This week's thoughts

I've made mention in previous posts about things that have popped up in my newly minted life that have caused some contemplation and curiousity. This last couple of weeks has been no different so I thought I'd share some of my reactions to these oddities. To be honest, I am not sure if I have more thoughts on the comings and goings at this stage in my life, or that I have been blessed with the time to both acknowledge them and ruminate on them. Either way, they are present and make for good writing topics.

Thought (1):

Many of you know that my daughter's wedding is looming. I had always heard others in my life who had reached this point commenting on the perceptible increase in stress as the "Big Day" approaches. I can recall thinking they obviously hadn't planned anything of a significant scale before, and based on my experiences with major sporting events like large high school tournaments and OFSAA championships ... I've run dozens at my schools plus two OFSAA Rugby and one OFSAA Basketball ... I initially felt that the planning for a wedding couldn't be worse than that, and after all, I had planned my own some 30 years ago. 

Oh, you silly man, you have no clue, do you?

Since my only experience with wedding planning for my child comes with a Covid laced sugar coating, I really have no way of knowing whether this is "normal", or if it's simply the consternation that comes with the pandemic. For what it's worth, I suspect that while it's definitely made things more difficult, the wedding process has living up to the hype. My paternal heart absolutely aches for my daughter Maddi and her fiancee Chris. Transitioning from the look of sheer elation that night on the shores of the gulf when she said YES, to the look of despondence she wears now under the constant pressure of checking off all the boxes, both Joyce and I are at a loss on how to make this better, like any caring parent would wish. 

For some back story on this, you should know that Maddi + Chris started off like so many other young couples with moderate plans that included extended family, and they were able to find and secure appropriate amenities to accommodate those desires. As the pandemic played out, as I am sure you can empathize, they have had to alter those plans numerous times, and finally relented, under the threat of losing their deposit payments thanks to the threat of the unknown ebb and flow of government policies related to the coronavirus, scrapping the grandiose for the more manageable by opting for a cottage location for a wedding on the beach. Sounds quaint and easily done, no? Well, NO is certainly the correct answer! Rather than list all of the compromises, adjustments, hassles and disappointments, just know that things have not gone smoothly partly due to Covid, partly due to the remoteness of the cottage, partly due to the timelines, but mostly due to crappy luck. 

The one saving grace through it all is that time waits for no one, and the whole thing will soon be over, regardless of what the final details look like, and Maddi + Chris will be able to finally move forward in the development of their personal form of marital bliss.

Thought (2):

I usually steer way clear of publicly discussing politics, (a) because it's a losing arguement every single time and (b) because I feel strongly that one's voting decisions are private, but I am going to step out of my comfort zone on this with a little rant about this upcoming federal election. While I admit that I am not waving the flag at the front of the Justin Trudeau fan parade, I must also admit that I'm not doing it for any of the other leaders either. Do I agree with what Trudeau has done thus far in his tenure and am I happy with the direction he is steering the good ship Canada? Do I have confidence that one of the other parties has more competence?

NOPE! Far from it!

The major problem for me, and maybe for so many others, is that I can't honestly etch my seal of approval on any leader, which leaves me falling into the recent trend of voting someone OUT rather than voting someone IN. To put it another way, my vote will be choosing the lesser of all the evils? I have had a few discussions about this frustrating trend with people I love and respect, and to a person, we are all weary of being faced with this mode of thinking. It has been purported that the trend toward a career in politics rather than being a service one does later in one's life is the culprit, and you really can't argue against that train of thought when you see the mess that politics is in all parts of the country. As the signs were hammered into the ground around my new neighbourhood, the faces staring back at me were definitively younger than I personally feel they should be, and without falling prey to agism, it struck me that the candidates may all be guilty of looking at the potential perks rather than the service. They most certainly lack the wisdom of experience, IMHO.

My other issue with the election announcement is the timing, same as so many others have lamented. Why create even more chaos than is already present amidst the surging tsunami of the Delta variant? After spending billions on much needed Covid aid, the last thing that is needed is the cost of an unnecessary election, but as previously stated, the myopic viewpoint wins out, and the lure of a possible majority win is too enticing for the Trudeau-led Liberals. In my limited understanding of the inner workings of Parliament Hill, I have formed the opinion that a minority government is better for you, me and the citizens of Canada so that one party cannot create their own version of Nirvana ... AKA the trump years as proof, anyone?

As the saying goes, "It boils my blood!"

Thought (3):
As a final thought, this is more of a 1st world problem, but with all of the cycling I've been doing, I dodged a bullet for the past two weeks by getting out there without provisions in the event of a blow-out. For those not into cycling, I ride tubeless tires which means that I am less susceptible to puncture flats, but I can still get stranded if I blow a hole in my tire. I always have a tube with me in case because you fix a blown tubeless tire by putting a tube in it, but that's no good if you don't have a way to inflate the tube. Well, I was having an issue with my tubeless front wheel losing pressure and I used my last CO2 cartridge before I could get some new ones. 

Stay with me ... the point's coming ...

I ordered some new CO2 cartridges and it took forever for Amazon to deliver them. I finally got a hold of a real person for some assistance, and while apologizing repeatedly, they said the best they could do was refund the cost since they could not tell me where my delivery was because it was not an Amazon fulfillment. That part I don't get! Other than knowing that it had left the warehouse, the agent was at a loss to explain it. I settled on the refund, which happened immediately BTW, and ordered some new ones, making sure it was actually Amazon fulfilling it this time, and since I have Prime, they were a 1 day delivery. Yesterday the knock on the door signalled that delivery, or so I thought, but it actually turned out to be the original package. Not more than 30 minutes later, the second package arrived. Needless to say, I'm well stocked for a while, and both Joyce and I feel more at ease as I set out on my two-wheeled adventures. 

Here's the thing though. 

Is Jeff Bezos making so much cash off the pandemic that Amazon can refund a purchase without stopping the delivery? Granted that it's not a lot of money we're talking about here, but if that is repeated multiple times, it wouldn't take long to add up. I will admit that I understand it is financially easier to simply refund the purchase than to pay some customer service rep's time and energy to track down this missing package, and I'm not one to stare a "gift horse in the mouth", but it does seem a little ludicrous to me. 

Anyway, those are the fruits of my grey matter this week.
In the immortal words of Forest Gump, "That's all I got to say about that."

The BIG C!

These days, the one phrase that no one likes to hear associated with anyone in their circle is "The BIG C". Most would immediately recognize the phrase as it alludes to Cancer, but I've decided to redefine it, putting a positive spin on it, make it something of a badge, or medal. The Big C for me is emblematic of COURAGE, be it coping, battling, talking about, or supporting those in the fight. This alteration is a direct result of a friend of mine's eloquent retelling of his personal journey involving Cancer, which caused me pause to take stock of how it has invaded my life, from a personal standpoint.

I first met Marty McCrone eons ago, thanks to our mutual love of basketball. He's a little older that I am and was one of my early heroes in the sport. I marvelled at how effortlessly he commanded the respect of his opponents by tirelessly competing with the ferocity of a wolverine. He always seemed to be one step ahead of the defence, willing his body to do things I had not seen before with the grace of a ballet master. As time passed, our paths crossed multiple occasions on the court, in the classroom, as coaches, and then as friends, developing a mutual respect that grew into a really comfortable relationship. I was honoured by his invitation to develop friendships with his wife Julie, and two sons Luke and Jake.

Marty is really easy to like and personifies the word COURAGE.

Marty is a shining beacon of positivity, quick with a genuine smile, has an amazingly loud laugh, and quickly sucks people into his influence like some irresistible, invisible vacuum. Pretty hard to miss, he belies his giant stature in his gentle, genuine interactions with children. Barrie born and raised, he is recognizable to many as one of the two faces for Thunderhoops Shooting Camp, along with lifelong friend Paul Hopper, but more recently, his infamy has spread thanks to his willingness to be completely vulnerable through a brilliantly written, bare-it-all expose of his battles with Cancer that he has shared with friends through Social Media. I'm embarrassed to say that I had no idea of the depths Cancer had dragged him to, and the pain, anguish and heartache it cause his loved ones. I was well aware of his struggles, the scars of battle are really hard to miss, but I'm not at all surprised by his attitude because that's Marty to a T. If his expose can alleviate the fears of others enduring similar journeys through "Middle Earth" as he calls it, then he wouldn't hesitate for a second. His openness as a Cancer warrior, approaching complete strangers displaying the telltale signs of their own war with sincere caring, empathy and concern, is alone worthy of respect, but his one-man crusade to make the world a better place to be, simply because he can, makes him one of the most admirable people I know.

You need to get to know this guy. 

If you're not connected to him on Social Media, you can try looking him up on FB. That's where he's posted his writings on how he dealt with two different Cancer battles and they are ABSOLUTELY worth reading.

Cancer has robbed my life of some really awesome people. Those who know me will be already be aware of the personal pain of losing my father Terry "Doc" Porter at an early age to the damned disease, but there have also been close friends like Mike Morrison, Paul Bethune, Bob Caville, and more recently, John Larsen, to name only a handful, who's bravery fighting was not rewarded. 

It's the insidiousness of the disease that gets me the most, with cases where the primary is never found but there are loads of secondaries, ultimately leading the a losing battle. That was the case with my father. Even an autopsy failed to definitively answer the questions of where it all started. Then there are those that seem to be doomed from the discovery, detection coming early, treatment starting quickly and aggressively, yet other than making life miserable, fail to produce results. 

Frustrating barely covers my reaction.

This month, I'm riding my bike in support of Sick Kids Hospital and childhood cancer research. It's a program I was introduced to last year, and I thought that I should continue, so I set my goals for both riding and fundraising at levels that I felt were a reach, yet attainable. Lo and behold, I hadn't even ridden a single day before I had surpassed my $500 fundraising goal thanks to my own personal gift and some serious generosity from good friends. As the first few days of August passed, a few other friends flexed their generosity muscles, and combined with some system donor matching, pushed me over the $1000 mark, twice what I had set out to raise. Now all I had to accomplish were the rides to cover the 1000 km's that I committed to, and at the time of this writing, I am proud to say that I achieved that goal by the 18th ... with still more km's to come. The system allows us to increase our fundraising and distance goals if desired, but for right now, I feel like sticking with what I committed to is best. 

When I ride more km's ... and I will ... then that'll be awesome. 

In the end, I feel really, really humbled and grateful for the assistance raising just north of $1000 for Cancer research. Hopefully we can all do our little part to help find a foolproof way to shelter families, like yours, mine and Marty's, from the life-altering effects of Cancer.

3 decades of bliss!

As many of you already know, thanks to my 72 hours of action on Social Media, Joyce and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary on Tuesday August 17th, 2021. If you care to do the math, that means she finally caved under my relentless pressure on Saturday August 17th, 1991. I know it's cliche, but I can remember so many things from that stretch of hot and steamy summer days, many, many years ago. It's also cliche to say that so much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same. 

I always have thoughts ... this is no different.

Joyce and I weren't immediately destined for a life of marital bliss when we first were introduced way back in 1984. I was an undergrad at Queen's, pretty full of myself as a varsity football starter who was fresh off an epic season where we lost to the University of Calgary Dinos in the Vanier Cup. My incredible parents were footing the tuition bill for my post-secondary education so it was up to me to foot the living expenses, costs made all the more extravagant by fully experiencing the thrills of uni-life outside of the classroom. I had managed to fool the owners of the Firehall Restaurant into hiring me first on the door, then on the waitstaff. Joyce and I worked together and quickly discovered that we enjoyed the opportunity to experience the Kingston nightlife with a small group of others that also worked there. We were a tight group, and justified the after-work festivities as just desserts since we supplied the "grease" for so many other's merriment. 

As those university years progressed, our little restaurant slash bar became a go-to site for downtown Kingston revellers, thanks partly to the brilliance of it's management to add features like "Margaritaville", the cities first Mexican-themed outdoor patio, and in all bias, the incredible staff that was assembled. One of my character flaws is a difficulty with names ... I often have to "eat crow" and ask people to remind me ... but my wonderful brain supplied me with an uncanny recall of faces, an ability that coupled with connecting their libation of choice, meant that people loved the fact that I would bring them a drink just seconds after they arrived, without them even asking. Joyce was a cutie-patootie (still is, actually), and charmed them with her great smile and effervescent personality. 

Together we were quite successful in separating people from the contents of their wallets.

The more we worked and socialized together, the stronger our friendship grew, and we both acknowledged that there was more to it than just enjoying the nightlife together, a budding romance slowly blossoming. Our first actual date was in 1986, and the rest is history, as the saying goes. We spent a lot of time together, often arranging a few sleepovers complete with blanket forts, but finally succumbed to inevitable in 1988, sharing four walls first out in the townships, then a unique little house in the midtown area. By the time that I had come to grips with my desires for an education career in the longterm, we were pretty confident that our relationship was built to last, and in 1989, we bid farewell to Kingston, moving to Holland Landing while I attended Teacher's College at a satellite campus in Newmarket. That was the setting where my nervous engagement question asked was greeted with a teary, "Of course!" 

We were determined to do things our own way ... still are, actually ... and we quickly arranged the details for a ceremony in my parent's Sunnidale Road backyard, followed by a reception at the old Georgian College Conference Centre. The GCCC was the coupe of the century because it featured Lord Simcoe's original cottage, Marden Lodge, where we housed all of the "younger" folk and fitted with enough snacks and drinks to keep the festivities going well past the 10:00 pm end of the reception. I will tell you that the beginning of our official lives together couldn't have had a better beginning. 

In truth, Joyce and I have been blessed. We bought our first home, the one we recently sold (see previous posts), just weeks before the wedding, and once the confetti had settled, we got busy creating our life together. Two years later in 1993, life changed significantly with the birth of child numero uno, Maddison Leigh, and then finalized the "Millionaire's Family" in 1996, with the addition of Keaton Lorne. I was working stupid hours ... by choice ... because I hadn't yet seen the light and was still in the elementary panel, having slowly been "promoted" each year before settling into the Grade 7/8 life, and coaching 5-6 teams each year. When we were married, and had discussions over full dinner plates about how we envisioned our lives playing out, we quickly discovered a joint desire to make a go of having a full time parent at home with the kids. Since I had the career with benefits-pension, and because she harboured a deep-seeded desire to be a SuperMom, we agreed that Joyce would (wo)man the ship with it's cherubic, busy crew. 

Those were some Uber active years!

I was always 99% sure I had chosen a great life-mate, but it was pushed over the brim when we had discussions about making the leap-of-faith into the secondary panel, partly because it would mean I would lose seniority, but mostly because changing full stock was scary, a fear that quickly escalated thanks to the Harris Years' strike. Once the political turmoil subsided, I dug into high school life deeper than a tick, the kids ran Joyce off her feet, and we often felt like the proverbial "ships in the night". To this day, I'm amazed that we negotiated the stormy seas of our lives through raising little athletes, teaching, Central coaching, Georgian College coaching, provincial team coaching, GBSSA Executive, OFSAA Executive ... Oh, and occasionally finding ourselves enjoying each other's embrace in those rare moments of quiet and calm, usually drifting off on the couch in the early evening.

As the kids grew into amazing young people, as I finally learned how to say NO, as life settled significantly, and as we acquired the maturity of age, we found that those turbulent years had actually steeled our love, and we quite enjoyed each other's attention as we found less and less demands from outside our home. Once the time came that both of our little chicks flown the coop, we re-discovered those love-struck times of oh-so-many years ago, turning our attention to our jointly generated wants and desires. As many of you already know, that wasn't enough, we had to make things even more of a challenge by selling our home of 30 years and moving communities, percolating off all extraneous influences to expose our relationship in it's most pure form. 

I am pleased to announce that things couldn't be any better!

In celebration of our 3 decade milestone, we explored the southwest of Ontario, first taking in the summertime frenzy of Port Stanley with a delicious beachside patio meal at GT's, then a few quiet days in Erieau and Rondo Provincial Park at a quaint little cottage that was most definitely in the truest sense of the word. A bunch of walks and bike rides later, we toasted our longevity over back bacon + egg bagels and a shared Mike's Hard Peach ... we're such party hounds now! HaHaHa!

Here's to the next 30! With both of our parent's families sporting nonagenarians, hopefully our genetics kick in full power! Either way, we'll be in pretty awesome company, and loving every moment!

Happy 30th Sweetheart! I love you more than I can possibly say!

Perplexing questions from this week

A handful of things have popped up this week that have left me scratching my head puzzled ... perplexed ... baffled ... bemused ... certainly not irritated or upset, though. Topping the list with the greatest impact is the forecasted heat wave to hit Ontario this week, and it's impact on life as we know it. A close second would be the Ford government's proposed "Return to School" plan, what it contains, and what it is missing. In a tie for the list's caboose came about from a hot and humid stroll along the Speed River.

Curiousity #1

For those with decent recall, we collectively suffered our way through a pretty intense heat wave back in July, spawning Nature's fury in the form of the tornado that hit Barrie while also raising the alarm bells about potential power consumption, safety concerns for the vulnerable, and recommendations for how to beat the heat. Well, the latest warnings binging on my iPhone are of a more dire nature with 100km winds, violent thunderstorms with substantial hail, and humidex temperatures in the 40's. After seeing the devastation and destruction that happened in the blink of an eye in south Barrie, there's a heightened sense of worry and consternation. Hurricane Ana that formed on May 22 made this year the 7th consecutive hurricane season with a named storm in May dating all the way back to 2012, with the exception of 2014. Even though, by the time I post this, the fear mongering didn't com to fruition, it doesn't change the fact that things are most definitely changing.

My point is, it strikes me that all the naysayers about climate change need to pull their heads out of the sand and take a hard look around because heat-influenced weather events are certainly becoming more commonplace, and the damages that are being paid out by our insurance companies is adding up. You KNOW who'll be paying for those pay outs, right? I wouldn't refer to myself as a 'tree hugger" but I am worried about the state of things as we move further and further down this climate change continuum. 

Question: What kind of a world are we willing to leave to our children and descendants?

Curiosity #2

With help from CTV and Global News for information, I can tell you that Premiere Doug Ford and Minister Stephen Lecce sat squarely on the hot seat recently with their much anticipated announcement that all students will be able to return to the classroom full time this September under their highly controversial back-to-school plan. Originally promised for release in July, the recent announcement indicated that elementary and secondary students will attend school in-person five days per week, with remote learning remaining an option for parents who don’t feel comfortable returning to in-person learning. Masks will be mandatory for all students between Grade 1 and Grade 12, and will remain optional, but recommended, for children in kindergarten. Thankfully, they are not required outdoors. In the plan, the Lecce urged school boards to be prepared for a potential closures and have plans in place so all students can pivot to remote learning if the COVID-19 situation worsens, a perplexing statement given that Ontario Chief Medical Officer Dr. Kieran Moore went public that he doesn’t expect to have to shutter classrooms.

Hmmmm, says I, as I kiss my teeth.

While the plan addresses a necessary focus on enhancing and improving the many antiquated ventilation systems in Ontario's schools, complete with millions of budget dollars being thrown in that direction, the elephant in the room is whether the money would actually reach the hands of School Boards and contractors. The government's track record on unfulfilled announcements of cash is dismal. Being completely biased, what about schools that do not have up-to-date or upgradable ventilation systems? The high school I retired from has many areas where there is no air movement at all because it is heated and cooled using a boiler-type system. Combine this with Lecce's failure to deal with class sizes that put 25+ bodies in a secondary classroom that is not physically large enough to be safely distanced, and any one who cares to see can understand why teachers have been vocal with their concerns.

According to Global, Dr. Peter Juni, a professor of medicine and epidemiology at the University of Toronto and scientific director of Ontario’s COVID-19 Science Advisory Table, said the emphasis on masking and ventilation is a key part of the overall provincial plan, but the glaring omission in it centers around vaccinations, who needs one, who doesn't, and what happens when things fall apart. Critics say the provincial document doesn't address how schools can enforce different rules for vaccinated versus unvaccinated children, especially regarding isolation and return-to-school procedures in the event of an outbreak. Ford has been quoted that Ontario will never have vaccination passports, so how do schools know who has and who hasn't? 

What a wasp's nest that will become for teachers and administrators! 

Question: Acknowledging my obvious biases, at what point in the preparation to open schools will this glaring oversight be addressed? Considering my concern for my friends that are still on the front lines, sooner is better.

Curiousity #3

Joyce and I have consciously chosen to get off the rocker (no comments from the cheap seats) and get more active. In that vein, we were enjoying the incredible trail systems that Guelph offers, in particular the large one that follows the Speed River, and since the heat was oppressive, we stopped to sit on one of the many, many benches along the river's edge. Enjoying the respite, we quietly soaked in the cooling breeze, the wildlife busy scavenging, and the tranquility of the peaceful flow as it wound it's way slowly southward toward downtown and the connection with the Eramosa River.

Watching the ducks in particular, it struck us as curious to see them go about their task, odd little behaviours in full view. Bobbing along, they'd go bottoms up to feast on the submerged plant life, but when they resurfaced, there'd a a moments calm before a full body shiver-like wiggle. Puzzled by this, I mentioned it to Joyce, and the two of us could not really come up with a plausible explanation for the queer behaviour. 

Our peaceful contemplations were rudely interrupted by a small hoard of Canada Geese as they literally crash-landed on the river, sending water spraying everywhere, and startling the ducks into a frenzied gaggle of quacking, spasmodic convulsions. To top it off, the bedlam was accompanied by the annoyingly familiar honking as the bullies proceeded to chase the much smaller ducks away, claiming the feeding spot as their own. If I'm honest, I've never been a fan of Canada Geese, and I'd love to see something done about their numbers because whether it's Barrie, Guelph or any other place with water, they quickly mark their territory with piles of feces and over grazed patches of waterfront. My dear father introduced me to the term "Shit hawk" but he was referring to Seagulls ... he should have coined those dadgum geese with that gem of a moniker. 

In the fallout of the bedlam on the river, Joyce noticed a real eyebrow-raiser on the ground just off to the right. A steady stream of tiny red ants was making a visible trail to a wiggling, shivering mound of said ants piling up on each other, creating an ant mini-mountain. Watching for a few minutes, our wide-eyed astonishment increased as more and more ants joined the fray, lifting the peak of the mound to very noticeable heights. Neither of us had seen anything like that before. To add to our obvious astonishment, by the time we decided to pack it in, the mound had more or less dissipated. 

Question: Any budding entomologists why those wee ants would behave that way?

Our tranquility fully broken, the conversation drifted tangentially to the evening meal, and more appropriately, did we wish to cook something hot in this heat? We quickly agreed that we did not, and a cool Subway cold cut combo was the choice. Reaching for my iPhone to discover the closest one to us, I discovered that there are not that many Subway franchises in Guelph. Sure, there are a few, but not like Barrie, where they are only marginally outnumbered by Tim Hortons franchises. It begs the question, how can you have a university town that not only has a relatively low number of Subways, but there are not very many in the direct area of said university? A shrug of the shoulders and a short drive later, we claimed our "sammies", enjoying a delicious and quick dinner in the AC of the condo.

Annnnd, we didn't have to cook!

Life is Good ... perplexing, but good.

The Cycling Holy Grail!

Regular readers of this Blog or those whose Social Media connections include me will be astutely aware that I have embraced the #bikelife and poured some of our hard earned savings into the necessary (as far as I see it) equipment for getting "Oot and Aboot" the country roads of Simcoe and Wellington Counties. What many may not know is that cycling, like so many passions, has an unwritten code that dictates conditions to any ride undertaken, especially if the ride is shared with like-minded folk. Some components of that code are self-explanatory, like safety precautions and such, but the more popular portions surround the quest to find any and all unique Treat Shops within a day's ride of one's home base. Not to be considered a "party pooper", I have embraced the code and all of the sugar-infused wonderfulness that results from my personal Grail Quest.

I must come clean that I fancy myself a little like Superman. 

Not the "stronger than a steaming locomotive, leaps giant buildings in a single bound" parts, but the tight-wearing, being vulnerable to Kryptonite parts and like Kal-El, my Kryptonite comes in different forms, some plain, some with pecans, some with walnuts, even some with raisons (Yikes!). The sleuths in the crowd will have already guessed that my Kryptonite is Canada's gift to the world's diabetic woes ... Butter Tarts.

Fun Fact: Did you know that the first written recipe for Butter Tarts was published in Barrie, Ontario dating back to 1900 in the Women's Auxiliary of the Royal Victoria Hospital Cookbook?

Now, anyone with an Internet connection can look up a recipe for Butter Tarts and create their own version of the syrupy delight, but that won't make the cut in my eyes because my quest has caused some rather ordinary efforts to cross my tongue, leaving behind the resulting disappointment. Like any quest, however, my Herculean effort is occasionally rewarded with a gleaming, flaky, sweet gemstone whose lure saps any and all willpower I possess to resist its Siren call, usually resulting in the consumption of multiple offerings, despite my best intentions.

In the event that you have a similar affliction, allow me to be a lighthouse beacon into the sea's foggy haze and pointing the path to a few trek-worthy finds, at least in my taste bud's opinion:

Best Overall: The Maid's Cottage on Newmarket's Main Street, ON

The Maid's Cottage, IMHO, has the greatest combination of ooey-gooey filling encapsulated by a flaky, crispy pastry that immediately spike's ones insulin levels while similarly injecting a potent blast of Dopamine. Although slightly on the expensive side at $3.50 each, they are a substantial size, incredible tasting, and consistently awesome. I will admit that my opinion is skewed by the fact that these are a relatively rare treat since my quest doesn't often include the roadways of Newmarket. Having said that, I have tried many, many offerings and I always come back to the MC!

A close Second: Belwood Country Market in Bellwood, ON

If you weren't a cyclist or a fan of small town Ontario, you would be excused from actually knowing where Belwood is. My introduction to this hamlet was on a social ride along the Elora-Cataract Trail, a route that takes you right past the Belwood Country Market, provided someone tells you to take a right over the bridge crossing Belwood Lake. The outside of this little shop belies the incredible concoctions that lie within, and upon entry, it's intoxicating aromas have a Pavlovian effect on your saliva glands. While the Butter Tarts are memorable, you would do yourself a tremendous favour to split your money and include the mini apple pie, a Butter Tart-sized, custard-bottomed, gooey slice of heaven. These gemstones are $3.25 each.

Honourable Mention for Size: Birch Farms on Mill Road in Hillsdale, ON

If you didn't know where Hillsdale, ON, is, you wouldn't be alone. This tiny village is just a short jaunt north of Barrie up highway #93, along the route to Midland. Having knowledge of Hillsdale isn't the combination to this particular vault because one has to head out of Hillsdale on Mill Road to the actual Birch Farm on the corner of Mill and Old Second Line, and are a feature of Farmer's Markets throughout Simcoe County. These Butter Tarts are gargantuan and are a Two-fer for your money, at the very least! The filling is consistently lovely with just the right amount of runny, but the crust is more pie-like, relegating them to Honourable Mention, but if you wish to stretch your purchasing power, these baby pies are only $3.00 each.

Honourable Mention for Pastry: Dar's Delights in Moffatt, ON

One of the more local shops we've run across is found in another Ontario hamlet, this one called Moffatt, just east of Guelph at the corner of Wellington Side Road #15 and Nassawageya 1st Line. At the risk of Dar herself reading this, it's not her people skills that are a delight, but her Butter Tarts are worth the trip solely for the scrumptious pastry that must have come over years of trial and error. To achieve that golden brown, crispy, flaky, deliciousness, she must be using lard or something similarly awful for your health, but your tastebuds will be your best friends for life. The filling is too gelly-like but the real knock on these offerings are the relatively smaller size for $3.25. 

As a send off, if you're feeling a personal connection between us through our shared weakness, you may wish to chance a diabetic coma and should mark in your calendar that the weekend of June 11th is Ontario's Best Butter Tart Festival. This Nirvana showcases the top 20-25 venders from all around the province in an informal contest seeking to award Ontario's most delectable treat title. The main street near the harbour in Midland is shut down to walking traffic only and features aromas that are both intoxicating and captivating. Click Here for more information.

If you'll excuse me, all of this reminiscing has caused a stir in my palette and I'm heading out for a ride!

The 5 ring circus

Here we are in the summer of an Olympic year. Well, a year later than an Olympic year, but we are all astutely aware of the reason for the delay. Like so many across the globe, I have made pronounced butt creases in my rocker as I sit in front of my "big" screen to follow the elation and heartbreak that is the Tokyo Olympic Summer Games. Naysayers, hiding behind arguments about professionalism, complain that Games' time has come and gone, and they're no longer interested in watching. Curiously, these are the same people who wish to talk about the many newsworthy moments of the games in our conversations. Well, I will get up on my soapbox in vocal favour of the human drama that plays out each Olympics.

Sure, it feels vaguely strange to refer to them as the 2020 Tokyo Olympics when its 2021. Sure, there are acknowledged biases in the "have" nations and "have not" nations matching up in competitions. Sure, hosting the games in a pandemic almost guarantees that Japan will shoulder the massive debt of the games for years to come ... Montreal '76 anyone ... despite the majority of citizens vocally opposed to hosting. Having acknowledged all of that, for me there is no better stretch than when either a summer or winter games in on because I will always see them as the penultimate sporting competition. As a former elite athlete, I LOVE IT!

Some of you who know me will have heard me opine about my viewing preferences in a variety of choices where the nature always includes the likelihood of an upset. It is my esteemed opinion that NCAA, CIS, Club, High School activities are far more entertaining because of the greater chance of a "David and Goliath" scenario. A perfect example was the Women's Road Race where amateur Anna Kiesenhofer won gold by creating such a massive lead that the peloton actually forgot she was that far ahead, a direct consequence of riders not being allowed to have radio contact during the race. Another example was only shocking to those who have not followed basketball outside of North America when France convincingly defeated tradition powerhouse and NBA-laden USA in opening pool play.  How about Canadian weightlifter Maude Charron shocking the field by easily winning the 64kg class for gold, just the 2nd medal Canada has ever won in weightlifting? Yet another was Tunisia's Ahmed Hafnaoui's gold in the 400m Freestyle, a race that the 18 year old beat the powerhouse Aussies and Americans to the wall.

While up on my soapbox, I'll admit that I am not a massive fan of the inclusion of professional athletes in Olympic competition, and that I am absolutely thrilled when the amateur outlasts the pro, even though I know that even those deemed amateurs by the IOC rules are far from true amateurs, I'll capitulate that in some cases, it's entertaining to watch the pros perform together like 1992 Dream Team. I know that I'm in the minority on this, and I have had more than my fair share of discussions with buddies over beverages and snacks, but I'm entitled to hold an unpopular opinion, and I simply prefer to spend my viewing dollars on stuff that interests me ... 'nuff said.

One thing has become glaringly obvious though. 

My heart breaks for the athletes in Tokyo's maelstrom of Covid-19 infections, having to endure daily (or even twice daily) nasal swabs and symptom declarations while attempting to keep their mental focus. Exacerbating the situation, athlete's support networks and loved ones cannot be there in emotional support to share in their life-altering experience. Even worse, once their events are complete ... hopefully to the best of their ability ... the expectation is to vacate the premises ASAP, no chance for collegiality, cultural exchange, or celebrations. Listen, I totally understand why, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. For me, that is the difference between the Olympics and World Championships. The Olympics was designed to be a huge stew pot of personalities from all corners of the globe where new connections and networking can occur with the potential to significantly change lives for the better by effectively "shrinking" the globe. I have always been impressed by the videos and stories of athletes whose competitions were complete, cheering boisterously in the stands at the competitions of new or old friends, maybe even taking in that particular activity for the very first time. Who doesn't remember Canadian Skeleton Gold Medallist John MOntgomery casually consuming a pitcher of frothy celebration as he strolled through Whistler village? In a pandemic plagued Olympics, that doesn't ... and unfortunately shouldn't ... happen.

Perhaps it's habit.
Perhaps it was intentional.
Perhaps it just happened without any conscious thought, but I have long held that the Olympics is the penultimate sporting competition, bigger than professional Championships or other international tournaments. I always fostered the dream of both qualifying for and being successful at the Olympics as the gold-plated goal for any athlete that I had a chance to interact with. I have been gifted a blessed life, both as an athlete and as a coach, but I was never good enough nor able to will myself to sacrifice enough to qualify, but I swell with pride each time a young person I have assisted in their Olympic journey, earns the right to compete. There have been a few over the years, and this year is no exception, with Central alumni Kayla Alexander (basketball) and Kaili Lukan (7s rugby) representing their families, their schools, their home towns and their country so admirably. Former Team Ontario Rugby standouts I was blessed to coach, Lucas Hammond and Andrew Coe, were huge parts of the men's 7s Rugby that fought bravely before settling for 8th overall. I'm not so vain to think I was responsible for their success, but my heart still swells with pride from the small role that I played in their journey. Besides, I always have cherished the ability to develop friendships with those I coached, creating an emotional bond that makes cheering them on even more special. 

Some of those friendships created were bolstered by Social Media, allowing former athletes and their parents to continue to be linked so I can follow their progression to Olympic dreams, while others grew to become more than just athletic based commonalities, stitching together stronger bonds of connection through face to face interactions apart from sport. The Lukan family has graciously accepted me into their group, and I am flattered to be able to include them in my friendship circle. Older sibling Megan was a part of the women's 7s Rugby team that won bronze in the Rio Olympics, and I truly thought I couldn't be any more proud of a former athlete until the youngest sister Kaili followed her sister's lead, earning her own spot on the Canada 7s for Tokyo. That is no shot at Megan in any way, shape or form, but I was only blessed with two years of player-coach interactions with her due to her tremendous successes outside of Central's walls as a member of Canada's national basketball program. Partially due to knowing Kaili for longer since I had coached older sisters Alyska and Megan, combined with the timing of our interactions since they occurred in her senior years, and included the success of an OFSAA Silver medal, we developed a tightly woven relationship with a deeper investment. I am astutely aware of how hard it's been, how much sacrifice has been given, how much sweat equity and pain endured.

Proud as a peacock, as the saying goes.

The next few nights will be a steady diet of CBC's hosts and oft-repeated commercials interspersed between the best value my money can buy as each athlete gets the Worhol-inspired "15 seconds of fame" for all the connected world to see. I'll always cheer for the upset, the underdog, the unsung to rise above the expectations and realize something special, be it PB or podium. 

Citius. Altius. Fortius.

That cursed bicycle!

Two things crossed my retinas recently that generated the impetus for this post. One was an editorial on the CBC news site about why cyclists and drivers clash, and the other was a FB post about how cyclists are destroying the planet.

Every time I'm out for a ride with other bike-minded folk, we of course talk about our bikes, what we've seen or done on a recent ride, or the state of our lives as impacted by the cost of maintaining/improving our bikes, but we are invariably reminded of our other common link when an unpleasant encounter with a vehicle occurs ...  the "What's the deal with that guy (or gal)?" discussion. Why do you think it is that every conversation about bikes, cars and pedestrians is so contentious? Why does almost every cyclist have multiple stories about nastiness directed at them, regardless if they've knowingly done anything wrong?

If you think about what makes cyclists different, one big thing is that they're a visible minority, all bedecked in their fancy stretchy clothes. They're people who have chosen a behaviour that is different to what most others do, or have done, because while most people have physically ridden a bike at some point in their life, a relatively small number has chosen to make it their main form of exercise. However, that alone can't be the root since we could easily find other groups that are visible minorities through chosen actions but don't generate the same visceral reaction. Vegetarians, as an example, are a group of people who have chosen a lifestyle that is different than the majority, but there are very few people actually "road raging" on vegetarians. My very biased guess would be that it's tied to the fact that a large number of motorists don't like to share.

Something I have heard motorists say is that all road travellers should be equal, exactly the same, and anyone using the road should be equally responsible. It's a lovely thought because we're all taught from childhood that you should share equally and everything should be fair. Motorists would have us believe that their anger is born of their assertion that cyclists are aggressive, they blatantly break the laws of the road, and being on the constant vigil for cyclists is annoying. Of course, my bias (fully acknowledged) is that when totalled, rules transgressions by motorists far outnumber those of cyclists. Cyclists are not completely innocent ... far from it! ... but the scorecard is not as one-sided as many motorists would like us to believe.

It would be lovely to be equal, except for the fact that the threat isn't equal. The idea that two entities should have the equal responsibility when one of them poses a vastly greater danger to the other lies at the crux of the matter. Many drivers have no idea why people ride bicycles. If you speak to people who cycle, they talk about the great exercise, the pleasure of the ride, how it's faster than walking, eco-friendly, and sustainable. The overwhelming majority of angry motorists complain that the only reason they could see for riding a bicycle was to save money, leading to some sort of resentment, saying something like, "why should I have to look out for this person who's on the road because they're too cheap to buy a car or too cheap to pay for bus fare?"

Another very interesting take on this centers on the idea of empathy. Many drivers can attest to having stepped off the curb into traffic as an accident, and the commonality of the mistake allows them to forgive when behind the wheel. Many have never gone road cycling, felt what it's like to have a car pass within a hair's breadth while sending shards of road debris slicing into shins and thighs, or to slam on the bike brakes as the car turns right without checking a blind spot. They most certainly have never been nearly blown off the road as a transport or large truck impatiently thunders by, angered that they were "stuck" behind a cyclist for an extra 3 seconds.

Again, I fully admit that I am decidedly biased about this argument.

As a purely "tongue in cheek" take on the those that take issue with cyclists, check this little piece out:

The bicycle is the slow death of the planet - Thank you FB's Megan Doreen and Yvette Moore
General Director of Euro Exim Bank Ltd. got economists thinking when he said, 

"A cyclist is a disaster for the country's economy; 

does not buy cars and does not borrow money to buy; 

does not pay for insurance policies; 

does not buy fuel, nor pay for the necessary maintenance and repairs; 

does not use paid parking; 

does not cause serious accidents; 

does not require multi-lane highways."

"Cyclists do not get fat and are neither needed nor useful for the economy. 

They don't buy medicines. 

They do not go to hospitals or doctors. 

Nothing is added to the country's GDP (gross domestic product)."

"On the contrary, every new McDonald's restaurant creates at least 30 jobs: 10 cardiologists, 10 dentists, 10 dietary experts and nutritionists, and obviously, people who work at the restaurant itself."

Choose carefully: cyclist or McDonald's? 

It is worth considering.
P.S. Walking is even worse. Pedestrians don't even buy bicycles.

Falling on my own sword, have I gone through a red light? Yes, after checking both ways multiple times and having no cars in visible sight lines. Have I turned without signalling? Yes, although I try very hard to signal every time. Have I ridden two abreast? Sure, but only on country roads where the traffic is nearly non-existent.

One beneficial thing about being a cyclist is how cognizant of them I am when behind the wheel, while driving defensively, obeying 97% of the rules of the road ... Hey, even though everyone in my family calls me an "Old Fart" for driving so slowly, I still speed a teensy bit.

See you out on the road.
Please make sure you see me and give me some room.

I'll do the same for you.