L'impacte de l'oiseau

I hope Pea never puts up filters.

My mother-Pod-in-law recently started taking Pea to an Early Years centre near our house. When she's there, Pea has the chance to play with other kids her age. This is a bit of a novelty for her since she has a relatively small circle of friends that she sees quite rarely, because they live far away and Pea can't yet drive anything other than a large mouse with wheels.

Every time Pea returns from the Early Years centre, she comes armed with some kind of art and/or craft masterpiece (and yes, the mere fact that my daughter made this item makes it a masterpiece... you got a problem with that?).

Recent crafts include a 'oiseau' (we live in Canada, I shouldn't have to translate that... in case I do, see the above photo) and a mask.

The mask is beige, with some hairy stuff taped around the edges for effect and beauty. When I look at this mask, it's clear to me that both thought and care went into picking the amount, thickness, density and exact location of this hairy stuff.

In seeing this mask, I have a very rare but vivid flashforward.

I could immediately picture Pea in a small studio, somewhere outside of Venice or London, crafting piece after glorious piece of expensive, highly-coveted art. Like all great artists, she'd be in an extremely intense frame of mind, probably standing a few feet from her canvas and aggressively tossing the paint with a brush.

A digression, I apologize.

My stereotypical view of artists aside, it wasn't the idea of Pea creating that I was really focused on, it was the immense and obvious pride she felt at what she had done.

My little girl's unfiltered pride may be my absolute favourite form of expression, second only to her laughter.

So when I arrive to pick Pea up one day, she runs to the door, mask in hand, to show me what she's created. She isn't worried about whether I will like it or not. She isn't concerned that she missed a few spots with hair, or that maybe an older kid's mask was more elaborate and decadent.

She was clearly proud of what she had done an it showed on her face and in her body language. I could tell she was trying to hide a growing smile on her face, and that she cherished what she had made just as much as I did.

I'm trying to avoid the temptation to bring everything she has ever touched to work to show my colleagues, because the experience of seeing my prideful child is something I want to share with everyone... but that few people other than me and the Pod will actually care about.

I guess that's my unfiltered pride, shining through. And I dare you to tell me it isn't warranted.

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she never puts up filters.

Vince, how could you?

I hope Pea doesn't put her hopes in Vince Vaughan and Jon Favreau.

Saturday was not my best day.  For the most part, it was just Pea and I and throughout the day I was bested several times by a toddler.  An emasculating experience, if there ever was one.

It started out well enough.  Pea had a swimming lesson and while we arrived a little late, we were both pleased to hop into the water... until we realized that the water in the pool was absolutely freezing.  As I cursed under my breath, Pea and I reluctantly splashed around for 5 minutes before Paulina, our swim 'instructor' (she barely does anything that can be deemed instructing) decided we should all head to the hot tub to warm up.

Are toddlers even supposed to go in hot tubs, I wonder?  Oh well, too late...

Once in the hot tub, we slowed down our pace considerably.  I was content to just hold Pea, and she was content to just be held.

Until she saw the slide.  The small yellow slide.  That she loves.

Pea insisted that she go down the slide before we leave, which meant I had to hop back into the ice pool to catch her.  As I muttered more curse words under my breath, Pea gleefully slid down the slide.  I made sure she never touched the water, I think... when a guy goes from a hot bath to a cold shower, his mind tends to wander.

So, the first part of the day ends with two undescended testicles and a rather lethargic baby.

Once home, I decided to ride the wave of lethargy and put Pea down for her nap a little earlier than usual.  Ok, an hour and a half earlier than usual.  What can I say?  She was clearly tired and I figured, why not?

After her nap, a good one by Pea's standards, it was 'lunch time.'  I painstakingly made her pasta, with veggies and meatballs while she was asleep and she ate two noodles and half a meatball, methodically pushing aside all form of veggie.  She then refused yogurt, insisted on having a banana only to peel it and play with it, and then had me give her an apple so she could essentially rub it on the table.

Fine, she wasn't hungry.  But I lost it about a dozen times while trying to get her to eat.  It wasn't pretty.  And only one testicle had descended at this point.

If you've ever tried to reason with a toddler, you'll know that they are essentially liars and cheats who will do and say whatever it takes to get what they want.  Not on purpose, obviously, but it is nevertheless an agonizing experience to take someone at their word only to have them laugh in your face while they do exactly what they just said they wouldn't do.

The lesson here: if you ask a toddler if she wants an apple to eat or to play with, and she says she wants to eat it, she's probably lying.

After 'lunch,' our next stop was the mall.  I had to line-up to get the money-grab sticker for the car and truth be told, Pea was a pretty good little girl while we waited in line for over an hour.  As a reward, we spent 20 minutes in a Bozo the Clown car, one of those $1 rides at the mall.  She loved it, and I loved watching her play.

Next stop — home for dinner.  Logic would state that if she didn't eat lunch, she'd definitely be starving for dinner, right?   Wrong.  For an accurate description of what ensued over dinner, please re-read the above lunch passage, and multiply by a factor of two.

At this point, I'm practically pulling out my hair.  The crankiness, whininess and spontaneous bursts of frustration were unbearable.  Pea was pretty emotional too.

By the time the Pod got home, I practically ran out the door.  I figured a bad day is best soothed by chinese food... and for the first time in months, a DVD rental.

By the time I got home, the Pod had put Pea to sleep and we were ready to unwind with our take-out and out movie.  Things were looking up.

Sort of.  I rented Couples Retreat.

Wah wah wah waaaaaaah.

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't put her hopes in Vince Vaughan and Jon Favreau.

Um, wow.

I hope Pea isn't subjected to bad bus shelter advertising.

Along my brief walk to and from work every day, I have the privilege and honour of of seeing some of the country's finest advertising work.  There are some billboards, but very few. Mainly, I'm privy to some excellent bus shelter work.

In case you missed it, that last sentence was rife with sarcasm.

Don't get me wrong.  I have many friends who work in advertising and there are some really great attention-grabbing bus shelters out there.  Some advertisers do great work.

But, like any realistic Dad will tell his kids, you can't win'em all. Or, in this case, you can't Wind'em all.

For the past few days, I've noticed a Wind Mobile ad that has been driving me crazy.  Mainly because I just don't like it, but in large part because I can't imagine trying to build a brand without clear advertising, especially in such an important industry.  

As I do from time to time, I imagine conversations between people I don't know.  Seeing this bus shelter ad made me wonder what the ad approval session was like in the Wind offices when this gem was given the thumbs up. Here we go...

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: I think we should talk up the fact that we don't have contracts.  It says here in my Advertising for Dummies book that we should focus on what makes our product unique.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: I never would have thought of that, good thinking.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Yeah, thanks.  I got this book for Christmas.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Score!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Ok, so we don't have contracts.  We are a relatively new company, and a lot of Canadians won't know anything about us.  They won't necessarily recognize our name, so...

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: ... so we should definitely keep them guessing!  That way they will have to go out of their way to find out about us, like a cool club that doesn't have a sign!  Try this idea on, see how it fits... let's not even put a photo of our product on the bus shelter!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: You just blew my mind. 

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Thanks.  I had a muffin for breakfast.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: I can tell.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Ok, so no photo of our product.  What about the ad copy?  Should we make it clear, or vague and confusing?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: I heard Snooki and J-Wow on Jersey Shore saying that everyone likes a little mystery and intrigue in their lives... it makes things exciting.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: I saw that episode too, but I think they were talking about what they like in men.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: But it must apply to advertising too, right?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: I'd imagine so.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Great.  

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Ok, so how's about "Don't sign right here please."

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: What do you mean?  I don't get it.  Does it mean, "Don't vandalize this bus shelter?"  It's pretty confusing.

Long pause.

Together: It's perfect!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: But maybe we should put a little bracket at the bottom that says "No contracts."

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Did you read that in Advertising for Dummies?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: (flips through the book) I can't remember, this book is so big, I only skimmed it.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Ok, let's include it.  Why not?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: This is really coming along. What about colours?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: How about green?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Really, green?  I've heard green is an extremely difficult colour to reproduce in print.  It can look very unappealing and it has an environmental slant that many people find off-putting.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Where did that come from?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: The book.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Right... but green is my favourite colour!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: That's so true, you always look good in green!  It brings out the colour in your eyes!  Let's do it.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Yay!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Ok, so let's recap.  We have a bus shelter ad with no graphic representation of our product despite being new to the market.  We have sloppy and confusing ad copy.  And a bad colour that you look good in.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Way to go us!

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: Do you think we should get sign-off on this one?

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Naw.  Let's surprise our co-workers with our cleverness and outside-of-the-box thinking.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #1: You just blew my mind. Again.

Inexperienced Ad Employee #2: Thanks.  I had a muffin for breakfast.

All this to say, the ad wasn't something that appealed to me.

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she isn't subjected to bad bus shelter advertising.

Olympic Tears

I hope Pea doesn't overlook the many fine winter sports we have in this country.

So.  The Olympics.  They're here.

Like most of you, I imagine, the TV at our house it is constantly tuned to CTV for coverage of the games.

One great thing about the Olympics, apart from the world's best athletes, is the coverage and attention paid to the families of the athletes.

Let's take Alex Bilodeau as an example.  If you watched Alex win Canada's first gold medal on home soil in moguls, you will of course have seen an elated man who thrilled his nation.  You will have seen a humble man who gave credit to his family and friends for helping and supporting him to this incredible accomplishment.

You will also have seen Alex's family jumping for joy with the rest of the crowd, but for different reasons.  Alex's parents were celebrating a lifetime of sacrifice, tears and success right along side their son.  It was emotional to watch, and as always, got me thinking...

The whole point of this blog is to help me decide what I'd like Pea to become... by eliminating the things I hope she doesn't become.

Well, I'm practically balling here, watching Maëlle Ricker receive her gold medal for snowboard cross. It's a great moment for her, but it's the constant shots of Maëlle's mom that've got me all teary.

Now I'm watching Marianne St-Gelais win silver in short-track speed skating, and her family is going nuts too... her Dad, a man who appears to be a pretty tough and macho fella, is working hard to fight back tears.

To watch your child achieve such heights must be an incredible feeling.  I guess I've decided Olympic medallist wouldn't be so bad.

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't overlook the many fine winter sports we have in this country.

There, but for the grace of God...

I hope Pea doesn't forget the importance of true empathy.

I got a new job recently.  It's awesome... but it's also the reason I haven't been able to post as frequently as I used to.  I'm struggling to get into a rhythm and I'm typically pretty tired when I get home... I usually have just enough energy to watch Lost and then hit the sack.

My daily commute is just about the same, but now, instead of spending 3 hours a day sitting in a car, fighting traffic and snarling uncontrollably, I find myself enjoying the suburban commuter train to get to and from work.  I'm actually enjoying something called "books," although I can't yet bring myself to read Twilight in front of complete strangers.

Someday.

After I get off the train, I walk about 15 minutes to get to my office.  It's a busy walk, with hundreds of people walking in the same direction, trying to get to work as fast as possible and out of the cold.

Along my route to the office, I pass at least 6 homeless people.  In the morning, they are usually huddled under a blanket sleeping, trying to fend off the cold and wind.  In the evening, they are often awake, hat-in-hand, asking for whatever change passers-by can spare.

In my ignorance, I have always wondered how someone can end up homeless.  Don't they have families to turn to?  Did they really exhaust every possible avenue of support?

As a result, I have admittedly been selfish and less than empathetic.  I rarely give any of my own money... misguided, I've always assumed they are drug or alcohol addicts and that they essentially brought their fate upon themselves.

The reality, as I am coming to understand it, is that mental illness often plays a big part in the rapid downward spiral that afflicts many homeless people.  Undiagnosed or misdiagnosed patients rarely get the help they need... the mental health system in this country is in complete disrepair and before the individual even realizes they need help, things are often too far gone.

Houses are lost.  Families, who once did everything in their power to provide support, are exhausted and bewildered.  

Homelessness is not the choice.  It is the only choice.

I passed a homeless man the other day and it occurred to me that he was likely, as some point in his life, very similar to me.  He probably held down jobs in the past and had a place to hang his hat.

Regardless of the circumstances that brought him to this place, whether he is addicted or ill, this man's hollow eyes were probably once full of hope and excitement.  His face, now covered in a long black beard, was probably clean shaven and soft at some point.  And I'm sure people looked to him for support and guidance much like Pea looks to me for this same purpose.

It was this last thought that gave me pause.  A wife?  A family?

My life has been forever changed since I met my wife, and since Pea was born.  I simply cannot imagine a scenario where they are not in my life every day.  I can't imagine losing the laughter that fills our home when we play together.  I can't imagine not seeing them in the mornings or kissing them goodnight.

I can't imagine any of this, perhaps, because I don't want to.

My views on this topic are quickly shifting.  I'm beginning to consider the potential back-story that has led homeless people to their current situation, and I'm definitely aware of the blessings I have been afforded in my life.

In small ways, I am beginning to change my behaviour.  I don't avoid eye contact anymore and I am apologetic when I don't have anything to offer them in support.  I'm beginning to realize that whether they are affected by mental health issues or addiction issues, they are still deserving of the simple courtesies that I afford all other people I encounter.

After all, there, but for the grace of God...

I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't forget the importance of true empathy.