.

It's about continuing along the Good Lord's path and becoming someone special and worthy of sharing the light of true love with another.

It's about becoming a flower.

( a real one of course)

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( in bloom)

Whetherman #84

Morning Friend,

Some buffoon came walking through the locker room at work last week trumpeting the fact that the abnormally nice Spring-like weather we were enjoying - in late January! - was not going to last and more bitter cold was on the way.

Now I have patience aplenty these days...it's part and parcel of the whole "Serenity" thing.

You know, "...accept the things I cannot change...", like the weather for instance.

I get that. I might grumble a bit as I'm accepting this morning's fact that old "locker room Nostradamus" was right and therefore I'm "...changing the things I can...", like into long underwear again.

But last week, unencumbered as I was by the need for such Arctic garmentry, and more than slightly a-swoon with pre-Spring fever as a result, I could not hold my tongue.

"MUST you tarnish the beauty of this marvelous TODAY with your dire "predictions" that themselves may or may not happen?!?", I queried loudly. ( I may have included an unflattering epithet directed at the weather service if I'm not mistaken.)

"Yeah but...", the poor fellow's smugness melted as his "town crying" had obviously fallen on the wrong ears; mine.

I had just arrived from a delightfully slushy ride to work with a lungful of fragrant air instead of the usual scarf-filtered ice crystals and was in no mood for this Negative Nelly's nattering.

Part of me - the Serene part - said, "let it go Tim...he likes to hear himself talk...he's not too bright...he doesn't realize that the weather forecast is easily available to all in this technologically advanced age and that even if it weren't, nobody had put their winter coats away because of a warm spell in January...leave him be...you can't CHANGE him!".

The other part of me - the Courageous part - said "You might not be able to change the man's delusion that he's the only one of 4.000 employees who follows weather patterns, but you just may be able to clue him in on a thing or two you've discovered about the untold richness of life's silver linings and the joy of living day-to-day".

So I asked him, "Why are you telling me that it's going to turn cold again in four days? Should I just bundle up tight and wait? Is there anything I can do to prevent it?? What if I die before then? What about if it's cold but not super-cold? What about in three hundred and sixty-four days...is it going to be REALLY cold then too????".

"What about the freakishly nice gift-with-a-sunny-bow-from-God-on-it TODAY!?!", I asked.

"Well, today is just over ten months away from the Mayan calendar's end of the world," he replied.

"Going to be a cold one I imagine?", I asked.

"Wear an extra sweater," he said

"Thanks." ( Serenity now.)

love tImMy:/


Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as much as you live (patiently)

ALL Inclusive #83

Morning Friend,

I have found that the best vacation is one that takes you as far away from the humdrum of your everyday existence as possible....a "reality makeover" if you will.

This is why Winter getaways are so popular amongst us denizens of the frozen north.

Just the dramatic difference in temperature - from minus 30 to plus 30 - is enough to turn humdrums into giant kettle drums booming to the heartbeat of your magical getaway!

The "all-inclusive" option makes it even more magical because it allows one to completely eschew the minutiae of day-to-day living and to focus simply on having FUN!

If your idea of fun includes grocery shopping and cooking then your Therapist or Mental Health worker has probably already nixed the "all-inclusive" option for you. ( Your days are already "fun-filled"!?)

Being pampered and coddled in a four star tropical adult day-care setting - while decadently delightful as it is - can be exorbitantly expensive.

However if you have loving parents as I do, who don't mind "keeping house" as an economically prudent way to holiday in the Caribbean for extended Winter periods, then my friend your "Best" vacation awaits.

Welcome to Grace and Jerry's Barbados' Leisure World! ( and Timmy's Fantasy Island!)

I won't go into the Utopian wiles of Barbados.... today's Muse would take on "Michener-esque" proportions, but I will say that I have spent some ideally idyllic sabbaticals sharing room and board, and Paradise, with Mom and Dad.

"Pop"'s innate joy and skill in the kitchen combined with Mother's larder management prowess allow me - and other fortunate flown-in family members - to mindlessly luxuriate in equatorial splendor.

"Shall I go to the pool or the beach?" is the one and only pressing issue I must wrangle on any given day.

My fashion option ( now that the Speed-o is "out") is limited to a pair of shorts.

It is a hedonist's haven of:
"I am hot, I shall get wet."
"I have finished reading this book, I shall read another."
"I am tired, I shall take a nap."
"I am hungry, it is almost lunch time...good."

But the "all" in this "all-inclusive" is more than the amenities of convenience.

It is the harmony and togetherness that doesn't seem as common these days, but which has always been a tradition in our blessed family; born out of necessity in a 7 children household you might say.

It is the opportunity to share precious time and memories with those whose bond of love includes you, whose Faith in God defines you, whose dedication inspires you, and whose sense of humor encourages you.

Any time spent anywhere with the easy-going Lawrences falls easily into the category of "away from the humdrum of everyday existence".

When it so happens to be in Barbados in the Winter, you have yourself the ingredients for a very fine and remarkably inexpensive vacation that you'll cherish for a lifetime.

(So long as you don't mind taking your turn at the dishes.)

"The PLANE Boss!!!!....let's hope it's full of PAPER PLATES!!!!"

love tImMy:/
* booking now for 2012 :)

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( time sharing)

"Heaven..." #82

Morning Friend,

Feeling a little "hellish" on this fine frosty Monday?

Let's skip to 1935 shall we and take a listen to Fred Astaire "styling up" Ginger Rogers in the movie "Top Hat".

"Heaven, I'm in Heaven...and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak....".

Written by the legendary American composer Irving Berlin, it is a classic song - you may have heard pop up in contemporary movie soundtracks such as "The Green Mile" or "The English Patient"- personifying Mankind's everlasting endeavors at personifying the concept of everlasting bliss we refer to as "Heaven".

As the lyrics suggest, a dancer's vision of Paradise features a romantic spin on the dance floor with a like-minded, light-footed and fair-featured gal: "....and I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek ".

Mr. Berlin has nicely rhymed "speak, seek and cheek" and with its' delightful melody the song evokes pleasing thoughts of Earthly rapture.

This song comes into my head, a lot.

Not because I'm an "old movie" buff and not because my vision of the hereafter includes a pearly dance floor - or Ginger Rogers.

My perception of Heaven is that it's not a whole heck of a lot different than the ever-wondrous movie I've been cast in here on earth; a romantic musical-comedy about a young man, ( a poor dancer with bad hair reborn through sobriety and spirituality) whose quest for peace, love, harmony and a sweet fishing spot takes him on many a madcap and zany adventure!

The sets in this "extravaganza" are breathtakingly magnificent and the cast of thousands is replete with characters of every ilk.

Because the script places me in several divine situations and in the presence of so many angelic individuals it only stands to reason that the soundtrack should include something "after-worldly"?

You're in in this flick too my friend so sing along with me now.... the Director is cuing up another number.....

( with apologies Irving...)
"Heaven, I'm in Heaven....and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak;
though Monday's not the favorite of the week,
we're one day closer to eating pickerel cheeks!

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( Paradisiacal)

Krazy Heart #81

Happy New Year Friend,

Yesterday was only the second day of 2011 and I had what can only be described as the first "magical" moment of the New Year.

As luck would have it, it was my turn to work this past weekend and the "moment" I speak of might have passed me by were it not for the fact that I am always on high alert for distress when I am on the job.

The layman visiting a sick friend or relative at St. Boniface Hospital probably gives short shrift to the drone of the announced "codes" and pages over the intercom, but to employees they are a constant reminder that the precarious stage upon which we perform our duties features a script written seemingly by a madman on the fly.

It is drama of the highest "life and death" order really; with some mystery, plenty of surprise twists, tragedy and triumph galore, an undertone of love and romance, humor ( dark-ish?), and of course a plethora of miracles and MAGIC.

I'm now in my 29th year at the that House of Horrors and Wonder and aside from the incalculable debt of gratitude I owe the place for providing the incentive to change - and save - my life, I happen to be one the many people you will find who LOVE working there.

Yes it can be ugly....downright nasty really, and so sad your heart ends up being more Krazy Glue that actual heart tissue.

But many like I, THRIVE in that Arena of Mayhem because it is an endless source of gratitude and satisfaction; the glue that mends a broken but dauntless caring heart.

How many "thank you"s do you hear in an average day my friend?

Well unless you're the bartender on "Free Beer Night" or just standing on a street corner giving away money, you will not feel nearly as appreciated as you will providing help to the helpless.

I'm not involved in direct patient care on the wards these days but over the years I must have said "You're welcome!" about 3/4 of a million times ( I did the math! ), for everything from "Thanks for the ice water" to "Thanks for making my Mom's last days so comfortable".

My present-day housekeeping duties at St.B are considerably less demanding and infinitely less stressful than they were as an "aide", but my oft-repaired heart no less delights in contributing to MY hospital's reputation as a place where compassion is King, smiles are free and the "extra" mile is every one.

I had just rolled my mop and pail onto the "beehive" known as the intensive care surgical unit yesterday morning when an old withered hand beckoned me from the first bed.

There amidst the usual array of tubes, lines and monitors - and the ambient noise of a video arcade - lay a frail little lady trembling fearfully; in a state not unexpected I should say, of disorientation.

I don't know if she thought she knew me or if she was just flat out afraid and thought I looked like someone who could help but I did know that my expertly incomparable floor cleaning was about to be put on pause.

I set aside my mop, removed my work gloves and with a smile I took her warm parchment-like hand carefully in mine and said, "Everything is just FINE my dear....don't you worry about a thing...you're in the BEST of hands.....".

In but a moment her features relaxed and a thin smile acknowledged my "....Happy New Year".

As I turned to fetch my mop she hailed me once again until I was close enough to hear her mouth those magical words, "thank you".

The ward clerk at the nearby desk who had witnessed the exchange, warmly said to me a few minutes later, "You'd make a good Health Care Aide Tim!"

You'd have to be Krazy.

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( mAgically)

A Christmas Musing

Merry Christmas Friend,

In the aftermath of my computer crashing recently I lost a lot of valuable information, not the least of which is your mailing address.

Your present is not "in the mail" because I never mailed it, so you can can stop wearing out the carpet in front of the window where you keep watch for the mailman and get on with the rest of your Yuletide preparations.

Temper your disappointment with the comforting knowledge that your mailman's usual load will be lighter by one; expensively heavy parcel.

You may also sweeten that knowing pot with a dash of warmth and fuzziness because you'll be pleased to know that the money I would have spent on your gift, I have donated in your name, to the Human Fund.

It's a little known but highly effective organization of people, run by "people people" doing work for people, with people's betterment and a world for all people and their people's peoples' betterment in mind.

I know what you're saying..."nice". ( that's exactly what I'm saying too! )

You may also say "Nice" twice because as an added bonus I'm also sending you my Best Wishes!

Unlike the borderline insubstantial funds I've earmarked for you for the FUND, these wishes are considerably more palpable, undeniably more personal, irrefutably more heartfelt, and unquestionably of more use.

And since they are my "best"...they don't get any better!

I wish you PEACE; the ecstatic tranquility that comes with the realization that if you are breathing you are alive, and if you are alive then you have life, and if you have life then you have the greatest gift of all.

I wish you LOVE; overflowing your soulful heart that all you touch in your life will have been touched by a happy and generous Angel on Earth.

I wish you JOY; the childlike wonder and awe of all things yet magical in this world that fuel the dreams of a young and vibrant soul.

I wish you HAPPINESS; on Christmas and ALL days of the year that the World is blessed by your presence and in which you are blessed to be present.

I wish you FAITH; in God, in Nature, in yourself...in whatever gives meaning and inspiration to your caring and thoughtful deeds.

I wish you STRENGTH; to triumph over any and all adversity that it ultimately makes you stronger and wiser.

I wish you PEACE OF MIND; that comes from mercy and forgiveness - giving others and yourself "another chance"!

I wish you HOPE; because it is the purest fuel, the color of imagination, the fragrance of time, the soundtrack of life, and a reason to live and cherish life.

I wish you the MERRIEST of CHRISTMASES; may all your Christmas wishes come true and may God Bless You with Serenity that lasts the whole year long!

As to the aforementioned "Human Fund" thing....

Nice "try"?

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( ...everyone! )

You Whut!? #79

Morning Friend,

Have you tried any of the interactive marvels out there like “Rock Band” or “Guitar Hero”?

They are hugely popular, quite likely with you or someone you know.

As a former singer/guitarist ( of heroic ambition let’s say vs. any noteworthy virtuosity), I am none surprised at the popularity of such musical interactive technology with its’ nearly lifelike stage environment; the frantic crowd, the rambunctious colors and flamboyant excitement are the meat and potatoes of what makes performing, one of the greatest natural highs I’ve ever known.

But as viscerally fulfilling as much of today’s computer-generated realities may be, they’re not quite the same as blowing up a real ammo dump, mowing down a real platoon of n’er-do-wells nor....

...windmill riffing a Gibson through a blazing Marshall stack whilst bellowing one of your fan favorite Clash tunes ( and sounding not half-bad thanks to the 10K p.a. and a sound man who’s a professional and not your buddy ), wearing sweat-soaked fashionable threads; reflective of your persona (and limited wardrobe), under the always surprisingly hot blast of colored spotlights that exaggerate your provocative leaping, emphasize your statuesque posturing and spotlight the nakedness of your creative self under the rain of instantaneous feedback ( and the odd feminine undergarment), as upon a real stage.

Of genuine interactivity, there is no equal.

My band memories are a nostalgic recollection of a fantasy brought to life and nurtured over a few years in the early 80’s.

Co-founded with my friend and “soul brother” Darren Duke, You Whut!? ably facilitated a healthy release of the exhibitionist tendencies and musical passion of several young dudes - now lifelong friends - over the course of a good little run of gigs and adventure.

We were noisy, and we made a little noise.

Given my own already well evident extroverted bent at the time, my reverence for the trappings of “guitar rock”, my proximity to some truly talented and inspiring musician/friends, my burgeoning creative nature, and access to parental basement practice facilities ( thanks Mom for “...at least I know where he is.” ), You Whut!? was a perfect fit.

The alternative in that “pre-Sega” era would have been the primitive ancestor of today’s Guitar Hero....Air Guitar.

“Start with good instruments”, was the advice of our stoically brilliant mentor and friend Gord Zubrecki ( Gord Zubrecki Band ), as opposed to the oft out of tune department store bargain I had been earnestly thrashing bar chords upon.

A Strat and a Les Paul later, we were poised to “learn songs and rehearse”, with Gordie providing the drums, some vocals and a healthy back beat of encouragement.

A rough rendition of Gen X’s “Ready Steady Go” became the first of many “three-chord-specials-with-a-solo” that would be the staple of our diverse set lists of “all ahead full” original and cover tunes.

About fifty astonished friends and family in my parent’s basement witnessed the inaugural You Whut!? gig on a Friday summer’s eve.

It was to be the first of many imperfect performances marked by a wide range of “tightness” yet consistently energetic, none-too serious and always full of fun.

I never bit the head off of or otherwise maimed any props during shows.

About the only risqué thing I ever did was sport some somewhat revealing ( and tremendously uncomfortable) tie-dyed green one piece long underwear as we opened a set with “Theme from the Friendly Giant” ( You Whut!? style....fast)

As to that name?....

After days of a struggled search; literally through the entire English dictionary, and finding no noun or verb worthy of heralding our band and its’ soul purpose, I offered up a fairly common catch-phrase to the boys, which reflects some basic elements of surprise: shock, wonder, disbelief, amazement....elements that make life’s stage such an improvisational and entertaining gig.

Someone uttering the phrase is usually seeking some sort of redemptive truth, great explanation or grand illumination; or may just simply be expressing vigorous exasperation.

It turned out to be a good choice not just because of its’ versatile nature and broad interpretation, but because it didn’t brand us to a specific genre of music or trumpet too loudly like say, “Maggot Breath”, “the She-Satans” or “the Parlor Dandies”!?!?

And, it turned out to be more memorable than a lot of band names given the verbal exchange it usually provoked.

Usually someone asks a musician, “What’s your band’s name?.....oh, The Vandalays?....COOL!”, and then immediately forgets it.

Try this exchange.....

“What’s the name of your band?”
“You Whut!?”
“What?”
“You Whut!? is the band’s name.”
“You Whut!?”
“Ya, You Whut!?”
“Is that like U-2 ?”
“No, You WHUT!?...exclamation...question mark...like what you’d say to a person who’s told you they’ve won the lottery.....”
“You Whut!?”
“Exactly!....or what a father says when his daughter tells him she’s pregnant....”
“YOUUU WHUUUT!?!?!?”
“That’s it!”
“Cool!”
“Not as cool as dodging undergarments from admiring females....real ones too!”
“OUT-standing!”
“Truly.”

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....
Love as long as you live ( heroically )

One Liners #78

Morning Friend,

It being too hot and beautiful this morning for anything mind-sappingly deep or energetically earth-shattering, I thought I’d simply share some simple truths that I may one day expound upon but for today will simply throw out like pebbles rippling the serene surface of your Monday mind.

You don’t live to be 5 ( years sober) without picking up a nugget of knowledge, a thought worth remembering or some smarts or two along the way.

In no particular order of triviality and neither sobering nor drunk-inducing, I have come to realize the following:

- When you tell the truth, you have less to remember.

- Cheap Dollar Store batteries and lighters do not last and are virtually worthless at any price.

- Productivity in “Union shops” suffers due to a lack of incentive.

- You never truly know someone until you live with them.

- A sense of humor trumps good looks in the game of romance.

- Sometimes it is better to remain silent and be thought ignorant, than to speak up and remove all doubt.

- Prolonged negative emotional energy can be physiologically self-destructive.

- An hour’s cat nap can be more restful than an 8 hour toss-o-rama.

- It’s far easier to stay in shape than to get in shape.

- A sprinkle of salt with the grounds makes better tasting drip coffee.

- Cake recipes are not chemical formulas; a 1/4 teaspoon of this or that either way is unnoticeable.

- Just about every smoker wishes they weren’t.

- Most plans, promises and vows made while drunk are never kept.

- Music adds productivity to any workplace.

- If your Mother wouldn’t approve of it, it’s probably not the best idea you ever had.

- God watches over drunks and small children.

- Trust is like a credit rating; once lost, extremely difficult to regain.

- You are as young as your dreams and as old as your fears.

- The girls do not look “prettier at closing time”; the pretty ones have in fact left by then.

- Hearing and listening are two different things.

- Sliced green tomatoes fried in butter, salt and pepper until nearly black are delicious.

- Follow the “Serenity Prayer” and you will not only have more energy than you realized, you will likely live longer.

- It is better to have loved a short woman than never to have loved a tall.

- Measure thrice, cut once.

- One “look at what I am doing” is worth a thousand “look at what I’m going to do’s”.

- Violence is the last resort of the ignorant.

- Learn to play the accordion and you will never go hungry.

- True love, is bigger than a shoe.

- Good poetry doesn’t have to rhyme; Great poetry often does.

- If nothing else, sobriety is cheaper.

- You cannot over-water tomato plants in well drained pots.

- The 1,463’rd “I’m sorry” is a meaningless part of a drunk’s vocabulary.

- Kindness will slay a grump every time.

- As distasteful and/or incomprehensible the concept of God might be to some, there are those like myself who whose lives are owed to it.

- One of the greatest distinguishing features of the human brain is the ability to filter out negativity while creating an impenetrably healing aura and comforting mind-state of our own choosing...out of thin air.

- Air is free.

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( exemplarily )

Musical Ride #77

Morning Friend,

All aboard the “ban-wagon” everyone.
Now that some truly sensible laws are in place banning the slow asphyxiation of children in cars and the hand-held hamstringing of drivers, let’s roll the wagon on toward another “proven” menace; deranged music-listening cyclists.
The latest “proof” linking music listening and cycling tragedy appeared in a small story in last week’s paper.
A young cyclist was killed when he rolled through a red light and into the path of a large truck.
The fact that the young man had a personal listening device in use at the time was considered a “contributing factor” in the tragedy.
As a cyclist myself, this story obviously touched me, but not just in the obvious way.
“What in heaven’s name”, I asked myself, “was the poor soul listening to, that it was a “contributing factor” in his demise?....Perry Como?...self-hypnosis?....self hypnosis voiced by Perry Como??”
May the Good Lord rest and comfort the poor departed lad and his family, but for goodness sakes, let us for a moment gild his memory with a shred more respect than by suggesting he was so distracted by the music he was listening to that he failed to notice a red light!?
Contrary to the ignorant conclusion inferred by the newspaper, I would beg to differ on behalf of those who know...and the young fellow who I think knew too.
Lo these many years I have cycled the year around and having traversed none of the many miles unaccompanied by some form of music, I can think of zero times when I went suddenly color-blind or lost my mind in some casualty-causing fashion or another.
I would in fact have to strongly argue that if anything, music enhances my skills and critical awareness on the road.
The relaxing soundtrack of my ride nicely compliments the steely sensory process and physiological rigors of a safe journey.
In tunes I am in tune.
Obviously the volume is not so loud as to obliterate the ambient and potentially emergent siren-sounds of the street.
For me the idea is not self-induced deafness ( or blindness?), but a safe spiritual compliment and imaginative enhancement to a bicycle ride.
I might appear to be ambling along on a rusting green Norco, but with an energizing jolt of some blistering southern rock as a backdrop I may well be high in the saddle of some trusty coal-black trail horse named “Storm” or “Lightening”; something biblically titanic.
The badlands of the mean streets lie ahead on the trail with bad drivers lurking like black-hatted rustlers in the sage.
The reins of my handlebars are gripped as tightly as the cast of my baleful Lone Ranger stare, scanning warily for pothole snakes and traffic control devices; relentless as an AC/DC backbeat.
Or it could be the notes of an etude trailing behind me on a gallop through a fine Austrian meadow.
Or perhaps with my “motor running” I could be heading out on the highway, looking for adventure....and whatever comes our way?...my “horse” is now a “hawg” of course.
In any event, the magical world I create for my ride through the use of energizing and inspiring music is not some “bizzaro-realm” of science fiction where up is down and left is right and red means “go”.
The same basic rules of physics, chemistry, biology, and the road are distinctly applicable.
As are the rules of good common sense.
It makes sense to ban things and practices that are bad for children and hazardous to the public’s safety.
A car filled with cigarette smoke is not a “contributing factor” to a child having trouble breathing, it’s the cause.
By all means my friend, ban it.
Listening to music does not cause insanity in cyclists nor does it contribute factors rendering them as drones haphazardly meandering through intersections like suicidal twits.
Let’s ban bad luck, bad brakes, bad mornings or the darned bug or whatever bad thing which got in that poor kid’s distracted eye that day.
If such an absurdity as a ban on music while cycling were to come to pass I can definitely foresee traffic light problems of my own...I’d be seeing nothing but red.
love tImMy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live (saddled up)

Monday Musing #76

Morning Friend,



As if I weren’t challenged enough, I chose Monday as my weekly day of “writing practice” in spite of the inherent difficulties of the work week’s most daunting day.



There is an adage which recommends not buying a car which was manufactured on a Monday (or a Friday), because of the less than ideal mindset of autoworkers on such a transitional day.



Understandably so...for all manner of assembly and sets of mind I’d venture to say.



In an ideal world ( or in China?), where everyone treated and cherished every day like it could be their last, we wouldn’t differentiate the days of the week so dramatically.



We’d be happy to be alive, joyful to be healthy, and thrilled to have a job to go to in furtherance of our quest for personal fulfillment and spiritual enlightenment no matter what day of the week it was.



There’d be no...

“Whew, we’re in a groove now” Tuesday

“Hump Day!” Wednesday

“I can see the light” Thursday

“T.G.I.” Friday

and certainly none of the expletives - too colorful for this “family” forum - associated with Monday.



Alas this isn’t a utopian society – and thank Goodness it’s not some third world regime– so the majority of us who like but don’t love our jobs above all else, deal with the week as it comes, hopefully on the heels of a satisfyingly relaxing weekend.



Satisfied or not however, we grab Monday by the scruff of its’ scrawny neck and give it a good “going over”.



Because the longest journeys begin with a single step and the reward for dealing with Monday’s “frozen mukluk to the head” reality is a date with Tuesday’s “groove”.



And once you’re in the groove it’s a minor hump to the “hump”, a slide to where the light will have begun to be seen and before you know it you’re thanking the Good Lord again for his strength and his guidance and for a day beginning with “F”.



In this "un-ideal" democracy of nine-to-five weekend warriors, the big picture of mortality and frailty often takes a back seat to getting through the week as painlessly as possible.



And if it takes a bit of imaginative folly – and Monday Grumbling- to do so, ( and production doesn’t suffer too greatly), then pitter patter it’s time to get at ‘er.



The ethereal mantras cleverly affixed to the sliced-up pie of the work week make it a palatably manageable meal; each bite growing tastier.



The bough-filtered whispers silenced on Sunday evening, begin to speak in hushed tones by Wednesday; the feathery caress of Nature’s lips drawing ever-nearer. ( THIS sounds like a day when the best cars are made!?)



Barring circumstances unforeseen, you will traverse the stepping-stone days of the wide week’s creek into the warm pine-scented embrace of the weekend, (and I will have completed another week’s literary “exercise”)....after today.



“Do not pray for easy tasks, equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks, especially on Mondays” AB LINCOLN



love tImMy:/



Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live (today)

Cool Canadian #75

Morning Friend,



I hope the enjoyment of your Canada Day weekend included a moment or two of reflection and gratitude.



The Old Gal turned 143 last Thursday and by all the reckoning and comparisons that I can make, she remains unquestionably the very best country in the world in which to live.



One need only look at alternative places – drought-ridden, war-torn, disaster-ravaged Hells-on-earth – that other folks call home and the superlatives relating to Canada are pretty well amongst facts of life on this planet.



I asked several people in recent days to pick a country they would rather live in, and many respondents seemed pleasantly surprised when they couldn’t name one.



And that was pleasing to me because it confirmed what I suspect about a lot of folks....they don’t realize how good they have it – what a truly wonderful, prosperous and blessed country they are blessed to be a part of.



I’m always pleased to be able to help others see the Big Picture, especially when it is one so captivatingly picturesque and vividly vivacious as this vast land of endless opportunity and unequalled tranquility.



Once reminded of their oft-overlooked wealth, I don’t expect people to suddenly transform into flag-waving patriot-zealots or ambassadorial demons.



I would hope anyone with an enhanced sense of their own good fortune might exude a more refined air of humility and drape themselves in a flag of graciousness.



What!?, I ask, do you have to complain about today?

My sincerest apologies if serious health or family issues are at play in your life today my friend.



I’m speaking about the trivial, minute and inconsequential fluff that many people will actually fret and physically whine about on this most perfect summer day in this most poignantly pretty land.



Does the south African woman carrying a five gallon bucket of clean water on her head for five miles every day bitch about a two cent rise in the price of a liter of gasoline?



Is the Afghani child stepping lightly around land mines on her way to school p.o.’d because she wasn’t able to get tickets to the Miley Cyrus show?



Do we hear the Haitian man cursing the traffic on the way to work, from his home which was washed into the sea?



This is not like Christmas where I’ve suggested we try to be “nicer” all year round.



It’s about extending the spirit of Canada Day and what most of us do on that day.....chill the heck, out!



Count your blessings today and every day that you live free.



Free of pestilence, disease, vermin, snipers, bombs, tsunamis, cutthroats, horror, disaster etc.....terror tempered by constant fear.



A little perspective goes a long way.



Unless you can think of someplace better? Hey, I’ll drive you to the airport myself. ( Write when you find work eh!? )



love tImMy:/



Laugh as much as you breathe...

Love as long as you live ( White Canucklng:)

The Merry Tiller #74

Morning Friend,

Dad and I managed to get the garden out at the Lake tilled and planted over the weekend and typically, the sojourn with nature left me wiser, humbler and calloused.

Please note I said “calloused” as in, “There goes my hand modeling career”, and not “callous” like my agent telling me, “There goes your hand modeling career”.

I’m talking of course the good old fashioned thickening of one’s palms that comes from a few hours of wrestling and wrangling our trusty “Merry Tiller” through the rich but sparse Canadian Shield soil that is thick with roots, rocks, and more rocks.

The Canadian Shield is a vast horseshoe-shaped area around Hudson Bay covering eastern and central Canada, and a small part of the Northern United States. Some 1.9 million square miles, very nearly half of Canada’s total area, is occupied by the Canadian Shield.

The rocks of the Canadian Shield were formed in Precambrian times 500 million years ago during a lengthy period when two tectonic plates converged, causing the surface rock to be forced down into the interior of the earth, melt, rise back to the surface and slowly cool. The rocks are igneous and metamorphic and contain large areas of granite.

Due to the effects of glaciation during the most recent ice age which started about two and a half million years ago, the Canadian Shield has very thin soil with rocky outcroppings frequently showing.

We’re not talking about prime farm land here unless of course there was a sudden demand for “pet boulders” for which we’d have the market cornered.

But with a little persistence and hard, but “merry” work behind the Merry Tiller, we do manage to get a nice little crop of potatoes, squash, onions etc. out of a modest sized patch of rocky earth.

Over the years the edges of the garden have become strewn with grapefruit to watermelon-sized rocks and boulders merrily heaved there after frequently and frustratingly stalling the tiller’s tines.

And despite the evidence that they did not crawl back into the ground, the bounty of yet more tine-tingling rocks each spring has led to the belief – Dad’s anyway – that the rocks we remove have left “babies” behind that grow in their parents stead over the winter.

It is uncanny really, to till the same patch of ground year after year and find new cantaloupe-sized rocks that you could not possibly have missed, re-appearing like perennial plants.

Like die hard revelers from the tectonic plate party of 500 million years ago, are they late arriving home, straggling to the surface, a few dozen each year catching a Cambrian Taxicab with the rising frost line?

It is a mystery my friend, but no less mysterious or humbling than the sheer rugged beauty from which we will merrily harvest a miraculous feast in the fall ( as anyone who’s tasted new potatoes, onions and cream served at Grace and Jer’s Full Deck Lodge will readily attest !)

There are great sentinel slabs of stone and granite strewn about too large to be heaved aside which we obviously till around.

Older than civilization, they will be here long after you and I have harvested our last potatoes from the fertile bedding of their millennial home.

They silently remind me of life’s certainties and immovable truths.

You till the soil and remove the impediments that you are able to.

How the rocks and roots get in your way is not as important as the fact you have the capacity to remove them, and are wise enough to let the larger ones be.

You plant where you can, as best as you can.

The garden of my life has the gargantuan slab of alcoholism right smack in the middle of it.

It is timelessly old and cumbersome; too huge for me to move and the only thing I’ll ever manage to grow on it – as you can imagine- is moss.

The remaining soil though is arable enough; with a fair bit of tilling and weeding and tending I’ve got a pretty good crop on the go.

There is the familiar endless supply of rocks and roots – small boulders even - but they are proving to be no match for a calloused, and merry, ( bordering on delirious), tiller...

...who’s always available as a “before” hand model?

love tImMy:/

Laugh as long as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( harvesting)

Ab Steinway #73

Morning Friend,

There’s a saying in the roofing business – “We’re not building pianos here!”.

I can’t say for sure the saying is exclusive to the “soffit/fascia crowd” or if my buddy Rudy of All-City Exteriors stole the quip from another tradesman in the rough-hewn arena of home construction/renovation.

Whatever its’ origins, the saying reflects the diverse nature of life and life’s work.

Some of it is rough; crude and basic -”bull work” at times – requiring little or no subtlety of thought or action.

With all due respect to the craftsmanship and skill of roofers, builders and demolishers everywhere, there are those on the other end of the spectrum of life’s workers who require considerably more ability of a concise and artistic nature; like piano makers...and writers.

A sixteenth of an inch might be “wiggle room” to a shingler, but it is like the Grand Canyon in a Grand piano factory.

And in the factory of my literary mind, there are some exacting requirements you won’t find on a construction site.

As I’ve recently discovered during what has been a prolonged absence from this forum, I desperately need an element of serenity and stability in my life and home in order to “manufacture pianos”.

Since we last spoke, there has been much in the way of turmoil and distraction here at the old Tomato Farm which spawned “Monday Musings” and which I call home.

My extended hiatus has not been a case of writer’s block, fatigue, burnout or ( heaven forbid!) a drunken relapse.

Nor has it been the result of any personal or family crises – any of which I’d certainly put to use as rich and inspiring fodder.

As it turns out my friend, the unexpected houseguests that circumstance has brought into my home these past months have revealed some pre-requisites heretofore unbeknownst to me with regard to my creative process; first and foremost of those being, solitude.

As grandly gregarious a soul as I am blessed to be – a veritable People Person’s Person! – it seems my left brain does not function while the rest of it is processing the functions of other humans; on the couch, in my bed, on the floor, coming and going, sleeping and snoring, loud or boring, obtrusive or trying too hard not to be, phoning home, home shopping, home improving, making themselves at home and just general all-round being in my home.

I’m not an eccentric or anti-social, in fact I believe I am HYPER-SOCIAL – I cannot help but be “aware” that someone else, a guest is present and therefore I must “host”, or be somehow “hostful”?....anything but lost in the creative trance that writing provokes.

*My “winter roommate” and best friend Jimmy does not count for he is some sort of supernatural being who is “there” without being there....a “cough without a face” you might say...( a topic for another day? )

From this important fact about myself I can draw several conclusions.
- I’ve no use for a portable laptop other than as a backup to my HOME computer
- I’d make a strange and “difficult” husband
- I need to learn how to say “no” to houseguests ( Sunday nights at any rate! )
- I might have made a better roofer than a writer?

I’ve not been able to write much of anything short of grocery lists lately and if I’m disgustingly late in even replying to your emails I hope you’ll consider this explanation as a humble apology.

It is actually only late last week that I found myself at long last Home Alone.

From past efforts I’ve tried to express through words how truly delighted I am with life and to share the lessons and wonder that I’ve been blessed with.

The “work” of writing ( however “rough crude and unsubtle” mine may be) really is a sacred thing to me made all the more special by the knowledge that it is read by and affects others....even if they’re not welcome during “construction”.

After all, I AM “building pianos”!

Love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( under a good roof!)

Spin-erama #72

Morning Friend,

For over 30 years, Lake Superior State University in Michigan has been publishing its’ annual “List of Words Banished from the Queen's English for Misuse Over-Use and General Uselessness”.

Since its’ first New Year’s Day release in 1976, people from all over the world have nominated hundreds of words and phrases to be purged from the language and among them are such infamous nuggets as: “outside the box”, “24/7” , “user-friendly”, “at this point in time”, “at the end of the day”, “my bad”, and on and on it goes.

A nicely placed cliché or catchphrase, is a spokesperson’s best friend; be they a politician, newscaster, team manager, legal representative or corporate mouthpiece.

Like a catchy “hook” in a song, a contemporary catchphrase may add a certain familiarity and conviviality to what are often banal and sometimes “bad news” messages.

A dull or even dim-witted spokesperson can be seen to be at least somewhat clever through the use of trendy sayings and colloquial buzzwords.

Politicians – the Lords of Linguistic Largesse – use the clichéd language of pop culture in such a manner so as to speak, without actually saying anything of substance.

Listening to a politician is like watching a bad mime...something is happening, but no one is really sure what it is?

The mime’s occasional smile at least tells us that whatever it is, it’s not all bad; comforted perhaps by the common belief that politicians are “monitoring all situations on an ongoing basis”?

This year’s L.S.S.U. list includes a few nuggets I’m sure you’ll recognize by their hackneyed regurgitation if not their downright nausea-inducing familiarity.

Surely we’ve heard “too big to fail” , “transparent/transparency”, “czar”, “stimulus” and “toxic assets” far too many times and clever novelty words like “bromance”, “tweet”, “chillaxin’” and “sexting” at least the one time that is one too many?

One phrase which didn’t make it this year – through some miraculous oversight surely – and one which quite frankly I am sick and tired of hearing is “moving forward”!

Apparently everybody and everything nowadays, is “moving forward”.

A sports team on a ten game losing streak is moving forward in an effort to turn things around.

A company just filing for bankruptcy has done so moving forward.

A celebrity is moving forward, taking back some drunken words said at an awards show.

The solution to the country’s economic downturn is being addressed by effectively moving forward more effectively and more forwardly.

Tiger Woods has cut all extra-marital ties and is moving forward at a sexual addiction clinic. ( and backward, and forward, and backward....*just kidding)

An automobile manufacturer whose cars have defective transmissions with no forward gear, are moving forward by recalling them.

It’s a pleasant enough concept... being on the move, and in a forward direction connotes positive action, but the trouble lies in its’ multi-contextual nature.

It truly is a spin doctor’s dream phrase...applicable to virtually any situation and effective in even the direst of circumstance.

After the first 500 or so hearings of the phrase, it dawned on me that you can pretty say “the whole world and everything in it is moving forward” and be exactly correct!

It seems to me my friend, that the whole world has jumped upon the “moving forward” bandwagon, rendering the phrase a blight upon the Queen’s or anyone else’s English!

Every action between one to another – no matter how mundane or even factual - has become a forward move.

“While asleep in bed last night I made a significant rollover and found a different position moving forward in my restfulness.”

“While walking backwards today I hit a tree branch with my head moving forward in reminding myself not to be so foolish.”

“Comfortable footwear with a good sole for changeable weather helps me moving forward in all conditions.”

Surely a phrase as“...misused, overused and generally useless.” as this one deserves inclusion on next year’s banishment list ?

Otherwise I fear society’s ongoing evolutionary process will be like a mime behind a pane of glass....unable to move forward.

A “good” mime anyway.

love tImMy :/

Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live (on the move)