As many of you know, thanks to the many sermons I am prepared to provide at the drop of a hat, I am not what I call a Green Hoaxer. What's a Green Hoaxer you ask? To me a Green Hoaxer is the type of person, or corporation, that only buys into the whole carbon foot print religion because they feel they can get something out of it. Examples would be Al Gore, who makes millions off preaching what he doesn't practice, and Coca Cola, who built a whole campaign on the non reduction in polar bear populations only to ditch it when people couldn't tell the difference between the white snazzy Coke cans and the Diet variety. Cynical.
I have no beef with the rabid activists who feel passionately that man, in his omnipotence, is screwing up a climate that has suffered many cataclysmic events and shifts over 4 billion years and still seems to be coping well. I also have no beef with the masses that through manipulation and cajoling are brow beaten into marching in line with the Thought Police. Both of these groups feel they are doing the right thing. They aren't of course but that's not a topic for this column.
So what is the point? What has got me so riled up to post something about climate change or the green movement when I swore blind I would avoid it. That and politics. I mean, have you heard me say a bad word about that dildo Mulcair in this blog yet? Oops. ;)
Focus Jooge, focus.
So the point. After dropping off my boys after a weekend of fatherly fun and son-shine, I popped into the local grocery store to buy a few provisions. After returning from Europe last weekend I have been surviving on soup and duty free chocolate - it was time to haul my ass to the store. I toured the store making sure that I picked up plenty of fruit and veggies at the start so I could cover all of the good stuff that would mysteriously jump into my cart before I reached the checkout. I was feeling quite virtuous to be honest. I lived out one of my fantasies by going through the self serve checkout (man that never gets old) and swiped my card. What happened next could best be described by saying that the machine puked paper on me. Seriously. It continued to up chuck for what seemed like forever and I made vain attempts to deftly fold the receipt as best I could. I failed miserably and in the end just tucked it in its own plastic bag.
Working past my inner excitement at having now taken five bags and only paid for four, I resolved to do something. Superstore is a green company....at least that's what they say. They would embrace change right? Grasp the metal! Bludgeon their way through the green tape and use their reduced carbon footprint to kick some bureaucratic ass? Right? Right?
No.
My suggestion to build in the option for customers to have their receipts emailed directly to themselves fell flatter than an anorexic model. I was surprised, I mean its hardly revolutionary. In fact some stores offer it already. It just seemed a great opportunity. Everybody shops for groceries and most people buy a lot of items. But no. It was a non starter.
And the reason? 'Well sir, not everybody would want to do it. We have enough problems getting people to use the self checkouts.' Despite my protestations to the manager that 'if you lead people will follow, especially if you make them feel they are helping', she was unmoved. In fact she was not just unmoved she was agitated that I was taking up her time with 'nonsense'.
So an opportunity to make a real change goes begging. For sure she would 'pass on my idea to her superiors' but her lack of eye contact couldn't hide her future inaction.
Green issues.....environmental initiatives that make a difference are not born in a board room or at a parliamentary committee. Rather they develop at the grass roots level (no green pun intended) where people see the difference that real change can make. Change that makes sense to the environment and does not line the pockets of carbon traders who couldn't give two hoots for a greener world.
If we are to act as good stewards of this Earth, we all need to recognise opportunities that can incrementally cut consumption and make a big difference. We all need to take the lead and not be lead......and when a good suggestion is handed to us with bows on, we need to make sure that the present gets delivered. So buck up Dolores, buck up.
Monday 28 May 2012
Saturday 26 May 2012
Homecoming
I wrote this blog on Tuesday morning (May 15th) but am posting it later for obvious reasons. :)
I am so excited. I can't put in to words what I am feeling at the moment. In a few short hours, after what feels like a lifetime, I get to hug my mummy again. Of course I will hug my dad, and with just as much love, but the first hug will be my mum's. As a dad myself I know the rules and there is no point trying to fight them.
The last time I saw my parents was in June 2001.....June 3, 2001 to be precise. They had been visiting Canada (their one and only trip so far, ahem) and flew back in the evening....almost to the hour that my youngest Zack was making his entrance to this world....early of course, he never sleeps in. Their departure sparked the tornado of parenthood!
I look back over the previous 11 years and am taken aback with all that has happened in both my personal life and in the world at large. Zack was followed just 17 months later by my sweet Logi, the rock or the silent assassin depending on his mood. ;) 11 sweet years of being reminded every day that God moves in this world even when we may be blinded by our own self pity. 11 years of having the best job in the world. 11 years of knowing truly that I would give my life in a heart beat to protect my own.
11 years ago I would never have had to take my shoes off to get through security, nor discard that bottle of pop. The Twin Towers still stood and the world seemed a safer place. In some ways the world was a much happier place but maybe that is a view through rose tinted glasses.
I was living in Edmonton 11 years ago, still in love with snow and still in my early 30s. Now I am in my mid 40s in age and waistline and although my love of snow persists I now prefer a stolen night away as opposed to a life long commitment. ;) The first flutter of flakes in November still does raise a flutter in my heart and I think they always will. I'm a romantic, what can I say?
My parents are now bracketing 70 and although they are in relatively good health and enjoying life, the passing of the years now brings some poignancy. It also brings resolve and 11 years without a mother's hug will not be allowed to pass again. Nor will a grandmother's hug.
I have just spent the last 10 days or so flitting around Europe under the guise of work. Its been exciting for sure! Lots to see, lots to do, lots to eat and new places to check off the bucket list. But you know as exciting as it was to gaze upon the Mona Lisa and marvel at the Venus de Milo, to experience the peace of God whilst sitting in Sacre Couer, and to savour the taste of a pizza in Milan, the thought of my Mummy's embrace has always been the highlight of my trip. This trip has reminded me yet again that although the bright lights of a Grand Tour may momentarily capture the eye, the warm and loving blanket of family will always comfort the soul and bring true peace to a restful spirit.
Mum, Dad - I love you so much and I am the man I am today because of you.
Love you.
I am so excited. I can't put in to words what I am feeling at the moment. In a few short hours, after what feels like a lifetime, I get to hug my mummy again. Of course I will hug my dad, and with just as much love, but the first hug will be my mum's. As a dad myself I know the rules and there is no point trying to fight them.
 |
| Me and my Mum |
The last time I saw my parents was in June 2001.....June 3, 2001 to be precise. They had been visiting Canada (their one and only trip so far, ahem) and flew back in the evening....almost to the hour that my youngest Zack was making his entrance to this world....early of course, he never sleeps in. Their departure sparked the tornado of parenthood!
I look back over the previous 11 years and am taken aback with all that has happened in both my personal life and in the world at large. Zack was followed just 17 months later by my sweet Logi, the rock or the silent assassin depending on his mood. ;) 11 sweet years of being reminded every day that God moves in this world even when we may be blinded by our own self pity. 11 years of having the best job in the world. 11 years of knowing truly that I would give my life in a heart beat to protect my own.
 |
| No likeness w-h-a-t-s-o-e-v-e-r! |
I was living in Edmonton 11 years ago, still in love with snow and still in my early 30s. Now I am in my mid 40s in age and waistline and although my love of snow persists I now prefer a stolen night away as opposed to a life long commitment. ;) The first flutter of flakes in November still does raise a flutter in my heart and I think they always will. I'm a romantic, what can I say?
My parents are now bracketing 70 and although they are in relatively good health and enjoying life, the passing of the years now brings some poignancy. It also brings resolve and 11 years without a mother's hug will not be allowed to pass again. Nor will a grandmother's hug.
I have just spent the last 10 days or so flitting around Europe under the guise of work. Its been exciting for sure! Lots to see, lots to do, lots to eat and new places to check off the bucket list. But you know as exciting as it was to gaze upon the Mona Lisa and marvel at the Venus de Milo, to experience the peace of God whilst sitting in Sacre Couer, and to savour the taste of a pizza in Milan, the thought of my Mummy's embrace has always been the highlight of my trip. This trip has reminded me yet again that although the bright lights of a Grand Tour may momentarily capture the eye, the warm and loving blanket of family will always comfort the soul and bring true peace to a restful spirit.
Mum, Dad - I love you so much and I am the man I am today because of you.
Love you.
Sunday 6 May 2012
We are the Swiss. We were 3D first.
The pit stop for this leg of the race is in Martigny, Switzerland. Martigny is nestled in the Alps just a short one hour's rail trip from Geneva. The train ride from Geneva hugs Lake Geneva and takes you through some stunning views. As one would expect, everything here runs like clockwork. In fact Switzerland is a little like Germany in that respect, but unlike Germany it has charisma. ; ) Kinda liking the place.
Couple of observations about Switzerland, based of course on my rather limited exposure to all things Swiss.
Observation 1: I get it. You guys make a lot of clocks and watches, but really, every other advertising billboard? I think I became a world expect on the inner machinations of performance timepieces just walking between the gate and passport control. Of course if you want me to return to Canada as a goodwill ambassador for your products we can certainly talk. ;)
Observation 2: I have a real hankering, nay a full on chocolate lust, for Toblerone. I doubt I'm going to get by Duty Free again without buying some....OK a lot. ;)
Observation 3: Not really a Swiss thing because she may have been a tourist, but Madam, cute butt or otherwise, you may want to leave the spray on jeans at home when you hit 55.
Observation 4:My room has a direct view of the mountains. I can also open my window fully and just soak in all that mountain air. Even if I wasn't dog tired having not really slept in the last 24hrs, I think I would be out like a light. If I had cotton bed sheets I may not wake for a week.
Observation 5: I am going to use every towel I can and even put the ones I don't use in the bath tub as well. Its principle.
Observation 6: This local draft beer is going down really really well.
Observation 7: Navigated myself successfully around the French dinner menu. Quite proud of myself actually. :)
Observation 8: Although I have seen many clocks and watches, I have not yet seen a cuckoo clock. Chocolatier? Yes; cuckoo clock? Nope.
Tomorrow evening I head to Paris. Would have liked more time to explore CH but hopefully i get a chance to return. Its choco heaven after all.
And now for a double espresso or five to wind the night down. ; )
Couple of observations about Switzerland, based of course on my rather limited exposure to all things Swiss.
Observation 1: I get it. You guys make a lot of clocks and watches, but really, every other advertising billboard? I think I became a world expect on the inner machinations of performance timepieces just walking between the gate and passport control. Of course if you want me to return to Canada as a goodwill ambassador for your products we can certainly talk. ;)
Observation 2: I have a real hankering, nay a full on chocolate lust, for Toblerone. I doubt I'm going to get by Duty Free again without buying some....OK a lot. ;)
Observation 3: Not really a Swiss thing because she may have been a tourist, but Madam, cute butt or otherwise, you may want to leave the spray on jeans at home when you hit 55.
Observation 4:My room has a direct view of the mountains. I can also open my window fully and just soak in all that mountain air. Even if I wasn't dog tired having not really slept in the last 24hrs, I think I would be out like a light. If I had cotton bed sheets I may not wake for a week.
Observation 5: I am going to use every towel I can and even put the ones I don't use in the bath tub as well. Its principle.
Observation 6: This local draft beer is going down really really well.
Observation 7: Navigated myself successfully around the French dinner menu. Quite proud of myself actually. :)
Observation 8: Although I have seen many clocks and watches, I have not yet seen a cuckoo clock. Chocolatier? Yes; cuckoo clock? Nope.
Tomorrow evening I head to Paris. Would have liked more time to explore CH but hopefully i get a chance to return. Its choco heaven after all.
And now for a double espresso or five to wind the night down. ; )
A Cup of Tea and a Bacon Sarnie
So kinda strange stepping back onto the Sceptered Isle after 15 years away....even if it is just in transit. One airport looks much like another these days and I really could have been landing anywhere. But I wasn't. I was landing in Good Old Blighty and I was ready to soak up all that the country had become in my absence. Of course an airport arrivals and departure lounge is not the best place to start but its all I have for a few days so if you feel I'm unfair, tough, its my blog. :)
Observation 1: Fast track? Not so much. One of the perks of travelling first class is, apparently, a fast track passport control check. It started off so well! I got to look at the great unwashed (TGU) as I sauntered past them. Got almost to the front of the line in record time and then.....nothing. Well to be fair it was one thing. One guy. That's it. I watched on in horror as wave after wave of TGU made it through ahead of me, our line bottlenecked by good old British efficiency. Maybe they were on a tea break. Benefit of the doubt and all. But maybe not. Maybe this is the way the Lib Dems are screwing over the Rich and Famous. Whatever the reason it was an inauspicious start.
Observation 2: This isn't freshly squeezed orange juice!
Observation 3: Toast it a little more please. A bacon sarnie is meant to be made with toast, not slighty tanned bread.
Observation 4: F@ck my carbon footprint. Stop reminding me of this hoax. I don't give a crap.
Observation 5: WTF is with all the sitar music? Did I miss my stop and deboard somewhere in Asia?
Observation 6: Yay for thick cut bacon!
Observation 7: Yay for HP Sauce!
Observation 8: Its a real shame when the pursuit of internationalism results in the loss of cultural identity. If I order a slap up English breakfast I want it served by somebody who looks like my mum....or somebody who would look at home in Corrie. Its part of the experience. Don't confuse this as a comment on race. It isn't. Its about culture; its about an identity. I wanted a breakfast experience and all I got was vanilla. F@ck even a trip to The Little Chef would have been more of a cultural experience. Vanilla disease (no not that kind of VD....minds out of the gutter please) seems to be rampant around the world and its a shame....a real shame. People crave culture and the opportunity to immerse themselves in a new destination. Why don't the people in power get that?
Observation 9: I had forgotten the tackiness of sitting at a table that has a number on it. Kinda eliminates any ambience the bacon sarnie generated. Lol
Observation 10: I am not a number! I am a free man.
Observation 11: Off to catch a flight to Geneva and hopefully wash the tinniness of the OJ from my tongue. Oh btw, after years slamming expresso, I am now addicted to it. Looking forward to many expresso buzzes! Even double and triple expresso buzzes! Buzzzzzzz!
Observation 12: WTF! No free refills!!!!!
Fin.
Just getting some practise in.
Observation 1: Fast track? Not so much. One of the perks of travelling first class is, apparently, a fast track passport control check. It started off so well! I got to look at the great unwashed (TGU) as I sauntered past them. Got almost to the front of the line in record time and then.....nothing. Well to be fair it was one thing. One guy. That's it. I watched on in horror as wave after wave of TGU made it through ahead of me, our line bottlenecked by good old British efficiency. Maybe they were on a tea break. Benefit of the doubt and all. But maybe not. Maybe this is the way the Lib Dems are screwing over the Rich and Famous. Whatever the reason it was an inauspicious start.
Observation 2: This isn't freshly squeezed orange juice!
Observation 3: Toast it a little more please. A bacon sarnie is meant to be made with toast, not slighty tanned bread.
Observation 4: F@ck my carbon footprint. Stop reminding me of this hoax. I don't give a crap.
Observation 5: WTF is with all the sitar music? Did I miss my stop and deboard somewhere in Asia?
Observation 6: Yay for thick cut bacon!
Observation 7: Yay for HP Sauce!
Observation 8: Its a real shame when the pursuit of internationalism results in the loss of cultural identity. If I order a slap up English breakfast I want it served by somebody who looks like my mum....or somebody who would look at home in Corrie. Its part of the experience. Don't confuse this as a comment on race. It isn't. Its about culture; its about an identity. I wanted a breakfast experience and all I got was vanilla. F@ck even a trip to The Little Chef would have been more of a cultural experience. Vanilla disease (no not that kind of VD....minds out of the gutter please) seems to be rampant around the world and its a shame....a real shame. People crave culture and the opportunity to immerse themselves in a new destination. Why don't the people in power get that?
Observation 9: I had forgotten the tackiness of sitting at a table that has a number on it. Kinda eliminates any ambience the bacon sarnie generated. Lol
Observation 10: I am not a number! I am a free man.
Observation 11: Off to catch a flight to Geneva and hopefully wash the tinniness of the OJ from my tongue. Oh btw, after years slamming expresso, I am now addicted to it. Looking forward to many expresso buzzes! Even double and triple expresso buzzes! Buzzzzzzz!
Observation 12: WTF! No free refills!!!!!
Fin.
Just getting some practise in.
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