Saturday in the Park...

I have no patience for ridiculous traffic, and so I make it a policy to NOT go away on long weekend.  Not Labour Day, Simcoe Day, Canada Day or the glorious Victoria Day weekend, presently upon us and better known as the “May 2-4” weekend.

This weekend was no exception.  The Boo, (my better half who would rather not have an on-line identity – and may be the only person I know that cannot be found by Google) and I started out day with our planned Hair Styling at the Loft Toronto at Queen and Bathurst.  (Sylvie is a genius and an awesome woman… go there for all of your hair needs, concerns, aspirations and dreams…  just saying).  After our appointments we were released onto Queen West about 1130 and we began to walk… we walked west to Gladstone, north to Dundas, back East to Ossington, south again to Queen… stopped for branch and cocktails at County General and then slipped over to Trinity Bellwoods park where we walked some more, sat a little and become more human.

Let me back up… we walk because we like to look at people and at life.  The shops along Queen are fascinating, the people with their babies… and their dogs… and their coffees… and their smartphones… and their beards…. and their yoga pants…  It’s a cavalcade of Torontonians.  Walking through the residential areas  watching octogenarians tending to tiny perfect lawns and elaborate gardens with blinding white statuary, fountains, artificial and very real flowers – just makes me smile from deep within my very being.  The cultural integration has exceeded the vision of a Russian Orthodox Church in the midst of a Little Portugal to include Chinese, Vietnamese , Italian and Hipster (surely their culture has a distant national origin?) and it is glorious.   The Boo and I would have been satisfied with our walk had we headed home after brunch at County General. 

 

But instead of moving on, we decided to hang out at the park.  Not just any park – the spectacular Trinity Bellwoods Park.  Having passed through the gates we were greeted by hundreds upon hundreds of people – a woman in an insulated coat with a wool hat making her way around two women sunbathing in bikinis… dogs of every shape and size known to creation… children running and squealing; playing on slides and swings; digging in a giant mound of dirt… some vulnerable seniors from John Gibson House getting some air and enjoying the day… picnickers… a young man taking pictures for a George Brown College Photo Exhibit  (he asked, I posed… I’m no Bieber or Schumer)… young people walking (or attempting to walk) slack ropes strung between posts, there was every hue and colour imaginable, every shape and style of hair and beard (including the ever popular, forked beard).  If there is an objective scale for beauty, we saw some very beautiful people, some less beautiful folk and some down-right ugly people – but they were all radiant, glorious and attractive.   We walked and watched… we sat and watched…  and my dry parched soul become supple and moist; it grew shoots of new life and I began to be Spring.

When I am busy or shut in by winter, I have little time for the superfluous, so I tend to focus on the people that I need and the people that I know.  Most of them, tend to be like me… similar tastes, skills, looks… take a picture and you’ll note that “He looks different”; “She’s a ginger” – but, like Taylor Swift, I have a Squad (although most of them probably don’t know that they are in my Squad….  Hey, maybe I’m in Taylor’s but just don’t know it??).   A day at Trinity Bellwoods, for me, reminds me that there is more to humanity than the people that I typically prefer and to whom I usually defer: More than my squad.   There are all sorts of people out there – humanity is vast and awesome…   (but seriously, Tay-Tay, if you're reading this, I am Squad available)

Walking, sitting, soaking it in, I didn’t notice one Trump Supporter, I didn’t recognize one Wynne Detractor or Pipe-Line Protester… I saw lots of elbows flying, but no assaults were announced… I didn’t notice one Christian, Muslim, Jain, Atheist, Cavalier or Raptor…  it was just a sea (or a lake) or humanity and it made me feel connected.   I have no doubt that all of the above sub-groups and individuals noted above were in the Park with me yesterday… but it would seem that we all decided to let down our walls, fill in our moats and just be human.  Ridiculous, Glorious, Hilarious, Amazing… human.   From time to time, I need to be reminded that humanity is vast; I do not exclusively define it... and I am not alone.  Even if I want to be.   I am part of something so grand, so diverse and so joyous that the only fitting response is "Awe".    You may remember that last week it snowed and it was awful... yesterday, in the park, it was "Awe-filled" and I'm glad that I didn't miss it.

Doug cried.

So, it's been a very long time (over 4 months) since I've written.
I hope that you're well.
Find work?
Look at you - you've lost weight... love your hair.
The blackout/ice storm sucked, eh?
Did you have a good New Years?
Valentine's Day all that you had hoped for?
How 'bout them Raptors!

I've been busy with life... lots of life - commitments, responsibilities and changes... more about those in later blogs- the reason for my coming out of hiding, is that I need to respond to a few words by Rex Murphy.
You can find these words on Youtube   http://youtu.be/2t6KvIpyWAk
In the editorial, Rex Murphy has some rather pointed words about Rob Ford, as so many do these days.   After reciting the long list of perceived offences, Rex suggests that the worst of it has been that Rob has made his brother Doug cry.

I’m sorry, Rex wants me to feel sorry for Doug Ford?

Rob made him cry?

He’s been nothing but a loyal brother standing up for his embattled brother?

Excuse me – but Doug Ford was an elected member of City Council and assumed a responsibility to the people of Toronto and his riding.    I’ll have no tears for Doug.

Rob Ford would appear to be an addict, full of shallow bile and ignorance -  a man incapable of taking care of himself in public or in private.- in short, a pathetic figure. 

But somebody has helped him hobble along to where he is today.  

It sure wasn't me.

Somebody has made it possible for Rob to NOT take responsibility for his actions; somebody has exaggerated the attacks on poor Rob and tried to cast him as victim rather than criminal.

And that somebody is NOT an addict.  

That somebody has assured the public many, many times that he’s never seen Rob take drugs, hasn't seen Rob drunk in years, hasn't seen Rob drink… has assured us again and again that Rob is fine and in control, if only the media would stop picking on him.  That same somebody has routinely lied to us all and vouched for, not only his brother, but his menagerie of odious companions - reminding us that Rob is a man of the people and just being loyal to good people.    

And that somebody is Doug Ford.

I will not shed a tear for Doug.  Doug has lied to me far too many times.  Doug has supported Rob in a reckless irresponsible manner… Doug has been as big a bully as Rob… and he has no addiction to blame for such disgusting and duplicitous behaviour.

Rob made Doug cry? 

Good.  It's about time that somebody did. 

Forgive me, another Rob Ford Blog

So, I’m going to write another blog about Rob Ford.

As I go forward, let me make the following admissions:

1.       I  don’t live in Toronto, so I have never voted for or against Rob Ford as Mayor. 

             (I live in Pickering and work in Toronto, so I have a vested interest if not a vote)

2.       I believe that Rob Ford is an over the top bully.

3.       I believe that Rob Ford is a liar.

4.       I consider myself a Christian

5.       I am prepared to forgive Rob Ford

6.       And… I secretly like to eat peanut M&Ms while watching trash television.

That last point has nothing to do with this blog, I just really wanted to get it off my chest.  

 (I feel so much better)

Please note that I don’t make any claims that Rob Ford is an drug addict or an alcoholic – I really don’t know – he talks like one, he makes excuses like one and he acts like one… but so do some sober people, so I can’t really say. 

Oh, and I don’t care.

Really…

Rob Ford has invited me to NOT care about his alleged addictions. He has emphatically told us (the public) to butt out… so, I am butting out.  Consequently, I don’t care.

Now, some would take that as a cruel “non-Christian” stance.  We should care about each other.  God loves us all and Jesus loved the little children, etc.  But I’m not sure that “Love” and “Care” are the same things.   Almost without exception, Jesus invites the people he heals to be part of the healing.  “Do you want to be healed?” he invariably asks.  When they say “Yes” they are engaged and part of the healing, sometimes they are invited to do more – but they are always engaged.  When they decide that they don’t want to engage, Jesus lets them walk away… he doesn’t stop loving them, but he stops caring because they do not wish to be cared for.  Jesus respects them as adults and lets them decide for themselves… In love, he lets them go.  I feel the same way about Mr. Ford.  In love, I am letting him go. I do not wish him ill, I take no pleasure in his pain… but I am respecting his wishes and no longer caring.

As long as I’m on a rant/roll here…
I noted that Doug Ford suggested that Denzil Minan-Wong was “No Christian” in his continued conflict with Rob Ford…Implying that a Christian would let bullying and bad-behaviour go un-challenged.   I noted also the Billboard of unknown origin that stood on the Gardiner Expressway for a few days in support of Mayor Ford included the phrase:  “let the one who has never sinned, throw the first stone”.  It’s too easy to mock the spelling mistakes or the un-authorized use of a Municipal Logo, so instead I will comment on the text.  

Is anyone really suggesting that we all need to be perfect before we are allowed to be critical?  Does my speeding ticket or the time that I had 10 items in an “8 Items of LESS” cashier line, mean that I can’t speak out against poor behaviour and/or bad government???  “Let the one who has never spelled incorrectly, wag the first finger!!”  (See, you know that I wouldn’t that one alone, didn’t you?)    

I have been told by good “Christians” that as a “Christian” I should forgive Rob Ford and leave him alone.  I think that the problem here is a fundamental misunderstanding of what “forgiveness” means, in a Christian or any other context.  Forgiving is not forgetting… When you forgive somebody, you don’t pretend like nothing ever happened; life does not go back to the way it was before.   Forgiving is when you “let go” of someone or something, it’s when you face the future and stop looking backward; it is when you stop kicking  someone in hopes that it will make you feel better or make up for the pain that they have caused.   I can forgive Rob Ford and still not believe that he should be Mayor.

I can forgive a child abuser and not allow him/her access to children. 

I can forgive a thief, but not give her/him access to my wallet.

In my judgement, Rob Ford is a liar and a bully.  He has not delivered on his promises and he has so “narcissized” his office (yes, I just invented a word) that his Mayoralty has become about him as a person and not about the agenda by which he was elected.  He doesn’t show up for work and by his own admission, he is often unfit to make responsible decisions.    

And I forgive him. 

I’m not going to keep kicking him in hopes that it will make things right or make me feel better… but he can’t be Mayor anymore: Either by legal means now, or by election next year.  And his not being allowed to continue as Mayor does not make us un-forgiving. 

If the same (admitted) behaviour was exhibited by a surgeon, you would not let her/him operate on a patient.

If the same (admitted) behaviour was exhibited by a company President, you would move to have him/her removed.

If the same (admitted) behaviour was exhibited by a husband or father next door, you would call the Police or Child Services. 

You would not “forgive” him, and let him act irresponsibly, dangerously, aggressively and recklessly with his children or spouse behind closed doors.  If you did, I would suggest that you are very “un-Christian” and care little for the more vulnerable, the potential victims.   I’m not saying that Rob Ford is abusive to his children or his wife –  I am using a metaphor - I am saying that he is dangerous and reckless with the people of this city and should only be allowed supervised access to Torontonians.

I don’t want to punish Rob Ford.  I don’t want to dwell on the past.  I forgive him and am letting go of the past.  I would gladly assist in his healing if he asked me.  I think that Jesus would approve… but I don’t think that he should continue in a position of authority or responsibility where there are vulnerable people – and Toronto is FULL of vulnerable people – that’s the very constituency to whom the government is responsible.

I invite you – nay, encourage you  - to make up your own mind about Rob Ford. Never mind me or  Saturday Night Live or the Daily Show… ask yourself if you think that he’s told you the truth often enough to be trusted; ask yourself if you would trust him to operate on or give important advice to someone you love; would you drive confidently over a bridge that he designed or built in the last three years?  Wonder if you would leave your children or your parents in his care…   and decide for yourself.  But whatever you decide, do no equate “Forgiving” with putting things back the way they once were; do not imagine that it is a synonym for “Forgetting”  and don’t tell me that continuing to take abuse is “Christian”… it simply ain’t so. 

P.S.  This song is not about Rob Ford.. and it contradicts much of what I just wait - but it did inspire this blog.

http://youtu.be/fpQNLZRcNA4

Not again... please, never again.

So, Norm – nothing to say about Sammy Yatim?

Lots to say about Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman, but how come no word on the police gunning down a teenager armed only with a 3 inch blade knife?

That’s one of the emails that I’ve received in the past day or so.

Allow me to answer and the other similar notes…

I haven’t responded thus far because:

1.      This just happened; it’s not the conclusion of lengthy trial in which evidence has been presented and examined.

2.      I am still in shock… painful, heart-numbing shock… and I don’t know what to say.

18 year olds are not supposed to die.

Not like that… really, not at all.

Like many people, I have watched the video of the shooting and I think that I know the following:

Sammy Yatim was on a streetcar armed with a knife about the size of kitchen paring knife.

(I note that knives can be sharp and dangerous at any length.)

There were several police officers on the scene.

Sammy was uncooperative.

Several shots were fired.

Sammy appears to have been tasered after being shot.

He died as a result of his wounds.

He was 18 years old

That’s all that I think I know.

I find it hard to imagine how an investigation will add insight to what I have witnessed…  but maybe there is evidence yet to be revealed that will need to be considered as we try to find justice.  Regardless of what we find, I am hoping that we don’t make a scapegoat out of one or more police officers.  

Why not??  They shot him even though they were in no imminent danger; an officer tasered him after he had been shot!!

I know… and, as I said above, I can’t imagine any mitigating factors that would make such actions excusable.  However, I don’t want to be able to pin this on a bad guy or a couple of bad guys, file it and walk away.

It’s too tragic and too important an event to treat simply and solve by blaming somebody.

When we blame somebody, we allow ourselves off the hook.  We can talk about a couple of bad police officers instead of looking at how we encounter and confront anti-social behaviour.  We can talk about angry youth instead of talking about mental health.  We can campaign for more cops; less cops… and not wonder about spending more money on mental health initiatives and support for people battling depression, bipolar disease; we don’t to spend more money on helping Autistic men and women engage fully and safely in society.

I’m not saying that Sammy Yatin is autistic.  I have no idea.

I’m not saying that Sammy was suffering from mental illness – again, I don’t know enough and I’m not a diagnostician… but I’m pretty sure that had our police (and they are ours) been better equipped to handle people presenting with behaviours associated with mental health issues; had we stricter protocols in place for dealing with those outside the “norm” they may have been able to find an alternative to shooting and killing an 18 year old.

I hurt for Sammy’s family. I mourn with them.

I also hurt for my friends who watched that video and thought, “That could have been my child…”  Because I have several friends who fit into that group.

I never met Sammy Yatin, but boy, was he familiar.

I have met several young men and women struggling  with depression and mental health issues; young men who are fine one minute and the next are aggressive, suicidal, belligerent or just plain uncooperative.  I don’t want to see another one shot.

I have friends who are autistic – fine people who bring insight, joy and friendship to my life, but from time to time present behaviours that are hard to understand and frustrating to engage.  I don’t want them to be shot in the midst of a bad time.

I have known young men and women who have been diagnosed with mental health issues and seem some of them get better with time, therapy, medication, life style modification… seen some of them did not get “better”, but still found a way to function in society and find joy in their lives…  and I don’t want them to be shot before they have that chance.

I have seen parents struggle trying to care for children diagnosed with mental disorders; I have seen them struggle alone because nobody wants to talk about or hear about depression and mental health deficits.  (Tell ‘em to cheer up, get out of bed and get a job!  If you were a better parent, you’d push them harder).

Sammy’s age was significant to me because I have also seen parents despair when the government and institutional support runs out as children hit 18 and become adults.

You see, I want to talk about all of these things.  I want to talk about autism, mental health, anti-social genius, creative disconnect and all sorts of issues that describe those who do not fit into our “normal” way of life and I’m worried that if we find a “bad guy”, we’re going to put off having these discussions and more of our children, young adults, neighbours, parents, brothers and sisters are going to die in a hail of mis-directed bullets. 

Out here on the FRINGE

My favourite time of the year: Toronto Fringe Festival.   

148 shows in 35 different locations around Toronto… some great, some not… all worth your time.

And one might ask why I feel this way?

Is it my love of theatre?  

Yes.

Is it my desire that we should all support creativity and give the Arts a place to flourish?  

Yes.

Is it the excitement of discovering the next “Da Kink in My Hair” before anybody else sees it; the rare opportunity to see existential clowning outside of a Beckett play; Shakespeare in a pub, or the chance to drink apricot wheat beer while waiting to queue up for a Scottish Transvestite revelation of God?   

Yes. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

Aye!

But it’s more than that… I love the Fringe Festival and recommend it to All and Sundry (if you see Sundry, please mention it to her) because it provides us all with the opportunity to be offended.  In many years of Fringing I have been offended several times – I won’t mention them here, because may offense may be your orothodoxy, but rest assured I have heard and seen things that made me cringe, made me angry, made me declare “That was utter crap!” while sipping a glass of wine after the performance… and I revel in that. 

I need to be offended.

Just for practice.

None of us can truly live in the world without being offended from time to time, but the problem is that we often appear to aspire to such a world:  A world in which our teams never lose, our party wins every election, our songs are on the radio, all thermostats are set the same as ours, our ideas are applauded and never challenged; our place in the universe is comfy and secure.  We create gated communities in our minds and allow in ONLY the ideas that look like our usual ideas, that sound like our usual songs, that feel like our favourite old shirt and make us feel safe and secure.  But every now and then, an idea in a Hoody slips past the gate and we shoot it because it doesn't belong; we jump all over it because it doesn't look or feel right; it doesn't fit in. 

Before that happens (again), we need to go out and be offended from time to time, just so that we can learn to deal with offensive ideas and concepts without extremism.  We need to hear these offensive ideas and consider them, wonder about them – we don’t have to agree with them, but we do need to know how to engage them without creating a dramatic US/THEM dialectic; an “If you’re not for me, you’re against me” mentality.  We need to hear language that is not our own and points of view that we have never considered.

Things like the Fringe Festival provide that.  Besides great stories, laughter, music and dance, these performances takes us on adventures.  We are not in control of the map.  There is an unspoken trust, as we allow writers, directors and actors to take us we know not where… And unlike TV, we can’t turn it off if we don’t like the plot; we can’t put the book down if the language or ideas push our buttons.  We could walk out, but we don't , because  at the Fringe you can’t get back in…. and then we'll never know if it got better.  For 55 to 85 minutes, we hand over control to another person or group of people and so we often take a path that we would never have taken on our own and end up in places that we never imagined existed.   That’s the joy and importance of the Fringe.  In an age where I program all the music that I listen to you and download only the media that belongs in my gated mental community, it's not often that I relinquish control to anybody.

Please understand, I enjoyed the Wizard of Oz, I agree with the over-arching theme and I’m very glad that "There is no place like home"   But I think that it’s also a good idea from time to time for someone to come into my home and rearrange the furniture – throw out that crappy couch and install a sex swing.  Just to shake things up a bit…  That’s what the Fringe does for me.

 (Well, not the sex swing… I tried installing one, but I just couldn't see the TV from it….)

 

In short: Go to the Fringe – it’ll blow your mind.  And that’s a good thing.

I'm Praying for Rob Ford

Things that I think about when I’m doing something else…

Well, I've been doing a lot of something else in the past two weeks (hence the lack of posts) – away in Nashville for a week (you can probably see my accent in my words)  - rushing about getting funerals done, weddings planned and just the usual trying to keep my head above water.

This morning I received a call at the church.  A woman who has not been a member in many years, but used to be.   She called and gave me her bona-fides (in church life that’s usually the names of old friends who are now dead or how great it was when people were forced to go to church)   and then she asked me what I thought about Rob Ford.

I said, “Who?”

  (it was worth a try)

"Well, I was thinking about coming to church and I want to know what you think about Rob Ford."

It was hard to figure out what she wanted to hear… being a minister, I try only to tell people what they want to hear.  Much like Jesus, I’m all for going along to getting along and saying whatever is required to bring out the big bucks.  (wait, that's not Jesus… that’s a hooker).

As I was about to answer, she solved my dilemma by jumping right in:  "I think that it’s terrible what they are doing to him.  It’s bullying pure and simple, they are embarrassing him publicly and there’s no proof of anything and they even made the Catholic School Board fire him as a coach!"

“Well, Ma’m,” I said (still got that Nashville thing going)… “I agree that he’s not being well treated, but I think that he’s had a lot to do with his creating this environment”

I then went through a few points:  

    (numbered hear for easy reference when I'm in court defending against libel and slander)

1. When being sworn in as Mayor he invited Don Cherry to speak and Don made sure to make all of us left wing pinko bike riders feel like losers, as our new Mayor smiled and laughed.   He didn't take my lunch money, but the Mayor and his friend sure did push my bike to the ground and laugh at me.

2. Our Mayor and his brother regularly excoriate their political opponents on their public radio show on Sunday afternoons. Even threatening to “out” those who vote against the Mayor on City Council.  That sure sounds like bullying.

3. In the first year of Mr. Ford's Mayoralty, I was constantly hearing about “Ford Nation” and how I would oppose this juggernaut at my own peril.  Sure felt like bullying to me.

4. The on-going battle with the Toronto Star is embarrassing for all involved, but it was our Mayor who refused to speak with any journalists representing the city’s biggest newspaper, before this all become a dissonant opera. 

5. I’m not so sure that “They” forced the Catholic School Board to do anything.  If the TDCSB could be so easily forced, they’d have a float in next month’s Pride Parade.  As I watched this story unfold over the past few months, it seems to me that Board thanked Mr. Ford for his support in the past, but desired to end the relationship after his voluntary Sun media interview in which he referred to the youth at the school as gang-bangers and the neighborhood as "at risk" – the operating narrative has been that Rob Ford has been this school’s savior.  A great many teachers, parents and a principal who arrived in recent years, take issue with his depiction of the students and neighbourhood and are somewhat disenfranchised with his taking sole credit for the positive changes at the school.

All of that said…  I also told my phone friend that we prayed for our Mayor, Rob Ford, on Sunday at Jubilee.  We prayed because we know that he’s hurting.   If there is no video, it must hurt terribly to be so persecuted and slandered.  If there is a video, something must hurt terribly that crack cocaine is a relief or worth “trying”.   We prayed for our Mayor because friends need friends to step up from time time; we prayed for Rob Ford because Jesus said that we should pray for our enemies.  We prayed for an end to this painful, tragic circus… and I’ll bet that Rob makes that same prayer every day as he tries to fall asleep and every morning when we awakens and realizes that the nightmare is real.

Remember when that bully in grade school picked on you?  How much you hated what she said about you, or how he laughed at your attempts to fit in…. or those brown oxfords kicking into your ribs again and again while you tried to cover yourself from his blows and maintain some dignity… (that might be my special memory).  These were the people that we hoped and prayed would get their comeuppance -  we imagined someone coming along who was bigger and kinder and would pound them into the ground; some of us sent away to Charles Atlas to learn how to build our bodies up so that we could be bigger and kinder and pound our tormentor into the ground…  

And then one day it happened:

Someone bigger came along and the bully was vanquished…. Humiliated… his or her tears were sweet water to the garden of your self-esteem.   

Right?

Or was it all rather hollow and meaningless?

I won’t pretend that I don’t smile when a bully gets knocked down.  I do… but I also remember the incredible lack of "nothing" when my childhood bullies were put in their place.  There was no real change at school... my arms were still skinny; my skin very pale; and my jokes way too hip for the room.  Pretty soon another Bully came along. 

The one time that I beat up a Bully, I remember how foolishly futile it all felt.  I kept punching and he kept falling... but he wouldn't stay down!  He'd get back up, sneer... and I'd punch him down again.  It was as if he didn't seem to understand that I'd won... and it was his job to go away.  That's the problem with the Bully Game it never seems to end. 

I do believe that our Mayor, Rob Ford, has been instrumental in creating an environment and context for bullying.  He has lead by example and the chickens have come home to roost… and there is a small part of me that smiles every time I see the brown oxford shoes of media scrutiny kick him in the ribs… but I also know from experience that the joy is hollow and the victory produces nothing of value… it defeats the opponent, but never changes the game.    I need another game... a better game.

So, I’m praying for Rob Ford – that he find peace, wholeness and opportunity... if only the opportunity to leave (with or without dignity).  I'm praying for Rob Ford because I don't know what else to do.  I'm praying for Rob Ford 'cause Jesus told me to, and his ideas tend to be good ones.

But, I'm also praying for a better game... this one sucks.