Monday, December 26, 2016

the flip of a coin.


"i worked my way up from nothing to a state of extreme poverty." groucho marx.

a coin fell out of my trousers as i stripped them off. i'd like to say it was during an exotic, erotic, exciting encounter, but unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, i was at the health club.

the coin rolled under a bench and initially i couldn't find the thing, ended up crouching down, searching underneath. meanwhile, an elderly gentleman asked what i'd lost and, similarly wearing only his knickers, immediately joined me under the bench. that was spectacularly unsettling to me: the two of us half under with our backsides up in the air. finally, i located the damn coin, snatched it, and immediately realized it was only a lousy quarter. that somehow made the whole sordid affair so much worse.

sitting on the bench to catch my breath, i decided that twenty-five cents was so not worth getting down on all fours with a mostly naked strangely friendly old guy. it really shoulda been at least a tooney. if the situation ever repeats itself, i decided there and then that i'd require confirmation of the coin's value before stooping to such a level.

what we should be willing to do for money has always been a conversation worth having. there were a few mornings, for example, as i drove through a blizzard, basically risking my life to get to my job, just to sell jewellery, when i asked myself: 'wtf?'. sure, it was a short conversation, but definitely worth having. i got a lot out of it.

"those are my principles and if you don't like it, well, i have others." groucho marx.




Sunday, December 18, 2016

i'm here now. are you?


"if we hope to go anywhere, we must step from where we are standing. If we don't really know where we are standing, we may only go in circles.” jon kabut-zinn.

having invited folks from the ukraine and/or russia to let me know what their attraction to my blog is, the only comment i've received so far has been from a woman who lives on my street. and she's originally from this street. i doubt she's ever been to the ukraine or russia, and she just wanted to know what exactly i meant by writing that my world has become small.

well, i've been fortunate enough to have travelled extensively, stumbled through high mountain passes, been lost in exotic markets, given a few questionable speeches, written a couple of forgettable books. now, i'm fortunate enough to just be here, shovelling snow from my laneway, walking through wakefield village, chatting with friends, writing this blog. my world has definitely shrunk over the years and maybe that's just the way it should be as you grow older, or not.

the last time i had a physical, i discovered that even my carcass is shrinking. it was the first examination in several years and i was strangely excited. but, the nurse measured me and i was immediately shocked to hear that i had shrunk down to 5'9 3/4". i'd always been 5'10 1/4". i insisted she measure me again. unfortunately, the second time confirmed the first time and i wanted a third time only she weighed me instead. she pronounced me to be 180 pounds and again i was shocked. i'd always hovered around 165. so, sensing my dismay and not waiting for me to insist, nurse ratchet rolled her eyes, plunked me back on the scale and, sure enough: 180. i shook my head and muttered to myself: "great. i'm slowly turning into a short fat guy." shrinkage. in fact, if one certain rather strange and mysterious part of me gets any smaller i may have to buy a dress. i realize there are great sales happening at this time of year, but geez.

obviously, ones world becoming smaller does not preclude one from following world events, having opinions, feeling for the poor, downtrodden, sick, dispossessed and oppressed, of which there are too many. but, i do believe that the best way to bring peace to the world is to strive for peace in ones own life. after all, are there not a plethora of peaceless world movers and shakers out there (?) 

Thursday, December 15, 2016

the trickshaw wallah.


one of the first places i wanted to visit in india was bodh gaya, the place where the buddha allegedly gained enlightenment while sitting under a bodhi tree.

i arrived in the night by train at the nearby much larger town of gaya and was immediately mobbed by a bunch of rickshaw wallah. i jumped onto one rickshaw and asked the driver to take me to the buddhist vihara. the guy peddled along steadily for what seemed like a heck of a long time, but i'd been told it was close to the train station. i tried to ask why it was taking so much time, mostly by barking at him uselessly in english with accompanying hand-gestures, and i became increasingly anxious after each time he'd smile back at me reassuringly. mercifully, he finally pulled up beside a building and motioned that we'd arrived. i paid what felt like a pile of rupees, but i was still almost completely unfamiliar with the currency at that point. anyway, i checked in, went to bed and slept the sleep of the dead.

in the morning, one of the red-and-orange-robed monks brought me a great cup of chai and a terrible plate of toast. once i readied myself for the world, i got up onto my hind legs, climbed down the concrete stairs, through the small terrazo lobby and out into the already oppressively hot sunlight. the state of bihar was in the grips of a prolonged and crippling heat wave. it took me a bit before my eyes adjusted to the light, and then the very first thing i saw, right across the circle, was the train station.

the realization that i'd been cheated catapulted me into a terribly unpleasant state of mind. it was not pretty. i recalled the british couple i met in delhi who were dissolution-ed with india because they'd been ripped-off, twice. i strode purposely over to the station, to where dozens of cycle rickshaw wallah stood patiently waiting for a train, any train. obviously, finding the very driver who'd cheated me, in amongst that crowd, would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack, but i was sure gonna try. i began searching the eager faces of each one. and, as i did, i couldn't help noticing their worn-out rags, their emaciated bodies even while smiling, chattering, smoking their beedees and chewing paan. many were old, some coughing and wheezing. every one of them had that lean hungry look and i started calculating how much, in fact, i'd been cheated: approximately $2.50 cdn. i walked on, to a corner store.      

the proprietor produced a warm 'campa cola' from out of the refrigerator, opened it for me and i sat down on a nearby curb against a big tree. i sipped the warm cola as i scanned the busy morning market, everyone bustling, hustling, when a bird actually fell out of the tree and landed with a pathetic little thud beside me. 

Monday, December 12, 2016

one love, one heart.


i'm big in the ukraine. according to this blog site, more folks read my postings there than anywhere. why? even wtf? maybe one or more ukrainian can shed some light on this phenomenon. next in line, btw, comes russia. i haven't had a lot of contact with that part of the world. however, i've flown over, i believe some ancestors actually came from the ukraine and a russian lady on-line once seemed strangely eager to marry me.

this trend has been building over the past months and has created a situation in which i'm feeling warmer, fuzzier toward those places, those people all the time. i'm like a self-deluded rockstar, high on his own rockstar-ness, who wants to jump off the stage and crowd-surf. i feel like visiting. i wonder if i'd be greeted at the airport, given an award, handed the keys to the city. i actually don't like travelling anymore, but maybe the russian government could help me get elected to public office here.

canada, traditionally the country interested in what i have to say, is now firmly established in third position, closely followed by the united states, most of europe. on the other hand or foot, china, south america, africa, australia and new zealand are not the least interested in my slog and, curiosely, india is only vaguely interested.

perhaps what is even curious-er is that anyone at all is interested in anything i might write. because i really don't know much. i believe we've been sold a bill of goods, so to speak, by our elders. i believe that. i feel that. they told us what we must do to get into some sort of heaven, paradise, nirvana, freedom, salvation, and we bought it. they told us we're better than them, that our way is the right way and their way the wrong way. i don't know that we've been given a heck of a lot of wrong information, but i sure do feel it. maybe ukranian folk feel it too.

what i know is that spending a day like today shovelling, meditating, eating, writing, shovelling, playing scrabble, eating, shovelling, is really very nice. that's what i know. my world is small, white, pretty quiet. that's the way i like it. and yet it includes people from so far away, all faiths, colours, genders, sizes, shapes. love you guys.

'one love, one heart. lets get together and feel alright.' bob. 

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

my mom became my dad.


mom was a pretty scary lady. she could put the fear of god into an atheist. my dad, on the other hand, was a sweet guy who basically buried himself in his work, and who could blame him. be that as it may, they were together sixty-three years. i was gone for nearly thirty of those years and, upon my return in '98, i soon realized something kinda weird and kinda interesting. my old dad had become a little scary and mom had become a little sweet. i think you get my point.

my friend gord, (obviously not his real name), is an internationally respected economist who travels a lot. he almost always flies business class and recently discovered, upon his return, that he prefers sleeping in his lazy-boy recliner rather than the bed. also, he likes tiny bathrooms and tv dinners. i'm just kidding about the bathrooms and tv dinners, but you get my point.

when i first landed at the ashram in india, there was a rather short, painfully shy guy there who'd fall into a heap, a kind of unconscious state, whenever he'd approach the swami. i found that incredibly odd, confusing, fascinating. swami simply would quite gently but continuously punch him on the back as he spoke or joked, even while meditating. this went on for the whole time i was first there. by my third month, the boy would sit up after a while. eventually, i left the ashram and only returned six months later. by that time, i was amazed to see the state of that same guy. he had become stronger, more confident, could even speak in front of the group. now, all these years later, a teacher in his own right, that once painfully shy guy regularly speaks in front of hundreds, even thousands of people. i believe you get my point.

about a hundred and fifty years ago, i visited a friend outside of eugene, oregon. his family had several dogs and one cat. it was a huge property with no close neighbours, so the cat only had humans and dogs to identify with. he knew he wasn't a human and it was, therefore, understood and simply accepted that the cat considered himself to be a canine. he slept and ate with the pack. he liked to play fetch the stick. he even tried humping my leg at one point, which was wrong on so many levels. i was strictly celibate in those days after all. ok, i'm sure you get my point.

"you are the average of the five people you spend the most time with." author and inspirational speaker, jim rohn.