From us to you, Merry Christmas!

It is my sincere wish that everyone in my friendship circle, be they close or acquaintance, has a wonderfully restorative, peaceful, family-filled holidays that finds smiles on your faces, love in your hearts, and the magic of Christmas in your souls. Joyce and I would like to thank everyone who has gifted their blessings to us through your kind deeds, words and thoughts. We live a privileged, fulfilling, and joy-filled life and we have our many relationships to thank for it.

The holiday season during this continuing pandemic is in full swing, craze-filled mode right now. One of the multitudinous privileges of retirement is being afforded time to take care of the holiday's To-Do list at record pace while avoiding the crushing crowds that are typical of a Canadian last minute rush. We are snuggled up on the couch, hot mug of tea in the right hand, some sweet, sinful treats in the left, enjoying the glories of our successes. 

Our kids will be joining us this year in our new-to-us surroundings, and I'm ashamed to tell that it will feel a wee bit awkward to be enjoying the happiness that comes with spending a Christmas morning with loved ones yet not being in the living room that featured the previous 30. Many of our family traditions were lovingly created there, and we're doing our best here in the "sunny south" but the re-creation efforts have been subtilely modified to fit into the landscape of condo life. 

One of those traditions is the Hide-A-Gift game. When our kids were quite a bit younger, we always hid one much desired gift then set them on a quest that required deciphering a set of clues to the whereabouts of their stealthily concealed treasure. As the years rolled by, the seconds it took to author the clues turned into minutes, the complexity of the clues elevated, and the screams of glee were replaced with adult-like giggles. Try as they might to give all outwardly appearances of calm, their facial expressions betrayed their youthful giddiness, a look of accomplishment accompanying the joy of a quest well conquered. 

Besides, I really like writing the clues!

Another family tradition includes the shameful excess of culinary delights like Christmas Eve h'ordeuvres, fresh baked cinnamon buns and Christmas Morning Wife-saver. The h'ordeuvres are not homemade ... we let others enjoy the joy of preparations ... but we certainly enjoy a wide assortment of sinful decadence while raising a glass of cheer in accompaniment. The buns were traditionally "fresh" from a tube thanks to the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but more recently our Uber talented daughter has applied her incredible baking skills to the task and our tastebuds delight in her home-made goodness. For those that have never heard of Wife-saver, it is a egg and ham casserole that my mother discovered in The Best of Bridge cookbook many, many moons ago, and has become entrenched in the holiday celebrations of each household in our family. Even though she now lives alone, my mom makes a pan in full expectation that at least one of her boys will drop in on Christmas Day to enjoy a piece and, very likely, take a huge To-Go portion. What's not to love? Eggs, bread, cheese, ham, butter ... all the staples of gluttony! HaHaHa!

It's a straight shot to the pancreas, that's for sure, and that's not counting the Holiday baking!

This will be the first of hopefully many Christmases with our children and their loved ones. It's most definitely the first one of Maddi & Chris' married life, and it's the first one that includes Keaton's beau Jessica. We're a pretty unique lot, so I hope that she's well prepared for it! Joyce and I will be pleased as peacocks to be hosting our now extended family in our place, but I'm sure there will be Hollywood-like flashbacks racing through our brains of those cherubic Christmas morning faces from early in our marriage. 

Maddi & Chris will make the trip down south for Christmas Eve and stay overnight for the morning's events before heading off to Chris' side after lunch to share their presence on the big day. Staying over means that the black tornado of attention, M+C's puppy Remi, will be coming for his first sleepover as well. Don't let that bundle of cuteness in the photo fool you! With apologies for language, the grown version of Remi is the epitome of an attention slut, demanding a constant barrage of belly rubs, ear scratches, and chest pats. It will be a first in many, many ways! Even though our condo is technically a two-bedroom unit, our second bedroom is a cycling "pain cave" plus storeroom, a direct consequence of our retirement-inspired downsizing, so we'll be rearranging things to allow for an inflatable air mattress. Maybe there's even a tent fort in the making?

It might sound like that's a complaint ... definitely NOT ... but it will be different!

Keaton and Jessica live in Guelph and will be arriving on Christmas morning since they're spending Christmas Eve with Jess' side. They'll make their arrival in the morning and the events outlined above will be punctuated with laughter, smiles, and maybe even a hug + kiss for the parents! Some people make statements about KP's demeanour, pointing out how quiet he is, or how he doesn't reveal a lot of emotions, but I will tell you there are a normal amount of emotions inside that outer shell, something that seems Jess has had a positive influence on with her upbeat, bubbly personality. They will be heading out around the time Maddi + Chris will because they have some other visiting to do.

I'm a Christmas loving guy. It's my favourite of all the holidays. I'm as giddy as a school child right now!

Merry Christmas or happy Hannukah, Ramadan, Festivus, or Kwanza ... whatever your family observes.

Thanks for the Memories!

Today is the final day of classes for most of Ontario's students for 2021, and whether those students observe Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Ramadan, or even Festivus, there's a buzz in every classroom thanks to the ever increasing excitement levels of an extended holiday from school. For December 2021, in particular, that very likely also means a break from the ramifications of an extended pandemic that is awash in new concern with the explosion of the Omicron variant. As a retired educator who has offered assistance to my colleagues still full time employed in the form of supply work, I certainly empathize with the extra stress and fatigue that comes along with continuing to make education work despite what appears, at least to me, as grave mismanagement on the part of the Ford government.

When the SCDSB chose to shutter the windows and lock the doors of my beloved Barrie Central CI, the lead office manager was one of the nicest, caring, loving individuals you'd ever wish to meet in Stavroula Tsarouhas, or Voula as we all knew her. Why tell you this, besides the fact that you really and honestly should get to know this incredible woman? She has faithfully initiated an email chain at every major Canadian holiday with well wishes and outpourings of love to a large number of the staff who were standing on the deck of the good ship BCC as she sank, and every time I get her email, I smile widely from the swell of happiness and pride that washes over me. Her 2021 Holiday email came recently, and it's like an early gift, sitting under the tree waiting to be opened.

Like the proverbial breaking of a dam, once the integrity of the dyke is compromised, the raging tidal wave of memories hits me with the force of a runaway train, bringing with it fragments of Decembers past where countless hours of creativity and refinement were gifted to the Central student body in the form of the annual Teachers Assembly. 

As a graduate of BCC, some of those memories are from when I sat in the audience and watched as Doug Eves sang Duke of Earl, Dave Garland and other coaches performed the Nutcracker Ballet, Brian Honey and others bared their bellies in Whistle while you Work, and Bill Huddleston earned the nickname Huddle-Rock as he led the Teacher's Rock Band with the wail of his guitar. If some of my classmates from those years read this, I am sure their brains will swim with similar images. Alas, I am not aware of video footage of those assemblies from so long ago.

As a staff member at BCC, I was "dug in like a tick" when it came to making a complete fool of myself in the hopes that the students would erupt in a euphoric cacophony of guffaws, just I had when my hind end sat where they were. I donned the tights for 3 renditions of the Nutcracker, sang ... not well mind you ... on a number of occasions with the famous Teacher's Rock Band, with classics like Raise a Little Hell, Sharp Dressed Man and even Old time Rock 'n Roll. With the help of my Uber talented colleagues, the tradition of GAP and Old Navy commercials began, video parodies of popular songs like Nickelback's Rockstar or Adele's Hello thrilled the audience, and Vaudeville-like skits left the entire audience gasping for air. You could always count on that final day to be one of the highest attended days of the school calendar.

As Central's Yearbook advisor during those years, I was entrusted with whatever video proof there was of such stratospheric happenings, so when the demise of Central came to fruition, I snatched up some of that footage like the Grinch himself. Snippets of those performances have survived to this day on YouTube under the group name of The Barrie Central Phenomenon, waiting for students and teachers who may wish to jumpstart their Hippocampus. 

You can take a shortcut by clicking here: The Barrie Central Phenomenon 

I've had people over the years since BCC was closed that shared they felt strongly that I should stop living in the past by kicking the habit of reminiscing so often about those years, and thereby, let Central die once and for all. 

There's a simple answer to people like that ... NOPE! 

Those years are a big part of who I am and I'll wax nostalgic often. Besides, there's a large group of friends comprised of former students and colleagues who share my enthusiasm, the bond shared not unlike sugar dissolved in water ... once the deed is done, it takes a great deal of effort to undo.

For today, I'll sit here in front of my trusty laptop, pressing play on the videos in the group, and giggle my way to a tremendous evening. 

Happy Holidays everyone!

The 3rd side of the whistle

The title might make a few of you wrinkle up in curiousity. I'm referring to the notion that I started out on the sound side of the whistle, transitioned to the clipboard side of it for a really long time, and am now on the blowing side. The game can always happen without officials, especially in it's purest form, but as soon as you introduce coaches, parents and scoreboards, the need for referees is introduced.

Those connected to me on Social Media already know that I stepped out of my comfort zone following the moved to Guelph by joining GBABO ... the Guelph Board of Approved Basketball Officials ... in a effort to stay connected to education and coaching while giving me something to challenge myself with. I don't mind telling you that I was a little anxious about getting behind the 3rd side of the whistle, but I'm happy to report that my feelings of competency have quickly risen as the games rolled through. What many may not know is that I was a proud member of BDABR ... the Barrie District Approved Basketball Referees ... for a number of years back in the 90's and early '00's before stepping away when I took over the men's basketball program at Georgian College in 2007, and although it wasn't like the old adage, "It's as easy as riding a bike", it wasn't a painful process either.

Thus far in my GBABO experience, I have presided on 16 games ranging from Guelph to Orangeville and the areas in between, with a trip to Shelbourne for a playoff match-up coming early next week, and I am pleasantly pleased at the speed with which my confidence has grown. Further to that, in my most recent match, a coach on the low side of the scoreboard was attempting to "massage" my decision making with challenges to my competency, and after ignoring the loudly expressed commentary for a few outbursts, I felt great empowerment in addressing what I would and wouldn't tolerate in my most politically correct fashion. My to my pleasure, the coach grinned and quietly replied, "Now THAT's how you deal with an a$$h@le like me", while offering me props ... it's Covid after all.

Easily the largest single source of anxiety surrounds my adaptation to the FIBA ruleset after refereeing/coaching in NFHS and NCAA for so many games earlier in my tenure, but I am putting in the effort to make speedy progress in both understanding of special situations and the proper execution of the communication required. The second largest source would be officiating with a shot clock since all of my previous experience was in the pre-shot clock era, and while it continues to be a work-on, I'm feeling more and more aware with each passing game. 

Whenever you work with youngsters, the opportunity for smile-generating circumstances looms large, and my return to game has proved chock full of giggles, mostly the direct result of athletes who don't take themselves too seriously. The Guelph area, unlike many other areas (Barrie being one), did not start inter-school basketball right away when school resumed so the playoffs for the girls begin later this week. My recent games have either had direct playoff implications or been the end of the line for teams that were already mathematically eliminated, each bringing it's own unique potential for interesting happenings. It never ceases to cause me wonder when young athletes flip the mental switch to shed the pressure of the occurrence, "living in the moment" with a huge smile on a sweaty, beaming face as they thoroughly enjoy what they're doing, oblivious of the scoreboard.

Case in point, I had shared a couple of giggles with a young very talented point guard in a match recently, so there was a minute amount of familiarity established, and when the final whistle sounded, she was in possession of the ball, and approached me to hand it, choosing not to pass it to me from afar. As she approached, my smile was hidden behind my mask ... I choose to wear a Fox40 version with a whistle attached inside ... but I guess she deduced my emotional state from the wrinkles around my eyes.
"That was quite the game, eh ref?"
"It certainly was. I was most impressed with your talent."
"Wow! Thanks for saying that!"
"Sorry that your team struggled on the scoreboard tonight. The effort was outstanding."
"Really?" She looked up. "I didn't even know what the score was ... I was having too much fun!"
"What a wonderful thing to hear! Players don't say that very often."
"I guess I knew we were losing but I was enjoying it so much I didn't even look. Thanks for doing the game. I like the way you ref."
"Well, you just made my night! You know, I always try leave a game in a way that players can't remember who officiated it. I know I've done my job when it was all about the game."
"Huh, that's a neat thing. I never thought about it that way. Thanks again. Oh, and Merry Christmas!"
"The same to you, young lady. Enjoy the rest of your night."

I've said it before in closing of other posts, but Life is GOOD, isn't it?

Just Be Good!

Have you ever heard of John Herdman? If not, or if you have but can't place the face, he's the former head coach of Sunderland's Youth Academy, New Zealand National Women's team, and Canada's Women's National Soccer team, but now leads the Canadian National Men's soccer team, a group that are on a tear at the 2021 CONCAF tournament. While his coaching pedigree is impressive enough, it is something off the pitch that drew me to write about him, when I watched a TED talk of his from a 2015 Vancouver TED conference.  

Herdman is English by birth, born in 1975 in Consett, County Durham, and has spent the vast majority of his adult life as a professional soccer manager. As an offshoot of his elite level coaching, he is adept at the mental side of elite sports, and success has naturally followed his influence taking both New Zealand and Canada to FIFA World Cups and Olympic tournaments. Canadians have a special place in their collective heart for Herdman after our National Women's Olympic soccer drought was broken with a Bronze medal in 2016. Considering the recent improvements of the Men's National team, the optimist in me is hoping for more Olympic success in 2024.

Do yourself a favour and press play on the video!

As a proud Canadian who has sung our National Anthem 100's of times over my 58 years, I had not stopped to examine the message contained in the lyrics prior to Herdman's insistence in his talk. To quote him, Canadians possess "one of the most powerful pieces of literature ever written" in our national anthem, even going so far as to intonate that all of the spiritual guidance one needs is contained therein. 

The essence of Herdman's talk, without spoiling it if you haven't yet pressed the triangle, is to live above the mediocrity line by Being Good as close to 100% of the time as possible, a task he confesses is extremely difficult. Referencing the anthem's lyrics, he challenges the audience to exercise their ability to choose glory (... glorious and free) by recognizing and focusing on what pulls each of us toward high performance (... our True North, strong and free). Both of these challenges are not possible without the introspection that comes with understanding who we are deep down inside, and embracing the notion that we are solely in charge of that decision by accepting responsibility for our own destiny.

There's some awfully powerful messages contained in this talk, and I will freely admit that I came away from my multiple viewings of it with a renewed sense of both pride in what I've accomplished thus far and renewed focus on what I still wish to achieve with the time I've got left. 

One of the portions that really got to me, deep down in my core, was something I feel I've lived for a long time but never encapsulated in a single idea as well has his "Oh Shit Moments". I immediately thought of the messages I've read or heard over my life that address the ideal. You likely read them too; "Greatness starts at the edge of your comfort zone" or "Comfort is the enemy of achievement" but the notion that we are truly the consequences of our "Oh Shit Moments" is simple and enduring.

Another was Herdman's line drawn in the sand challenging us to identify when we had consciously acted with intention to impact our kid's lives, our spouse's life, our colleague's lives without coming off like some fire and brimstone sermon. Probably the purest truth of that portion of the talk comes when he cautions that you really won't know if people are actually listening or what sense they're making of your interaction unless you do a deep dive into your own "meaning maker" and challenge them with a question that will cause their own deep dive for an answer. 

In his words, "Who are you as Canadians?", personally leaves me deeply mired in my own thoughts.

The last part I'll emphasize occurs when Herdman talks of the team's True North. He washes over it quickly so it's justifiably easy to miss like I did on my first viewing. I'll put my own understanding out there for all to criticize: Instead of gripping a toxic goal tied to material rewards like win an Olympic medal, the team embraced what's inside of the medal ... their connection to each other and their country, their determination to create and leave a legacy, and to be fulfilled with their effort regardless of the end result. 

That's powerful, challenging, and scary as crap because there's no where to hide, no deflection of blame, no excuse to suffice.

I've book-marked it so I can go back and listen again and again, lest I lose my way from time to time. I may not be actively coaching any longer, in the common definition of the term, but I have vowed to remain a coach for my children, my spouse, my family, and my friends by "walking the talk", as the saying goes.

Do yourself the favour of listening to his talk.
IMHO, you won't regret it.

I wish you enough!

Staying with my theme of little golden nuggets of wisdom uncovered during a journey through the murkiness of Social Media, here's another thought provoking, gut wrenching, attitude changing diatribe of profound retrospective that resonated with me enough to share.

The post I copied this from credited Bob Perks, and I have no idea who the man is, but like the previous post about Kerri Grote, I really wish I had the pleasure. Once again, I have neither the knowledge as to its validity nor the inclination to research, but I do know that after reading it, I spent some time thinking about the message. 

For me, that's one of the great powers of Social Media ... it makes me think.

Recently, I overheard a Mother and Daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the Daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the Mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough."

The Daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." 

They kissed and the Daughter left.

The Mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say Good-Bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" 

"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever Good-Bye?"

"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.

"When you were saying Good-Bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?"

She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." 

She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory:

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.

I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person. 

An hour to appreciate them. 

A day to love them. 

And an entire life to forget them.

Mindset: It's NOT a battle!

With all of the negative publicity surrounding the ills and harms of Social Media, every now and again it gifts us a little gem of thought-provoking perspective that shakes the very foundations we base our opinions on, relegating us to re-examine our beliefs, attitudes, assumptions and convictions.

This is one of those, and it certainly resonated with me! 

It was attributed to Kerri Grote, and was posted on her friend's FB page, with an explanation that these were her words at the end of a particularly difficult battle with cancer. Yes, I am placing faith in the honesty of Social Media, but it really doesn't matter if it's not true because the message contained is pure gold. I've lost loved ones and good friends to cancer, and even though they lost, they were ever bit as courageous and heroic as those I know that survived. 

Kerri Grote, I wish I had known you. You sound like an amazing woman.

If you’re reading this, this fu$king brain cancer probably got me.

But let me be crystal clear while I’m able: I did not ”lose a battle” against cancer. This is a ridiculous, steamy pile of horse shit that society has dumped on cancer patients. Western medicine, and Western culture, especially, is so uncomfortable talking about death that instead it created this “battle” analogy that basically shames people who die from cancer.

News flash: None of us gets out alive from this rodeo called life.

There is no shame in dying from cancer, or any serious illness. And it doesn’t need to be a battle. It’s a transition that each of us will go through. I was asked by a shaman, whom I spoke to after my second brain surgery, “Are you running towards life or running away from death?”

Whoa! That got my attention. There’s a BIG difference. 

I got it wrong more often than not. Don’t let fear fuel your choices. Live fearlessly. Run TOWARDS life. Don’t worry about what people will think. Trust me, it doesn’t matter. Focus on you. Be true to yourself. Be your own best friend. People who tell you you’re selfish are not your people. If the voice in your head says these unkind things, get a new voice. Honour your mental health and seek out a good therapist with the same vigor you’d search for a romantic partner.

Speaking of that, be intentional about cultivating friendships that lift you up. As those friendships grow and change, don’t overlook them while you search for that “great love of your life.” No, I’m not suggesting you sleep with your bestie. But you do you!

Another unhelpful message that we get from society is that we need a “love of our life,” as a romantic partner. Single and childless when I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, I looked around my life and came up sputtering and sobbing from the wave of grief washed over me. I thought I’d be doing this alone… no husband, no kids, no “great love.” How wrong I was. At the first appointment with my neuro-oncologists, one of the nurses diligently hauled in chair after chair for the great loves of my life who came with me that horrible day and many days after that.

I sat and listened while the doctor explained the 12-month treatment plan, focusing on my breathing, then looked around the room … filled with great loves of my life: the incredible women friends whom I had met at various stages of my life. Surround yourself with people who contradict that unkind voice, people who see your light, and remind you who you are: an amazing soul. Learn how to receive these reflections from your people. Because they are speaking the Truth.

Love yourself, no matter how weird and silly it might feel. Every morning, give yourself a hug before your feet hit the floor. Look deeply into your eyes in a mirror. Say to yourself, out loud, “I trust you.” That voice in your head might say you’re a dork. Ignore it. 

As I prepare to leave this body and embark on this mysterious journey of my soul, I hope these observations from my deathbed are somehow useful. What I know, deep in my bones, is that learning to love myself has led me to be able to say this: I’m so proud of how I lived.

May you, dear reader, feel the same when you head out on your soul journey, too. 

Until then, enjoy the ride. 

And always eat dessert first, especially if there’s pie!

Losing sometimes means you win!

It's a relatively dark, damp Saturday night after spending the better part of the afternoon in the rocker watching my beloved Gaels win their 2021 OUA semifinal match vs Ottawa ... What the heck is a Gee Gee, anyway ... and although I deeply enjoyed the Big Yellow Guys continuing their undefeated ways, I would be lying if I didn't admit that there was a something missing. That something would be the ability to cheer on the Georgian College Grizzlies Men's Rugby team as they faced St Lawrence College in the OCAA Championship. I was missing it because the STL folk couldn't figure out how to stream the game for anyone outside of the Kingston area to support the wonderful young men that were representing their colleges with blood, sweat, and for the losing team, tears. 

You might have read that and wondered, "Why would P be so hot 'n bothered by a college rugby game not being streamed?" What many may have forgotten is that I was blessed by the welcoming arms of the athletic staff at Georgian, not the least of which would be head coach John Daggett, for 11 years prior to the move to Guelph this past June; 7 of those were with the rugby program and 4 were with the basketball program. During my involvement with "GC State", I learned an immeasurable number of things about some great young men, some fantastic middle aged fellows, and even a little about myself along the way. While a most definitely bleed Red, Black, and White ... Go Central ... a significant portion of my being leans toward the Blue, Black and White, and in particular, to the Men's Rugby program. 

The following paragraphs will be a gushing appreciation of the incredible people that I have come to know through my involvement, in chronological order with respect to the GC program.

I first met Jeff Harris, the GC Varsity Coordinator, when I was applying to the vacant Men's Basketball Head Coach position, and in his role, he was leading the interview team. After successfully winning the job, I would come to know that Jeff is not only extremely competent in his role, but a tremendously knowledgeable, supportive, friendly and genuine man. After a short hiatus from GC, he welcomed my return with a huge hello, a firm handshake and a big smile. Over my 11 years involved with GC, I consider Jeff to be a good friend.

John Daggett, if you've never had the pleasure, is a limited edition when it comes to the list of people you definitely want to meet! Rarely in my life have I met a more warm, more genuine, more giving, more honest, and more intelligent person, and I consider myself fortunate indeed to be able to call him a friend. "Dagg" as most refer to him, has been the Head Coach of the GC Men's Rugby program for 10 years ... I think ... and has been the singular driving force behind the transformation from also ran to perennial favourite, from peculiar oddity to respected powerhouse, from erratic curiousity to consistent frontrunner. Going solely on personal memory, John's leadership has resulted in 9 OCAA medals, 7 of those in each of the last 8 seasons that the OCAA held competitions ... thanks a lot Covid ... earning a berth to the last 3 championship games. During this time, John has impacted the lives of a host of young souls who were looking to continue their love of our beloved game by not only offering a top notch program, but also establishing a personal connection with the overwhelming majority. John is a most engaging personality, quick with his acerbic wit, warm and personable in conversation, brutally honest and accurate in evaluation, and the first in line to give the shirt off his back. Constantly striving to know more, teach more, lead more and give more, he is one of the most respected in the game, known nationally in reputation. If that's not enough, as first co-op coordinator and now co-op manager for GC, he has established himself as one of the most respected components of Canada's leading career placement colleges. 

This is a man that you definitely want to meet!

The success of GC State, as it is affectionately coined, may have been led by Dagg, but it has not happened without quality assistance from others "cut from the same cloth" to fill in the necessary extras. One of the longest standing assistants is a still relatively young Josh "JayMo" Morgan who made the transition from player to coach following a stellar playing career that involved much success at first Barrie Central, then Barrie RFC, and the Guelph Gryphons prior to donning the blue and black of GC. Josh is a rugby enigma that I first met when he played for me at Central. Although physically gifted and tremendously talented, he burst into the limelight in his senior high school years, first as a "Super-Sub" then a team leader, on route to a few OFSAA medals, following it up with a storied career as a Gryphon, before adopting a player-coach role at GC, early in my involvement. Josh is the personification of the saying, "He wears his heart on his sleeve" and has been a beacon of positive energy around JC Massie Field for 7 or 8 eight years. Not all that different from Dagg ... high praise ... he is beloved by many for his ability to foster engaging friendships while still maintaining the player-coach dynamic, and his "Let's go scrum engine!" cheers are legendary in both volume and sincerity. I'm indeed privileged to have his friendship. 

He is also a guy you want to meet!

Paul Lemmon, Mike Sabourin, and Mike Alcombrack have all hitched their carts to the GC team over the last few years, first as friends of the program through the college's interwoven relationship with the Barrie RFC, then as passionate and knowledgeable assistants who have helped shape the GC program into the Juggernaut it has become. 

Paul Lemmon and I go waaaaaay back! As a standout BRFC player, he took me under his wing when I was still a young man, and shared his winning ways. A man of few words, his quietness belies the smouldering competitiveness that lies just below the surface, and is easily one of the most intelligent people I have a personal connection to. Preferring to work in the background, Lem is quick to interject a brilliant insight or three into any discussion. Once you get past the quiet outer shell, you quickly learn that his smile is quick, his wit is sharp, his warmth is wide and his compassion is endless. I greatly value his continuing friendship!

Mike Sabourin, if he doesn't mind my honesty, has quickly fashioned himself to be an outstanding young coach through a constant quest to learn as much as he can in the shortest length of time. While he has rapidly built himself into an extremely knowledgeable and competent coach, it is his innate ability to create quick, deep connections with players that endears him to the program. He has been integral in support of players who needed that extra little bit to navigate the pitfalls of college life. I am confident in saying that he is directly responsible for the successful careers of a host of young men who have represented GC as either go-to's or supporters. I am touched that he values our friendship as much as I do.

I have know Mike Alcombrack for a number of years, dating back to the 90's when he was a standout multi-sport athlete at Barrie North, but we have cemented our friendship over the recent few years, sharing space at Barrie North when I transitioned after the closing of Central, as we jointly steered the Viking's rugby ship toward it's first OFSAA Consolation Championship. As a integral component of the rising success of the Barrie RFC, "Alky" has been a present personality at GC training sessions as he and his Sr men's team offered advice and tutelage to the GC forwards. Moving sideways from player to coach, he officially joined the GC coaching staff this season. Not surprisingly different from the others I've described above, Mike's engaging, passionate, compassionate nature has been a welcomed addition to an already All Star cast. Add all that to the fact that he considers me a friend and I'm most honoured.

Like Dagg and JayMo, these are 3 guys you absolutely want to meet!

There are a handful of players from the 2021 team that have likely played their last games for GC, and while I know a few fairly well through the time I coached them, there are 3 that I will center out because there's a strong likelihood that our off-pitch friendship will continue going forward. 

The "youngest" of those relationships is with BNC grad Duncan Montague. An extremely likeable, passionate, and engaging young man, I quickly gravitated toward Dunc while coaching him for the 3 years I coached rugby at North, culminating in the 2019 OFSAA Consolation Championship. Having the opportunity to continue our journey through the lens of college rugby was an added bonus. His commitment, passion, leadership and spirit certainly helped with the quest for the 2021 season. Thanks Dunc!

I feel that I was blessed with the opportunity to develop a relationship with Donovan Jacko. Coming to GC following a university experience in Windsor that included a football career, "Donny" was a mature presence ... he recently just turned 30! ... that loaned a stability to the GC program, especially in the backs, as a host of "young bucks" came and went during his accolade-filled years. His quiet, calm demeanour belies the ferocity with which he plays the game, but it is his consistency that separates him from many, leading to many OCAA All Star nominations. A consummate family man whose wife and darling daughters are ever present on the sidelines, Donny has now set the standard by which all others after will be measured. You're one of a kind Donny!

My longest relationship is with Matt "TeamStar" Triemstra whom I first met when he was a Gr 9 skinny, lanky younger brother of his sister Brittany who played basketball for me at Central. That started a 7 year friendship that survived the closing of Central, the transition to North, and the graduation to GC State as he grew and matured into a tremendously affable and talented young man. TeamStar and I have shared A LOT of success over the years in a variety of sports, but I will forever love the easy smile and quick "Hey P" he offers every time we meet. It's rare these days to share such a lengthy journey with an athlete and I certainly hold ours dearly in my memories. Thanks a million Matty!

Following the theme of this post, these are 3 incredible young men that you definitely want to meet!

So, to go back to the question of why I was miffed that I couldn't watch the game, it's because I share a kindred spirit with so many involved that, other than Dagg and JayMo, haven't hoisted the championship trophy with, but that has not tarnished the experience in any way, shape or form. 

Blessed with a HUGE win, folks, I truly am blessed.
Congratulations to the entire team for another outstanding season!
Oh, another medal!
Too much awesomeness!

200th Blog post

I thoroughly enjoy writing these posts! 

WAAAAAY back in September of 2019 I had the crazy notion to write a Blog about my final semester in education, but somehow along that path, it morphed into a zany collection of thoughts, opinions, advice and wonderment, finally landing right here, right now, 200 posts later. Some may recall reading that I chose to self-publish the first 100 into a book, so it makes perfect sense ... at least to me ... to publish the second 100 into volume 2, and to cap off that stream of verbal diarrhea, here's a smattering of things that have happened recently that stirred an emotional reaction in me, in no particular order.

Joining the Dark Side

My facebook friend Kurt commented on a recent photo I shared of me in my brand-spanking-new basketball referee's outfit that I had crossed over to the Dark Side, an obvious play on the plight of young Anakin Skywalker of Star Wars fame. Kurt and I kindled our friendship while volunteering for Basketball Ontario in their Elite Development Program. We have since crossed paths in club basketball and shared a few fond memories of clashes past, so it will prove quite interesting if in the sometime future I get assigned to officiate one of his games. 

What many reading this Blog may not know is that I did a boatload of basketball refereeing many moons ago when my focus of choice was the hardcourt before straying sideways for the greener pitches of rugby. As a member of BDABR (Barrie and District Approved Basketball Referees), I earned my way up to the OCAA level doing a few Georgian College games before ultimately hanging up the official's whistle in 2007 when I was hired as Head Coach for Georgian. Returning to refereeing will serve an interesting journey, part because of my age, part because of "getting back in the saddle", and part because the rules have changed from NCAA to FIBA.

My first game started out with a little awkwardness, but the mojo quickly returned, and despite some errors in mechanics, I would say that it was a quantifiable success. It was a U13 girls club game and the energy was palpable as these Uber athletic young women pressured the heck out of each other for the most of the game, leading to a wide variety bumbles, stumbles, rumbles and jumbles. It wouldn't be club if one of the coaches didn't attempt to manipulate yours truly with loud inquiries about rules infractions he viewed differently than I, but I am proud to report that we arrived at a common understanding 1/3 of the way into the game, with the appropriate focus settling on the girls and their play as the game progressed. The feedback from my partner, an experienced veteran, was mostly positive with a short list of work-ons that I was most appreciate to receive. 

Tales from the war chest

It's no surprise that life in education continues to provide a number of humorous eyebrow-raising moments, and when I was recently supplying for a friend in her Gr 9 girl's HPE class, the proverbial table was set for a memory maker. As the girls trickled out of the change room, they were greeted by my wrinkled, masked face as I gathered them round to explain that their teacher was absent but had left a comprehensive plan for them. My query about numbers was met with a shrug that there were 3 left in the change room still so I asked one of them to attempt to speed them up. I should have guessed that this had potential for generating a story when she returned with a awkward look, a sheepish shrug, and a, "They said there's an issue."

Being old and retired, I took matters into my own hands, marched to the change room door, cracked it a bit and called out in my best teacher voice, "Ladies, could we please get a move on so I can get the class going?" The response was something that 30+ years of education had not prepared me for. "We can't. My tampon's stuck." Now, a sensible person would have left it at that, but you can probably guess that wasn't going to happen here, and I immediately regretted it when I replied, "Does it take 3 of you to deal with it?" Not to be out done, the retort was a prompt, "They're helping me." Too much information, I thought, so I inquired, "Do you need me to call someone?" A different voice now, "Give us 5 minutes?"

I got the rest organized and active, and eventually the trio emerged with a school girl flourish of giggling, the class playing out like I would have hoped. When I contacted my friend with an explanation of the encounter, simply as an FYI should the story be addressed upon her return, she confided in me that the situation was the latest in schemes that HPE-avoiders were using designed to unarm any well-meaning teacher. Regardless of that, it certainly made for a humorous tale when shared with the rest of the HPE'ers in the office later that day.

A steep learning curve

I'm pretty sure that I've mentioned it previously, but Joyce and I decided unanimously if we were moving to a new community, we would rent for a year, rather than buy, so we could get a feel for both the change in location and the downsizing to the condo life. I am happy to report that we both quite enjoy the community that is Guelph with it's plethora of active-lifestyle amenities, and other than the omni-present traffic noise of living on a busy road, the condo life has been an overwhelming success. Getting out and about the city on walks, we've had plenty of opportunity to discuss the situation at length, fostering a short but important list of Must-Haves for the purchase of our own condo. 

We are quickly learning, since we've only ever purchased one home, the one we sold in the spring, that finding the "perfect" replacement will test both our resolve and patience as the search has proved to be an arduous process. Armed with a list of parameters to filter the choices, not the least of which is cost in today's crazy real estate market, we have spent a goodly amount of time online and even ventured out to take a look at a few listings. I'm not sure just how committed we are yet since we've signed a year-long lease and it isn't due until next spring. We aren't above looking into breaking the lease should we find something that tickles our fancy, but we're not in any sort of rush, and the places we've looked into definitely do not check all of the boxes. The good news is that we are narrowing down the search parameters; the bad news is those same parameters significantly narrow the choices. 

Although the unknown is anxiety provoking, we are absolutely pleased with our rental for now, aside from the aforementioned noise of the road off our balcony, but at least the level is reduced by the dropping temperature's requirement to keep the windows closed. 

Celebrations with cake

This is a busy week, at least when it comes to celebrating life events! I share a birthday with my mother-in-law and her brother so there's an increased level of excitement, not the least of which is being able to blow out the candles for a 92-year and 96-year old! It makes turning 58 seem sort of insignificant but I am sure the day's treats will help smooth that over nicely. Like so many families, the question surrounding dinner and cake choices bring a small twinge of panic as one mentally sifts through all of life's most enjoyable moments, searching for an appropriate choice to duplicate. Even at my wrinkliest, it still causes a small spike in my heart rate. I will report that while the dinner choice is yet to be determined, the "cake" choice has solidified. I put "cake" in italics because my choice is more of a bread ... A cinnamony, sweet treat Joyce has made for me in the past that we curiously call Monkey Bread. I really don't know where the moniker came from but it is way up there in my list of favourite treats! Picture small balls of bread rolled in cinnamon sugar baked in a Bundt pan. Oooey and Gooey only partially fit the bill!

To cap off the birthday week I'll be spending some time with my brothers. With all of us in our 50's now, our lives have become crazy busy, and with my mom's sale of our childhood home and it's copious amount of space, we don't get together as much as we used to. The pandemic didn't help either. Last spring I reached out to them with an invite to rehash, rekindle, and reminisce while we share a pint or two. I am thrilled that we have found a day that fits everyone's schedule to have the 2nd annual. As I've written previously, we are all quite different, but for us it means that sharing time is an interesting affair.

Bdeep, Bdeeep, Bdeep ... That's all Folks!

The Good, the bad, and the Ugly v2.0

Once before, I used Clint Eastwood's iconic Spaghetti Western, "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" as a theme for a post, so I guess it's appropriate to label this as v2.0 or the sequel. As I write this, the dusty recollection of the theme song bubbles up from my Hippocampus, it's memorable shrill whistle and waa waa immediately taking me back to my youth. The entire thing surrounds a mostly wonderful road trip to Kingston recently, and while the overall grade was a stellar 98%, that nagging 2% still takes a wee bit of the shine off thanks largely to the frustrations created by the folks in the Big Smoke.

This past winter, I was approached by an old Queen's team mate to consider becoming an Era Captain to assist the new head coach, Steve Snyder, in establishing a more significant connection between football alumni and the present program. The idea was to be the funnel that information would stream through from coach Snyder to what would hopefully be a wider audience about initiatives, programs and events with the goal to bring the past closer to the future, allowing his 2021 players to enjoy the benefits that alumni could bring. At the same time, coach Snyder was spearheading the organization of the 2021 Queen's Football Hall of Fame dinner after a Covid induced delay from it's scheduled 2020 timeline, and I was honoured to be invited to become a part of the selection committee.

Following the theme, this would be considered GOOD!

A consequence of this enhanced commitment to my alma mater, I immediately felt a strong connection to coach Snyder's dreams for my beloved Gaels, making the urge to take in the live action almost unescapable. After a failed attempt for the Gaels visit to U of T's Varsity stadium, I convinced Joyce that a road trip to Kingston was needed, and after tickets were purchased, I was happier that fat kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

This would also be considered GOOD!

As the departure loomed, my mood soured slightly as the weather forecast signalled the building of an ark, with predictions of 100% chance of 25-40 mm of rain at game time. For the record, I dearly LOVE my Gaels, but that was a bit dour, even for me. Holding off to make the final decision until 9:00 am on the day of the game, the subtle shifts in the forecast begged for a YES, and we eagerly set off, back to our old digs. For those that don't know, or may have forgotten, Joyce and I met in Kingston while working together at the then named Firehall Restaurant, and once the spark of romance was ignited, lived together for a few years in our beloved limestone city. Thankfully, as the relatively painless drive ticked off the km's, the horizon seemed to be lightening, and with it, our fears of getting drenched. 

Again, this is GOOD!

Just passing Napanee on the 401, the heavens opened and a biblically proportioned deluge ensued, and a scan of the horizon showed dark and angry for as far as our eyes could see. Like troopers, we steeled ourselves to the possibility with a nervous giggle and a shrug, silently offering prayers for a break in the inevitable. Pulling off the highway and heading south toward the stadium, we were delighted to see some hopeful streaks of sunshine peeking through the canopy. Since we were an hour early and bathroom facilities were paramount with our morning coffees fully transitioned through our systems, we chose to brave a quick bite at a local Harvey's, something very out of character for us! We do not choose Fast Food very often, and it is almost never burgers and fries, but hunger and bladder pressure won out, so a couple of original combos please and thank you!

This would fall under BAD!

Bladders vacated, belly rumbles silenced, we arrived at Richardson Stadium, parked the RAV, and were basked in several golden beams of sunlight as the clouds dissipated in a Moses-inspired parting around that portion of the city. After the vaccine protocols, the ticket checking and finding our seats, I was grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the prospect of the game proceeding in favourable weather. The new Richardson in no, way, shape, or form resembled the old Richardson of my memory! If you haven't seen it live, you're missing out. This is a state-of-the-art facility that must be the envy of many universities in the OUA, and since my former team mates and I had assisted with the fund raising for it, I felt a little pang of pride at how it turned out. The fortunate dissipation of the clouds continued throughout the game, at times bathing the stadium in brilliant sunshine, making the iconic yellow jerseys pop with colour. 

Just to be clear, this would all be GOOD!

The game turned out to be a fan-friendly affair when, after a slow 1st quarter, my Gaels exploded on route to a 45-0 rout of a floundering Carleton, but the nature of the scoring was easily one of the queerest affairs I have ever been witnessed. The 45 points included 4 safeties (2 points each), 3 field goals (3 points each), and some spectacular defensive execution leaving Carleton shooting blanks all game. As the clocked inevitably counted down, I yearned for the defence to be rewarded for their Heculanean efforts by notching their own score, and as LB #54 provided their 4th interception and lumbered toward the end zone, I raised out of my seat in anticipation. Unfortunately, the young man couldn't get the piano off his back and was caught on the 3 yard line, leading to one of the easiest TD's that star running back Rasheed Tucker would ever be gifted. In the end, while elated with the outcome, both Joyce and I felt for the Carleton player's obvious frustrations over their lack of execution.

Most definitely GOOD, but the lack of bums in seats despite Homecoming Weekend was BAD.

A fringe benefit of a career in education is the networking that takes place with people from all corners of the province, so once the roadie plans were firm, I reached out to an old friend with an offer to commiserate after the game. I was thrilled when the reply was YES, and we set off for the Loyal Oarsman Pub to meet Dale Huddleston, the unofficial mayor of Kingston, to reconnect, reminisce, and laugh our way through the evening. Dale is salt of the earth, knows a million people, is one of the kindest / compassionate / friendliest people I know, and is just plain fun to share a drink + meal with. Between smiles, belly laughs, and stories, we enjoyed some pretty tasty pub-style offerings, and were delighted to be joined by Dale's son, Jeff, a Kingston police officer, who shared his dealings with the hoard of homecoming revellers that were making a mess of the Queen's student ghetto ... again.

Despite the frustrations surrounding the students, the night was most definitely GOOD!

As with all great events, the end was inevitable, so following a restful night at a local hotel, we grabbed a Tim's for a memory-prodding stroll around the Kingston downtown and Queen's campus. We were amazed at how much still remained, stalwarts of our years from over 30 years ago, and were in awe of the incredible limestone architecture throughout, sharing dozens of stories that were percolating up from deep inside our brains. We visited old workplaces, old halls of study, old neighbourhoods, and thoroughly enjoyed a relatively tepid October morning. Of course, the talks certainly included the potential of a return to the Limestone City in our futures, but it's all just air, at least at this point. It's not a NO, more like a NOT YET.

Since this is easily GOOD ... Where's the UGLY?

The drive home was definitely not on par with the weekend's brilliance! Since we decided that retirement afforded us the opportunity to brave the 401 all the way back to Guelph by eschewing the lure of the costly 418/407, we shrugged off the first traffic jam just outside of Oshawa that, once cleared, looked to be the only issue of the trip. Unfortunately, we should have known better and the 2 hour stop-n-go across the Big Smoke was the consequence. Easily the most frustrating thing that almost all can empathize with was the fact that when we finally arrived at the source of the congestion, it was nothing more that a cruiser with flashing lights signalling a single lane merge. Toronto drivers are curious, that's for sure! After finally relenting to our frustrations, we took the senile route home for the final 30 km, and arriving at the condo, were dismayed that the normal 3.5 hour trip had taken 5.5 hours all in. 

Absolutely and frustratingly UGLY!

Ah well, as I said, 98% great, and who wouldn't take a 98%?

Top 10 reasons for being Thankful

Thanksgiving is a time when most Canadians stop rushing about taking care of their self-imposed list of To Do's and take stock of the important stuff that makes life worth waking up for each morning. I don't need to tell you that it's usually a time for recognizing loved ones, feasting on good foods, and enjoying the relationships that we often take for granted in our daily hubbub. 

Following the lead of David Letterman, here's the top 10 reasons I'm thankful these days:

#10 - I'm thankful for having a lifetime of great memories
I may not have claimed international fame or amassed incredible fortune, but I have gathered a lifetime of amazing memories, the likes of which I wouldn't trade for the world. Don't get me wrong, there are things I wish could have been subtilely different, but I can confidently state that each of those happenings were responsible for creating the person I am today. One of greatest challenges of downsizing was eliminating things that proudly held significance for a time in my life, and I have Rubbermaid containers filled with mementoes I can't part with ... yet. I am richer than any king, my golden moments forging a life I am immeasurably proud of. My coffers are not so full, however, that there's no room for what the future might hold because I'm not ready for life to be behind me yet.

#9 - I'm thankful for having the courage to move
When I floated the "What about moving" balloon first with Joyce, then with my family, the thought was met with some pregnant pauses, some raised eyebrows, some Hmmm's and Huuuh's, and nibbled lower lips. The question asked most often was WHY? and was almost always followed by WHERE? WHEN? and even ARE YOU CRAZY? God bless her, my mother added a maternal warning about how difficult it was to make new friends at our age. For a large proportion of my living years, I have been headquartered in Barrie and I felt strongly that with retirement, I now had the flexibility to give something else an honest try since a regular commute to some workplace was no longer an issue. Was it anxiety provoking? Sure, but at the same time it was exhilarating. 

#8 - I'm thankful for having found some good friends ... and the list keeps changing

One fo the fringe benefits of the life I've chosen to lead is the longterm shared experiences that cause a tendency toward affiliation with a wide variety people that I may not have had a chance to build a relationship with in other circumstances. Building on the saying, "It takes a village to raise a child", there are a wide assortment of personalities, competencies, tendencies, and perspectives presented in one's life, yet the goal is always the contentment of connection that creates a like-mindedness that fosters two way communication. When that communication unveils commonalities, the building of relationship bridges begins and, when things are optimal, those bridges result in acquaintances developing into friendships. The more open I allow myself to be with those of similar personalities, the more of those friendships develop. Of course, this is really put to the test considering #9, with those friendships now spread apart in distance, lowering the frequency of communication, but if the bonds are strong they can endure those obstacles. I am rich beyond measure with the people in my life I can confidently call my friends from my Queen's team/class mates, to my teaching colleagues, to my coaching partners, to the athletes/students I've interacted with.

#7 - I'm thankful for having the Retired Life
I've posted a handful of other writings about retirement so I won't rehash them here. Do I feel blessed to have wisely chosen a career path that allows for a satisfying and comfortable retirement? Of course. Do I feel that I have someway done something underhanded or quasi-slimy because the education pension is so awesome? Not on your life! I feel very strongly that I went above and beyond the job description for the kids whose care I was charged with, often extending the work day well past the scheduled end despite the understanding that there was zero chance of renumeration for the effort, all with the desire to provide the most enriched and complete opportunity for their development. I am 100% content with my 30 years and I will embrace the opportunity to enjoy shifting my focus from external to internal during my twilight years.

#6 - I'm thankful for having good health
As regular readers of this Blog will recall, I've staved a significant portion of my life battling with body composition, the result of flaws in my diet coupled with fluctuations in activity levels. Having occupied both sides of the mystic 300 lb mark, unfortunately multiple times, I know deep down that I have likely damaged my chances of living into my 90's, despite my family genetic benevolence. My paternal great grandparents lived well into their 80's, and their offspring, my grandparents, likewise with my Grammy living until 101. My maternal great grandparents lived into their 70's, and their children, my Nana and Papa, living into their 90's. My mother has already claimed the Octogenarian title and shows no sign of stopping. Were it not for the Cursed Big C, my father would likely have done the same. I firmly believe now that had I embraced the Bike Life at an earlier stage, I may have altered my prognosis somewhat, but no one can undo the past, so this is my reality. What I can say with confidence is that I feel like I've currently equalled my best levels of fitness, I'm doing a better job with portion control, I'm embracing healthier alternatives in my daily sustenance, and I'll take life day by day living in the moment. 

#5 - I'm thankful for having time for me

As I've alluded to, I spent a goodly portion of my adult years giving to others, and while I begrudge ZERO of those days, I am beyond thrilled with being able to now live a life of my choosing. I have found that I am rising earlier than I ever have, eager to get at the minutes of the day, thrilled with the prospect of filling those minutes with things that leave me fulfilled, happy, content and satisfied. As a consequence of some of the previous items in this list, much of my day is spent in the company of my beloved wife Joyce and we both feel our marriage is the strongest it's ever been. Case in point, we recently decided to change our perspective, hopped in the RAV, drove to Wasaga Beach and treated ourselves to a heavenly walk of the entire beach from south to north and back, the entire time sharing thoughts about our past, present and future. The day was capped with a trip to Angus to check in on the new Mr and Mrs Cove and their fur-baby Remi. During the drive home to Guelph, I was smiling at how glorious it all felt. 

#4 - I'm thankful for having 3 awesome brothers

I've written previously about what I think when it comes to by brothers Dave, Rob, and Mike. None of that has changed! The longer that I spend on this planet, I see the dynamics of other families and I am gifted with the understanding that my own is pretty gosh darned good. Again, I have explained previously how very different the 4 of us are, and some might erroneously think that could lead to division. Like any deep relationship, we are comfortable in each other's differences and the impacts that has on the minutes we have to share at this point in our lives. Could we make an effort to get together face to face more often then we do? Absolutely! Does that leave me wanting? Nope! Our uniqueness has created very different lives, each filled with time-siphons that pull in opposing directions, but don't for a minute think that it diminishes our bond. One of the things we've begun to do is to gather together, just us, to share some minutes in the present and continue to reassure that we have each other's back, no matter what. This GD pandemic has thrown a monkey wrench in the gears but we'll be reinstating that tradition in the very near future.

#3 - I'm thankful for having parents at almost 60 years old
Both Joyce and I come from good stock! As I said earlier, my mother is an Octogenarian, but Joyce's mom has claimed the title of Nonagenarian and shows serious signs of striving for the magic Centurion title. Both still live on their own, running their homes without medical or profession assistance, minds still sharp as a knife, with only the normal physical issues of aging presenting obstacles. Having the time to visit, converse, assist with chores, and enjoy each other's company is one of the many fringe benefits of retirement, but don't for a second think that we're not grateful for the gift bequeathed us. To be in the shadow of our 60's and to have parents in such good state? It's a blessing that we embrace tightly. It will all inevitably change so we are staying present, immensely enjoying the minutes we get in the right here and now.

#2 - I'm thankful for having 2 incredible children

Like all biological entities, the urge to procreate and continue the genetic line is deeply seeded in our DNA, but unlike so many living things on this planet, we humans make a much deeper commitment to the development of our offspring. Naysayers will bleat about this circumstance or that contradiction, but if you look at the 8 or so billion people on this planet, a significant proportion of them operate under that mindset. To raise children is one of life's greatest pleasures ... and challenges ... but when you can sit back and affirm that your now adult-aged kids are self-sufficient, competent, well-rounded, loving, caring, and just flat-out great people? You bask in the glow of a tremendous success! Acknowledging all bias, our kids are amazing people and we couldn't be prouder! The only thing missing from our family at this point is grandchildren ... No pressure M+K ... but I am confident that time will take care of that.

Annnnd 

#1 - I'm thankful for having found my soul mate

Let's set the record straight ... I've already won the Life Lottery. I have discovered the Ying to my Yang; the PB to my Jelly; the Cheese to my Macaroni; the Ping to my Pong; the hitch in my giddy-up; the normal to my crazy. So many years ago, when Joyce uttered those immortal words confirming she felt the same as I did, I couldn't have dreamed for a better marriage, and as corny as it sounds, my love for her increases every year. I can't thank her enough for so selflessly agreeing to be okay with all of my peculiarities, supporting my passions, and agreeing with my hair-brained choices! She is one of the most giving, loving, caring, genuine people I have ever met, and the glow she creates deep in my soul each time she sends me that googly-eyed look is the stuff that life is made of! In life's quiet moments, these days mounted atop the saddle of my bike out on some lonely road with the sun shining brightly, I praise the Lord for the good fortune graced upon me. 

To coin one of my favourites, "Me and Joyce ... we're like peas 'n carrots!"

And I am MOST ASSUREDLY thankful!