Runaway Future

Sometimes when I head back to the office after eating lunch at home, I muse that it was like I was barely at my apartment at all. I came home, made a sandwich, maybe watched some Price is Right or read a bit and then it was back to it. The only real remnants of my coming home would be the dirty knife in the sink from my sandwich.

I’ve always had innate goals of leaving pieces of me behind, to leave a mark. Representation of me, something I can point back to, something I can be remembered for. A legacy if you will. Something to be proud of, an achievement.
In Yarmouth, it was the maple tree in front of our house. I didn’t plant it, but like me, it grew up from infancy in front of that house. Anytime I’m in Yarmouth and I drive by the old house, I always look at the size of the tree now. It’s like we’re tied together.

In Chester Basin, there’s a poem I wrote in Grade 5 on the wall of the Legion. Sure, it’s nothing huge, but I was just a kid. It was read at one of their Remembrance Day ceremonies and they honored me and thanked me. It was pretty cool.

In Shelburne, the obvious thing is the skate park. So much so that Jason and I joked that it should be called the Wareham-Forbes Memorial Skate Park, given the fight that we went through to get it built. My only regret is that I had to leave for second year of college before it was completed. Thankfully, the original vision has since been seen through completion and I was able to be a big part of that.

So now, I’m in Halifax and struggling to find my place and my voice. I don’t think redoing the office website or setting up a new server is what I want. Maybe the writing will provide an outlet. Something to be remembered for. To stand the test of time.

Every Leafs broadcast on LeafsTV begins with those words. The passion of Leaf fans cheering for their team. Leaf Nation, the Blue and White Order.

Passion is a strange thing and it obviously directs where you go in your life. Passion for interests, jobs, people and places.

That said, I think a lot of my own navel-gazing and uncertainty can be blamed on maybe a lack of passion and focus. I’ve always kept my interests completely diverse. I joke that I’m an amateur zoologist. But I lack the drive to really follow anything. Sure, I’ve been taking curling and writing relatively seriously as of late, but I would not go as far as saying I’m devoted to it.

Through Facebook, I got back in touch with Kevin Mattson, one of my best friends when I lived in Chester. He was surprised a bit when I told him what I was up to these days. In fact, he admitted that he figured I would be working for NASA or something like that. It’s a little far fetched, but I always have pangs of guilt of where I would be if I had the work habits, the passion to actually apply myself in high school or college.

School came easy to me, and so now I have pretty bad work habits and motivation issues. It’s nothing to complain about really, and I know I’ll grow out of it, but still…“For all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: ‘It might have been.”

“I wanted to have some kind of boundary(…)I wanted something to happen so my choices would be fewer, so my map would have a route straight through, in red. I wanted limitations, boundaries, to ease the burden(…)All I ever wanted was to know what to do.” You Shall Know Our Velocity – Dave Eggers

The book, The Know-It-All that I alluded to earlier (I plan on one day making a post encapsulating all the useless information that I found so interesting in the book), starts with a story about the author thinking he was the smartest kid in the world back when he was younger, but he soon realised that the rest of the world might be up to snuff after seeing a documentary on Hasidic Jews, who as young boys would study for sixteen hours a day. Maybe I need that realisation too, to bring me back to earth and make my own expectations of self to a normal level.

There’s been a lot of talk about the 2014 Commonwealth Games bid, especially around the office. It’s been widely covered in the local media, with both sides of the story getting some press (although in my opinion there have been some interesting decisions made in regards to the coverage provided).

Obviously, it’s a big thing at work and every time we discuss it at staff meetings or even more informally, I realise how important it is for some. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that we have our careers tied to this, although I wouldn’t doubt some do. But my office is heavily tied into this and I kind of fear where we will be if the bid isn’t successful.

A lot of my co-workers are looking at the Commonwealth Games as something to work for if the bid is successful and the expected dozens of jobs at various levels become open. We’d all be in prime positions to apply and work on the Games. My only fear is that after the Games are over, you’re left looking for a new job. For me, I’d be right around 30, which is right around the point where I wanted to have everything settled and figured out for the most part. So, for right now, I’ll jump that bridge when I get to it. They don’t announce the winner until November.

The sticking point of much of the negative talk is the cost and where the money will come from. I’m lucky enough to not pay property taxes yet, so quite frankly, it doesn’t faze me as much. The main thing is that this money is already budgeted and allocated for the Games, so it’s not like it is directly taking money out of other areas.

Every major Canadian city west of New Brunswick has full sports facilities. The thinking is that this is the last time in the foreseeable future that provincial and especially federal funding will become available for such facilities in the area. If the bid goes through, the face of sport and active living in the province and region will be completely changed for the better. It will provide opportunities and initiatives in the province that will never be seen again. If the bid isn’t successful, then suddenly that whole area remains stagnant for as far as can be seen. This is our last chance for such an opportunity.

Worried about the Games taking money from Health? Read up on the facts that long term participation in sport and an active lifestyle help people lead a healthier life. Worried about education? Students who participate in sport are more likely to stick with school and continue into post-secondary studies. Worried about the economy? What about the strain that unhealthy Nova Scotians will put on our health-care system?

Sure, the Commonwealth Games won’t suddenly make everyone in the province healthy and happy, but that’s where the oft-talked about legacy comes into play. Not only will the Games work as a catalyst to help existing athletes stay active and compete at a similar level to the rest of the country, but the legacy of the Games plan to target getting more people involved in sport and then the extra attention and funding will also spin off into larger and more robust programs being offered by organizations like my office.

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Rory didn’t make the All Star game. That might be for the best.

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Mark McGwire wasn’t voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. That might be for the best.

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I was watching TSN and I’m starting to think they’ll need to make some huge changes in the future. The rights to Hockey Night in Canada will be expiring soon and it is expected that CBC will not be able to challenge CTV/TSN on continuing to air hockey on Saturday nights. Plus TSN already has their existing NHL coverage, the CFL, some NBA and MLB coverage, Monday Night Football and some other NFL games, the World Juniors, most curling competitions, college basketball and football, boxing and I’m pretty sure they have some stakes in the Olympics as well.

So either TSN will need to expand (a la ESPN with ESPN2) or a lot more sports will have to be shuttled onto CTV stations. It might be a sad moment if you can’t get Saturday hockey on CBC anymore, but it will be interesting to see how TSN balances the wide range of sports that they look to have.

On Thursday, Chris and I went to the Oasis for some beer and wings. We sat next to the slot machines, near an older lady. When we sat down, she had 60 bucks in the machine. As we were there, she went all the way up to $360 and then started the descent downward. We left when she hit $20 bucks. I didn’t want to see her lose it all.

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A few months ago, I had some pretty deep conversations with some of my co-workers about winning the lottery. Not really about what to do, or how sweet it would be, but the real implications of a big win.
Apparently, you’re ‘supposed’ to not claim the money right off, but before you do, you’re supposed to take some time off work, and talk to a lawyer and an accountant, change your phone number and contact stuff and keep it under wraps, not telling most friends, family or co-workers. Most importantly, you set up a vacation to leave almost immediately after you get back from claiming the prize. Some place far away, where no one can reach you and you won’t be recognized. You call into work, ask for a leave of absence, try not to explain too much by saying it is a family emergency or something.
Then you go to claim the prize. As part of the award, they’ll interview for the media and provide some guidance. Be non-descript to the media, as to not attract attention.
Then you go on your vacation, but not to relax in your new found wealth. Your vacation is to figure out the rest of your life. Where you live, who you help, what you will do for the rest of your life.
Most don’t want to leave their job immediately, but are forced to due to jealousy of co-workers and the fact that you won’t be likely to receive promotions or even raises, because superiors would think you don’t need it. The same goes for where you live, if you get in the public eye, you might find people asking you for money, even those close to you.
So, you start to realise who your friends are and who is important to you and filter out everything around you. It’s not just an easy life of a millionaire playboy. A saddening number of lottery winners commit suicide or have a divorce or something equally tragic.
Maybe having everything you ever dreamed is really a nightmare.

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Along the same lines of making crapload of money, I thought I had it made a couple of months ago. I found Ca$h Games, a website that pays for tournaments of games like Bejeweled. Now, as people who went to college with me know, I am a master at Bejeweled. Honestly, it is probably the only thing I did all second semester after I decided I didn’t want to be a programmer and I wanted to be a journalist. So, here was my big break. I could retire from work and make my living playing Bejeweled.
Sadly, as quick as my dreams were raised (living the life of luxury playing Bejeweled for the rest of my life), they were instantly crushed when I found out the tournaments where you can make money are only available for residents of the United States and the United Kingdom. Guess it is back to the nine-to-fiver.

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Looking back at December, it’s almost shocking the tragedy that populates the first few weeks of the month. The Halifax Explosion was on December 6th. John Lennon was killed on December 8th. So was Dimebag Darrell. The murder of the women in Quebec was on the 6th.
Despite all the holidays, December was a pretty rough month…

To sin by silence when we should protest makes cowards out of men.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, an America poet in the late 1800s and early 1900s is attributed with that saying. It’s been used in numerous locations ever since. I was introduced to it during the opening screen of the movie JFK.

Indeed Mrs. Wheeler Wilcox’s saying captures it all. Don’t get your mouth shut against injustice. So here goes I guess.

When I went home to Shelburne, the talk of the town was ‘those damned weblogs’. I had heard about them prior to going home, as it’s something that is passed around amongst all of the ex-pat Shelburnians in some sort of way to keep in touch with one another and in the know about what’s going on in the town.

There was one in the beginning, Dirty Shelburne. Rife with accusations, ponderings and inflamatory remarks, it (thankfully) disappeared from the landscape as explosive as it appeared to start. But like a disease, the idea spread.

I’m not sure how many of them there are now. I don’t care. I don’t read them and I think they’re filth. I’m not going to even try to link to any of them, because the whole thing is upsettingly ridiculous. That’s not me trying to be high and mighty over the words of others (I recognize the irony of this post being on my own blog). Quite frankly, I find it all saddening.

What we have is a bunch of anonymous people (apparently county residents), posting what amounts to libel about other county residents. There’s no morals or reasoning, there’s no sense of responsibility or accountability, there’s no point. It’s gossip, but instead of vapid remarks on what celebrities aren’t wearing underwear, it’s about neighbours. It’s pure, unadultered and most importantly faceless hate.

And it has people talking. Or not talking really. Like I said, I heard it brought up a lot when I was home. But everyone is suspicious, no one wants to say anything that draws attention, because they don’t want their good name dragged through the mud. Someone even mentioned that they’ve heard of people scared to write to the letters to the editor in the Coast Guard, just because of the backlash. Sure, people should stand by their words, but who wants to be mindlessly attacked. And it is mindless. It’s mindless and cruel and harsh and it hurts to think that there are people in that town that I grew up with that harbour such pure hatred for other people. It hurts to think that those same people smile and wave at the grocery store and then return to their glowing screens to expunge more filth.

A lot of people are reading, just to see if their names are mentioned. A lot of people are writing to pour out the hate in their heart that they are too cowardly to deal with in real life. We’re all invincible behind our keyboards and that’s especially so when no one knows our real name.