Author: samandoat

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Being Nice

Us Canadians are often accused of excessive politeness, but I can see no harm in that whatsoever. If anything, the world could use a hefty dose of manners. There is so much mudslinging and rudeness today.

Being rude is a form of violence. People who use it as a weapon are the same ones who cannot tolerate being rudely treated themselves.

It is also highly infectious. If exposed to it too long, everyone is soon rude to everyone else.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could be polite and kind even when we must criticize? Even when we must correct anothers behaviour?

Rudeness is bullying. It definitely does not belong in places of power and authority. It does not belong anywhere in society. Rudeness is a reflection of a persons level of maturity, and a clear indicator of their lack of empathy, compassion and understanding.

We all have been treated rudely at some time in our lives, some of it deliberate, some of it not, and maybe even at times a result of our own bad manners. Did it improve the situation? I doubt it. But when you have been treated with respect, even kindness, how do situations turn out?

Being kind makes you feel good.

Being rude may make an immature bully feel powerful, but it greatly diminishes his stature in other peoples eyes.

I have been bullied by bosses, boyfriends, doctors, sales clerks. All made for memorable experiences, but never made me respect them.

I’ve also had kindness extended to me when I didn’t deserve it. Gratitude when I hadn’t done anything much to warrant it. Strangers who have helped me when I’ve been drowning in troubles.

True heroes are those who know that good wins. They are also likely to refuse your adulation, because being nice is just who they are.

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One Problem Twenty Problems

Why is it some things go bad right from the beginning and the harder you try to fix them, the badder they get.

At work we call it the ‘One Problem Twenty Problems’ syndrome.

The more urgent and important the thing is, the more likely we will encounter problems. But definitely, if it starts wrong it tends to spiral into madness, and the original one problem quickly becomes twenty new ones.

Eventually all gets solved, but it sure leaves some scars, and some lessons learned.

Some things are predictable – we just know it is going to go badly. Even then we seem powerless to stop what we know is coming.

It is a very strange phenomena.

It has been one of those weeks.

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Love Mentors

The most astonishing thing in the world is the human-animal bond.

It is incredible that all living things respond to love, even plants.

Utterly fantastic that creatures so unlike us in every way; their features, habits, behaviours, can so readily bond with us. They can recognize us as an individual, come when we call and they so willingly and without judgement, return our affections. We are able to befriend predators, the dangerous, and the unlikely as easily as a cat or a dog. It does not mean such animals cease to be who they are, and as such we need exercise a healthy and cautious regard for their base natures, which many people have forgotten to their peril, it just means they can respond to us on a level they do not typically have with other animals.

I marvel at this, because love is something felt and acted on and not easily explained. It has an energy, just like all emotions. And humans have it most of all. The capacity for love we take for granted, but if you think about it, is mind-blowing.

When I was young a chrysalis was found on a plant my mom had bought. I watched that every day and talked to it. This sounds surreal, but when that monarch butterfly finally emerged, it was bonded to me. It would fly and follow me and alight on me where ever I went! So I guess at a very early age I was astounded and intrigued by this ability of creatures to bond to a human. Since then I have experienced this same phenomena countless times with all manner of animals and plants.

Is it not truly also amazing that animals can learn love from us, and sometimes extend that love to other creatures? Just incredible.

I have read that in many instances, the ability to kill is a learned behaviour in predators as opposed to being a given instinct. Which causes me to ponder the scripture in the Bible ‘The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the bullock…’

Perhaps our role on this earth is to teach love and compassion to our fellow creatures and bring to pass scripture that claims animals will lie down and feed together and a child shall lead them. The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord (Love!)

Imagine if we could truly grasp what this means. If we could live this. Love is greater than we realize. I believe it not only encompasses the entire universe but is the reason why we are here, and things are as they are.

Scripture is Isaiah 65:25 and Isaiah 11:6-9

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Q

If I could have an acting role in a movie, I should like to be Q in a James Bond adventure.

This should make you laugh, because I am the farthest thing from a tech geek you can imagine! But the original Q was too, apparently.

It would be fun to tease Bond with tech wizardry, seduce him with the sexiness of it (oh, and that Aston Martin!!) and also save his ass with it. A good role in which you appear briefly, but can be many things waiting to be discovered and developed. Q had a secret life, made secret things and was probably a loner like me. He was the one you could never doubt his loyalty to Bond, MI5 and country.

What could be better than that?

And, it would be tremendous fun!

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Highlight Reel

My generation grew up with black and white movies, and went through eras of westerns, gangsters, slapstick comedy and the like that defined the movie industry for years to come.

I was privileged to view films that were revolutionary, like Star Wars, E.T., Close Encounters of the Third Kind, etc. that changed the entire landscape of visual entertainment and ushered in sci-fi on a whole new level.

Many of the things once cartoonish, became human dramas, and vice versa.

All of these movies were fuel for my imagination, and influenced much of my writing and drawing in my early years.

I would have liked to have made movies myself, you know, the big dream of writing and directing and producing your own vision. It is a complicated business that you have to start young at and work your way through, and I am sure it is not as easy as it sounds. I find even putting a story in writing a very hard undertaking. But I am loathe to say hard work, as it is not. I love doing it and I get mad when fellow writers and artists insist on claiming it to be toil. I can tell you what toil really is – doing what you hate, day in and day out just to pay the rent and feed the cat. Disappearing into my imagination for hours at a time is not toil. It is escape.

What makes creative pursuits hard is putting them out into the world. They are your children, they are you.

If I could show my stories on the big screen this would be the culmination of all the art, writing and photography I could possibly make. There could be awesome scenery and beautiful places that words cannot adequately describe. Pages of emotion can be displayed on an actors face in only seconds. I think this fantastic. It gives me chills.

We usher in a new era of movies; animation and CGI (computer generated images) that are so lovely that I find myself holding my breath watching them. I was first introduced to modern animation with Howls Moving Castle, which left me spellbound. How To Train Your Dragon is mesmerizing. Both have stories to tell, not just dazzling animation.

In my mind, every story I write is a movie in my head and I am at once, all the characters, the plot, the scenery. It is the grandest of escapes, my only escape from the drudgery of the reality of my actual life.

There are movie reels and then there is my escape highlight reel in my head.

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Poor Design

I have come to the conclusion that so often the people who design things have never actually used them.

Everything mankind has was designed by someone. We live in design. So why are we so poor at it?

Architects who have never lived in an apartment, visited a mall or have a clue what function their design is to house. Transportation ‘experts’ who have never taken a bus, driven a car or been a hapless pedestrian or cyclist. They have not seen the area in question other than as a google map. Sometimes, I am sure, the only thing that is considered is how much revenue will be generated, without a thought to virtually everything else; traffic flow, the environment, the neighborhood or anything.

I watch condominiums pop up like strip malls once did, and I marvel at how little thought was put into the actual living conditions of its future residents. Balconies are the biggest offender; offset so the people above you can look directly down onto yours; adjoining balconies that unscrupulous neighbors can easily visit your apartment, or listen in to all your outdoor conversations, or you have to endure all theirs with radios and children blasting. Access to the balcony is through your bedroom (who was the genius that thought that up?!) Inside we have small cut up rooms and doors so large that you have huge wall space you cannot use. Facts, such as we have 8 months of harsh winter are ignored. We need good fitting, sealed thermo glass windows. We don’t need tiled courtyards that become skating rinks. We have concerns about increased traffic on residential roads – Oh! The list is a long one for us ‘box’ dwellers.

Don’t even get me started on buses!

Poor design is rampant; exposed wires and mechanical parts on things subjected to the elements. Things so hard to use or so needlessly complicated, (think computer programs or electronics here), designed to look futuristic, sexy or whatever but are buggers to use. One function actually has 5 equally useless functions, pressing 1 takes you back to the beginning so you have 10 functions to wade back through. Small almost invisible buttons located where you normally hold an item so they get pressed when you don’t want. Fancy names for mundane functions so it takes a long time to figure out what the heck it really does. Another long list.

Many companies are not open to suggestions from the people who use their items daily and know what works, and what doesn’t.

The absolute worst however, is manuals, or rather the lack of manuals, cleverly (I say this word because those who did this think it is very forward thinking) replaced by tutorials. Manuals can be poorly written and illustrated, missing key points and diagrams, too much technical jargon and a lot of ‘you should already know what to do stupid’, but tutorials rely on you asking the right question in a technical language you are not privy to and this can soon get me screaming. Give me an index!

The best design of anything is something that addresses the primary function(s) of the object in question and then considers a lot of other factors around this, without losing sight of the main objective and going cutesy, artsy or futuristic. Making it look nice should be the last consideration, not the first.

I love simple, easy to use and ‘clean design’ (something that also looks good). Oh and some design is so brilliant it takes my breath away. I am awed by those trying to solve the problems of our ever changing world, who are environmental and people sensitive. You know – improving our and our fellow creatures lives.

You probably already know what I am about to say – we don’t need another damn telephone, 10,000 Teslas, a wall, or more rockets and junk floating up in space! Our world needs help!

Great design comes from those who realize the fun part of designing is the process; the research, the prototypes, the puzzles that need to be solved, and that it is an ongoing process, the tweaking can be endless, there are always new advances in technology and materials, the purpose of items evolves too.

Great design is making something that actually improves peoples lives and our world.

Like tutorials, ask the right question first. What are the main function(s)/purpose(s)/consideration(s) of this thing? And then keep on asking.

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February BLAHS

By far the most agonizing part of my year is the one long month in three parts, January, February and March.

January begins with a tease of extreme temperatures, from near absolute zero to tropics. It thaws and freezes in daily cycles. February decides to be eye ball freezing cold mixed with some nice bouts of freezing rain and truck loads of snow, so that when March arrives we have four feet of slush.

February is particularly hard on my nerves with overcrowded, never on time or no show buses, that frequently get stuck in the snow, and our city is turned into a parking lot at rush hours. My 5km commute can become 3-4 hours of agony. It wasn’t always this bad, but the city’s poor transportation management is to blame for a large portion of it now.

I get tired of lugging not only myself, but half my wardrobe with me everywhere I go, layering is not a fashion statement, but a necessity. Dressing for extreme cold and deep snow puts a whole new perspective on ‘just popping over to the corner store’. You must prepare before you go out, and this can take up to a half hour. And bringing home even a jug of milk and a loaf of bread can seem like hauling a load of bricks, the weight of such is proportional to the distance you must travel. It increases by at least 10 pounds for every block you walk.

Salt leaves its trademark white undulating lines on boots and coats. Gravel and sand soon make a pathway in your house.

The only reason why I go out at this time of year is to go to some place warm, as my apartment is often very cold. I have an indoor winter coat that I sometimes have to wear. This is the plight of many fellow apartment and condo dwellers in our city. We build buildings and infrastructure with a California spirit and neglect the reality of our harsh winters. Our ridiculous laws are also rather optimistic; must be 72 F during the day (seldom attained) and 68 F at night, which translates to 60 F in reality because it never reached 72 F during the day (why do they turn it down at night?!). No need to turn on the heat until October 12th and off it goes by April. The only thing that is warm on many a Thanksgiving is the turkey. Perhaps this is a clever ploy to keep us going to work. Otherwise we would realize we are nuts to go out and stay home.

The upside is, we are heading towards spring, instead of away from it. The days are quite noticeably longer. Every once in a while the sun comes out and you can feel its increasing strength. And lo and behold! I saw some very brave or crazy song birds have returned.

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Employed Single

I recently read an interesting article about the perceptions employed married persons have of their fellow single workers, and it brought back a lot of memories.

I find what happened in the past amusing, but at the time was frustrating. Those were the days when women were on a whole different level in the working world.

Today I enjoy working for and with single women and these issues are gone from my life. Well, mostly.

It sometimes happened that I cohabited (in those days we said cohabited to make it sound formal. To our friends, it was ‘living together’ until common law came into existence). But since this was not a recognized form of attachment I would still be treated as a single person, but with a moral problem.

When it was time for raises, I was informed I didn’t need one because I was single and didn’t need as much money as married people. If anything, I needed more because I only had one income, they had two!

Of course, as a single woman I must be sitting at home doing nothing, and therefore my free time belonged to the company. I was once called a coward because I refused to continue giving up my Saturdays to do work at home that my married co-workers couldn’t possibly do, because, well, they are married!

I was frequently called in during my vacations to do menial work or take care of a crisis that married workers could not deal with, well, because they are married! I still have a bit of trouble keeping my vacations to myself even in my current situation but for different reasons.

If anything needed doing in my life, there was only me to do it. I seldom had the luxury of assistance from a partner to run errands, fix things, or take care of anything. Yet to try and have time off for an appointment was difficult because it was believed as a single person I somehow didn’t need to do anything that married people do. I never had major issues, well, because, I am single! Anything greater than the flu was not believed.

I was told I have the world by the balls, like I didn’t have any responsibilities or concerns, and I could do virtually anything. In reality, the world often had me. I had debts. I had an ailing Mother to care for. I often felt insecure and alone and had no safety net. I didn’t have any back up financially or otherwise, so to venture out on my own was very risky. I longed to go back to school, and I did, and it was scary as a ‘mature single student’, watching my hard earned savings dwindling and the debt rising. I wanted to start my own business and have at last, but I never had someone to catch me if I fell. My debts are my own.

My married co-workers and bosses had houses, cars and exotic vacations. These are luxuries I seldom got to enjoy as a low income earner. Whenever I would go on vacation to another place it was frowned upon – a single woman going where??? And they would wonder where I got the money from. Why would a single woman want a house? Or need a car? Ah, those were the days. . .

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Purging

There is this strange phenomena that happens when I decide to do a major purge of stuff.

It does not seem to matter how much crap I discard, trash, give away or recycle, my place still looks the same.

This is how it has been all my life. Does this happen to anyone else?

I have spent the last 4 weekends on a major purge. I donated bags and bags of clothes – mostly suits I wore when I worked in a office, along with the dreaded killer high heels (glad to be rid of those – though I did try a pair on, just in case I thought I still could manage a 20 something swagger.)

I redid my studio and made a lot of wanna be artists happy as I unloaded truck loads of paper, pens, pencils and other more artsy stuff into their eager hands. But as I sit here, do I really have any more room? Hmmm. Well, it is cleaner. . . and I got some new better stuff. . .

I guess it is because of my organizational style. That whatever I keep, I now arrange it to suit me, so it just takes the space of the gone stuff. But my clothes closet is not any more roomy, and I did not buy more clothes. I think it must be that my living spaces shrink and expand according to what is in them. Or during the night things secretly reproduce.

At any rate, I feel better. Getting rid of those suits ensured I will never go back to working in an administrative office ever YAY! And getting new and more suitable art equipment is a step in the right direction for the kind of future I want.

I would love to get a bigger place to live – but it’ll expand and contract just like my little apartment. At night things will multiply while I sleep. Next morning I’ll look in my closet and say “I thought I got rid of that”, or in my studio “How is it I now have 3 of these?” No, I haven’t shopped and forgot – yet.

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Treasures Lost

Tucked off to the side in a mundane looking office building was a small library. This was a magical place. My Mom would frequent there and bring home science fiction for me, with the strict admonition to “not tell your Father!” How she selected such books was a mystery until I was much older. The stories were not fantasy, but future scenarios based on believable technology. Many of them had a profound and lasting effect on me, so I remember those stories to this day.

I loved writing, and banged out some pretty wild stories of my own on an old, sticky keys, heavier than a boat anchor, Underwood. When I was old enough, I made my own trek to that library and fished out much needed facts and other research for my imaginings.

My Mother had been a secret writer, hiding the fact from a disapproving husband. That’s how she knew such great fiction, she’d been reading it herself! But she vehemently denied this, claiming she disdained science fiction. However, all those books had been carefully chosen, they were the best of the best, I never read any crap.

Unfortunately, my Mother either abandoned writing altogether, or destroyed her work. Her later years were spent devouring murder mystery novels, she was insatiable. She only confessed to being a writer then, but no amount of coaxing could persuade her to write one single line for me. A treasure lost.

Like so many other things, late in life, I have only come to appreciate the gifts my Mother gave me. The love of books, libraries, reading, research and writing came from her. Thank you Mom!

My Father was a non-fiction writer, but he never published his works. I discovered them in his paperwork long after his death. He had a fascination with geology and had literally written an entire text book on the subject.

Two treasures lost.