Happy to be stuck at a traffic light

The other day I found myself caught in traffic in a shopping mall. Hard to believe, I know. It was Boxing Week so I expected the chaos but judging by the looks of the drivers around me they didn't.

So I'm sitting there waiting to escape out of the mall parking lot and while I sat there at the red light a young woman was attempting to turn left into the mall. But unlike most of the drivers surrounding me this young driver was different. I couldn't hear the music in her car but this woman was grooving to whatever beat was coming out of her radio. Her arms were up and she was literally dancing inside her car and singing at the top of her lungs. It brought an immediate smile to my face and I was happy she was stuck at the light because it gave me a few extra moments to marvel in this woman's happiness. Talk about refreshing.

Remember the days when singing and dancing came naturally to most of us? Young people hit the clubs every weekend and go crazy on the dance floor because they're happy. Singing + dancing = happiness. Some time after 30 most of us forget to sing and dance. We ignore the primal urge to be happy and that's too bad.

I try to be happy most days but singing at my office is outlawed (right Christy?!) and dancing, well without music you just look silly bopping around the newsroom. At home my kids tell me to shut up when I break out into song and Rebekah rolls her eyes every time I strut my stuff on the kitchen floor.

But think about it for a moment, some of the most popular shows on television revolve around singing and dancing. Dancing with the Stars, Glee, American Idol are all top rated shows. Remember that dancing baby on Ally McBeal? Everybody smiled when he appeared.

I think we should all sing and dance a little more even if we aren't the most talented at it. I couldn't hear that young woman singing but it didn't matter. She was happy and for a few moments in time she made me happy.

Beware the Party of ME

I am Ian McMillan and the  leader of the Party of ME.

I have been living and reading about the concerns of Canadians and they all point in the same direction -- our financial well being.

Why? It's simple. Every day we as Canadians are being inundated with bills. Thanks to Dalton M Guinty's HST those bills are higher today in Ontario than they were one year ago. Chances are they'll be higher next year. Bottom line, nobody's looking after our best interests.

How does it feel to be out there alone, having NOBODY look after your self interests. Not good, I know because I am you.

I am not a Baby Boomer because I missed that generation by 3 years. I'm a Generation Xer but really, anyone who was born after 1960 is in the same predicament that I am. What does that mean for us? Well there's a lot of us and not a lot of people younger than us who can sustain two things -- our Canada Pension Plan and, if you've got it, a pension plan.

There's also something that's even more important than those two things -- our health care system. Judging by the number of OLDER people, ie, you and me in the next few years there will be an incredible strain on our health care system. Will it survive? Who knows.

What we have to do is simple. Governments of the day, both provincial and federal, have to prepare for tomorrow. That doesn't mean the next election. We all know some party will form the next governments. What the brain thrust of our political system has to come to grips with is the future. It doesn't matter what name of the party is that forms the next governments of the day, it's what their priorities are when they take office. Boom, Bust and Echo by David Foote should be required reading for everyone seeking office whether it's at the municipal, provincial or federal levels.

We as a Canadian society, have gotten older. We need to be taken care of and that doesn't mean voting for the party that promises the biggest tax cuts. The next few years will be tough for everyone and the party that takes power has to focus on taking care of the Boomers while also giving the upcoming generations some hope, some jobs, some money.

Will (in Canada) the Conservatives, Liberals, NDPers, Greens et al. be able to step up to the plate and save the day? It's yet to be seen. But if they fail to step up to the plate and save the day there's only one hope -- the Party of ME.

Giggle if you want but I shit you not, in  the next few years, if the traditional parties fail to step up to the plate, the Party of ME will become very real.

These days people are looking for a party that will offer them hope. The traditional parties are not offering them much of that but the Party of ME will. How do I know this? Because I am the leader of this party and if Canadians get fed up they'll be looking for a Party of  Me. What needs to be done is simple.

Keep it simple stupid.

Easy.

I don't need my own Christmas lights to enjoy the season

I enjoy the Christmas lights around my neighbourhood. While walking the dog I love to stop in front of some of the houses and marvel at the EFFORT some homeowners put into their displays.

Don't expect to see any of those spectacular displays at my house though. It's not that I'm anti-Christmas because I do love the holiday season. I just don't have the time or the enthusiasm to put such elaborate displays of colour all over my house.

My neighbour though, who commutes to and from Toronto each and every work day, has very beautiful white lights up so what's my excuse? I really don't have one. I'm just a fair weather holiday-goer. Guilty as charged.

Every neighbourhood needs somebody like me. Could you imagine all the homes in your neigbbourhood looking like the Griswold family homestead? That just wouldn't be cool. It would also give our Premier Dalton McGuinty a mild stroke as energy usage would spike like nobody's business and he would regret taking his coal fired plants off-line before getting anything else in place to fill our energy needs. Not a very bright idea, I know!

That's not to say there isn't some hope one day I won't be a regular Clark Griswald. My father, who's been retired for a few years now, puts up a beautiful display of lights. They far outshine the lights he used to display when I was 12. What's my 12-year-old daughter supposed to think though at her father's completely dark house? I'm hoping she'll be pre-disposed to grandpa's lights and won't remember my dark display of the holiday spirit.

Inside our house we do not lack for light. Two Christmas trees are alight in colour. I've also got some reindeer display near the front entrance that's all a glitter with twinkle lights. From the outside it may seem like a dark Christmas but inside we're just like most families.

That said, I do like a good light display. Can't wait to walk the dog around the neighbourhood tonight.

Keeping Christmas secrets not easy

I know Santa Claus isn't real. That became abundantly clear when I was 12 and my mother turned to me while we were driving in the car and said as much. I remember suspecting he wasn't the real deal but I needed somebody I trusted to confirm it.

My oldest daughter Rebekah is now 12 and my wife Heather broke the news to her last year. I suspect Rebekah didn't need Heather to confirm Santa Claus' existence for her because if you've ever met my daughter then you'll realize that she knows everything!





So one daughter knows the truth while her younger brother and sister do not. Considering they are eight and four years old that's the way I would prefer to keep it right now. But it's difficult to maintain this Christmas secret when television shows aired in prime time keep letting the truth slip out. Tonight for example, Glee, a popular television show all my children watch, all but screamed "Santa Claus is a hoax, your parents have been lying to you your whole lives!" One character in the show still believed in the big guy and her Glee friends did everything they could to make sure she continued to think Santa was real.

I would have no problem with this show if it aired at 9:30 or 10 p.m. but it started at 8 p.m. and all my kids enjoy watching it on a weekly basis. Why then would the television networks air this content at such an early hour? Give me a break.

Believing in Santa Claus adds an element of excitement and suspense to the Christmas season for children. They're careful to be good in anticipation of a big payoff on Dec. 25. And let's face facts, parents around the world take full advantage of the season getting their children to be good and behave "or Santa won't bring you anything for Christmas." 
I'm disappointed in Glee's Christmas episode. I wanted to keep at least two of my children young at heart for a little while longer. Lord knows they grow up quick enough as it is.

Dalton McGuinty's road to another broken promise

If you travel to Columbus you'll see many of these signs. If there was more room on the sign
it would have said, "Keep your promise Dalton and don't end Hwy. 407 at Simcoe Street"

I loathe Hwy. 407 but I have to admit I've driven on it many times.

The thought that my tax dollars paid for the highway and now I have to pay some Spanish-owned company highly inflated rates to drive on it is just wrong.

Fortunately the majority of my travels along Hwy. 407 were work related when I was employed in Toronto. Since 2005 I've been fortunate enough to work in the very city in which I live, Oshawa. The transponder has been returned and now I rarely think of the roadway.

While Hwy. 407 is not on the top of my mind these days the same cannot be said of the poor residents who live in Columbus, a tiny hamlet within the City of Oshawa situated in the city's north-west end. They've recently learned that Dalton McGuinty's Liberals will no longer be extending Hwy. 407 through to Hwy. 35/115 but rather stopping it at Simcoe Street. Translation, Columbus residents' quiet little piece of the globe will soon become a noisy, congested on/off ramp for the highway.

No warnings were ever issued by the government that this would happen, no public meetings were ever held beforehand, just an announcement a few weeks ago making it official. Sorry about your luck people but the government's broke, highway's going to end in your backyard.

This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. A March 2007 agreement between the federal and provincial governments stated that Ontario agreed to complete the Hwy. 407 extension from Brock Road in Pickering to Hwy. 35/115 with construction slated to begin in 2009 and wrap up by 2013.

Yes, I realize it's completely out of character for the McGuinty government to renege on a promise. I was as stunned as everyone else when it happened. Not.

The fallout from this will not be good for the City of Oshawa. There will have to be some major upgrades to road infrastructure that were not forecast in the municipal budget. Given the new council's vow to spend our tax dollars more responsibly, tough decisions will have to be made. So Oshawa residents will have to do more with less thanks to a broken provincial promise.

The highway was promised to Durham Region because it's needed to ease congestion along Hwy. 401. Economically it just makes sense.

Would McGuinty have stopped the highway in Oshawa if we had a Liberal MPP here? Probably not. But we're Tory blue from Whitby through to Clarington so there's no worry of any incumbent MPPs getting turfed over the issue.  

It seems that every time we turn around the McGuinty government continues breaking promises under the guise of 'good government' (HST, Eco tax, Hwy. 407 etc.) and taxpayers keep getting inconvenienced.

For once it would be nice to see a promise made and a promise kept. Is that too much to ask?

A tough job to win, a tougher job to hold on to

It's deja vu in the Oshawa political arena.

Back in 2006 Julia McCrea ran and won for school board trustee with the Durham District School Board. Her victory was short-lived however, when it was discovered that she was ineligible to hold office as a trustee while working in education. She worked as a teacher in York Region but lived in Oshawa.

One would think her background in education would have served Ms. McCrea well as a school board trustee in Durham Region. It was actually one of the reasons I voted for her. But rules are rules and Ms. McCrea was forced out of office before she could be sworn in. A by-election was held and Michael Barrett was re-elected to take her place.

Fast-forward to 2010 and Mike Nicholson finds himself in a similar situation. He won a seat on Oshawa council but today he got word from the Toronto Transit Commission, where he works as a bus driver, that if he was sworn in today with the rest of his council colleagues, he'd be terminated from the TTC. As a result, only Mayor John Henry was sworn in. (Visit http://durhamregion.com/news/article/167108)

City councillors work part-time and make about $30,000. TTC workers make considerably more than $30,000 so it's not a job Mr. Nicholson wants to lose.

Mr. Nicholson says he  checked with the TTC before he ran for city council and got approval. He was even congratulated by his supervisors and colleagues when he won the election in November. Now the story has changed and Mr. Nicholson has until Monday to get the situation figured out. If he can't hold office while employed at the TTC will the City of Oshawa hold a bye-election to replace him or award the job to the candidate who placed one behind Mr. Nicholson in the election? I for one hope we have a by-election. Otherwise Maryanne Sholdra will once again be on council. What a disaster that would be.

The City of Oshawa's slogan is 'Prepare to be Amazed'. Given the way this situation is playing out the slogan is proving true, but not in the way it was originally meant.

Why send a student to detention when you can just have him arrested?

I couldn't believe it when I read the media release from the police this afternoon. A 12-year-old boy was arrested at Ross Tilley Public School in Bowmanville on a charge of threatening.

His crime? He was upset that he had to get a hepatitis B shot and he said some things in the heat of the moment because he was a kid.

No one was hurt and no weapons were found at the school, Durham police said. A school board spokeswoman said the boy threatened to cause damage to the school building.

"We just wanted to send a strong message to everyone out there ... that this will not be tolerated in schools," Durham police spokesman Dave Selby said. "We want to let people know that under the Criminal Code, if there is behaviour that warrants it, we will be laying a charge."

You cannot blame the police for intervening. When they're called to a situation, whether it's at a bar, a home or at a school, they have the responsibility to respond. That's their job.

But really, who was the Einstein who made the call to the police in the first place? There were clearly other options that could have been put in play to calm this student. How about just not giving him the needle, contacting his parents and telling them he'd have to get the shot from his family physician or face suspension? Wouldn't that have been easier than calling the parents and explaining that their son had been arrested at school because he freaked out about getting a needle? Many kids freak out when they have to get needles including my own. I'm not fond of getting them either and I'm far from being a kid.

Not only was the student arrested but he was also held for a bail hearing. All over a needle.

This was no situation to call the police in to settle. They have far bigger issues to deal with than upset students. Talk about an over reaction by the teachers and principal involved. They just taught this kid a lesson he didn't need to learn and humiliated him in the process.

Sobering start to R.I.D.E. campaign

Journalists are supposed to cover stories objectively no matter what the circumstances and I can honestly say I've done that throughout my career.

But two years ago the police asked me to 'become' the story rather than 'cover' it by hoisting a few frosty pints at Durham College's student pub, EP Taylors. The objective was to show me, and a few other  assembled journalists, how alcohol impairs our driving ability. We drank, jumped into a driving simulator, and then swerved all over the place. The startling thing about the experience wasn't that I was swerving in the driving simulator but that I hadn't blown over the legal blood alcohol level of .08 (The level is now .05). It took five pints over the span of an hour and a half before I blew a warning. Scary. (For the record, everyone is different so five beers for me could mean eight beers for someone else or two beers for another guy before they blow over the legal limit.)

Fast forward to today and what's even scarier than me driving recklessly in a simulator inside a pub was the number of drivers driving recklessly on the real roads of Durham Region last week. In the first week of the Festive R.I.D.E. program a record number of charges were laid.


This isn't a situation you want to find yourself in so
if you're drinking, don't drive.



Twenty-one people were charged with drinking and driving offences up from 13 the year before. As well, 22 motorists received three-day suspensions for registering a WARN, up from 17 the previous year.

Police Chief Mike Ewles expressed concern by the results from Week No. 1.



"This is shocking and simply not acceptable," he said. "I am calling on all citizens, friends, neighbours, parents, students, bar owners, party organizers - everyone, to step up and do their part to stop this incredibly dangerous trend."



I know from my 'simulated' experience two years ago that two beers was enough to impair my driving. It's simply not worth taking the chance.

When you work in the media long enough things tend to repeat themselves. We're called upon to cover annual events such as Terry Fox runs, Heart and Stroke fundraisers, parades, etc. and we do them without complaint (OK, well maybe not without complaint). One story that tends to repeat itself far too often is drunk driving accidents. And if we get tired of reporting on these issues I can only imagine how tired the police get having to deal with the fallout from the families affected by these tragedies.

Dave Selby. the communications co-ordinator with Durham Regional Police Services, told me that far too many residents believe gangs  are something they need to be concerned with when it comes to neighbourhood crime. Wrong. The biggest risk to everyone is drunk driving. That's a sobering thought.

A nose for trouble

His name is Ozzie, our family's beagle. He's a cute, 6-year-old dog who my kids conned me into adopting two years ago. I was a reluctant participant at first but the dog's adorable, dumb, puppy dog look soon won me over.

Ozzie

If it wasn't for that look Ozzie wouldn't have lasted the two years we've had him. While he's shown the family much affection and endeared himself to my kids he's also gotten himself into some mischief. Take, for example, the time he clawed his way through a basement door, chewed some of our kid's toys to pieces, eaten a vacuum cleaner nozzle, and destroyed a couch cushion. Woof, woof.



Our last dog could be trusted but Webster was a corgi, not a beagle. While corgis are herding breeds, beagles are hunting dogs, governed by their noses. They are part of the hound family and can sniff out anything, anywhere, anytime.

 It's this nose that landed our faithful companion in trouble last weekend. He got into some mystery garbage and that garbage didn't sit well with Ozzie until about 5 in the morning when it shot out of him and all over my son's bedroom. Quite the visual, I know but it's better than the smell, trust me! His timing was perfect too as my 8-year-old son Tavish was having a sleepover with his buddy Anthony. The look on their faces as they raced out of Tavish's bedroom was priceless. I would have laughed if I had known there was someone else who would have cleaned up the mess. Unfortunately I'm the only one in my family who can clean up these types of spills without creating more spills, if you know what I mean.

Two days later the dog did it again. Thankfully he's on the mend now. No more accidents . . . please.

What's the moral of my story? Life's not perfect, sometimes it gets messy but you've got to take the good with the bad. I can't fault the dog for being a dog. If I'd wanted a cat I could have got one but they come with their own set of issues as well.

Besides, who could stay upset with that face? He is a cutie, don't you think?

Leafs have made me a bigger fan of hockey

There was a time when I was a die-hard Toronto Maple Leafs fan. I lived for the blue and white and my actual mood would be affected depending on whether the team won or lost the night before.

Not anymore.

This change didn't come about recently, it's been years in the making, I'd say since the early 1990s when Doug Gilmour led the team far in the playoffs. Since that memorable playoff run the team has been unable to achieve any level of success.

Year after year Leafs fans have been disappointed. The team hasn't made the playoffs since the 2003-04 season when they beat the Ottawa Senators in seven games to advance to the conference semi-finals. Philly put them out of their misery in the next round.

Since that short-lived playoff appearance the team has failed to earn a spot in the playoffs. Actually the team has failed to even compete. That hasn't stopped ticket prices from increasing every season though.

While all this mediocrity has been taking place in Toronto I've found myself watching other teams. That's not to say I've picked a new favourite team because I haven't. I've just learned to appreciate the game of hockey by watching better hockey teams. I no longer have to wait for the Boston Bruins to play the Leafs in this age of cable and satellite television. It's possible to watch the Boston - Montreal game or the Pittsburgh - Washington game whenever and wherever they play. There's a lot of talent in the NHL, you just have to surf a few channels in order to find it.

The Leafs are currently mired in another slump losing their last eight of nine games. The team's sniper Phil Kessel can't score and General Manager Brian Burke is ranting on about fans booing the team's on-ice performance. This hasn't changed my mood in the least as I don't care. The Leafs teams of my father's era were supposed to win, the Leafs teams of my era are supposed to lose.

The Leafs' fortunes may turnaround in the future but before they do I'm going to continue enjoying the game by watching other competitive teams play. Toronto isn't the centre of the hockey universe like many believe. There's a lot of hockey out there and I'm going to enjoy watching  as many games as I can.

It's all about respect

If you’re like me your life is busy. We all have things to do, places to go and people to see. There’s never a dull moment.

While we’re living our lives we tend to be scattered and all over the place. If you had the power to float above it all and look down I’m sure you’d be surprised by the complete chaos that is us, humanity.

It usually takes something BIG to get us all to slow down. I see it most often when a soldier is killed in Afghanistan. When that happens many of us pause to reflect.

Hwy. 401 has been renamed the Highway of Heroes because of the overwhelming support Canadians like you and me have shown our soldiers making their final journeys home. Hundreds of people line the bridges throughout Durham Region for repatriation ceremonies to show their support for our fallen soldiers.  It’s a heartwarming sight to see and even more powerful for those who make their way out to these ceremonies.

These unscripted, spontaneous acts of compassion are really about respect. Regular folks from coast to coast respect the men and women who sacrifice their lives in the name of country, our Canada.

That's why it's disturbing to see so many stories in the media these days about veterans getting the bureaucratic runaround by our own federal government.  When Colonel Pat Stogram, the former Veterans Affairs Ombudsman, was unceremoniously dumped from his post last summer because of the fuss he raised over the treatment of veterans, it made me sick.

Col. Stogram knows of what he speaks and he doesn't like to see veterans being mistreated by our government. If our veterans were being treated fairly there wouldn't be a class-action lawsuit launched by veteran Dennis Manuge of Nova Scotia, charging the government with unlawfully denying the injured their due and acting in bad faith with clawbacks of benefits. The lawsuit involves 6,500 veterans. Another suit has been launched by veteran-activist Sean Bruyea of Nepean. You may recall him as he was the poor guy who learned that his personal medical files had been made widely available to government officials.

Late last month Jean-Pierre Blackburn, Canada’s minister of veterans affairs, issued a public apology to Bruyea.

Canadian soldiers sacrifice everything for us which is one reason why so many residents flock to the repatriation ceremonies when a soldier is cut down in battle. It's about respect, love of country and love of our fellow men and women.

We supply our soldiers with equipment and training for battle. Once they're home we have a duty to supply them with the medical care, compassion and resources to adjust again to civilian life.

Remembrance Day gives us pause to remember all those who sacrificed their lives for this great country. Lest we forget the veterans who are still here.

A mild case of Halloweenitis

That's me with my brother Sean when we were kids. Our father carved this pumpkin.
He's gotten more creative with his pumpkin carving these days.

There are people in this world with what I call Halloweenitis. Symptoms include decorating their 'haunted' houses, dressing up in costumes and scaring little children when they come trick or treating.

I don't suffer from complete Halloweenitis but I do exhibit some its symptoms. Don't ask me why but I get uncontrollable urges at this time of year to carve. I've never come across a pumpkin I didn't want to transform into a jack o' lantern.

To curb these urges I've hosted pumpkin carving parties for the kids. This year we're having our party on Oct. 30. I've got the garage prepped and 25 pumpkins ready to go.

My parents have wondered aloud how I could have come to enjoy pumpkin carving so much given the limited exposure I had to it growing up. My brother Sean and I would help Mom and Dad out but the bulk of the carving was left to our parents. I guess a 'seed' was planted back then and it's grown into a full fledged tradition now that I've grown up and have kids of my own.

Rebekah, Tavish and Bronwyn haven't known Halloween without the carving party. It's looked forward to by everyone and I hope it continues for a long, long time to come. I realize one day my kids will leave home and I'll lose my excuse to host a 'kids' pumpkin carving party. Only then will I have to admit I've been suffering from symptoms of  Halloweenitis for decades.

Like most viruses that travel through the house though I'm hoping one, if not all three kids catch it. Misery likes company and maybe one day the party will  continue at one of their homes. Or 'grandpa' will continue the tradition giving us all an excuse to get together to carve up a dozen or so jack o' lanterns. I can think of no better tradition to carry on.

Big chicken at Bowmanville's Fright Night

Halloween, you either love it or hate it. I know people who hate it. They're not very fun. Last night I met a lot of fun people who share my affection for spooky stuff at the Firehouse Youth Centre's fourth annual Fright Night in Bowmanville.

Paul Dobbs and a crew of volunteers put together this much anticipated event that had people lined right up Church Street in the rain. I got there with my kids Rebekah and Tavish and my daughter's friend Hannah and we waited for two hours to get in. But the wait was worth it.

We were told that at any time we could yell the safe word "chicken" and all the creatures would cease their scary antics. I thought my son would be the first one to scream and shout the safe word when we started our tour of the two floors of the Firehouse Youth Centre. It had been transformed into 13 scary Halloween scenes including Screecher, Hannibal's Lecture, The Mummy, and That's Gross to name a few.

This creature of the night came
out to frighten everyone in line.
Rebekah thought he looked 'chik'.
 Her words, not mine.

But I was the one who uttered the first panicked 'ahhhhhh' as a severed hand reached out and grabbed my leg in the dark. That said, I remained tough and refused to shout "chicken". It wasn't easy though!

Each tour was supposed to take 18 minutes but when you're constantly being chased through the dark by creatures that should be dead and buried you tend to hustle. I'm sure we we made it through Fright Night in under 18 minutes.

The event was a lot of fun and I'm sure it was an immense amount of work by all the volunteers who put it together. The fact it was a fundraiser for the United Way was the least frightening part of the whole evening.

With a week to go before Halloween, Fright Night was a good primer for the main event. I can't wait for next Sunday.

Simple suggestions for leading a happy life

Every day each of us wakes up, gets dressed and we make our ways in this great big wonderful world. If you're like me it's go, go, go until your head hits the pillow at bedtime. Then we do it all over again the next day.

Well today was different for me and my wife. Today we slowed down to pause and reflect with a great man, the Dalai Lama.

The Dalai Lama was in Toronto at the Rogers Centre speaking about Human Approaches to World Peace. I really had no idea what to expect from this discussion. But there was something special about being in the presence of the Dalai Lama, a cute, unassuming Tibetan monk with a contagious giggle.

"We all want to live a happy life," he said.

Agreed.

Then he told the 15,000 people assembled how to achieve happy lives. The formula's simple -- compassion for other human beings, truth and dialogue. There's no problem or conflict in this world that could not be overcome if the parties involved just sat down together and talked it out, he said.

He wasn't saying anything profound or what we didn't already know. But sometimes egos, stress and agendas cloud our vision. This could happen on the world stage and also in all of our daily lives.

I sat there in awe as the Dalai Lama spoke. When he was finished he answered questions from people who had submitted them online. One question was whether a future reincarnated Dalai Lama could be female. He said the world would be a better place if more women aspired to leadership roles because one, they are generally more compassionate than men and two, they're more attractive.

 I couldn't have agreed more.

When the Dalai Lama was done he wrapped up the discussion in his own unique way.

"There, I'm done, that's all. Goodbye."

Then he put his hands in front of his head in a prayer pose, bowed and walked off the stage to a standing ovation.

Such simple ideas for living a happy life. It's time to put them into practise.

Up close and personal with Chantal Kreviazuk

My wife Heather has always been a huge Chantal Kreviazuk fan and through her I also came to know and love her music. This shared appreciation has taken us to see her in concert many times over the years but last night we got up close and personal with Kreviazuk at the Imagine Film Festival at Ontario Shores Centre for Mental Health Services.

Kreviazuk was the festival's special guest and she shared her family's connection with mental health, namely bipolar disorder with about 250 people in the small lecture theatre at Ontario Shores. It was a powerful, raw discussion meant to address the stigma attached to mental health issues and for me it was a real eye opener.

For years I've enjoyed Kreviazuk's music but I had no idea where the inspiration came from for her songs. She talked about her connection with bipolar disorder and how she's been able to incorporate that into the lyrics of many of her songs. It has given me a greater appreciation for the singer-songwriter. When she performed Surrounded it was like hearing the song for the first time again but enjoying it even more.

 Afterwards there was a reception for the guests assembled and Kreviazuk came out and spoke to us. I've seen her on stage, I've seen her on TV but seeing her standing right in front of me was a first. She was completely relaxed and at ease with everyone. To her this must have been just another event like so many before where she's been the special guest but for those assembled it was a chance to meet a Canadian celebrity. Kreviazuk connected so well with everyone. I think it had a lot to do with the common interest we all shared in mental health issues. Kudos to Ontario Shores for making it happen.

Like I said before, I've been a fan of her now for many years but I only knew Kreviazuk as the beautiful singer I've seen on stage with the amazing voice. I now have a completely new appreciation for her and her music.

What's on your bucket list?

My wife Heather is very cautious with her credit card. She rarely uses it without asking me the same question -- "can we afford it?"

But a few months ago Heather used the card without hesitation to buy tickets to see the Dalai Lama at the Air Canada Centre. He's going to be in Toronto on Oct. 22. Tickets purchased online she called me with the good news.

"I got us tickets to the Dalai Lama," she said.

"You got us tickets to who?" I asked.

"The Dalai Lama," she repeated excitedly. "He's on my bucket list."

Heather studied philosophy and religion in university and is probably the only person I know who has a Bible that looks like a well worn textbook. Using a highlighter on the pages of the Good Book just doesn't look right to me! She knows her religion and likewise she knows way more than I'll ever know about the Dalai Lama.

What caught me off guard though about her mention of the Dalai Lama was her bucket list reference. I had no idea seeing him speak was on Heather's list of things to do before she dies. A visit to Israel, I knew about, but not the Dalai Lama.

It got me to thinking, what's on my bucket list? To be honest, I've never really considered a bucket list but if there was one thing I'd like to see happen it would be to have one of my completed books published before I die. Right now the finished stuff is children's material. Seeing it published would be a rush. But the novel I'm working on would be the absolute topper. The trick at this point is finishing it in the limited time I have while juggling career and kids.

I'm going to give this bucket list thing more thought because most people have  more than one thing on their 'to do' list before they die. See the Leafs win a Stanley Cup? That would be nice but I have no control over whether this current four-game winning streak they're on ever turns into a playoff run.

If anyone who reads this has any bucket list suggestions I'd like to hear them. In the meantime I'm getting ready to see the Dalai. Lama next Friday. It should be interesting.

What's so big about Big Blue?

Big Blue is here or so read the pamphlet that came with my new recycling bin.

The Regional Municipality of Durham's Works Department has been dropping off these giant blue bins for the past two weeks. They're being distributed to approximately 184,000 households across Durham Region.

For those who know me it's no secret I'm a fan of recycling. My garage is full of blue boxes and a green bin, my backyard sports two composters. So when I heard residents were getting these Big Blue bins I thought the recycling program was expanding. According to the pamphlet that came with Big Blue that's not the case.

Rather than expand the program to include more items such as clam shells and take out containers, these newer, larger recycling boxes are simply to put your plastic containers and bottles into, items we currently put into 'Little Blue'. Paper and cardboard products will continue to be put into the same blue boxes they've always been put in.

So what's so big about Big Blue? As far as I can tell nothing. We're just being asked to put our bottles and plastic containers into it. Now, half the blue boxes I've purchased on my own will more than likely go unused.

Am I the only one who really doesn't need Big Blue? Maybe. By looking around my neighbourhood  enough of my neighbours already have plenty of little blue boxes to accommodate their bottles and plastics. Big Blue to most of us is just a big waste of money.

That said, I will use Big Blue. I've never met a recycling container I didn't like. I just question the necessity for it now. These containers should have been around 15 or 20 years ago when recycling programs started.

Keeping my hoops dreams alive

About a million years ago I walked out onto the basketball court, all 5-feet, 7-inches of me, and began my very own hoops dream.

For a few years the dream was alive and well because at my height I was about a foot taller than most of my friends. But I was an early bloomer, you know, the guy who shoots up in height past his friends in grade school. I felt like a giant. Then I stopped growing and by high school even the shortest kids were taller than me.

Yes, the hoops dream died an early death but I still enjoyed the game and continued to play at my old high school, Eastdale Collegiate and Vocational Institute. ECVI beware!  Okay, Eastdale wasn't known for its powerhouse basketball teams back in the 1980s but we tried hard. And as I recall a lot of us still had hair, big 80s hair.

I wasn't a starter but third off the bench at least kept me in the game. Just being on the court, making plays and scoring the occasional basket was a rush. My coach, Dave Cutler, taught me a lot. He also yelled a lot and scared the hell out of me on occasion. But he commanded respect and knew the game.

I'm older now but I still enjoy the rush of hitting the hard court every Tuesday night at a local high school with a great group of guys. Tonight was our first night back after the summer break. It wasn't a pretty night but that's what pre-season is all about.

I still have hoops dreams but these days they're slightly different from when I was a teenager. I dream these days of being able to get out of bed the morning after basketball without being in agony!

I am the Furnace Nazi

Everyone has a season they love and for me fall is that season. It's the time of year when heat and humidity no longer dictate whether you go outside, a season where you can breathe easy, especially if you suffer from allergies or asthma (something that runs in my family).



I welcome Sept. 21 with open arms and once October hits I'm one of the happiest guys around. I love this month.

Despite my affection for fall my family has a slightly different view of the season. The cooler nighttime temperatures bring with them an unhealthy urge to touch the thermostat. I do not have that urge but every other member of the McMillan clan does. To them I say, "No heat for you!"



Yes, I admit it, I am the 'Furnace Nazi'.

For those of you familiar with the television show Seinfeld, you'll remember the Soup Nazi. He made the best soup in New York but if you didn't ask for it just right he'd deny you the soup. It was a hilarious episode and it made actor Larry Thomas a household name. "No soup for you!"


Ian McMillan is the Furnace Nazi



While the Soup Nazi denies soup, the Furnace Nazi denies heat. If you're cold in my house put on a sweater and throw another blanket on your bed. I firmly believe no furnace should be turned on until November just like I do not believe Christmas merchandise should be displayed in stores until after Remembrance Day. It's just not right.

Am I the most popular person in my household right now? No. But I am who I am and who I am is the guy who pays the heating bill. And if I stop paying that bill it will certainly get a bit chillier in here than it is right now.



Strategic voting gets you nowhere

In 2006 Buzz Hargrove put his arm around federal Liberal leader Paul Martin and embraced strategic voting. In doing so he turned his back on the NDP, a party he had previously embraced and had been a card carrying member.

Why?

Hargrove felt that by embracing the Liberal party he could persuade CAW members to switch their allegiances from the NDP and in doing so stave off the Conservatives led  by Stephen Harper. We all know how that turned out. The Conservatives formed a minority government and have been in that position ever since.

Hargrove had no confidence in the NDP and in a desperate move felt strategic voting would save the day. What Hargrove didn't understand then but probably does now is that strategic voting is for losers and it's seen as weakness by most people who bother to get out and cast their ballots.

The spectre of strategic voting has again reared its ugly head in the Toronto mayoral campaign as Councillor Joe Mihevc, a traditional NDP backer, has turned his back on mayoral hopeful Joe Pantalone, also a NDPer, to back George Smitherman. He believes Smitherman is the only candidate who can defeat Rob Ford who is way ahead in the polls. Again, this is a move of desperation that will fail.

I've always believed that you should vote with your conscience for the candidate who you think will best serve your city. If I lived in Toronto I would only vote for Smitherman if I felt he was the best person for the job. There's no way I could hold my nose and vote for somebody I didn't believe in but felt had a better shot at beating the frontrunner. That's like giving up your vote.

Call me crazy but I believe in voting for someone. Back your candidate, support him/her and live with the consequences. I don't take this responsibility lightly and could never be convinced into marking my ballot in a way that would prevent someone from winning. Vote for your candidate not against another candidate.

Theoretically strategic voting sounds good but in practise it doesn't work. Those who consider it have given up and should just stay home on election day.

Political daydreaming

Twenty years ago today Bob Rae did the unthinkable -- he became Ontario's first NDP premier.

I remember watching the television that night and seeing the stunned looks on everyone's faces as the ballots were counted. The Rae government was elected with just 37 per cent of the popular vote but they won a majority of the swing ridings.

Liberal arrogance lost Premier David Peterson the election that year, not brilliant NDP strategy. He arrogantly called the election just three years into the Liberal-NDP coalition government much to the dismay of voters who didn't want an election.
Peterson didn't think he could lose the 1990 election. After all, the Conservatives had just made Mike Harris their leader and the party was nowhere near ready for an election. And the NDP had never formed government in Ontario before so who was going to vote for them? Well Peterson was right about the Conservatives but wrong about the NDP.

Fast-forward to 2010 and what do we have? Another self assured Liberal premier in Dalton McGuinty who's banking on Ontario voters being afraid to vote for Conservative leader Tim Hudak in fear of another 'Common Sense Revolution'. Andrea Howarth and the NDP, who will ever vote for them again anyway?

Ontario voters are ready for change. A recent Toronto Star-Angus Reid survey showed 76 per cent of the electorate want a new government at Queen's Park.

Granted, McGuinty has taken a beating over the summer with the HST and hydro rate increases. Any poll now would show the Liberals in a free fall. The party's numbers are bound to improve before election day in October, 2011.

The Liberals are bound to go on the offensive any day and give Conservative leader Tim Hudak a taste of his own medicine. Every day I get two or three media releases from him attacking the McGuinty Liberals. It will actually be refreshing to see McGuinty fight back because there's nothing I like more than seeing Conservatives under attack.

I expect the Liberals will attack Hudak for all his failings -- translation, they'll tie this Conservative government to the previous administrations of Harris and Ernie Eves. Could it work? I can't wait to find out.

If it does and voters go to the polls in October, 2011 who will they vote for? A Conservative party they're afraid of or a Liberal party they want to turf out? Or will they protest and mark their ballots for a party that has no hope of forming a government? Will history repeat itself 20 years later?

Howarth better be prepared for the unthinkable if that's what happens.







A not so 'happy' recall notice

Last spring when the movie Shrek Forever After was in the theatres McDonald's helped cross-promote it with glasses depicting Shrek, Donkey, Puss in Boots and Princess Fiona. I remember it well because Shrek and his pals were advertised everywhere around the restaurant not to mention in television commercials broadcast across North America. So when the kids asked for one we said yes.

A few days ago as I sat in a booth eating a spicy Thai salad while the kids indulged in their Happy Meals I glanced up at a small glass encased bulletin board when something caught my eye -- a recall notice. There, in black and white, the notice told customers who had purchased those colourful Shrek glasses to return them to the restaurant for a full refund. Nowhere did it say why the glasses were being recalled. For more information it told you to call a customer service number. But here's the best part, the recall notice was dated June, 2010.

A quick check on Google soon gave me the reason why McDonald's recalled the Shrek glasses -- pigment in paint on the glasses contained cadmium and that long term exposure to this substance "could cause adverse health effects."

I couldn't help but think how often my family's used the Shrek glass since last spring. It would have been nice if we'd known about its recall in June when it was first announced. I realize now, almost four months after the fact, that the recall was published in a few daily newspapers. It's too bad I did not see those stories. Now if McDonald's had put even a fraction of the effort into promoting the recall as they did the original movie I may have discovered the recall earlier and taken the damn glass out of the cupboard. It was just plain dumb luck I saw the notice when I did. Better late than never.

The cadmium in the paint on the Shrek glasses will not kill anyone and there have been no reported sicknesses since McDonald's became aware of the problem. That's the good news.

What irks me though is the lack of play the recall got despite the fact that 7 of 12 million of the glasses were sold across North America. Good news gets big play while bad news is downplayed despite the fact it deals with the health and safety issues of customers. It's just not right.

Winds of change for Ontario

Of all the methods of producing electricity the most common in Ontario are nuclear and coal. Both methods keep our lights on but they share one negative -- pollution.

Coal fired plants are dirty and spew toxins into the atmosphere. Nuclear reactors leave behind radioactive material that has to be stored for hundreds of years.

Another method of producing electricity that I didn't give much attention until August was wind turbines. The technology has become very popular and is said to become even more widely used in the next few years. The upside is that wind turbines produce zero pollution.

I think wind turbines are cool. They're big, white, powerful and tower over everything around them. The one at the CNE I often watch as I'm stuck in traffic on Lakeshore Boulevard.

In August I took the family to beautiful Bruce County to a cottage in Port Elgin. The countryside up there was beautiful, farmland everywhere resting on the shores of Lake Huron. This wasn't the first time we'd been to Port Elgin, we'd traveled there before five years ago. What caught me off guard on this most recent trip though was the number of wind turbines that dotted the landscape. Driving between Port Elgin and Kincardine there were wind turbines as far as the eye could see. For someone like me, a creature of the Greater Toronto Area, the sight of so many of those structures was a sight to behold.

I Facebooked about it and got a reply from a former colleague of mine, Dwight Irwin, who now resides in Ripley (near Kincardine) that wind turbines weren't all they're cracked up to be. There's a lot of opposition to them up there. Noise and vibrations were the most common complaints. They do make some noise I will admit as I stopped at the Bruce Power Information Centre where there were quite a few of those wind turbines set up. But given the majority of the wind turbines were located out in the middle of huge swaths of farmland, kilometres away from any residential areas I found it hard to believe noise could be that big a problem.

The Province of Ontario is on track to quadruple wind capacity by 2015 according to a story in the Toronto Star (http://www.thestar.com/business/article/866129). It's going to cost as much as $14 billion according to the Ontario Power Authority. That's a lot of coin but with Premier Dalton McGuinty vowing to take coal fired plants offline he's got to come up with an alternative fast. And given the new nuclear build at Darlington is on hold right now until the sale of Atomic Energy of Canada Limited -- a federal Crown corporation -- is taken care of wind turbine generation seems to be the direction the government is blowing. Even if AECL wasn't for sale it would still take 10 years to build the new nukes so something needs to fill the electricity void being left by coal plants going offline.

When it comes to electricity there's really no technology that's going to please everyone. We all want the lights to go on when we hit the switch. Nuclear doesn't seem to be going anywhere soon so replacing coal with wind seems like a good idea to me.

Relearning an old habit

One would think that given the number of years I've been practising handwriting it would be easy passing on this skill to my son.

Not so.

I sat down with Tavish this week to start the cursive handwriting process using the alphabet. We started at the beginning with the letter A. Simple enough.  I put my pen on the paper and told him to watch how to write a capital A.

"You go like this. . ." I said. But my hand didn't move.

I sat there for a few awkward moments trying to remember the proper way to write an A. Over the years my capital A's have taken on a life of their own so I didn't want to begin the lesson teaching my bad habits. He'll have enough time to develop his own.  As I sat there thinking Tavish turned to me and said, "Come on Dad, let's go."

"Just a second, I have to ask your mother something," I said.

Heather said it was just a small A only bigger. But somewhere in the back of my mind I could picture the cursive alphabet above my Grade 3 chalkboard. So what did we do to find the answer? We turned to the Internet. Figures. I go to teach my son an old fashioned skill and I need to turn to the Internet to figure out how to do it.

Most of us write in our own ways. We learned handwriting the proper way but then over time developed our own styles. I'm no different, you're no different. It's only until I was asked to show Tav how to go teach him the basics of cursive writing that it dawned on me that I don't remember a lot of the basics.

We've gone over the letters up to F and Tav's learning just as much as I'm remembering. We're both getting something out of the exercise.

Burned out over electricity costs





A couple of years ago I wrote a column about my frustration with energy efficient light bulbs. In a nutshell I said they were a sham and light bulb manufacturers were making a killing off of suckers like me who thought they were doing good by the environment.
Consider this the sequel to that column.





Those twisty light bulbs were touted as being able to last for years as opposed to the old fashioned light bulbs that lasted a few months at best. I'm looking at a box of the twisty little deceivers right now and it says in bold type 'Lasts 7 years GUARANTEED'. That's funny because I installed the light bulbs that came from this box just last summer and guess what? Three of the five burned out this week.

On the other side the box of those energy saving mini twister lights is an Energy Star symbol proclaiming the bulbs will save me $376 in energy costs over the 7 years they're in use. It should have read 'íf the lights last that long'.

It's also difficult to appreciate a $376 savings when Premier Dalton McGuinty has guaranteed  all Ontario taxpayers will pay more in electricity costs when he takes all our coal burning plants offline, has every household outfitted with smart meters (peak period billing means more money for hydro, less money for you) and let's not forget the HST that we now get to enjoy on top of the 'debt repayment charge' on every electricity bill.

I'm feeling about as burned out now about electricity costs as these useless twisty bulbs.





Get it right, then get it up

Being a member of the media I know all too well the rush you get breaking an exclusive news story. With it comes accolades from your peers and it builds you a solid journalistic reputation with your readers.

The opposite can happen when you flub a story. Errors happen daily in newspapers across the world and every reporter who's made one knows the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you open the paper and see the mistake. There in black in white is your screw-up for everyone to see. It sucks.

The Internet has made it even quicker to break an exclusive story. As a journalist you're not constrained by deadlines. As soon as your story is done it can be published by the simple click of a button. Twitter, the online micro-social media site, can make the story go viral in a matter of minutes. Such was the case this week when a Toronto Star reporter Tweeted that former Toronto Maple Leaf's coach Pat Burns had succumbed to his cancer. The only problem with his Tweet was the fact that Burns wasn't dead.

It didn't matter that the Tweet was quickly deleted once the mistake was discovered. By that time it had travelled around the globe and condolences were being posted on Twitter, Facebook and other social media sites. On other news sites it was being reported as fact before anyone had bothered to pick up a phone and confirm the information.

A former colleague of mine used to say "Get it up, then get it right." I never agreed with that method of thinking. I understand the pressures of media competition, especially in Toronto. Having worked in that city for 14 years I know how intense it is to break the news first. But before you Tweet something as a journalist you'd better know for sure it's factual, especially if it involves the death of one of the most popular Toronto Maple Leaf coaches in recent memory.

Many reporters and news organizations can be followed on Twitter and Facebook these days. I follow countless news sites and media colleagues to keep in touch with what's going on in the world. I'm a news junkie so this is what I do. I use Twitter for professional reasons and post to it in a professional manner. If I wasn't in the media I probably wouldn't have much use for the site.

Having said that, news items I post to Twitter are finished and edited. I link all of them to durhamregion.com because I want as many readers as possible to come to my site. If what we're posting to our website turns out to be consistently factually incorrect or not interesting I'd lose my followers and traffic at durhamregion.com would drop like a stone.

Reputations are tough to build in this business and they can be ruined in no time flat if you don't do your job right. Journalists shouldn't take Twitter or Facebook lightly. If you post to these sites in a professional capacity it's the same as if you were publishing a story in a newspaper. Get it right, then get it up, not the other way around.

Found money, is there any better kind?

There probably isn't anyone reading this who hasn't found money before. Whether it's a penny, loonie or something of a more significant denomination, discovering cash is a rush.

The first time I came upon lost money I was in Grade 2. I was sitting by the long jump pit in the schoolyard with my back to the fence. On the other side of that chain link was a $2 bill. Yes, those were the days before toonies, back when paper money ruled the day. If you had coins in your pocket they usually didn't add up to much.

I stretched my fingers through the chain link fence and bingo, the money was mine! Well, it was almost mine. I took it to Mr. Horton and turned it in. Two weeks later he presented it to me in front of my classmates. I was the poster boy for honesty and being honest paid that day. I used that two bucks to buy a C-240 skateboard, the single best purchase of my life.

Fast-forward to the late 1990s. I've just purchased my first new home with my wife Heather and my in-laws are up visiting. It's raining outside and my backyard is a huge pile of mud. I look out while speaking with my mother-in-law Kathy and there staring up at me from a puddle is Lester B. Pearson. Cha-ching! I used that $50 to buy my young daughter Rebekah an Elmo doll.

I figured nothing could beat finding $50. But I was wrong.

In 2004 I went out to the Black Dog Pub in Scarborough to interview an author who had written a book on pubs. It was early afternoon and the place was empty. Once I was finished with my interview I moved to an empty table while our photographer took a picture of the guy with his book. Looking down at my notepad I spotted a $5 bill by the leg of the table. I bent down to pick it up and beside that $5 bill was a $20 bill. Beside that $20 bill was another $20 bill. Cha-ching! I put that $45 in my previously empty wallet. Life was good.

The very next day I was at the gym and between sets I took a break and was just sitting there staring at the floor. Part of the floor fluttered and caught my attention. When I looked down I saw a $20 bill. There was nobody around me so I picked it up. Cha-ching!

A few days later I was sweeping out my garage on a windy October evening. I was alone with my thoughts when I was rudely interrupted by the Queen. That's right, a $20 bill blew up my driveway and landed right on my broom. In a period of seven days I'd found $85.

I haven't found anything since that windy October evening but whenever my kids pick up loose change from outside and come rushing in to show me all the money they've discovered I always enjoy telling them my stories of found money. They always enjoy hearing them and I get to re-live the rush of telling them about found money.

This lesson brought to you by . . .

When I worked at the Scarborough Mirror the newspaper did a story on a school that had a track and outdoor basketball court refurbished using the rubber from old sneakers. It was a very cool environmental project that allowed the school's old outdoor facilities to be transformed into new.

The cost to the school board for this project? Nada. Nike picked up the tab and the whole community benefited.

There was little if any downside to this project. The only complaint I heard was a grumble here and there about the Nike swish plastered everywhere. In my mind that was a small price to pay to get kids out using the outdoor track and basketball courts again.

I now have three children in the school system and I'm beginning to think business sponsorship is the only way to give parents a break. Every school year there are fundraisers for school equipment whether it be something for the gym or white boards (that is something our school has put in its newsletter since our eldest daughter started school nine years ago. You would think the school would be flush with white boards by now!).

But what about text books? Each and every year during the first weeks of school my kids bring home notes asking for money for these school essentials. Today Tavish came home with a $25 request for an agenda, math and language textbooks. Rebekah came home with her own note asking for the same amount of money for similar textbooks. Bronwyn hasn't had her first class yet but I'm hoping JKs aren't expected to pay for textbooks as well!

Would it be too much to ask the Province of Ontario or the Durham District School Board to provide textbooks? Long gone are the days when our tax dollars paid for everything but give me a break. Parents these days are being asked to fund for everything from pencils  and erasers to textbooks and yes, even white boards. Maybe Nike or Nintendo would be interested in helping out our school board with some funds. Plaster the halls with swishes, put the Nintendo logo on the inside cover of every textbook, whatever. At the end of the day all our kids need access to a proper education and if the current model of providing this education isn't working, fix it. If that means corporate sponsorship for the essentials, make it happen.

I saw Nike provide outdoor physical education facilities for a Scarborough school that could not afford it. I think it's time the Durham District School Board consider similar methods of funding because it's clear to parents the system the way it's set up is not working now.

A new twist on an old skill -- handwriting

My son Tavish came back from his first day of school today and as he was telling me about a million different things he said something that really caught my attention.

"Dad, Mrs. Dickson said we're going to learn handwriting," he said.

Handwriting, what is that?

In these days of the mini computers and text messaging I thought handwriting was a long gone thing of the past. But my son's Grade 3 class will be learning the skill.

Tavish during a lighter moment.

Tavish's sister Rebekah did not learn handwriting. She's now in Grade 7 and couldn't physically write a sentence if her life depended on it. Text it, no problem, type it, no problem but write it, big problem. I don't believe handwriting is anywhere in the curriculum but certain teachers, such as Mrs. Dickson, take it upon themselves to pass along the skill.

I remember learning handwriting in Grade 3. I also remember the days when all your assignments had to be handwritten, double spaced and legible. It wasn't until high school when teachers began expecting essays to be submitted typed. Ask a student today what a typewriter is and see what type of a reaction you'll get!

Computers have made handwriting a thing of the past. Why write something when you can type it twice as fast?

I still write in my journals with a pen. I think it reflects a bit of my personality. Some days the writing is perky and bright, other days  it's sloppy. By just glancing at the page you can almost get a sense of how that day was so many years ago without ever reading a single word. The ebb and flow of the pen almost tells a story itself.

I'm happy Tavish is learning this new skill and I think I'll send Mrs. Dickson a note -- a handwritten one at that -- expressing my feelings. Maybe I'll write it in Latin...

One big plastic mess

The other day I saw a picture of hundreds of plastic bottles and other plastic scraps floating in the ocean. It was a mass of crap discarded by people no different than you and me.

It got me thinking, why do we use so much plastic?

When I was a kid one of my first jobs was as a bottle boy at Becker's Milk. My main responsibility was to take returned pop bottles (or soda bottles if you prefer) and carry them downstairs putting them in their appropriate crates. Coke products went in the red crates, Pepsi products the yellow crates, Canada Dry in wooden crates and all Becker's Cola bottles in green crates (I can't believe I still remember this!). There were also smaller crates for the 10 ounce bottles that used to be popular with kids. Once a week the Coke rep would pull up in his truck, take all the sorted red crates and drop off crates with full bottles. Ditto for the Pepsi and Canada Dry representatives.

It was an efficient and environmentally responsible system, one which the Beer Store still uses today. Unfortunately the Beer Store is one of the last companies still doing right by the environment. Cola companies today use plastic for practically everything. Glass bottles have gone the way of the dinosaur.

Somewhere along the line somebody figured out that more money could be made by using plastic, not glass. The compromise? Recycling programs such as the blue box. Today the Region of Durham is inundated with pop bottles, yogurt containers, milk containers and the like. One of the most common things found in blue boxes around my neighbourhood is water bottles. Guess who sells most of these? You guessed it, cola companies.

Now if every plastic bottle used made it to the blue box there wouldn't be a problem. But that's not the case. Take a walk anywhere and you're bound to find plastic bottles of all shapes and sizes littering roadways, ditches or schoolyards.

Let's also not forget the plastics that the blue box program doesn't accept. Buy a cooked chicken from the deli counter at any grocery store and the plastic container it's in has to be discarded in the trash. You can't even recycle the paper Tim Hortons coffee cups because apparently they have a microscopic plastic layer in them.

Earlier this summer an outside company inspected Durham Region's trash to see if residents were throwing away the right stuff. Since the green bin program went into effect a few years ago the Region's been monitoring what we throw out to make sure the majority of us are recycling responsibly. The company reported in an Oshawa This Week story (http://www.newsdurhamregion.com/article/156855) that they were shocked by the amount of plastic in our trash. This plastic wasn't the type residents are able to recycle.

Plastic is everywhere and unfortunately it doesn't biodegrade. It's no wonder we find it littering the oceans, our neigbhourhoods and schoolyards.

When I first saw that picture of a big mass of plastic bobbing in the ocean I was surprised. I shouldn't have been. We put it there.

Making softball memories

When I was a kid summers meant ball season. I loved playing softball and took every opportunity to throw the ball around. The person who always played catch with me was my Dad.

I must have drove my father nuts with my constant requests to "play a catch". I would wait for Dad to come home from work and before he had changed out of his work clothes I'd ask him to throw the ball around outside. He rarely said no although I know most days he wanted to spend just a few minutes decompressing his day with my Mom. Together we nearly wore holes in the front yard where we'd play catch.

When you're young the world is all about you. I was no different than any other young person then or now (despite the fact I cannot technically be classified 'young' anymore!). Deep down I knew I was pushing my luck asking Dad to go outside twice a night, seven days a week, sometimes more on the weekends. But playing ball was my life and I wanted to embrace it at every opportunity.

Fast-forward to present day. I have a son Tavish and he enjoys softball just as much as I used to growing up. Now, instead of asking the question, "Want to play catch?" I am being asked, "Want to play catch?" And just like my father never saying no, neither have I.

I have a many reasons for picking up the glove and going outside to play a catch. Foremost, I love my son and the fact he wants me to play with him more than anyone else fills my heart with joy. I also must confess to being an old kid who still loves to play softball. Hearing the snap of a ball hitting the sweet spot in your glove is a rush. So is the sound of a bat making solid contact with a pitch.

There's another reason why I go outside whenever Tavish asks me to. It's what my Dad taught me. I think I loved playing softball so much because he was playing it with me. The love of the game was my love for him.

I had a memorable childhood on many of the ball fields in Oshawa. I hope my son has just as many of these memories to reflect on when he grows up. Who knows, maybe he'll have a son who asks him, "Want to play a catch Dad?"

Fitting in

My little angel Bronwyn

I have three children, Rebekah, Tavish and Bronwyn. Rebekah was a joy, Tavish a treasure and Bronwyn, well she's turning out to be a terror.

I should have seen it coming. Of the three kids, Bronwyn was the only one to sleep 24-7 for the first two years of her life. I thought No. 3 was a dream come true, no worries, no hassles, just sleep.

Then Bronwyn woke up.

From the moment she woke up until now has been a wonderful challenge. If you're ever seen the television show Family Guy you'll recognize this famous Stewy line, "Mommy, mom, mommy, mom, mummy, mom, mom, mom, mommy, mummy, mom, mummy, mom, mummy."

That's my youngest. Please notice her because if you don't she won't stop asking you to notice her.

This whole three children dynamic is new to me. I grew up with one brother, Sean. It was never difficult getting along because Sean was very good at doing anything I told him to! My parents probably recall a few backseat arguments but by and large two was a manageable number. Three kids in one family, that's new territory for me.

To be No. 3 you have to be stubborn, loud, devious, adorable and persistent. You must also have the knack for driving your two other siblings crazy. Bronwyn has mastered her role in this family.

The other day my mother-in-law Kathy mentioned how Heather never enjoyed walking anywhere and she was a bit of a whiner. I looked at Heather then I looked at Bronwyn. Heather was the third of three kids and so too was Bronwyn. Two peas in a pod!

We may want to freak out sometimes at the antics our little three year old is putting us through but at the end of the day we both know Bronwyn is just doing what she's supposed to do -- fitting in the only way she knows how! I wouldn't want it any other way.

Hernias don't have heartbeats

Hernias do not have heartbeats. That's the wonderful lesson my wife Heather and I learned three years ago. I know what you're saying, hernia, heartbeat, what's the connection? Well, her name is Bronwyn and she's our little baby oops!

Heather knew her four day a week gym regiment wasn't working. She wasn't losing an ounce and her hernia was acting up, especially during certain exercises. So she went to the doctor to see what could be done. We both thought surgery was in Heather's future. We were right, we just didn't realize the type of surgery.

Heather's doctor did what every good doctor does during an examination. But the look on his face was not one of concern, just of disbelief.

"How could this mother of two not realize she's pregnant again?" he must have been thinking.

So when Heather asked him again, "Is it my hernia?" he answered, "No, hernias don't have heartbeats."

Heather's jaw hit the floor. And when she opened the door to the doctor's office there was her mother-in-law sitting in the waiting room. That's the chance you take when you share a family doctor. She saw Heather's face and immediately thought the worst.

"What's wrong?" she asked in panic.

There was no way to dodge this bullet so Heather said it, "I'm pregnant."

She was 38 and pregnant . . .  again!

That's the beginning of this story but there's more, much  more. Stay tuned.