Supplying? Virtually? Me?

I had an odd start to the day recently. It was early ... well, retirement early, acknowledging that it's all relative ... enough in the morning that steam was still rising from my beloved cuppa Joe, and a call came through from an ex-colleague. We're friends, but more along professional lines, making it curious that the call was coming through so early. I answered it more out of curiousity than anything else. The reason for the call elicited a minor level of anxiety because I was asked if I would consider supplying virtually next week for a young teacher who was very pregnant and not able to make it to the semester's end. 

If this time in educational history was anywhere near normal, the request for a week's supply work would have been quickly considered, weighing positives vs negatives, likely taking less than 30 seconds to make a decision. I really don't mind supplying in the classroom, partly because I still really enjoy teaching young people, but also partly because I still feel competent about what I have to offer. 

Unfortunately, we are not operating in a normal time and my mind immediately raced through the must-dos to be able to pull this off ...
Do I have the understanding of D2L?
Maybe.
Do I have the equipment to use?
Another maybe.
Do I have the patience and skill to handle 5 days of a class in a virtual setting?
Hmmmm.
Do I really wish to go down that road?
Nope!

I don't wish to leave you hanging. I contemplated all of those questions and politely declined. A small part of me feels guilty for leaving my friend in a pickle, but the larger portion feels justified because, being a closet perfectionist, bumbling and stumbling through the task was not fair to the students. Of course, the elephant in the room was the recent rise in Covid-19 numbers and the news of the variant outbreak at Roberta Place in the city's south end,

After the call ended with some pleasantries and well wishes, I found myself dwelling on the state of education right now, with the stress of the pandemic, spiced with my continuing perceived lack of leadership and compassion from the Ford government, topped off with anxiety born out of learning how to do something that was so comfortably done in a totally different way. The pangs of empathy for my friends still toiling in the trenches were biting, causing a gnawing growl way deep down inside. I am totally on side with having to adapt to the craziness caused by Covid-19, and support the decision to make attempts to continue educating the province's future despite all of the changes to the norm, but that doesn't make the stress any easier to accept. I'll readily admit that teachers, on the whole, while adapting to the changes in their regularly superhuman manner, are voicing their displeasure with the powers that be through a variety of Social Media platforms, some being quite blunt in the criticism.

Unfortunately, the latest scuttlebutt from the Minister Stephen Lecce came as a wishy washy decision to allow some areas to return to in-person teaching while keeping other areas in the virtual world. The teacher's federations were quick to condemn the lack of clear expectations and deadlines attached to the wishy washy decision, then quickly turned on the attack when proof of their mismanagement was confirmed by a Toronto Star expose. If I were still in the trenches, I know that I echo the concerns made by some many friends about the uncertainty and its effect on planning. What most people who have never taught don't appreciate is the long-range organization that is paramount to ensuring quality education. Being left to blow in whatever breeze #fordnation chooses to blow does not allow for long term planning. Combine that with the fact that many in the profession have 20+ years in the classroom and have only recently accepted the move away from filing cabinets of lovingly created units with years of experience to Gigabytes of assignments on an external hard drive or some cloud application necessary for on-line teaching. Yes, it's part of the job to stay current, but the loudest complaint is the lack of in-service training on HOW to use these new virtual platforms, and despite most having worked hard to do so, are learning to swim by being thrown into the river. The worst of it boils down to Ontario's education worker's voiced concerns about the cyber infrastructure's tendency toward being unstable. 

Stressful barely explains the situation.

One of the most significant issues with virtual teaching has only recently come to light for me. As regular readers of this Blog will know, I participate in a weekly Zoom call with former BCC colleagues, and that experience has unveiled some conversational obstacles that would plague teachers each and every day. For one, most people will accept that much of our conversational understanding of others is thanks to the non-verbal cues and clues humans employ to accompany their words. While Zoom (or Meet or Skype or Teams) offers us full faces to see, with all of it's facial twerks and jerks, it pales in the level of understanding achieved when body posture and gestures are combined with the facial gymnastics. For another, these various platforms throttle the volume of others to allow for clearer broadcasting of the present speaker, resulting in stilted conversations that are less than ideal for cognition. One of the least talked about issues is a tremendously steep learning curve surrounding all of the virtual tools in place for the overwhelming majority of classroom workers, and the lack of advanced notice for implementation, leading to my previously indicated bumbling and stumbling. You can't "fake it" in a room (in person or virtual) of teens because they'll sniff out the blood faster than a hungry Great White Shark.

Fully acknowledging that I have very little virtual teaching experience, I am of the opinion that instructors feel more like actors and less like educators. There's a huge disconnect when teaching is not done face to face, the largest portion being the severely reduced instant feedback of the audience. Teaching is not acting, never was, never will be, but being the sole member of the cast, crew, director, producing, and editing team has got to take 4 or 5 times the energy, on top of the extra 60 to 90 minutes it would take to plan for multiple hours of "performing" each day. 

I'm never going to convince the public who cannot find it in their hearts to appreciate the Herculanean efforts teachers give that a change in attitude is required. If Joe Public relishes teacher bashing already, asking for sympathy about virtual classrooms is a far reaching request. If, however, there are those that can appreciate the seemingly thankless task educators willingly accept, then perhaps these few tidbits of the information has germinated new understanding. 

That's really my goal.

To all my fellow educators, please know that you will always have my utmost respect, admiration, thanks, and appreciation for the role you sacrifice so much of your life to fill. You are grooming the future leaders of our society, our civilization, our planet ... I cannot, with all bias, think of a more noble pursuit.

Click here for a special message. And please accept my sincerest thanks.

PS: Found a pretty neat FB post by Teresa Thayer Snyder, retired superintendent of the Voorheesville district in upstate New York. In it, she completes her thoughts with, "Being a teacher is an essential connection between what is and what can be. Please, let what can be demonstrate that our children have so much to share about the world they live in and in helping them make sense of what, for all of us has been unimaginable." Her point is to accept the kiddies back into the classroom, whenever that happens, with open arms, love, and patience and not concerns over how much "they've fallen behind".

You need your bones!

As the graphic points out, you really need your bones, especially during these times of unprecedented stress and emotional uncertainty. Boiled down to their essence, these three bones are the stuff that life is made of.

This quote is often attributed to singer and songwriter Reba McEntire, and while she is most responsible for its fame, it was first reportedly uttered by a Dr. Kavanagh during his talk on ‘Moral Anatomy’ as cited in a newspaper, the New Rochelle Pioneer, way back in 1908. More recently, its ideals were embraced by NZ All Blacks mental resilience coach Gilbert Enoka, as a part of his efforts to prepare the Kiwis for success on the international stage. Regardless of who says it, the concepts encapsulated in the words are veritable gold mine of advice for a satisfying life.

Every healthy, fulfilling life needs a Wishbone. No matter how good or bad the present situation, the ability to dream, to visualize, to hope is the most human of skills. Our wishbones provide us with personal strength to face the trials and tribulations of life and keep moving forward. Psychologist and published author Dr. Ellen Albertson states, "Wishes are powerful because they connect you with your ideas and desires. They get you out of your analytical yes, but head and into a creative, curious, childlike space that liberates rather than blocks your energy. This open space is where magic and miracles can happen." Nothing worthy ever spontaneously appeared. It started as a dream or thought, born of a desire to change, progress, or improve upon the present. Once thought to be completely anecdotal, the power of a wish has been the foundation of medical study. In 2015, Make-A-Wish Israel conducted a study to measure how wish-granting experiences influence medical outcomes of children with critical illnesses. The results revealed wishes not only increased hope, they also improved the children's physical and emotional health. The wishes made the impossible, possible — helping children replace fear with confidence, sadness with joy and anxiety with hope.

“You’re wishin’ too much, baby. You gotta stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone oughtta be.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, "Eat, Pray, Love"

Of course, anyone can dream. The difference between a dream and reality boils down to the strength of a person's Backbone. or the development of resilience and persistence. Although the idea here refers to qualities integral to progression and the foundation upon which we build our dreams, the physical backbone is the reason that we humans look and act the way we do, an integral component of our bipedal, upright mobility while simultaneously protecting the nerves that fire the muscles required for that mobility. Be it real or imagined, the backbone provides the stability against which all action is anchored, a symbol of character, an unwillingness to be swayed or taken for granted, a firm commitment to our decisions and desires. 

“I don't trust anyone who doesn't laugh.”
― Maya Angelou

There's a saying that people will forget what you say but they'll never forget how you made them feel. In its truest essence, that's what a Funny bone is; the human ability to elicit an emotional release. It's the ability to laugh, both at ourselves and situations. Chasing dreams can be serious business but, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" We need to not take life too seriously or be too self-absorbed. The Canadian Counselling and Psychotherapy Association attests, "Laughter is the purest form of communication. It expresses our real desires and intent. Through laughter we are capable of being real, genuine, and authentically ourselves. Dr. Robert Provine of University of Maryland, suggests that laughter is perhaps the earliest form of language known unto humankind. Dr. Provine has suggested that laughter predated the spoken language. Laughter’s ignition begins at the earliest stages of life." Scientists have been connecting the dots when it comes to real, fact-based opinions about the value of laughter and its ability to affect the tissue that forms the inner lining of blood vessels, the endothelium, to dilate or expand in order to increase blood flow. (Science Daily, 2011) Laughter reduces the level of stress hormones like cortisol, epinephrine (adrenaline), dopamine and growth hormone. It also increases the level of health-enhancing hormones like endorphins, and neurotransmitters. Laughter increases the number of antibody-producing cells and enhances the effectiveness of T cells. All this means a stronger immune system, as well as fewer physical effects of stress. (Scott, 2011)

Embrace your bones ... without them, you're simply a huge bag of goo! HaHa!

We need a crystal ball!

I wanted to take a brief moment to give a small-town, northern shout out to Coach Nick Saban for leading the charge for Alabama's 6th NCAA Men's Football Championship recently, and Saban's 7th overall as head coach after previously winning one with LSU. As a coach, I admire his ability to hitch a team of wild stallions to the same cart, year after year, but I completely respect the message he delivered in the post-game interview where he deflected personal accolades with humility. His message couldn't have been more applicable to today's issues, and paraphrasing, his message was that he simply wanted to enjoy himself and winning is a by-product of that desire. Listen, I won't fudge my words, Saban LOVES winning, and that makes the tireless efforts he extends enjoyable, but he gets paid buckets of money for his success.

In the aftermath of the championship game, there were boatloads of opinions surrounding the game about all manner of topics, from "experts" to armchair quarterbacks alike. 

What was missing from that seemingly never-ending list was a question about what the long-term effects of Covid-19 exposure and the future of what I would guess amounts to thousands of athletes who represented their university or college during this pandemic. I will admit that this particular vein was posed by a friend and former Central colleague, Ed Leach, when it was discussed that some university football programs had actually encouraged their players to get infected in the preseason so that the rest of the season would not be infected. 

Unbelievable!

Even though this novel coronavirus is relatively new to the virology scene, scientists have been quick to amass a list of potentially harmful long-term effects ... see the graphic at the right. Naysayers of the danger surrounding Covid-19 infection will trumpet that a high percentage of infections manifest in a relatively minor experience, and we shouldn't be as worried about the pandemic as science is warning us to be. Any one who has paid attention to the wide swath of media coverage surrounding the pandemic understands that the term "Long Hauler" and its application to Covid-19. It's the unknown nature of these lingering Covid-19 effects that pushes me to avoid it at all costs. 

Reporter Peter Myerberg, USA Today, reported on Sept 3rd, 2020, that Penn State's director of athletic medicine, Wayne Sebastianelli, is quoted, "Cases of myocarditis, an inflammation of the heart muscle, appear to be prevalent among Big Ten athletes ... impacting roughly one-third of all athletes who have tested positive for the coronavirus." ARTICLE From where I stand, that's a lot of athletes being significantly affected! Myerberg continues later in his article with more from Sebastianelli, "We don’t know how long that’s going to last. What we have seen is when people have been studied with cardiac MRI scans — symptomatic and asymptomatic COVID infections — is a level of inflammation in cardiac muscle that just is alarming.”
Important Note: Sebastianelli's numbers were adjusted later ARTICLE from 30% to 15%, fuelling the arguments about ever changing discoveries about the virus, but the alarm bells should still be ringing.

On Dec 9th, 2020, the American Lung Association published an article documenting the plight of 17-year-old Carson, a high school baseball player, and his Covid-19 journey. ARTICLE According to the post, "Carson was officially diagnosed with viral myocarditis on November 16, over four months after “recovering” from COVID-19. There is no treatment aside from time and rest. The cardiologist helped him find his max heart rate and advised him not to go over 60% of that max rate for the next three months. He explained that pushing an inflamed heart could result in dangerous arrhythmias and would delay healing." Obviously, this young man's long term health is far more important than a college baseball career, but that's an awfully large monkey wrench that just got thrown into the gears, with life-changing potential effects! 

In his report on the effects of Covid-19 on athlete's bodies, Sports Illustrated's Brian Burnsed wrote in April 2020, "Beyond potential cardiovascular issues, athletes’ muscles and ligaments will need adequate time to recalibrate to their sports’ demands." ARTICLE Burnsed's warning surrounds the potentially damning effects of either a layoff of training thanks to lockdown measures, or a diminishing effect of sub-maximal training on musculature and supporting tissue, both leading to safety concerns if, and when, athletes return to competition. There's a podcast of an interview Burnsed participated in the SI post if you wish to check it out ... I listened to "The long road to full speed" and "A 2nd chance for NCAA athletes".

What all of this amounts to is a Pacific Ocean sized body of unchartered water, with all the requisite dangers that scenario might present. On my weekly Zoom call with fellow BCC retirees, we discussed this idea for a short time. There was agreement that this very issue is a smouldering volcano whose eruption could spell significant uproar in terms of an athlete vs university lawsuit or a class action suit vs the NCAA itself. Interestingly, the question was posed, "Are fans to blame for this?" because their demand for spectacles in this stay-at-home pandemic has increased significantly. Our small panel was unanimous in splitting the answer into 3 threads;
Under 18 years - Absolutely no sports, no way, no how!
Between 18-24 years - A personal choice since the athletes are now legally seen as adults.
24+ years - Likely only professionals still playing. Their resources to maintain a safe bubble is huge!

As it would be in better times, there will always be athletes (and their families) whose focus on attaining professional status in their chosen activity overrides their sense of caution, the lure of a "Pay Day" worth the significant risks. Covid-19 makes decisions surrounding these situations much more murky and dangerous, since the "long haul" effects have the potential to significantly alter a person's life, arguably even destroy it. My reservations are seeded in the notion that once a certain level is attained, like NCAA scholarship athletes or CHL hockey players for example, the locus of the decisions shifts to external from the family unit, and the almighty dollar weighs heavily in process.

For what it's worth, I am very much of the opinion that until science is able to (a) confirm the breadth and length of these "long haul" effects and (b) provide justification for why only some are inflicted with them, the risk is far too high to be balanced against the short-term benefits of sports participation. From what I can see, sitting in my trusty recliner safe inside my little Canadian castle, Canadians have finally accepted that all group activities for young people (elementary, secondary and post-secondary) should be ceased, leaving only the professional and semi-professional ranks to decide their own fates, and they can only make this decision thanks to the massive TV contracts already in place.

In the end, the overwhelming majority of us are not encumbered with these issues. 

However, we collectively have a responsibility to do our part in the battle against this virus. To all that are not doing their very best to help with the spread, if you aren't worried for yourself, what about your children? 

It's pretty simple folks.
Wear a mask when there's potential for infection,
Watch how close you are to others, especially in colder weather,
Wash your hands properly and often.

Oh, and stay home.

Call me Joe Cool!

If you're of my particular generation, you grew up enjoying Peanuts cartoons, the brainchild of Charles Schultz. My testosterone-soaked, adolescent brain latched onto a series of strips surrounding Snoopy adopting the persona of Joe Cool, leather jacket and sunglass to boot,  with his chosen hangout by the school water fountain. I still have vivid recall of those strips ... Wow, I'm old!

My personal opinion of what's cool, however, has changed over time, especially in the past 10-15 years ... hence the graphic. During the course of investigating the crap-show that occurred on Washington's Capital Hill on Jan 6th, I stumbled across the graphic, and it struck a chord with me. it is my own candid observation that the possession and utilization of good manners is an endangered skillset rampant in society. And it appears to me that it's getting worse.

Let me make one thing abundantly clear, I am not a fan of Mr Trump. Those who have hitched their cart to him irritate me even more than he does because I firmly believe he has a mental condition that makes him behave like the complete Jackass he is, but his supporters, like the ones storming the Capitol, CHOOSE to act the way they do. Their complete and utter lack of decency, morals, and values on full displayed during the occupation give me great pause about the future.

I have huge respect for the parenting effort my mom and dad put in with my four brothers and I because all four of us, while vastly different in our likes and dislikes, are all pretty gosh-darned cool, at least by the graphic's standards. Joyce and I have endeavoured to pass those habits on to our own children, and I'll proudly attest that we have been quite successful. As I review the points, it becomes quickly apparent that these are habits ... because they are definitely developed through practice ... that are wanting in the general public, at least IMHO. 

Nary a day goes by that I don't make a comment to Joyce about someone we encounter, or identify a situation we observe, where one or more of these habits is lacking.

In these times, I only occasionally venture out of the house, mostly to restock the cabinets or fridge, and once I've gathered what is on my list, I join the queue at the checkout. I am invariably greeted by a young person ... sometimes enthusiastically, sometimes not ... who usually executes the job with precision and speed. Even if I feel precision and speed were lacking, I always look them straight in the eye and comment, "Thanks very much for your help today." 9 times out of 10, the response is one of either suspicion or disbelief, like they're not sure if my motives are sincere. If I'm particularly impressed with their effort, I'll add in a compliment about something specific, perhaps their incredible recall of stock numbers when ringing in vegetables or such. It takes very little time or effort on my part and most assuredly checks off #1 on the list, albeit with a little flair, if I do say so myself.

From my rocking chair, I feel strongly that this steady decline in basic decency has spread exponentially of late. I can easily identify multiple transgressions of compassion or empathy, some minor but some major, that are symptoms of the unchecked spread. 

Here's a few personal examples, in no particular order of irritation:

1. You're driving along and decide that a right hand turn is in order. You signal and execute the job with precision, taking care to turn into the right hand lane, as outlined in Driver's Ed 101. The clown behind you goes 2 or 3 lanes wide and stands on the gas so he/she can gain a few seconds, usually looking your way with a scowl. Seriously? Uber high on my personal Pet Peeve list is when this happens on an on-ramp for the highway, except the clown behind pulls out immediately without getting up to speed with traffic, and cuts off your own merge.
2. You're grabbing supplies at the grocery of your choice, mask in place and social distancing appropriate for a pandemic. You're examining a particular item with the intent to buy the best choice from the selection on the shelf in front of you when some clown barges right into your personal bubble to grab an item then looks down their improperly masked nose at you with disdain as if to say, "Let's go Grandpa!"
3. You're going into the bank because, even in these times, you need to have a little bit of cash on hand. As you walk up to the doors, the reflection in front of you indicates a young woman coming up behind you. Being raised properly, you seize the handle and open the door, sidling sideways to allow her to enter first, with all sense of chivalry and deportment. She looks like at you she's smelling a ripe fart and grunts, "I'm perfectly capable of opening my own door!" It's everything you can do not to slam the dang door on her as she proceeds to take advantage of your generosity, despite her objection, but manners win out and you continue to hold the door anyway.
4. You and your significant other decide that the glorious sunshine and temperatures are too good to waste and you bundle up to get a vigorous winter walk in together. Despite the cool air, you enjoy communing with the outdoors until you are confronted with a large, sometimes steaming, pile of pet waste directly in the middle of the pathway. You know that whomever was walking their pet could not have missed the dirty deed, leaving callousness as the only possible explanation. On a related note, sometimes the steaming pile is dutifully bagged but them flung on to a lawn (hopefully not yours) or some unlikely perch ... I've seen them on top of mailboxes, stuck in trees, on the hoods of vehicles ... so incredibly LAZY and RUDE!
5. I've developed a night time routine where I lock the doors, double check that the truck is locked, shut the blinds, turn down the heat and make sure the leftovers are stowed away in the fridge. Yes, my OCD compels me to repeat this performance nightly, but it was also born out of the regular rounds of a roving band of human flotsam that canvass the entire neighbourhood on a nightly basis looking to score with an unlocked vehicle. The FB group we are apart of for our ward regularly reports occurrences of thefts, and despite submitting video proof to the local constabulary, continues unabated. Woe to anyone that mistakenly forgets to lock something up, down, or in.    

If you're able to associate with any of what I've written, I am sure that you have many, many more examples of what I'm pointing out. 

Is this a symptom of the disintegration of society? 

Of the collapse of decency? 

Of our decent into anarchy? 

I don't have a quality answer for you, but I do know that it causes me anguish to think that we're helpless to change it. 

I'll promise to keep doing what I can. 

Are you willing to help?

Maybe if we all try a little harder it will get better.

Something to think about.

Attitude determines Altitude!

Like many, I have fallen prey to more than my fair share of arguments, usually spurred by some topic that, at the time, I felt my opinion or knowledge was 100% correct. Oh, I've eaten more than my fair share of crow, but I can recall a number of occasions where I was right ... but so was the person I was having that animated discussion with. 

Age has taught me that it is indeed quite possible to both be right.

I don't know if it's the time of year, the isolation fatigue, the messiness of today's politics, or something yet unidentifiable, but I have found myself slipping into full curmudgeon every now and again, something a youthful version of me swore would never happen. When I recognize the transformation, a shake of the head and an internal re-evaluation of what truly matters is enough to lift me out of the hole I dug. With retirement, my need to feel right has become less consuming, allowing a welcomed complacency of to each his own, a consequence of a shift in my opinion of what is important toward more ethereal possessions like happiness, peace, and the quality of character in those I choose to surround myself with. You can't buy those on Amazon or at Walmart.

It is my view that we are increasingly bombarded from all sides with thoughts, images, and videos imploring us to chase bigger and better things, with the cleverly hidden message that pursuit of wealth and material gain is the ONLY course. 

Eschewing that mindset makes me atypical. 

Being truthful with myself, I would admit that I chose publicly funded education over business type pursuits those many years ago because I have always felt this way, the shrapnel of failed entrepreneurial attempts figuratively lying in piles at my feet. I embrace my values, never the lure of "keeping up with the Joneses" tugging at my soul. I'm confronted by symbols of this with each brisk walk around the neighbourhood, and my brow furls as I cast judgement on the ever-increasing size of residences springing up in my part of the world. This prompts internal queries of why a body would feel compelled to own something of such monolithic proportions. Case in point, Joyce and I have found our desires going in the other direction, embracing the idea of down-sizing our home and possessions in the pursuit of simplifying our lives, at least in our opinions.

Having said all of that, a simple shrug of my shoulders is the most common reaction these days. Just because I feel it's right for me doesn't mean it's right for everyone, and I'm perfectly content with that mindset. One of my favourite ideals ... and the desktop image on my trusty laptop ... espouses that Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it. The essence of this ideal is captured in the graphic at the beginning of this post ... it all boils down to perspective and how we choose to respond. I am right from where I stand, based on my experiences, but you are right for all the same reasons, and we should both be content to accept those differences as valid. You definitely don't need to argue, attack, harass or something worse, just to prove you're correct ... Are you listening Mr Trump?

Much like the Billy Jack folk song "One Tin Soldier", the value of my treasure is severely slanted to my personal ideals rather than some arbitrarily valued bobble. My wife and children are my diamonds, gold or jewels. They are the true fortune in my life, the things I value above all else. The naysayers will be quick to point out that it's easy to say that, given my retirement parameters, and although I will acknowledge the truth behind that argument, I will tell you that I don't surmise my opinion would change if the circumstances were altered. 

I have previously written that I feel strongly I married well. Joyce shares very similar sentiments when it comes to living one's own life and the ramifications of holding those opinions. We don't want for much, and while we are disappointed that the pandemic has hampered plans for travel, we are content with our day to day existence in a post-career life. We are beaming with the knowledge that both of our children have carried some of this with them into their adult lives, being generally happy and content with how it's playing out. Are there things they would change, if they could? Sure, but that's up to them to figure out what matters, and it would be unfair to rob them of that life experience.

As the old adage goes, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!" The late Gord Downey preached in a Tragically Hip ditty, "Success is getting what you want. Happiness is wanting what you get." 

Your attitude determines your Altitude. 

You can choose to be happy and content, and all that comes with that, or you can choose make life difficult, but understanding that how you respond to the life's events beyond your control will make all the difference. 

At least, that's the way it appears to me, from my side of the coin.

Brag warning: Simcoe ROCKS!

Simcoe County is chock full of amazing opportunities, if you'd care to know! Having lived here for the better part of my years on this earth, I've been "ooot" and "abooot" to many of its fantastic sights and experiences, but I still haven't seen or done it all. If you've never been here, you'll be woefully unaware of the tremendous diversity this area offers throughout the 4 seasons. You can go from urban sprawl to forest in less than a 10 minute drive. You can rip around the frozen bay on your "sled" and arrive at some of Ontario''s best Alpine or Nordic Skiing in less than a half an hour's drive. You can spelunk, cycle, kayak/canoe, trek, fish, hunt, farm, parachute ... you name it, you can do it here!

The little lady and I recently took advantage of an incredible day of sun to take in the splendor of the Copeland Forest as we gifted ourselves with a little recreational exercise. The "Friends of Copeland" along with the Simcoe County Mountain Bike Club (SCMBC) have tirelessly worked with Horseshoe Valley to expand and maintain Copeland's nearly 100km of hiking/biking trails that quickly convert to Nordic when the inevitable blanket of snow comes to stay. Much of Simcoe is affected by lake effect snow so winter doesn't signal flocking indoors to escape the cold around here. It means get busy!

The "elephant in the room" in this area is the grandeur of Lake Simcoe and the communities that line its shores from the quaint villages like Hawkstone on it's northwestern shore, to upscale cities like Barrie on Kempenfelt Bay to its west or Orillia to the north, to rural gems like Brechin on its northeastern shores. On any given day in any of the 4 seasons, there are locals and visitors enjoying all that Lake Simcoe has to offer. 

If you're at all familiar with Ontario, you'll likely be waving your hand madly in the air like a student who needs to use the lavatory. What about Georgian Bay? And the world famous Wasaga Beach? Yes, of course, that's all a part of the fantastic-ness of this area, but Wasaga would need to share that limelight with awesome towns like Collingwood, Penetanguishine, and Midland, to name only a few that line the shores of the biggest bay that is a part of Lake Huron. Did you know that some of the best kite-surfing/windsurfing/surfing in Ontario is just north of Wasaga at Allenwood Beach? Or that the incredible freshwater sands of Wasaga are actually only the southern tip of beaches that stretch all the way up the northeast shores of Georgian Bay?

Some of Ontario's best Alpine Skiing is situated inside the boundaries of Simcoe County with internationally known Alpine resorts like Blue Mountain, Horseshoe Valley and Mount St Louis being the largest of the many to choose from. If Nordic Skiing is more your style, the internationally acclaimed Hardwood Hills could be your destination, but you couldn't go wrong with choosing Horseshoe Valley's access to the previously mentioned Copeland Forest or the rolling hills of Duntroon Highlands near Collingwood.

If you like to commune with nature through hiking or cycling, there are literally 1000s of km of maintained trails throughout the forested portions of the county, not the least of which is the famed Simcoe County Rail Trail. The Rail Trail circumnavigates the county utilizing 160km of repurposed rail lines from Barrie to Orillia to Coldwater to Waubaushene to Midland/Penetang to Elmvale and back to Barrie. You can use apps like Alltrails to locate many of the hiking/biking trails, but there are three times as many that are unlisted or attached to the mapped ones, many created and maintained by interested groups like the previously mentioned SCMBC.

It goes without saying that the 1000s of square kms of forest and rivers inside the county's boundaries offer hunters and fishermen a smorgasbord of opportunities to ply their hobby. A case in point, a good friend of mine transferred schools so that he could be closer the Nottawasaga River and its annual salmon run! Of course, all that forest sometimes means that nature gets all up in your business, like the time Joyce and I were hiking in Severn township near Coopers Falls and had a near encounter with a mama Black Bear and her cubs! Mother Nature just needs to occasionally remind us who's in charge, that's all.

The coup de grace, for some, would be the Canadian Armed Forces Base Borden, located in the county's west, near the town of Angus. Borden has long had a positive impact on the economy and culture of Simcoe County, being one of the major factors in the growth of Angus, coupled with the Honda plant in Alliston, just 20 minutes south of the base.

To quote my cousin Tim Burtch, "Life is Good!" but it's REALLY good in Simcoe! 
Come visit us sometime!

Welcoming 2021!

With the chiming of midnight, December 31st 2020, we boot to the curb what was likely the craziest year of our lives with a brushing of hands, a devilish chuckle and a satisfying smirk. Now, don't get me wrong, there were some things to commit to memory, but it was most assuredly a dichotomy of emotions, some ecstatic highs like retirement balancing some soul-crushing lows like so much tragic loss of life. New Year's Eve 2020 signalled the end of a decade that echoed the emotional rollercoaster of its penultimate year.

2020 has been appropriately described as a "dumpster fire" and it's universally accepted that it can't leave soon enough with it's pandemic-infused sense of doom, significantly altered state of existence, and trepidatious foreshadowing of wave after wave of spreading infections. With that being so, it has also prompted other changes, more positive in nature, as I "pushed the button" of retirement in January, we enjoyed an adult-focused vacation of significance, Maddi and Chris shared with us their beachside sunset engagement, and I dove headlong into the world of cycling and its body-altering effects. I've often described retirement to those that ask as incredible, life-altering, liberating and rewarding but tempering those emotions with the caveat that I'm unsure where social isolation ends and retirement starts. Former colleagues were quick to quip, "You picked the BEST time to go!" and I can't argue as I watch in horror at the complete "Cluster F*&k" that Ford and his cronies have made with Covid-19 and education. Like so many close to me, I won't be sad to welcome the beginning of a new decade, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I'm missing the perks of it all by being housebound. In the end, they are all memories that will be dutifully filed into the cabinets of my brain, regardless of their energy signature, joining others garnered from a life lived well over the years I've been around.

Back at the beginning of this decade, 2011 entered into existence with a relatively low-key smattering of "Life's like that" moments. I was in the twilight years of a long teaching/coaching career and both of my children were students at good old Barrie Central with an 18 year old Maddi preparing for post-secondary life and a 15 year old Keaton still finding his way through high school. Athletics in 2011 are the most vivid memories of that year. The Sr Girl's Basketball I co-coached with the late Bob Caville shocked the established favourites before just missing the ultimate accomplishment, bested by General Amherst HS in the OFSAA final hosted by Brockville's St Mary CHS. "We're Number Two! We're Number Two!"shouted an unforgettable group of young warrior women. That was followed by the Sr Boy's Basketball team I co-coached with Doug Lowther that lost in the GB playoffs to Twin Lakes. Maddi and a bunch of her Swim Team mates qualified for OFSAA Swimming, making me officially the largest, baldest, most unqualified coach patrolling the deck. The "icing on the cake" was when the Sr Boy's Rugby program continued its successful ways with a hard fought, contentious OFSAA Gold over Trenton hosted by Belleville. Then, to top it all off, Maddi graduated from high school in June and chose to give the U of Waterloo a bunch of money as she steered herself toward her life's aspirations.

As the decade proceeded, the 2012-2013 school year was one for the ages as good old BCC secured 12 GBSSA championships, 9 OFSAA team medals plus a host of individual ones. culminated by the unheard of OFSAA Double Gold when both the Sr Boys and Sr Girls were OFSAA champions. As far as I am aware, no other school has accomplished in any OFSAA team sport. Despite coaching KP in a variety of sports in our past, this was the first time that he played for Central's Sr Boy's Rugby team, and we shared an amazing father-son moment in the muck and mud of Twin Elms in Ottawa with gold hanging from our necks. This was also the year that I finally "grabbed the bull by the horns" and selfishly chose myself as number one by embracing a life change that would culminate in an 80 lb weight loss and growing out the hair on my head and chin for 2013's 365 days ... I sometimes really miss my Yeard.

Much like the rollercoaster that was 2020, 2014 smacked us in the face as a family. By and large, it was another good year but the proverbial "monkey wrench in the gears" was the major concussion that KP suffered in the OFSAA final loss to Erin HS resulting in his becoming a 10-second-Bob. For the 9 or so hours following the end of the game, he could only retain 10-15 seconds of memory, a scary time for us as parents, only softened when a night's sleep seemed to push the reset button, restoring his short term recall, and signalling the start of a long summer of rehab. 

The start of the 2014-2015 school year had and ominous feel as the demise of Central was looming with the SCDSB's confirmation that her doors would close permanently in June 2016, despite the obvious mishandling of the new school build prompting its imminent delay. Maddi was crushing university and Uber excited about graduating, dreams of Physiotherapy on the horizon. KP had fully recovered from his concussion and was killing it in all of his chosen passions, including making a life path decision to focus on auto mechanics as a career, and culminated by the Sr Boy's Rugby program's 9th OFSAA Gold, convened by Ron Andrews and I at the Jim Hamilton Field in Midhurst in front of over 2000 rabid supporters. KP established himself as one of Central's best ever with an incredible last second try that was of mythological proportions, and I couldn't have been more proud, both as a father and a coach. This was the beginning of his realization of a dream as he would ultimately represent Ontario U19's at the July's Nationals in Regina Saskatchewan then playing his way onto the Canada U20 national team, early in February 2016. Were it not for an incredible 55m last second PK by the US, he would have played in the World Trophy Tournament.

* Edit: My aunt Faulene reminded me that my paternal grandmother passed in 2015 at the age of 101!

The year 2016 will forever carry the Black Mark of Central's doors being forever closed. True to form, we sent Central off with an epic celebration, 174 years in the making, with a reunion in June of that year. As the saying often used, "Don't cry because it's over ... Smile because it happened!" Central's past and present shared their collective grief with both class and dignity. The closing also created a significant change as I was forced to ply my trade at Barrie North in the fall of the year. Having said all of that, Joyce and I were proud as peacocks when Maddi walked across the stage to receive her BSc in Kinesiology from Waterloo while holding the hand of what would turn out to be the love of her life, Chris Cove, and we both acknowledged that our little girl would soon be leaving our protective umbrella. KP fell in love with the left coast following his U20 Canada experience, and hooked up with James Bay to play in the "Prems" for a season before giving tree planting in northern BC for the summer. 

2017, 2018 and 2019 became the "Swan Song" years as Joyce and I started looking to the future through the lens of retirement, watching our children traverse the pitfalls of adulthood, and navigating the inevitable life changes of aging as both our parents transitioned from our childhood homes to dwellings more suited to their octogenarian lifestyles. 

During those years, there were also loads of Life's Little Moments:

We sadly said goodbye to Joyce's father in 2018, shortly after his 89th birthday.

Joyce and I travelled to California for the 7's Rugby World Cup.
Maddi and Chris bought their first house and cat together.

Joyce's mother settled into a gorgeous little Sr's apartment in Haliburton.

Many of my nieces and nephews graduated high school.

My brother Rob became the 1st of the brothers to become a grandparent.

My brother Mike and his wife moved out west to be with her ailing father. 

Keaton secured his apprenticeship, first at Crappy Tire then at Midas.

My mother bought a condo on Barrie's incredible waterfront.

I said a sad goodbye to coaching, a passion for so many years.

I taught my first span of coach-free months ... and it wasn't too shabby!

Looking back like this, I have to admit that I've been blessed by many things over my life. I'm pretty sure I can handle staying inside with the love of my life for a little while longer or wearing a mask when we venture out for necessities. 

Look out 2021 ... Here we come!