I'm in the CLUB ... SMH

The aerobic portion of my isolation get-in-shape effort has been centered around my bicycle. Now that I have forced the joints and muscles of my posterior region to adjust to life perched precariously atop a small platform of high density foam, a hearty ride through the countryside has become enjoyable. It's taken a while, but I find I am choosing the bicycle as my preferred method of transportation.

Back in 2013, when I made a concerted effort to change my habits, the aerobic activity of choice was running, and if I'm honest, I really enjoyed it. Only AFTER I got in some sort of shape, though. Many a day dawned that I looked forward to a substantial trot through the trails we are so blessed to have access to in Barrie. When I decided that accompanying retirement would be get-in-shape V2.0, I thought running would be there for me, like a faithful old friend. My 56-year-old left knee quickly brought it to my brain's attention that there were some structural deficiencies that would prompt a change, signalling that my medial meniscus had balked.

Cue the bike and its beautifully low-impact exercise.

Those that care about my safety are always quick to remind me to be on the look out for potentially dangerous situations whilst out for a ride, and I always grinned, acknowledged their concerns and recommendations, but in my mind I was full of confidence about my abilities to deal with situations as they arose. After all, I had been on a number of long distance (for me, anyway) rides lately ... I visited my daughter in Angus; I visited my friend Val in Edgar; I ran an errand to Orillia; I went out and around Horseshoe Valley resort ... my metamorphosis from beginner to novice was nearly complete. Ahhh, said Darwin from his heavenly perch above, you become far too complacent with your new found abilities, so here's a little "Survival of the Fittest" situation to deal with ...

I was out for a morning ride and decided that zipping out the Simcoe County Rail Trail to one of the Oro lines that contained a bridge over highway 11 was the right choice. All was normal as I navigated the route to the beginning of the path near Thunder Bridge off Line 1. Joining the Rail Trail and carrying a decent pace, I was pleased that I had sole possession of the trail for as far as I could see. I was conscious of carrying enough speed that it was on the edge of difficult when a large hole in the trail, perhaps the result of an ambitious gopher, was quickly upon me. Faced with a 50-50 decision, I chose the right side of the hole, only to find that the gravel there was loose. The quicksand-like conditions grabbed my front wheel forcing my bike and I into the grassy edge ... A mushy, boggy grassy edge, thanks to the rain we've had over the past few days. No sooner had the thoughts of, "Uh Oh, this won't be good!" gone through my mind, I found myself airborne, being catapulted from my seat over the handlebars as the marshy ground locked onto my front wheel like a death grip from hell. Thankfully, I still possessed enough of my former athletic self to roll with the impact, bouncing to my feet in one quick motion. A quick status check revealed that I was unscathed. Turning to view my trusty two-wheeled steed, I could tell right away that the same could not be said. 

I am not a "Bike Guy". Nor am I mechanically inclined. It didn't take long to realize that the front wheel, in its present condition, was not going to allow me to walk, let alone ride, my bike back home. Faced with carrying it all the way ... likely 3-4 km ... I surmised that good old fashioned brute force was in order. I was thankfully able to take the front wheel off without difficulty, and after contemplating the requisite leverage to accomplish the job, I found a felled tree nearby that allowed a passable effort at smoothing out the metal. Remounting the wheel, I was able to manage that ride home without further trouble, albeit looking quite the sight, like a clown in a circus.

There's a happy ending to this story, and all it took was money! 

After assuring my wife that I was uninjured, a call to a real "Bike Guy" at the local BikeZone shop revealed there was a new rim was in stock, provided that I would be able to mount the tire + tube and exchange the disc for the disc brakes. I'm happy to say that all was successfully done and my steed was back in working condition. 

Suffice it to say that I will be able to chalk this up to learning, and perhaps heed the concerns of the those who care about me, but I'll likely follow the lead of the "Bike Guy" who, upon learning of my escapade, simply shrugged and said, "You're not a real rider until you sailed over your handlebars."

Wait a minute! 

Does that mean I'm officially in "The Club"? 

Cool!

Life is a 60's Spaghetti Western!

Clint Eastwood was a complete stud from the eyes of an adolescent growing up in the late 60's. One of my favourite movies ... I have many favourites ... of his was "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly". A 1966 release by Italian director Sergio Leone, the movie was, as the web site Rotten Tomatoes puts it,

"Arguably the greatest of the spaghetti westerns, this epic features a compelling story, memorable performances, breathtaking landscapes, and a haunting score."

I can immediately recall that reverberating whistle and its companion whine "Wha Wha Wha" as easily now as I could when I first watched it back in elementary school. Clint was the consummate cool dude and I remember thinking life would be grand if I could turn out even a fraction of cool as he was.

Over my years, just like so many others, I have made reference to the movie's title to draw attention to things that confound me. I recently decided that I would attempt to beat the forecasted rain warning and get a healthy bike ride in. Since I live in a part of Barrie that provides easy access to a network of concessions and side roads in Oro-Medonte, I pointed east for a planned 2 hour commune with the beauty of Ontario's landscape. It was during this ride that the whistle+whine percolated to the top of my consciousness.

If you've decided to get out and about in Ontario, the month of May offers you the splendor of our provincial flower, the Trillium, as it decorates the forests and road sides. Although I am no gardener or botanist, I do freely admit that the Trillium holds a special allure for me, especially the pink variety. This particular bloom was rooted on the forest edge on Line 3 very near to Horseshoe Valley Resort. If you're in a mood to check out a wider variety of blooms, the wooded path area in Sunnidale Park offers a cornucopia of blooms and colours. I would suspect that any healthy forest in Ontario would offer the same.

Getting back to the theme, this would be considered The GOOD.

I generally try not to ride on the busy roads when out and about in Simcoe County. Part of that is old fashioned paranoia; part is acknowledging the risks. What I'd like to draw attention to is the, for the lack of a better term, YAHOOS who race down the concessions and side roads like its life or death that they get some where. I know that it's my responsibility to bike defensively and to obey the rules of the road, but seriously, some of the vehicles passing me are well past the speed limits ... BY A LOT! What many may not realize is that the stones they kick up hurt quite a bit when they hit any exposed skin. Please, for the sake of those of us trying to stay healthy in this pandemic, slow down a little when you pass a bicycle.

This would be considered The BAD.

I think you can guess what is coming next, but you might be surprised by where. Finishing my ride, I rode through an area designed for people to park while they are out on their bicycles. As I rode through the lot, I was disgusted to see the refuse strewn about by obviously careless individuals. Unfortunately, it is somewhat normal to find Tim Hortons cups adorning the road sides on a ride, but what made this discovery boil my blood were the used PPE that had been so thoughtlessly cast about. The photo to the left is not one taken by me, but it gives a good idea of what I saw. I would say the most disappointing thing would be idea that the lot is for people who are trying to get out and do something about their health, yet they can't be bothered to properly deal with their PPE? Seriously?

For the record, that's The UGLY.

Billy Joel had it right!

Waaaay back in 1977, A young crooner released a single called, "Only the good die young" and it instantly hit the charts with a bullet. That crooner was Billy Joel and he most assuredly got it right! In what is turning out to be a really crappy month, I got the news that a good friend had not won her personal battle with the cursed scourge named Cancer.

Kelly Dunham-Buchanan was the older sister of Marnie Buchanan, a dear friend for over 25 years. The basketball community in Ontario is a lot smaller than you might think so it made perfect sense that if my relationship with Marnie became profound, then a relationship with Kelly was, as the French say, a fait accompli. The Buchanan sisters are tight, that is obvious to all who ever cross paths with either or both, and without sound like a cliche, they are great human beings. They are loving, compassionate, generous, upbeat, passionate, caring, and family-first in attitude. When Kelly passed, I know it kicked Marnie straight in the teeth and likely felt like a large portion of her soul was ripped away. Marnie and I have a special kind of friendship with a foundation built from our mutual love of coaching but that has intensified over the years, to the point where we are a phone call away for each other's needs, should it be required. That's not something specially reserved for me though, because Marnie has TONS of those types of friendships ... It's the way she's wired ... just like her older sister.

Marnie and I first met through Basketball Ontario, when we both were involved in the BDP-MDP-JDP stream of development programs. She was from "The Point" ... the Sarnie area if you're not familiar with that geographical reference ... where the Buchanan sisters were a force to be reckoned with in their youth. Following outstanding high school success, they both had careers in the NCAA, then followed that into the natural segue of coaching. During those early years, I was aware that Marnie had an older sister who was making waves in the OCAA, but we had only met in passing. When I finally saw the light and was accepted by Dave Grace to join the passion at Olympia Sports Camp, Kelly and I found our mutual love of youth sports was more than bridge enough to build a friendship. Those years were one laugh after another. If you have been blessed with knowing the Buchanan sisters, you will be astutely aware that they laugh a lot and LOUDLY, an infectious sound that turns the corners of your mouth up and shakes your midsection. It was during those years that I became aware of the nurturing soul that she was, watching her interact with her children Allie and Mitch.

Over the years that I was blessed to know Marnie and Kelly, I drifted away from Olympia, not because there was something wrong with the experience, but rather, I replaced basketball with rugby and coaching Team Ontario did not allow me to be flexible enough to continue at Olympia. Social Media having been born during that time in history, I was able to continue to be friends with Kelly and follow the various escapades of her family and professional life. Curiously, I only met her husband Doug a handful of times, and I doubt that he would even recognize me if we were walking in opposite directions down the street, but by all accounts, he was a great guy and loved Kelly dearly.

Such was the conundrum of Kelly ...
She was the consummate mother and partner with many knowing her as that;
She was a living legend in Hamilton thanks to her tireless efforts with Mohawk College and McMaster University and many knew her through that;
She was a pillar in the basketball community and A LOT of people knew her through that;
She was a great friend and sincerely wanted to know that you were good and life was fine ... that's how I knew her ... and I'm blessed by that.

Unfortunately, we humans are cruddy at telling those we care for EXACTLY how much they mean to us while they are alive. Building off Billy Joel's lyrics, when the good ones leave us far too early, there is a hew and cry that resounds around the chasm left, an outpouring of grief for both the loss and the lost opportunity.

Kelly was a wonderful person.
My life was better with her my friend.
She will be missed by a vast number of people.
That's the way she was wired.

10 Sporting Icons IMHO

Since you're reading this, you're well aware that I am somewhat active on Social Media. There are numerous "challenges" flying around Facebook, many of which I avoid like the plague ... or Corona virus. One struck me as an interesting exercise so I decided that I would give it a go. Essentially, I was tasked with identifying 10 Sports Icons, at least in my opinion ... something I love to share ... giggle. What follows is a synopsis of the 10 posts and my reasoning for the choices. Since I have plans for all of these posts, I wanted to include this in the library, since I had previously shared only through Facebook.


Post #1 - Michael Jordan, NBA GOAT
Likely spurred by my gorging on the docu-series "The Last Dance" that chronicles Jordan's basketball career, culminating in 6 NBA championships, 6 MVPs, 5 Championship MVPs, 9 All-NBA Defensive team, and 10 scoring titles, my agreement with Jordan's status as GOAT makes him an easy icon to identify. Although basketball has dropped below rugby to a close 2nd in my preferred choice of sporting activities as I aged, it still catapults me back in time to those years watching Jordan do his thing on "live" TV. While some will argue the GOAT label, I will always marvel at his ability to take over and will his teams to incredible performances.


Post #2 - Steve Hansen, Head Coach NZ All Blacks

As I said, as the years rolled by, I changed my preferences for spectator sporting events, perching rugby atop the personal pedestal. During that transformation, my appreciation for the game, its players + coaches, and its excellence was fuelled synchronously with the emergence of the New Zealand All Blacks as the premiere rugby nation. No band wagons here, but rather an extreme appreciation for the manner in which they staked their claim to the throne, the process they applied, and the many great teachings that came from it. Leading the charge for much of that success was head coach Steve Hansen, an ex-police officer who's brilliance was only overshadowed by his stoicism.

Post #3 - Dean Smith + Roy Williams of UNC

If we can all agree that MJ is in the top 3 of all time ... He's the GOAT but I'm being nice ... then, IMHO, you have to give props to his coaches. Having said that, I have to admit that I'm a DIE HARD Tar Heels fan and Dean Smith tops my list of college coaches. While his X's and O's were ground-breaking, it is the team building that I am most appreciative of. One of the simplest building blocks of team camaraderie is the NC finger ... No, not that finger ... or the acknowledgement of a team mate for creating a basket for you. Again, since I am admittedly a die hard, having Roy Williams, a Dean Smith protege, take over the reins of the program was the best case scenario.
Neat story ... I've met Roy Williams! I was coaching an AAU team based out of Toronto and we were at the Charlie Webber tournament down in Washington. We were playing at Georgetown and ol' Roy was there for some reason, scouting a good guess. Anyway, I took it upon myself to introduce myself ... What did I have to lose ... and he actually complimented me on my style of coaching. Roy Williams had noticed me? And liked what I was doing? Wow, I'm floored!

Post #4 - Dan Carter + Richie McCaw, All Blacks greats

Referring back to Post #2, I have admitted that I am a HUGE fan of the way the NZ All Blacks go about their business. It makes perfect sense then, at least to me, to acknowledge the contributions of both Richie McCaw and Dan Carter and their legendary deeds. McCaw captained the AB's for 110 of the 148 test matches he played in, winning 2 consecutive RWC's in 2011 and 2015. He also was named Player of the Year 3 times, sharing the record with team mate Dan Carter. Carter shares all of the AB accolades with McCaw, adding in his own feather as Leading Scorer in Test Match history. When you combine a legendary coach with two incredible players like McCaw and Carter, you'd think you've got it made, but the AB's are WAY more than that. 10 of the 19 POY awards have gone to AB's, an unmatched feat and a great reason for their sustained success.

Post #5 - Wayne Gretzky, NHL GOAT

Although Brantford, ON, would not be considered a small town, it wasn't always that way, so when "lil' Gretter" was honing his soon to be legendary status as a youngster, the community was all twitchy about this kid who was lighting up the local leagues. Of course, the nay sayers felt he was a "flash in the pan" but they soon "ate crow" as the Great One continued his domination first in the OHL then, ultimately, in the NHL, according to Wikipedia, "At the time of his retirement in 1999, he held 61 NHL records: 40 regular season records, 15 playoff records, and 6 All-Star records." I will freely admit that I'm not a "hockey guy" but I did spend goodly portions of my May and June watching the NHL playoffs when Edmonton was the apple of Canada's eye. 

Post #6 - Kareem Abdul Jabbar, NBA's Milwaukee and Los Angeles Lakers

I am a child of the 60's but didn't become an NBA fan until the 70's so the players that I grew up emulating on the playground were of a totally different era than today's NBA fans. Easily one of my favourite players and, TBH, the reason I remain a Lakers fan is Kareem Abdul Jabbar. He got a bit of a bad rap early on in his career for being his own man, a little different than the typical NBA star. I saw that as a good thing, and I loved watching him mold with the wide variety of players the front office enlisted for him to play with. When the inevitable retirement time approached, I watched with great admiration as he humbly received all the adoration.

Post #7 - Youth Leaders I admire: Paul Connelly, Ron Andrews, Paul Pendakis, Martin Carl, Wayne Dawkins, Roy Rana, John Daggett, Suche James, Sam Loucks

I have been blessed with a wide variety of experiences that have been loosely tied to the common theme of sport for youths. These 9 gentlemen ... and I already took the heat on Social Media for the lack of females - more on that soon ... have IMHO been incredible role models of how to invest yourself in a passion and convince your audience to follow, despite the effort and energy it takes. The group can be sorted into various activities:
Personal = Ron Andrews
Rugby = Paul Connelly, Paul Pendakis and John Daggett
Basketball = Roy Rana, Wayne Dawkins and Suche James
Community = Martin Carl and Sam Loucks

I have written at length about the debt I owe Ron both for his friendship ... invaluable ... and for his coaching guidance, especially in rugby. I could rehash it all here but suffice it to say that it is a debt that I can never hope to repay, save for paying it forward in hopes of continuing for the sake of future athletes.

Specifically looking at rugby, Paul Connelly (Uxbridge / Rugby Canada), Paul Pendakis (Saltfleet) and John Daggett (Georgian College) have each, in their own way, contributed to the person I have become. Connelly and Pendakis were the faces of heated rivalries with Central, culminating in some epic OFSAA battles over the years, but they were also tremendous examples of how integrity fuelled by passion can achieve results that were awe-inspiring. Even though we were rivals on the pitch, their willingness to grow a friendship off the pitch left an indelible mark on me.

John Daggett holds a special place in my heart for the growing friendship that we have built through our continuing partnership through GS State Rugby. Second only to Ron, John is the epitome of rugby ambassador, wrapped up in talent, and tied with great humanity.

Basketball was my first love, both as a player and as a coach. As I learned my trade, Roy Rana, Wayne Dawkins and Suche James each took turns teaching me, either directly or indirectly, how it can be done at the highest level. By far, Roy has ridden the train the farthest, and none were happier for him than I was when it was announced that he had finally realized his dream of coaching in the NBA when he was hired by the Sacramento Kings. To me, however, the value he gifted to youth through his tireless efforts at CW Jeffery's / Eastern Commerce and the Toronto Mission, were the stuff of legends. I will always be grateful for allowing this country bumpkin into the fold to work alongside him. Both Wayne and Suche granted me wisdom without ever knowing they gave as I watched them from afar build their impact and influence in very different ways. Wayne's Phase ONE program grew from the proverbial acorn into a mighty oak-like prep program, allowing some of the GTA's brightest to achieve goals that were once the stuff of dreams. One the few occasions we worked together ... Like his Canada All Star Game ... gave me an insider's front row seat for Wayne's passionate advocation of the Canada's great potential as a basketball nation. Suche's tireless drive at the helm of Frontenac HS rise to be considered one of the premiere high school programs in Ontario, in addition to his leadership at the OFSAA level demonstrated to me clearly the impact a person with a clear focus coupled with honour and passion could have.

Martin and Sam flat out did everything for their school communities, so much so that their names are synonymous with their schools. Martin primarily coached boy's football, girl's hockey and girl's softball but it is his role as organizer of tournaments, fundraisers and sports councils that he was best known for, some well so that on his passing recently, the outcry of grief spread far and wide. Quick to smile, crack a joke or acknowledge the positive, Martin was also not afraid to provoke an animated discussion, but never left it without ensuring that all sides were content. Sam primarily coached boy's football, basketball and rugby but he is best known for jumping behind the bench of any activity that his school needed him for. Passionate and driven, Sam is a "glass half full" guy who has a personality that lights up any conversation. Both Martin and Sam always place the best interests of their kids at the forefront of all decisions, ensuring that their school provided the best for its students.

Post #8 - Kayla Alexander, Megan + Kaili Lukan - The 3 most successful females I've coached

Kayla, Megan and Kaili are all Barrie Central Alumni that I had an opportunity to work with, a fact that I am very proud of. Having said that, these young women are cut from the same cloth as passionate, determined, focused, and driven to excel while being humble, caring and considerate at the same time. Kayla is the first born of Joe and Audrey Alexander and, interestingly, Joe and I faced each other on the court a few times during our own high school careers. Kayla took to basketball like a duck to water, eventually willing it to provide her with a gateway to the world after a stellar, record setting career at Syracuse, followed by a (so far) 7 year career in the WNBA and regular stints with Canada's National team. On top of that hectic schedule, she has recently thrown her hat into the world of children's books. Megan and Kaili are two parts of a 3 sister family that Central was blessed to have provided a training ground for, the oldest being Alyska. Their mother Marg was a outstanding athlete, an alumni of Canada Basketball, while their father John ... in a small world story ... was a varsity football star at St Mary's. While the girls inherited some genetic gifts, it was the mental side of competition that separated them from other great athletes and, IMHO, what allowed them to effectively make the switch from elite basketball to elite rugby. Perhaps the highest compliment I can give Marg and John is that their three daughters are incredible human beings with sparkling personalities while being different from each other. I've been blessed with coaching a number of great female athletes, but without insulting others, these three were pretty special.

Post #9 - Taylor Paris - Most successful male athlete I have coached

Taylor is the youngest brother of an incredibly athletic set of four brothers, a fact that likely contributed to his ultimate level of success, IMHO. Just like the Lukans, Cheryl and Marco Paris raised four very different sons, parental victory, and Taylor benefitted immensely from trying to compete with his 3 older brothers in a variety of skills and capabilities. I may insult some of the hundreds of players I've coached, but Tay is my choice as the most successful rugby player that I have ever coached. A quick Google search will provide the details of his success ... and there are many ... but what I value most is his sincere friendship. Having said that, Tay always has been, and continues to be, an incredible rugby player, possessing the rare combination of speed, agility, strength, power, toughness, focus, resilience and intelligence. A more likeable guy may exist, but I've not been blessed with that privilege.

Post #10 - Terry "Doc" Porter + Steve Nash - My FAV Canadian athletes

I would be willing to bet that if you asked any athlete who has had some success who was their favourite athlete, I'd bet you'd give the same answer as I would ... my father. In all honesty, my father was a high school stuuuud starring in multiple activities, even drawing the attention of the pros in both baseball and hockey, but football was his love and he parlayed that passion into a Hall of Fame career at Queen's University. While a pro career would have been a possibility, he chose medicine to be the way he would leave his mark on the world, eventually building a solid gold reputation for the impact he had on thousands of patients. A large part of the reason I feel I excelled in sports was thanks to my father, both Nature and Nurture. In an ultimate accolade, his high school team mates established the Terry "Doc" Porter Award, an annual recognition of excellence for graduating East York CI students. I've written about it before, but in a neat twist of fate, the inaugural recipient was an athlete who played rugby for me at Georgian College.
My favourite Canadian athlete whom I've never met is without a question Victoria's Steve Nash. An incredible high school athlete in basketball, soccer and rugby, Nash is the only Canadian named as the NBA's MVP, a feat he accomplished twice! it would have been truly Canadian of me to name Wayne Gretzky as my favourite, what with hockey being a religion in Canada, but I'm not a big hockey fan so my favourite has to love what I love. Besides, with all due respect to the Great One, basketball is embraced by more of the planet than hockey, so IMHO, Nash trumps Gretzky.

My blog, my rules.

The neat thing about this exercise, now that it's done, was to think deeply about what I value at this point in my life, and how that is exemplified in the wide assortment of successful individuals I have come to either know or be aware of. There's an expansive collection of people enshrined in this post ... and there's an equally expansive collection who weren't included.

I'll have to think of a way to write about them some time.

Memory Lane: BNC's Paper Jam

UPDATE: Mickey Pucci's bio was added PLUS a link to the latest video for Steve Miller Band's "The Joker"

In my continuing theme of revisiting things that left an impression on me from the schools that I have taught in, I return to the halls of Barrie North ... or, more specifically, the cafeteria of Barrie North. When school is in, every other Friday during the lunch period, the cafe walls reverberate with sultry sounds of the Billboard Hit List that spill out into the connecting hallways, filling the heart of the school with excited energy. It is not uncommon during these times to find students and adults alike bopping and swaying to the rhythmic beat of an all teacher band affectionately known as Paper Jam.


The band is comprised of teachers presently employed at North, but due to the reality of LTO (Long Term Occasional) contracts, the faces change slightly with each passing semester. The mainstays of Mr Burke Erwin, Mr Peter Ritchie, Mr Jay Rothenburg and Mr Mark Pethick form the stable core, but Mr Peter Flood and Mr Drew Forsyth lend their vocal magnificence when they're able. Some of the band actually teach music ... Rothenburg and Pethick ... but most of them are in it solely for their passion, and spreading that passion amongst the people in the school is their main purpose. Judging by the smiling faces, swaying heads, tapping toes and wiggly bottoms, their achieving a Level 4 evaluation ... sorry, a little edu-joke there.

One of the neat things about Paper Jam is their efforts to stay connected to the school even during this time of isolation. To achieve that end, they have collaborated on a few songs that were posted to YouTube by group tech master Pethick.

One is a popular Foo Fighter song "My Hero" and was dedicated to all of the health care and front line workers sacrificing so much for all during the pandemic.

Their next song was in response to Barrie North Alum Jason McCoy who released a new single "We are one", a collaboration with Jim Payetta, then challenged Canada to make it their won. You know Paper Jam had to throw their hat in the ring on that challenge.

The latest upload was a cover of The Steve Miller Band's "The Joker" featuring the velvety smooth vocals of Burke Erwin and the addition of Mickey Pucci on support vocals.

Throughout it all, it is yet another example of teachers ... specifically BNC teachers ... going the extra mile to engage students by making their school feel more welcoming, accepting, and a little bit more with it.

The opinion of these old eyes would be an effort well received. Kudos to you Paper Jam!

Jay Rothenburg

Jay is the music leader extraordinaire! A BNC alumnus, he is the Arts leader, the energy behind the music extracurriculars, and even a published composer, having recently created the theme song for the 2019 Special Olympics. An incredible music talent, Jay is a proficient with a number of instruments. Active outside of school in a variety of musical endeavours, Jay is a tireless proponent of the value that Arts education can play in everyone's life. Adding to that, he's an amazing human and a good friend.

Jay lends his rhythmic abilities to Paper Jam as lead percussionist.



Mark Pethick

Mark is the Yin to Rothenburg's Yang as the other half of the music educator team at BNC. Together, they lead the various bands and ensembles that BNC offers as extracurricular choices. Not to be boxed into a corner, Mark has also offered his expertise to Arts education having taught Digital Media and Photography electives, much to the delight of his former students. Mark has one of the driest senses of humour I know, generating smiles for miles with his quips. He's a dear friend and a wonderful person.

Mark is the face with the bass for Paper Jam.



Burke Erwin

Burke teaches English, coaches football + rugby, and sires gorgeous children, although that likely has a lot to do with his wife. Seriously, Burke is an amazing human who also plays a pretty wicked guitar ... so much so, he makes me think he should have played alongside Bruce Springsteen! An eternal optimist, Burke is full of smiles, compliments, and friendship. Like Rothenburg, he takes on a variety of musical projects outside of school plus he recently roused his closet thespian as a member of the cast of Mama Mia, presented locally.

Burke shreds the ol' six-string for the band.


Peter Ritchie

Peter Ritchie is the head of guidance at BNC, and has been for a very long time. That's not a shot at his age, but an shout out of recognition for the fact he has taught, more specifically at North, for a really long time. In fact, it's been so long that I really cannot recall what he taught before guidance. Easily one of the nicest humans I can call a friend, Peter is a man of many talents and very well liked by the entire BNC student population, especially when he grabs the mic as the 'Host with the Most" at assemblies and presentations.

Peter tickles the ivories for Paper Jam.


Peter Flood

I have to confess to you all that I don't know Peter very well, and I don't even have a staff photo of him. I do know that he is a part of the Math department and that he has only been a North for a short time. I will tell you that he seems like a really good guy and that he has a great rasp to his voice.

Pete is the primary frontman for Paper Jam.






Drew Forsyth

Drew is a Limited Edition! Extremely intelligent, musically gifted, incredibly funny, endlessly compassionate, devilishly mischievous ... a true buddy and a guy I am proud to call a friend. Drew started out in geography but both experience and desire landed him squarely in the midst of Native Studies, first at Central and most recently at North. Being HUGE student favourite, his teaching style is part Einstein, part SNL, part Columbus ... and as the photo left shows, simply zany, through and through.

Drew has loaned his vocal talents to the band's efforts on occasion and has slipped behind the drum set whenever needed.


Mickey Pucci

Mickey is almost never beckoned using her first name. "Poooch!" is the most popular version of her name, and she lives up to the its blessing by being one of the most bubbly, happy, content souls I've ever known. Quick with a smile and a giggle, she is a student favourite. Perhaps her more endearing quality is her persistence ... she's gone a number of years now working as daily supply or LTO (Long Term Occasional) ... but last year she finally got a foot in the door so North will likely be blessed with her big smile for a few years coming.

Mickey lends her sultry tones to Paper Jam.

Remembering Martin Carl

BAAAAM!
A shot straight to the gut in the form of a 5 word text.
"Martin Carl passed last night!"

I stared incredulously at the text sent from my good buddy Jay Malandrino, and my mind quickly raced back to just days ago when Martin and I had shared a quick catch up at a local grocery store. The pleasantries exchanged were the fodder of so many conversations previous ... How's retirement treating you? The family holding up? I stood in my kitchen, lunch's grilled cheese smouldering on the stovetop. Martins gone? He was only a couple of years older than me. He looked great when we spoke recently. Talk about a wake up call!

Martin and I have been friends for 20+ years. We first met when we were both taking an AQ course being taught by Marty McCrone, back when he still taught at Twin Lakes. It was obvious to all of those in the course that Martin was tight with another guy he always chummed with ... a shorter guy with a great big smile and a wonderful sense of humour ... Paul Bethune. There are a bunch of memories from the class but the one that resonates right now was the source of a true belly laugh, the kind that leaves you with stitches in your sides, tears in your eyes, and gasping for air. We had to do a health lesson so Martin and Paul, possessing the wit and intelligence that they did, offered our eyes a video based on condoms and their proper use. If you knew either of these guys, you've just found yourself grinning because you can truly imagine what these two would have included in the video.

Eastview celebrates it's 50th

There are many people in the SCDSB that would have know Martin better than I did because we never actually worked in the same school, but I can say that we worked together on a large number of projects that served the educational community through the SCAA (Simcoe County Athletic Association), GBSSA (Georgian Bay Secondary School Association) and even OFSAA. From my perspective, Martin loved teaching / coaching, that was obvious to anyone who knew him, but what was less obvious was how much he loved working with teenagers, going above and beyond to ensure that they had a greatest educational experience he could muster. Many will recognize Martin as one of the forces behind high school football in this area. To many he will be remembered as Mr Eastview, having effected a profound influence there. Some will be familiar with him in his role as tournament organizer for a variety of activities. Many a student sought his assistance through his role as Guidance counsellor at Eastview. His name was well known and he had a great reputation.

I was honoured to have attended Martin's retirement party last June ... if you're doing the math in your head right now, yes, he enjoyed less than one year ... and the packed room down at Donaleigh's was a testament to the broad reaching impact he had on so many. I learned a few things that night that were previously unknown to me and I came away with an enhanced respect for how much life he had packed into his years. Even when the hour was his, in that quiet moment we shared after the speeches were said and done, he steered the conversation away from my congratulating him by prodding me about how excited I was to be closing in on the great transformation myself. For Martin and I, that was always the way our chats went ... he was genuinely interested on how I was doing and offered thanks on behalf of students for my role in things.

Humble only sort of describes him, in my opinion.

Having said all that, Martin and I had our disagreements, but they were few and far between, usually centered over something that had to do with kids, issues we were approaching from different sides. Martin was a passionate advocate, often getting his hackles up when he perceived injustice, but it always came from a place of compassion and caring.

I am writing this as a tribute to Martin but don't underestimate the cathartic influence it has on my grief. Martin and I paralleled each other in our careers and have spent a lot of hours doing extras for the sake of the kids. He will leave a gaping hole in my soul, such was the power he had to connect with others.

To his wife Aileen and his two daughters, I offer my prayers that they will have the strength to endure the next few weeks of pain and anguish. There will be a lot of frowns as the news of his passing spreads.

Val Hargreaves, a close friend of Martin's and who looked to him as a mentor, said it best, "Love him or hate him, everyone has a Martin story!" Too true, Val, too true.

Heaven just opened the gates for a good one.

The Great Realisation

 

I stumbled across the"The Great Realisation" video on Social Media and it left me thinking about the state that we're in, how it's affected my life and family, and what the future holds. Give it a watch and see what thoughts it generates for you.

According to site The National - Arts + Entertainment,
"When Tomos Roberts, a spoken word poet from London, wrote The Great Realisation and posted it in video form on social media, he didn't think it would go viral. Nor did he imagine American actor Jake Gyllenhaal would approach him to potentially turn the poem into a book. The work, which reimagines our post-pandemic world, is written in the form of a bed-time story that is being read to a child. Filmed at home with his younger brother and sister, the video has been viewed more than 18 million times across YouTube, Facebook and Instagram since it was posted last week."

"I was trying to think of any good that I could even fictitiously create from this situation."

Tomos Roberts

A Kiwi-born London resident, the transplanted Roberts is Welsh by lineage, making for a truly global hodgepodge of backgrounds. He's not looking for a pat on the back for his search for optimism during these trying times, but feels strongly that there is always "a silver lining" pointing out that humans have endured many dark times in the past, each time emerging with new knowledge, understanding and insight. During the isolation, he has been able to get reacquainted with his younger siblings Cai and Sara. It is Cai that is the young child in the video. A testament to its virility, the video has spurred interest to turn it into a children's book, although I would personally endorse it being aimed at all ages, considering the lessons to be learned from its message.

Roberts writes his poetry under the moniker of Probably Tom Foolery and is a movie maker by trade, even producing his own YouTube channel. According to articles I found, and in an intriguing plot twist, Roberts' parents and older sister are in the NHS, doing their part to help Britain handle the Covid19 crisis. I, for one, will be visiting Roberts' YouTube channel every now and again, since it turns that the next Probably Tom Foolery piece called "A Tale of Two Mindsets" about the constant battle between optimism and pessimism, is expected to be out soon.

As always, I cast an inquisitive eye on reports of wondrous things purported via Social Media, but if the stories of ocean life swimming the Venice canals, the crystal clear satellite images of previously smog-filled cities, or the ever so slight drops in atmospheric CO2 are as real as reported, our "silver lining" could include inclinations toward some significant alterations to our new normal, when ever that happens, just like Roberts proposes in his poem.

I can confidently share that Joyce and I will be continuing with some of the lessons we have learned throughout this time, not the least of which is structured daily activity, increased personal growth via writing and reading, and more attention to family and the ties that bind us.

I can only pray that everyone is able to find some good amidst the trials and tribulations of this pandemic.

Happy Mother's Day to all moms!

Psssst ... Don't forget that it's Mother's Day this coming Sunday.

Make sure that yours gets a reminder of all she's done for you. In case you've never thought about it, the job's not an easy one, often thankless and stressful, but all the mothers that I know personally wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. The least we can collectively do to honour their devotion is a hug, kiss, and sincere thanks.

If you're like me, you don't always know where our North American holidays and traditions have come from. According to a little research and paraphrasing History.com ...

Our celebrations of motherhood has links back to the Greeks and Romans, who's festivals in honour of goddesses Rhea and Cybele were intended to pay homage to those who love and nurtured us. A more recent precedent for holiday is a Christian festival known as “Mothering Sunday” celebrated in the UK and parts of Europe, falling on the 4th Sunday in Lent. It was a time when the faithful would return to their “mother church”, the main church in the vicinity of their home, for a special service. As the allure of the church loosened its grip in the masses, children would gift their mothers tokens of appreciation and, eventually, the custom merged with Mother’s Day as we know it around the 1930s.

Our North American Mother’s Day holiday came as a result of the efforts of Anna Jarvis, daughter of Ann Reeves Jarvis, and was prompted by her mother’s passing in 1905. The original intention was to honour the sacrifices mothers made for their children. In May 1908, with some financial assistance from Philly department store owner John Wanamaker, the 1st Mother's Day celebration took place, fittingly, in a church in WV. Arguing that many holidays were biased toward males, Jarvis started a massive letter writing campaign urging the adoption of a special day honouring women and motherhood. After a grassroots swell in many states, Jarvis' persistence was rewarded by US President Woodrow Wilson when he officially certified the 2nd Sunday in May as an annual holiday.

If the story ended there, it would be a Hallmark heart-warming story. Unfortunately, even though Jarvis originally pushed for a family time between mothers and their offspring, involved the wearing of a white carnation and visits filled with family time, once it became a national holiday, it was not long before good old American capitalism cashed in on its popularity. She eventually became so disgusted by its commercialism that she actively campaigned against the purchase of gifts to celebrate, spending most of her personal wealth in legal fees suing the many groups that used "her" holiday to get rich. By the time she passed in 1948 Jarvis had disowned the holiday altogether, and even actively lobbied the government to see it removed from the American calendar.

I don't know about you, but I'm glad Anna Jarvis wasn't successful. I'll admit that I actively try not to contain my appreciation and thanks for all that my own mother gifted to me to a single day on the calendar, but I will attest that I make sure she knows how I feel every 2nd Sunday in May.

If you've read many of my previous posts, you'll recall that my father spent many hours each week early in my life stitching and casting people back together again, leaving my mother to deal with "the 4 warts" on her own for most days. Her super power was the boundless energy that she had corralling 4 boisterous boys and their many friends as they invaded our backyard and its in-ground pool. It was very common for us to arise after dad had left and be on the verge of bedtime when he returned, so it on many days it was all left in mom's lap. I'm not giving any family secrets away when I tell you that we didn't always make her life wonderful, and she was not shy about demonstrating her displeasure, but she was always there to offer a snack, bandaid, hug, or kiss, whatever was required. She was the taxi to all of our sporting events ... and there were many ... and I am confident in my opinion that watching was likely secondary to monitoring the other three.

I don't know if my mother will read this, but on the chance that she does ...  Mom, I want you to know how much everything you've done, sacrificed, given, accepted and tolerated is Uber appreciated and that I acknowledge the profound impact you've had on the person I am today. I also want you to know that I love the fact, as you so proudly state, that you've raised 4 very different men, and I agree with you that it shows how awesome you are. When this whole pandemic thing has faded into the past, brace yourself for a very long hug and a number of kisses ... I will have been stockpiling them for a while. I love and appreciate all that you are.

Memory Lane: Lights ... Camera ... Action!

I've written a number of posts about the memorable things I experienced being involved with Central, but some forget that I also spent a few years at North, and was duly impressed by a few things there, as well. Not the least of those experiences was the amazing series of elective courses that are Viking TV (or Vtv), skillfully guided by an amazing teacher the kids simply refer to as Emslie ... these days, you know that you've made an impression of high school students when they drop the Mr or Mrs and you're know solely by the your last name. Dave Emslie is genuine, compassionate, caring, charismatic, funny and really hard working, all traits that endear him to the kids at North. I am thrilled that we were able to foster a friendship during the years I taught at BNC.

For those that have zero clue what Vtv is, let me attempt to do it justice. Every high school has some manner of relaying information to its students and staff in a daily manner. When most of us grew up, that took the form of announcements over some sort of public address system. At North, that is accomplished via a daily live action newscast, affectionately coined Vtv, via an open-stream senior Comm Tech (Communications Technology) course available to gr 10 through "victory lap" that teaches students everything needed to know about preparing, creating and broadcasting a live news show. It is my understanding that Vtv was the brain child of Dave Fitt, a former BNC teacher who is now a Comm Tech consultant with the SCDSB, and has undergone significant improvements over the years to arrive at its present form.

Dave Emslie IS Vtv. While a loaded statement, from this adopted ex-Central viewpoint, it is an easy assessment to make. He is the visible face of it, he is the organizer, he is the energy, he is Vtv. His ever changing group are affectionately known as the Tech Crew and even have the wardrobe to go along with the moniker. Rare is the day that small groups of camera toting, energetic, zany Tech Crew'ers aren't occupying some space in the halls of BNC in preparation for the daily spectacle. If it is special, significant, or newsworthy, the Tech Crew will be there to capture the action, interview the participants, and create a professional looking journalistic expose to be broadcast that day, or at worst, the next day. All of this is possible thanks to Emslie's super power of magnificent multitasking. Having worked for a time in the industry, Emslie brings unparalleled experience to the daily problem solving that is Vtv, a process that appears to these eyes, as easy as herding cats.

If you pass through the main doors of BNC, continue straight ahead through the new Cafe, and veer slightly right, you'll immediately recognize the entrance for Studio 168, the home of Vtv. If you have zero experience with live broadcasting, you'll be surprised by the technical components at play in the studio. There is a computer lab, an editing suite, a control booth and set room that are filled with the latest and greatest equipment suitable to the task. On my various visits, I have witness the nervous energy of the most creative BNC'ers as they navigate the trials and tribulations of preparing for a broadcast that goes live each school day at 9:15 am. Some of the students gravitate toward to the filming, some toward the editing, some toward the microphone, some toward the control room and its telecaster, but one of the necessary components of a good grade in the course is taking a turn "on the desk" as one of two anchors of the daily show. Lovers of the limelight are free to volunteer to take on the roll, even if not registered in the course, but by and large the anchors are nervously manned by that semester's learners.

If you've not spent any significant amount of time in a high school, you'd be astounded by the level of improvisation that happens hour by hour, minute by minute, as the need to disseminate information is an organic process with ever present last minute changes. To navigate that mess, organize it into a sequential and professional broadcast, and solve the myriad of technical glitches that happen when communicating via the Internet, all in a time frame of 75 minutes each and every day is miraculous. All of the teacher/admin announcements have to submitted before 8:00 am each day so that the components of the 9:15 am broadcast can be written, edited and produced in time. It is the personification of organized chaos and requires the proverbial "patience of Job" to be at the helm. Now add in the fact that a significant proportion of the Vtv class changes each semester and have to be brought up to speed quickly, you should quickly understand that BNC has been blessed. Dave Emslie is that and more ... and he'll humbly tell you that it's the kids who are the real heroes.

Don't take my word for his wonderfulness ... Here's an article from BarrieToday.com about what he's been able to accomplish through Vtv on the national stage. CLICK

If you're interested in seeing the magic for yourself, you can visit the Vtv YouTube channel because why wouldn't you like to complicate your life by adding more to your plate if you were Emslie? You can find CLICK HERE to watch the daily livestream or catch up on previous features and broadcasts.

It really is a small, small world!

With apologies for the Disney reference, "It's small, small world", and the old adage about HOW small really rings true, at least for me. My wife complains, in good humour, that we can't go anywhere without bumping into someone I know but, truth be told, it really only happens in Ontario, where I've spent most of my life, or at sporting events, where so many like-minded people congregate. As my memory fades little by little, it's harder to recall all of the stories, but these are a few that make me smile.

Many of you will know that my father, Dr Terry Porter, was the only orthopod in Barrie for the longest time. That means that he has treated or interacted with a huge number of people, so the chances of me encountering people who knew him are pretty darn high. Now, couple that with the fact that he was a standout athlete at East York CI, getting noticed by scouts for baseball and hockey, and then continued to excel at Queen's University, eventually honoured by being inducted in their Football Hall of Fame, and you likely don't need more than one or two degrees of separation.

One of those stories happened while I was coaching the Georgian College Men's Rugby team. We had a youngster who made the squad who it turned out had come to us via East York CI. Revealing this little tidbit prompted us to share a small conversation after practice where it came to light that he was the inaugural recipient of an award that was created in my father's name by some of the players from my father's playing days at ECI. What's that? Two degrees?

Another story that involves my father and mother centers around a vacation that they took when I was still in elementary school back in 1972. They decided it would be a pretty neat experience to visit Russia, and since it was 1972 and the Canada-Russia hockey series was happening, they decided to take in a game. After the game, they were walking through Lenin Square when from amidst the babble of Russian they heard a voice in English, "Hey Tort!" You should know that my father's nick name at Queen's was Tortoise even though, for the life of me, I can't remember why. The shouter was a friend from Queen's medical school who shared the same notion of a vacation in Russia. That's a small world!

Growing up in Barrie from Gr 3 to OAC, then teaching-coaching in Barrie fro 29.5 years, it stands to reason that I would encounter numerous people whom I shared a commonality with, but some of my own personal stories still make my eyebrows rise.

In a previous post, I shared that I fully recognize I have led a privileged life. Following my university graduation, as was the tradition in my family, graduation earned you a trip somewhere with the Dear Ol' Dad, and I chose the Cayman Islands. I know, I know, rough life, eh? Anyway, it was a pretty cool thing to be 22 and away with your dad, and we were enjoying all that the Cayman's had to offer. A couple of days into it, we were walking one of its amazing white beaches, enjoying the sunset and the lack of people. Far down the beach, I could see there was a small group walking our way. As we both continued, I guessed that the group was comprised of young ladies approximately my age, and there was a feeling brewing. NO, not that feeling, but more of a Deja Vu. Ultimately, the encounter happened and, wouldn't you know it, the group was 5 girls I had just graduated with from Queen's PHE. It turned out that one of the girls parents owned a place there and they were celebrating the same thing I was. After introducing my father, we shared a lovely evening swapping stories and giggling. It really is a very small world.

When I was in my first year at Queen's, I chose to live in residence. The guy next door to me on my floor turned out to be a standup guy that you want to hang around with and we spent many a night laughing, singing along with his guitar, and generally being young university types. His name was Homer and he was in BCom. After year one, we drifted apart, occasionally running into each other at campus events, but we lost that first year magic. Fast forward 30 years and I am teaching at Central, organizing the school's yearbook class, and in walks Homer's doppleganger. It turns out that Homer had graduated BCom, gone on to Law School and set up practice in Barrie, of all places. His doppleganger was his son Isaak. We ended up having a great visit on parent night, rehashing our nefarious first year adventures ... oh, and Isaak turned out to be a pretty cool kid! The Circle of Life in play once again.

I was in BC in 2013, at the University of British Columbia, supporting my son Keaton as he represented Ontario at the National Rugby Championships. The rugby world is a small place since rugby is a fringe sport, so running into a long lost friend would not be a small world story ... but this one is. Watching KP do his thing one game, I felt a tap on the shoulder and, turning around, I found John Tait, the Canadian Women's 7s Rugby head coach. John is a Barrie boy and we hadn't seen each other in a number of years. We were chatting, watching, and generally enjoying the visit when he lamented that Barrie Central hadn't sent him any talent lately. I quickly retorted with names like Megan Gibbs, Emily Belchos, and Claragh Pegg who had proven to be very successful, but he countered that they were 15-a-side players and useless to him as 7s coach. He changed the conversation stream and asked about quality athletes that had recently graduated. I told him that one of the most talented athletes I had ever coached was a basketball player named Megan Lukan who recently graduated from her NCAA career and, interestingly, she had been a good rugby player as well. Judging by his raised eyebrows, John was interested, so I immediately texted Megan and put her in touch with John. One thing led to another and Megan traded a round ball for an oblong one, became a significant piece of the National team puzzle, and won an Olympic Bronze medal in 2016. The Circle closes again.

SIDE NOTE: Megan's "little" sister Kaili was every bit the athlete and she also made the switch from basketball to rugby 7s, following in her sister's footsteps. She is a mainstay on the Canada 7s right now with hopes of playing in the postponed 2020 Olympics.

Speaking of the Lukan clan, I was blessed with coaching all three Lukan girls and was reacquainted with their mother Marg, who was a friend of a friend in high school when she went to Innisdale. Marg was raising the girls as a single parent and was a big part of the reason that they excelled. As I became closer to the family, I was introduced to the girl's father John, and as we grew what I thought was a new friendship, we realized that our paths had crossed previously, way back in university football days. John played for St Mary's, and in 1985, we faced each other in the national semifinals, a game I have tried to banish from my memory after SMU came from behind in the 4th quarter. We shared a good laugh, reminisced and marvelled at how crazy life is that we would come full circle.

I am sure that any of you reading this have your own stories ... if we ever get out of this Covid quarantine business, I'd love to share a bevy and a bonfire while you recount the details.

My life on a rollercoaster!

I have lived a pretty privileged life, I admit that freely. As such, I have never had to look very far for a meal or a snack. One of the pitfalls of living a privileged life is the ability to eat WHAT I want, WHEN I want, HOW much I want, WHERE ever I want and, that coupled with oscillating will power, has led to some pretty serious peaks and valleys in my body dimensions. It is a life long struggle where I have succeeded and failed multiple times, likely having lost 5 times my body weight over all of those years ... I'm NOT exaggerating! This is a post about the trials and tribulations of being me ... it IS NOT pointing the finger of blame at anyone else, my parents included, because as I have remarked on a number of occasions, I have never accidentally eaten any thing!

Looking at some photos from my younger years, I can see a pretty healthy kid who had a nagging roll or two near his belt line. I recall being pretty active ... I did grow up in the times when playing outside was actually encouraged ... and I was blessed to participate in a number of unorganized activities and organized sports, even spending entire summers away at a canoe camp in Algonquin Park. Revisiting my pre-puberty memories, I can visualize scenes of me helping myself to multiple helpings of dinner, regularly eating nigh up to, and occasionally beyond, my satiation level. I grew up in a family of 4 boys who were all built like me, with similar appetites, and my mother was a good cook. She would cook a limited amount of dinner and the four of us would race to finish our first plate so we could get seconds, shaping habits that bewilder my wife and prompt, "Do you even breathe when you eat?"

As a consequence of a privileged life, I have grown up with the cupboards and fridge well stocked, allowing an independent youth to retrieve a snack whenever it was desired, and my brain desired it a lot. During the times that I chose to be Uber active, the energy in more or less equaled the energy out and my overall health was okay. Unfortunately, during the times that I chose to be less active, the balance was tipped heavily in an undesirable direction and my overall health suffered. Any psychologists reading this will immediately point out that radical changes to my thinking were/are required ... Yep, I get that, but I have struggled with this for a very long time. I eat when I am bored, when I am stressed, or in response to some cues, with watching sports on TV being a HUGE one.

Over the years, I have ridden the diet roller coaster. I remember keeping things at bay somewhat successfully throughout high school and university, again, mostly due to my chosen level of activity. Like all good things, my playing days came to an inevitable completion, and a combination of my continued over-indulgence, working a  hospitality lifestyle, and near nothing activity led to my first trip north of 300 lb massiveness. I had become like Charles Barkley, except there was no rebound to my round mound. My mother was the one who ultimately got through to me, sponsoring me to try Nutrisystem, and with my addictive, full-focused mentality in place, and I lost over 100 lb, becoming a poster boy for the company. What a lot of people didn't know was how active I had chosen to become, embracing running my activity choice, while radically changing the composition of my diet. Joyce and I got married soon after that so fitting into a reasonably sized tux was not an issue.

That lasted for a while. I was able to keep things in check for most of my elementary teaching career, but those old demons of over-work coupled with under-active creeped back into my life, as did my ever expanding waistline. Around that time, I was hired to teach at Barrie Central, joined some colleagues who were activity buffs, prompting me to "sacrifice" some duties during lunch to start running again, leading to the expected and desired reduction of what I remember to be around 60 lb.

Of course, old habits die hard, and a return to my ways of indulgence and negligent activity became more evident as I approached my 40th birthday. Looking back at the photographic evidence, I could see I was entering uncharted territory. My darling wife, ever so patient with my faults, coerced me to take charge again, and I was able to hover around 260 lb, or thereabouts, for a few years. That continued until I approached the dreaded 50th birthday and even I couldn't explain away my prominent belly that cleared the threshold a few seconds before my face did. A sad but humorous story to demonstrate the mental gymnastics I have allowed myself to participate in at various times in my life happened between Christmas and New Years in 2013. I was choosing to be very busy with teaching, coaching, parenting and almost everything else except fitness, eating too much and too often, things that I knew I shouldn't. I knew that I was gaining weight but I was rationalizing internally that it wasn't that bad. I had been stepping on the bathroom scale for feedback and it was telling me that I hadn't hit that magic 300 lb "line in the sand" that prompted panic. On three consecutive weighings, I hit 300 on the dot until it finally raised my curiousity.
"Hey Joyce. Do you know if there's something wrong with the scale?"
"I don't think so. Why?"
"It keeps saying the same weight."
"What does it say?"
"That I'm 300 lb."
"Hmmm ... I'm pretty sure that it only goes to 300."

YIKES, I thought, there's a good chance that I was well north of 300! Time to do something about that if I wished to see my children's marriages and my grandchildren. That was January 2013.

As usual, I embraced the choice to become more active, but my 50 year old body was not having anything to do with it. It was a true struggle this time, and I quickly realized that I would have to do other things to support my old habit of running the weight off. I had always loved resistance training ... a byproduct of varsity football days ... so it was a natural companion to the running, and true to form, I put the new regime in a strangle hold. As the weight slowly waned, and my frame added muscle, I started to feel better than I had in years, and something pretty cool happened. I actually embraced more nutritious cooking and portion control, leading to a full scale wardrobe change and I massive feeling of pride in a job well done. Joe Public saw a previously obese bald guy transform into first a Grizzly Adams type (those of you old enough will understand the reference) followed by a huge Handlebar Moustache accompanied by flowing locks. All was well and good.

That is, it was good, until I was transferred to North with the closing of Central. It was the new teaching duties, new teams + athletes, new colleagues, and new weight room which all combined to nudge me backwards. At first it was okay since I would make some time here and there to get active, but as my years at North continued, my old hard-wired habits surfaced again and their slowly changing body dimension issues. I'm usually the one behind the camera so I don't have a ton of pics capturing me in action. I can hear you thinking, "P ... you post a ton of selfies." which is true, but selfies are almost always shot at a good angle, hiding the evidence. In the few I have that other people took, hints of a slowly expanding midriff are detectable. As the end of a career loomed, the goal was make a few of those familiar changes and step confidently into retirement on the right path.

There is a happy ending to the story, however, because finally reaching the age that I could retire, with the increase in "ME time", I resurrected those habits from my early 50's. Starting the process in Florida was the easy part ... biking, walking and lifting are simple choices when the weather is warm and dry ... and the mandated isolation has only provided a minor challenge in motivation, shifting from the GC Fitness Center to the basement. I will tell you that the body weight exercise craze is more like powerlifting when you're a man of girth! I am proud to tell all that I am making progress, I can see the desired changes already, and I am thrilled to also tell you that Joyce has embraced the daily fitness routine too ... thank you YouTube! We have settled into the daily routine and are both feeling it's important to stay the course so we'll see where the next few months goes.

Wish us Luck!