Three long breaths

I'm coming up on 4 weeks with this shoulder pain, and unfortunately things aren't really that much better. There's been a bit of improvement, but I'm still stuck in my Lazy Boy most of the day and up most of the night. Really disappointed in my body's ability to heal. 

I finally saw a physiotherapist yesterday and received a personalized exercise plan. Perhaps more positively, though, is that she doesn't think this is a major injury and that it should clear up with time. But that time might be a while. I hope it's not too long. My short-term disability expires in September. 

One of the interesting outcomes of this is applying a bit of meditation practice that I was working on while camping in the week before the injury showed up. 

Whether you're looking at insomnia, anxiety or just meditation, breathing exercises seem to be an important practice to help calm your body and get yourself through hard times. I've found breathing exercises to be very valuable through this shoulder injury.

I was practicing the breathing exercises while camping, just as a meditation practice. Breathe in slowly. Hold your breath for a few seconds. Breathe out slowly. It's amazing how hard it can be just to take three good breaths like that without getting distracted. 

Moving into the early days of this injury, I was using those same breathing practices just to get through some of the pain pangs that I was getting. Just try to relax the muscles so that I could feel a little less pain. 

Now, moving into the exercise and recovery part, that same long breath and hold and out is about 10 seconds long. So I'm using that to measure some of my exercises and stretches that need to last for 30 seconds. Instead of sitting there counting 1 one thousand, 2 one thousand… I just calmly take those three deep breaths with the holds. It counts about the same amount of time, and it makes the stretch a little more relaxed and calm, and I can end on a breath. 

I know it's not as glorious as designing my own crown, but slow, careful breaths have been an important part of my life over the past few weeks, and probably for the next few as well.

I wish this thing would just leave me alone already. I'd like to get back to my life now.

My Crown

This week's post is a counterpoint to a few previous posts by the Navigator. Namely, his post from last week about taking some indigenous history courses and learning about colonialism. And secondly, a post from a while back about making your own coat of arms. 

Being stuck in my Lazy Boy for the last few weeks has allowed me to delve into a few deep internet rabbit holes, as you can imagine. One of those rabbit holes has been watching videos about Crown jewels. But not just the British Crown jewels. The crown jewels of the Holy Roman Empire, the Vatican and other European countries. In fact, I've also learned that many of the trappings of crowns come from Arabic sources.

And so to that end, today's post is me setting out my requirements for my crown. Because the way I've been sitting around in my chair lately, I feel like a king on his throne. Plus all the gout. 

Modernity

One of the things you learn about crowns is that while many of them are ancient and have deep, deep history, a lot of them are made brand new for the coronation of the new Regent. And other Royals get crowns too. Maybe one of the best illustrations of this is the Coronet of Prince Charles, which was designed in the '60s when Charles was crowned Prince of Wales. When King Edward VIII went into exile after abdicating the throne, he took the traditional Coronet used to Crown the Prince of Wales with him. So it necessitated a new Coronet to be made. If you go check out pictures of the Coronet of Prince Charles, you'll see how very 1960s it is. It's undeniable.

So to that end, I want my own Crown to be very modern. I know by the time of Futurama, rings are very retro, but maybe they aren't quite so retro now and could be part of my crown. The papal tiara famously has three crowns on it. To upstage everyone else, I want four rings on my crown. 

Base materials. 

Of course, crowns have been traditionally made with gold and occasionally with silver. The state Crown of the United Kingdom also includes platinum, as does the Coronet of Charles. But we are living in the 2020s, so I need even more spectacular and rare metals in my crown, like titanium or purple gold. 

There are also a lot of modern metal treatments that could look really cool on the crown. You can anodize aluminum to almost any colour these days, which would also keep the crown light. I've also watched a little bit about bluing steel, which looks gorgeous when done correctly. So maybe some elements of blued steel or anodized aluminum could make the crown really pop.

The stones

One of the most famous parts of any crown and one of the greatest contributors to the weight of a crown is the stones placed in the crown. 

The stones in any crown, of course, are beautiful but often have stories as well. It's not like they just dug up a bunch of new stones to make a new Crown. They're handed down. They are stolen, and sometimes they are gifted, such as the Star of Africa stones in the state Crown of the UK. So here are some of the stones that I would like in my crown. 

Lab-grown scientific stones. Sticking with the theme of modernity, I would like to have some of the spectacular lab-grown stones used to create gems for lasers included in my crown. Some of them are fabulously fluorescent and gorgeous. I would like to include a good number of these in my crown. 

Black opal. I have a minor obsession with opals. It came from another internet deep dive sometime in the past. Not this most recent round of illness. But they are the most spectacular stones, reflecting the entire rainbow. But black opals are just a step above. They're so gorgeous. In fact, some are black opal with just purple and blue colouring in them, and I would love several very large opals set in my Crown. 

Stolen stones. Of course, no Crown is complete without something stolen from someone else. I'm not sure whom I'm going to steal a stone from, but with technocrats being the real power holders of today, perhaps I could steal a stone from Jeff Bezos or steal from Drake. But usually they're stolen from someone of lesser caste. So maybe I need to steal it from some hippie chick with a crystal shop.

Gift stones. Many crowns also include stones gifted by other Royals, by the parliament or by the people (mostly rich people) to the Regent. Since this blog only has one reader, it is falling to that reader to provide me with that gift stone. Better get saving, Andrew. 

Other elements 

Relics 

Famously, the crown of the Holy Roman Empire includes a steel ring on the inside that is storied to have been wrought from one of the nails used to hang Christ on the cross. I don't have access to any Holy relics of that type, but once I ascend to the crown, I'm sure that some of these relics will become available. For my part, I believe that I would like a part wrought from a fork used to try and eat the Flying Spaghetti Monster as part of the relics of my crown.

Fur

Many crowns are trimmed with fur along the bottom to make them more comfortable, and I would say even more stylish. It looks like ermine is the animal usually used to trim crowns. But I don't think that's going to do it for me. Now. This isn't a statement on veganism. I'm not saying that it should be faux fur. No, not at all. 

It's been revealed recently that scientists are very close to being able to clone a woolly mammoth from DNA found in rocks or other fossils. I don't know how soft a woolly mammoth is, but lining my crown with mammoth fur would be pretty spectacular. Or maybe there is another extinct animal that we can bring back from extinction that has much softer fur. Or hell. It's 2026. Maybe we can just make our own DNA for our own new animal with the softest fur ever, kill that bastard and line my crown with his fur.

Step it up a bit 

As long as we're leaning into modernity, why do we have to stick with precious metals and precious stones to make up the crown? This thing could be fully lit up and even have a smoke machine built in using modern techniques. 

Obviously we're going to want to include some LEDs in this. But I'm not trying to be garish. I don't want some RGB rainbow pattern coming off the top of my head. This isn't a gaming keyboard. No, no, we're going to be a little more classy than that. Maybe we can mount some LEDs behind the gems so that they shine out. 

And would it kill you to include a few lasers? As soon as I'm crowned, I want 400,000 lumens of laser light blasting off the top of my head. 

Considerations

There are a few things to consider when creating the crown to discuss as well.

Weight 

Crowns are famously quite heavy. It's not just the gold and the silver. The stones themselves are, well, stones, so crowns can be very heavy, and it's even been said you can't even look down without the crown pulling your head down. With my recent shoulder and neck issues. This is going to be of Paramount concern. Hence why I think we need to consider the use of some aluminum in this and maybe some lighter stones.

Payment 

I don't know how to pay for this thing. It seems in the past that the royal families would order this using their own wealth, which is typically very significant or by conning the parliament or government that they work with to pay for it. Again, I don't have access to a parliament or vast familial wealth, so I'll have to steal it from a technocrat. It's fine. They have plenty.

So there you have it, the requirements for my crown. Of course, this doesn't make up a full set of crown jewels. There's no sceptre or sword. No fancy Crown clothing. But I need to start somewhere, and I think I should start with a crown. Because that's a totally reasonable thing to want. I should maybe have my medicine reviewed with my doctor sometime soon.

What Crown Jewel would you like? What would you put in your crown?

Walk Back Technology or Perish

This week's blog doesn't find me very much further along in my healing Journey than last week's did. Still feeling pretty awful and still haven't been back to work. But let's focus on more of a thought piece instead of my screaming shoulder.

There is a group of people in Regina who like to protest for the sake of protest. Or at least it seems that way. They usually set up shop on the corner of Albert Street and Victoria Avenue. There's signs about contrails and technology. I like to call them the "climate scientists". Never really sure what they're protesting about but they sure are pissed and sure love neon paper. 

Which makes it a little uncomfortable to talk sometimes about what it would be like if maybe we walked back technology a little bit. 

In a recent video by YouTuber Alec Steele where he went to an ancient Italian blacksmith that was powered by water. The hammer, the Bellows for the forge, even the welder were all run off of the energy from some falling water. Yes are running like it still operates today. It wasn't even a large or fast flowing amount of water. It was mostly just a stored pond above the blacksmith.

It got me wondering how we could still in the modern-day directly power some of our machinery and technology without having to go through a power grid that strips efficiency from our energy production.

A prime example here in Saskatchewan would be grinding wheat using wind power. It's actually incredibly ancient technology using windmills to grind wheat and other grains. Why couldn't we be doing that here today? Why are we paying a power company to burn coal hundreds of miles away to run grinders for wheat all over the province. A few windmills and we could be grinding wheat a lot closer to where it's produced into flower. It's not like flower needs to be run 24/7 all the time. Anyway, you make flour while the wind blows and I think we'd be able to supply a lot without burning coal or otherwise using a power grid. And I'm talking direct drive technology here. Not electric windmills powering electric motors for the grinders. Like just attach a belt from the windmill to the grinder and get to work. It's all circular motion.

I think we could also use it on our infrastructure, particularly in place of pumps. We could we could use wind powered pumps to put water into stored energy and stored water areas like reservoirs and water towers.

In some ways we see this being done now already. I see plenty of street signs and construction signs that are powered by solar power. Not to mention parking meters like those seen in Saskatoon.

I actually think modern design and engineering has got 90% of the way there lately with USB charging. It's this consistent 5 Volt supply. The biggest problem is that they've designed everything with integrated batteries. If they had made it so that we can replace those 5 volt rechargeable batteries then we could leave a set of batteries at home on a solar charger everyday and switch them out every night for a fresh one leaving our dead one to charge the next day. You could have a few spares for cloudy days or charge it off the grid if it's really bad. It would be great. And if you were on the road and you needed to charge up you can still plug into the wall and charge up like normal. 

But I mean at the same time they can power steel mills with solar energy. So I think people are just making excuses at this point.

It was something I noticed when I was buying a lot of tools for my garage. When I was trying to get into woodworking. It was very clear that everything was just a spinning motor with a different attachment on it. The table saw the chop. Saw the drill, the sander. They were all just spinning motors with something different attached to them. I just wanted to buy one spinning motor and change the attachments. I think we could be doing that with wind energy quite a bit. Just switch out what is on the other end of the belt from the windmill. Instead of converting it into electricity and sending it into a grid. 

What are some ways of using old technology or even rethinking how we will you solar and batteries to produce our energy the you can think of? I think we get so caught up in the fact that renewables can't replace everything that we don't consider how how renewables could replace a lot of things, leaving more fossil fuels for the future and less pollution in the air.

The Hot Shoulder

It's a bit of a cliché that every time you hit a major milestone in aging, your body decides it's going to stop working in one way or another. For example, when you turn 30, it seems you get hurt when you never would have been hurt before. Then you turn 40, and nothing heals anymore. You just cut yourself peeling an orange, get sepsis and die. 

Last year, at 44, I got a little bit philosophical and talked about how I wasn't going to let things bother me and was just going to go with the flow. Take things a little bit easier and maybe enjoy life a bit. 44 was pretty good. I enjoyed being 44. But a week and a bit ago I turned 45, and this is the beginning of the end.  

The problem first started coming back from camping when I noticed that my shoulder was a little bit sore. This is nothing new. It's sort of in that same 30- to 40-year-old aging thing. You take a little bit of time doing physical labour and the next thing you know, you're a little bit sore and hurt. But that soreness was not getting better. 

So on the Tuesday, I asked Rhonda if she'd mind giving me a little bit of a back rub and help to loosen things up a little bit. She was very generous and did exactly that. The back half felt great. A good massage was starting to loosen things up. Was hoping that maybe I could enjoy the rest of my time off. 

Then she said, "Turn over. Let's get the front half." And so began (so far) over a week of agonizing pain, hospital visits and really no end in sight as far as pain and shoulder injury is concerned. 

Wednesday morning, I ended up in Urgent Care in so much pain. I could barely see. They took some X-rays, poked at it, prescribed a few medications for me and sent me on my way. That night, the pain was so extreme and so unmanageable. I found myself in the Pasqua Hospital emergency room.

No shade on the nurse practitioner who saw me at Urgent Care, but there was a lot more going on there than just a little bit of shoulder injury. The doctor at the emergency room diagnosed me with a serious form of tendonitis and took me off work for at least a week. Gave me some very strong drugs and stuck me full of needles and things to try and get things under control. 

 Why is this tube full of air?

It actually took about 8 hours for them to get the pain under control, and if I'm honest, it only lasted about 6 hours before I was back to where I was. But at least now I've got some idea of why I can barely even see straight. 

So yeah, that really is my life right now. Just constant fucking pain. Even this blog is being dictated because the idea of sitting with my shoulders up typing right now is too much to bear. I'll just be happy to dictate today's post to you. But I'm sitting in the sun, and that's kind of nice. Makes me warm. 

Holding it together with hockey tape like my ancestors did.

I'm going to say I'm really impressed and want to vigourously applaud the staff in the two emergency rooms that I interacted with, both at Urgent Care and at the emergency room at the Pasqua. They were patient, good communicators, and they were very compassionate. I got a lot of help and a lot of comfort from them. Bravo to each and every one of those men and women who helped me out. They were great people. 

But the government of Saskatchewan can go fuck itself. I'm not impressed. That wait times I now need to navigate are unacceptable. And to be sure this is painful - but it's not life threatening. God help those people who are waiting on the government to let them die. 

I was given a referral for an ultrasound so we can see what's going on and develop some kind of treatment or intervention to make this better. The very soonest that I can see a radiologist to get an ultrasound is the end of November this year. So, foreseeably, I have to wait at least 4 months to even get a test to tell me what is actually happening in my shoulder so that I can start doing the exercises and treatment I need.

I was also given a referral to a physiotherapist. It's a week later and have not heard or seen a fucking word from any of them. So here I am trying to self-diagnose and self-treat using YouTube and the internet. I hear complaints from people in the medical field about how people self-diagnose and self-treat using the internet and using YouTube, but what the fuck else am I supposed to do? Honestly, what am I supposed to do? I have no access to effective treatment. I might just start bloodletting because what other options am I being given?

And of course there's the mental health part of all of this too that I've got to contend with. I took 2 weeks off of work. One week was going to be camping and the second week was going to be getting some things done. Get someone to come quote a new door in the back, do some work on the lawn, maybe see about getting the car fixed. You know, make some plans and get shit done. A lot is falling apart in my house, and a lot of things need to be taken care of, and I had a plan to do that. Until my fucking shoulder went out on me, and now what? Just let it fall apart, I guess; let it all fall apart because I can't get timely medical help and my body won't let me take care of the places around me until I do.

It also extends to some of the fun stuff. I wanted to maybe do a little bit of recording, sit down and do some multi-track demos. I wrote a song while I was out camping that I'd like to demo out, but I'm in too much pain. I can't even focus right now. If it wasn't for voice-to-text, you wouldn't even be getting a blog this week cuz I just can't do it. 

All that to say, 45 fucking sucks. I wish I was 44 again, and I'm not looking forward to 46. Just hoping I can make it through the next few weeks.

Down in the Valley

I'm a couple of days back from a week camping at Echo Lake campground in the Qu'Appelle Valley. It's one of my favourite places in the world, and Rhonda had to tolerate me insisting we should move there for another week. 

I don't feel that way when I visit the Lumsden, Buffalo Pound or even Manitou part of the valley; it's mostly right around Qu'Appelle, which I suppose makes sense since I was born in Melville. We spent time at Crooked Lake when I was really little, and even after we'd moved away from there, we'd regularly pass through on the way to visiting Melville. Going for ice cream at the DQ still feels like a required stop when I go through town. 

Thanks to non-existent cell service at our campsite and my bonehead forgetting to throw the book I was going to read into my bag, I had a lot of time to meditate and contemplate on the trip. This isn't as disastrous as it seems on the surface. It was a stated goal of mine to get really bored that week, sort of reset the brain box and maybe find a bit of peace in my own mind. And I think I did. I certainly found myself in a few deep meditations and finding peace and rest instead of scrolling. It was very nice.  

A few times I found myself pondering what the valley would have been like for the Indigenous people before Europeans came and took hold of the land. I've heard stories that it was a gathering place and that it was also a place of refuge from severe weather. You could survive a bitter winter or scorching summer in the trees of the valley. Certainly that cool shade was welcome on some of the hotter days last week. 

There is plenty of more modern history written about the area, like the coming of the Hudson Bay, the myth of the naming of Qu'Appelle and most prominently for people who live where I do - the signing of Treaty 4. But I was curious to learn more about that pre-history time. I had some questions. 

Unfortunately, there isn't much of anything online beyond what I've already said. I mean, some of it has a bit more detail, but really what I found could be summed up in a paragraph. I'm curious if perhaps more was happening or about to happen in the valley. Famously, what we call "civilization" was first developed in the Indus Valley, and there are many other examples of civilizations forming in resource-rich valleys all over the world. 

We also know that there were a number of more advanced civilizations in the Americas prior to the arrival of the Europeans, like the Aztecs and Maya. Is it possible that the Cree would have started their own cities in the valley over the next few hundred years if left unmolested by colonialism?

I suppose there's a lot more to it than just having a nice valley and some hard-working people to make something of it. You need things like animal domestication and agriculture. I'm not sure if this area necessarily has the kind of flora and fauna to make something of that, but at the very least, we know people were finding enough to survive here; it's really only a few more steps to building more of that. While we know the bison weren't domesticated, the people in the area of what we call Buffalo Pound built infrastructure to help them harvest the animals. In looking around, I found more modern stories of the people of the valley harvesting berries and roots to sell at the market in Regina. 

So maybe. Obviously, we'll never know. But it seems to me that there was certainly the kind of bounty needed to plant the seeds of civilization, and it was a well-known place of refuge and sustenance. 

But then again, this is me looking at this through a particular lens. Is civilization and modernity really something to be proud of or contemplated? Indigenous people lived in this area for thousands of years in balance with nature. That seems like an enormous success, right up until Europeans came along and stripped away the stories, the culture and the way of life. 

Do you ever contemplate the ancient history of the places you visit? Where is your zen place in the world? I have another visit to the valley scheduled in a few weeks. I'm going to try and take some time to visit the local museums; maybe I can find a book or some other resources to learn a bit more about the valley. 

Delicious, delicious organs

Every few weeks, one of our managers or other leaders will host a learning session during our weekly department meeting. Occasionally, that means we get a guest speaker who works in communications/marketing or public relations in another organization. We've had guests from other government departments, police services and other levels of government. 

They're always really informative sessions, and it's nice to network and connect with other people in the industry. What we do in communications is as much about making connections as it is about writing words on a page. Especially in the PR/Marketing part of what we do. 

Our most recent guest was from the Saskatchewan Health Authority, and more specifically, from the team that works with the Saskatchewan Organ Registry. She talked about some of the challenges and opportunities they've had in promoting the Registry and some of the work they've done to help spread the message. 

In the opportunity column, unfortunately, many of the chances they have to spread the news about organ donation come after a tragedy or loss. For example, after the Broncos Bus crash in 2018, player Logan Boulet donated his organs. This led to a groundswell of people registering and a grassroots campaign to get the word out. Our guest has used that movement to help promote the registry in Saskatchewan and get people talking about it. 

Likewise, in life and in death, Bella Thompson (Bella Brave) and her mother, Kyla Thompson, shone a bright spotlight on organ donation and worked (and still work) with the Saskatchewan Health Authority to spread the word about organ donation. 

The most relatable part of her presentation for me was in one of the challenges - folklore and false information that prevents willing people from registering. It spoke to me because, as someone who works to communicate traffic safety, we run into this all the time. You aren't better off without a seatbelt than with one. The slowest person on the road isn't the danger - it's the fastest people. But try to convince Buddy from Radville of that. 

The other way this connected with me was that I saw I was also a victim of a misconception that was preventing me from being registered to donate. The misconception is that the red sticker on my health card and donation card in my wallet are enough. They are not, and no longer indicate consent to take my organs if I die. Honestly, I think one of the kids tried to tell me this once, and I even ignored her. If you want to donate your organs to help others in Saskatchewan, you need to be registered. Not only does it make it easier on authorities to learn that you want to donate, but what if you die without your wallet on you? I know, you sleep with your wallet, but what if you're taking a shower or someone steals your pants while you're showing off how you can do a helicopter? It also makes your consent very clear and has a feature to inform your loved ones about donating. Best not leave it to chance. 

The good news? Registering is really easy. Like, it probably takes less time than filling out that tiny donation card. And it also looks way better than that ratchet old health card you've had tumbling around since 1997. 

Just visit the Saskatchewan Organ and Tissue Donation Registry website and go through the prompts. I'm positive it took me less than 5 minutes, and that included writing Rhonda a tender message about why I was donating and encouraging her to donate as well. 

That tender message actually kinda choked me up to write. It's hard to think of putting your family through that decision at such a hard time. So it was important to be sensitive, grateful and explain my decision. 

Rhonda, a registered nurse, also registered to donate in response. Her letter was just "yep, I'm donating, thanks for the reminder". Medical people can be so callous. 

If you aren't already registered and organ donation is something you're willing to do for someone else, go do it today and encourage your friends and family to help out too. If you're like me and think that you already were because of the red dot on your health card, well, times have changed. Sask Health may never update our health cards, but you can update your donation wishes! 

If you don't want to, hey, I respect that. If you're willing to share, why not? I'm curious to learn why. My personal belief is that while I might not know exactly where my spirit will go when I die, but I know it's not taking my stuff or my body with it. I'd much rather it be useful to someone else. But maybe that doesn't jive with you. Share in the comments if you like! 

(Heat) Strokin' Out

 I've spent the last two weekends in Manitou Beach at the Manitou Beach Busking Festival as a performer. A fabulous couple of weekends, a well-run event and a great chance to catch up with some old music friends and meet some new ones. 

The first weekend was very wet, the tail end of the weeks of rain we've been seeing around these parts. I'm not being hyperbolic in saying we had rain pretty much every single day for about 4 weeks. Great for the lawn I'm trying to regrow, terrible for my tan. 

Well, the rain finally broke this weekend, and Saturday and Sunday were clear and very hot. For the most part, I handled it well on Saturday. I found shade where I needed to, took long breaks and slammed the first Gatorade I've consumed in a few years. A solid B+ performance for taking care of myself on Saturday. 

Sunday, on the other hand, I threw all caution to the wind. 

Not that it was intentional. I certainly started the day off with good behaviour and made efforts to stay cool and hydrated. But that started to slip in the afternoon. I had picked up an extra busking hour at "il Pirato", the local guitar luthier, and ended up working a second hour when the next performer didn't show up. Happy to play and even happier to make a few more bucks. But I probably should have spent that time in the shade. 

I had to leave that performance and head straight down to the beach, where I had my final performance in the direct sun - already a bit crispy from the 2 hours I'd just spent performing. 

Suffice it to say, it didn't go great. I actually got a clip of video from a friend who was there, and I would really like to just bury it.  You can hear the heat stroke in my performance. 

I drove home straight from the performance, about 2 hours, and while I was tired, I didn't think I was in any extreme distress. I suppose I should have clued in to how I ate the peach on the drive. It was like a wolf going after a toddler's arm in Moose Jaw. Got home, unpacked - all seemed relatively normal. Tired, hungry, but not in any distress. 

Nah, the distress came yesterday. It started the moment I woke up, when my whole body seized up, and I let out a cry that Rhonda could only compare to the screaming of the Nazgul. It didn't take me long to realize that things weren't good. I could barely open my eyes and could only slowly shuffle around the house. I tried to go through my morning routine, make coffee, and get lunch ready. But I soon concluded that I wasn't leaving the house. I probably shouldn't leave bed. 

And so, this is where you find me, reader. I've recovered a bit. The cherry sunburn is turning to a lovely chocolate tan. I can stand upright for a few minutes and even made the trip to the bus this morning. I've still got a pretty sore neck and shoulder from playing so much, but I'm at least mobile again today. 

I'm very glad for the break from the rain. But my God, the sun sure did a number on me! 

Who'll stop the rain?

After a good run of very dry years, summer 2026 has been a pretty wet spring/summer. The snow left late, and I think it's rained nearly every day for the past month. 

Overall, being 44, I'm pretty happy about how it's helping my grass. I've been trying to re-grow my front lawn after the City dug it up last summer to replace the sweet, sweet lead in my pipes with lifeless plastic. With daily rain, it means I don't need to haul the hose out every night to keep the thing watered. I am, however, ready for it to dry up a little bit so I can mow. 

It's hit extra hard in Regina over the last few weeks. Back on June 9, we got hit with a massive hailstorm. Toonie-sized hail, y'all. It was a wild night. I was sitting on the back deck watching the clouds roll in. There was a big, loud blast of lightning/thunder, and then I could just hear this dull rumble in the distance. I sat and watched over the next two minutes as it got closer and louder. To the point where I was a little worried I was hearing a tornado coming, not hail. But then the telltale "ping" of a stone hitting a downspout and the storm front hit. Luckily, our new car was one neighbourhood over and was completely missed. And the Traverse was in the garage. Kayah's car, on the other hand, now looks like a golf ball. And that's not the last abuse we're going to hear about that car here. 

Would I lie to you?

This past weekend brought another dump on Regina, this time just heavy rain. I caught the start of the storm on my way to Manitou Beach, where I was performing at the Manitou busking festival. I texted home and advised everyone to move their cars in. Kayah did not get the message. The water got up to about three feet in the street out front. Amazing, since, as I mentioned at the start of this post, they spent all last summer replacing the plumbing under our street. So Kayah's car got flooded and is now drying in the garage. That poor car may not survive the summer. 

It only got worse from here.

To top it all off, I had to go to Saskatoon for a media event yesterday. Got soaked again. I mean, good for the crops, good for the forest fire guys. I might even be able to get through my summer holidays without a fire ban. And I'd like to enjoy my second weekend in Manitou next weekend without all of the mud. I'm pretty good at camping, and I kept myself dry and comfortable last weekend. But guh that mud all over and just slipping everywhere. Plus, I actually had to dry out my guitar and case when I got home on Sunday. A first for me. 

So yeah. There's my weekly report, from the Vancouver of the prairies. Hope you're staying dry, safe and afloat! 

Another Graduation

 With absolutely no forewarning, Kayah graduated from high school yesterday. 

I joke that there was no warning, but in some respects, I'm serious. It was clear in the conversation Rhonda and I had on the way home after dropping her off that it did kinda sneak up on us. Like Kayah talked about it all year, and we only bought 19 grad dresses, and it was basically all anyone was allowed to mention the last couple of weeks. But I don't think either of us really processed that Kayah was here. 

Kayah is a spicy person. She exploded into our lives and has been the center of so much of our family for most of it. That's not all negative - although there were times it was. She's just a very big personality in a little lady. I think that's why this snuck up, we've kinda learned to maybe put some of Kayah's enthusiasm on a shelf just to preserve our own mental space. 

And lordy, how dynamic this little lady has become. She's headed to U of R in the fall to start a degree in Social Work, with some intention to head into law from there. I can see that path adjusting over the next few years, but at the end of it, I know she'll do her work helping people and sharing that big, caring heart with so much of the world. 

For as chaotic as Kayah can be, the grad itself was textbook boring. 3 hours of names just being read over and over and over. Then another half hour at the prom supper that night. Strangely, I was embracing that boredom lately. There's a lot of talk these days about how we don't allow ourselves to be bored anymore. We always have a phone to scroll or a game to play. I just sat back and let it happen. As it is, even though (or maybe because) I hate ceremony, I don't attend many. A funeral here or there, and the odd award thing is maybe all I have to suffer. I did it a lot more when I was younger, going to church every weekend. Plus, the last few weeks have been chaotic, as was the day itself yesterday. Why not sit back and just zone out? Let the brain drain out some of those harmful stress hormones? 

Aside from the ceremony - which was like every other grad ceremony I've been to - we also went to a prom dinner. Rhonda and I finally got to meet Kayah's boyfriend's parents. She's only been dating him for 3 years. Suppose it was time. They seem like delightful folks, about a decade older than us. Their son is their youngest, and Kayah is our middle kiddo. So they're just wrapping up the kid part of life. We've got 3 more years. 

Various offspring

The day and how grown up Kayah's become didn't hit me until we had the dad/daughter dance at the start of the prom. She's still my little Kayah, but she's so grown up, so full of ideas and dreams and potential. I'm so incredibly proud of her. Not the high school thing, there were like 200 people in that room that achieved that. Hell, even THE NAVIGATOR graduated. Nothing to be proud of there. But she's grown into such a motivated and caring young woman, and dancing with her there last night it just sort of all came to me. Michelle even messaged to ask me where the Dad tears were, like just because I didn't share it on social didn't mean it wasn't there. 

So yeah. 2 of 3 graduated, and I'm sure this last one is gonna happen FAST. It seems like just yesterday I was showing Kayah how to take the bus to school, and the next day it was Jonas. So tomorrow, he should be graduating, right? 

Finals

Kayah is graduating next Monday which means this week... is finals. 

Cue dramatic music

I was bugging her about studying and she quickly retorted that I was probably the kind of person that never studied. I told her I did study but only when I wanted to and I didn't want to very often. So I would settle for for a 70 instead of the high 90s that she's shooting for. 

In my adulthood, I'm finding the best way for me to learn is to learn while I'm applying the knowledge. 

A couple of years ago I graduated from the Public Relations Diploma at the University of Victoria. It was a distance education course that took me about 3 years to finish. It was really in-depth and really rewarding, but I think I got the most out of it because I was also working for a media relations shop while taking the education. 

I was able to apply the things I learned at night to my daily work and a lot of things really stuck and connected because of that. Plus I think I challenged the people I worked with quite a bit. This arrangement really worked for me and it showed up in my marks. I finished the program with a 91% average and a deep understanding of public relations. 

I'm finding the same thing as I'm re-entering the music scene. I'm making mistakes and going down. Weird paths but it's teaching me some lessons while I learn other lessons online and read about things. I've been taking seminars and going to songwriter meetups to try and learn more about the craft. But I'm also out there playing gigs making mistakes in the studio. And meeting people all along the way. I'm having a great time learning this way.

 But, I feel like I'm in my own finals. Maybe an easier like grade 9 finals, but finals nonetheless. After the release of Trevor's Tincture back in May, I've been playing almost non-stop with an out of town gig pretty much every weekend. It's not just teaching me to play and entertain, but how to manage my life and responsibilities while being out so much. It's been busy. Very busy. 

That's not something you can learn by watching YouTube videos or practicing scales in the bedroom. You need to actually do the work to figure out logistics like where you're staying the night, how to plan out your travel to arrive on time (but not too early), how to negotiate contracts and how to handle everyone calling you the "kazoo guy" now. 

I still have 3 out-of-town weekends ahead and then there's really nothing on my calendar for a while. I'm kinda relieved. I could use the break from travelling, spend some time watering my lawn and just generally doing a little bit less for a while. But of course - something will come along. 

Oh and in the midst of this all, Kayah is graduating. 

Sigh. 

 

Damn wee wooos

 Hello reader. I'm feeling a bit lethargic this morning, so I've decided to ask a friend to do a guest post on Pilot's World today. Please enjoy and be kind; she's a new writer.  - Pilot

Hellos!

My name is Ahsoka Francesca Newfounland IV. As my last name hints, I am a Newfoundland-breed dog. I am 5 and a half years old. 

Me enjoying the finer things on Doodey Street

As you know, Pilot is a man, and I am a dog, so I am his best friend. Not just a friend, as indicated in that rather weak introduction. Thanks for the rousing introduction, man. 

An interesting fact about me is that I have lived for my entire life on a street named "Cameron". Even before I moved in with Pilot, the house where I was born was also on Cameron. Just a few blocks north of where I live now! 

It's a pretty nice street. There are lots of trees around to sniff, and on any given day, someone has left a hot dog bun or some leftover spaghetti on the ground for doggos like me to enjoy. It's pretty great.  

But there is another street very close to Cameron that's not so great. Sometimes we go walking on that street. Its name is Doodey Street, I think they call it that after a big piece of shit. There are not as many trees, and there are lots of cars that drive very fast on it. 

But there is one particular type of car that's extra annoying. Always looking for attention, they're constantly screaming, "wee woo, wee woo," or sometimes really fast, "wow wow wow wow." All hours of the day and night, "wee woo, wee woo."

Now, I am as fond as the next person of giving a nice loud "AWOOO" or even a few nice "woof woofs" when you meet someone. I mean, you need to let them know you're excited to meet them. But these guys are next level. You can hear them for BLOCKS. 

That noise kind of annoys me, but it sends my brother Liberty into an absolute crisis. He has to howl back and gets all antsy. Sometimes he even needs to go hide with Mom. He puts on a brave face, but I think he's secretly a bit of a coward. 

But sometimes I get to see these loud cars, and it's even worse than all the noise they make. Some of the cars are small, some even look like Dad's car, which he takes us on rides in. Others are really BIG with lots of hoses on them. Liberty always tells me he'd love to bite one of those hoses, that it's probably way better to bite than the little snakey hose we have in the yard. 

But the worst part is that if they aren't attention hogs enough, they're covered in flashing lights! If I could see colour, I wonder what colour they'd be? Probably glitter. 

The noisy menace is filling my street with water

Sometimes they even escape Doodey and come onto our street, at which point these men in big snow suits come out and start breaking stuff! They take big hammers and start knocking holes in things, then they take those hoses and start filling people's houses with water! I mean, I love water, but I don't want to SLEEP in it. 

Rude. 

The menace kidnaps people across the street.

Sometimes these other smaller ones come, and they just straight up steal people. Sometimes they're strapped to a bed with wheels on it. Other times, they tie a person's hands up and throw them in the back, and the car drives away again with those flashing lights and noises. 

These cars are an absolute menace, and since my Dad isn't doing a DAMN THING ABOUT IT, I call on you, gentle reader, will you please come (bring Capone and Sadie) and tell them to be quiet? Tell them to go inside and leave us alone. I know they can go inside, I saw some going inside their home a long way away on Doodey a couple of years ago when Dad would take me on super long walks. (Hey Dad, when are we doing a long walk again?)

I'm glad that I've been able to catch a few pictures of these criminals from the front window. You can see a lot from there, and I'm always very vigilant to let people know when these bad boys are around. Or if there's a dog on the street. 

In conclusion, I wish there weren't so many grandstanding cars around. We all need a bit of noise in our lives, but I'm totally sick of it. And their behaviour is terrible. They need to leave people alone. 

-Ahsoka 🐾

Old Man Yells at Bus

I ride the bus to work every day, plus any time I need to get downtown. I know the bus isn't for everyone, and it's only because I live in a particular part of town that it comes in as convenient for me. Like faster than driving to work, convenient. Faster than walking, convenient. 

What can I say, I ride a chauffeured vehicle that costs many millions of dollars to work every day. 

Score. 

But the shine has started to wear off my trusty transit transportation tale. 

The longest-standing issue has been with many of the drivers. To be sure, there are many great drivers in Regina Transit, and when the ride is smooth, it's kinda blissful. You can just relax and get home. But there's quite a crop of drivers coming out lately that make me wonder if they truly obtained their Class 1 licence. Jerky stops and starts, and rude behaviour can really ruin that end-of-day ride. 

In some cases, I get it. Being a bus driver seems good on paper, but when you look at the reality, it's not all sitting on your butt saying hello to Mrs. Jenkins. I've seen people full fist punch the bus, overdose and get in fights on the bus. More than any driver is paid to deal with. 

The riders are the other wildcard. Sometimes you can have a deep philosophical chat on the nature of words. Other times, they're punching the side of the bus so hard you wonder how they don't break a hand. Seen people overdose on the bus. And don't even get me started on not being able to use the accessible seating while I'm having a gout attack because some loser won't move. 

And I think that those things are pretty universal gripes with transit all over the world. It's hard to deliver that kind of service well. 

But Regina Transit has started to cross the line with me lately. It started in April when the cost of a monthly pass went up by $9. A 10% increase. Just like that.

Now, I am in a place where I can absorb that cost. I get it, the world is getting more expensive. But, for a lot of people, they can't. So there will be more of those violent encounters to look forward to. 

And the coup de gras? They removed both of the stops where I get picked up and dropped off. Like gone. They won't pick me up there anymore. So this mobility-challenged man is now forced to walk an extra two blocks at the start and end of my day. In addition to the two extra blocks I've been walking downtown for the last 2 years while the City takes FIVE FREAKING YEARS TO FIX ONE STREET. It's tolerable right now in clear weather, but once the snow returns, those extra blocks are going to be un-navigable for me. 

Yes, I'll write a letter. And yes, I'll get my blood pressure up when I read their dismissive response about cost-cutting. Talk about the danger of monopoly, as it is companies are trying to charge more for less, and when it's a government monopoly, they won't even hesitate. 

The next time I see the word "accessible" on the bus, I swear to God I'll deface it. Transit is a service for the lowest earners and the lease priviledged among us. If you're making it inaccessible and expensive, then who exactly is this service serving? 

No one. 

Results-driven Elmer Fudd

Many, many years ago, my youngest sister, Shanna (Soulfood), had a little rabbit named George. George had all black fur and was very small. Like very, very small. I don't know if he was some breed of dwarf rabbit or what, but he was always able to fit in the palm of my hand. 

Shanna always wanted a rabbit, so there was some delight when she finally got one. But at the same time, I don't know that she was in a position to care for an animal yet. At the same time, she was about 15 when she got George, so also just a teenager. And who cares about anything when you're a teenager? 

And so it fell to me on occasion to look after the little guy. Not that this was much of a lift, feed him, clean out his cage, play with him once in a while. One day, while I was playing with ol' George, Mom instructed me to go give that rabbit a bath. 

I recall even saying then, "Do rabbits need baths?" My thought was maybe they're self-cleaning. Like a cat. Or the oven. 

But mom insisted so dutifully, I proceeded. I took George to the sink, put in some water and gave him a gentle scrub. After that, I wiped him off, put a towel in the bottom of the bathtub and let George run around a bit in there to get totally dry - rather than put him back in his cage where his wet fur would just get clogged with woodchips. 

I left for a moment to do something and, upon return, found ol' George dead as a doornail.

It was pretty upsetting. I mentioned it in a discussion with Kayah last week that I haven't faced death that often. Since then, I've said goodbye to a couple of dogs and many fish. But up to that point, it had only been some distant or very old relatives. I'd never stared death in the face. 

Fast forward 25 years to Sunday night (Monday morning?), and I was driving south on Highway 2 on the way home from a gig in Prince Albert. I had just passed the turnoff to Penzance when a streak dashed from the ditch to the left of me and directly under my bumper. The last I would see was two tall rabbit ears before a sickening THUMP. 

Pilot's rabbit bodycount: 2. 

Talk about taking the joy out of a good night. Luckily, the car wasn't damaged, but that poor rabbit is now another mess of roadkill on the side of the road. 

I'm not so sure why Elmer Fudd found rabbit hunting so hard. I've taken two down without too much effort, and in my part of the world, you can walk within a couple of feet of a rabbit. I guess it speaks to the skill and intelligence of Bugs Bunny that he was able to survive so many run-ins.  But I do think ol' Elmer may need some guidance from an experienced hunter. 

Because if I were in a survival situation, I'd be eating rabbit. 

Be Prepared

 I spent 9 years of my youth in one of the various Boy Scouts of Canada clubs. Beaver, Cubs, Scouts. Aside from never really getting my knots down, I enjoyed the experience. Sometimes I wish I still had my Scout book. Maybe I'll find one at a thrift store sometime. 

The Scouts have a motto: Be Prepared. Now, that motto talks a lot about duty, and I think duty and responsibility are important parts of being prepared. But I've always felt that being prepared was a lot about being ready to respond to a large range of scenarios. You could be useful, but also life-saving. 

The motto seeps into a lot of my life. My everyday carry is a pocket knife, phone and a lighter. They're pretty useful a lot of the time, and they prepare me for a number of emergent situations as well. 

The backpack I take to work is even worse. Pens, a flashlight, a fingernail multitool, a cloth, a notepad, an umbrella and at any given time, typically some coffee, water and food. I'm prepared for an awful lot. Add to that dressing in layers and with some foresight, and I get through quite a large swath of life. 

Enter, last Thursday and a kinda nasty rain/windstorm by local standards. The forecast was calling for some really rough weather. In a first for me, the forecast even said that there was a possibility that utilities could be affected. 

The morning dawned reasonably mild, but it had that wet quality to it that reminded me I should bring my raincoat. We were commenting on the deteriorating weather at every morning meeting, and no sooner had my final meeting in the afternoon ended than the power went out. 

I kept busy for a bit, did my notebook, wrote some emails, and tidied up my desk. But everyone around me was getting more and more worried. The office soon started clearing out. Since I'm just recovering from my most recent gout attack, I opted to stick around until the power came back and avoid taking 18 flights of stairs to street level. Then the evacuation alarm went off. 

So, I grabbed my coat, my backpack, and I headed down the stairs. We were corralled out to the parking lot across the street, out in the rain and wind. Then the instruction came, "If you can get home without re-entering the building or parkade, you're dismissed for the day."

There was some real math here for me. 1 mile walk home, about a 1/2 mile walk to the bus, but there's an even-odd chance that it never shows up because the wind is so bad they're taking them off the road. I chose to take the walk home. The power was out, so there was no light at Albert and Saskatchewan Drive - a dangerous intersection at the best of times. Then just uphill on Albert, into the wind on Dewdney, and I was home - completely exhausted. 

I had been prepared with the right clothing and good shoes. But I was very, very exhausted. I'm out of shape from that gout attack, and I was barely able to navigate that particular situation.

This has brought to mind that old adage of "Be Prepared". Police cam YouTuber, Sergeant Curtis, always talks about officers being in the right shape for the fight of their lives. While I don't know that I'd typically hold my office-job having butt to the standard of a police officer, I do work in an 18th-floor office. Yes, I'm coming off a health issue, but I could be working harder to train up to recover and be better prepared to navigate a scenario like that in the future. 

Because my God, my whole body hurts.

Time to do some cleanup

I sat down to write this post without a good idea in mind. I actually had a beautiful diatribe in mind on Friday night, but I didn't write any of it down, so now I don't have anything. 

I went into my drafts on Blogger to see what I could maybe work with. 39 draft stories. Some are interesting ideas. Some are just cringe. Let's try to knock a few off the list!

US Election
Nov 4, 2008

 

Well it's so historic, so I'd better blog.

The real history here isn't colour or race or age. It's the end of the Nixon era finally coming to fruition. Today will be seen as the day the United States decided to change how it runs itself and how the world sees it.

Make no mistake, the world begins to change tommorrow.

 

Oh, my dear boy. You have no idea. One word - birtherism. You'll look back on the Bush era with fondness.

Defund the CBC?
Oct 10, 2010

I've been kinda toying with this idea for a while, but never found myself in a conclusive place. My argument is that we should be taking the money going to the CBC and spreading it across all independent media. I also think that the harm the Online News Act did to Canadian media, they could be offset by the boost from the government. 

Benn Jordan has some really good arguments and ideas about eliminating copyright and changing how media is paid for. I think big systemic shifts are needed to keep our news, media, art and entertainment solvent. 

What a Storm!

Aug 8, 2007

Well, you didn't write anything at all in this one bonehead, so we only know from the title that it was a big storm. I dunno, I looked it up, and we only got a half centimetre of rain. And you didn't even write a post. Not that great of a storm. 

Magic 103.5 FM is the coolest radio station on the freaking planet.

Jan 20, 2007

Ok folks, so Wednesday hit me with some great news. The contest for free Tragically Hip tickets that I had gotten into the day before, scored me a free pair of tickets for the show last night. So off i went to check out the show with the lil' lady.

How about some video of the show for your guys.

Yup, that was a good show. Kinda surprised I didn't finish this one. You can watch the video here! 

Fun story, while we were finding our seats, we crossed paths with the then Premier of Saskatchewan, Lorne Calvert. And to my shock and awe, Rhonda turned to His Eminence and struck up a conversation. I would later learn that she had known him since she was a kid, and her mom worked for him. She never introduced me, and I've never let her live it down. 

Leaving the Masterpiece Unfinished
Dec 23, 2004

I recently finished reading the Dark Tower series by Stephen King. The first three books were amazing, and frankly I feel some of his best writing. The last four books of the series were crap. I also recently acquired access to the Star Wars SPecial Edition Trilogy. Again, what the hell was Lucas thinking... hell what's he thinking with the prequels for that matter. It just seems that once someone creates something cool, they can't leave it alone to be judged for what it is, or they try so hard to "finish" it that it turns to crap. Maybe Chaucer didn't finish the Canterbury Tales because all he was getting were dumb ideas involving a goat. Does anyone want to sit through another hour of Lord of the Rings:Return of the King?

Poor guy. Doesn't know about Rise of Skywalker yet. Or P. Diddy. 

There was another draft in the list that was just a link to clone-high.com. Doesn't work, but it's still owned by Chorus Entertainment according to WHOIS. Talk about masterpieces left unfinished. 

Picasso's Deli
October 6, 2005

It was a little deli in the old Co-op building in downtown Weyburn. They made a great pastrami on rye, and I ate a lot of sandwiches and soup from that place for a couple of years. Doesn't look like it's still around. 

"This is the Real Issue"
Mar 21, 2008

Chris Crocker ladies and gentlemen,

I had absolutely no idea what any of this was at first. I had to Google it. Known today as Cara Cunningham, they're famous for the "Leave Britney Alone!" video. Considering the life we've seen Briney Spears navigate in the years since, she was lucky to have someone like Cara raising the alarm. 

I'm Hardcore 
Dec 27, 2004

No, you're not. And some of the shit you're going to see and experience in the next year is going to really highlight that. 

You never do get that hardcore. But you're a punk.

Tape
Jan 30, 2026

Masking

Scotch

Packing 

Duct

Electric

Gaffer

Fruit by the foot

Audio tape and video tape

Yep, it was a bit slow in January. You just about got a 2-page list of all the kinds of tape I could think of. Also missing: aluminum, paper, butcher, measure, worm, bubble gum and crime scene.

Well, that took the number of old drafts down to 27. And there are a couple in there that I'm going to build out to full articles yet. I also deleted a couple that were kind of literally nothing. What kind of tape should I add to the list? Do you remember Picasso's Deli? What unfinished masterpiece is your favourite?

Just a pickle in a jar

Probably as a result of my understandable fascination with the recent success of the Artemis II mission, the ol' YouTube algorithm has me back on some Scott Manley lately, and I've been watching some of his old videos. 

One that I'd seen before but sat through again was an episode where he gets to put his head and a camera into a 7K-0K Soyuz descent module. Absolutely soaking in Scott Manley's nerdom, you really quickly learn just how tiny it is in one of those capsules. And you're typically crammed in there with 2 other people. Yeowtch.

The earlier Vostok - and even Mercury - capsules were even smaller. 

Yikes

It's reminiscent of the people who would seal themselves in a barrel to be thrown over Niagara Falls. Just get put in a giant quart sealer, strap yourself to tonnes of explosions and light 'er up. It's shocking more people haven't died. 

But the concept seems to work well. Sealed capsules still seem to be the safest and most efficient way to travel - especially when returning to Earth. The Space Shuttle looks comfortable, but it had a less-than-ideal track record. 

Humans really do seem to have a penchant for canning themselves up and doing something stupid. David Blaine even included brine in one of his sealing projects. Stockton Rush killed $2.6 billion dollars in people when his pickle jar imploded. 

I don't consider myself particularly claustrophobic. I ride elevators comfortably and could hang out in a shed for hours. But the idea of being sealed inside a vessel with danger outside is a bit off-putting to me. Maybe it isn't the capsule, it's the close proximity to the danger that the shell is protecting me from. But again - I drive and fly in comfort, and those conveyances do the same. 

So all that to say. I would like to build a barrel with YouTube to protect me from work. And the kids. 

No Grift Sherlock

Well, leave it to George Strombolopolous to live me a big old kick in the feels again. Actually he's been doing it pretty regular lately, his YouTube really is a great stop for that modern philosopher that's hard to buy for. 

This time he was talking about getting a Sherlock Holmes collection from his uncle. This has a particular resonance for me because I got my Sherlock start through a collection my Aunty Vickie got me. Touche. 

He makes some.great points about how Holmes is an antithesis to modern life. He would sit for hours examining the same thing - see what others miss. Something that's hard to do.in our screen bathed and information soaked world. 

But Holmes really feels like it should be required reading these days. The stories show real logic, reasoning, observation and memory. I think we could all learn a lot from Holmes. 

But I think we can learn a bit from George too. I dont spend enough time reading and even less time reading fiction. I think.thats going to be something I'm going to start.doing more of. 

I've spent much of my adult life thinking I'd put off getting a good book reading lamp for by my bed. Maybe I take some of this cash I'm making and get me a good light. Go to.the used book store and stick my hand in the random bin. Or go to the library! 

What's the Magic Word?

Like much of the prairies, we got a very heavy late winter/early spring snow dump last week. It was about 10-12 inches of snow over about a 36-hour period. Somehow, even though it had only been a couple of weeks since we had snow, the bus drivers in town had already forgotten how to drive in snow. 

As a result, Friday morning found me standing on an unshovelled sidewalk waiting with three others for a bus that didn't come. As we waited the 25 minutes for the next bus, I got into a conversation with one of the guys I often say hello to in the mornings, waiting for the bus. 

Somehow, the conversation got into the history of contract law and how often we accept agreements without even scanning the document we're about to agree to. My conversation mate commented at one point that he thought that words were magic. They can affect your life, change how you behave, and some people build amazing power using words. 

I found myself agreeing pretty strongly with this sentiment. As a professional writer and songwriter, I've perhaps codified and systematized using words so it doesn't seem as magic to me as just advanced use of human technology. As Arthur C. Clarke put it, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." I think we're looking at a version of this here. 

Using words and other communication methods to influence how someone behaves is at the core of the work I do in public relations. Maybe we call it a "call to action" or "intended behaviour," but we could as easily call it "the spell we cast upon the public". Saruman in The Lord of the Rings and Count Dooku in Star Wars are both famous characters who could influence what people do just by talking. Maybe it's no coincidence that both characters were played by Christopher Lee. He could talk me into anything. 

But there is another element that, while we do talk about it in PR, we don't put as much emphasis on. The ability to make people feel a certain way. I didn't talk about it with my fellow bus rider, but I have discussed it with my career coach and with my sister over the last year. The ability to make people feel a certain way. Certainly, the reader of this blog experiences it every week - the ability of my words to illicit deep, lasting boredom. 

As a songwriter and musician, I see how music can be a major upgrade too. 

As my sister and I prepared the music for our grandma's internment last summer, we quickly decided that we were going to make them cry. Not provide some nice sad music. We were going to use our skills, the work of musicians before us and the history of the person we were honouring to make them cry. Magic? Maybe to some. But we knew how to wield it. 

I've delved deeper into it with my career coach, who did an excellent job of reminding me that not only is it a power I can wield, but, done responsibly, many people want me to. People want to be made to laugh, to think, and even, yes, at times, cry. And I suppose that's where we get into the arts and their ability to add something more than stuff or information to the world. We add emotion - we use our magic to bring intangible beauty to the world. 

What do you think? Are words magic? Is music, sculpture, painting, dance or any of the other arts magic too? Does the magic get a boost by being combined? Is there a human technology that seems magic to you? 

Dog-a-betes

 I shared a bit about it in the family group chat and on Instagram, but that's not my blog, so I need to reshare here.

We found out this weekend that Liberty, our Border Collie-Pyrenees mix dog, has diabetes. Looking back, of course, the signs have been there for a while. He's been losing weight, has an insatiable thirst and an ability to pee like no creature I've ever experienced. 

We finally took him in on Friday when it was clear that the weight loss was very serious. The diagnosis was pretty quick, and we spent the weekend taking him back and forth to the vet. They monitored him during the day, and we had him at home to rest and feel comfortable again. 

He's been a total champ. He's less concerned with all the needles than I am. Because I am a wuss with a severe needle phobia. But I guess now I need to face that fear because I'll occasionally need to give the boy the shot. It's against my Hippocratic oath to do no harm - the needle will create a small puncture wound - but I suppose it's worth it to give this guy a long, complete life. 

Of course, this comes with a lot of learning about diabetes for me. How insulin works, what a ketone is and how it is that a dog who's 7 years old, who's had a pretty consistent diet and exercise, could relatively suddenly develop this. 

One of the things I found reading about canine diabetes is that it's usually found in middle-aged dogs, so check on that one. It also usually stays dormant and can be triggered by becoming overweight. We were certainly commenting this past fall that he was getting chonky, and we should probably start getting him on a diet. Check two. 

So yeah. We now have our own Wilford Brimley of dogs. Delightful. 

Was glad to have the old boy home between visits. He even got a chance to help his sister change the blower motor on her car on Saturday night. 

From cat, to dog, to people. We were all very happy to have him home and to know what's up with the poor boy. 

Fly me to the moon

Yesterday, as I toiled away in the word mines of our government, four people broke a long-standing record and became the farthest humans away from earth ever. 

Seems lonely. 

Yes, the Artemis II mission (or more specifically the Orion space capsule) made its lap around the far side of the moon yesterday and broke the old record set by the ill-fated Apollo 13 mission back in 1970. 

The crew was the very picture of diversity. They had a tall person, a short person. A boy person and a girl person. A black person and ... a Canadian. Personally, I think the only reason they didn't have a paraplegic person on board was that the rest of the astronauts would be embarrassed by how well someone who uses their hands to get around would perform. Make them all look bad. 

But I think Canada has been getting shortchanged here. 

"What are you talking about Pilot, Hansen is the first non-American to leave low-Earth orbit."

Sure, yes. We're all very grateful for that. But like. 

Why don't we get a cool name for our space-farers?

Chinese space-travellers are called Taikonauts. Those who have left Earth from Russia/USSR have been called Cosmonauts. I even found that France has their own name for zero-g wanderers: spationaut. 

So why can't Canadians have our own cool name? I mean, we have an entire astronaut corps, and we've sent 9 people to space a total of 17 times.  

Well, as with anything in this world, and consistent with this blog far overstepping it's reach in trying to change the world, I've got a proposal.

Espanaut. 

Reflecting Canada's bilinguality I grabbed the French word for space, "espace," which really has the English word for space in there as well. "Space". 

I also considered Siderialnaut, because Siderial comes from Latin but also is a word still used in English and French. But sidereal more describes the stars and really deep space. Maybe we can use that one when we send the first Canadian to Wolf 359. 

Maybe it's all a wasted discussion, though. Once the Cheeto Benito goes through with his annexation of Canada, they'll all become astronauts again anyway.  

On a separate note, but still involving Canada and space, a comedian at open mic last night pointed out that the entire Apollo program and 50-year absence from the moon have happened since the last time that the Toronto Maple Leafs won the Stanley Cup. They won it in 1967, the first trip around the moon was 1968, the first landing in 1969 and the last mission in 1972. And we just flew past again now in 2026. 

The crux of the joke was that Jeremy Hansen was given the chance to either join a Stanley Cup-winning Toronto Maple Leafs or to be the first Canadian to go to the moon, and he decided to go with the one that had an actual chance of happening. 

Oof. 

Pot-purry

A bit more of a scrambled post today, but hey, sometimes that's how it do be.

I spent a few hours on Sunday night painting a garden gnome sculpture that Tai gave me for Christmas. It had been broken during its delivery, so I had to glue it up a few weeks ago, and this weekend was my time to shine and get some colour on it. 

I think he's pretty cute. I'm going to make a little mushroom to add to his grass stand, too. 

Ahsoka seems to have hurt her paw on Friday during our walk. I'm not entirely sure what she did to hurt it, maybe just a twist of an ankle or something. Or maybe she stepped on something, it's recently snowed - again- so there could have been something hidden. We didn't find anything in her paw, so that's good. And she seems to be recovering nicely. 

I spent some time last night with her enormous rope, just playing some light tug and walking her back and forth in the kitchen. No limps, thank goodness. I'll try her on the normal walk tonight. 

I'm headed into the studio this weekend! It's the first time in about 15 years that I've been in a music studio. Obviously, spent a lot of time in a radio studio from 2015-2020 and was back in one in January when I did a promo for my show. 

It's also the first time going into the studio solo, first time as a lead vocalist, first time as a guitarist and maybe the first time in the whole province with a kazoo. I think the engineer is kinda nervous about that last part! 

I said from the start of Jeremy and his Kazoo that the project would be live performance first and that I'd look at recording once the demand started to appear. Well, it's appeared. I've had lots of asks for Trevor's Tincture and Beef Dylan in particular. I'm going to throw American Kazoo on the pile and go in to record three songs. I actually probably have the budget to do 5 songs, but I think I'm gonna stop at 3, make a plan to get those out, get some buzz and possibly money flowing from those and then do some more recording another time. I don't need to act like it's 1995 and there's a specific path I need to take as a musician. I just need some recordings that I can send people to if they like what I'm doing. 

So yeah - that's what's up in Pilot's World these days. Been playing every open mic I can find to try and sharpen my performance up more, practice up some of the new songs I wrote in February. Hoping that the weather gets better soon, but not betting on it. 

Journal-tism

One of the early motivators in doing Pilot's World was to have a journal of my life to share. Not just with people today, but also for my kids and other descendants. I think many generations will enjoy reading this blog and wondering just what was wrong with me.

But as my job coach pointed out a few months ago, people can have many different journals that do different things. So there's this blog that's a public journal, I have my work journals, and I have a private journal that's more for my mental and physical health. 

My work journals are one of my more successful journaling endeavours outside of Pilot's World. I've been keeping a daily to-do/notes journal at work since about 2015, with the journals you see above going back to December of 2016. There was another book before the #1 book you see there, but it was on an old cheap notepad and was frankly more of a scratch pad than it was a journal. 

I started this set of journals after taking one of those productivity seminars they have you do occasionally at corporate jobs. I think it might have been 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. But maybe it wasn't. All I remember is the suggestion that you take the last 10-15 minutes of every day and lay out the next day for yourself in a journal.  

And boy, have I done that. For 10 years now, I've done that. I've also taken endless notes in endless meetings, drawn little sketches and kept every apple, orange or fruit sticker from every snack I've brought to work in that time. 

There are some pivotal moments in these journals, too, like the day we got sent home from The Pandemic. Interestingly, that page was written the same day as the one post I did on Pilot's World between 2012 and 2024. 

Or even some history that wasn't put down with a pen. Like this journal that was chewed up by a baby Ahsoka. 

I'm nearly at the end of book 14, and I've really only got 5 or 6 more blank books before I run out. Dollarama stopped stocking this kind of notebook, so sometime in the next 3-5 years, I need to find another job or completely pivot on what kind of notebook I use for this! 

Which brings me to my personal journal and the conflict I'm feeling right now. It started up about a year ago in response to a couple of things. First, Rhonda suggested I start keeping track of some of my health stuff, like when my gout starts to act up or if I'm having issues with my eyes. Likewise, my counsellors have suggested doing the same for my mental health, so I combined them into a single Google Docs document. 

For a while there, I was doing a post every morning, just sat down with my voice-to-text and blurted it all out. But as you can see in the screenshot above, this particular journal has started to lose its charm for me. I dunno. I don't necessarily feel the need to sit down and complain about life for 10 minutes every morning. And I don't go back much. It's just not fulfilling.

So I'm torn. I do like doing some journaling every day, but I'd like it to be more creative. More drawings, lyrics, ideas. Sure, I'll still have some griping or recording my glaucoma pressures. But it should be more. 

And while I appreciate the speed and versatility of doing this digitally, I dunno. Maybe I need to move my personal blog back onto notebooks. It's not as accessible to me, and it's MUCH slower. But having a decade of notebooks with such a variety of materials is pretty cool to have, too. And to look back on.  

So, what's the endgame of this whole journaling-related dump? Well, it's time for a change, this much I know. And I'm in a good position, both in my experience and in my desire, to make something cool. I might look into some kind of journaling service or try to make better use of the tools I have. Blogger clearly shows me that I can combine text, photos, drawings, video and more, which is very useful. I could build a private blog. Or I could just suck it up and start journaling in my old document again. 

I think there might be some use in trying to do it at a different time of day, too. Maybe I'm just too crabby to be doing it first thing in the morning. 

So yeah - a journal entry on journaling. Been trying to work through this lately and rediscover a passion for this personal journal because I think there can be some use for it. I do so much writing, creating and scratching. I need to make it something I enjoy every day. Do you journal? What's your favourite way to go about it?